Grumble over, on to the fic. *g*
Banner by the marvellous suki_blue. Thank you, hon!
Title: Unfinished Business, Part 11
Summary: What if the amulet was delivered to Xander instead of Angel?
Word count: 464
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and all companies associated with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. They are not mine. I just have more fun with them.
Beta: The lovely and talented snowpuppies and suki_blue. Thanks so much, ladies!
Posted to: My journal and bloodclaim
After a nanosecond of thought, Xander grabbed Spike’s hand and tugged him from the shower, sketchily wiped them both down with a towel that had seen better days, then caught the hand again and began to tow Spike towards the bedroom.
“That’s what I like to see - a bit of enthusiasm.”
Once they reached the bedroom, Xander dropped Spike’s hand and looked around doubtfully: at the unmade double bed, the empty pizza boxes on the floor and the unwashed coffee mugs on the rickety nightstand. “It’s kinda crappy.”
“Beats the hell out of being chained up in a rock hard bathtub.”
“Ah, yeah. Sorry about that.”
“Not to worry. My back forgives you. The Watcher still owes me an apology, but you get a pass. And speaking of rock hard…”
Xander’s gaze wandered to Spike’s groin and he blushed. “Did I mention I’ve never been with a guy before? I mean, that way.”
“And here’s me, thinking you’ve been playing hide the sausage with every likely lad for ten blocks.”
“Hide the sausage? Oh. Oh! You’re kidding, right? I mean, Larry thought I was…you know…
“Gay, Spike. The word is gay.”
“Never was much of a one for all that PC shite.” Spike took pity on him. “Don’t worry, mate. You don’t come off like a bender, an arse bandit-”
Xander lurched forward and covered Spike’s mouth with one hand. “Very colourful - really - but can you stop now?”
Xander felt Spike smile beneath his palm and pulled his hand away. Winding his arms around Spike’s waist, he smiled back and shivered when Spike’s fingers gripped his shoulders. “Time for my first lesson in the man on man sexing, huh? Well, I guess what we just did in the shower counts, but not really because, you know, done that before…I mean, Anya did that before…I mean…”
“Shut up, boy,” commanded Spike, pushing Xander full-length on the bed and leaping lightly on top of the larger body. He wriggled until they were nose to nose and dived in for a long, leisurely kiss.
“Shutting up now,” Xander managed to gasp before liplock made further conversation impossible.
After too short a time, Spike pulled back. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any lube handy, have you? Raspberry flavour’d be nice.”
“You mean you want to-”
“Don’t panic. We can take this easy as you like.”
“Right, let’s try the fancy French thing.”
“Didn’t we already French kiss? A lot?”
Spike sighed pityingly. “Got no idea, do you?”
“Nope. I told you so.”
“It’s called frottage, and I think you’ll like it.”
As Spike rubbed their cocks together, the slippety-slide aided by their free flowing pre-come, Xander’s cock went from half-mast to whoo boy in seconds. He arched to get more contact and tensed as he felt that familiar, happy tingle and avidly watched Spike’s features contort into a sex-face as…
…the tingle turned into a prickle and Spike disappeared through his body.
“Okay, blue balls. I should’ve known Spike couldn’t concentrate on two things at the same time. Where’s Willow’s number again?”