Over A Drink

"Damn it! I know that it hurts." Xander folded his arms and glared at Spike the way Spike would've never dared to glare at his si- Oh, who was he kidding? Spike dared that and a hell of a lot more back in the day. Was kinda cute on Xander.

"Oh? How's that then?" Spike leaned against the banister, pulling a pack of cigarettes from within his duster and lighting up.

"It has to!"

"You've had your spine severed, have you? Know what it's like first hand?" Truth was, walking did hurt. Every step was bleeding agony, but Spike would sooner wheel himself in to the Watchers Council Headquarters with a big "Stake Me" sign on his chest than admit it to Xander. Wasn't as if the boy knew what a vamp in pain smelled like yet. "Stopped hurtin' weeks ago," he lied.

"That might be more convincing if your hand wasn't shaking," Xander said slowly, though he kept himself out of easy smacking range. Spike's boy wasn't stupid, after all.

Spike looked down at his hand. Not too bad. Dru shook worse on a good day. "'M just hungry. We got any of that delivery boy left?"

"Uh. No. I put him in the freezer last night." Xander grimaced, and rummaged behind the bar, pulling out a tumbler and a half empty bottle of Jack Daniels, Spike noticed with approval. His boy was definitely a quick learner. "He was kind of bled white."

"S' all right, pet. Jack'll do."

Xander came back, presenting him with the tumbler and a big smile. "Nah. We finished Jack on Thursday. You remember him: this tall, red hair?"

Spike threw his head back and laughed, slinging an arm around Xander's neck, and if he leaned on Xander as they crossed the living room, that was nobody's business but his. "Make me more proud of you every day, you do." He let Xander ease him down onto the couch, and watched the boy over the rim of his glass as he knelt between Spike's spread legs. "So bloody beautiful," Spike said, reaching out to run his fingers through the boy's hair, relaxing. "So sodding smart."

He cupped a hand over Xander's cheek, loving the way he nuzzled into Spike's palm like a kitten, and purred when Spike petted him. Something good might come out of Sunnyhell yet. Spike felt his cock rising, the room getting brighter with the dilation of his pupils as Xander slid his hands up Spike's thighs, unfastening his belt and zipper with the single-minded attention of a starving man. "My clever boy."

And oh, the sweetness of his boy's moan, like it was Spike's hands on his cock, Spike's mouth closing over him and sucking him down so hungrily instead of the other way around. The California days may have been long, but it hadn't taken much to find a way to keep Xander occupied.

"Yeah. Keep doin' that." Spike slouched for a better view, still entranced by the slick sheen of his cock sliding in and out of those pale lips, wide mouth wrapping him neatly, taking him down like he was made for this. Without so much of a hint of teeth. Not that teeth didn't have their place, but his boy was a fucking artist, a bleeding natural cocksucker. "God, you're perfect." And best of all, with every scrap of praise thrown his way, Xander's eyes would close, and he'd moan desperately, fucking the air like a bitch in heat.

Damaged goods.

Just ripe for Spike to pick up the pieces and put 'em all back together the way they suited him.

And right then, Xander's throat bulging with Spike's cock, his lips stretched wide and wet, sucking him down with greedy whimpers like Spike's come was all he needed to live on, Spike reckoned Xander's pieces were comin' together just fine.