Summary: The pesky chip is spoiling Spike and Xander's fun
Spoilers: None, except in the unlikely event that you don't know about the chip's properties *g*
Word count: 1826
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and all companies associated with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. They are not mine. I just have more fun with them
Beta: The lovely and talented snowpuppies, with thanks to velvetwhip for her invaluable advice and unrivalled knowledge of snack food. *g*
Note: Written for fall_for_sx and actually posted on time
One Turn of a Chicken's Foot
“Not of the good?”
Spike rolled off Xander and lay flat on the bed, rubbing his temples. “Whatever gave you that idea, plonker? Could it be my agonised yowling? No, not good, definitely not good. Every time I unleash my weapon and aim it at your very enticing arse, the chip thinks I’m trying to hurt you.”
“As weapons go, it’s pretty impressive. All long and thick and purple-headed and juicy and…scary. Hey, isn’t there a demon that looks like that? With one of those no-vowel names?”
“Think you could stick to the point, here? I want to fuck you, you want to be fucked, and that ain’t gonna happen until we find a way around the sodding chip.”
“Um, actually, I kinda like what we’ve been doing so far, with the sucking and the hands and the rubbing and the me fucking you.” Telling Spike that he was terrified of being screwed into the mattress, as Spike so delicately threatened - er, promised - was a challenge he hadn’t been able to meet yet, not when Spike looked at him with those pretty eyes and pleaded with him to try just one more time.
“Very nice, granted, but I’m not used to being bottom. I like being the top, not the toppee. At least, not every time. After we’ve got the chip problem sorted, I’m willing to negotiate.”
Xander gave up. Spike was determined to do this thing, and he wasn’t going to be distracted. And there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for his shag buddy. If Spike wanted it so much, he was damnwell going to do his best to make sure he got his wish, no matter how sure he was that it’d hurt. A lot. That sliver of silicon lodged in Spike’s brain obviously thought so, too.
“There must be something we can do…”
“Yeah. Lemme give it some thought.”
Xander waited patiently while Spike’s brow furrowed and his ears turned pink. Xander could almost hear the cogs trying to click into place.
“Uh huh, that’s enough. You’re about to implode, Spike. We need expert help here. How about asking Giles?”
“Yeah, good plan. He hates me and thinks you’re a wanker for trusting me enough to live with me.”
“On the bright side, there hasn’t been much wanking going on since we’ve been living together.”
Spike nodded decisively. “I’ve had enough of this bollocks. Rupert, here we come.”
Head spinning, Xander followed Spike out the door. Then called him back and reminded him that clothes might be advisable if they were going out in public. If nothing else, being with the absent-minded vamp was interesting. And his balls hadn’t been blue in over three months now, and counting.
Giles answered the door in his robe, not surprisingly as it was after 3am. Prime vamp hunting time, but not so great for human academics.
“Is there something you want, boys? Something that’s worth disturbing my much-needed slumber for?”
Xander stepped forward before Spike had a chance to insert foot in mouth. He was quite capable of shoving in his own size tens.
“Um, hi, Giles! Sorry about the, you know, messing up the sleep thing, but we’re that other thing. Desperate. That’s the thing I mean.”
“Xander, please come in and join me in a cup of tea. I suppose you can too, Spike. If your palate can distinguish between Earl Grey and Lapsang Souchong these days.”
“You think the boy’s can? You’ve living in a dream world, mate. He can barely tell the difference between Twinkies and Ho Hos.”
“I can too! Twinkies don’t have chocolate coating. Well, sometimes they do. But then they’re called Chocodiles and not Twinkies so it’s completely different...”
He subsided under the combined glare of two sets of blue eyes. “Moving right along now.”
“Well, if you’ve both quite finished, to what do I owe the dubious pleasure of this visit at an unconscionable hour of the morning?”
Reminded of the urgent reason for getting out of a bed filled with warm and naked Xander, Spike spoke up. “It’s like this. I’d like to f-”
“Make love to-”
“…with less of the exploding head and more of the exploding penises.”
Giles’s head finally stopped swivelling and he trained his gaze on Xander. “Would you care to tell me what this is all about, plainly and clearly? I don’t have enough medication to divert the impending migraine.”
“Sorry, Giles. Your head is very important to me. Er…”
“Ignore stumble tongue, Watcher. Short story is: chipped, me. Fragile human, over there in the corner. He wants to…make love. With me doing the nailing. Chip objects. Got the picture?”
Giles passed a hand over his forehead wearily. “Spike, do I look like an idiot? The picture is all too clear. My question is, what are you expecting me to do about it?”
“Somewhere in your library, there must be a spell to disable the fucker. Just for an hour, half an hour, ten minutes! Long enough for me to have Xander, the way we both want. Just once, and it won’t hurt any more. Bloody hell, Rupert, I’d never hurt him deliberately, but it’s not avoidable, first time. All the lube and preparation in the world won’t make any difference - it’ll sting.”
“Ah yes. It does hurt, the first time…”
Giles trailed off under the much too interested gazes of Spike and Xander.
“…but enough of my hypothetical meanderings. No promises, but I think I know the very thing. It’ll be a very quick, generic fix, but should last long enough to serve your purposes.” He walked to a bookcase and pulled down a volume, handing it to Xander.
“You’re the man, Giles!”
“Why, yes. I believe I have the correct equipment.”
Xander was disappointed when Giles didn’t pull out his glasses and clean them, but figured you couldn’t have everything.
They almost ran back to the apartment, Xander clutching a hefty volume to his chest. He plunked the book down on the coffee table in the middle of the living room and stood back, eyeing it suspiciously.
“I hate magic. Did I ever tell you I hate magic? I hate magic.”
“Got the gist, now find the spell.”
“If you insist.” Xander picked up the book again, turned to a page marked by a fluorescent pink sticky note and started reading. “That which can never be lost may be mislaid but will ever return.”
“Right, clear as mud.”
“There’s more. Love is its own magic. Hah! See? You have to, um, admit you love me, spin around three times and do the hokey-pokey.”
“It doesn’t say that! Show me where it says that!”
“Okay, I might have been embellishing a tad. But you do have to do the spinning around and say some mumbo jumbo. Then, hey-presto! The chip goes away for one rotation of a chicken’s foot. Huh?”
Spike came up behind him and read over his shoulder. “That’s what it says, alright. I can’t help wondering who translated this. I have no idea how long it takes for a chicken’s leg to rotate, not being familiar with the anatomy of poultry, but I’ve got a nasty feeling it’s a lot less than we’d like. You’d better go get your clothes off and assume the position.”
“And they say romance is dead,” Xander muttered as he handed the text to Spike and headed for the bedroom.
He’d just finished taking off his clothes and preparing himself – extra lube – when there was a flash of light from the living room and Spike rushed in the door, already naked, erection bobbing.
Leaping on the bed, he pushed Xander onto his front, lifted his hips and started pushing until the head of his cock was inside Xander’s slippery entrance.
“Sorry, sorry. Are you okay? Do you want to stop? I don’t want to hurt you too much, Xan, and I don’t think there’s enough time for finesse. We can stop and go back to what we were doing before if it’s too bad.”
Xander smiled into the pillow, the tears of pain forgotten. “You know, sometimes I can almost believe you kinda like me.”
“A lot more than like,” whispered Spike, kissing the back of his neck.
Xander’s smile widened. “Then I really want to do this. Go on; don’t stop.”
Obeying him, Spike pushed again, and again, as slowly as he dared, until he was fully seated inside Xander. “Oh god, that’s so good. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think so. It feels weird and not so much with the comfortable, but sort of…right. You wanna try moving? It seems like you should be moving now. Please?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” said Spike, the smile in his voice a balm to Xander’s smarting backside. He pulled out slowly then slid back in, the passage of his cock easier now.
“This is probably total cliché, but can we finish this face to face? I like to watch your face when you come. It gets all cute and scrunchy.”
Spike rolled his eyes then laughed out loud, half in relief and half in genuine amusement, and pulled out completely.
Xander turned on to his back and raised his legs, supporting them with his own forearms. Spike lowered himself between them and pushed back home, allowing Xander to wrap his legs around Spike’s hips and his arms around Spike’s shoulders. Now that the pain had lessened to a dull ache, his own cock had risen to full mast and he moaned as it rubbed again Spike’s belly.
After kissing Xander tenderly, gently, Spike started a slow rhythm – in out, in out...
“Get a move on, will you? I’d like to come before I get too old to enjoy it.”
“Yes, master; anything you say, master.” Picking up the pace, Spike searched for Xander’s prostate and found it first try, judging by Xander’s startled but definitely happy yelp.
“Wow, no wonder you like to bottom sometimes! That’s…special. Do it again.”
Spike grinned smugly. “Thought you’d like it, and now we can do it any time we want. I like the Watcher more with every passing moment.”
“Mmm. We should throw him a tea party or something.”
Reaching between their bodies, Spike wrapped his hand around Xander’s leaking cock and began stroking it in time with his hard thrusts into that broad body he’d been yearning for.
Xander arched, reached back with both hands and grabbed the wrought iron headboard hard enough to make the metal creak, then came with a yell, moaning when he felt Spike emptying into him.
Spike kissed Xander hard, then rolled off to lie beside him on the bed. Their fingers entwined and a peaceful, satisfied silence reigned for all of thirty seconds.
“I love magic. Did I ever tell you I really love magic? And chickens? And you?”
Spike laughed, a happy, uncomplicated sound. “Love you too, prat.”
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