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Xanpet
DEDICATION: To Wyrd without whom Xander would sound more like Prince William.
Love you lots!! Xanpet.
When Xander got in from work he had a surprise waiting for him. “Surprise? Constant challenge to my equilibrium more likely.” He reflected. “Still, two could play at that game.”
“Wow, you going owt tats?” He said out loud in his best British accent.
“Close, you’ll be in the right hemisphere if you keep practising and ‘we're’ going out tats.”
“Damn, I lose again.” Xander complained mentally.
“Just where are ‘we’ going?” He said out loud, looking the English vampire up and down. “Are you trying to get a date or a client in that? Not that dead cow doesn’t look fabulous on you darling!”
Spike was wearing the tightest leather pants Xander had ever seen. They had to have been sprayed on, surely. They laced up either side and on top he had a camouflage string vest on over black, sleeveless tee. There was no doubt his vampire honey was H.O.T. “Blistering. Nuclear. Oxygen depriving ‘think I’m going to swoon like a girl’ hot. God, X-man you need help.” Xander thought.
“I’m going to ignore that last remark. Just change into something clubby and not too het for fuck’s sake.”
Long minutes later Xander returned showered and changed. “Well that's okay if you’re auditioning for a Village People revival.”
“You think? I don't really…and hey, at least I own more than one shirt.”
“Yeah and they’re all so tasteful! Black jeans instead of blue eh?” It was no good Spike had a hundred year head start on the wit and repartee.
They got into the car. “So just where are we going?” Xander didn't know whether to be curious or worried. He now had on the tightest pair of black jeans he owned or could breath in and a clean white sleeveless tee. He had lost the vest after Spike had become incoherent with laughter. “And I put myself through this, why?” He thought.
“We are going to the only gay club in Sunnydale that the witches wouldn't be seen dead in. Got to protect your image after all - hard man.”
“Sunnydale has a gay club?”
“Yep. Sell it to The News of The World. It has three but ‘Wet‘n’Wild’ isn’t really in town, its out past the ‘Shithouse Motel’. No friends, no worries, just yous and me. I think we deserve it, don't you?”
There was no argument from Xander. Until they got there that was. He'd never been to such a place and looking at the clientele he suddenly felt under dressed and over awed. “Couldn’t we just go to the Bronze?” He said pleadingly, the snarky voice in his head said, “Or maybe Mars? I hear the red planet is lovely this time of year!”
“Yeah, all right, let's go do the vertical hump, dressed like this, in front of your mates, good call, Sunshine.” Spike started the engine.
“No, no, no. We go in here, great.” Spike just laughed at Xander’s spectacular cave in and they got out of the car.
The club was dark and sweaty. There was no air-conditioning and the walls were wet with condensation. Garage, Jungle and Techno seemed to be the order of the day. “How many vampires you reckon are in here?” Asked Xander nervously.
“Don’t ask. We’re not here to hunt or slay, just have a good time.” He sauntered up to the bar. “Gin. Neat.” There was just a new revelation every minute. Spike drank something other than his seemingly trade mark JD.
With his drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other, he found a table and sat down. He hadn't stopped grinning at Xander since they got there. Now he leaned in for a kiss. His lips were cool and tasted of gin. “Love you.” He mumbled into Xander's mouth.
Xander began to relax. There was no one else here he knew he decided and he liked the comfortable feeling he had. No one cared. Everyone else was too absorbed in their own hormones, trying to score or just having a good time to spare a glance at Spike and him. “Okay, people glance at Spike!” Xander mentally corrected himself. The furious beat was relentless.
Spike put down his drink and strolled out onto the dance floor. Xander just watched. Spike was lean and lithe. He matched his body movements precisely to the beat, oozing sex from every pore. Vertical humping was right. He caught Xander's eye and beckoned with one finger. Xander shook his head. Spike nodded and came back to the table. Taking Xander by the front of the tee he lead him back to the dance floor.
Spike put his right hand on Xander's hip and placed Xander's right hand on his. After a while he brought the brunette in closer, until they were grinding against one another. Spike held Xander in a long, deep kiss and Xander sighed. He was content and that made him feel instantly guilty. For a fleeting moment he thought of Anya. Spike saw the expression on his human lover’s face and pulled him even closer. They held each other like that while, all around them, others gyrated to the pounding sound system.
Five drinks, two dances and three cigarettes later Spike announced that he wanted to go to the loo. Xander looked for a minute trying to compute the latest piece of Brit Slang to assault his ears. “Ah bathroom, but you don’t, do you?”
“I want to go to church and I don’t think you’re inhibitions will allow it out here.”
“Go to church? You’re havin’ a religious conversion now? But you’re a vampire. Are we forgetting the ‘child of the damned’, ‘allergy to holy stuff’ deal? So not good for you.” But Spike wasn’t listening. He towed Xander to the toilet door.
“See that room over there.” He said. “Most of these places have a dark room where things can get a little fleshier but I just saw two vamps go in so I get the feeling its going to be a little messy.”
“This is the ladies and ooo, ooo, ew TMI.”
“You see any ladies? It’s good. More stalls.”
When they got inside there was another couple, at it, against the sinks. Spike had to shove Xander from behind to stop him staring and guide him towards an empty stall. “This brings back memories, China. Used to hunt like this all the time.”
“Does the word TMI mean nothing to you, Fangboy?”
Spike locked the door and then kissed Xander hard pressing him against the ply board wall of the cubicle. He pushed his tongue against Xander’s lips demanding entry. Their tongues entwined and for what seemed like forever they stood there clinging and stroking. Tongue fucking each other’s mouths, until everything else disappeared.
Spike struggled with Xander’s trousers. Xander laughed and undid the fly himself.
“I can’t believe you still managed to get boxers on under those.” Spike said incredulously. “The question why springs to mind.”
“Excuse me for not expecting to get molested, by the undead, in a public restroom. What was I thinking?!”
Spike grinned at the word molested and wiggled his eyebrows. He slid both jeans and boxers down. Dropping to his knees in one smooth movement, he encased the young man’s shaft in his cool mouth and sucked. Xander groaned. Alcohol and the thumping of the music, both did there bit to free up his inhibitions. He cared for nothing except Spike’s talented mouth on his cock.
Working his tongue around the throbbing head, Spike coated it with saliva making it slippery and wet. He teased at the circumcision scar. It was strange, they said cut blokes were less sensitive, but he had always found this spot had them moaning instantly. Xander was no exception. He pushed his hands into gel set hair and sighed and writhed against the wall.
The vampire then sunk right down onto the shaft. Opening his throat he let the cock slide all the way in. Not having to breath or having a gagging reflex, were good. He used his throat muscles to squeeze Xander’s dick. Swallowing to create undulating ripples on the underside. Xander moaned his name, his breath becoming ragged and full of passion. Soon. Youth would not allow him to last that long.
Pulling back, Spike allowed Xander to fuck his cheek. Xander rubbed the bulge with his palm, stroking the knob through the skin. His cock was slick now with saliva and the lapping sounds made his sac tighten with desire.
He began whimpering, “Oh yes baby, that’s right, do it, do it for me Wil’.”
Spike increased the pace and Xander was there. With a last groan he came long and loud, shooting hot semen down the vampire’s throat. “Oh baby, oh Wil’, yes. Oh baby, yesssss!!”
He carried on licking until Xander jumped and wriggled. “Ooo, no, no, enough.”
“I hope you’ll never get enough of me, Sweetmeat.” Said Spike, still on his knees. “Come on let’s go home where we can get comfy.”
They had almost got back to the car when Xander, in his new mood of carefree abandon, decided to grab Spike and press him up against the nearest wall for a hot kiss. Spike obliged. After a while though, he pushed Xander gently away from his cool chest. “Not ‘ere lover.” He said, not quite believing his own words, “It’s a little exposed don’t you think?” As if to answer his concerns there was a shout from the other end of the street.
“Well lookee here boys. Girls night out!”
Xander felt all of Spike’s muscles tighten through his thin tee shirt and a low growl start to build from deep in his chest. Xander had rarely been this close to the beast and, even though he knew the rage was not directed at him, an almost primeval race memory told him this was a predator, a human predator.
“Vampire!” He thought, “Evil vampire!! No, remember chip! Nice vamps don’t bite. Can’t hurt you... Can’t hurt anyone human.” Now here came the slow realisation, “Can’t hurt them. Oh God!” He recognised the dilemma and the irony, that in order for him to be safe, he was about to get his face severely pounded. Something he was very familiar with.
He stepped away from Spike and rounded on the three guys. “Is that the best you can do?” He asked.
“No we can do this.” No less than five guys appeared out of the shadows and started towards them both. Spike instinctively vamped. However, what should have scared them away just seemed to make them madder.
“You think you can scare me, leech. Take me? I was born in Sunnydale and my Dad and his Daddy too. Your kind make me more sick than faggots.” Sneered the nearest thug.
“Yeah an’ I gots a score to settle with your filth. You killed my Mama.” Said another.
“We’re taking back this town!” Cried the first, “Get ‘im boys!”
Five to one should have been a walk in the park for Spike. He was a Slayer killer for Shit’s sake, but now he was reduced to fighting for his existence, against wankers he wouldn’t have stopped to take a dump on. He tried swing after swing, kick after kick. Each one had him reeling. It didn’t seem to matter whether he connected or not. The pain was blinding.
Xander faired better. Even though brawling in the street wasn’t his first course of action in these situations he had no choice. If they really had come out spoiling for a fight with some vamps, and nothing said these guys were bright enough not to, then they would be tooled up and Spike, Master Vampire, could be dust. Christ, Wil’ could be dusted by local butt munches in an alleyway. “So not going to happen.” He thought.
He fought with renewed vigour. Throwing punch after punch as though he was fighting demons. And who was to say he wasn’t. He had enough internal demons to work off. These guys were just the impetus he needed.
The thugs kept coming although they did appear to be slowing. Xander saw an opening. Grabbing Spike by the wrist he dragged him to the car. He threw open the passenger door and bundled Spike in. Then, jumping the hood, he tossed himself into the driver’s side and not a spilt second too soon as the goons descended upon them.
“Keys!” He screamed at Spike, started the ignition and without looking reversed the car at speed. With a crunch of gears they took off into the night.
Spike looked with sorrow at the bruises on his lover’s face and arms. Not that he was much better but he knew his injuries were already beginning to heal. Xander had been in such fights for years; with no supernatural assistance at all he had fought against everything the Hellmouth could throw at him. This though, this wasn’t fair.
He knew now that he had to do everything in his power to get rid of the chip once and for all. It was out of there, gone. His greatest desire at this moment was to lick his own wounds and Xander’s. Healing them, at the same time healing the damage that had been done to their relationship tonight.
Xander looked so sad as he sat at the wheel of the DeSoto and Spike couldn’t do anything about it. He was helpless, impotent. If he told Xander he knew what the lad would say – It didn’t matter, he was fine, they were okay.
“I’m sorry.” Spike said simply.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m fine. We’re okay.”
But it did and he wasn’t and they weren’t and Spike was going to do something about it.