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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.
"In the mail."
"Yeah? Who from?"
"Someone who has really good taste in chocolate." Xander frowned. "Why are you suddenly so snoopy about my chocolate?"
"Oh I don't know. Maybe because it's the only thing you eat lately, and when you do it seems to make you feel really good. Not that I'm complaining, mind, because makes you a horny little bugger too."
Crap, what a time to realize that Spike was not the only one who wasn't dressed. Casting about for his clothes, Xander scoffed. "No harm ever came from eating chocolate."
Spike stood abruptly, and he jiggled in the most fascinating way. So not good. Well, definitely good, but bad. Xander backed up. Spike advanced. "All I'm saying, pet, is that maybe you should look for someone to get you where you're weakest." As if to prove his point, Spike reached out and cupped Xander's nearly erect cock in his hand. The effect was electric; Xander felt it all the way to the ends of his hair. With an Eliza Doolittle squeal, Xander backed away.
"No! No, no, no. It's not the chocolate. It's you. If you would just stop doing things like that."
"But the chocolate is you weakest point. You eat like there's no tomorrow."
"Stop it. It's your fault. If you weren't so, and I didn't like it so much, and damn it, leave my one source of happiness out of this. And what time is it? Shit! I have to go to work."
Resolute, Xander turned his back on Spike and bent over to grab his pants off the floor. And froze when Spike moved up behind him and rubbed against his ass. "No need to. Told them you were still sick when they called, didn't I? Terrible thing that stomach flu."
The feel of Spike's hand on his hips, guiding their motions as they slid against each other was excruciating. "I am not going to lose my job for you, you jerk."
"Of course not. Oh, just like that, pet."
"Unh." That little strip of skin had a name, Xander knew, but at this point long ago biology lessons were far, far away. His legs gave out at the feel of Spike's cock rubbing there, and he went down, suddenly on all fours on the carpet, and wasn't this just too suggestive a position? Obviously, Spike thought so too, because he groaned and dropped to the floor behind Xander, crowding up behind him and draping himself over Xander's back.
"Wish I could fuck you, pet. Really, really wish I could."
Thinking was impossible. It had to be, because if he was thinking he would never blurt out, "Why can't you?"
He felt more than heard Spike's chuckle. Along with Spike's fingers on his nipples and Spike's pelvis against his butt and Spike was so light, really, and where did he hide all of that strength? "It'd hurt. Even if I was careful, which I wouldn't be. Want it too bad. I'd nail you to the floor."
"Oh." It came out in the barest whimper, because three-D image there, with surround sound, and oh God. Without any conscious effort, Xander's back arched and he pushed his ass back into Spike and his dick was so hard he thought it might just explode. "Oh."
"Yeah." Spike touched him everywhere. His chest, belly, thighs. One hand reached around and grabbed Xander's cock, the other slid into the crease of his ass from behind and rubbed at his opening. Even Anya had never touched him there. Thrilled as much as he was shocked, Xander rocked back and forth into the dual touches and listened to Spike's murmured words. "Yeah, I'd take you just like this, or maybe on your back with your pretty legs over my shoulders and I'd be inside you, stretching you and it would hurt so good, luv." One long finger slid a little way inside, barely there, and it was so alien and strange and the friction was completely different. But it felt good.
Then the world tilted and spun and suddenly Xander was on his back, staring up at Spike, stunned at the speed with which he moved. "Sad thing is," Spike said, pumping Xander's cock, "the chip doesn't know the difference. So I'll just have to find a different way to take you."
A little afraid now, thank you, because what did that mean?
"Got anything slick?"
"Just l-lotion."
In the time it took Spike to get the lotion, Xander started feeling self-conscious. And uncomfortable. And Spike was back now and just look at him. Smooth muscle flowing under baby fine skin. Cool lotion touched his burning cock and Xander jumped, gasping and Spike soothed him, while at the same time Spike's smile wasn't soothing. It was greedy and hot and big bad wolf, and then Spike was reaching behind him and Xander watched him oil himself with the lotion and it dawned on him what was about to happen. What was left of his brain ran away screaming in panic, but the rest of his body tightened in anticipation and his hips rolled up and when Spike straddled Xander's body all he could do was pant encouraging words.
Slow, tight glide into Spike's body like, by damn he belonged there, and that had to hurt but Spike was just grunting and moaning and pushing ever further. Down until his ass was flush against Xander's body, until Xander thought the pressure of it might just break him in places he didn't even want to contemplate. Then the large muscles in Spike's thighs tightened, and he moved. And conscious thought went right out the window along with concern for Spike's comfort. The hollows of Spike's hips were perfect for his hands and he gripped tight and pulled and urged Spike on.
Cursing, rising and falling rapidly, Spike rode him. Spike. On him. And oh, oh yeah, Spike was fisting his own cock now and that was maybe the most erotic thing Xander had ever seen. Considering the week he'd had, that was saying a lot, wasn't it, and Spike was a tight arch of pleasure above him and Spike's seed spurted out to land on his chest and Xander was just gone. Flying. Yelling like a maniac. And his brain shorted out about the time his orgasm finished and he thought he heard Spike say, "Well shit," just as he slid into unconsciousness.
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