Donut Boy 3
Xander squinted at his new wrist watch, his first that didn't come from a box
of cereal, Uncle Rory, or a fast food meal, and checked one more time against
the clock to be sure the settings were accurate. Then, he set his watch for
Then, satisfied, Xander leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, feeling
the dopey smile spread over his face. God, it wasn't even the strength he'd
liked so much as the grace, the knowledge that whatever he wanted to do, he could
do. Up to, and including picking Spike up and running half way across town with
him.
That'd been great.
What he hadn't expected, and what'd come as the best surprise of the
night was the discovery that his super speed and finesse meant the most
incredible masturbation of his young life. If that was what it felt like for
Spike, no wonder he couldn't seem to keep his hands out of his crotch.
Not that Xander was noticing Spike's-
Okay, Xander had noticed Spike's crotch a lot. Especially lately. It was hard
to miss the way the guy liked to sprawl out with his legs wide open and his
hands-
Xander shifted in his seat and pulled a heavier book into his lap, reminding
himself he was supposed to be research boy.
Not thinking about what it'd be like if Spike was slouched on the stairs right
then, hands in ready position and just did it. It wasn't like the Scoobs
paid any attention to him. Except Xander, and lately, the attention was
appreciation all the way.
Spike could stretch out on the stairs, maybe put a boot on a lower step to give
Xander the best view from the table. He wouldn't know Xander had been the one
to rescue him the night before, so maybe he'd just be trying to get a rise
(hah!) out of Xander, get back that old Spikey confidence even with a black eye
and split lip.
And what kind of guy was Xander that he thought the bruises just made
Spike look sexier?
So yeah, Spike would sprawl out on the steps, take a look across the shop like
he owned it, and then let his gaze settle on Xander. No, not settle, lock
on Xander. Pin him cause he'd know Xander was watching every move, then slowly,
slowly, go one button at a time, flicking them open, casual as a porn star, and
start to stroke. He wouldn't be slick or anything, so his skin would catch on
his hand, tug down hard on the foreskin, showing off the tip like a lollypop
with that you know you want it smirk at Xander.
Xander's mouth watered. He did want it. Badly.
Would it be pale, like the rest of him because vampires didn't have any
circulation, or would it be obscenely red, flushed with all that stolen blood?
Xander settled on red and closed his eyes, pushing down with the book in his
lap and taking a harsh breath in, hoping nobody would notice.
Who was he kidding? Nobody would notice until they needed him to get something
for them.
So probably nobody'd notice if things started happening between him and fantasy
Spike either.
"Come on, boy. I can smell those pheromones from here. You want
this?" Spike's hand slows, squeezes until a pearly drop bubbles
from the tip and slides down the side like sweet, sweet melting ice cream.
"Oh, god." Because there was no way Xander would have anything
glib to say to erect!Spike on the staircase. He was honest enough with himself
to admit that.
"Come on, Harris. Nobody'll see. Nobody'll know.
And Xander would stand like a man under hypnosis, kneel on the stairs, and -
what would Spike do? Nothing easy. He wouldn't make it simple, not some
fumbling blow from a guy who used to think he was straight. No. Spike'd want to
make a mark.
Spike slouches down, tangles his hand in the back of Xander's hair and yanks
his face forward until Xander's lips are pressed against his open belt buckle,
then paints a slick, wet stripe across Xander's cheek with the tip of his cock,
marking him. "Like that, do you?" And the other cheek. He can feel it
dripping down, wants so badly to taste. "Come on, boy. Suck me."
An axe slammed down on the table, making Xander jump, and scramble to keep the
Encyclopedia Demonica, or whatever the hell it is was safely in his lap.
"Xander, are you paying attention at all? What's with you
lately?"
"Um. I've just got a lot on my mind, Buff." *And in my lap*
"Like what? Another job at the Doublemeat Palace? This stuff is actually
important. And since Spike didn't bother to show up, now it's down to me,
Riley, and Willow to take out an entire nest of shellac demons-"
"Shrevlak," Giles corrected absently, turning a page in his book.
"Big nasty bitey things without vamp backup. Tonight."
"Uh. Okay, so where do I come in?"
Buffy pointed at the axe which was, at least, not dripping ichor onto the table
this time. "Weapons cleaning duty while Riley and I go scout out their
hidey hole before sunset."
Xander groaned. "Right."
"Look at the bright side, Xander. If we get them taken out before sunset,
there's Bronzey fun to be had after."
Xander thought about Bronzey fun that involved sipping a soda by his lonesome
while the couples did coupley things. Then, he thought about trying out his new
super suave, super secret, super Xand-man at the Bronze instead. Yeah, no
comparison. "You know, Wills...I'm pretty tired. I think I'm just gonna
finish up here and go home. Fill out some more job applications, and get an
early start tomorrow."
Buffy shrugged. "Your loss. You're never going to meet another girl if you
stay home and hide all the time though."
"Somehow, Buff, this really does not bother me."
"Well it should! You can't expect to go through your life alone,
Xander."
"Actually, Buffy, Xander's gay now."
"He is? How did I miss that?"
"That's kinda why he broke up with Anya."
"Oh. Yeah. I forgot. Well you're not going to meet guys either if you
don't get out of the basement sometimes, Xander."
Xander felt a headache coming on. "Um, I'm just gonna go clean the weapons
now, okay?" While I still have some shreds of dignity left.
Xander checked his watch. Only another four hours and thirty seven minutes
until sunset.
He could last that long.
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