Manly Man

"Spike?"

"Yeah, luv?" Spike stretched his legs out, turning his face up to the moon and to the sodium lamps.

"Do you think I'm manly?"

"Well I dunno. Let me check." With a smirk, Spike casually dropped a hand into Xander's lap to grope.

"Spike!" Xander's voice jumped an octave, and he shimmied back, though not away from the wandering hand.

"Yeah?"

"There, there're kids around!"

Spike made a show of looking this way and that, even shaded his eyes like an old fashioned explorer. "Don't see any," he announced, at last. "Think we gave them all the slip around sun down."

"Well we're in a park! There's bound to be some somewhere."

"It's ten at night, Xander."

"Vampire kids." They stared at each other. "Okay, that was reaching."

"Only kids out here are teenagers getting up to things that'd likely corrupt you. Can I answer the question now?" Spike still hadn't removed his hand from Xander's groin, and rose over him, bracing a hand on the back of the bench.

"Go, go ahead."

"Right, then. Let's see. Two bollocks. Nice hard cock like the one I had up my arse not two hours ago. Feel like a man to me. Now why're you asking me if you're manly?"

Xander weakly picked up the newspaper, folded open to the comics section.

"Oh come on. Were there no articles worth discussing?"

"Spike. This is a genuine neurosis here. It's part of the modern male's condition."

Spike groaned, letting his head drop forward onto Xander's shoulder. "Thank god I'm not a modern male. The hell, Xander? Who gives a toss? Besides me, any rate. You're plenty manly for me."

"You cry at the movies."

"So?"

"That's not very manly."

"Bollocks. Manly enough not to care what anyone thinks, aren't I? And I only cry at some movies."

"See? See? You don't want to admit you cry at the movies. That's because you're embarrassed for the lack of manliness."

"No, pillock. That's because I'm embarrassed to be seen at movies that bad. And big bad vampires don't cry at movies. Now, when I was a man, I cried at bloody near everything."

"And would you call William manly?"

"Had all the requisite bits, as I recall. Can't say as they all worked properly, not having got any use, but-"

"Excuse me. Did you say they didn't get any use?"

"I lived in polite society in Victorian England, pet. First erection I had made me think God was punishing me for lewd thoughts. 'Course, the lewd thoughts were wondering if ladies had two legs proper like mine."

"You're kidding."

Spike shrugged. "Pet, the moment Dru put her hand on my dick, I knew I'd turned evil 'cause it wasn't supposed to feel that good, right? That was the evil, not her fangs in me throat."

"Wow."

"Times've changed, luv." Spike glanced down, let his palm rub circles into Xander's groin, rocking into the strained denim.

"You're still evil."

"Don't doubt that." Spike glanced around the park, then popped the buttons on Xander's jeans one by one. "In fact, got some corrupting of innocents to do."

"I'm nah- not innocent." Xander swallowed the word, and possibly his tongue as Spike slipped his hand inside. "Your fingers are cold!"

"Evil," Spike said, and slithered off the bench.

"I thought we were talking about manly."

Spike's tongue traced his bottom lip, eyes fixed intensely enough on Xander's cock to leave him feeling like a snack. A snack that pulsed obligingly under the intensity of Spike's look. "Nah. Got the manly bits covered. Now, we're only talking evil."

"Cold, cold! Cold lips, cold tongue, cold m-mouth! Ah! Okay, cold but don't stop." And how freaking weird did it feel when Spike laughed around him like that?