Truth Denied

by Perverted Pages


He found Spike stretching and warming up backstage. He tried hard not to be obvious about his staring, suddenly thankful he was no longer a teenager and able to control his erections. Old age had some benefits. Alright fine, older age.

He couldn’t help but notice becoming human hadn’t taken away Spike’s agility or grace, his balance was still impeccable… and he was obviously very very bendy. Xander watched him slide gracefully into a wide split, grabbing his toes and pulling himself flat, forehead to his shin, and repeating on the other side. Very… bendy… Is it getting warm in here?

A smirk teased Spike’s lips, “Much easier to get warmed up if you actually move…,” he curled his tongue behind his teeth, “Unless you’re warm enough already?”

“WHAT? No! No, I need… to… water! I need to fill my bottle. I’ll be, uh… right... uh... back.” Xander left to fill his bottle at the sink, mentally slapping himself repeatedly. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid! He sighed to himself, wanting nothing more than to swirl down the drain, never to come up again. Why oh why can Spike turn me into a gibbering idiot? It’s like he’s my kryptonite! Not that I’m Superman, I’m so not, but he just. AGH! Stupid ex-vampire! With your blond hair, BLEACHED blond hair! And and and… bendy… bendy, whoa bendy He hung his head, trying in vain to think of anything else.

When he got back, Spike was standing, bouncing on his toes, wearing baggy grey sweat pants and nothing else. Spike shot him a quick look and Xander took it as a cue to get ready. He shed his clothing to match Spike, his own sweat pants a well worn navy blue, looking like an almost drab grey from all the washings. He warmed up quickly, grimly trying not to think of how much more flexible Spike was than him, or what such flexibility meant for other… activities. He just warmed up as best as he could then straightened up, waiting for direction. I’ve never been taught how to dance before… this is going to be interesting. He’s not going to touch my naughty places, is he? Like at the tailor, to get a suit, where he touches the boy bits, and… no wait, that was Friends.

“There’s going to be… a small change in plans,” Spike finally said, after an excruciating minute of silence. Xander frowned, looking at Spike’s almost guilty expression.

“What do you mean, a change in plans?” Xander tried to fight back the panic clawing for its freedom deep inside the pit he’d forced it into before leaving his apartment. Thoughts of forced prostitution or just being told to get the hell out danced in his head. Oddly the forced prostitution thoughts, while still laced with blind panic, made little-Xan twitch. Ugh… I’m a perverted little loser, aren’t I? Xander thought in self disgust.

“Nothing bad Xan, just the owner can only get in tonight before he goes off on a vacation with his husband for three weeks.” Spike spoke calmingly, but noticed it didn’t do any good quelling the panic of his old nemesis.

“TONIGHT??? I have to be ready for TONIGHT? Are you serious? You’re joking, right? Because I will NOT be ready in a couple of hours! This is not gonna work out, thanks for all your help, but I think I’m just going to go home and try to sell my body to science. They still do that, right?”

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