Asleep On The Job
Xander woke slowly to a feathery caress over the curve of
his ass, and down into the hollow of his hip. Back and forth, mesmerizing.
Like a finger following lines of newsprint for a reader.
Xander hummed into the pillow, snuggling down, then frowned when the pillow crackled.
"Awake now, pet? Did you know that Boots is going to be carrying sex toys in the coming year? There's one just down the road from our door. Bloody convenient, wouldn't you say?"
Xander peeled open his eye to find himself with a face full of a George W Bush photo. "Gah! What-?"
"Fell asleep on the newspaper last night, ducks. You looked too comfortable to wake up and move."
"And so you... are..." Xander twisted around like a fish to look at Spike in disbelief as the vampire kept one fingertip pressed against his right buttock. "You're reading the article off my ass?!"
"Well it's there!" Spike pointed. "Right there, clear as day. Must've been lying on it for a while cos I can't find the original, so it's bloody good luck you've got it tattooed here."
Xander groaned and flopped onto his back, looking with disbelief at the section of newspaper that came with him, stuck to his belly with last night's come like a twisted paper mache project gone very very wrong. "I feel disgusting."
"Could be worse, pet. Oh. Ta." Spike scooted forward, bending over Xander to read the paper stuck to him. "There's the original."
Xander lifted his head, staring at the surreality of Spike with bedhead, glasses, and news print smudges like war paint reading an article about sex toys from the drug store off of a piece of newspaper that was stuck to Xander's stomach with-
Xander groaned, scrubbing at his face. "I feel very disgusting. I need a bath."
"It's not that bad, pet. Look a bit like you've been rolling in ink, but," Spike paused to smirk, and look Xander up and down, "you have."
"Yes, and you have too. And at least I don't have Family Circus imprinted on my ass."
"What?!" Spike whipped around, staring down at himself trying to see, then turned back, eyes narrowed. "You're joking."
Xander yanked off the page of paper stuck to him, wincing when a few hairs came with it, and dragged Spike across his lap, pointing. "Hate to break it to you Blondie, but I'm not. You've got a lovely imprint of little Billy trick or treating as the grim reaper right here," Xander said, bringing his hand down on it with a smack that made Spike gasp.
"Don't- don't you think that's a little kinky, pet? Spanking the Family Circus child?"
Xander grinned. "I have newspaper stuck to my stomach with hours old come, Spike," Xander said, bringing his hand down again, and once more for emphasis of the words. "I passed kinky several exits back and am well on my way to filthy."
He held Spike down firmly with one hand, and continued determinedly. "I have reached whole new levels of depraved and my newspaper reading is hovering dangerously on the brink of fetishism," Xander continued, bringing his hand down steadily and ending with a crescendo to punctuate each word: "all because of you!" Xander shook his stinging hand, grinning and listening to Spike trying not to be obvious about panting.
"How's that then?" Spike finally asked, his voice strained away to nothing as he tried not to be too obvious about his squirming in Xander's lap.
"Did you hear a word I said?" Xander suppressed his laughter, rubbing at Spike's flesh until little Billy was no more than a smear of gray on white.
"Kinky, filthy, depraved newspaper fetishist," Spike answered immediately, and dropped his head to the mattress with a groan. "And god, I like it."
"Not gonna finish what you were doing first?"
"Oh, I'm gonna finish." Xander slid his hand back to Spike's ass, rubbing over skin that should have been pink, but wasn't, and dug his fingers in until Spike arched and hissed. "But since I'm now a kinky, filthy, depraved newspaper fetishist, I thought I'd add to the idea and do the whole nine yards from start to finish."
"Getting clean to get all dirty again, eh pet?"
"Got it in one."
Spike slithered off Xander's lap, taking him by the shoulders and yanking him up, growling against his lips. "Knew I'd rub off on you eventually."
"Well and often," Xander confirmed. "And you're welcome to rub off on me all you want." He scrubbed at his cheek, looking down at the headline page that had been his pillow. "Campaigning presidential candidates however, are not. Ergo, bath."
Chuckling, Spike dragged his tongue from Xander's jaw to his cheekbone, then made a face at the taste of ink. "Right. Made your point then. I'll run the bath."