splash image of Xander





9.

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"Spike?"

"Yeah?"

"This okay?"

Spike fought to open his eyes. He propped himself up on his elbows. Xander was kneeling on the floor, between his legs, palms resting on Spike's thighs. Branding him with hot sweat.

"Yeah," Spike said. "Very okay. Why?"

"You kinda went away there," Xander said. His fingers dug in against Spike's thighs and squeezed. Thumbs started working circles as he rested his head against Spike's knee. Spike's cock twitched every time Xander exhaled. "Where'd you go?"

"Happy place."

"Which is?" Rapid little licks up Spike's legs, then lips brushed his pubic hair.

Spike tensed his legs and grabbed at the mattress. "Er--"

Hot tongue dragged across his balls as Xander pushed one leg up and Spike curled his toes against the edge of the mattress. Wet kisses smeared around his balls as he tried to push his hips up. His cockhead managed to brush Xander's cheek before the boy pulled back. Xander tightened his grip around Spike's ankle.

Warm breath blown over spit. Fingers gripped and loosened, waiting for a reply.

"Ummm," Spike breathed. "Happy. Place. Where--"

"Yes?" Quick press of tongue flat on his perineum and Spike threw his hips up and head back. A groan escaped his throat.

And then it was quiet, and Xander was just holding his ankle and breathing.

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The tension was singing out across Spike, moving his hard cock like a twig in the breeze, drawing out the sinew in his thighs and hips, painting a sheen of chilly sweat across his skin. Xander wasn't sure how much longer he could stay still, how much longer he could stay away from Spike. His own cock was so hard it twitched with his pulse.

"Where--" Spike groaned.

Xander licked the base of Spike's cock, covering his teeth with his lips and trying to catch at the tightening foreskin. He drooled a little and spread the spit around the base. Ran two tickling fingers up and down Spike's Achilles tendon.

"Fucking hell! Xander--" Spike sat up so quickly that Xander didn't have time to pull back. Spike's cock struck his face as his hand grabbed Xander's hair. Spike growled and pushed his head down. "Happy place. Your mouth. Sucking me off."

Face mashed against Spike's pelvis, Xander grinned. He twisted his neck and closed his lips around the side of Spike's shaft, poking the tip of his tongue along the cool skin.

He decided not to ponder exactly why hair-pulling and pissed-off growls were both a turn-on and reassuring, which would lead to further pondering on the question of why he needed reassurance, which would lead to the $64,000 question: Why is Spike's hard cock making you drool in the first place?

He wriggled against Spike's hand, working out a bit more space and ran his tongue up the shaft, tasting pungent lemon and juniper, his mouth watering.

"Xan." A breath whined out of Spike and blunt nails scratched at Xander's scalp. "Suck me. Want you--Want you--Want you."

Xander dropped open his mouth around the head of Spike's cock, pushing back at it with his tongue as he sucked it in.

Honestly, and having someone's cock in your mouth is nothing if not a moment for honesty, Xander felt happy. He scraped an incisor against Spike's skin and swallowed as the head banged against the roof of his mouth. //Spike wants you//--and for once the voice in his head wasn't his dad's, or Willow's, or Snyder's. It kind of sounded like Xander.

Spike was bent over him, one hand gripping his hair, the other crushing his neck, as he thrust. Xander swallowed precum and licked the underside of the shaft against Spike's thrusts, tugging the cock back in as it slipped out. The hinges of his jaw ached and his tongue felt clumsy and thick, but it was all so right.

"Look at me," Spike said.

Xander tipped his head back, sucking an o-ring around the head, precum filling his mouth. Spike was on his back again, looking across at him, his face twisted. Xander waggled his eyebrows and pushed his mouth down Spike's jumping cock. He worked his hand up Spike's leg and clasped the base of the cock. Jacked it hard against his tongue.

"Fuck!" Spike groaned. "Shit--Xan!"

The shaft was jumping in Xander's hand and he closed his eyes, sucking hard as he rubbed his knuckles against his hard on.

"Don't--" Spike growled. "Please--" He bucked and Xander moved his free hand quickly up, clenching Spike's ass before it met the bed again. "Look--?"

The tone almost bewildered. He opened his eyes and Spike moaned. Xander could see Spike's face far away, mouth twisting and eyes squeezed almost shut. He gripped the curve of Spike's asscheek, fingers buried deep in the cleft, and pushed them deeper as he bit the shaft in his mouth. Spike struggled up, mouth working silently, a black slash in the pale face. He was coming in Xander's mouth, shooting wild, and Xander forced himself to go still. Felt the cock jerk around in his cheek, past his lips, and he hung onto Spike's ass as he shot again. Cool cum on Xander's cheek and jaw.

Spike fell backward. Shaking, Xander tried to stand up, bracing his hand on the edge of the bed and unfolding stiff legs. He crawled up the bed next to Spike.

Spike stared at him, his thumb coming up to touch the drops of cum.

"You like that, don't you?" Xander asked, leaning in.

Spike nodded. Eyes wide and blue like a really lucky kid on Christmas morning.

Xander threw a leg over Spike's waist and leaned over him. "Better?"

Spike gazed up, tongue running back and forth over his lower lip. He touched Xander's cheek with the side of his hand. "Yum," he said simply, arching his neck, licking away the drops. "Pretty. Pretty boy."

Xander grinned. "Yeah, Spike. You're pretty. We know."

Spike slapped his ass. "Lackbrain."

"Narcissist."

"Cocktease."

"Slut."

Spike pushed him off, rolling away. Laughing, Xander watched him standing over the bed, fists at his hips. Cute, outraged Spike. "Since when does a deep appreciation of life's rich sexual panorama make one a slut?"

Xander opened his legs, almost giggling again when Spike bit his lip. "I'll give you deep."

Spike shook his head, frown battling leer. "Go to sleep, Harris."

Xander arched his back. "Don't want to."

Spike reached over and tugged Xander's cock. He caught his thumb over the head and looked intent and serious. Like a doctor checking blood pressure or heart rate. "It'll keep," he said.

Xander groaned.

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Since he fucked up big plans rather spectacularly, Spike liked to keep to the smaller ones. The small ones allowed room for spontaneity and a certain elementary logic that simply wouldn't scale to bigger ones. Accordingly, two-step equations like "it's my home too so I can get food" would work; multi-step equations involving Gems of Amara, revenge on Angelus, hot pokers, and a truly creepy paedophile vampire simply didn't. The weird thing was that he was starting to feel almost all right with this. Almost.

Spike jiggled the shopping basket in his hand, waiting in the express queue of the all-night supermarket. Every other line-up was moving twice as quickly. Fucking soul; in the bad old days he'd grab what he wanted, vamp out on anyone who tried to stop him, and be off as soon as he arrived. If all a soul was good for was making him wait in line, he'd have to have a talk with--

"Hey, buddy!"

A cart ran over his toe and Spike jumped back. Clem leaned over the front of the cart, grinning, abundant jowls shaking.

"Clem," Spike said, and edged up in line. About three centimeters. "'Sup?"

"Whatcha got there? Whatcha doing here? Shopping? I got the munchies, myself, and thought some Bugles would really hit the spot. But there's so many flavors now. Have you noticed? Sour cream and onion? Taco? What kind of taco? 'Cause when I was in Guadalajara, they had all sorts of tacos, which makes you wonder which taco flavor they're putting in the snack foods. If it's beef, that's cool. Beef heart, too. Ever had a beef heart taco? Fresh from the stand? A revelation, that's what I remember thinking. But goat? I never really got the taste of goat down--"

Spike grinned. He'd forgotten how relaxing the excitable, saggy-skinned demon could be. "Just, y'know, shopping--" He glanced at the basket. Well and truly domesticated, he was: milk, cereal, and eggs. Loaf of bread and peanut butter.

"Ever been to Canada, Spike? Forgot if you ever told me. They've got these chips up there, ketchup flavored?"

"Went to Montreal. Probably before the time of ketchup chips."

Clem nodded enthusiastically. "You gotta go back! There's also, what's it called? Pickle flavor. See, I think you're probably a ketchup guy, and it's not just the color. But I like the dill pickle."

"A good kosher pickle's nice," Spike offered.

"Yeah. So, how's things? How're tricks? You seen the Slayer around much? Her sister okay? I worry about her, needs some pounds on her. Growing girl like that could use some a little padding."

"Bit's fine," Spike said and unloaded his basket on the belt. "They're all good."

"Great!" Clem banged the cart on Spike's shin. "Sorry, man. Can't quite work these things." He held up the long-clawed paws and shrugged.

"'Salright, mate."

The cashier was looking at him blankly. Spike stared back; he was good at staring contests. Realized, when she blinked, that it wasn't a contest. "Eleven forty-seven," she said. The tone told him she was repeating herself.

"Yeah," Spike said smoothly. "'Course." He patted the duster, certain there was cash in some of the pockets. One jangled, and he grabbed at it, finding only Xander's keys. Was there some level of domestication above "full"? Because he seemed to have reached it.

Clem threw himself over the belt. "I got it! I got it!" He waved a twenty at the cashier, who took it, punched it in, and handed the change to Spike. "Keep it," Clem said. "You'll need it."

"Ta," Spike said absently, grabbing the sack of food. He felt a demon-snarl in his bowels. "Hey, Clem--You up to anything tonight? Anything fun?"

//Fun: See under "Destructive"; "Stupid"; and/or "Mayhem".//

Clem shook his head; in the sagging jowls and wobbly skin, he looked almost sad. "Go home, Spike."

"Home?" Snarled.

"You've got a hickey on your neck that's shaped like Oklahoma. Go home and get Texas." Clem grinned, black eyes glinting. "Home, Spike."

Grumbling, the demon coiled back inside Spike and he shook his head, shifting the sack to the other hand. Keep it simple, right? Home, then.



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