“If you don’t turn that racket off, I will be personally making sure that you will be wearing that television as a new internal organ,” Spike ground out, one arm covering his eyes. Xander hid a smirk. It was fun riling up the biteless wonder until his chip fired from his own- pretty vivid- imagination, even if it did result in a pissed off vampire laying on the couch. It was less fun listening to a migraine-laden vampire bitch about anything and everything possible.

“Remind me why you’re here again, oh Fangless One?” Xander asked, grinning broadly at the middle finger that was Spike’s only answer. Blessed silence reigned from the blonde for nearly ten minutes before an empty beer bottle sailed through the air and into the glass screen of the television, effectively ending the MTV special on the life and music of Johnny Cash. The music ended abruptly, and Spike relaxed back on the couch.

Xander stared at the screen in shock. “What the hell?!” he shouted. “You son of a bitch!”

“Harsh toke, Harris. Never been so insulted in all my life,” Spike drawled, never moving or opening his eyes, although the sarcasm was heavily implied and easily read.

“I never touched your CDs when you were making the walls shake with Siouxie and the Pistols or whatever, so what gives you the right to mess with my music in my  apartment?!” Xander dragged Spike up by the lapels of his beloved duster, but for all his rage, the vampire remained unphased.

“Firstly, it’s Siouxie and the Banshees and The Sex Pistols. Secondly, that was not music. It was a discord wrung by mad despair. Thirdly, you can’t throw me out because the slayer wants me kept safe, and I’m safest here. No-one would expect a Master like me to be slumming it with a loser like you.”

Xander’s fist swung up, hitting Spike in the chin. “Buffy might need you,” he hissed, “but no-one else does. You’re ten times the loser I ever was.”

Before Xander knew what was happening, their lips had met and Spike was kissing him. For a moment, Xander was too stunned to move, but when a cool tongue began begging entrance, and realisation that this was Spike set in, he pushed the insistent body away, frantically wiping his mouth. His horror only increased when he saw Spike adjust his obviously hard cock within the confines of the tight black jeans.

Spike looked at him, searching for something he obviously didn’t find, because a few seconds later, the aroused expression had left the vampire’s face and Spike was leaving in a blur of black leather, slamming the door behind him.


Spike prowled through the cemetery towards his crypt, pissed off at himself for his moment of weakness. Of all the weak, annoying, soft, idiotic humans he knew, Xander Harris was the worst person he could have kissed. But proximity and their verbal sparring session coupled with Spike’s starved libido had made the brunette seem like a perfect option. If he had to question it, Spike would blame Angelus entirely for his current situation. Maybe if the older vampire had been a little gentler with his Childer- and grandchilder- Spike wouldn’t constantly ascribe acts of violence as affection. Yes, it was entirely Angel’s fault.

When he reached his crypt, he flung the door open so forcefully that the stone wall dented slightly and a fine film of dust and rubble fell to the floor. Opening the hatch to the lower level in much the same way, Spike jumped down into the darkness, ignoring the ladder completely.

He lit a few of the stubs of candles that were scattered artistically around his bedroom before laying back on the bed. His cock still ached with the need for relief. Without wasting energy on getting out of bed, Spike stripped naked, sighing when the cold air hit his hard flesh. Despite his slim build, he knew that he was well above average size where it mattered. The temptation to grab hold and bring himself to a quick, if somewhat unsatisfying, climax was increasing, but Spike knew the benefits of delayed gratification. He started slow, using feathery touches to tease from base to tip and back again. His cock jumped and twitched under his ministrations. A low groan escaped his throat as a single drop of milky pre-cum trailed down from the damp cock-head, coming to rest in the nest of dark blonde curls.

As a human, he had rarely indulged in self-pleasure, having been raised in an age where such things were frowned upon. But when he did… When he let himself touch and stroke and fondle, he couldn’t hold back the litany of moans and curses. Knowing he was doing something so wrong, so dirty, increased the pleasure, made it hotter.

Spike writhed on the bed, not holding back a single moan. His right hand squeezed his heavy balls just on the enjoyable side of painful, while the left played with the soft foreskin, dragging it back and forth over the sensitive glans. As his orgasm approached, balls drawing up and shaft hardening even further, the memory of his lips on Xander’s was all he could think of.

“XAN!” he shouted as the first spurt of luke-warm cum hit his chest. Another half a dozen jets of white liquid landed over his muscular chest and stomach, and Spike let himself come down from the intensity before opening his eyes again, still panting slightly.

“Well, that explains a lot,” said a voice from the shadows.

“Bugger off Harmony.”

“No, I’m serious! Were you thinking of him that time my fingers slipped?” she asked, tears forming in her eyes.

If vampires could blush, Spike would have been scarlet. “I thought I said never to mention that ever again.” Harmony’s lip quivered. Spike sighed. “C’mere,” he whispered, wiping the sticky fluid from his body with his discarded t-shirt before letting Harmony curl into his side. “I wasn’t thinking of him when I was with you. I’ve never thought about him before an hour ago. Probably won’t again, either,” he reassured her, running his fingers through her long blonde hair. She seemed contented enough, so Spike didn’t bother mentioning the plans he had for Harris, especially the ones that involved chains…

The End