Length: 1354 words
Spoilers: Um, none that I can think of off-hand.
Summary: Spike and Xander’s first kiss.
Notes: Written for batpack and The Batpack Valentine’s Day Fanfic Challenge 2005. The theme was first kiss. Unbeta’d.
Feedback: It’s ALL about the feedback (and naked Spike)! Don’t make me beg, it’s not pretty.
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel the series, characters and concepts are the property, copyright and trademark of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Kuzui Enterprises, Grr Argh, the WB, UPN and whomever else they really belong to. No ownership is claimed by the author. This work is nonprofit, noncommercial and not for sale for commercial purposes. Characters and situations not specifically owned by the creators of BtVS/Ats or under copyright, are the sole copyright of the author.
Written: February 14, 2005
Xander had been kissed before. More than once. In fact, he figured he had more than a passing familiarity with kissing. It’s not like it was a new experience for him, or anything. He’d certainly spent enough time in the high school supply closets with Cordelia—no novice to the art of kissing herself—to determine that kissing was a good thing. He liked kissing. He liked being kissed.
And Cordelia? Was an excellent kisser. She’d taught Xander that kissing wasn’t all wet, mushy tongues, that there was, in fact, some finesse to kissing. There was nibbling and licking and sucking. Xander had especially liked that thing she did when she sucked his lower lip into her mouth. Gah! He still got hard when he thought about it.
And then there was Willow—though he tried not to think about that too much, since it had led to badness—where the kissage was limited in quantity, but certainly not in quality. At least, he’d never heard her complain. And he had nothing to complain about, that was for sure. Maybe it was the formal wear, or the near-death experience, but Willow’s kisses had been...magic. Without, you know, the actually witchy-stuff.
Then there was Faith, Xander thought with a shudder. She might not count for much on the kissing front, since she was more of a wham-bam kind of gal, but she had kissed Xander at least once before she had sex with him, and later tried to kill him. He didn’t really take much away from that experience, except, well, experience. Note to self, stay away from crazy slayers.
And last, but not least, Anya, who’d come to him a virtual newbie to the kissing arena, after a thousand plus years of being out of practice, but had taken to kissing like a fish to water. You could trust him on this one, Anya’s kisses could make a monk sit up and take notice. Truth be told, there were times Xander came just from Anya’s kisses, she was just that good.
But this, this was.... He wasn’t sure he had the words to explain just how...good...his latest lover was at kissing. But he was going to try, ‘cause there was no way he was falling to sleep after that goodnight kiss. Their first kiss, and Xander wasn’t sure he was going to be able to recover from it.
First of all, he needed to confess that he’d been kissed by...Spike...and let his psyche freak out and get over it so he could get to the part where he died from the mere memory of Spike’s kiss. Oh, yeah. That one beat out all his past kisses combined. Of course, Spike’d had over a hundred years to practice, and it seemed he’d put those years to good use. Uh huh.
The kiss had been...unexpected. But not unwanted, he hastened to assure himself. They’d been building up to it for weeks—drinks at The Bronze, pool games, shared patrol, movies and popcorn in front of the telly, as Spike would say—though Xander had never admitted to himself that he wanted to kiss Spike.
Tonight the SciFi channel had shown a Star Trek marathon, the original, thank you very much—even though he did have a thing for Troi and Seven of Nine in their form-hugging body suits—and they’d watched a couple episodes. The original had short uniform skirts, skimpily-clad babes of the week, and Kirk! He got the chick every time, and was still Xander’s hero, even if he refused to admit it out loud. But that wasn’t important, now, where was he? Oh, yeah, Spike.
Spike had merely grumbled when Xander told him what they were watching, grabbled the popcorn bowl and his mug of blood, and left Xander to bring the soda. He refused to serve beer with popcorn, it just wasn’t right. The television was already running when they settled themselves on the sofa, and Xander had barely noticed that he and Spike sat next to each other in the middle of the couch, rather than on either end, with plenty of space between them. By now it was comfortable, and it seemed that they’d always been this close.
A couple episodes into their viewing, the food was gone and both men were slouched on the sofa, their shoulders touching. It seemed natural for Xander to rest his head against Spike’s, and normal for Spike to pick his hand up and play with his fingers. What had been unexpected was the hard-on Xander got when Spike rubbed his thumb over Xander’s palm. Whoa, Nellie!
Spike must have known—hell, it was hard to miss!—because he’d turned his face to Xander’s and gazed intently at him while he continued to rub Xander’s palm. His eyes were dark and unfocused, kind of how Xander imagined his own eyes got when he was aroused, and all the blood had rushed from his brain to his nether region. He chanced a glance at Spike’s groin, and got harder when he realized that Spike was hard, too. Spike had gotten hard just from rubbing Xander’s palm!
“Oh, god,” Xander moaned.
“I should get going,” Spike whispered.
“What?” Xander asked, confused. Spike was touching his hand, and they were both hard! Spike wanted to leave now? “Why?”
“I don’t think you’re ready for everything I want to do to you,” Spike said, speaking softly as he shifted on the couch.
“Oh?” Xander squeaked.
“But maybe a goodnight kiss before I leave would be all right, yeah?”
Xander remembered thinking ‘yeah’, but didn’t have a chance to get it out, since Spike didn’t wait for his reply. Spike’s lips touched his and Xander remembered thinking how gentle he was, how soft his lips were, and soon thereafter lost all ability to think clearly. Spike nibbled at his lips, then licked and kissed them, sucking them into his mouth and making Xander groan with the pleasure of it.
Spike’s lips pressed more firmly against Xander’s, and his tongue teased for entrance. Xander parted his lips with a little whimper and their tongues met, sliding against one another, and then Spike was mapping Xander’s mouth, taking possession as if it belonged to him. Xander brought his hand up to the back of Spike’s head and sucked on Spike’s tongue. Spike groaned. The kiss soon grew heated, Spike’s lips pressing harder against Xander’s, insistent tongue demanding more.
Xander’s whole body was tingling. He opened his mouth wide in an attempt to devour Spike, and allowed his mouth to be ravaged in return. Xander moaned deep in his throat, then twisted on the couch and pressed his erection against Spike’s leg. Spike patted Xander’s hip and pulled away, despite Xander’s whimper of protest.
“I should go,” Spike said regretfully.
“Why?” Xander asked again.
Spike kissed him once more. “We’re patrolling together tomorrow night, right?”
“Yeah? Spike....” Spike kissed his neck. “Oh, god.” Spike began to suckle, and Xander melted into the couch.
He was dazed and breathless when Spike finally raised his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
“Are you sure you have to leave?” Xander gasped.
Spike grinned. “‘Less you want me to tear your clothes off and do things to you you’ve never even dreamt about,” he replied saucily, but it was the serious intent in his eyes that made Xander shiver in anticipation.
Before Xander could pull himself together enough to speak, Spike had gotten his duster, gave Xander one last hard kiss goodbye, and was out the door. Xander reached up and touched his kiss-swollen lips. God, he thought, if that was what Spike could do with a first kiss, he couldn’t wait for the second. Not to mention all those unnamed things Spike had threatened to do to his naked body.
Xander shivered again. Yeah, Spike’s kiss had been potent. With the fingers of one hand pressed to his lips in a poor imitation of Spike’s, Xander unfastened his pants and drew his hard-on out of his boxers. Xander closed his eyes and imagined Spike’s own unfocused gaze and swollen lips. He wrapped his fingers around his cock and stroked.
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