Written for Music of Pain - A Xander Ficathon using the song Jose Cuervo.

Title: The Trouble With Tequila
Author: Spikedluv
Fandom: BtVS
Rating: R/Slash
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Length: 2372 words
Spoilers: Nothing specific; through season 4 to be safe.
Summary: Xander ‘had too much tequila last night’
Notes: Written for Music of Pain - A Xander Ficathon using the song Jose Cuervo.
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.
Thanks: Wow, I’m so used to getting my story done just in time to post and having to wait on the beta, so I’m really excited that I not only got one beta to look it over, but three! Mucho thanks to [info]kyrieane, [info]truly_tazi and [info]velvetwhip for the beta. I really appreciate you gals looking this over for me. It’s a better story for the changes you suggested. *hugs*
Written: July 9, 2005

The Trouble With Tequila


Jose Cuervo
Sung by: Shelly West

Well it's Sunday mornin'
And the sun in shinin'
In my eye that is open
And my head is spinnin'
Was the life of the party
I can't stop grinnin'
I had too much tequila last night

Jose Cuervo you are a friend of mine
I like to drink you with a little salt and lime
Did I kiss all the cowboys?
Did I shoot out the lights?
Did I dance on the bar?
Did I start any fights?

Now wait a minute
Things don't look too familiar
Who is this cowboy
Who's sleepin' beside me?
He's awful cute, but how'd I
Get his shirt on?
I had too much tequila last night

Jose Cuervo you are a friend of mine
I like to drink you with a little salt and lime
Did I kiss all the cowboys?
Did I shoot out the lights?
Did I dance on the bar?
Did I start any fights?

All those little shooters
How I love to drink 'em down
Come on bartender
Let's have another round

Well the music is playing
And my spirits are high
Tomorrow might be painful
But tonight we're gonna fly

Jose Cuervo you are a friend of mine
I like to drink you with a little salt and lime
Every time we get together
I sure have a good time
You're my friend
You're the best
Mi amigo (tequila)

Jose Cuervo you are a friend of mine
I like to drink you with a little salt and lime
Did I kiss all the cowboys?
Did I shoot out the lights?
Did I dance on the bar?
Did I start any fights?

Jose Cuervo you are a friend of mine.

Xander slowly returned to consciousness, and then wished he had stayed under. His head felt as if there was a jackhammer drilling inside his skull and his furry tongue tasted like something had crawled into his mouth during the night and died there. It took him a few minutes to work up the courage to open one eye, and then he immediately slammed it back shut again.

Xander groaned. Oh, yeah, that hurt. The curtains were drawn, but enough light was filtering into the room to send a stabbing pain behind his eyes.

A few minutes later Xander’s insistent bladder gave him no choice. He opened his eyes a sliver at a time to acclimate them to the light and moved ve-e-ery slowly to roll over so he could get out of bed without aggravating the pounding in his head, and then froze.

It took a full minute of staring around him before Xander could wrap his fuzzy brain around the fact that this was not his bedroom. That was not his scarred dresser with the black light sitting on top of it, nor his overflowing closet with the poster of ‘The Clash’ on the door. Cautiously he looked down his body. And the blood red silk sheets currently covering him were definitely not his.

He slowly inched his head over on the pillow until he saw the body sprawled in the bed beside him. The sheets had gathered down around his waist and Xander’s eyes slid up a long, sleek back to soft blond curls at the nape, to bed head that disappeared beneath the pillow. Neither the hair nor the pillowcase hid the angry red hickey on his bed partner’s neck.

Oh, god, what had he done? Xander groaned silently. He tried to recall the details of the night before, but his good friend, Jose Cuervo, was interfering with his memory. He knew that he’d gone to Artie’s with the guys on his crew to celebrate his promotion at work. Unfortunately, that had included several shots of tequila. That he could remember.

His stomach roiled at a snatch of memory in which a familiar voice encouraged him to swallow the worm that floated at the bottom of the bottle. Oh god, please, Xander thought, rubbing his stomach and trying not to gag, tell me I didn’t.

Xander closed his eyes and tried to relax and just let his mind drift as he attempted to remember what in hell had happened between the time he got to the bar and the time he left. Not alone, it seemed. Okay, okay, I just need to remain calm, he told himself. Calm and relaxed. “I am calm,” he whispered. “I am relaxed.”

“‘M tryin’ to sleep here, ya prat,” Xander’s bed mate grumbled as he shifted around in the bed.

“Sorry,” Xander whispered, and then froze. No. Nononono! It couldn’t be. He opened his eyes and turned his head to the side again. A tousled mess of bleached blond hair greeted him, and the headache that had lessened slightly suddenly got much worse. Xander wanted to run screaming, but blue eyes had opened and pinned him in place.

“Quit thinkin’ so loud, you’re givin’ me a headache,” Spike said, and then closed his eyes again, which seemed to free Xander’s tongue.

“Spike!” he yelped, and then closed his eyes as a kaleidoscope of images flashed through his mind.


When Xander stepped out of the foreman’s trailer, all the men on his crew were standing around talking. As soon as they caught sight of him, they fell silent and waited expectantly.


“Well, did ya get it or not?” Cal demanded.

“Come on, Harris, don’t keep us in suspense,” Gray called out, while the others muttered their agreement.

Xander grinned. “I got it.” He threw his arms out dramatically. “You are now looking at the new Assistant Foreman.” Xander was thrilled with the promotion. It was the best thing that had happened to him since falling into a funk after Anya left him three months ago. He was soon surrounded by men heartily clapping him on the back, shaking his hand and offering him manly congratulations.

“You know what that means!” Dave caroled.

“Artie’s!” the rest of the crew sang out, and Xander let himself be carried along on a wave of goodwill for a celebratory drink.

One celebratory drink turned into two, and then Joe bought a round of tequila shots. They claimed one of the pool tables and held it all night. By the time the bar really started hopping, Xander and his crew were feeling no pain. Stan and Cal left early to get home to their families while Gray and Joe made passes at anything in a skirt. Dave had called his wife, Maggie, and she stopped by when she got off work.

After trouncing him in a game of pool, Maggie took pity on Xander and led him out for a spin on the dance floor. Once she got him out there, she wouldn’t let him leave. After three fast dances a slow dance came on and Xander breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he was off the hook. Instead, Maggie grabbed his hand and tugged him close.

Halfway through the dance, Dave appeared. “Should I be jealous?” he asked.

“No!” Xander exclaimed, quickly dropping Maggie’s hand and throwing his arms around Dave. “You know you’re the only one for me, snuggle buns,” he simpered.

They all laughed as Xander pulled back, his hand still on Dave’s shoulder. “Please, take your wife,” he pleaded. “She’s going to be the death of me.”

Xander watched Dave whirl Maggie into the crowd until a voice over his shoulder made him turn.

“That your boyfriend, Harris?”

Xander was surprised to see Spike in a bar that catered to the working class, but he was too loose from the alcohol to take much offense at Spike’s statement. Luckily, he was a mellow drunk, unlike his father. Unfortunately, his inhibitions had fallen by the wayside of tequila consumption.

“Why?” he asked, leaning close to Spike. “Jealous?”

Spike snorted and rolled his eyes. “Not bloody likely.”

“Hmmm, then why the interest?” Xander teased, bumping Spike’s hip with his own before walking off the dance floor and heading for the bar.

“I’m not interested, you git!” Spike yelled after him.

Xander just waved his hand in a ‘whatever’ gesture as he wove his way through the crowd. Thirty seconds after he’d bellied up to the bar, Spike squeezed in beside him.

“So, what’re you doing here?” he asked.


“Celebrating what? Finally figure out the demon bint leaving wasn’t anything to get all worked up over?”

Thankfully the pain of Anya’s leaving had diminished, or Xander might have gone with his first impulse, which was to see if he could choke Spike to death, but it seemed time and tequila had a calming effect on him, so he just said, “No. I got a promotion.”

Spike raised an eyebrow.

“Assistant foreman,” Xander filled in.

“Thrilling, I’m sure. So, what’re you drinking?”

Xander shook his head at Spike’s disinterest and opened his mouth to answer when the bartender set a bottle of tequila down in front of him. He laughed. “Well, yeah, but I don’t think....”

“Two,” Spike ordered, holding up two fingers and then tossing a wad of cash on the bar.

Xander was so gobsmacked by the fact that Spike was buying him a drink that he couldn’t get his mouth to form the denial his brain was screaming. By the time he could speak again, two full shot glasses, along with the requisite salt and slices of lime, had been placed before them.

Xander felt a not-totally-unexpected stirring in his groin as he watched Spike lick his thumb. He sprinkled the salt onto it and then slid the shaker over to him. Xander caught himself before he could be lured into staring at Spike’s throat as he swallowed the shot, and grabbed for the salt.

He shuddered and grimaced as the shot went down. “So,” he asked, after slamming the shot glass down onto the bar top, “what are you doing here? I never pictured this as your type of place.”

“Been picturing me, have you?” Spike asked with a smirk as he signaled the bartender for two more.

Things got a little hazy after that. He remembered licking salt off a pale wrist, and a cool tongue lapping at his own pulse point. There was dirty dancing that put the movie to shame. And...the worm. Which, if Xander remembered correctly, he’d named ‘Wiggles’ before Spike promised him a blow job if he swallowed it.

Holy shit! Holy shit!


“Could you freak out a little more quietly? ‘M knackered from last night.”

And how Spike could leer just with words, Xander wasn’t certain.

“Shut up, Spike.” Xander had been trying for a manly snarl, but his voice squeaked.

Had Spike given him a blow job last night and he couldn’t remember? he whined silently. Or, just his luck, had he passed out before...? But, no, there was a quite livid mark on Spike’s neck, so Xander must have been conscious at least long enough to leave that. Plus, they were both naked. He wiggled his butt. His ass didn’t ache. He lifted the sheet.

Spike sighed. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for evidence.”

Xander dropped the sheet back onto his clean belly and glanced over at Spike, who was wearing his familiar smirk. He ran his eyes over Xander and licked his lips.

“I swallowed it.”

Xander’s heart leapt and his cock twitched. Spike’s eyes fixed on Xander’s stiffening dick, which made it harden all the more.

“Guess you’re done freaking out,” he drawled. “Or parts of you are, anyway.”

“He doesn’t always know what’s good for him,” Xander retorted archly, resisting the girly urge to place his hands over his crotch.

“Did last night,” Spike drawled, then rolled to his back, pulling the covers off Xander and revealing more of Spike than Xander thought he’d ever get the chance to see, and stretched. He couldn’t help staring at the sharp hipbones and enticing trail of hair the maneuver had revealed.

“Was it?” he asked, dry-mouthed.

Spike frowned in confusion.

“Was it good?” Xander clarified.

Spike’s face cleared. “The first time?” he asked, one eyebrow raising.

Smug was a very good look on Spike, though Xander would never tell him that. And then Spike’s meaning hit him.

“There was more than once?” he squeaked.

“The first time was quick and dirty at the bar,” Spike told him. “You couldn’t get enough of me. All over me.”

Xander smacked Spike’s arm. He could believe he’d take any opportunity to do Spike, but he couldn’t believe he’d actually hung all over him, as Spike was implying. “I was not.”

“Were too.”

“You got me drunk and took advantage of me!”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“I might’ve gotten you drunk, Harris, but you took advantage of me. Leanin’ into me, rubbin’ up against me on the dance floor. You were a man on a mission, single-minded about it, too. I didn’t stand a chance.”

Xander wanted to argue, but since he couldn’t remember what had actually happened, it was difficult to formulate an argument. While the behavior Spike described wasn’t his norm, Xander had been attracted—mildly—to Spike for so long, he wouldn’t be surprised if the tequila had lowered his inhibitions to the extent that he had put the moves on Spike. However....

Xander rolled onto his side and stared Spike down. “You’re a vampire. You could’ve fought me off.”


“You brought me home with you,” Xander countered.

“Hmm.” Spike thought for a moment, and then his countenance brightened. “You followed me. Forced your way in....”

“And made you blow me?”


Xander grinned at Spike’s weak argument. “So, was it good?”

“You don’t bloody remember, so it couldn’t have been that good.”

Was Spike...pouting?

“You could refresh my memory,” Xander offered, attempting a suggestive leer.

Spike glared at him. “Tequila, dancing, hand job, tequila, worm....”

“Oh god,” Xander groaned as his stomach churned.

“Yeah, poor Wiggles.”

“Uhhh, stop.”

“And then you climbed on the table and yelled out for all the bar to hear, ‘Spike, take me home and make me yours, or lose me forever!’,” Spike told him gravely.

Xander’s mouth gaped and he stared at Spike in horror. “I did what?”

Spike blinked innocently. Xander’s eyes narrowed.

“I did not!”

“Did too.”

“Did not!”

Spike grinned. “But you wanted to.”

“I did not!”

“Did too.”

“All right, listen. If I agree that I...might have...wanted to, would you please tell me what really happened last night?”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Fine. I carried you out of the bar, dragged your sorry ass here, got your clothes off, and then you passed out.”

“I did what?” Spike didn’t answer, just glared, as if passing out was Xander’s fault, when it had been Spike plying him with tequila. “But, you....” He pointed. “There’s a hickey on your neck.”

Spike automatically lifted his hand and felt for the hickey. “You did that on the dance floor.”

“I did?” Xander couldn’t help grinning, and Spike rolled his eyes again. The grin faded. “So we didn’t....” He gestured to their positions.


“Not even...at the bar?”

“I was a perfect gentleman,” Spike declared, and Xander snorted.

“Well, okay, good.”

“Good?” Spike snarled, pushing Xander onto his back and holding him down. Xander’s dick jumped. Christ, he was so easy. “You tellin’ me you’re glad we didn’t do the nasty?” Spike asked with a growl, gripping Xander through the sheet and stroking him.

Holy crap, Spike’s hand was on his cock. And there was silk!

“N-no. Jus-just....” Xander was having trouble thinking, much less speaking, because Spike’s hand was still moving. “I’m glad we didn’t do something I don’t remember. ‘Cause I want to. Remember, that is. Well, and do something. To remember.”

Spike rolled his eyes once more. Wow, three times in about as many minutes. Must be a record, Xander thought.

“Quit babbling, you moron,” Spike said, and then kissed him. Hard.

When Spike finally let him up for air, Xander breathed, “Yeah, okay.”

The End

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