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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.
"Spike! What are you doing?" It came out as something approaching a shriek, and Spike started violently, then yelped almost as loudly as Xander had.
"Shit. Make me tear it off, why don't you? And what's it look like? Giving myself a hand here, aren't I?"
"In my living room?" Xander vibrated in place, torn between running in circles, gibbering, and melting into a puddle of embarrassed goo on the floor. The tiny oasis of calm he'd attained through chocolate consumption was hit by a tsunami and swept away by gale force winds. Spike. Partly naked Spike, with his partly naked parts hanging out, and what attractive parts, and where did that thought come from? Why couldn't he ever be attacked by trolls or giant mantis ladies when he wanted to? No, it only happened when he had other plans. When he needed an apocalypse to get out of a situation like this it never came.
And what was really bad was that while he stood there dithering, Spike was still stroking and rubbing and moving his hips. Only now he was looking at Xander instead of the movie and he had that devious sort of smirky expression on his face, like he knew something Xander didn't.
"Don't take on so, pet. Nothing you haven't seen before I'm sure. Come on, it's getting to a good part. Have a sit, and we can watch it and do some male bonding. Isn't that what you human lads call wanking together?"
How did Spike know the movie was getting to a good part? Had he seen it before? Or had he just seen so many gay porn videos that they all started to look the same? And why was the offer to go over there and open up his pants and fondle himself suddenly so attractive? Why was Spike suddenly so attractive? And wait, Spike had asked a question. Searching his head for the little hamster running on the little wheel that actually made his brain function, he reached for coherence and almost found it.
"No. I mean, yes. I mean... shit. Okay. Yes, I have seen manly parts, mostly soft, dangly ones in showers. No, I don't really call it male bonding, but maybe because I have no guy friends." Without any real thought, Xander had moved forward so he could see the TV again, and this was the good part? One of the guys was licking the other one's butt! Ewww. And yet, strangely not. Look at the movie, look at Spike's cock, look at the TV, look at Spike's... ahhhh! Panic.
Soothingly, like he was talking to a very small child, Spike said, "Come on now. Just sit down here on the couch like you know you want to. Stop listening to whatever those little voices in your head are saying and enjoy the movie, hmm? So I can enjoy it too, right? Otherwise, I'll miss more than I already have."
And Xander sat. Screaming and throwing himself out of a window just didn't seem feasible; laying down and putting his head in Spike's lap and licking him like a lollipop didn't seem like something he should do either, although he had a strong urge to do both. So he sat. And Spike nudged him with an elbow and jerked his chin towards the TV, and Xander started learning all he needed to know about the practical applications of rimming.
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