Rating: 15
Genre: Humour - sort of
Notes: For [info]_beetle_.

Summary: The sex isn't nearly as perfect as it should be.

It Ain't Pretty

Nasty Shrew

The sex should be great. Something about one hundred and sixty years of experience clashing with pure passion and enthusiasm – the sheer elegance of bleached hair unnaturally soft beneath calloused fingers and pale pink lips crushed against darker ones. Simple really; a law of the universe. Two pretty boys, ergo, two pretty boys fucking must be … well, pretty.

Only, it isn’t. Pretty, that is. Xander is all elbows and sloppy kisses, Spike pulls his hair too hard and he’s not nearly as flexible as one would expect. And Xander pulls this weird face before he comes, like a bulldog in labor, and Spike makes a keening sound before his eyes roll back in his head.

Spike gets angry with Xander when he comes before he's supposed to. Xander gets angry with Spike when he mocks him for it. No hate-fucking ensues. Snapped insults, barely reined violence, then both storm off in opposite directions to sate their respective addictions. Xander has his booze, Spike has his cigarettes.

Sometimes they won’t speak to one another for days, sometimes they meet up an hour later and watch Red Dwarf.

After sex, the bed will be sticky and gross; Spike lazing on the sheets just to annoy Xander, because he knows the smell of sex makes him feel ill. A shower is necessary. The shower is never sexy because Xander is human and needs time to recover. This is a lesson Spike has never quite grasped and he’s stormed out more than once when Xander pushed his hands away or locked the bathroom door.

Sometimes Xander is too tired, or too busy. Spike takes this as a personal challenge. It may result in sex, but usually doesn’t. Mostly it ends in Spike getting a blow job, or stepping out to kill something. Possibly fuck something. Xander never asks and has never wanted to. Neither are perfect, both are learning to accept that.

Their relationship is hardly romantic, either. There are no flowers or declarations from either party. Spike often tells Xander he loves him, but it’s generally said with a sort of weary resignation – he doesn’t expect a reply and hasn’t received one.

They both work a lot (Xander creates buildings, Spike breaks into them), but they like to watch TV together, shoot some pool or go out on a patrol every so often. Not much else. Spike enjoys the cinema but he usually goes with Anita who lives next door, because they both like the disaster movies that make Xander shudder.

A few years down the line and the fights have never stopped - though now Xander is sure that when Spike storms out, he’ll come back. Spike washes the sheets when Xander is in the shower and Xander has discovered that there’s a lot to be said for copulating in public areas.

And when Xander unthinkingly says “I love you too”, the sex gets a lot prettier. Though not by much. They are still men, after all.

The End

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