Wide Asleep

Spike was dreaming.

In fact, Spike was dreaming of sex.

This was not, in itself, surprising at all, as Spike often dreamed of sex.

Spike was also dreaming of heated, Xander-flavored kisses, a hot mortal tongue coaxing his jaws apart, and slip-sliding slick and warm against the roof of his mouth, over his teeth, and beneath his tongue, flickering along the tender under side.

What was unusual, perhaps, was how vivid the dream was, and the way that it didn't go away when Spike opened his eyes, his lips, and his legs to an armful of heated mortal skin and hardness.

Spike groaned against Xander's tongue, against his lips and teeth, and buried his fingers in his hair, drinking in the puffs of warm breath feathering over his face. Then, Xander shifted, and he saw sparks, slamming his head back into the pillow. "God, luv! You know how to wake a bloke up."

"Shh," Xander said. "I'm still asleep."

Spike felt a hysterical giggle bubble its way up his throat, and went with it, letting it merge with sweetly mad memories of Drusilla. "Whatever you say, pet."

"I'm really asleep," Xander said, even less credibly, the way he was trying not to grin, and the way his fingers flexed and curled on the backs of Spike's shoulders. "Deeply asleep."

"You're a loony."

Xander laughed, but kept his eye closed, and mercifully enough, his hips moving, and Spike decided Xander could be as mad as he liked if it'd get him wake ups like this more often. "It worked," he said, "for a woman in Australia."

Spike snorted. "Australia. Not helping your argument for sanity there, pet."

"Ooh. British snobbery," Xander said, and shifted just right to draw a strangled breath from Spike.

"Bein' nailed into the mattress by a Yank, Xander. Got to get me honor back somewhere."

Xander's shoulders shook with his laughter, and he dropped his mouth back to Spike's, sucking the fullness of Spike's lower lip between his teeth and nibbling until it tingled and throbbed with the mortal pulse filling him. "Was reading the newspaper." Xander slapped a hand over Spike's mouth before he could state the obviousness of this particular revelation, and continued. "This woman," Xander said, tracing a finger over Spike's tingling lip, "in Canberra is a sleep walker. Told her doctor she's been having sex with people in her sleep. Diagnosed, mm, with sleep sex disorder. All official. Very m-medical. Sleep sex disorder."

Xander opened his eye at last, and Spike could see it sparkling with all that barely suppressed laughter. Laughed with it. "And you what--thought it sounded like fun and decided to give it a whirl?"

"Uh huh," Xander said, biting hard on his lip, and muffling the laugh against Spike's shoulder.

Spike looked up at him, disheveled and happy, and in between falling in love with Xander all over again, and fighting down the urge to grab him, snog him, flip him over, and ride him until they both popped, he asked, "What's the verdict then? Think she's for real?"

Xander cracked up, falling onto Spike's body, and looking up at him, eye warm and shining. "It's a load of shit. Nobody could sleep through this."

"Yeah," Spike said, catching Xander around the back of his neck, and dragging him back up to be kissed, "but it's bloody nice to wake up to."