This is my entry for [info]willshenilshe's and [info]reremouse's NicelyNaughty!Xander mini-Slashficathon.

My request was from [info]piksa, who wanted h/c, cuddling and smoochies with neither character bashing nor non-con. I made it Spander because she's seemed to enjoy that pairing in the past (and not at all because it happens to be my OTP). I also tried to work in some nice naughtiness since that was the theme of the ficathon. (I hope you like it.)

It's R-rated. It's exactly 1000 words.

Thanks to my favorite prereader, [info]reremouse.

The Incorrigible Invalid

Savoy Truffle

“Here we are. Let’s get you inside, luv.”

“Can’t walk. Carry me?”

“’Course I will, pet. Just put your arm around my neck, yeah? Okay, up you go.… Almost there now…. Xander, stop licking my neck…”

“Wasn’t licking…”

“Xander, doctor said no shagging for at least three days.”

“Licking’s nowhere near shagging.”

“Thought you said you weren’t licking. ’Sides, I know what you’re up to, but s’not gonna work. I’ve got more bloody willpower than that.”


“No, Xander. Doctor’s orders. Here now, we’re putting you to bed. Alone.”

“But I’m not tired.”

“Don’t give a toss. Now stay put or else.”

“Or else what?”

“Or else I’ll find some rope and tie you down…. And don’t look at me like that. Trust me, won’t be nearly as much fun as it sounds. Now sleep. I’m gonna go watch the telly.”

“Damn it, Xander, what are you doing out here? I told you to stay in bed and sleep.”

“I’m not tired. And I’m bored. Can’t I just sit and watch TV with you. I’ll be good, I swear.”

“The hell you will…. Oh, fine, sit down before you fall down.”

“Thanks, Spike.”

“Didn’t mean for you to sit on me.”

“Wanna cuddle.”

“Since when does cuddling include rubbing your arse into my crotch?”

“Since when hasn’t it?”


“Fine, I’m being still. I am.”

“What happened to still, Xander?”

“I’m just trying to get my shirt off.”

“And your shirt needs to be off why?”

“Because it’s making my stitches itch.”


“No, really, Spike, it’s scratchy.”

“It’s cotton.”

“It’s rough cotton and it’s making me itch.”

“Fine. Let me help you. Gonna tear the bloody stitches if you don’t keep still. Better now?”


“Xander, what did we say about the wiggling?”

“But it hurts, Spike.”

“Sorry, luv. I know it does. Want me to get some painkillers?”


“What then?”

“Kiss it better?”


“Stop saying my name like you’re my mother. It’s really not a turn on.”

“S’not supposed to be a turn on. Because we are not shagging tonight. And I’ll stop sounding like your mum when you stop whining for me to kiss it better like a bloody two-year-old.”

“Please, Spike, it hurts.”

“Could lay off the pouting, too. ’Sides, kissing it’s not gonna help”

“Might. Doesn’t vampire saliva have supernatural healing properties?”

“Where’d you hear that bollocks? Vampire saliva won’t do anything for your wound ‘cept make it slobbery.”

“You could try anyway. Maybe if I believe it’s supposed to work, it’ll still help. Like a—what d’ya call it?—placebo effect.”

“How old am I, Xander?”

“I dunno. A hundred and twenty-something?”

“And you really think that after all that time I have so little control that if you can just get my lips into the right general vicinity, I’ll be unable to resist shagging you silly?”

“That’s not why I…”

“Sure it’s not.”

“And hey, even if that was why I asked, it shouldn’t matter if you do do it, right? You should have no problem kissing my stomach. Because you’re control guy. Mr. Nerves-of-Steel. Mr. Can’t-be-Tempted.”

“Bloody hell, shove over…. There… now… I’ve… kissed… every… inch… of… your… wound. Did that make it all better?”

“Actually, if you could just kiss a little lower…”

“Sucking you off counts as shagging, Xander.”

“Not according to Bill Clinton.”

“Xander, you have stitches in your lower abdomen. Anything that gets you off is going to rip them out and then you will start bleeding and I will have to take you back to the hospital, where we have already discovered that they do not take kindly to my slipping into bed to cuddle with you. So, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to forgo the strong and everpresent desire to shag you in favor of the stronger and more timely desire to keep you here and healthy. Alright?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Look, I’ll let you put me to bed and I’ll stay there if you promise to stay with me, just for cuddling and smoochies…”

“Think I can promise that.”

But I need you to do something for me first.”

“What’s that?”

“Say you’ll do it, then I’ll tell you.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I promise it doesn’t involve me ripping out my stitches.”

“No deal.”

“You want me in bed or not?”

“When has the answer to that question ever been ‘no’?”

“So just do this and I go willingly. Otherwise…”

“Are you threatening me?”

“Is it working?”

“Fine, whatever it is, I’ll do it. But you stay right where you are and after this, no more arguments.”

“Deal. Now, since I’m stuck here, I need your hands to be my hands for a bit.”


“Shhh, just listen and do as you’re told. Now, my hands are undoing the buttons on your shirt… slowly… that’s it. And my fingers are reaching inside to brush against your nipple…. Yeah, just like that. Now they’re pinching, hard, just the way you like it…. And the other one… yeah…. Now my other hand is heading lower, rubbing you through your jeans, teasing you…. Mmm, I like it when you thrust up against my hand like that. Makes it hard for me to keep teasing, though. So I’m unbuttoning your jeans and pulling down the zipper and taking you out… uh-huh…. And I’m licking my hand, getting it good and wet so it’ll slide up and down nice and easy… Yeah, I’m starting off nice and easy… now, a little bit faster… uh-huh… a little bit harder, now… yeah… still going… not stopping… not until you…”

“Bloody buggering fuck! Xander!”

“I love how you’re all British when you come.”

“Bloody hell, Xan, you didn’t have to…”

“You didn’t like it?”

“You know I did, luv, but you can’t even…”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll pay me back when the stitches are out.”

“That I will. Promise. Bed now?”

“Hey, who said I was finished?”

“There’s more?”

“Yeah. I wanna lick my fingers…”

The End

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