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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.
Much later, strong arms eased Xander down onto the bed in their room, and he let out a little moan of pleasure. "Be right back," Spike murmured, and Xander heard him move toward the bathroom. Not that he was going to open his eyes and confirm that, because if he did, the world would start spinning again.
A blessedly cool washcloth was placed on his forehead, and someone much nicer than Spike unbuttoned his shirt and slipped off his shoes. No, really, it was Spike, but this Spike was a far cry from the one who had goaded Xander into riding that damned roller coaster.
"Why didn't you tell me you got motion sickness?" Spike asked, keeping his voice low and soothing, even when vaguely accusing.
Swallowing the foul lump in his throat, Xander waved one hand in a feeble gesture. "I thought you knew. Remember the RV ride into Hell, with the Knights of Columbus, or whatever they were, chasing us to get Dawn? I was sick as a dog the whole time."
"Forgot about that, luv. I was a bit distracted at the time with not become a nice bit of ash that the slayer could put on her mantel. That and making sure your little woman didn't cook any spam."
Gagging, Xander scrambled for the side of the bed, only to be caught and held fast by Spike. "Trash can, directly in front of you, Xan. You won't make it to the bathroom."
Well, that was certainly Spike's "just reward" for convincing him to do that. Not exactly what he had planned to give the bleachy jerk when they got back to the room, but effective enough for inducing guilt.
"Anyway, you should have reminded me."
One glass of water to rinse out his mouth, a newly cooled, wet washcloth, and Spike stroking the sweaty hair back off his face, and Xander felt much better. "I know. But I know you well enough to figure out when you're serious under the pout. You really wanted to ride that coaster."
"Would have done it by myself."
They were silent for awhile; the only sounds in the room were Xander's breathing and the creak of Spike's leather as he petted Xander's hair. It soothed him, and he almost dozed, but he needed to finish this. "I didn't want you to have to. I wanted you to have fun."
"Not at the expense of your belly."
"Oh, come on. That one picture of Pete superimposed over my green face and bulging eyes will make a great scrapbook memory."
"You're a very strange human."
"Yeah, but I love you."
"Go to sleep, pet."
"Love me?"
"Yes. Goof."
"Good." And Xander went to sleep.
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