The Yule Chanukah Solstice Winter Festival Costume Party

by
Dragon's Phoenix

“Oh, Mama.” Xander hadn’t imagined that any Slayer could look um, well hot wasn’t the word he was looking for, maybe girly but there was nothing girly about a pink corset on that figure, and womanly didn’t cover it since that didn’t really cover sinfully sexy. The girl stopped. Oh shit, ran through Xander’s head as she started turning toward him. I am so dead in three… two… one.

There was something familiar about the short bleached blonde curls, but Xander couldn’t quite recognize the face: the eyes were done up, shades of pink, silver, and red glittering at him from above long, dark lashes; the cheekbones were so sharp you could cut diamonds on them; the lips were bright red. “See something you like?”

“Spike?”

She, no he, walked to Xander, hips swaying from side to side in a way Xander would have sworn only a girl could pull off. As a finger drifted down his chest, Xander, wishing he had something (a book, anything!) to hide the bulge, stood shock-still, frozen in place. “In the flesh,” Spike added. Xander breathed a sigh of relief as the finger stopped at the top of his sweats, but before he could even start to think about making his escape – hopefully before the humiliation kicked in – Spike’s hand was cupping his cock. “Zat your costume? A horny dweeb?”

And let the humiliation begin, Xander was thinking until Spike squeezed, tightening the pressure. “What’s that?” Spike asked, stepping back with an amused smirk.

“Glurble?”

“Your costume?” Spike prompted.

“Ah. Costume. Back in room.”

Pulling a pink fan out of nowhere, Spike tapped it playfully on Xander’s shoulder. Whipping the fan open and fluttering it before his face, Spike added, “If you play your cards right, I’ll save you a dance.” Gliding back toward the party, Spike turned his head, calling over his shoulder, “After all, you are one of the few eligible bachelors in town this evening.”

“Is it wrong that I’m wishing for that ‘turn into your costumes’ spell?” Xander muttered after Spike had turned the corner. With a shake of his head, Xander turned back the way he’d come, heading for the command center, figuring he could hide out there and avoid whatever humiliating mess Spike had planned. At least that was the plan until Willow called out his name.

Willow’s dress was some gauzy white and pink thing. Her hair had been bleached, as blonde as Spike’s, with curly ringlets hanging down to her waist. It was the second girliest costume Xander had seen that evening, and he’d only seen two so far. “Where’s your costume?” she asked.

“Ah, I’m thinking of not,” he started. When Willow didn’t reply, he added, “going to the party that is. There’s a lot of work, um, I mean the girls should get a break so I thought I’d take over downstairs.”

“Xander.”

“Um, yeah?”

Grabbing him by the arm, she started dragging him toward his room. “We’re totally covered and everyone gets a bit of party time, which you know since you made up the schedule. So what’s the real problem?”

“A costume party doesn’t seem all that Christmasy?” He deliberately didn’t cross his fingers, knowing she’d catch him at it and know he was lying.

“Oh yeah, like your Christmas tradition of sleeping in the front yard was any better, not that it would work with all that snow outside the castle. And besides, this isn’t a Christmas party.” She punched him in the arm.

“Ow,” Xander complained. “And yes, I know it’s a Yule Chanukah Solstice Winter Festival Kwanzaa, um, and some other holidays I don’t remember, party. It just… doesn’t seem traditional.”

“Xander.” She sounded exasperated. “Everyone has different traditions, so we’re doing something non-traditional. That’s the whole point, or well, I think so. I’m not really sure where the costume party idea came from, but it is really popular.”

“Night shift,” Xander said.

“Huh?”

“The costume party idea came from the night shift. The girls were bored, talking to keep themselves awake, and Rhonda had just seen Much Ado About Nothing, although I don’t really know what that has to do with costumes.”

“Oh,” Willow replied. “That makes sense.” Stopping before Xander’s door she added, “And you’re coming. It’ll be fun.”

“Fun? Oh right, until we all turn into our costumes.”

“That is not going to happen,” she said, pushing him toward the door. Xander, leaning against the frame, gave her a look. “It’s not,” she repeated. “Well, OK, I’m Glinda so that, just in case, even though I’m sure it won’t happen, I’ll still have my mojo.” As she waved her wand at him, Xander felt something shift on his head.

“What was that?”

“Relax, I just did your hair, gave you that Superman curl. It looks cute,” she said with a giggle.

He sighed. “Willow, I’m going to be the only guy there.”

“No you won’t. Andrew’s already there,” she said.

“Yeah, like that’s encouraging.”

“And Spike,” Willow piped up. “He’ll be there. He promised. Come on, who’s manlier than Spike?”

Xander thought back to the pink corset and blushed. “I, um…” Deciding to try again, he added, “I’ve got another problem. Those tights are… Well, I’m gonna feel rather exposed.”

Crossing her arms, Willow said, “That was your call. Do I have to break out resolve-face?”

“No,” Xander said, hanging his head. “I’ll be there in a bit.”

“I’ll wait,” Willow chirped. “And hurry up. I haven’t seen Kennedy’s costume yet.”

Closing the door behind him, Xander looked at the costume laid out on the bed. “I am so doomed.” He thought about Spike’s outfit and felt himself getting hard. Banging his head against the wall, he added, “Doomed, doomed, doomed.” Picking up his Superman costume, he muttered, “Maybe I can wrap the cape around the front.” He thought about asking Willow if she knew any kind of delusting spell, but then he’d be having a conversation, with Willow, about sex. So not happening.

Poking his head out the door, Xander said, “Look, I need to shower. I’ll be there. I promise. Just give me some time.”

Willow glared at him for a second and then waved her wand again. A tiny green light buzzed around Xander’s head. “Hey, what was that for?”

“So I can find you if you don’t show up. You’ve got half-an-hour.”

As he shut the door, Xander blessed Giles for insisting that he have one of the few rooms with its own bathroom. Trying to work around Slayer schedules to get into the communal showers would have been almost impossible on the best of days; with everyone getting ready for the party, it would be impossible that night.

Tossing his clothes to the floor, Xander stepped into the shower. Shutting his eyes and letting the hot water wash over him, Xander fell back against the tiles. He started rubbing his hand up and down his cock, but then it wasn’t his hand, it was Spike’s. Closing his eyes, he could see the vampire decked out in that pink corset with the gold trim, dressed in the most feminine costume Xander could imagine, but as male as a bull in heat. Increasing the speed, Xander imagined Spike on his knees, taking just the tip of Xander’s cock into his mouth, past those red, red lips. As Xander’s hips arched forward, Spike, taking Xander further into his mouth, tickled his cock with his tongue, and then swallowed him down, taking the whole shaft into his mouth. Xander came with a shout.

Panting heavily, Xander thought about Spike’s costume as the hot water battered against his skin. Thinking better safe than sorry, he turned the temperature all the way to cold. Shivering under the icy spray, he lathered up and rinsed off twice, not wanting Spike to pick up any stray scents of cum.

The skin-tight costume was hard to pull on, and Buffy was banging at the door before he was done. “Xander? Willow sent me looking for you. She’s threatening to sic a raincloud on you, which I, um, really didn’t get.”

After one quick tug on the costume, to get all the wrinkles out, Xander yanked open the door. “It’s from Hitchhiker’s.” When Buffy continued to look confused, he added, “It’s OK. It’s an idle threat.” Taking in her jeans and t-shirt, he added, sounding something like a parent chiding a child, “And where’s your costume? If I have to wear this…” He gestured toward his costume, letting the rest of the sentence hang.

“My costume is me.” Buffy folded her arms and tapped her foot loudly against the floor, which was a real trick in sneakers.

“Getting a lot of slack for the lack of costume?”

“I’m not turning into anything other than myself,” she added.

“You know Willow’s got that covered, right?” Xander asked.

“Which is why she’s Glinda, you’re Superman, Andre is, um,” waving her hand, she added, “Star Wars guy, and Kennedy is dressed as Wonder Woman.”

Since she had a good point, Xander held out one arm. “Shall we go?”

“We shall,” Buffy said, taking his arm.

The party was in full swing when they arrived. Xander’s gaze darted around the room, checking out the decorations and costumes and totally not looking for Spike, mainly because he was too easy to spot, doing some sort of formal dance with a Slayer whose long brown hair made her the perfect Jesus although the beard had to be a fake. Spike had somehow encouraged over a dozen Slayers to join in the dance, each partnered up and dancing formally in the center of the room. “Huh,” Buffy said. “It looks like something out of Jane Austen, well not the clothes obviously.”

Over the lyrics, “I am stretched on your grave and will lie there forever,” Xander commented, “Who would have thought that funky kind of dancing would go so well with Dead Can Dance?”

“Care to join them?” Buffy offered.

“Um, thanks, but my two left feet? So not up to that.”

Every time Xander looked, Spike was the center of attention, always in eyesight, but never nearby. When Dawn – dressed as an Emperor penguin and what was up with that – dragged Xander to the buffet so he could carry her plate, Spike juggled oranges, tossing them back and forth with Rhonda. Xander and Andrew, who was dressed as Lando Calrissian in the dorkiest short cape Xander had ever seen, were arguing over the best way to strike with a light saber as Spike tossed candy canes into the crowd. While Leah tried to teach Xander the steps to Spike’s dance, Spike, having leapt onto a table, was doing his best impression of Sid Vicious singing “Silent Night”, which so violated Willow’s no Christmas songs rule but seemed to be OK because she was there, not three feet away, staring at Spike and giggling. As Rowena, dressed up as some kind of Irish legendaryish creature, mixed him up a drink based on the colors of the alcohols, Spike was busy twirling a dreidel with two Slayers who looked so much like orthodox Jewish men that Xander had to look twice.

Around midnight the shift changed; about a half-a-dozen Slayers left the party for the command center and their counterparts, who’d been working till then, came up to join the fun. When Dianne came in, Xander called her over with a nod. “How’s it going?”

“It’s been a quiet night, mostly. There was a bit of a stir-up in Madrid, but the local Slayers handled it.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” As Xander patted her on the shoulder, thought maybe it was time to call it a night. He’d had an early day and he could probably sneak out without anybody noticing…

“Care for a dance, pet?” It was Spike, standing before him in all his pink glory. Xander made a mental note never to use that phrase in front of Spike, given that he sort of liked being alive.

“Um, no, I mean, thanks and all, but Leah tried to show me earlier, and I almost twisted my ankle.”

“What are you nattering on about?” Spike asked.

“That dance. Too complicated.”

As Spike’s look of confusion blinked itself away, he pulled Xander in close. “Oh, that. Over and done with. This is just a bit of swaying, gentle-like, side to side to side.” Spike pressed himself against Xander. “Nice, isn’t it?”

Xander’s gulp was audible. Maybe I should have asked Willow for that delusting spell, he thought.

“What?” Spike asked. “Don’t like boys? Can get that fixed.”

“That’s not,” Xander started. He pulled out of Spike’s arms. “There will be no mojoing with my mind.”

Spike tilted his head for a moment before giving it a bit of a shake. “No mojo, at least not on you. Wilow's got this spell, can turn people into their costumes, temporary like.” Puffing out his chest, he added, “Once you’ve got a taste, I figure you wouldn’t mind my manly bits.”

“I, uh, what?”

“Come on,” Spike said, leaning in close to Xander, whispering in his ear. “It’s not like my manly glory is repulsive or anything.”

“No. Wait. You’d become?” Xander’s hands moved down, forming the silhouette of an hourglass. As he stared at Spike, a shudder ran down his frame. “No. No way.”

Spike’s face lost all its animation. “I am that repulsive.”

“No, no.” Xander grabbed Spike’s hand. “No. Not repulsive at all. That whole you becoming a girl thing, I… gyah.”

Giving Xander a wary look, Spike said, “You saying you like me as I am?”

Xander gave him a grin. “How could I not? All that manly glory is so glory, um, glorifiable?”

“Git,” Spike said, stepping in for a kiss.

As the applause burst around them, Xander turned beet red. Peering past Spike’s shoulder at the roomful of Slayers who had apparently decided to take a personal interest in his love life, he said, “Maybe we could take this somewhere that’s not here?”

“Sure,” Spike said, wrapping an arm around Xander’s waist. As they made their way to the door, he called out, “Come on, give us a bit of privacy here.” But he was glancing around the room, making sure everyone saw him and Xander leaving together.

In the privacy of the hall, Xander asked, “So you really would have done that whole turning into a girl thing? Gyah, I can’t even think about it.”

With a shrug, Spike said, “Well that’s good since Willow doesn’t actually know that spell.”

As Xander stopped, Spike spun around until they were facing each other. “You lied to me?” Xander asked.

“Let’s say I was a bit creative with the truth.”

“And what if I’d been all for it?”

With a shrug, Spike said, “I’d have carried you off to my room, chained you to the bed, and shagged you until you’d given in.”

“Spike,” Xander said seriously. “You know you can only do that if the person wants to be, um shagged.”

Spike leaned in until their lips were millimeters apart. “You saying you don’t want me?”

Xander licked his lips. “Um, no, or maybe? What was the question again?”

“You. Me. Shagging.”

“Oh, yeah.” For a moment it looked like Xander was about to kiss Spike, but then he shoved him away. “Hey, I’m mad at you, lying to me and all that. I bet Willow does too know that spell or,” he added as his eyes lit up, “I bet she could give you a nice set of tits.”

“We’re not girlifying me.”

“You’d still be you,” Xander said, “Just with tits on top of what you’ve already got.”

“She wouldn’t go for it.” Spike didn’t sound quite certain.

“Not if you asked her, no, but I’ve known Willow since kindergarten. For me, she’d do it.”

Spike pulled Xander into a hug, squeezing him tightly, stopping just shy of hurting him. “If you ever have my body mojoed, I will never chain you to the bed and have my wicked way with you.”

Xander’s struggles didn’t help him get away but did rub him up against Spike. “Hmmm, tits or chains? Touch choice.”

“Wanker,” Spike said, and then he kissed him.

The End