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Cicirossi
Joss Whedon is God and owns all. It's still his world, although we like to sneak in the side door and cover Xander with chocolate sauce and whipped cream when no one's looking.
Halfway home, Xander realized he wasn't going home. His feet were acting out of their own volition and taking him to Spike's crypt. Shaking himself briskly, Xander turned toward his apartment. How stupid would he have to be to go there again? And why did he want to so badly?
Well, he wasn't going to. So there, demon forces of doom. No, he was going to go home and eat something, and maybe put on some of that porn, the girly stuff, and jack off until his hand was raw. Because that was obviously the only way he was going to get his mind off Spike, where it kept turning like a compass pointing north. Okay, he had to think. Who hated him enough to put a spell on him that would make him lust after Spike?
Anya? Maybe. Not that she hated him, not really. But she might do it. Cordy was out. She was earth mother these days, not revenge girl. At least from what he heard. He hadn't actually heard from her, not in a long time. He didn't think it was Spike, even though Spike seemed to be getting the better end of the deal. So to speak. And Willow might do some odd things, but this was beyond odd, and if she was doing spells again and she did mess up she would tell him. She was compulsively twelve-step that way lately.
A quick check of his surroundings proved that he was indeed almost home. Go me, he thought. Look, I can resist my baser urgings, even when they're magically enhanced. Or at least he figured they had to be magically enhanced, because otherwise he was going bonkers. So what if it wasn't aimed at him? What if it was aimed at Spike? Someone like Dru could easily do this. Why, though? Would it humiliate Spike? Endanger him? Not really. It all made his head hurt.
Home at last. Xander trudged up the stairs and decided to forgo the porn in favor of his last remaining Chocolate Hurricane and a hot bath. Which was a really good plan except that Spike was sitting on his couch, booted feet propped up on his coffee table, watching his TV.
"What are you doing here?" He tried not to let it come out all swoony gothic heroine, but it did anyway.
"Watching the telly. What does it look like?"
Good air in. Bad air out. "No Spike. What are you doing here? In my apartment? Now?"
"Oh that. Well, I was waiting for you to get home wasn't I? Got to thinking you might be home soon; figured you'd be ready for a little more push and pull."
"That's it. I'm going to kill you now."
Spike grinned, that infuriating grin that Xander hated so much that it made his cock throb. Oh, pathetic had a new name. Because Xander wanted him. Spike was sitting there in his t-shirt and jeans, feet spread apart on the table and knees bent just so, and Xander wanted him so bad it made him sweat.
"Come and get me, pet."
The pull was too strong to resist, so he went. "Why?" he whispered just before Spike kissed him, but he never got an answer beyond the feel of Spike's lips under his and the touch of Spike's hands on his body. Touches that catalogued the softness of his hair and the tense muscles in his arms, and oh it all felt so good. Even better when somewhere between the couch and the bed Spike pushed him up against the wall and sank to his knees and put his mouth on Xander's cock. At that very moment he was grateful for whatever magic had brought him this, and Xander knew he really was lost.
Discovering the taste of himself on Spike's lips led to pushing Spike down on the bed and tasting him, inexpert and clumsy and the taste was different. More metallic to Xander's salt. Some little part of his brain thought it was perfectly normal that a vampire's come should taste more like blood than anything else. Never had he ever thought he would put his mouth on another man in any way, let alone this way, but he did, and he liked it. Liked hearing Spike moan, and feeling Spike's hands in his hair and on his shoulders, liked the way the mattress shook when Spike's heels drummed against it. The air was hot, so hot and Spike was feeling it too, because his skin was just as warm and that was weird, but it didn't matter. All it did was make them melt, and run together, and there was nowhere else Xander could think of being that would feel like this. Urgent little noises came from both of them, and they were rough, guy sounds and somehow that was right, like it was supposed to be that way, and Spike pulled Xander up for another kiss with that strength that just blew him away because he felt like a child against it. But he wasn't scared.
Except for the fear that if this was a spell it would all go away as soon as they found out who was behind it. So Xander put that away in the not to think of it box and rode out the feeling of Spike's hands clenching on hips and his legs rubbing against Spike's and the spine-wrenching pleasure of his orgasm. After which he promptly fell asleep, and thinking became a non-issue.
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