Pairing: Spike/Xander 
Rating: R
Genres: Humor, Holiday Fic, First Time
Warnings: None
Summary:  Xander is careful to wish everyone a Happy Valentine's Day, but who is it he's really thinking of?
Spoilers: vague Spoilers thru Season Seven
Word Count:  1936 words
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em - not making any money off 'em. Dern it.
Prompt Notes: Inspiration for this story taken from [info]tamingthemuse prompt #342: Foodist
Notes:   I've totally misused the prompt word, turning it into a joke, but then, it kinda begged for it, so what could I do?  
Over on The Spander Files archive, LadyQ asked for some Spike/Xander Valentine's Day Fics.  She was looking for steamy, but I delivered silly instead - I guess my muse must have misread her request...



The Kiss: A Valentine's Day Tale


by
Dustandroses


Xander stepped into the lobby of the headquarters of the New Watcher’s Council and announced himself to the junior Watcher and baby Slayer on duty.  He didn’t call them that to their faces. He was in the mood for a little mischief today, but he already had plans for his evening, and they didn’t involve being forced, by a couple of bored and pissed-off teenagers, to sit through a number of tests to determine if he was under the influence of any supernatural beings.

He’d made that mistake once before, and once had been enough to teach him that Slayers and Watchers stuck on guard duty had little, if any, sense of humor. It seemed Spike was the only one who could get away with calling them ‘baby’ and ‘junior’ to their faces. But then, if Xander could throw them around the way Spike did during their training sessions, they might have a little more respect for him, too.

Maybe respect wasn’t the right word. He got along with pretty much everyone who lived and worked here at the NWC, but as the one without any real supernatural abilities or Watcherly training, they sometimes forgot that the guy who unplugs the toilets was in his own way just as important as the person who taught them Latin or the one who showed them how to kill the beasties that crawled, ran, sprang, and occasionally lurched at them out of the dark. Xander wasn’t worried about it, though. Next time the hot water boiler broke, they’d have all sorts of respect for him and his abilities, or their next shower would be a cold one.

He rescued the bakery box he’d brought with him, ignoring the pouts he got from both girls when their efforts to get into the box were thwarted.

“Sorry, but do you want to be the ones to tell Buffy that her cupcakes got confiscated at the front door?”

The two drew back in horror. He’d thought as much. As he walked away, he tossed them both a small chocolate heart. “Happy Valentine’s Day!” He was a sucker for a pretty smile.

Losing a good number more pieces of chocolate as he went, Xander made his way up to Giles’ library on the second floor. It was officially one of the research libraries that were shared by the Watchers (and occasional Scoobies) who lived on the second floor of the East Wing, but since it was right next door to the suite Giles had claimed as his own, everyone called it his – including Giles.

The group ensconced in the library had dwindled since he’d left this afternoon to run a few errands; they were down to the core Scoobies plus one annoyingly sexy, bleached-blond vampire. That was fine with Xander, he only had a few chocolate hearts left.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Ladies!” It was rare to see the three in one spot these days. Willow was either off with the coven or catching up on her undergrad classes so she could start her Masters degree in the fall. Dawn was a senior in High School, with all that entailed, drama and angst and homework and boyfriends that often changed their minds about Dawn once they met her big sister and heard Buffy’s warnings/threats. Buffy ran the Slayer end of the Council with a steady hand that threatened to rival Giles’ own. She also did most of the traveling these days, running from one hot spot to another, trying to keep the worst of the evil at bay while they rebuilt and readied the next generation of Slayers for the battle.

They were all in town today, and more than happy to see Xander and take a break from debating the best way to handle the Demon du Jour. He was glad he could offer them a chance for a time out; they were all looking a bit bedraggled.

“So, let’s see what I have in my box of goodies, shall we?”

He wiggled his eyebrows and all three giggled, shaking their heads at his innuendo. Sweet! Xander congratulated himself on his talents. He had his own superpowers: he could turn two powerful, grown women into teenagers with a wiggle of his eyebrows. He handed out the ornately decorated cupcakes, flowers and hearts intertwined on a background of pink icing.

Next he brought out two of Giles’ favorite donuts, but in place of the rainbow colored sprinkles they usually sported, the donuts were covered in tiny candied hearts in a variety of pinks and reds.

Xander shrugged. “Sorry, G-Man, this was the best I could do, this time of the day. All the regular sprinkles were gone.”

Giles took the donuts with a sigh. “I’m sure you did your best, Xander. Thank you.”

“No problem.”

That left the bleached menace, who was staring morosely at his boots, sitting as far away from the happily chatting women at the table as possible, and still be considered part of the group. Willow caught Xander’s hand and pulled him into their conversation for a moment, and when he glanced up, Spike was standing and announcing to the room that if everyone else was taking a break, that he’d take one too, and grab himself something to eat.

Spike was out the door before Xander could break away, grabbing the bag he’d saved for last as he raced after Spike. He had to move fast to catch him before he was too far away to stop.

“Yo, Bleach for Brains! Where the hell do you think you’re going? Spike, wait up!” When he used Spike’s name, the vamp finally stopped and turned around, waiting with arms crossed over his chest as he frowned at Xander.

“What do you want, Harris?”

Xander caught up with him as he spoke. “I’m hungry. So unless you have something I’d like more than a candy sprinkled donut,” Spike gazed rather brazenly at the pulse point on Xander’s neck, and Xander felt a warm, delicious jolt clear through to his bones, “…I’ve got elsewhere to be.”

Xander’s highly trained skills of confusion and distraction kicked in as he fought to deal with the fact that one look from Spike had just caused a spontaneous and rather powerful erection. “Not interested in donuts with sprinkles, Spike? What are you, prejudiced? Why, I’ll have you know that donuts are good for you.”

“I bet I could make you forget all about those ridiculous donuts.”

Spike sauntered closer, and just as happened every other time he spent more than five seconds in the same room with Spike, Xander was reminded anew that the vampire was pure sex on legs.

Spike stopped well inside Xander’s personal space, and took a long sniff, smiling greedily at what Xander imagined must be a rather heady mixture of horny, embarrassed human. Why he’d thought he could hide his recent attraction to Spike he would never know, but it was perfectly clear to Xander that the cat was out of the bag.

‘Bob and weave, Xander,’ he told himself, ‘bob and weave.’ Though why he was thinking in terms of boxing he’d never know since, as in the case of every other athletic sport, ten seconds in the ring with Spike and he'd find himself flat on his back, staring up at a smirking vamp. He blinked, eyes glazed, at that unfortunate imagery. The thought of Spike kneeling above a prone Xander hit him with a punch as another surge of arousal rushed through him.

His mouth kicked into gear, without the permission of his brain, if the level of babble he was emitting was any indication. “What did those donuts ever do to you? You’re prejudiced against food, aren’t you? You’re a food bigot! Admit it – you’re a – a, a, a racist, I mean a foodist!”

“Shut up, Harris,” Spike growled at him.

“It’s true, isn’t it? You’re a foodist,” he accused Spike, refusing to admit, even to himself, that he was misusing the word badly.

“That isn’t even a word, you idiot.”

“Is too, and I can prove it.” Xander crossed his arms over his chest, chin held high.

“Don’t bother,” Spike snarled. “I can think of a better use for that annoying, sexy mouth of yours.”

With that declaration, Spike trapped Xander against a convenient wall. Before he knew what was happening, Spike had taken his mouth in a hot and steamy kiss. Xander dropped the bag from the bakery as he grabbed Spike’s arms, his thoughts racing. He’d been thinking about this for months, and now that he had Spike in his arms, all he could think about were stupid, trivial things like breathing. He couldn’t imagine why, when he could be concentrating on the taste of Spike’s mouth, and the way his tongue swirled around Xander’s, making him moan with pleasure.

Spike pulled away, smirking, and Xander opened his mouth to say something that was sure to be stupid, but Spike put his fingers across Xander’s lips.

“Why don’t we just leave it there for now, eh? And if you decide you’d like more of the same later, well, you know where to find me, now don’t you?” Spike’s fingers left trails of icy fire on his lips, tracing down to his chin before sliding off as Spike moved away from him.

Xander stared at Spike as he walked away, admiring the way his ass moved in those tight black jeans of his. But there was something… Something that he had intended to do before The Kiss - which deserved capital letters, in his humble opinion - had swept away all his thoughts. The image of Spike licking cream off his lips hit him in the gut, and he gasped. Oh, yeah. That was it.

“Spike!”

The vamp paused at the door to the kitchen, looking back, eyes narrowed as he studied Xander. Xander picked up the bag he’d dropped when Spike had kissed him. ‘Spike had kissed him!’ his brain reminded him excitedly. Xander shook his head to clear it as he walked to the door, and handed the bag to Spike.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Spike took the bag hesitantly, without looking inside. “Thanks, Harris,” he said as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Xander rubbed his hands together excitedly as he pictured Spike opening the bag and pulling out the cream-filled donut. The miniature vampire with blood dripping off one fang drawn in icing across the top had been well worth the extra cost.

He heard the full-throated laugh from his spot in the hall, and grinned as he imagined Spike eating the donut, dipping it in his blood. He must be far gone if that image didn’t gross him out, but it didn’t. As a matter of fact, it kept him company all evening while they hammered out a plan to take down the current big bad the next night. It was still with him as he stood outside Spike’s door later that evening, biting his lip nervously.

Spike opened the door and pulled him inside. Then he pushed Xander against the back of the door and kissed him senseless, which wasn’t that hard to do, since Xander didn’t have far to go. He was pleased to note, however, that Spike threw himself into the task wholeheartedly. When they finally broke apart, Spike stared at him with that heat-filled gaze of his, and ran his tongue over his teeth as he looked Xander up and down, pausing at the significant bulge in Xander’s pants with a sly grin.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Xander,” he said. Then he tossed Xander onto the bed and pounced.




The End




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