Characters: Spike/Xander, Xander/Angel
Summary: Xander gets puked on, Santa is dead, someone steals his doughnuts, he loses two jobs in a matter of hours and he has to deal with two different horny vampires. Not that he's complaining, he just hates Christmas.
Disclaimer: It may come as a surprise but I'm not Joss Whedon or Mutant Enemy and therefore I do not own Spike or any of his many shagging and verbal sparring partners. I weep for the injustice of it all and play with these characters in the fiction I write because this is pretty much all the fun I have.
Beta'd by kitty_poker1
Santa Claus is Dead
and What Happened to the Doughnuts, Anyway?
Xander knew this holiday season was going to suck but somehow he hadn't anticipated it being even worse than he figured it would be.
Working as an elf at the Sunnydale Mall was a crappy job, to be sure, and, fuck, kids were annoying little assholes. Especially when they screamed or pee'd or puked or all of the above.
People stared at him and laughed, making fun of his elf costume and his pathetic need to be there and be paid for this idiocy.
He was really glad he hadn't gotten the Santa gig he'd originally gone in for, though, because that involved letting kids touch and possibly drip all sorts of bodily fluids all over you. All he had to do was look merry in his itchy green elf costume with its curled shoes and hat with jangly bells, his red and white striped tights and wide black belt that matched Santa's and dug into the top of his dick and made him oddly aroused if he moved too much a certain way.
The tights itched and rode up in the crotch, though; he spent a lot of the time attempting to scratch or move his stuff around to a more comfortable position. That was an extremely difficult thing to do when hundreds of eyes stared him down the whole time he was working.
The chubby little boy he'd just escorted to the mucho padded guy's lap was looking belligerent and mean, sticky from candy his enabling mother had given him and the peppermint cane Xander had just stuffed into his grubby little paws right before plopping him into 'Santa's' lap.
John, this year's Santa, didn't look too pleased at the sticky little hands touching him or the stinky butt sitting on him. Xander could smell the scent of dirty under-roos from where he stood, five feet away.
But John was a good sport, needed the job as much as Xander did because his pension and Social Security were absolute crap; John's hard times were making Xander fear for his own golden years. He'd even cultivated the Santa beard he sported year 'round and at seventy-three and rail-thin, John was very much the Sunnydale Mall's regular Santa.
When the kid started to look green around the gills as John patted him and bounced him lightly on his knee as best he could, Xander's eyes widened and John and he caught each other's frantic glances.
The fat little monster spewed about a gallon of vomit over the side of Santa's throne, directly onto Xander's elven-shod feet. If Xander hadn't been so utterly disgusted, he'd have been impressed by the velocity and aim.
Xander made a face and jumped back with a loud 'Fuck!' that surely could've been heard all over the mall. He stared down dismally at his sodden, smelly shoes.
"Xander, Jesus!" John yelled, shoving the still gagging kid from his lap hastily, starting to wheeze as parents and kids down the line looked disgusted and some even vomited in empathy from apparently weak stomachs.
The cleaning crew was going to be earning its money tonight.
God, a chain of puking brats. What a really fucking good night it was turning out to be.
The kid plopped to the floor and his mother grabbed him with a half apologetic, half annoyed look at John and a full on glare at Xander.
"Mommy, what does fuck mean?" Exorcist Kid asked innocently, not looking at all like he'd just puked everywhere.
Xander flushed, feet covered in stinky, multi-coloured vomit, and yet he couldn't move to run away from this...well. This.
He could hear the crowd grow restless; some people laughed, some coughed, kids cried, others talked and pointed. They'd all moved away from smelly puddles on the floor and some had departed altogether because of the mess.
The mother fixed Xander with a penetrating stare as she spoke to her evil little spawn, "Honey, we don't say words like that. Ever. Santa doesn't like those words and this little elf will probably get...his elf hat taken away. He probably won't even get any presents this year for being bad."
Xander could feel his job security flailing as he cringed under the weight of this mad momma's glare.
"What kind of elf name is Xander, anyway?" the little puking asshole asked, tugging on his mom's sleeve. "Can I have some more candy?"
"Xander's a damn good elf name, you little fucker," Xander mumbled.
John clutched his chest, pale cheeks turning red, more like the fable than he'd been before, and his eyes rolled up. He tumbled off his throne and with a thunk settled at the feet of the mother clutching her child.
Everyone stared. Then chaos erupted.
"You killed Santa! Mommy, the bad elf killed Santa! I'm not gonna get any presents this year, am I?" a child shrieked and began sobbing hysterically.
The line began doing much the same and the mall was filled with horrible echoes of wailing kids and disgruntled, concerned parents and bystanders.
Xander's mouth fell open and he just stood there. Time flowed slowly and he could only move when paramedics shoved him out of the way. He could hear the faint sounds of sirens in the background. He wondered why he didn't hear them before but remembered these were Mall paramedics and the ambulance had been called after they'd been alerted.
He stood in the puddle of vomit.
And that's when the manager walked up and fired his ass.
Clutching his elf hat in numb hands, Xander walked away in shock.
He didn't think he could work there anymore, anyway. He'd just killed Santa, after all.
Xander got home still wearing his tights, albeit beneath his jeans. They were squishing him painfully and making him hot and itchy. He ruefully dug out the most current newspaper from his parents' trash, though he really didn't much feel like searching for a job after the melee he'd been through tonight.
As he descended the stairs and found a near naked vampire masturbating on his couch to unscrambled pay-per-view porn he should never have had access to, the numbness that had settled lifted enough that he felt a little shock work through him.
Spike was jerking off on his couch.
Xander nearly fell down the stairs, eyes fixed on a pale hand curled around a nicely sized cock that leaked copious amounts of precum from the head as Spike stroked up and down with leisurely pulls.
He forgot all about jobs and John, the possibly dead Santa Claus.
Spike's aroused cock was pink. A girly colour but...well, it didn't look girly from where Xander was standing and he really couldn't look away.
Spike spared him a glance, raised eyebrow mocking him as it usually did; Xander often thought it would stick that way. His hand kept moving. Xander's stupid eyes still wouldn't look away.
"Smell like puke. Go shower before you ruin the mood. Was having a nice wank before you showed up to fuck it up."
Xander pursed his lips, stumbled down the remaining steps and pointed a finger at the masturbating Spike. "Stop that right now! I've had a bad enough night as it is without having to deal with your naughty touching! Don't you have any kind of moral decency?"
"Nope," Spike said matter of factly, merely spreading his legs as he shifted downward and rolled his hips into his fist with half-lidded eyes. He smirked. "Make me stop. Come over here and make me."
"Bastard. I hate you."
Spike kissed the air in his direction. "Poor little boy. You've had a tough night, haven't you? Could make it all better if you wanted..."
Xander gave him a look but didn't respond and nearly sat down on the couch beside Spike because he was so tired but figured sitting that close to a masturbating Spike wouldn't be a good idea. He settled for just standing there looking forlorn as he deflated. "I killed Santa. The mall Santa."
Spike stopped stroking, though he didn't take his hand away from his dick, head tilting. He grinned. "Well now, everyone can't claim they've done that. You're not half bad, Harris. Got balls after all, don't you? Not as boring as I thought. This is the sort of story you could tell your grandkids, were you ever to have any."
"Shut up! It's not like it was on purpose! How do you come back from something like this? Everyone hates me and I got fired!"
Spike shrugged his free arm and went back to jerking off. "Semantics. What's important is that you offed someone -- an important someone -- near Christmas and no one'll forget that for a long time, will they? Probably banned from that stupid shopping centre by now. Fucking classic, this is." He sighed, fingers sliding beneath his balls. "It's moments like these that make you savour the holidays."
Xander blinked, thought briefly about Spike being right, that maybe he was banned from the mall, then shrugged and walked through a fog to the bathroom where he showered, trying to get rid of Spike's naughty touching from his mind's eye.
He failed, of course. Spike jerking himself off was something you couldn't forget.
Spike had been doing that a lot lately, come to think of it.
He really couldn't figure Spike out.
Didn't really want to, either.
His new job was working at the nearest bakery making Christmas cookies and other holiday confections. He even got to sample things and would be able to take some home after shift each day.
Until he accidentally sneezed into the batter after failing to cup his mouth or turn his head away, that is. He was then fired from this job in three hours flat.
He stole three dozen doughnuts and a chocolate fudge cake on his way out when Jerry wasn't looking. He felt he deserved it.
He didn't tell Jerry about how he'd cut himself with a knife and accidentally dripped blood into a totally different batch of batter, though. People would think it was Christmas-y, anyway, if they saw a red tinge.
He wasn't going to visit this bakery again for a while.
He came home smelling like doughnuts instead of puke, which was a couple of steps up, tossed the pilfered doughnuts and cake boxes onto his kitchen table and ignored the, again, masturbating vampire right smack in the middle of his couch, completely naked this time.
Well, tried to, anyway. Spike didn't really let anyone ignore him.
Spike took a noticeable sniff, hand cupping his balls as he spread his pale, perfectly proportioned thighs. His hips rolled and Xander glimpsed slick flesh behind Spike's balls. He didn't have to think about what Spike had been doing; he'd done that himself a few times.
God, he really needed to stop thinking about Spike fucking himself.
"Much improved bouquet de loser this time. You smell good enough to eat. Blood and pastry. Love that combination."
Xander felt himself flush and couldn't not stare at Spike's dick again.
Stupid, stupid eyes.
Even stupider dick, he thought as it hardened in his pants and tried to wave Spike a cheerfully horny hello from beneath his scratchy, white doughnut-making pants.
"I don't want to know why you're doing this again, Spike. You can go somewhere else, can't you? Just leave me alone for once and be done by the time I get out, okay? I don't have the patience or the energy to deal with you."
Spike sneered and waggled his cock lewdly, hands and dick moist and glistening in the dim light from the tv. Again with the unscrambled porn Xander couldn't afford.
"Where'd you get the porn, anyway? I don't even have cable."
"Rewired the back of the telly. Your da's been a dirty git lately."
"Ewww, I so didn't want to know that. Going to shower now."
"Could share that shower..."
"Shut up, Spike," he said quickly and high-tailed it out of there before his mouth agreed before his brain could catch up.
Despite having an image of his dad spanking it to lesbian porn embossed in his brain, Xander's dick totally didn't hate the idea of getting a little self-loving. It had perked up at the thought of any kind of sex -- maybe even especially to the thought of Spike sex -- and was now happily bobbing up from between his wet thighs.
Maybe it figured that while he was having a shitty day, he could at least play with it and have some fun, take his mind off things.
Who knew with dicks, though? They were notoriously unreliable thinkers.
He spared it a glare before washing himself roughly and rinsing, enjoying the hot water until the blast of cold air attacking his skin a few minutes later made him jump and nearly slip and bust his head open on the shower head. He whirled around quickly and couldn't prevent his mouth falling open.
Spike looked really good wet. But then he looked good every other way -- covered in goo, fully clothed, drunk, beaten bloody, etc. -- so it wasn't really that big a surprise, though it probably should've been.
Spike entered the shower confidently, eyes flickering over Xander's body hungrily, sans clothes but with the enormous erection he'd been sporting outside. Of course, Xander's eyes were drawn right to it.
Again with the stupid eyes.
"Bad couple of days, eh?" Spike asked, slipping up behind Xander and pressing against his back as if he had a right to.
Xander stood there contemplating his options, then mentally shrugged and let Spike rub up against him, taking his hard dick in hand and jerking.
Sex was sex, after all, and it wasn't as if he had anyone else giving him any.
He needed something after losing two jobs in twenty-four hours, for killing Santa aka John.
Fuck, Spike had great hands. And his breath smelled like jelly doughnuts.
He let Spike sleep on the couch bed with him that night. Seemed only fair since they'd had sex and knew each other biblically.
Not that Xander liked Spike anymore than he had before the shower sex. Spike was hogging all his covers and pressing his body up against Xander and stealing his body heat.
The hard body pressed up against his wasn't exactly a bad thing, though.
Xander eventually warmed but the cold vampire feet like blocks of ice against his calves were something he wasn't likely to forget anytime soon.
Didn't stop him from letting Spike have his way with him again in a couple of hours.
He was too tired and too horny to say no, anyway, and Spike was really good with his mouth.
When they kissed, Spike still tasted like jelly doughnuts.
He woke up wrapped in warmth, with drool on one pectoral pulling at his sparse thatch of chest hairs and a warm vampire blanket across most of his body.
Spike was a snuggler. Imagine that.
He rolled his eyes and literally kicked Spike out of bed after he struggled out from beneath him.
The vampire fell to the floor with a thud and kept snoring after a brief snort and groan. Apparently, he slept like the dead. Made sense.
Xander hadn't known that but shrugged and got up to dress and scout for possible jobs so he could make the atrociously high rent his dad was asking to stay in this craptastical basement splendor; it was due in three weeks and jobs apparently didn't grow on trees like he'd thought.
Spike snored away on the floor like a buzzsaw; he breathed in his sleep, too.
Xander was distracted by Spike's naked body for about a minute then forced his attention to more important things like caffeine and stolen doughnuts -- that had apparently dwindled by seven since the last time Xander had counted them, and that was why Spike had tasted like jelly all last night, the thieving bastard! -- while he skimmed the Want Ads.
The choices were dismal and he was glad of the ringing phone he got in the way of interruption about forty minutes later because his eyes were crossing and his hopes falling.
The Scoobies were in need of doughnuts and a favour that would bring Xander some fast cash.
How could he say no to that? Well, he couldn't, obviously.
He left his naked Spike where he still lay on the floor, though he dropped the blanket from the bed on top of the unmoving dead body because Spike did look kind of cold, and grabbed his keys.
An hour later he was sent to LA without his doughnuts and coffee -- procured from an out of the way bakery -- without any sympathy for the horror of having to see Angel again despite his arguments otherwise, but with three hundred dollars plus gasoline and snack money as incentive in his pocket.
Yeah, he was a whore. He knew why people sold their bodies now. It was hard to say no to easy money.
Made him want to give stripping another go. Apparently, he had the moves and the desperation down.
His car chugged along for a couple of hours, knocking and coughing, static spewing out of the speakers when the radio fizzled out. He stopped briefly for snacks and a pee break, to get his nerves to quit making him freak over the traffic and backfiring automobiles that weren't his and made him think someone was shooting at him, then made it to LA by three pm with the artifact he was supposed to trade for some other...thing.
Giles hadn't really been specific about what he'd needed to get, just that he needed to get it. Giles said Wesley would give him what he needed, just to get there and get the job done.
The Hyperion was empty and quiet when he got there so Xander put the fragile book made of something that looked, and felt, like human skin that Xander really didn't want to know about on the counter and rang the bell in rapid succession until his fingers tingled.
He waited. Then he sat and waited. Twiddled his thumbs and waited. Stared at the walls and waited. Contemplated killing himself so he wouldn't have to wait anymore.
Where the hell was Wesley, anyway? Or even Cordelia.
Just as he was going to get up to ring the bell again -- or maybe go for a sneaky exploration to poke his nose into places it didn't belong -- he heard muffled thumps and saw Angel trudging down the steps, rubbing his eyes with bed-hair that rivaled his own in the mornings.
He snickered before he could stop it and Angel froze near the bottom of the staircase, staring at him with what looked like disbelief and a slight frown of caution.
His open shirt flapped and Xander was briefly distracted by bare flesh paler than...well, not as pale as Spike's but still really fucking white. Defined torso, though. Muscular and toned.
Angel's nipples were a rosy pink and, boy, were they perky.
Xander jerked his eyes away.
Damn his eyes.
"Xander?" Angel asked softly, staring at him warily through sleep-squinted eyes.
"Yep, that's me. Glorified errand boy, ain't I? Anyway, where's the thing I gotta trade for my thing?" Xander asked, getting up and moseying over a bit closer to Angel but not too close while he pointed to where he'd set his skin-i-fied book.
"The thi--" Angel stopped, eyes narrowing. Xander could see his nostrils flare and had a second to think 'uh oh, stupid vampire super smeller' and 'isn't it rude to just go sniffing randomly like that?' before Angel was much closer to him than he'd ever been, with his nose tucked into Xander's neck, just smelling.
"What are you doing, Angel?" Xander squeaked.
He could feel Angel's arm hairs brush against him. He could feel Angel breathing on him.
Oh, God, this was making him hard. Not good when there were olfactorily enhanced people around!
Angel raised his head and levered up an eyebrow, much like Spike always did. Like Father like Son, right?
Probably had a lot of shit in common considering how long they'd spent together while evil back in the day.
Like getting naked and having lots of violent and bloody vampire sex while Drusilla and Darla watched and touched each other.
Oh, he didn't just think that.
His dick twitched quite happily at those images, though, the traitor.
"Well, Xander," Angel drawled, looking almost amused, little bit smug. It was a very Angelus-y look. "I don't have to ask what you've been doing, do I? I can smell him all over you. What? Did you have a little trip to the dark side? Wanted to know what it was like to screw a vampire? You have hidden depths, don't you?"
Xander made a face. "Could you not ruin Star Wars for me, please?"
"What?" Angel asked, face full of confusion. At least it wasn't smug anymore.
"Never mind. You obviously have no idea what I'm talking about and I don't have any idea what you're talking about...so," he said quickly, "let's get a move on and get this thing done so I can go home and look for another pointless, crappy job I can be fired from sometime at the end of this week if I'm lucky, okay?"
Angel stared at him with black eyes, then grabbed him and hauled him upstairs instead. "I think the errand can wait. It's not a life or death situation."
"What are you doing, Angel?! Let go of me!" Xander yanked his arm ineffectually in the vampire's sure, strong grip.
Damn, Angel's skin was softer than Xander would've imagined. Not that he'd been imagining anything.
Who was he kidding? His mind was a fucking cesspool filled with fantasies involving vampires he hated, though he'd never reveal that to anyone, not even under torture.
Angel slammed him into the first wall they came to and pressed his hard body against Xander's. Xander felt Angel's arousal and swallowed hard as his own libido flared to life.
Whoa. Angel's dick was huge. And it felt so good aligned against his own.
He bit back a moan.
Oh, fuck, this was Angel, for Christ's sake!
Though, Xander had always thought he was hot. An asshole but totally doable.
Xander was screwed. Probably literally.
Why didn't that thought send him running and screaming in the opposite direction?
Oh, right. He'd already fucked one vampire. What was one more?
"You do know I taught Spike all he knows, right?"
Xander's eyes unfocused and his mind went back to the shower hijinks and the blowjob that had gone beyond all blowjobs and the hot, naked rubbing and... "Huh."
"Yeah," Angel practically purred, grinding his pelvis into Xander's as his hands pushed beneath Xander's shirt to scrape fingernails gently along his skin. "Imagine how good I am. I've had over a century more practice than he has."
Xander could totally imagine.
"Uh, you're evil again, aren't you? Otherwise you wouldn't want me, right? You're going to have your wicked way with me and then kill me and send my masticated corpse home to Buffy via FedEx. Don't tell me Cordy gave you a happy. She never gave me one and her blowjobs always had way too much teeth involved."
He hoped to God she never heard that because she'd eviscerate him with her tongue but his mouth couldn't seem to shut up.
"Cordy can't make coffee, she screeches and complains, and she's the worst secretary in history, so I think I'm safe from getting a happy from her." Angel laughed a little, stepping back and hauling Xander up over his shoulder in a move that looked way too easy and ascended more stairs.
"No, not evil again. I still hate you and I'm pretty sure you'll still hate me which is why this is perfect. Metaphorically speaking, anyway. See, I know I'll never reach perfect happiness with you and you won't get attached to me so..."
"Oh," Xander said, more blood rushing to his head the longer he hung upside down over Angel's massive shoulder. His dick still had enough, though, because he only continued to harden as it was pressed firmly into Angel's shoulder. "Cool. No strings sex. I'm all for sex, big guy. Ask Spike."
"I'm sure I'll get the opportunity to hear all about that eventually but for now let's not talk about that little pissant," Angel said, throwing him down on a large bed with fancy pillows and sheets.
Angel got naked, having only to remove silken pj bottoms and an unbuttoned silk shirt. The guy sure liked his silk.
At least it wasn't leather. Xander would've been in real trouble if Angel had been decked out in leather.
Angel's cock was, in a word, terrifying, but Xander's own wasn't phased by it. In fact, he got harder.
Angel tilted his head and studied him. "You want to take off the clothes or do you want me to rip them off you and send you back in some of mine? Not that seeing you wearing my clothing wouldn't be incredibly arousing..."
Xander hurried to take off his own clothing. He might've been about to have sex with Angel, of all people, but he so wasn't going home in the jerk's clothes.
Spike would've never let him live it down if he did.
It seemed he was fucked seven ways from Sunday, fucked like it was going out of style, teased to the brink of insanity.
It had hurt at first and been slow going until he adjusted but boy howdy! The things Angel could do. They were probably illegal in half the states in America.
Man sex was hot, butt sex even hotter. God, but he was sore as hell, though, and moving slowly because of the pain but he'd never felt better in his life.
Angel was an animal but that was no surprise. He hadn't gotten laid since the last time he was evil.
Xander should pay him a visit more often.
Xander was definitely going to have butt sex again.
The bed was a war zone when they were done, it and he and Angel covered in bodily fluids. Angel refused to let him shower and he was sure he knew why too, which made him uneasy and also oddly excited.
He moved gingerly with his traded artifact -- a weird looking miniature vase no bigger than his thumb in a tiny carrying case especially made for it -- flushed hotly and, still feeling Angel inside him as he moved, settled uncomfortably in his hard car seat for the too long ride home.
He was sure he felt Angel's eyes on him as he left and from the corner of his eye he thought he saw Angel's smug, but also very pleased, face from the front door staring after him.
After he dropped off Giles' whatsit -- making sure to stay as far back as possible so no one would catch wind of his manly, sexy stench, making excuses when they invited him in because he was too tired from the long, arduous drive and from...dealing with Angel -- he went home and tried to make it to the shower before Spike caught him, but Spike was already awake and staring at him with his head back, nostrils obviously working overtime as they caught Angel's scent on him.
Eyes narrowed, mouth twitching up in a smirk, Spike started in, "Well, well, well, paid my old sire a visit, did you? See that he gave you a proper buggering. How'd it feel with that giant prick inside you, moving around your entrails?"
Xander shifted and blushed. "Shut up, Spike."
Spike got up off the couch, still unfolded into bed mode, remote tossed forgotten on the floor beside it, as he strolled towards Xander. He pressed his nose into Xander's neck much the way Angel had and smelled him.
Xander was starting to get a kink about this getting smelled thing.
"Always did enjoy the smell of him. Might have to pay him a visit myself one of these days. Fuck for old times."
Xander's throat convulsed as he swallowed and his eyelids fluttered shut as Spike's mouth closed over his earlobe and he tugged lightly with his teeth.
"Well, can't say I blame you for giving it up to him; did it myself more than a few times. A shame I wasn't able to get there first but with this ruddy chip in my head it would've been more pain than fun. Now that he's broken you in, though..." Spike wriggled his eyebrows and began stripping his clothing off. "You're going to get the fuck of your young, pathetic life. Might brighten it up a bit. Getting laid often makes your outlook better. Know mine always is after a nice roll between sweaty sheets."
Spike was probably right. He felt a hell of a lot better since Angel had fucked the shit out of him and he never thought he'd feel that way, ever.
He wanted to see exactly what Spike had learned from Angel.
Xander didn't argue, not that he wanted to, and immediately began tugging off his clothes as he headed for the shower. He still felt sticky and gross, various places itching as dried...stuff caught on hairs, but Spike stopped him with a wicked gleam in his eyes and nostrils that hadn't quit flaring.
Spike reminded him of his great aunt Gertrude's dog, Milly. That stupid mutt hadn't quit smelling his crotch and stayed glued to his side with its nostrils flaring the whole time he'd visited with his parents that one year; they hadn't gone back since but he'd never forget having a dog's nose in his groin, he'd been so embarrassed.
"No, don't rid yourself of his smell quite yet. It's hot smelling him all over you. Like having sex with both of you at the same time, which, I'll admit, isn't an unpleasant thought."
Xander's eyes glazed over.
Unpleasant wasn't exactly a word Xander would use to describe that thought, no.
Spike dragged him to the bed, shoved him down on it and lubed them both up before slipping inside him from behind.
The bed squeaked. They groaned and writhed and shoved against each other. Their flesh met and squelched.
Spike touched his cock and jacked him off while he fucked into him with increasingly frenzied movements.
Xander fucked back into Spike's dick while clutching at his rough, scratchy sheets for leverage.
They grunted and groaned and made incoherent sounds as they came, shuddering and pushing against one another.
And when it was over he lay in a messy puddle, but Spike wasn't moving and he really didn't want to either so he just lay there, marinating.
He wrapped an arm around Spike's back as they shifted into a more comfortable position and the vampire snuggled into him and they went to sleep.
He could look for another job tomorrow, or even the day after if he figured he'd need another day of...rest.
He was sure Spike would have something to while away the hours and he'd need recuperation time.
He was definitely taking Spike with him when he visited Angel, though.
Having sex with both and also just watching them get it on were much too good fantasies not to act out.
Spike snored in his ear.
But Xander didn't really mind because Spike's hand unconsciously found his cock and stroked.
He just spread his legs like a good little whore and eventually slept. His dreams were full of naked vampires.
And, when he woke up briefly, his ass was full of Spike's dick as the vampire woke and fucked them into mind-altering orgasms.
He didn't mind being molested in his sleep, though, if he got to feel that good. He could miss a little sleep, he figured, because sex was so very good and vampire sex was even better.
And, even later, he woke to Spike straddling his hips and fucking himself on his cock and that was even better than the other stuff.
Fuck, Spike had great thigh muscles and an ass that wouldn't quit.
When they kissed, Xander tasted jelly doughnuts. Again.
Damn thieving vampire.
Here Endeth the Story
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