Rough Diamond

by
BmblBee

Part Twenty-Six

Breakfast was pleasant and surprisingly good. Although Spike ate only scrambled egg whites and dry toast, he did concede that Xander had the right to eat what he was accustomed to as well. With that in mind, he fried up a huge skillet of potatoes and eggs while an old fashioned stove percolator brewed a steaming pot of coffee.

He even, grudgingly, made enough for that vile beast, Rocky, although he would die a bloody death at the creature's claws and fangs before admitting it.

Xander had spent the time in the small living room. He neatly stacked up the morning's firewood before satisfying his curiosity by snooping through every drawer and cubbyhole in the main room of the cabin. Much to his delight, he found a small portable radio, a deck of cards, and a worn box that contained most of the pieces for a game of Monopoly. Things were looking up.

He also came across a note pad and a well chewed pencil which he used to start a short list to call in to Andrew. They would need batteries, beer and more wine. Lots of wine. As he wrote, Xander inhaled deeply.

The smells that filled the cabin drifted up through his nose and spread a homey warmth throughout his body. This whole thing had already been an amazing experience. Something he never thought he would have and he had to admit, quirky as he was, Spike was the perfect one to share it with.

Although the detective was unlike anyone he had ever met before, Xander was very attracted to him and couldn't understand why it was taking so long to get to the fucking. Still, as bizarre as he was, Spike was very companionable. The only one better would have been Joey.

When Xander thought of his lost friend, his eyes burned with unshed tears. Joey had been his everything before the drugs came between them. They were friends, lovers, brothers, working partners and more. Now Joey was gone and just when Xander thought he was all alone in the world, Spike shows up.

Xander wasn't a fool. He knew everything Spike had spouted in his little speech was true. This wasn't a vacation. They weren't friends. Yet, here they were and Xander had learned in his short life that the good times are few and far between. When you saw one come along, you had to grab it and squeeze every drop of gold from it that you could.

This little excursion into the great unknown was one of those moments and it was exactly what Xander needed right now. Its distraction helped him block out the vivid mental image of his best friend lying in a pool of blood in Xander's dreary, small apartment. Without realizing it, the blond detective had become Xander's anchor and salvation.

He just hoped the uptight cop cracked soon. Two days was the longest Xander had gone without sex since his virginity was bartered to the school principal in exchange for a dismissing a week's detention at the age of fifteen. Seduction was amusing, but Xander needed to fuck.

When breakfast was over and both men full, they sat back in comfortable silence over a second cup of coffee. Xander had piled the table scraps into a tin pie pan and was thinking about getting up and taking it out to his pet when he noticed Spike squirming and frowning.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Spike rubbed his bulging, hard belly and screwed his face up distastefully. "I'm afraid I need to evacuate. I have a very regular constitution and this time of the morning I.........well, you get the picture."

No, Xander didn't. "What the fuck are you?.......Oh, you need to shit? So go. What's the big deal?"

Spike gagged as the thought rose, along with the bile, from his stomach. Xander got the picture and he roared with laughter.

"It's the shitter isn't it? You're afraid to use the privy. Well, where the fuck have you been pissing? Don't tell me you haven't peed since we got here."

Spike straightened up in his chair. This entire conversation was intrusive, improper and embarrassing. "Of course I have urinated. I just chose to relieve myself in a less confining space."

Xander nodded.

"O.k, so you pissed on a tree. That's cool. Quick squirt and a shake, no problem, but you know you gotta sit down to shit. You can't do that standing up. Nope, you are gonna have to hold your nose and do the deed. Tell you what, why don't you just mosey on out there and drop the log while I sit here and finish my coffee. Then we can decide what to do with our day. Oh, and by the way, you'll need to grab a page or two of newspaper off the porch."

Spike's eyes bugged in horror and he wondered, for a minute, if he could ignore the urge and he prayed it would go away. Another wave of wrenching colon twisting cramps told him 'no'. This was going to have to be dealt with. Soon.

Xander smiled innocently and as Spike rose, the boy acted, for all the world, as if his only concern was the fascinating cup of coffee that sat in front of him. He never looked up or acknowledged the detective as he left the cabin, however, as soon as the door swung shut, Xander leapt from his chair and rushed to the window to enjoy the show.

He watched the poor man drag himself across the clearing toward the small outhouse with the quarter moon carved in the door. He chuckled as Spike paused out front, reached in his pocket and pulled out a package Tucking the newspaper between his knees, he opened the pouch, extracted the rubber gloves and he snapped them in place.

Xander gripped the edge of the sink firmly and he leaned forward, a look of anticipation and glee covered his face as he watched Spike reach for the wood and rope handle with the tips of two fingers.

Xander rocked back and forth on his heels as he muttered to himself. "Cooome on. You can do it. You know you got to. Step in, Spike"

Just as he was about to think the detective didn't have it in him. Xander watched as the phobic blond lurched inside, the door swung shut and he disappeared. Xander punched the air and whooped. He had mentally put a five spot on the count of ten and he began.....

"One, two, three......."

Before he could reach four, the door burst back open and Spike exploded out. His hands covered his nose and mouth and even at this distance, Xander could see the tears that flowed from the man's red, puffy eyes. Xander laughed so hard his tears matched Spike's and he had to sit back down as the other man disappeared into the woods.

Yeah, he thought, life doesn't get more golden that this.

Part Twenty-Seven

Spike sat sadly and wondered what he could have possible done in his short twenty-eight years that could have caused him to deserve this hell on earth. He shifted uncomfortably and looked all around at the tall weeds, wild flowers, and trees that blocked the sunlight and shrouded the area in a canopy of green.

Listening to the constant chirp of the tree frogs the numerous tweets, whistles and caws of what must have been thousands of birds, Spike looked down at the jeans and boxers that were tangled tightly around his ankles. He, of course, still wore the protective rubber gloves.

If anyone would have told him, even a week ago, that he would be sitting out here, in the woods, with his bare ass hanging over the rough, bark covered edge of a fallen tree as he shit like the proverbial bear, he would have laughed out loud. Today, he was not laughing.

He had tried to use the privy. He had nearly convinced himself that it was a possibility. He knew, within seconds, that there was no way he could remain for another instant in that germ and disease infested building with the wooden hole in the seat and God knows what, down in the pit beneath.

So here he sat. Suffering the degradation as well as the physical consequences of the mistake that was last night's pizza. Each time he would think he was finished and ready for the newspaper, his gut would twist and another stream of watery, foul smelling poop soup would hit the ground.

Gradually, the volume of liquid faeces seemed to lessen and the cramping stopped. With a sigh, Spike balled up a handful of paper and now wanted nothing more than to finish and rush back to the cabin to wash.

So, with the paper in one hand and his weight balanced on the other, he leaned reluctantly forward. Then, before he could wipe up, he heard a strange and disturbingly close sound. It was a rustling, a movement in the thick underbrush and it seemed to be heading his way. Spike froze as his ears tried to identify the noise.

During his time of painful rectal evacuation, Spike had heard a myriad of woodland creatures. He had seen birds fly in and away, he had watched a small rabbit hop nearby, and upon catching a whiff of the stench, scurry in the other direction, but this sound was different. This was louder and firmer, indicating a creature of some size and weight. His detective's powers of deduction drew a picture of a lion or tiger or bear. Oh my.

Fumbling, Spike attempted to hurry and wipe the newspaper over his sore ass hole as he swore under his breath. Suddenly, in a swift, heart stopping move, the creature propelled itself from it's crouched hiding place. Just as Spike lifted himself from his spot on the fallen log, the demon monster leapt and landed squarely on the terrified detective's face, blinding him and filling his mouth and nose with the odor of wild fur.

With a horrified scream, Spike's instincts for self preservation and survival kicked in and he started swinging, slapping and trying to shove the animal off him before it had the chance to rip his throat out or claw his eyes.

The sudden weight on him, combined with the release of his hold on the tree stump caused the frightened man to tumble backward as his feet kicked frantically to try and dislodge the tangle of fabric that restricted his legs. Spike was certain he was about to die as the struggle for life and death continued.

Xander had spent the time alone puttering around. He decided to surprise Spike by cleaning up the breakfast clutter and put the finishing touches on a detailed list, along with a question about laundry services that he had prepared for his call to Andrew. He had promised himself not to tease Spike too ruthlessly about this little bathroom incident.

Still, he had to smile and chuckle when he thought about it.

With the dishes washed and neatly put away, Xander was in the process of a final wipe up when he heard it. The faint sound of a voice calling, shouting, indiscernible by word but crystal clear in emotion.

Immediately, Xander threw his wet rag down on the table and rushed out the back door, yelling as he went. "SPIKE! SPIKE!"

When he jumped, sailing over the two back porch steps, Xander landed with a thump on the ground and he ran toward the direction of the voice that he could now understand was calling his name.

Before he had gone twenty feet, Spike came crashing through the concealment of the tall grass and he stumbled into the clearing. He was naked from the waist down and his face and legs were covered with small scrapes and cuts. The remnants of a ripped rubber glove hung from his hands.

Xander ran to him and caught him in his arms as Spike's whole body trembled and shook. As he held him close, Xander could smell that the smaller man was coated in shit.

Xander was rattled. He couldn't imagine what had happened, but he was enormously relieved that whatever it was, Spike seemed to be physically all right. "Shh. Shh. Spike. You're o.k. You're all right. Come on, come in the cabin."

"No!"

Suddenly, Spike shoved Xander back and he jerked at his shirt. Frantically, trying to get the filth and contamination off himself, Spike popped the buttons as his cut, bloody hands pulled and strained at the fabric.

When Xander realized what was happening, he grabbed Spike's wrists to stop him. "Stop it, Spike. Let me. Let me help you."

Spike shook violently. Unable to answer, he nodded as the tears ran down his face. Xander tried not to do the same and he knew he would never tease Spike about his germ phobia again. When the detective was naked, he stood, looking very small and weak and Xander's heart went out to him.

Gently, Xander led him to stand on the back porch. "Look, you just wait here for a minute. I'm going to get a hot pan of water and some soap and I'll come out and wash you."

The look of gratitude in the red rimmed blue eyes twisted in Xander's heart. With his palm on Spike's cheek, Xander lightly kissed his lips before he rushed off. Spike wrapped his arms around himself and he waited.<

Part Twenty-Eight

Spike stood shivering. His brain was screaming at him so loudly that he couldn't see or hear anything outside himself. All he knew was that
Xander had told him to wait. Xander would get this filth and contamination off him before it soaked through his skin and ate away at the very organs that kept his body alive and breathing.

Within minutes, Xander rushed back out. He had a steaming pan of water in his hands and a rolled towel under his arm. When he unfolded it, he set out the soap and a wash cloth. The minor point that this was not his oatmeal soap skittered through his mind and immediately floated away.

With his hands on Spike's waist, Xander turned the pliant man around, indicating that he should hold onto the back railing and bend over. Spike silently complied. The smeared, drying shit was caked and crusted from the center of his back, across his buttocks and down his legs. Xander could only wonder what the hell had happened.

But, he decided, the facts of the story would wait for later. For now, Xander would do what he could to relieve Spike's suffering and the instant the hot, cleansing wash touched his back, Spike felt the tension start to ease and his mental comprehension and awareness seep back in.

When the totality of the situation returned, he hung his head in shame as the tears rolled down his face. Xander paused, then deciding diversion was the path that would allow the man to retain some small fragment of pride, Xander started to talk, keeping his voice light and cheerful. "Hey, guess what? I found a deck of cards and a Monopoly game. Maybe this evening we can play some poker, although it is a bit hard with just two. Oh, and there's a radio!"

Spike knew what the boy was doing and he blessed him for it. Trying to keep his voice stable and steady, he allowed himself to be turned, bent and twisted as the gentle, thorough and compassionate bathing continued. "A radio? Yeah, that's good. Some music would be nice. Does, does it have batteries?"

"Nah, but I thought we might give your boy, Andrew a call later and see if he wouldn't run some out."

With that established, the conversation lulled, but neither of them minded. It had served it's purpose and both men felt their balance return. Spike snorted. It was his job to protect his witness, yet the whole time they had been here, Xander has been the one taking care of him.

Silently, Spike studied the boy, from his focused, concentrated face, down to the capable hands that worked him so efficiently. "How come you do so well out here, Xander? Have you been camping before?"

Xander smiled and continued to clean the scrapes and cuts on the thin, white legs. "Nope, never been. I just know how to be adaptable. Growing up, there was plenty of times we had our power shut off or didn't have enough to eat. I learned early on that you have to be able to survive with what you have on hand. After I got out on my own, I decided to live my way and not count on anyone else to take care of me. I do all right."

Spike choked back a new round of tears at the thought of what Xander considered 'doing all right'.

Finally, when he was as clean as he was going to get and the water was as dirty, Xander dumped the pan over the edge of the porch and set it on the floor. He then quickly unbuttoned his own shirt, removed it and tenderly slipped it on Spike who sighed as the incredible warmth soaked into him.

"Come on, Spike. Let's go in. You need to get dressed and warmed by the fire before you catch cold. Then we can call down to the village and your little boy toy can bring us some supplies."

When they got inside, Spike went straight to the bedroom to dress and Xander returned to the kitchen. He had set aside the pan of table scraps for Rocky and was anxious to feed him. When he stepped into the clearing, Xander shook the pan of food, causing it to rattle, all the time making clicking sounds with his tongue.

The raccoon was nowhere to be found. Xander walked closer to the tree line and repeated the action, punctuating it with a couple "Here Rocky's" He was all but ready to give up, he noticed two beady eyes and a pointy nose poke tenuously out from a cluster of wild flowers.

Xander's face broke into a grin and he eased closer, his hand and the food pan extended before him. "Hey, there you are. What's the matter? Come on. You know me. Come on, Rocky. Xander's got food and you know you want it."

Rocky was hesitant. The food smelled delicious but after the traumatizing experience he had just had, he wondered if all humans were that psychotic. The one in the woods that he had just tried to be friends with had damn near scared him to death. In fact he had just been on his way to the creek for a quick bath when the smell of food had tempted him.

Slowly, cautiously, Rocky placed one foot in front of the other and moved closer to the food. When he saw that everything appeared copasetic, he snatched up a piece of apple, clicked and chatted his story of outrageous treatment, and then shoved it in his mouth.

Xander laughed at the creatures odd antics. Whatever had caused his apprehension had........then something broke Xander's thought. He sniffed. He looked.

"Oh, fuck!"

Rocky's lovely soft fur was now covered in a brown, crusty, dry layer of very familiar smelling stench. In fact, Rocky's back and Spike's were almost identical.

Xander didn't need to be a detective to ascertain what had occurred. He could easily ferret out the facts and it all added up to.....

"Rocky. What the fuck have you done?"

He set down the pan and moved away. As Rocky dove in, Xander slowly stepped back and straightened up. He stared at the feeding Rocky and despite his best efforts to squelch them, a series of comic, Keystone Cop pictures flashed through his brain.

Now, Xander was not a religious man and truth was, he seldom thought about a force greater than himself. But this was one of those times he did. With both hands clamped firmly over his mouth, Xander prayed fervently.

Please, God, don't let me laugh!

Part Twenty-Nine

The rest of the day went surprisingly well. Much to his relief, Xander realized that Spike had not recognized his demon attacker as the one and only Rocky Raccoon. Something Xander was extremely grateful for as he had gotten quite attached to the critter in the short time they had shared his small area of wilderness.

As the day warmed up, the two emerged from the cabin. Xander smiled and lifted his face upward feeling a sun that was warm and high in the sky. It wrapped them in light and heat as it burnt off the early morning fog that still clung to the tops of the surrounding mountains.

It was so amazingly different than anything either of the city men were accustomed to and it hadn't taken a great deal of cajoling to coax Spike off the porch for an exploratory walk. So, together, sometimes holding hands, they enjoyed the great out doors, as much as Spike was able.

Avoiding the area of lair of the beast, they were careful to remain on the narrow worn path till they reached a cool, babbling brook. Spike stood back while Xander dipped his hands in and let the icy cold water rush between his fingers. He looked up from his squatting position to smile, his eyes squinting against the blinding illumination.

Spike smiled back. The glory of the incredible nature around them paled in comparison to the face of the man at his feet. Now, Spike was no idiot. He was constantly aware of their positions. He knew why they were here and that when this was all over, they would each return to their own set of circumstances and lives. He would return to the solitary, sterile life he had carefully woven and his stringent job in law enforcement.

And Xander would revert to his selected field of prostitution. He would spend his nights in the arms and bodies of strange men with whom he shared nothing more than a predetermined amount of cash and a chosen sex act.

The more Spike thought about it, the more his stomach threaten him with revolt. He knew, despite the fact that he did not work vice, he would spend his nights cruising the dark streets and alleys doing his best to thwart Xander's gainful occupation.

But all that was for later concern and consideration. They were here now and they were together. Spike felt at peace. As they worked their way back to the cabin, Spike squeaked when Xander interlocked his freezing cold fingers with Spike's warm ones. Together they laughed and Spike forgot about the germs that must have just transmitted themselves.

By evening, they had easily stepped into their established pattern. Spike went to the kitchen to fix them dinner and Xander carried in enough firewood to set them up for the night. For Xander, the physical exertion of hauling the wood helped only slightly as his body's demand for sex became driving and overwhelming.

Xander needed to bust loose. As much as he was enjoying this little cabin in the woods, Xander craved people. He wanted the crazy stimulation of a bar with booze, dancing and other horny, sweaty bodies.

Sticking his head in the kitchen, Xander assured himself that Spike was occupied with the skinless chicken he was broiling before he snatched up the phone, quickly dialed and then impatiently waited. When the familiar voice answered, Xander was thrilled.

"Hey, Andrew, yeah it's me.......what? Yes, Andrew, he's still here and he's fine. Say, Andrew, I was wondering........what? No he didn't say anything about how cute you are. Look, If I was to come down to.....what's the name of your town? Walnut Creek? Seriously? O.k, anyway, how would I get there from here and are there any bars in that town? Yeah? Great.......uh, huh. Got it. Thanks, Andrew and don't worry, I'll tell him you think he's hot. Bye."

Xander set the phone down just as Spike came in.

"Dinner."

Xander face nearly split with the grin. "Great! I'm hungry enough to eat a horse."

When the meal was done and the sun was dipping low in the sky, the two men settled in by the warmth and gold light of the fire. They sat side by side on the old, worn sofa and shared the last bottle of vino that Andrew had schlepped up the hill yesterday.

Xander had been on pins and needles all evening waiting for the right time to broach the subject and now seemed to be it. "This is nice, isn't it Spike?"

Spike smiled a slow, easy smile and took another sip of wine. His feet were stretched out in front of him and he was acutely aware of the heat that radiated from the body of the man beside him. It was becoming more and more difficult to convince his dick that Xander's cock was not here for a jammy party.

"Yeah, it's quiet. Peaceful. Seems odd not to hear any traffic noise outside."

Xander's twitched. It was the perfect segue and he took full advantage of it. "Yeah, it does seem strange. It's nice, but I miss the noise and racket of other people too."

Spike frowned at Xander's apparent misunderstanding.

"No, I didn't mean....."

"Hey, I know, why don't we sneak in to town, have a quick beer, shoot a fast game of pool and be back here before anyone even notices us."

"WHAT? NO!!"

Xander chuckled.

"Oh, I don't mean tonight, silly. Tomorrow night. After sunset. I asked Andrew and he gave me directions. He said there's a bar there called Crackers where we can drink and dance and shoot some eight ball. Fuck, it's gonna be great!"

Spike felt the panic of loosing control strangle him like a noose around his neck. His eyes bugged and he sat bolt upright. "NO no no no no!!!!! We have direct orders not to leave here until we receive the official call, which, by the way must include the secret code word 'vampire' telling us that all is clear, the perps in custody and your position secure."

Xander just chuckled. If there was anything Xander knew, it was men and how to get what he wanted from them. Spike was a man and it was clearly time to reach into his bag of tricks and pull out his patented world famous Xander Harris blow job.

"O.k, Spike. It was just a suggestion. Sorry I mentioned it. Well, I don't know about you, but I'm whipped. Come on, Detective Bradshaw, let's go to bed."

Relief washed through Spike and he relaxed. He hated to disillusion the boy and shoot down his plan, but sometimes you just have to take a stand and, after all, Spike was the one in charge here. So, with a benevolent smile, he accepted Xander's extended hand and together they went to bed.

Part Thirty

Spike stood in the doorway and watched warily as Xander casually dropped his clothes on the floor and hopped into bed. Stark naked. Spike considered protesting and pointing out the unhygienicness of such a condition, but reconsidered. After all, Xander had the right to sleep in the manor to which he was most accustomed, just as Spike did.

Once settled in, Xander watched in amusement as Spike carefully removed his shirt. He neatly folded it and placed it on top of the dresser then followed with the jeans. When he was down to his white boxers, Spike eased cautiously forward. He knew what he was doing was foolish, irresponsible and possibly reckless, but he rationalized his choice by saying there was no other way to properly stay near and protect his charge. It was a mental excuse that he recognized as pure bull shit, but he didn't care.

Spike stood at the side of the bed and scowled. He knew if he measured, it could be proven that Xander was encroaching on his side. He frowned and made shooing motions with his hands while his face and voice remained stern. "Move over. Further. All the way. We don't want any property line disputes here. You have your side of the bed and I have mine. As long as we respect each other's assigned space there should be no problems."

Xander smiled, blinking innocently and he scooted as far over as he could, seemingly ashamed at his accidental faux pas. Spike nodded, satisfied, and slowly lowered himself into the shared bed. He laid flat on his back, his legs stretched straight down with his ankles clamped tightly together in a very virginal, modest manner. His small, compact body was perched on the very edge of the bed and he sighed as he reached for the corner of the flap of blanket.

Xander laid on his side, his head propped on his hand and he watched with great amusement. Once the prim and proper detective was settled in, Xander pounced. He threw an arm around the other man's waist and he scooped him up flipping him toward the center of the bed where he then leapt on top, straddling him.

"ACK! What the fuck are you doing!?!"

Xander chuckled. "I'm seducing you. Now, obviously, if you have to ask, I'm apparently not doing it right. How about if I try again and we see if I don't do better."

Spike wanted to protest. Vigorously. Unfortunately, his senses were being bombarded and overwhelmed. The warmth of Xander's body, looming over top of him, the feel of the boy's hands touching rubbing and moving across every inch of his skin, the smell of his clean hair as it tumbled down over his strong, broad shoulders, all combined, it was making clear, rational thought impossible.

"Xander, I don't....you ... we shouldn't."

Xander silenced the smaller man by pressing his lips lightly against his. "Shhh. Why shouldn't we? We both want to. Fuck, Spike, I love to touch you. Your body feels so good. Please, just let me touch you. We won't do any more than you want to."

Not waiting for verbalized permission, Xander's larger, rough hand slowly slid down Spike's chest. His fingernail scraped over the hard, pebbly nipple and Spike gasped at the zing that shot from his tender nub to his crotch. It was something he would have liked to explore further but Xander had already moved on.

"Xander." Spike's voice was whispery and breathless.

Leaning down, Xander kissed each area of skin his hand moved past. Neck, chest, pausing to bite and suck on first one nipple then the other. Spike whined and squirmed beneath him. A tiny voice in the back of his head said this type of thing was probably fraught with germs. His dick screamed at him to shut the fuck up.

Edging further, Xander rubbed his face back and forth over Spike's flat stomach. He could feel the muscles as they quivered and spasmed under his face. His own cock was ready to explode. He dipped his tongue in Spike's belly button and Spike jumped with a grunt. His hand wanted to grip his hard cock and strip it to release but he knew this was better.

Xander, too was amazed at how turned on he was. This wasn't like a client, a nameless, faceless john that wanted to get off fast and get away. This was Spike. A man he felt a real connection to and the knowledge sent a surge of heated passion through him that had his hard, throbbing cock leaking and twitching.

Xander sniffed Spike's crotch as the head of the blond's dick bumped Xander's chin like a sunflower seeking the sky. Perched on his knees, with his ass tipped high in the air, Xander couldn't think of anything past tasting that thick, delicious tube of throbbing meat that protruded from between Spike's shaky legs.

Spike's heart was slamming in his chest. Every inch of his skin crawled with anticipation and he dug his fingers into the thick, soft hair of the head that hung directly over his groin. His hips jerked up trying to encourage Xander down. The last time a man tried to put their lips on his cock, Spike had nearly thrown up. Now, he couldn't stand the wait.

"Please, Xander. Yes, please."

Xander opened his mouth and he swallowed as much cock as he could, relaxing his throat and allowing the head to bump his tonsils. Spike's eyes bugged wide and his ass raised off the bed. He gripped Xander's ears as the wet heat surrounded him and his ears buzzed with static. It was the most incredible feeling he had ever known. Till Xander began to suck.

"JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"

If Xander had been able to talk, he would have agreed. Instead, he reached between his own spread legs and jacked himself. With his thumb on the top and his fist circling the girth, Xander pointed his cock down and stripped it in perfect rhythm to the slurps and suction of his mouth. Spike responded with a steady stream of moans, groans and curse words that he had never in his life used in a full sentence.

Xander's cock dripped a steady stream of precum onto a puddle on the sheet till the pressure in his nuts reached a boiling point. When he could hold back no longer, Xander stabbed his tongue in Spike's slit and sucked the head, eating the leaking cum. It sent them both spiraling towards an earth shaking mutual orgasm.

"Ugh!" Spike threw his head back. His mouth gaped open as he felt the tingle rush through him. It burned in every muscle of his arms, back, legs and shot almost painfully out his cock in pulsing spurts of an amazing release that, after several long seconds, left him limp and flopping like a rag doll.

Xander grinned and rested his face on the inside of Spike's thigh. He was too tired to crawl back up to his assigned area and he didn't think Spike would mind. The detective didn't. He petted the soft hair like a cat as his brain cleared and his heart swelled.

Spike was no fool. He knew he had allowed the worst thing in the world to happen. Spike had fallen for a prostitute. It was unthinkable but true. He wasn't stupid. He realized for Xander, this was just another encounter, but for him, it was so much more. Spike had never felt this way about another man and he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.