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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.
Later, Xander wasn't sure how long, he pushed at Spike's shoulders and tried to move. "Spike, come on, get up. I'm all wrinkled, and my butt's numb."
"Yeah? How do you think mine feels?"
Snorting, Xander shoved Spike a bit and watched him drift away. The he tried to get up. He blood all seemed to be in his feet, though, because his head was light and empty. He listed to port, or was it starboard? Just before he toppled over, Spike grabbed him and hauled him out of the tub.
"Okay, time for all good pets to lie down for a minute and let their blood pressure come back up."
"Whoa. Hot tubs lower your blood pressure?"
"Well, not mine. Don't have any. Yours, though, yeah."
Someday, Xander thought, he might get over how weird it felt to have Spike carry him like he weighed nothing. Compared to Xander's solid bulk, Spike seemed compact, almost delicate. Ha! The room settled into only a mild spin as Spike tossed him onto the bed, and he watched the pretty colors swirl on the ceiling for awhile.
He woke up just after sundown. Spike was awake and dressed, sitting next to the window smoking a cigarette. "M'sorry," Xander said, a little muzzy. "Didn't mean to zonk out on you."
"No trouble." Spike stubbed out his cigarette and stood. He stretched mightily, and Xander stared. Debated a grand seduction scene. Decided he was too hungry.
"Feed me?" He didn't mean to whimper. It just came out that way.
"The age old cry of Xander. Come on, then. Up and at 'em." Clothing landed on his chest and wrapped around his head. Clawing his way free, Xander looked carefully at the black jeans and soft charcoal sweater he held.
"These aren't mine. Are you sure you didn't pack out of Angel's closet?"
"Nah. I bought them for you. Figured if I was going to be seen in public with you I'd rather you didn't rival the neon, pet."
"Gee thanks." Xander wasn't really insulted. Much. Okay, not at all when he saw the look on Spike's face after he was dressed. "Food first, Spike."
"Right. Got us reservations, we do. At the Excalibur."
"Isn't that where they do swordfights and stuff while you eat?"
"Yep. Food, drink, hacking and slashing. What more could you ask for?"
"Oh god."
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