Many thanks to milady1844 for the fabulous beta.
Spike watched with interest as Xander glowered from his seat in the corner-as far away from everyone as he could get, yet still be in the same room. The whelp was obviously in a foul mood, and didn't care who knew it. Spike wondered why they had bothered to call him; with what looked like fifty-eight pounds of plaster on his wrist, he was useless for patrol.
In particular, Xander was glaring at Buffy and Riley, who were defying the laws of physics, the one that said two bodies couldn't occupy the same place at the same time. Of course, now her habit of fighting in miniskirts made so much more sense.
And really, that was just crass. Everybody knew Xander'd had a thing for the Slayer for ages, and that she was never going to see him as anything other than a friend, but to rub his nose in it like that? Asking for trouble, in his opinion. Not that anyone had asked. And what was wrong with the Slayer anyway, that she couldn't see what was right in front of her face?
He eased around the edge of the room for a better view, wondering when Xander would snap. When Riley's hand disappeared under the edge of Buffy's skirt, he got his answer.
"All right, guys, I'm outta here." Xander's chair skittered away as he stood forcefully. "Call me when I can actually help you with something." He made for the door, ignoring everyone, and slammed it hard behind him.
Spike drifted out after him, muttering a terse, "Goin' for a smoke, aren't I?" to Giles, who looked a question at him on his way out.
Xander was only a block or so down the street, striding along with his shoulders hunched, one hand jammed in his pocket, the casted hand swinging awkwardly by his side. Spike caught up with him easily.
"What's your problem, whelp?"
"Fuck off," Xander snarled without ever looking around.
Spike raised an eyebrow as he paused to light his cigarette. Xander hadn't been this surly even after Anya had moved on to brighter lights and a bigger city. Catching up to Xander again, they strode along in silence for another block.
"So, what's eating you? You've been broodier than the poof ever since you broke your arm."
"Fuck off, Spike," Xander said again.
"Oy! I'm trying to be all helpful, here."
Xander rounded on Spike, fury snapping in his eyes. "You want to know what's wrong, Spike? First, I break my arm. Then I get laid off, because I can't work with this thing." He waved his cast in emphasis. "You'll notice I'm walking? That would be because I can't drive, either; my car is a stick shift and I can't get my hand around the knob on the gearshift. And speaking of getting my hand around my knob, I CAN'T, which just makes a bad week so much worse."
He whirled around and stomped off, leaving Spike gaping in surprise. The whelp was horny? That's what all the drama was about?
Catching up with Xander again he asked, "You've a perfectly good left hand, haven't you?"
"No, I haven't," Xander said, mocking Spike's accent. "You think I haven't tried that already? I did; it wasn't pretty."
"Why not? Why not? Because I'm RIGHT-HANDED, you idiot. I can jerk off with my left hand about as well as I can write with it."
Spike winced, having seen a phone message that Xander had taken earlier in the evening.
Then he had an idea. He grabbed Xander by the back of his jacket, spun him around and pushed him into the shadows of a nearby doorway.
Spike silenced him with a hard kiss. When he felt the taut body against his still, he pulled away.
"I could help. Lend a hand, so to speak."
Seemingly dazed by the kiss, Xander replied, "But you're a guy. You have a dick. That means-"
"A job well done, pet. Since I have one of my own, I'll know what to do with yours, yeah?" Spike persuaded.
Spike felt resistance to the idea drain away, although the play of emotions still flickered in Xander's eyes. His body was obviously willing; he could feel the boy's desire hard against his hip.
"C'mon, pet. It'll be good, I promise." Spike punctuated his statement by rocking his hip into Xander's crotch and curling his tongue around the ear nearest his mouth. He framed his hands around Xander's waist, under the loud shirt, and stroked his thumbs lightly beside Xander's navel.
Why was he was pushing the boy so hard? He wasn't sure, but he suddenly wanted to feel that heat, wanted to know what Xander sounded like when he came, wanted to taste his surrender.
He licked the soft spot behind Xander's ear, then blew gently on the damp patch he'd just created. He felt the goosebumps rise under his tongue, felt the shudder as Xander gave in.
Spike grinned in triumph and bit gently at Xander's neck as he lowered the boy's zipper. The soft brush of pubic hair across his knuckles startled him-he hadn't figured the whelp to be the commando type. Not that he was complaining, mind.
He pushed the unzipped jeans down Xander's thighs, palmed the tight balls with one hand and set up a fast, hard stroke with the other. In response, Xander spread his legs further and wound his good arm around Spike's waist as he leaned against Spike.
Xander was panting now, the harsh breaths gusting over Spike's neck, giving him delicious tingles. Xander groaned as Spike squeezed his cock firmly on the down stroke. On the up stroke, he flicked his thumb over the tight arrow of skin just under the head.
"Yeah, like that." Xander's good hand clutched at Spike's duster, the casted hand thumping heavily against the wall.
"Easy, pet, don't hurt yourself," Spike said.
"I'm gonna hurt you if I don't come soon!" replied Xander, his voice a husky rasp.
In response, Spike nudged Xander with his hip, turning him slightly away, then slid the fingers of his free hand down the sweaty crease of his arse. Xander gasped and staggered when Spike first touched the hot knot of muscle, then thrust wildly, first into Spike's fist, then back against his fingers.
"God! I never knew-" Xander broke off with a gasp as Spike worked a single finger in, just the tip. He didn't want to go too far with no slick, but from Xander's reaction, this was good anyway.
Xander writhed in his grasp, fucking Spike's fist with abandon, then pushing back against the invading finger. "God, Spike now, now..." Spike wiggled his finger. That was all it took-Xander broke with a growl, freezing in Spike's arms and pumping spunk over his knuckles.
Inhaling, Spike buried his face in the crook of Xander's shoulder and absorbed the smells of a human male in full rut; fresh sweat overlaid with the musk of sex, the sharp salty ocean scent of come. Absently, he licked his hand, and the taste exploded on his tongue and reminded him of his own neglected arousal. He tucked the boy in and zipped him up, then leaned against him, subtly rubbing his cock against Xander as he caught his breath.
"Understatement of the year, bleach-boy. Possibly the understatement of the century." Xander's good hand drifted down Spike's side. "But... I've never- I can't-"
Spike was pissed, and more than a little hurt. He adjusted himself, pinching viciously to make a suddenly-unwanted erection go away.
"I see how it is, pet. I'm good for a wank, but not good enough to return the favor. Right, then. I'll remember that, oh, say, next time you need saving from the monster of the week. Have a nice night."
Gathering his tattered pride around him, he turned to walk away and was stopped by Xander's hand, still firmly gripping his duster. Xander jerked him backwards and stuck his foot out. When Spike tripped, Xander spun him around and pushed up against the wall.
"What now, whelp? You want me to walk you home?"
Xander stepped aggressively into Spike's personal space, pushing his leg between Spike's and placing his casted wrist firmly across Spike's throat.
"Yes, I want you to walk me home." When Spike would have interrupted, he leaned, and whatever Spike would have said trailed off in a choked gurgle.
"Over-react much? Yes, I want you to walk me home, because I want you to come home with me. Like I was trying to say, I can't exactly jerk you off, for the same reason I can't jerk me off."
Spike felt a little silly at that-he should have thought of that himself. That's how they'd got into this situation, after all.
"And pardon me if I haven't been around the block a hundred-plus times," Xander continued, "like a certain vampire I could name, but I've never done anything with a guy before, and I'd really rather my first blowjob didn't happen in a doorway. I'd like to go home, where I can take my time, get comfortable, get horizontal, and maybe get naked." He paused and let up on the pressure. "You have something you want to say?"
"Er, yeah." Spike cleared his throat cautiously and Xander lowered his arm with a sheepish grin. "You've never been with a bloke before?" That wasn't quite what he wanted to know, but it would do for a start.
"No. Thought about it, came close a few times, but no."
"Because you're sex on a stick and you offered?" Spike just raised his eyebrow. "Because you're sex on a stick, you offered, and I like you. Even if I'm not supposed to. I'd like to think we could be friends. With benefits, yet," he added with a grin.
Spike raised both eyebrows at that. He'd shagged others--like Angelus, or Harmony--who had a lot less going for them than that.
He pushed himself away from the wall and stood facing Xander. Staring at him, really, and he gave Xander points for not squirming under the scrutiny. Xander met his eyes calmly and waited him out. Spike could see nothing but sincerity and satisfaction, and he made a decision.
"I'd like that, pet. Friends, with benefits." He leaned in and gently touched his lips to Xander's. Xander deepened the kiss, his good hand coming up to curl around the nape of Spike's neck, his thumb stroking where the pulse should have been. Spike pulled away, but pushed his renewed arousal against the boy.
"Mm, Spike." Xander pushed back and opened his eyes slowly. "Let's go. Home, horizontal, naked, now."
Spike rubbed against Xander a bit more, then backed off, took him by the hand and pulled him out of the doorway.
"'Naked, now' it is, pet." Together they headed off down the street.
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