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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.
"You going to try to convince me you don't want to, pet?"
"No." Shaking his head, Xander got to his feet and extricated himself from the sheets. "I'm not going to tell you that. Because you'd know better. But I'm not going to do it. Whether I want to or not. What I am going to do is take a shower. And brush my teeth. And you are going to start going through the last couple of days of newspapers. Got it?"
Said quietly, with none of the manic energy that characterized their interactions lately, it seemed to get through to Spike. He gave Xander on long, measuring look, then nodded. "All right. We'll play it your way. Go on, have your shower."
"Thanks."
The thanks were as sincere as everything else had been. Xander knew very well that Spike could have pushed the issue. He wanted Spike badly. And it showed, since he was kinda uncovered. One little push, and it would tip the balance. And no offense to Spike, but Xander had expected him to push.
Escaping to the bathroom, Xander took a long, hot shower. He washed away the sicky sweat and grime and other, less mentionable bodily fluids, and scrubbed his hair until he was sure his scalp was red. Much better. Then he brushed his teeth. And shaved, which he needed pretty bad. Refreshed, he headed back into the bedroom to get some clothes.
And Spike was there. Sprawled on the bed, naked, reading the morning paper. Drooling would be bad, because he just got clean. Jumping Spike would be bad, because he would just crash, and he only had so much chocolate. Squeaking maybe? Squeaking was good.
"Spike?" And look, it really did come out as a squeak. "Could you not be naked? Sorta makes my resolve not to touch you difficult to maintain."
"Hmm? Oh, sorry. Waiting for the shower, you know?" Slow, predatory movements as Spike uncoiled from the bed and came to him. "You leave any hot water?"
"Yes? I mean, yes. I think so. Maybe. What are you doing?"
Sniffing him was what Spike was doing, leaning in and taking a long, leisurely nuzzle at his neck. His everything stood at attention and took notice. Then Spike latched onto Xander's throat and sucked hard, bringing up a bruise, and Xander moaned and swayed closer to him. "Just checking to make sure you got good and clean, pet. Here, you read the paper. I'll bathe."
Shaking now, damn him, and Xander went and sat on the bed, staring sightlessly at the newspaper. When he could almost think again, Xander realized that the sheets were different. And the trash can by the bed was empty. Spike was taking care of him. And wasn't that a scary thought? Because the only person he could remember Spike taking care of before was Dru. Well, and maybe Dawn. But not the same way.
And why was Spike doing all this anyway? It wasn't like he was the one eating the chocolate. He wasn't being magically impelled to do all this. Thinking like that wasn't getting anything done, though, and it wasn't helping with his little below the waist problem either, because scary as it was it was also kind of warm and gooshy and, okay... clothes. Must put on clothes.
Sliding into a pair of sweat pants, Xander moved from the bedroom to the living room. That might help with the bed plus Spike equals hard-on equation. Maybe. Then he started concentrating on the papers, desperately hoping he'd find something and that it would capture his interest long enough for him to forget that there was a wet, naked Spike in his bathroom.
By the time Spike got out of the shower, Xander really was engrossed in the local news. Mr. Lymon wasn't the only person recently to kick off under odd circumstances. And only in Sunnydale would any death except exsanguination be considered odd. So, Mr. Lymon and his heart attack from marathon training. A fifteen year old boy that tried to fly and broke his neck jumping off his house. A middle aged housewife who crashed her car doing ninety in the elementary school parking lot at midnight. And a twenty something guy who was found partially eaten in the lion cage at the zoo, along with a chair and whip. Weird.
A shrill noise at his elbow made Xander jump a good foot in the air. The phone, he told his pounding heart, just the phone. "Hello?"
"Xander?"
"No, it's Bob. Of course it's me, Will. What's up?"
"Who's Bob? Anyway, Buffy isn't home yet. So I can't tell her. But I tested your candy bar. I only used a really small piece in case you need it, you know, if we can't get you fixed before you go into withdrawal."
"That's very kind of you, Wills. Anything?"
"No. Nothing but chocolate. And stuff, like preservatives stuff. No weirdness at all. I thought even if it wasn't drugged that maybe it had some kind of weird spore, or maybe spawn or something."
"Stomach doing flips now, thanks."
"Oh! Sorry. But I thought maybe it was more like implanted demony than charmed. Maybe. Except that it wasn't. So as much as I hate to admit it, I think Spike was right. Nothing in the chocolate. So it has to be a spell on the chocolate."
Conjured by Willow's mention of him, Spike came out of the bathroom just as she finished her sentence. Which was good, that she was finished he meant, because otherwise Xander would have lost track of her completely. Vampire skin. Shining with little drops of water. Completely bare, from the almost delicate looking neck to the surprisingly attractive feet. Yep. That meant everything in between was bare too. Like shoulders, strong and square. Or like the chest, with its pale nipples, cutting away into a ridged belly that made Xander want to lick it. Hips and thighs and knees, oh my, and Spike was oblivious, apparently, drying his hair with Xander's favorite towel.
"Xand? Are you there?"
"Unhhh?"
"I said Buffy should be here soon. Have you found anything in the newspaper?"
"Newspaper?" Think, Xander, think. "Oh. Oh yeah. Lots of weird stuff. Like people are suddenly deciding to try extreme sports, the domestic edition."
"Like what?"
Xander explained, or was pretty sure he did anyway, but his attention was firmly fixed on Spike. Because Spike had turned his back now, and walked back to the bathroom to throw the towel on the floor there. The flex and release of the muscles in Spike's back and ass fascinated him. Mesmerizing. Willow talked for awhile after he finished, so he figured she was suitably impressed with him as research man, but he really had no idea what she was saying.
He just kept saying, "uh huh," and watching Spike and it was killing him, this utterly painful need. Spike turned around, and for a moment the most serious, dangerous expression crossed his face. Then he looked pointedly at Xander's crotch and grinned. And why wouldn't he? Xander looked down himself and there was his hand, rubbing at his cock through the soft fleece of his pants. Bad hand. Maybe his cock and Spike's were magically connected or something too, because Spike's began to fill and rise and gah.
"Xander?"
"What!"
"Are you okay? You've been really quiet. You're not sick again are you?"
"No. Not sick." Unless you counted sick in the head. Because, still Spike over there, not someone he should be this crazed over, right? Over there quickly became over here as Spike did that slinky hip walk thing across the room and sat down next to him on the couch. No preliminaries, and no gloating. Just Spike's lips and teeth attacking the skin beneath the ear that didn't have the phone attached to it, and Spike's hand pushing his aside and massaging his aching cock. Every bit of breath in his body went out with an explosive whoosh, and Xander fought to get more of that maddening touch.
"Are you sure? You sound kind groany."
"Nope. Not groiny. Groany! Not. Really."
"Okay. Oh, Buffy's here. Hold on while I fill her in, 'kay?"
"Okay." It came out really weak, but Willow didn't seem to notice. He heard her set the phone down, heard the murmur of voices in the background, but couldn't concentrate on them. Not with Spike pinching his nipples and sucking that same spot on his neck that he'd bruised before. "Stop it, Spike."
A punishing nip just under his jaw. "No." And he raised his hips as Spike pulled off his pants and Spike slid off the couch to kneel between his legs on the floor. It would be bad if he came right then, just from looking. But Spike, on his knees, naked, holding Xander's cock loosely in his hand. Bad. Yes, because if he did that Spike would have no reason to do what he was doing now, which was put his mouth right there, and suck. Gently at first, then harder when Xander squirmed and gasped. Mouth and hand met on Xander's throbbing flesh, up and down, and how did Spike know how to do all of that stuff, anyway?
Desperately keeping one little part of his mind detached to listen for Willow, Xander let the rest of his brain go, and off it went, rabbit-rabbit into Spike! Sucking me! Pulling back suddenly and putting his hands under Xander's knees and giving a good yank, and Xander was balanced precariously now, just the small of his back on the couch. The rest of his weight rested on Spike's upper arms, where his thighs draped over them. That little strip of skin again, the one he could almost remember the name for (perennial? peregrine?) was brought to his attention again, this time because Spike was licking it. Licking it. Broad rough sweeps of a sandpaper tongue, and little lightening bolts went off in Xander's ass, and that was crude but that's how it felt.
Then lower. Spike's tongue was lower, in places that tongues should probably never go, but it felt too good to argue. Circling and circling, then pressing in and Xander wailed as his whole body shook but he wasn't quite done, and neither was Spike. Spike leaned his weight into Xander's legs and Xander felt the strain in his thighs as they spread even further and he had a free hand didn't he? Yes, he did and he couldn't decide. Spike's hair or his own cock? Maybe both, and he stroked Spike's hair and face and neck. Whatever he could reach. It must have felt good, because Spike moaned too and pressed harder into Xander's body and Xander bucked into the touch and then there was his hand, pumping up and down on his own cock like there was no tomorrow.
Distantly, very distantly, Xander heard, "Xand? Buffy has some news. Some really big news. We're going to come over and tell you in person type news. We'll be over in a few minutes, okay?"
Affirmative noises were of the good, so he made one, for Spike and Willow both. And Willow hung up, which was really good too because just about that time Spike bit hard into Xander's thigh and groaned as he came, and Xander just exploded. All over his hand, and all over his belly, and all over Spike. His last coherent thought was that they would have to have another shower before the girls showed up, and then he blacked out completely.
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