A
Altoz
Guest
As the motorbike roared past him, Xander was unprepared for the hand
that circled firmly around his waist and pulled him on the pillion
seat. He let out a breathless "Thanks..." and then saw who it was.
"Oh shit!"
"Nice to see you too, Harris." Spike responded, grinning.
"Spike, what the hell are you doin' back in town? Buffy'll whip
your ass..." Xander protested, although he liked the way the aforementioned
posterior felt against the front of his jeans.
"Promises, promises. Anyway, whelp, looked like you needed a hand."
"Uh yeah, uh thanks. Hell. Those guys were man-eaters." Xander said, shivering
at the memory of how close he'd come to being a zombie main course.
"True. Thought I noticed somethin' a little queer about that O'Toole
bloke." Spike grinned again, but then he realised Harris hadn't gotten the
joke. Typical.
"You're telling me? Incidentally, where's tall, russet-bloused and psychotic
tonight?"
"Every now and then Dru and I have some time apart. Don't worry. My
intentions this evening are purely dishonourable. "
"Hey, if you're thinking of turning me..." Xander suddenly became aware
that he might have been taken as a hostage, much to his dismay
"Wouldn't dream of it, mate. Anyway, you look kinda hot and dusty
from that hassle back there. Want me to pull into a motel so you can
grab a shower and..."
"Oh no you don't . I've seen Psycho" Xander protested, as they pulled
into a secluded motel on the verge of town.
"Just to put your mind at rest, no, I have never dressed up in grey hair and
don crappy Victorian gingham. I leave that to the Great P-"
"Really?" Xander raised an eyebrow and his mouth dropped.
"Far be it from me to talk about Darla and him out of school. However..."
Several fabricated and half-true anecdotes from the peroxide-haired vampire
later, the two had ended up at what was coincidentally known as the Bates Motel.
(Yes, I know, but this one harboured an alternate universe Norma this time,
not a Norman. Robert Bloch's copyright is safe with me, don't worry)
. Once inside, Xander stretched and pulled his white t-shirt over his head:
"Thanks, Spike."
Spike nodded, watching as Xander unselfconsciously removed his
shoes, socks and belt, until he realised Spike was watching him as he
doffed his jeans:
"Huh?"
"Just out of interest, Harris. Have you ever done it with a bloke?"
"Hey, don't believe what Larry Blaisdell says, he just jumped to
conclusions. .. why are you taking off your t-shirt?"
"Ah, well, I did overhear you payin' that compliment about my
anatomy. Thanks, by the way. Have you, though?"
"No. But. Aw hell. Look, don't take your jeans off... no, on second
thought...wow. "
"You have me at a slight disadvantage, mate." Xander became aware
that Spike was naked, and showing...other forms of interest in him.
"Oh. Hell . Er, how? You're the naked one."
"C'mover 'ere, pet..." And Xander did, hesitantly, until Spike
closed the distance and suddenly the night caught on fire as Spike's
hand snaked down...
two years later, at the Bronze, a young woman asked a question,
and the two men looked at each other, then hurriedly away, in a
mixture of embarrassment and remembered passion.
And two more years later, Xander dropped his towel and walked across
to join Spike as he showered, and the two of them finally got wet together.
THE END
that circled firmly around his waist and pulled him on the pillion
seat. He let out a breathless "Thanks..." and then saw who it was.
"Oh shit!"
"Nice to see you too, Harris." Spike responded, grinning.
"Spike, what the hell are you doin' back in town? Buffy'll whip
your ass..." Xander protested, although he liked the way the aforementioned
posterior felt against the front of his jeans.
"Promises, promises. Anyway, whelp, looked like you needed a hand."
"Uh yeah, uh thanks. Hell. Those guys were man-eaters." Xander said, shivering
at the memory of how close he'd come to being a zombie main course.
"True. Thought I noticed somethin' a little queer about that O'Toole
bloke." Spike grinned again, but then he realised Harris hadn't gotten the
joke. Typical.
"You're telling me? Incidentally, where's tall, russet-bloused and psychotic
tonight?"
"Every now and then Dru and I have some time apart. Don't worry. My
intentions this evening are purely dishonourable. "
"Hey, if you're thinking of turning me..." Xander suddenly became aware
that he might have been taken as a hostage, much to his dismay
"Wouldn't dream of it, mate. Anyway, you look kinda hot and dusty
from that hassle back there. Want me to pull into a motel so you can
grab a shower and..."
"Oh no you don't . I've seen Psycho" Xander protested, as they pulled
into a secluded motel on the verge of town.
"Just to put your mind at rest, no, I have never dressed up in grey hair and
don crappy Victorian gingham. I leave that to the Great P-"
"Really?" Xander raised an eyebrow and his mouth dropped.
"Far be it from me to talk about Darla and him out of school. However..."
Several fabricated and half-true anecdotes from the peroxide-haired vampire
later, the two had ended up at what was coincidentally known as the Bates Motel.
(Yes, I know, but this one harboured an alternate universe Norma this time,
not a Norman. Robert Bloch's copyright is safe with me, don't worry)
. Once inside, Xander stretched and pulled his white t-shirt over his head:
"Thanks, Spike."
Spike nodded, watching as Xander unselfconsciously removed his
shoes, socks and belt, until he realised Spike was watching him as he
doffed his jeans:
"Huh?"
"Just out of interest, Harris. Have you ever done it with a bloke?"
"Hey, don't believe what Larry Blaisdell says, he just jumped to
conclusions. .. why are you taking off your t-shirt?"
"Ah, well, I did overhear you payin' that compliment about my
anatomy. Thanks, by the way. Have you, though?"
"No. But. Aw hell. Look, don't take your jeans off... no, on second
thought...wow. "
"You have me at a slight disadvantage, mate." Xander became aware
that Spike was naked, and showing...other forms of interest in him.
"Oh. Hell . Er, how? You're the naked one."
"C'mover 'ere, pet..." And Xander did, hesitantly, until Spike
closed the distance and suddenly the night caught on fire as Spike's
hand snaked down...
two years later, at the Bronze, a young woman asked a question,
and the two men looked at each other, then hurriedly away, in a
mixture of embarrassment and remembered passion.
And two more years later, Xander dropped his towel and walked across
to join Spike as he showered, and the two of them finally got wet together.
THE END