Warnings: Don't do this at home.
Summary: Spike and Xander have a domestic accident with complicated results.
Feedback: It would be nice...
Disclaimer: All these characters belong to Joss Whedon. I play and play and play.
Crazy About the Boy
Spike was holding up a red and green tube.
“Is that what you threw me?”
Spike looked down at the tube in his hand and suddenly went very still.
“H--hurry up. Want you inside.” Xander could hardly gasp the words out he was so turned on by the last hour’s slow and unspeakably sensuous attention to erogenous zones he didn’t know he possessed. But one thing he’d discovered in the six months since Spike flipped him over and showed him a thing or two about vampire love, his entire nervous system was simply an extension of his cock. All wiring led south apparently. Or at least did now that he had a Spike to take him on the grand tour.
The maddening tongue retreated from the recesses where it had been teasing Xander into ecstasies of helpless groaning and thrusting against the pillow under his hips.
“Here pet, get me slick.”
Xander half turned and caught the tube that had been tossed at him from somewhere behind.
“New stuff?” he said, unscrewing the lid and pressing a large dollop into his hand.
“What?” Spike’s question was slightly muffled as he’d moved up to bite at Xander’s nipple when it became accessible.
Xander reached down for the hard cock nudging against his hip, and tugged it into easy reach.
“Oi. That’s not a pull toy, you know. A little respect, please.” Spike kneeled up to watch as he was slathered with cool gel, thrusting gently into the surrounding hand.
“On yer knees, mate. And brace yourself.”
“Let go of my cock so I can get on with it. Thought you were in a rush.”
“That new lube...”
“What new lube?”
“The stuff you just threw me...”
“S’not new. Same stuff as always.”
“Well, I’ve got some news for you.”
“For Christ’s sake, Xan. Would you just shut it and get on yer knees?”
“I’m stuck to you.”
“Love you too, pet.”
“Spike. Shuddup. Not stuck on you.” Xander’s voice rose to a higher pitch. “I’m really stuck. My hand. To your cock.”
“Huh? I thought you were just playin’ cuz you like the feel of my rampant love handle.”
“What? Your rampant love...” The last word got lost in a snort of amusement. “Since when did you start calling it that?”
“Never mind. I was kidding, all right? Would you just let go so I can get into position?”
“I told you. I can’t.”
“Okay, I’m done fooling around. Get the fuck up on your knees and spread that arse.”
Xander leaned up on his elbow and stared intently at Spike until he had his full attention.
“I’m going to tell you one more time. Read my lips. My. Hand. Is. Stuck. On.Your. Cock.” He gave a sharp tug on the rampant love handle for emphasis. “Get it?”
“Ouchhhh. All right, now we’re getting somewhere. Pull my balls a little bit too?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, dick for brains. Pay attention. Hello-o. We’ve got a situation here. That wasn’t lube. Help me find the tube.”
“Why? You put plenty on.”
“Just find it, for fuck’s sake.”
“Well, let go of my dick. I can’t reach from here.”
Xander let out a screech of frustration and began patting the sheets with his other hand.
“Don’t you listen at all? I can’t let go. THAT WASN’T LUBE.”
“Heyyy. No need for the aggro. Not deaf, you know. This what you’re lookin’ for?”
Spike was holding up a red and green tube.
“Is that what you threw me?”
Spike looked down at the tube in his hand and suddenly went very still.
“What is it?” Xander’s voice was hollow.
“Now don’t go getting all excited, pet.”
“I’m not excited. Couldn’t be more unexcited. Let me see.”
Spike held the tube up so its lettering was visible. Please no. Not that. Oh God, not that.
“Not to worry, luv. I’m sure we can fix this. Got to be some easy way to get Krazy glue off skin.”
“Not if you want it still attached to you, there isn’t.” Xander couldn’t suppress the wail of panic in his voice.
“There, there, pet. Think on the bright side. It’s my dick you’re stuck to. Could have been my ear.”
“Jesus, Spike. Why would I be lubing your ear?”
“Hey, I’ve got very mobile ears. Could work.”
“Awww, fuck. What are we going to do?” Xander lay back and stared at the ceiling.
The cock under his fingers throbbed.
“Umm, Spike? What do you think you’re doing?” A slow thrusting had begun to make itself felt inside his fist. “I don’t fucking believe it.” Xander’s hand was bobbing up and down under an increasingly urgent tempo.
“Just hold still for a couple of seconds more, luv. Almost there.”
Xander sighed and gave up to the inevitable. Dick for brains was in the last stretch. Only a few more seconds and they might begin figuring out what to do next.
“Feel better now?” Xander couldn’t keep a touch of sarcasm out of his voice as he dabbed awkwardly at himself with the sheet where Spike’s come had welled up over his knuckles, leaving his hand wet and cold. And still stuck to a softening member. It was a bit like holding a piece of limp celery. Except not green. And not flat. And not....okay, so apt similes never came to mind when he needed one. Cliches R us, Alexander Lavelle Harris at your service.
The vampire himself had flopped backwards onto the pillows as soon as the climax was over.
“Feelin’ just fine, pet. You?”
“Trapped. I feel trapped. So glad you asked.” Xander was aware that his sarcasm was verging on open resentment.
“What?” Spike raised his head and looked at his lover through languid eyes. “Oh. Sorry. C’mere pet. I’ll get you off.”
Xander gave a significant nod down the length of his body where it had been all systems go a few minutes ago and then back at Spike. He left any further comment to his eyebrow.
“Oh.” Spike sounded regretful. “Guess we should find out how to get us unglued.” He gave an experimental little bounce with his hips. “It’s not so bad though. Kind of warm and comforting really.”
The eyebrow spoke some more.
“All right, all right. Wiggle your fingers. Maybe that will loosen things up.”
“You think?” Xander was skeptical, but anything was worth a try. He was very devoted to Spike, had developed firm bonds even before this most recent attachment, but he was pretty sure he might need his right hand for other things. Like eating, for example. Or maybe holding his own dick it suddenly occurred to him as an insistent pressure from his bladder made itself known.
“Could you wiggle a little harder? That feels quite....”
“For Christ’s sake. Do you ever give up?”
Spike stopped bouncing for a moment to give Xander a sulky look, lips pouted.
“Never had any complaints before, mate.” The final consonant was clipped.
Fuck. He was getting huffy now. Xander had some experience with Offended Spike and didn’t much enjoy it. In the past six months, he’d had to make up to him a few times over some slight rejection, usually the need for sleep after days of round the clock sex. Ask his seventeen year old self to choose between rest and mind blowing orgasms and there would have been no choice. But then, his seventeen year old self had not actually experienced a lustful vampire in full erectile glory. Wore a guy out. And even well lubed, things got tender after a day or three.
“Your rampant love handle is a delight to the world, and me especially,” Xander said evenly. Spike was beginning to look mollified. “But we can’t stay like this forever. Even you must get that.”
“S’okay, pet. I was playin’ with you. We’ll just read the instructions.” He sat up and leaned against the headboard, dragging Xander’s hand backward along with his hips. “Where’s the box?”
“What box? It didn’t come in a box.”
A sudden thought struck Xander. “And how the hell did Krazy glue end up in the bedroom?”
Spike became absorbed in stretching sideways to the bedside table, groping for his cigarettes.
“Spike? I asked you a question.”
“What was that, pet?” Spike looked at him through smoke as he lit up, feigning distraction.
“You heard me. Why was a tube of glue in the bedroom?” Xander could feel a thought gathering at the back of his skull. What was different? Something was missing.
“Aw, no. Don’t tell me...”
“Now, calm down, Xander. It was an accident.”
“You moron. I told you never to touch my Star Trek stuff.”
“I wasn’t touching....okay, yeah, I lifted it when I was lookin’ for my lighter...Hey!” Spike’s apologetic tone faltered as a plausible defence swung into view. “S’not my fault if you’re shite at model building. It was hanging together by threads.”
Xander bit back a near sob. “That was an original Ertl/AMT refit “Enterprise” kit with the smooth hull. Do you know what that means?”
“Umm...can I think about it for a second?” Spike shifted uncomfortably under Xander’s glare. The boy was usually pretty even tempered, if occasionally excitable. This appeared to be one of those times.
“Those kits are made only by specific demand. I saved for over a year....Fuck!” Xander raised his hand to punctuate the expletive, but stopped short as he reached the end of his tether.
“Owww!!” Spike’s hand clamped down over his wrist. “Careful with that.” He exhaled, drawing Xander’s arm closer to relieve the tension on his extended tender bit. “Told you. I am not a pull toy. Monster, won’t deny it, but this one’s no quacky duck.”
“That’s it. I want your cock off my hand THIS MINUTE.” Xander was vaguely aware there was something wrong with what just came out his mouth. In which reality did he not want hand to cock action as often as he could get it. Oh yeah, the one where he seemed to be bonded at the molecular level. He could feel his blood pressure rising. And not in a good way.
“Breathe, pet, breathe.” Spike’s voice was smooth as maple syrup. “Problems are never solved by gettin’ all worked up.” He nodded virtuously and patted Xander’s hand in reassurance.
“Um. Let me see if I’ve got this right. I’m getting advice from the guy who butts heads first and asks questions later? Hmm? That what’s happening here?”
Spike’s hand stopped mid pat and withdrew.
“Fine,” he huffed. “Just trying to be supportive.” He shifted his hips as if to turn a disapproving back to Xander and then sighed as he felt a tug in his lower regions.
“Okay, phone Red. She’s got the big brain. She’ll know what to do.”
“No way. No fucking way.” God, of all the embarrassing things in a life crowded with excruciatingly awful humiliations...just...no way. The picture of himself trying to explain this new predicament hit him in FX glory.
“Hi, Willow. How’re you doing? Me? Oh, fine. Just great. Well, there is this one little thing...”
No way in hell that conversation was going to happen.
“Oh, for Christ’s sake. Hand me the phone.” Spike stubbed out his cigarette irritably.
“What are you going to say? You’re not going to tell her...” Xander could feel his cheeks burning at the thought of Spike’s tendency to present things in the bluntest possible terms. Everyone knew they were living together, but as far as the Scoobies were concerned, only by necessity.
“I’ll just tell her that we...”
“No fucking way.” Xander grabbed at the phone before Spike could reach it. “I’ll do it.” He fumbled at the receiver. Oh God. Whyismylifesofuckedupohgodohgod.
“Um, Xan. I think it would go over better if you’d stop whimpering.” Spike lay back and lit up another cigarette, blowing a long stream of smoke into the air. “Makes you sound a right wanker. Owwwww. Stop doing that!”
Xander relaxed his hand again. Finally, some advantages to the situation. It was like having Spike on a leash. A short leash. A short leash with pain options. Cool. Almost worth it for the sense of control. The Revenge of the Bottom.
“You’re so paying for a new smooth hull Enterprise kit. And if you ever....Oh, hi Willow.” He hadn’t expected her to pick up so quickly. “So, how’s it going?”
“Hey, Red,” Spike yelled, leaning toward the phone. “Guess what we’re doing.”
Xander pressed the mouthpiece of the phone against his chest as he tried to kick his grinning boyfriend in the shin.
“Shut up,” he hissed desperately, and then brought the phone up to his ear. “Nothing, Willow. Ignore him. He’s an idiot.” He punctuated the last remark with a burning glare at Spike who was now making loud wet sucking noises as he kissed up Xander’s phone arm.
“Um, Wills. Need your help. No, I’m not unplugging my toilet. It’s...” Xander raised a protective elbow to lever Spike off his neck where he was apparently intent on raising a hickey. “Hang on a sec. Be right back.”
“Would you give it a break, asshole,” he said urgently, pressing the receiver against the comforter to muffle it. “She’s asking what’s happening over here. Just shut the fuck up and let me get on with this.” He gave Spike one last emphatic glare, and lifted the phone again.
“You still there? Good. Okay...”
Xander drew a breath. He was a crap liar, especially to Willow who knew him better than anyone else in the world. He’d have to be really really careful.
“I was working on a model and I got Krazy glue on my fingers. Got them all stuck together.”
Well, that part was sort of true. His fingers were definitely glued. What they were stuck to didn’t need telling.
“Do you know what will get it off?” He rolled his eyes as Spike wiggled eyebrows at him and smirked suggestively.”
Yeah?” his voice brightening. Thank God. Situation normal, all fucked up, but end in sight. “Thank you muchly, Wills. You’re the best.”
He hung up the phone and turned to Spike with a happy grin.
“Nail polish remover. Acetone. Where’s yours?”
Spike by this time had resumed his supine position and was lazily blowing smoke rings and buggering them with his cigarette.
“My what?” Now he was lining them up and penetrating them in groups of three.
“Your nail polish remover. It dissolves Krazy glue.”
“What kind of a ponce do you think I am? You figure I sit around all day giving myself manicures?” Spike looked irritated. “Git.”
“Well, pardon me, Mr. Butch Vamp.” Xander raised the hand resting between them on the bed and looked pointedly at the chipped black nails on the ends of Spike’s fingers. “Roving bands of stealth manicurists strike again.”
Spike snatched his hand back.
“Wanker. I just paint them over when I feel like it. Sod off.”
Xander groaned, feeling despair rising in his chest again.
“What are we going to do? We can’t go out to the drugstore like this.”
A brooding silence fell over the room as the situation unfolded its various horrible possibilities in their imaginations.
Spike grunted and sat up, dragging Xander’s hand with him again.
“Get Red to bring some over.”
“And we’re going to get it from her how? I’m not answering the door naked holding your dick in my other hand.”
“Christ’s sake. Get your jeans on and I’ll stand behind the door. No problem.”
Which all sounded so plausible that half an hour later, when there was a knock on the door, Xander was dressed, more or less, after some awkward struggling to get his feet into his jeans and pull them up one handed. Spike was still naked, and for reasons known only to himself had slung a towel around his shoulders.
“What.” he said when Xander looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m cold.”
The eyebrow drifted higher.
“Well, I can’t exactly get my jeans done up with a dork poking out the front.” Spike’s mouth twisted dismissively. “You going to answer the door?”
Willow broke into a huge smile when she saw Xander. “Hear you’re a bit stuck up.” She giggled and then waved her hand apologetically. “Sorry. My bad.”
She leaned forward and tried to look into the apartment. “You going to invite me in? Where’s Spike?”
Xander shifted uncomfortably and tried to push Spike back as far as he could. A stifled curse sounded from the region of the hinge.
Willow’s eyes narrowed. “What’s going on in there, Xander? You’re acting strange.” She raised a hand to push the door.
Xander nodded furiously. “No, nothing going on in here. Nada. Zip.” Outside, inside, it was all of a piece. His mental wheels span furiously, kicking up clouds of dust but not a single idea for how to get rid of her quickly. And then they seized up, lurched, and died. Standing there, looking at his friend who had known him since they swapped sandwiches in the grade school lunchroom, holding vampire dick in his other hand, and ohgod worse—Spikedick—it was all too much. He panicked. Pushed the door nearly shut and spoke through the crack.
“Thanks for coming over. See yah.” And closed the door.
“Way to go, numbnuts,” Spike drawled. “You didn’t get the nail polish remover, did you?”
Xander leaned his forehead against the door. “Fuck.” Was it possible for his life to get more stupidly embarrassing? A small voice in his head shook its head in disgust. Bad habit, asking questions like that on a Hellmouth.
Willow was laying down a determined drumbeat behind him, her voice, muffled through the wood, calling his name.
“Open the door, Xander. What’s going on? Are you in trouble? Is Spike doing something to you? His chip. Oh goddess, has it stopped working? Xanderrr.” His name came out in a prolonged high note of fright.
Xander gulped and jerked open the door, a grin as wide as it was phony plastered on his face.
“Willow, Willow. Calm down. I told you. Nothing’s wrong.”
“Why’d you close the door in my face?” Willow’s eyebrows lowered into a suspicious line over her eyes.
“I had to...um...” Think Xander, think! He could feel Spike shuffling restlessly under his hand. If he took it into his mind to speak up...God... it didn’t bear thinking about.
“That the nail polish remover?”
Willow looked down at her forgotten hand and nodded dumbly.
“Thanks. Sorry for all the trouble.” Xander snatched at the bottle, and before she could protest, closed the door with a quick, “bye Willow. Love ya.”
He stood inside, listening.
“Is she gone?” Spike moved closer, head cocked toward the corridor.
There was silence all round. Then the sound of retreating steps.
“All right, then. Let’s get this show on the road. I’m getting tired of being jerked around by you.” Somewhere in the middle of what he was saying, Spike seemed to get taken over by the spirit of incensed love, soap opera style. He looked sheepish when Xander stared at him in surprise.
“Watchin’ too much TV,” he muttered under his breath, and then sniffed sharply to cover.
“In the bathroom.” Xander shouldered Spike aside, giving a firm tug to his dangly bit. “Move it.”
Once inside they bumped into each other for a few moments, trying to figure out how to arrange themselves for best access to the necessaries.
“Sit on the toilet. Oh no, get up. That’s going to be too low.” Xander was hunched over, his head bumping against Spike’s as his hand was dragged down level with his knees.
“Oh, and I need to pee. Hurry up.”
Spike shifted himself with some alacrity, helpfully flipping up the toilet seat as he rose.
“No spraying on my feet. I hate getting bodily fluids on me.”
Xander paused long enough in the middle of fumbling with his dick to give Spike an incredulous look. “Do you even listen to yourself?” he asked distractedly, trying to align with the toilet bowl.
Damn left hand. He was never any good with his left hand. And his bladder was so full, his back teeth were officially christened and launched.
“If you’re so worried about your perfect hygiene, dead boy, maybe you could help me out here.”
Spike rolled his eyes and sighed, but obligingly extended his fingers to hold Xander’s penis. Xander released with a groan of relief.
They both stood, eyes down in a piss trance, vacantly watching the toilet water froth, thoughts miles away. Finally, the torrent slowed, trickled, and ceased.
“Thanks. Done now. Little shake?”
Spike’s eyes sharpened suddenly and he turned to glare at Xander.
“You so cack-handed you couldn’t have held it yourself?”
“Not nearly so much fun, my little cock wrangler.” Xander grinned, kissed Spike quickly on the cheek and then eyed the counter.
“Hop up and we’ll get ourselves unwelded. Love you, but this has been a bit more closeness than I can stand.”
Spike closed his hand over Xander’s to ease the shift in elevation. Enough with the cockpull. While he liked a bit of stimulating pain, out of context it was just plain annoying.
“You do it,” Xander said, holding out the nail polish remover. “Screw top. Needs two hands. Hey! Careful. You’re getting it on the floor.”
Spike had twisted the top off with his teeth, suddenly overcome by an urge for freedom. He looked down and went still. “Um, Xander. Do you see what that stuff’s doin’ to the linoleum?”
“Who cares. We can clean it up later.”
“No, look. It’s fizzing.” Spike jumped down to look more closely, his face a picture of appalled attention. The linoleum between Xander’s feet was not only sizzling, but a bubble of resin rose to the surface, and popped with a discreet burp.
“For fuck’s sake. You were going to pour that on my...” Spike put his hand protectively over his groin. “Jesus, Xander, are you crazy? Have some regard for the family jewels.”
Colour was leaching out of the flooring under a thin layer of chemical smoke.
“Oh,” was all Xander could say as he stared fascinated at the widening hole, dissolving at the edges. That couldn’t be good for the skin. He looked at Spike.
“Women use this on their fingernails? Are they coated in teflon or something?”
Spike shrugged his shoulders. “They are smoother. I dunno. Beats me.”
With the shrug tugging everything upwards, Xander was reminded what his hand was stuck to. He picked up the bottle of nail polish remover.
“Okay, hold still. I’ll use as little as possible.”
“What? Are you out of your fuckin’ tree? You’re not pouring that stuff on my willy.”
“Oh, get over it. We can’t stay glued together like this. C’mere.” Xander tugged upwards to get a better look at what he was doing.
“I told you. Stop doing that.” Spike’s voice was gruff with irritation. “Here, let’s see how much you like it.” He grabbed Xander’s crotch in his right hand and pulled up sharply, wincing his eyes against the zap he knew was coming.
Xander let out a yelp of outraged surprise and pain, rising up on his tiptoes as far as he could go. “You asshole. Let go.” Hampered with his right hand caught fast, he tried to club Spike with the hand holding the bottle, doing a little en pointe dance to keep his balance.
“Bloody hell.” Spike snarled with frustration. “You almost got that stuff in my eyes. Give it here.”
“Let go first. Owww. Stoppit!” Xander’s calves were burning and beginning to cramp, but he no matter how he twisted, he couldn’t shake the tormenting grip.
Spike’s grin was evil, if a bit strained. “Arsehole.”
They each gave a twist to the nethers, causing a simulaneous groan to escape from both their throats.
Spike’s lips exposed his teeth in something that resembled a smile, but really wasn’t. His tone was frighteningly casual through gritted teeth. “I’ll give you one second to stop pulling.”
“And then what? You forgotten where my hand is?” Xander gave a squeeze to emphasize his point. He yelped again when the gesture was returned with interest, enjoying Spike’s rebound yelp as the chip kicked in. Served him bloody right.
And suddenly Spike snapped. Not the most patient individual at the best of times, he’d clearly had it. He threw back his head and butted Xander square between the eyes and then reared back again holding his temples. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” The curse faded out to a frustrated whimper.
Xander had dropped flat-footed when the blow landed, stunned with surprise as much as pain.
“You fucking asshole.” He couldn’t believe he’d been headbutted. “You...you...bastard.” Enraged beyond pain, he hooked his arm around Spike’s neck and started to squeeze hard, biceps bulging. If he’d had a free hand, he would have pounded him senseless, but effectively tethered by dick all he could manage was a python lock.
Spike wrapped an arm around Xander’s torso and began to rabbit punch his ribs as hard as he could, to little effect in the cramped conditions. In a frenzy of overwrought irritation, they caromed around the bathroom, grunting, clawing and slapping.
“Let go, dickwad.” Xander shouted, trying to block Spike’s elbow which was working away on his stomach.
“You let go first, arsewipe.” Spike had thrust his head up under Xander’s armpit and was trying to hoist him off balance.
They lurched noisily through the bathroom doorway into the living room, a cursing tangle of sweaty limbs. Spike’s hair was ruffled and stood in sworls of pale tufts where Xander’s arm had slid over the top of his head. Hooking furiously with his leg, Spike caught the back of Xander’s knee and they both collapsed in a writhing heap.
And then froze.
Feet. Two pairs of feet.
“Oh. My. God.” An appalled female voice sounded from somewhere over their heads.“What are you doing?” Willow gasped, looking down at the naked forms in front of her. Or at least Spike was naked. Naked Spike. Oh. My. God.
Two heads turned upward, shocked eyes staring like guilty little boys caught red handed lifting candy bars from the 7-Eleven. One, two, three frozen moments ticked by as Willow and Giles gazed down at them in consternation.
“And why are you holding Spike’s...um...Spike’s....” Willow couldn’t seem to squeeze the word past her dry throat.
“Penis, Willow. For God’s sake, surely you can say the word.” Giles was more acerbic than usual. “And if I might enquire, Xander? What the hell are you two doing?”
A cold chill ran down Xander’s spine as he looked up at the frowning face. Plausible deniability. All he needed was one tiny little seed of an idea that would explain his current predicament. He was painfully aware of the soft mound of Spike’s cock under his hand and couldn’t stop the nervous twitch that pulsed through his fingers, making him look as if he was palpating the area.
Spike, in the meantime, had leaned up on his elbows, his face caught in a weird stasis, unable to decide which mood to produce for the occasion. Bluster? Sarcasm? A stream of obscenity laced demands for Giles and Willow to explain why they though it was bleedin’ okay to just walk into other people’s houses without a.....but somehow, nothing really seemed to fit. Lost for words, he looked helplessly at his partner in flagrante.
“Um...well...you see...it’s not what you think,” Xander croaked. Okay, okay. That was a start. Something would occur to him if he could just keep talking.
“And precisely what are we thinking, Xander. Do tell. We’re breathless with anticipation.” Giles was a specialist in the desiccation line of verbal delivery, but he excelled himself now.
Okay, getting ready. Here it comes.
“The truth is....” Not coming fast enough though. Keep it going. “The truth is...” He took a deep breath and delivered the rest in a rush. “His zipper got stuck and I was just helping him get it loose.” Spike stared at him in disbelief and rolled his eyes. Xander shot him a furious look. Thanks for the help, asshole hovered in the air between them.
“I see.” Saharan winds gusted over Giles’ words. “And somehow his jeans disappeared in the process?”
Willow had been standing slightly behind Giles, following the exchange with great interest, but was suddenly overcome by a fit of nervous giggles.
“Yeah, Xander,” she said between snortles through her nose. “Why is Spike naked? A little enthusiastic with your help there, I’d say.” She glared at Giles as realization began to sink in. And then punched him on the arm. “How come you never told me?”
“Told you what?” Giles seemed distinctly unamused, straightening his jacket.
“That Xander and Spike are...you know....” She turned toward the two men on the floor. “What are you exactly? Buddies with benefits? Lovers? Ewww, a couple?”
Xander struggled to his feet, dragging Spike up with him by the elbow. He was beginning to feel he’d had enough. It had been a long day, he’d suffered catastrophic interruptus to his coitus, his favorite Enterprise was in pieces and his secret was blown.
And he was still stuck to Spike.
“It’s none of your business, Willow. Or yours either, Giles.” Oh, what the hell. “Spike and I got...involved.”
Spike turned toward Xander in surprise at the unexpected outing.“Now that’s more like it,” he said admiringly. “That’s my boy.” He patted Xander affectionately on the ass.
“We’re fuckin’ mates,” he pronounced with a smug grin. “Take that any way you want. Can’t stand the git, but he’s...oh what did Anya call him?” He posed a finger on his chin, head tilted in faux contemplation. “Oh yeah, a viking in the sack.”
“Shut up, Spike,” Xander ground out, his heart sinking. That was all he needed for the end of a perfect day. Spike in full snark. How could things get any worse.
“Willow, Giles? What’s happening? I found your note....” Dawn walked in the door and stopped, just inside. “Oh.” Her eyes grew large as she stared at the tableau in front of her.
Giles turned quickly and took her shoulders to guide her outside.
“Nothing’s happening, Dawn. What are you doing here? I left the note for Buffy.”
Dawn was twisting in Giles’ determined grip to look over her shoulder.
“Never mind that. Off you go home.”
“Are you kidding?” She twisted free of his hand, her face lit up with delight. “Why is Xander...”
“Yes, Dawn. That’s what we’re all wondering. Where’s Buffy?”
Dawn couldn’t seem to take her eyes off Spike, who was noticeably preening under the attention and seeming to feel he was perfectly presentable with a human fig leaf covering his naughty bits. He gave her a cheerful wink.
“She’s at the school. Infestation of Pervy Scuttlers. Said it would take her a while to get them cleaned out.” She looked over at Xander and Spike. “So what’s wrong with Xander? He looks okay to me. Your note said...”
Giles looked up as if searching for patience and then took off his glasses, holding them by one leg.
“Willow thought Xander was having trouble with Spike, maybe the chip was malfunctioning.”
He put the glasses on again and rubbed his forehead. “She seems to have hit the nail on the head. Trouble with Spike would seem to be understating the situation.”
“Hey! Standing right here. I can hear you.” Xander suddenly just wanted it to all go away. Go back to being lonely basement guy. No sex. No irritating vampires. No possibility of standing in a living room with his hand Krazy glued to vampire manparts in front of his friends who didn’t know he was gay, never mind consorting with their least favorite one.
Spike smirked at Giles. “By the looks of you, a little ‘trouble’ is exactly what that tight arse of yours needs. And if I wasn’t stuck to my best mate, I might just help you out.”
“Did anyone hear me when I said I’m right here?” Xander looked at Spike and then Giles and then gave up.
Giles’ mouth tightened as if he considered replying and decided against it. He turned to go, followed by Willow and Dawn who could hardly drag themselves away from the scene. Their faces had lit up with a kind of horrified interest at the image Spike’s comment had planted in their imaginations.
“Wait a minute.” Xander reached toward him. “Don’t go.” His shoulders sagged. “We need help.”
Giles turned back with an irritated glint in his eye. “In more ways than one, Xander. You’ve been careless and irresponsible before, but this is a stretch even for you.”
“Look, just tell us how to get unhitched without unnecessary damage.” Xander had come to the conclusion that damage was assured. Just how much was the question.
Willow perked up. Problem solving. That she was good at. “Nail polish remover. I brought you some. Didn’t it work?”
“Hell no. I’m not pourin’ toxic chemicals on my...” Giles’ brows darkened and Spike broke off into a mutter.
“My hand is beginning to itch.” Xander looked down with alarm. “That can’t be good. I must be having an allergic reaction. Arrgh.” He began to flex his fingers, pressing his palm hard against Spike’s crotch, trying to get some friction going.
Willow and Dawn watched, horrified, eyes fixed on the action. Giles too was mesmerized, his expression frozen in a look of morbid anticipation.
The only person in the room totally at ease was Spike. He stared down at Xander’s hand working away and then back up to survey the surrounding faces.
“Oooh oooh, big boy,” he intoned in a bored voice several registers above his own. “Do me, do me.” And then rolled his eyes in disgust. “If you’re all so bloody hot for a show, I can...”
His words got drowned out in a chorus of exclamations.
“Maybe we can use gasoline....” Willow blurted hurriedly.
“A razor. I could carefully...” Giles gestured as if holding a scalpel.
“Wow.” Dawn seemed breathless.
“Will you all just shut up?” Xander’s yell cut through the noise. He gave one last agonized rub against Spike’s cock and then forced his hand to go still. “Please, please. Someone help me.” He closed his eyes and tilted his head back in supplication and defeat, consigning his fate to the gods.
“Rupert.” The word, delivered in a singsong male voice, sounded in the room.
Xander opened his eyes warily.
“Surely you can help the poor boys out.”
Giles startled and then sighed. “Ethan.”
Willow and Dawn were scanning the room, eyes bright with alarm. There was no obvious source for the voice. They looked at Giles.
“Let’s see you then,” he said, mouth in a grimace of distaste.
“So glad to see you too, old love,” Ethan murmured, appearing just behind Giles’ left ear. With a quick kiss on the grim Watcher’s cheek, he stepped clear and looked at the conjoined pair. “Well, well, well. Aren’t you two in a pickle.” He stood casually surveying them, hands in his pockets, then walked forward to have a closer look, bending at the waist.
“Ah. Better living through chemistry, I see.” He straightened up with a polite smile on his face. “Krazy glue? Diabolical stuff, that. I mean it.” He winked significantly.
Giles face suddenly sharpened with suspicion. “Did you have something to do with this?” he demanded.
“Rupert, you wound me. Why would you assume that?
Giles nodded toward Spike and Xander who were silent and watching, dumfounded.
“Oh that. Nope. Not my fault if these two are so sex addled they don’t know what they’re doing.” He blew a kiss in Giles’ direction. “If you know what I mean.” Ethan strolled round the room, picking up objects and putting them down again. “Have magic; will travel. I just came when called.” He smiled winsomely.
Xander shifted uncomfortably as all eyes swung toward him. “Hellmouth. Sorry.”
Giles sighed, giving in. “Okay, Ethan. Do your thing.”
Ethan smiled delightedly. “Oh, I’ve been waiting years to hear you say that. So glad you asked.”
He walked over to Xander and Spike and leaned his head close to speak confidentially. “Top marks for enthusiasm, lads,” he whispered. “ But don’t make that mistake again. Too much togetherness makes Jack a dull boy. That right, Rupert?” he said, louder, glancing toward Giles.
“You didn’t used to be so long winded, Ethan. Just get on with it.”
“Done. Ages ago. When I first arrived.” He nodded toward Xander, smiling ironically. “He’s just holding on for fun now.”
Xander looked down at his hand and let go quickly. He rubbed it across his chest, relieved to have it back in his own territory again.
Spike had his head down, feeling his tender bits cautiously as if checking to see they were all still there. And then remembered he had an audience.
“Well, that’s all right then,” he sniffed, edging behind Xander for protection from prying eyes. He’d never been particularly modest, but this had all been a bit too much, even for his ego.
“Ethan. You’re still here.” Giles’ voice sounded uninterested but there was an edge that made his meaning unmistakable.
“Not even a polite thank you?” Ethan raised an enquiring eyebrow. “No, I suppose not.” He smiled forgivingly, took a half step and disappeared as if backing through an invisible door.
Things broke up quickly after that. Giles gave one last withering look at Xander and Spike as he ushered the girls out of the apartment and closed the door behind him.
Xander quickly clicked the lock and collapsed on the chesterfield with a huge sigh of relief. Spike flopped down beside him.
“So, what you want to watch tonight?” Xander lifted the remote. “NASCAR races? Oooh, Dark Star is on tonight. Love that movie.”
“I don’t care,” Spike replied. “I’m havin’ a beer. Long day.” He rose again and walked into the kitchen, scratching his arse absentmindedly.
“Get me one too,” Xander called. “And popcorn. Make some popcorn while you’re out there.” He flicked to the movie channel and stretched his legs onto the coffee table, settling his bum into the cushions comfortably. Situation normal, all fucked up. But what the hell. Passed the time.
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