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Cicirossi
It started with with a (fictional, we hope) ice cream/donut/sex shop rest area on the highway. And then it just grew until it ate Cici's brain.
Rated NC-17. Contains rampant silliness, ice cream abuse, food as sex toys. If you're bothered by slash you might not want to keep reading....
Spike, Xander, and the Buffyverse ©Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Warner Brothers,
UPN, 20th Century Fox, Sandollar, and probably some other people I've forgotten.
It's Joss' world, we just like to play in it.
After a minor scuffle, they called room service. After a small head thwapping match brought on by Spike's accusation that Xander was just a bit too fixated on the words Anya and credit card, they settled in to eat. Xander was a happy man. Rare steak, and salad and an enormous slab of chocolate cake that he ate directly from Spike's fingers. He licked the residue of frosting from Spike's palm, and made contented little noises, and Spike laughed at him.
They ended up napping after their meal, because Spike insisted that they wait at least an hour before going in the water. Didn't want Xander drowning on him, did he? Torn between amusement and irritation, Xander spooned behind Spike with his back to the window side of the bed, and grumbled about overprotective weirdoes until they fell asleep.
Sometime around noon, Xander woke up with Spike buried completely beneath him, and a strong urge to go to the restroom. He slipped out of bed and covered Spike carefully with the classical motif bedspread, then headed off to do his "mortal thing", as Spike called it. He wondered idly if he was going to bust a gut laughing every time he went into the bathroom. He hoped not. It would certainly kill the mood. While he was there he took a moment to turn on the whirlpool jets, and then went back to the main room to rummage through their sex toy allotment, looking for the lube.
No, no, no, ah! Yes. Waterproof lube. Triumphant, he went to the foot of the bed and grabbed the big toe hanging out of the bottom of the covers. He gave it a good yank, and a messy head of hair shot up from under the Coliseum and a set of big, blinking eyes stared at him over the Forum.
"Mrrgrph?"
"Hot tub time, Spike." Xander waved the lube, then started back to the bathroom, shedding clothes as he went. Stopping in the doorway, bare except for his boxers, Xander looked over his shoulder at Spike. Who was staring with an endearing sleepy stupidity at Xander. "Coming?" he asked, and bent over to slip his boxers off before disappearing into the bathroom.
His butt hadn't even settled on the bench fully before he had a double armful of naked Spike. Straddling his lap, pushing him back against the side of the tub, Spike kissed him breathless, making those little growly noises that drove Xander absolutely nuts. Kisses rough and urgent and nothing like their loving play at the truck stop. This was Spike when he got serious, when he focused on Xander completely, and it made Xander shake, made him wonder if it was all going to be over before it started.
Even the thought that this wasn't as easy as the magazine porn stories made it sound, that his arms and legs had a distressing tendency to float, couldn't distract Xander. The feel of Spike's hands clutching at his hair, of Spike's tongue stroking his, was too immediate. Too there. The taste was pure Spike, old and dangerous and love and just a hint of chocolate cake. It was like they hadn't touched each other in days, and Spike was grinding against his cock and he was gasping in between kisses and jeez, it was too much.
When Spike pulled away Xander protested, reaching for him, seeking blindly for contact and Spike knocked his hands away almost violently. He couldn't understand until Spike came back with the lube, and thank god one of them was thinking, because he wasn't, not at all, unless you counted thinking with is crotch. He bit into the curve of pale neck and shoulder in front of him as Spike slicked him up. The water bubbling around them was hot, and Xander thought that it might start to boil soon, just from touching his skin. Especially if Spike kept that up, that firm stroke that made his hips rise and his thigh muscles cramp.
Just when he thought he might go crazy, Spike raised himself up, and took Xander in. Beautifully complete now, joined, and this was why, in case anyone wondered. Why Spike, he meant. Because beneath the bad singing and the worse jokes there was this unbelievable creature who bought him donuts, and fed him chocolate and fucked like the demon he was. Spike clutched Xander's shoulders hard enough to bruise, and tipped his head back, not really panting, didn't need to breathe. More like moaning, tight little sounds that pushed out of him with every thrust of Xander's cock into his ass. Those sounds made Xander's balls draw up tight, made his spine feel like it was going to snap in two, and he had to touch. He groped for Spike's cock, sliding his fingers over the silky skin, ghosting down over the soft sacs, stopping just at the place that they fit into one another.
There, he stroked right there, and it was too much for both of them. Spike's body clenched around him, and he rolled up into it. They cried out in unison, shuddering and gasping and everything poured out, until there was nothing left in them that the other hadn't seen. When it was over they floated, literally as well as figuratively, searching for the strength to move, not finding it for a long while.
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