"Do what?" Spike glared with a mixture of shock, incredulity, and panic.

"Out of bed, now; I don't want you here."

Anger was rapidly taking over when Spike noticed that, far from looking remorseful or ashamed, Xander was himself dressing as quickly as the haphazard scattering of clothes allowed. In fact, the sight of Xander as he jigged, bounced, crawled, bent over, scrabbled and hopped had Spike quite spell-bound and he watched happily as his boy attempted to dress himself.

"Xan?"

"Huh? What? Hey, come on hurry up, get out and dress." Xander looked across at Spike, wearing just an impatient frown, a pair of socks and one shoe, as he struggled to push his arm into the knotted-sleeve of his shirt.

"Oy, Harris!" Spike looked down meaningfully at his neglected and twitching penis which, moments before, had been expecting the hot, wet bliss of Xander's mouth. "You were in the middle of something here, what the hell do you mean by just stopping?"

"*I'm* not stopping, Spike; I just told you - get up and dress." Xander looked down as he tucked his own decidedly interested-looking cock away into sweat pants, "Come on, don't be such a prick-tease."

At this patent injustice, Spike slipped off the elbow that was holding him up and lay in shock lost (for the first time in probably decades) for words. His jeans landed on his face and a second later he felt something hard and heavy hit his knee.

"Alright, this is the bloody limit. You suddenly stop as you're about to go down on me, tell me to get out, and *you're* calling *me* a prick-tease? Harris, I think there is something seriously fuckin' wrong with you."

"Trust me, Spike. What I've got planned, you'll like. *You* are holding us up. Ego, *you* are the one doing the prick-teasing. And what are you doing with my other shoe? I'm looking for that."

Spike held up the knee-seeking missile. "You threw it; you fetch it. And that's ergo."

"Huh? Right, well hurry up and get yours."

"S'all I want, Shit-for-brains. Thought I was getting mine - ten seconds ago."

"Just move your lily-white, Spike. I'm ready to go and there's no point if you're not with me."

"Well that sounds like the best friggin' offer I've had all night," grumbled a seething vampire as he crawled reluctantly out of bed. "Says a lot for the night so far, that does." He threw on his clothes and lit up a cigarette. "Harris," he jabbed the hand holding his cigarette, towards Xander, to emphasise his displeasure, "before you begin whatever it is you have in mind - just let me warn you..."

Xander stepped close and pulling Spike's arm around him, he closed the complaining blond's mouth with his own. "Don't worry, Spike. You'll enjoy. And it's morning."

"I better had, that's all, or..."

"You'll what, Fangless, lick me to death?"

The two men drew slowly apart, as the hackneyed jibe resonated with new meaning.

Spike growled softly; pulling Xander back to him he buried his face in the human's warm neck and started to move him back to the bed. "I don't care what you want, Harris, I want you, now."

[[grmmph, death by licking, now, yes. Mmmm, Spike, yes, Spike...]] "NO! Spike! Later, very soony later but not now soon. Later soon, very soon later and... Oh yeah, right there, that's... NOT GOOD. No! Bad Spike. We got to go - now!"

"But Xan, I'm awfully good when I'm bad."

The glazed eyes and the pout almost had Xander giving in, then he remembered what he wanted to do. "Good, then in just over five minutes you can be as bad as you want. And I'll show you just how bad I can be."

The pout turned calculating and Xander was treated to the full eyebrow-raised, head-tilted contemplative Spike. "Yeah, right. Get a move on then, Harris, you're wasting time again."

Xander had no intention of wasting any time and his steps were brisk as he marched Spike out onto the still-dark street; seconds later they were driving off in the direction of the town centre.

************

"Um, why are we at the Watcher's shop?" Spike was looking decidedly unimpressed. He watched Xander fumbling with his keys to the Magic Box's front door, "I hope you got the alarm code sussed, cos I don't want to be..." [[I love it when he talks too much. Shutting him up is such fun.]] Xander managed to get them both into the shop, the door relocked and the alarm re-set, while keeping their mouths sealed together. A long time passed before they pulled apart.

Before Spike could say anything, Xander laid a finger on his lips and drew him farther into the shop. At the table, Xander stopped, took a deep breath then expelled it in frustration as he failed to find the words he wanted. He tried again. "You... I want, wanted... because, that is, agh..."

"Mhm, back to the building blocks of conversation, again? Can't we just..."

"No! That is..." Xander stepped back. Half sitting on the table, he hung his head to form a small barrier between him and Spike as he felt his face flush.

"Ooh, little Xannie's blushing! Come on, tell Uncle Spikey why you're blushing. Is the big bad vampire going to enjoy what's got you all embarrassed?"

"Lose the leather."

"What?" Spike's face was a picture.

"Spike, can the cackle and just lose the leather, already."

"Can the...?"

Xander straightened up and looked directly at the other man. Spike's mouth fell into its familiar smirk as he saw the expression glowing in the dark eyes before him. {oh, yes. I think the big Bad is going to enjoy}

Spike licked his lips as he slowly slipped the coat from his shoulders and let it drop down his arms. He watched Xander's face avidly.

Xander merely leaned some of his weight back on his hands and stretched long legs in front of him and looked Spike up and down. It was in the same way, and yet in a completely different way, that he had been looking at Spike for weeks. The difference now was that he did not attempt to hide his visual trawl up and down the vampire's body. Far from it. Now it was he who licked his lips. He shifted his weight forward again. "Spike, go and fetch that book Giles had you find the other night."

Waiting for it, Spike had no trouble in hearing the whisper of movement behind him as he bent towards the volume that he knew Xander had no interest in. Sure enough, he felt strong hands wandering over his backside and, although it was no surprise, he could not suppress the hiss of delight that this wanton groping elicited.

"Bend over. Farther." Xander's voice was tight and choked. He ran his hands slowly over the long, lean back, now parallel to the floor. Stepping to the side, he held Spike in place with one hand pressed firmly down on his shoulders while he moved the palm of the other in slow, firm circles over denim-clad buttocks. [[oh, God, yes. *That* place.]] His fingers curled in and under as they mapped out the contours in front of him, grasping and teasing and kneading [[needing]]. Then, pressing just hard enough, he ran one finger along the heavy seam of Spike's jeans following its line between the cheeks of Spike's ass [[mhwwm]] and down as it curved under his body. His other fingers joined it to play lightly over the rounded bulge that was Spike's balls. If he were to push they would, he knew, give and shift to move delightfully under his fingertips. He didn't push, just felt them under the worn, soft fabric as his fingers glided across it.

Spike groaned and pushed back into Xander's hand. His own hands spasmed as they grasped the bookshelf . Then Xander was pulling him up and around and was kissing him as he pushed him back against the shelves. Linking their fingers, Xander forced Spike's arms up and along a shoulder-high shelf. He stepped back to assess his arrangement. Pleased with what he saw, he grasped Spike's head in one hand and, with the other, ran the heel of his palm over the enticing, and surely uncomfortable bulge, that now threatened the front seam of Spike's jeans. This time, his fingers curled around the balls beneath, squeezing and assessing.

"Xan, not I'm complaining… I mean, what you're doing is fine… but why….?"

"Here, Spike. It has to be here. The first time *I* touch *you*, it has to be here – this is where I watched you and realised I wanted you. Wanted to do this to you… right here… whenever I wanted to…" Breath coming in jagged gasps, Xander watched avidly as his fingers moved and weighed and shifted the compliant flesh beneath its clothing. Despite the tightness of the denim, he could feel the globes of Spike's balls move however his questing fingers demanded; he could feel the rigid shaft of Spike's penis slide under his palm. But now his hand burned to feel the naked silk of Spike's skin under his own and his mouth ached to taste that flesh.

Still flexing his hand over Spike's covered erection, he glanced up to look him in the eye and slowly dragged his other hand down Spike's scalp until his nails raked the tender skin of his neck.

Spike's eyelids were heavy as he struggled to keep watching the erotic sight that was Xander - feeling and touching him and claiming his body for his own pleasure. He stretched his arms even further, relishing the burn in the muscles, offering this small pain to the man before him. His eyes closed in satisfaction. "God, Xander you could have done this a long time ago, you kn…"

"Shut up, Spike. You're done with talking for now. Just shut up and watch what I'm doing to you."

Xander's fingers dug harshly into Spike's trapezium and didn't relax until Spike's eyes flew wide open and he hissed his pleasure at the pain. Xander's reaction was to squeeze even harder on Spike's balls. "Take your shirt off," he muttered. With a little fumbling, Spike was quick to comply. Xander watched his fingers run across the muscles of Spike's chest and, biting his lip, he raked his nails across the pale skin, catching his breath as bright red weals tracked his ministrations. "Put your arms back where they were." When Spike obeyed he traced his tongue along the serpentine curve of muscle on his upper arm, flicking lightly, dragging the flat of his tongue heavily, then biting and sucking the flesh into his mouth.

Spike groaned and Xander thrust his tongue into the other man's mouth and attacked it as if his life depended upon it. His hands were still busy; one continued groping the [[god, so hard]] bulge trapped in Spike's jeans, the other was mauling an equally hard nipple. He stepped back, pulling his mouth away from Spike so abruptly that Spike's tongue followed him, like a snake's testing the air for prey. Xander stood for a while, just enjoying watching his hands doing what he'd dreamt of doing – and enjoying the sight of a cruciform Spike, rapture glowing in his face.

"Spike, wanna ask you something," he managed to force out.

"Whaaa?" Spike's reply was not reassuringly cogent.

"N'now. Busy. Tell me ask you later."

"Grunmph."

Message delivered and received, both men's brains went back on hold and their bodies concentrated on the moment. Xander sank to his knees and nuzzled into the wonderfully musky-scented crotch in front of him as his hands roamed Spike's legs, grasping, probing and rubbing hard against the material to feel a tender burning on his skin. Mouthing the dampening cloth that covered Spike's twitching penis and tasting the merest hint of the pre-cum, Xander was torn between wanting to rip Spike's jeans off to reach naked flesh in the shortest possible time and savouring a slow strip. Grasping Spike's butt tightly, he pulled hard, so that mouth was crushed against outline of cock. "Get yourself out for me," he mumbled.

Spike groaned and fumbled with his button, his movements constricted by Xander's mouth. Craving participation, Xander brought a hand around to grasp Spike's and relished the sight as, together, they urged the zip on, along its journey downwards.

Finally, Xander sat back a little and watched unblinkingly as Spike gradually pushed his jeans down his lean hips to display himself to other man's greedy gaze. "Oh, yeah. Hold it out for me. Show me." Spike shuddered as he watched Xander examine him and bit his lip with a low groan as the young human bent slowly towards him, fingertips touching, oh so lightly, and flickering over his penis's silky skin. Spike's hands were pushed off the twitching, welcoming cock and his shaft was pressed between warm, work-callused palms and {yesss} [[yesss]] kiss-swollen lips slid around the head, tongue lapping at precum, teeth tugging at foreskin.