Xander knew he was probably crazy because hello - wandering Sunnydale at night with an unchained vampire.

An unchained vampire with hands.

That grabbed and groped.

Very gropey grabby unchained vampire who made Xander's body sit up and beg. Sometimes made Xander sit up and beg too. But not in public.

Much.

He did have Xander's cheek pressed against a cemetery wall and one hand down the front of his pants stroking his dick like it was his own, making little snuffling sucking noises against his neck and nuzzling - licking his throat and that really should have wigged Xander out.

Not that there was any chance for Xander to escape even if his body had wanted an escape from the *hands - good hands. Nice hands with clever fingers and oh - hello, Mr. Vampire cock up against his ass and - *

What was the question?

So he was a vampire's bitch.

So he had given up on keeping the vampire chained in less than a week because - hello futility!

So he was begging for it up the ass once a month - and three times a day on weekends.

So his parents had a yard sale with the belongings he hadn't managed to sneak out of the house and to the mansion on Crawford street.

So he was probably going to die some day when this vampire got bored.

That was fine.

Xander could deal.

In fact, Xander could deal even better if Spike kept tugging and stroking Xander's oh so happy cock and nibbling on his neck. Funny buzzy nibbles - like Spike was saying something. Oh. Spike was saying something. "Huh?"

"Said you're getting awfully prickly, beastie." Spike growled and it took Xander a moment to realize what he meant - when Spike scratched his fingernails through the stubble that was slowly turning Xander's look from rugged chic to homeless guy.

Cordy had threatened him with a weed whacker.

"Yeah well that's what happens when you live in the home of a guy who never bothered to install mirrors."

"Don't remember you being this fuzzy last year." Spike caught a tuft of Xander's happy trail between his fingers and tugged until Xander whined.

And Xander had to get his body back with the program one of these days. Because in the great multiple choice exam of life, the correct response to a vampire yanking on your body hair was a - whine, b - grind back against the vampire like a bitch in heat, c - all of the above, or d - none of the above and run away some place safe. Either his body was dyslexic, really liked the letter c or he was going to die.

Oh yeah - he was already gonna die. Might as well mouth off. "That'd be because I was on the swim team last year." And oh -those nice fingers switched from tugging to petting and suddenly Xander understood the appeal of belly rubs.

"Oh?"

"Uh huh."

"And what's that got to do with bein' fuzzy? Some hair-dissolving chemical in the school pool?"

"No - uh - yes to weird chemicals in the pool - or something - but no. To." Xander braced his hands against the stone wall and spread because who didn't think better with a vampire grinding against their ass on a major town thoroughfare? "Uh."

"Fuzz?" Spike murmured in Xander's ear, pressed cool and close and heavy behind him until Xander was crushed against the rock and panting.

"Wax," Xander croaked.

"Really," Spike said and took a step away, bracing a hand against Xander's back which was good because it kept Xander from dropping straight to the ground when his knees gave out because all of the blood was in his -

Xander yelped.

Had been in his dick until Spike squeezed it to get his attention.

Very effective.

"Used to wax your body silky smooth, did you? All slippery like an eel in the water?"

"Um. Yes. Except for the part about having fins and secreting slime through my skin." Unlike the rest of the team. And suddenly, being Hyena Boy the Vampire's Bitch really didn't sound so bad.

"And where did you go to have this little ritual performed?"

The hands were back - the good hands, friendly hands that were undoing his button and zipper and jacking him nice and slow with that twist at the end that always made him think Spike was double jointed - Xander sucked in his breath and his thoughts together with monumental effort. "Don't squeeze!"

Spike stared at him calmly. "Now why would I do that?"

Xander dropped his head to the cool surface of the wall, groaned. "You are so asking the wrong guy." Xander rolled his forehead against the stone - folded his arms over his head and gave in because guys with low life expectancies didn't have to worry about silly things like pride.

"Answer the other question, pet. It's easier."

"Uh - "

"Where did you go to have all this fur taken off you? Did it yourself? Your team mates, maybe? All sitting around the locker room like nancies rippin' off each others' fur?"

Xander resolutely did not think about dribbling hot wax on Gage's chest. Nope. Not thinking about that. Not getting hard thinking about that. Getting hard off good old fashioned vampire hand jobs and that was - "You squeezed!" Xander would have twisted and glared but Spike was already back to stroking and hello - no pride left?

"You weren't payin' attention."

"Why do you want to know where I went to get waxed anyway?"

"Can't have my boy looking like Indiana Jones' kid brother, can I?" Spike slid his palm over Xander's tip, gathering moisture and slick and stripping his hand down over Xander's flesh fast and hard and slippery. "Better tell me. I'll get what I want. There's a funeral procession comin' down the street - bout half a mile away. Sounds like a long one. Now. I could finish you off before it gets here and lights up all our fun if I had somewhere better to be. Otherwise - I don't mind putting on a bit of pre-burial entertainment."

Xander gasped - and came so quickly he staggered - stared wide eyed at the drips and dollops splattering the cemetery wall and Spike's fingers presented to his lips wetly.

"My my. You are a sick little boy."

"Spike..."

"Gonna tell me?" Spike pressed close against his back and how could a guy with no body temperature have a voice that warm? "Remember I always get what I want, beastie."

Xander couldn't look - he hadn't been able to look since Spike had followed him into the client room and seated himself in a chair - watching and ordered the full body wax.

Oh no - no Speedo wax for the Xand-man.

Nothing but hairless from the neck down would do for his vampire.

So Spike had watched - and comments aimed with precision timing between the burning and tingling and ripping of wax strips and hair had left him hard - and fuck Xander missed the security of his Speedo.

"Nothing to be ashamed of, pet. You've a lovely cock - so nice and thick and full." Spike's voice drifted around the chair - behind Xander who was not looking and had his eyes squeezed shut tight. "Isn't it Jeff? Your name is Jeff, right? Wouldn't you like to slick it up and climb aboard?"

That image flashed across Xander's mind and he bit his tongue until he tasted blood not to whimper and not - *please, please god* - to let loose that first bubble and pulse of pre-come he could feel building in his balls and just when he thought he couldn't be any more humiliated cold fingers slid over Xander's newly smooth and stinging balls and he whimpered.

"Asked you a question, Jeff."

The silence was loud with Xander's ragged breathing and he wished he could just stop but that was about as likely as Spike stopping and he really hoped Jeff didn't have any little brothers or sisters who went to Sunnydale High.

"It would not be a hardship," Jeff admitted and Xander moaned out loud at the slippery slide of cooling after-wax gel onto his skin. Up his legs, over his chest and down - down -

He yipped and tried to sit up against the steel-strong vampire arms that held him down when Jeff's hands slid over his balls, stared wide-eyed into guileless hazel eyes that watched him with concentration Xander could feel and he closed his eyes again because his dick was an indiscriminate whore who didn't care that he was paying this Jeff - okay that Spike was paying this Jeff to rip every hair out of his body from the shoulders down and was now fondling his balls and moving up to -

"That's enough."

Xander's eyes flew open - saw Spike's fingers curled around Jeff's nerveless wrist - pull it away from Xander with deceptive delicacy. "But - "

"You're through. Go on, now." Money changed hands. "Go."

Xander didn't dare move - for one thing, he could see golden eyes and ridges out the corner of his eye. For another, any movement at all meant the slide of burning smooth skin over something cool and right about then, even a sharp look was gonna make him come. *So, so not planning - p - planning - * "Spike!"

"Hmm. Nice, pet. Lovely skin." Xander watched in horror as Spike slung a leg over his and slid up to sit on his thighs - all roaming hands and rough denim over skin that couldn't make up its mind whether it was numb or a tingling bundle of nerves waiting to go off - and Xander's body was not objecting. "Smooth."

Spike's fingers caressed up to Xander's jaw, cheek and made him jump at the unexpected feel of bristly hair catching and scratching under Spike's fingernails. Tickling and making the rest of him feel more naked than naked and after months of wandering around the mansion without - with -

Xander shivered and cast a nervous look at the wax.

"Oh no luv. Not wasting this fur on wax." Spike's fingers slid down to Xander's throat, nudged up under his jaw and smoothed the stubble. Xander heard the door open again - couldn't see anything but ceiling and lights, feel anything but Spike's weight on his thighs and the heavy chill of the duster draping his shins.

There were footsteps, soft clinks and clatters and a shush of bristles over wood that sounded like the Japanese tea ceremony he went to in Eighth Grade Social Studies class but smelled like lemon and cloves and mint - and the cool of Spike's fingers and palms rubbing his throat and jaw. *Maybe vampires like to tenderize their prey before they snack.* A hysterical giggle bubbled its way from Xander's belly to his throat when the door clicked shut again.

"What's got you all giggly now?" Spikes fingertips stroked the edge of Xander's jaw and worked up to the soft place behind his ears, rubbed and made him want to thump his hind leg or something. He settled for a moan because hello no pride left.

"Th-this is a lot of effort for an appetizer."

"Oh you're more than an appetizer little beastie," Spike said with a flutter of cold breath over Xander's skin. "You're a banquet now, aren't you?"

Xander resolutely did not look into the floor to ceiling mirror because he knew what he'd see - himself, writhingly turned on and no blankety vampire in sight. Jeff hadn't even questioned. Which made Xander question his sanity for coming to this place when he was on the swim team but considering that the swim team had been made up of creatures from the Black Lagoon and it was the coach who sent him here - "Hey!" Xander sputtered and rubbed briskly at his face, scrubbing off the drips and dollops of shaving foam Spike had flicked at him from the shaving brush.

"Don't want you wandering off into that head of yours. I said when I'm done with you, you're gonna be a feast."

"Wh - what are you gonna do?"

Spike dipped a hand into his duster and gave his wrist a flick, snapping open the blade of the old fashioned straight razor he held then laying it cold and sharp against Xander's cheek. "Gonna finish the job."

So not easy to hyperventilate without moving at all. So impossible to dematerialize through a salon chair away from the vampire with the razor and the - the grin and the psychotic eyes -

Okay, Spike's eyes were always psychotic. Because he was a psychotic killing machine who was sitting on Xander's naked lap with a straight razor he'd probably used to kill people and Xander did not want to be shaved with a murder weapon -

Spike tapped Xander sharply on the cheek. "Breathe pet. Your lips are turning blue."

Xander sucked in a hard breath, panted and kept on being humiliatingly hard and - found himself looking at Spike hoping for some kind of reassurance because Spike wouldn't go to all that trouble shaving him just to kill him, right?

"Done with the panic?"

Xander nodded numbly.

"Good." Spike stroked over Xander's stubble one last time and set down the razor. Now that he wasn't on the verge of passing out, Xander realized there was a thick towel draped over Spike's shoulder and that he'd exchanged the razor for a bowl of fragrant shaving foam and the kind of puffy shaving brush Xander saw in the movies - and the fancy bath shops Cordelia could spend hours in. "Wouldn't hurt anyway," Spike said, picking up the brush and swirling it through the foam. "Wouldn't feel a thing if I cut your throat with that blade. Keep it nice and sharp, don't I? Hold still." Spike nudged Xander's chin with a knuckle, sweeping and swirling the foam onto his cheeks and down onto his throat in a bristly, swirly, warm....

Xander's eyes fluttered closed and he moaned under his breath. The foam was warm and silky and felt so nice and who would have thought Spike could be so gentle with his touch and -

He shivered at the first scrape of the razor over his skin, gliding and smooth leaving tight and tingling flesh behind it and it felt - okay it felt really good. Relaxing.

"Not asleep are you?"

"Nuh."

"Good."

Xander wanted to push into the hot-cold glide of the razor - knew that was a bad idea and didn't but wanted to - and his world whittled down to a sharp blade, cool fingertips and the surprise - softly brushed kisses, barely there touch of lips against his cheeks that tingled their way into his skin and made him hard again.

He wanted to see.

Xander's eyes slid open, gaze slipped to the side, to the full length mirror where he stretched out in the chair - flushed and erect and glowing all over, tingled with the sensation of blood rushing so close to the surface all over his body.

"Beautiful, isn't it pet?"

Xander's eyes snapped up, found Spike looking at him in the mirror too, found Spike licking his lips and tracing a finger down Xander's chest that would have made his hair stand on end if he had any left.

"You smell divine."

A trickle of sweat and foam tickled its way into the hollow of Xander's throat when he swallowed. "You - forgot my neck."

Spike's slow smile, slow sly smile that narrowed his eyes and made him look wicked left Xander wishing desperately that he had a longer internal censorship delay between thinking and speaking because - "Saved the best for last, didn't I?" Spike swirled a fingertip through the foam on Xander's throat, picked up the bowl and brush again and swished on another layer - spun and spiraled the bristles, tickled and soothed until Xander made a sound that was nearly a purr and tilted his head back in surrender.

Too relaxed to shudder or flinch at the first touch of Spike's blade, just cool cool flesh left behind by a blade that hadn't nicked him once.

The part of Xander that wasn't mush or throbbing need marveled at Spike's skill - he still hadn't mastered the art of shaving himself without a nick and he used safety razors. He'd probably nick himself with an electric razor. He looked into the mirror, watched the foam stripped away line by line, watched the soft skin revealed to the very last strip then jumped - hissed as a line of red opened up to a flick of the blade, shockingly bright - unreal.

Because he hadn't felt a thing and then Spike's hair tickled along his jaw, cool lips fastened to the tingling cut and electric fingers of pulling pleasure burrowed under Xander's skin, skittered over his nerves - and he grabbed Spike, wrapped his arms up under the duster and held tight, arching and twisting under Spike's grasp, pushed closer.

He could feel the blood singing beneath skin so sensitive it ached for touch in a way it only did before the full moon then Spike's fingers slid over a hairless hip, cool and silky with a handful of warm shaving foam, over Xander's balls and between his legs in a slippery good barely there slide over so so sensitized nerves - had Xander's hips rocking and twisting and arching all to the lub-dub pulse of Spike's lips fastened to his throat and the singing, stinging coolness of the cut.

He came with a shudder, came with a moan, came with Spike's fingers cradling him loosely, in long shuddering pulses that pulled against the pulling in his throat, gathered in scalp and toes and drained his bones and left him limp and warm and sighing with his fingers kneading, kneading at Spike's back.

"Tasty," Spike murmured, withdrew on a final lick, burning kiss and lifted pressure-swollen lips to Xander's mouth for a kiss of copper and smoke.

The towel was rough-gentle over Xander's skin, cleaned his face, cleaned his neck, cleaned his cock and between his legs until he felt - until he was shiny and new.

Again.

Spike pulled him from the chair, took his weight as Xander sagged against him and showed him himself in the mirror - clean and pink and gleaming with glazed and hooded eyes. He looked like sex.

Felt like sex too, and burrowed against Spike, soft cotton, rough denim and the cool and heavy touch of the duster.

And for a moment - one brief moment, the one where Xander's lips met Spike's and his tongue pushed willingly inside the cool and smoky mouth, Xander felt Spike stiffen with surprise.