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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.
"I have no idea what that's about, Spike. Because it's not like I've always wanted my very own bleached vampire, who I don't even like. Have I told you that?"
"What was it I said last time you asked that? Might have done." With a smile that came across just this side of Angelus, Spike held up his coffee mug. "By the way, pet, I really do need to go get some blood."
Oh man, if he blushed any harder Xander thought he might spontaneously combust. "Thanks for playing along."
"Any particular reason you didn't want me to leave you alone with the hens?"
"Many reasons. Huge amounts. At least five of which concern them asking questions about the things you and I have been doing. So not into talking about that." Fiddling with the tie on his sweatpants, Xander stared at the floor. And the wall. And any place but Spike's ever-widening grin. "Can you get delivery? On the blood, I mean. I don't think I should go out, and you're supposed to stay here."
"Suppose I could. If I had the dosh."
"Jeez, Spike. You'd think after a hundred years you'd get a savings account."
"Not much on banks. Got any cash?"
"Yeah." Well, that made Spike lose the smile, at least. Now he just looked surprised. Xander got his wallet, and counted out enough bills to get Spike a small supply. "Here. I'm going to go do laps around the living room or something. You call."
Still looking a little shocked, Spike looked at the money in his hand, then back at Xander. "I can think of several ways to work off your energy, luv. And they don't require running. Not unless you want them to."
It was a valiant effort, but Spike wasn't quite managing the right amount of smarm to pull that off. Boy, if Xander had known it would throw him off balance that hard, he would have offered to buy blood before now. "Thanks for the kind offer. But I have to make this one last a while. And if we do that, I go off into la la and then wake up puking on your Docs."
"Good point. I'll get the blood."
"Right."
"Right."
There, that was settled. Going to the living room now, Xander thought. As soon as his feet would move. They seemed about as content as the rest of him to stand there and stare at Spike. Who was staring back with the weirdest look on his face. Why on earth the bespelled chocolates decided that Xander had always wanted Spike was beyond him. But he did now, that much was certain. Down boy.
"Going."
"Calling."
"'Kay."
"Good."
Feet finally obeying his command and moving, but they moved toward Spike instead of away, which was bad. Spike looked almost bewildered, and that Xander understood. Sympathized with even. He also looked almost as edible as a Chocolate Hurricane. Slightly more edible than a Caramel Tornado. Before Xander even knew what he was doing they were kissing, his hands on Spike's shoulders, Spike's hands on his ass. Swarming up Spike's body to wrap his legs around those lean hips and Spike braced them both and just stood there holding him, not even straining. It felt so good, and little noises came out of Xander's throat and he thought he could just do this forever.
Little sparkles danced behind his eyes, and Spike broke the kiss before he passed out due to lack of air. Gasping, Xander rubbed his pelvis against Spike's lower belly, feeling the hardness of his belt buckle and the rough rasp of his jeans beneath the thin fleece of his pants. Ready to just keep humping until he came, not even waiting to get their clothes off, and Spike gnawed on his collarbone and oh, God. "Unhhhh," was all he could say, and he pressed closer, harder, please.
Grunting, Spike pulled back to look at him, desperate and needy, and they were kissing again, teeth rubbing against lips they kissed so hard. The tiny pain made it just that much better, and Xander started a rhythm that would take him on the most direct route to orgasm, rubbing harder and faster, until he just wanted to explode. Which was why suddenly flying through the air and landing on his ass on the bed came as such a rude shock.
"Spike?"
"Can't, pet. You have to conserve chocolate." Spike looked as amazed to say it as Xander felt to hear it.
"It hurts, Spike."
Two steps forward before he stopped, and then it was so, so reluctant. "Sorry, luv. Just going to have to hurt for a bit. I'm going out there," Spike pointed to the living room, "to call for blood. You're going in there to take a cold shower." Pointing to the bathroom. "And no wanking."
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