::::::::::::::::::
BRIGHT. And glaring. Xander squinted when Spike flipped on the hall light. He shook his head, but that didn't help. Why did everyone do that, faced with too much light? Go away, electrons, leave me some space. Move along, that's right, nothing to see here. It was way too soon to feel hungover, wasn't it? Wasn't it?
At the top of the basement stairs Spike smacked him on the ass again. Xander looked at him blearily. Skin gone slightly coppery in the //bad! bright!// light, hair mussed three ways to Sunday, and lips swollen like--. Right, swollen lips.
"Go clean yourself up. I'll be right down--"
Xander grinned and Spike narrowed his eyes. Xander tried to think of something to say, witty and leering, but settled for a fading grin and a couple rapid swallows.
"Right, then. Go clean," Spike said, and Xander turned to go downstairs. "And no thinking, right? Got no time for bloody processing and such."
Xander stripped off his damp and matted shirt in front of the utility sink, letting the water run until it was hot. He twisted the shirt under the stream, wringing it out, and wished there was something more effective than--What the hell? Lava soap? The sliver of soap scraped badly and he tossed it into the drain. He settled for water. His hands looked odd under the water, wavery and trembling, pale as Spike's. Spike.
Spike.
Spike, who fucked Anya. Who fucked Buffy repeatedly, almost--. And his thoughts were not going to go tripping lightly down that merry lane, thank you very much. Oh, wait, there they went, skipping, running, tumbling down, right past merriness, //Here be dragons// all the way down to fear --
::::::::::::::::::
Spike was determined to hold up his end. No thinking, no processing, just grab more beer and something sweet for the pup and get down there.
//Still, but-- Came too *fast*? Compared to his expectations?//
//He had expectations?//
He gripped the edge of the counter and bit into the filter of the unlit cigarette. Sucked hard, getting a nice load of nothing taste. The house was quiet; astounding, actually, but all he heard was regular night sounds, sleepy deep breathing and occasional random bird twitter. Water running downstairs, and the hammer of Xander's pulse, right below him. Jacked up and rapid, thundering.
Best be getting on, then.
::::::::::::::::::
"Shit!" Cold bottle slipping down the center of his chest. Xander caught it just in time. "Christ!"
Xander whirled around, and Spike was already across the room, gnawing the cap off his own bottle. Xander winced; even with fangs //No fangs in evidence, Xan. Chill// that couldn't feel good.
Spike flopped on the mattress, drawing one leg up against his chest, drank his beer. Button of his jeans undone, kind of splayed open. Shirt raked up a little.
"Christ, Spike--" Xander started. He moved to cross the room. Trudgingly slow //Puny human speed. Puny human// Finally there, leaning over Spike, one arm braced on the wall. Swaying a little. Spike gazed up at him, bottle on the floor, just cool blue eyes going gray in the shadows. "You're, you know, you're really--"
Xander sank to his knees, dragging his palm down the rough cement wall. Spike followed him with his eyes, staying dead still. //Heh. Dead still. Heh.// Xander brought the scraped hand to Spike's neck, cupping.
"Really fucking pretty."::::::::::::::::::
Xander's pulse was still going too fast, anxiety rising off him in jerky waves. His eyes, though, were dilating, far as Spike could tell, and his fingertips were digging into the nape of Spike's neck.
"Well, yeah," Spike said and Xander kissed him. Spike's hand slipped around Xander's waist, rubbing away the goosebumps and stray water droplets, rubbing back the warmth underneath, flush rising to the surface. He kept his eyes open, watching dark lashes flutter and a vein throb in his temple, just under the invisible coat of down. Hating to do it, Spike pulled his head back, but left his hand on the small of Xander's back. "But that's not what's bothering you."
Xander sat back on his haunches, sliding out of Spike's grasp so that Spike's hand ended up on his thigh. "Nothing's bother--"
Spike snorted. "Little taste of homo panic, then?"
Xander looked at Spike, opening his mouth, and for a second Spike saw good old dopey adorable Xan, always a beat behind everyone else, struggling to drag himself back to mutual reality. "No, it was, you know, more like--hmm." He traced a figure eight around Spike's knuckles absently. "Spike panic."
::::::::::::::::::
Spike stretched out his leg and dug in his far pocket. He cocked his eyebrow, and Xander realized it wasn't rude, or dismissive, or even challenging. It was just a Spike way of asking him to go on. Just, you know, silently.
"This is the kind of time when I really wish I smoked."
Spike offered him the creased pack. Xander tipped out a bent cigarette and put it between his lips. Before he could speak, Spike was there, right there, cupping his chin and touching the tip of his cigarette to Xander's. They flared together until Spike nudged his away. His face stayed right there, hand on Xander's shoulder, the burning cigarette almost touching Xander's neck.
"Evil undead panic," Xander said. "Add in the horny dumb guy who's not really sure what the hell he's doing. Mix." He sucked hard on the cigarette away and moved it behind him, tipping his head until it rested against Spike's shoulder. Cold fingers brushed his hair, smoothing it behind his ear, trailed down his neck, down his chest. Just brushed his nipple.
Hot ash flaked onto his stomach.
"Hey!"
And he was on his back, Spike's hand pressing his shoulder down, his mouth on Xander's chest, blowing off the ash. Tongue peeking out, licking where it still burned. He lost track of where he was, where Spike began and he ended, where the cigarettes got to, and thought desperately how grateful he was that for all their vices, his parents had never smoked. Otherwise he'd have been homeless by age--
"Fuck, Spike--" Thumb in his mouth, hand gripping his head, as Spike licked his stomach, swirling around the navel, and Xander sucked hard on the thumb, panicky, feeling it crook up against the roof of his mouth. "Wrrghmlffiffl--"
//Can't talk. Sucking Spike's thumb.//
//Okay, never thought I'd need to think precisely *that* sentence.//
Spike glanced up at him, smiling, and swung his leg over Xander's hips until he was straddling him.
"What're you laughing at, mate?"
Xander nipped on Spike's knuckle in reply.
::::::::::::::::::
He popped his thumb out of Xander's mouth and hauled him up. "Like looking at you like this--" the boy breathed and his arms went around Spike, circling his waist loosely. The goosebumps and anxiety were long gone, replaced by a slow, warm pulse that jumped at the base of Xander's throat.
"Should've done this--" Xander grinned and pushed Spike down. Spike felt himself fall limply, "Before--"
Spike stretched under Xander's hands as Xander tugged Spike's shirt up.
"See, you're all sticky. Here--" Spike swallowed a moan as Xander closed his lips around his left nipple and dragged his mouth down to his fly. "--and here--" The hot lips closed around his pelvis on the right, tongue working, flat and heavy, until Spike felt the moan again, starting right under Xander's mouth.
"Xan--" He managed to get one elbow under him, rise a little bit, and watched the dark head sweeping over his crotch, tongue trailing spit, hoovering up the sticky cum. Xander looked up at him from under heavy-lashed lids, brows rising. //You were saying, sir?// Spike tried to thrust under Xander's weight. Cock's right there, Jesus, Xan, right under your chin--
Abruptly the warmth of Xander's mouth left him and Spike moaned again, thrusting.
"You taste like lemonade, Spike." He was grinning. "Always wondered--" He dipped his mouth back down. One more lick. Looooong lick //Ta, mate//.
"--and, hey! Gin! Which is funny 'cause--" //Bloody dripping Christ!//
Spike pushed Xander's head down, rubbing his ass on the mattress, willing the jeans to peel down. Xander tugged one side, finally, and giggled again as Spike's cock slapped his cheek. Was he still talking as his tongue wrapped around the base? Couldn't be. Could he?
::::::::::::::::::
//--'cause you're English, see, but you drink whiskey. What's that called?//
Precum leaked over Xander's lips, cooling feverish tongue, as he kissed Spike's cockhead, licked down to his balls, impossibly soft hair brushing his mouth.
Sucking on Spike's foreskin, trying to nip at it, settling for suckling at the rosy head. It was so cold in his mouth, and before he could wonder about inverse temperatures or something, it hit him. Spike was writhing under him, and he was crouched here. With, you know, a cock. Spike's cock. In his mouth.
"Suck it--" //Way ahead of you, buddy.//
It was lemony and cool, slightly spicy, and Xander hollowed his cheeks as the head twitched then scraped against his teeth and Spike moaned. Everything was spinning except his mouth, and Xander shut his eyes against the dizziness. He ran his tongue down the shaft and squeezed Spike's balls. Groaning came at that from above him, so he raked his nails across the taut sac, sending cold sparks, millions of them, up his arm and down to his cock, and he sucked harder, grinding his erection against Spike's outflung leg.
Spike was whimpering, struggling to sit up. "Oh, Xan--"
Spike pushed him back and Xander lost the cock. His mouth felt suddenly too warm and way too empty, and he moaned in complaint.
Spike held one hand tightly in Xander's hair as he guided his cock back into his mouth. //Much better, thanks, Spike.//
Xander hugged Spike's thighs as the cock nudged the back of his throat and as one hand squeezed Spike's hard ass. Digging his fingers into the damp coolness of the cleft, he felt Spike pull back and thrust back in. Set up a rhythm, pulling Xander's hair back, pushing in. Seesawing like that for how long? Xander didn't know, just held on tight until the sparks going crazy in his mouth met up with the pain on his scalp and twirled around each other.
He dove down on the cock, glaring white skin before his eyes, swallowing and moaning against Spike.
Hair yanked back, cock hovering at his lips, just out of reach.
"Spi--" Tried to get back at the cock, glistening with his own spit and runny precum. "Please--"
Spike stared down at him, mouth twisting in apology.
"Not gonna hurt, Xan-- Just want--"
Spike's cock vibrated on his mouth, but he couldn't move his head. He slipped his hand around Spike's waist, fisting the base of the cock as Spike threw his head back.
"Want to come, Xan--. Fuck!"
Xander's lips finally pursed together, pushing against Spike's slit as he heard Spike growl, breaking off on a eerily high note.
"--on you--Xan, can I?"
Xander looked up at the demon face above him, golden eyes boring into him. He tugged on Spike's shaft in reply as the vampire finally came.
"Fuck, on your--. Face-- Xander!"
Spike's hands pressed on his cheeks, holding him in a vise, as his hips bucked and shots of cum hit Xander's face.
::::::::::::::::::
Thick cum painted Xander's flushed face, and Spike bent down, his hands dropping to the man's shoulders. Spike couldn't remember ever seeing anything so lovely, a smear of cum across Xander's swollen lower lip, a bottom-heavy tear drop in one thick eyebrow. Beautiful, smeary Xander. Spatters on one concave cheek as Xander inhaled, tiny drops over the ghost of a mustache. Xander's eyes closed and Spike kissed it all away, slowly.
"Sorry, Xan--" //So sorry.//
He brought his hands back up, cupping Xander's cheeks, tipping him back.
Through a haze of worry //Regret? Fuck you, soul, that was *hot*// it came to him that Xander was smiling at him. A mellow, lazy smile that called up familiar irritation and affection in one quick rush. Xander licked his lip and tilted his head to run a dry, hot tongue down Spike's thumb.
//Je ne regrette rien.//
//That's right.//
::::::::::::::::::
Xander couldn't stop grinning.
"Dumb guy?" Spike muttered, working his thumb in circles over Xander's cheek. "Doesn't know what he's doing?"
Grin plastered to his face, his jaw ached and his lips felt stretched to the breaking point, but he couldn't stop.
"Tom Collins!" Xander hugged Spike. "That's what it's called, right? Lemon and gin? Yeah!"
