Disclaimer: So not mine. Written purely for fun. No profit, no promises of literary value.
Notes: Today's Newspaper!verse is brought to you by the letters S, and X and the number 21!
schmoop factor: medium
banter factor: medium-high
smut factor: high
Rubber Ducky, You're The One
"What do you yanks call it when a bloke gets the story ahead of another bloke?" Spike asked, pulling back the shower curtain and leaning on the wall.
Xander yelped, dropping the soap and planting his hands against the tiles, chest heaving. "Jesus Spike! Wear a bell or something."
"On a collar? Kinky." The scarred eyebrow twitched upward, and Spike examined his painted fingernails. "Be a good boy, and maybe Santa'll pay you an early visit." Casually, Spike leaned down, flipping the shower switch and the drain, letting the water fill the tub instead. "So what is it called?"
"Vampire interrupting man's shower. Showerus Interruptus?"
"Don't try the Latin, pet. Doesn't suit." Straightening, Spike shed his duster, and began on the buttons of his shirt, letting his eyes trail over every slick, warm inch of Xander, lips pursed. "So what is it called when a bloke gets the news first?"
"Spike, you're stripping with that look in your eyes, and you expect me to think?"
"Try, or I'll stop."
"Evil bastard." Xander relented at the patented Spike "idiot look" and rested his head back on the shower wall, trying to think. "Scoop. You scoop the other guy. What is this, kinky crossword puzzles?"
"No. It's me scooping you."
Xander cocked his head to watch Spike shimmy out of his jeans. "Okay, still sounding kinky."
Spike only chuckled, crouching by his duster and rummaging in the pockets. "Not arguing the kinky, pet. There was a good article in the paper today."
"When did you have time to read the newspaper?"
"Waiting for Red. Decided we needed a stop in the little boutique, and a man can only occupy himself so long with the new shades in nail polish."
Which explained the return of Spike's polished nails. Xander squinted. "Isn't Vamp nail polish kind of redundant on you?"
"Vamp's the new black, pet." Spike paused, made a face. "God, I really said that, didn't I?"
"Fraid so, bleachy."
"Bugger. Sit down and budge up, will you?"
Obediently, Xander sat, scooting forward in the tub until he felt the cold limbs slip in behind him, settling to either side, then pulling him back against an equally chilly chest. Briefly, Xander considered complaining, but changed his mind, rubbing the skinny calves instead until they began to warm with friction and hot bath water. "Is it cold out?"
"Yeah. Early frost this year, I reckon," Spike said, burying his nose in Xander's throat and getting a small meep for the chill.
"So what's this about you scooping me, huh? Uhm. And you can keep doing that, by the way," Xander said, letting his head thump against Spike's shoulder once warming fingers wrapped around his cock for a lazy-slow up and down.
Spike's chest vibrated with his laugh, and he leaned forward to speak against Xander's ear, eyes closed to slits as he watched the head of Xander's cock emerge and disappear slowly within the pale circle of his fist. "Open your eye, luv. Want you watching."
"How the hell am I supposed to focus on the news with your hand around my dick?"
"Who said I want you focused on the news? Want you focused on me."
"Better tell me quick or I'm not going to be focused on anything above your wrist." Xander's fingers convulsed on Spike's knees at the feeling of blunt teeth closing on his throat. "O-okay, and maybe your mouth. Can focus on your mouth."
"So there was a news article about a woman in-"
"Nah. Tennessee. Why'd you think Oklahoma?"
Xander sighed. "Never mind. Mm. Brains dribbling out my dick. Continue."
For answer, Spike's free hand dipped out of the tub, and into the duster, setting its prize down on the edge of the tub with a soft thump.
Xander peeled his eye open. "Spike?"
"What do a news article, a hand job, and a rubber ducky have to do with each other?"
"Ah, that's the question now, innit? This is called an object lesson, pet." Spike picked up the rubber ducky, and set it in the water, letting it float. "You and I look at this, and we see?"
"A rubber ducky grinning at us that would probably kill my sex drive if that was possible."
"Good thing it ain't, cause I'm not done with you yet. Right. We see a silly little bit of plastic with a bloody stupid grin on its bill. And the government of Spring Hill, Tennessee sees," Spike paused for dramatic effect, "an illicit sex toy."
Xander burst into laughter, and only Spike's grip on him kept him from slipping under the water entirely. "You've gotta be kidding me."
Spike gave the duck a flick with his finger and watched it drift in the current. "Not a bit of it."
"Well that's nice, but where does the hand job come in? I mean, if that duck's a sex toy because there are people getting off by just looking at it, Tennessee has bigger problems than I thought."
"This is where the second half of the lesson comes in, pet." Spike snatched the duck out of the water and settled himself more comfortably. "Close that eye again, now." He resumed his stroking, nice and slow until he got a little moan out of Xander. "That's right, pet. Keep it closed."
"You gonna keep doing that?"
"Long as your eye's closed."
"I can do that."
"Bet you can." Spike smiled into the warm crook of Xander's neck, stealing a glance upward at his eye, then brought the duck to his mouth, twisting the tail with his teeth until it let out a quiet buzz.
"Shh," Spike said, and slid the duck beneath the water and up a leg to nestle beneath Xander's balls, chuckling at the strangled noise it earned him.
"Whaaa?" Xander asked, giving up the question in mid-syllable to drape a leg over the edge of the tub and thrust into Spike's hand and back down onto the vibrating duck.
"Part three of the lesson, pet. Bonus round. Sometimes appearances are deceiving."
"You--are you masturbating me with a vibrating rubber ducky?!"
"Want me to stop?"
"Article went on, pet, and the lady accused of selling them as illegal sex toys said it was just an innocent little animated ducky. Only for sex if a bloke's got a dirty mind. And what do we learn from this?"
Xander arched back against Spike's body, hand flying back to grip in Spike's hair, "that you have a very. Fucking. Dirty. Mind," he ground out, and promptly came hard enough to see spots.
"Too bloody right."
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