We're Not Gay. We're Just Friends. Who Have Sex.

Author: Julia the younger

Pairing: Spike/Xander

Rating: NC-17 for sexual references, sexual scenes and language.

Summary: Spike and Xander discover they have a couple of things in common.

Author's note: Oh dear, I've written some slash. What is the world coming to?

Disclaimer: Joss's. Wish they were mine.

Spoilers: Er... set sometime post series 5, no spoilers for series 6.

Distribution: If you want it (choking cough of amazement) just ask.

Feedback: Yes please!!


1: 'It's Not Like That'

I'm not stupid. Hey stop laughing. I have my moments of intelligence. My point is, I know when a person is attractive, even if it is a guy. It's not a sexual thing, I'm just not blind. And I have to admit, Spike has that dangerous, cool thing going, and the guy is buff. Wish I looked that good in jeans. I'm more the baggy, conceal it under layers of clothes kind of guy. I know what girls like. I so know what girls like. (I really need male friends). And Spike has that, well a lot of that. Probably would help if he hadn't tried to kill them so many times. Sort of out weighs the whole sexy thang. Yeah, so, he's hot. I've noticed. So put me in chaps and spank my bare ass. Doesn't mean I'm gay. But it doesn't explain why, at this moment I'm seriously considering what I just thought I considered.


Xander is just looking at me like I grew another head. Or I vamped out or something. Not quite sure which part of what I just said freaked him out but something did. I shrug and take another pull on my bottle of weak American ale. Kid better snap out of it soon or I'm gonna have to finish his beer for him.

I frown, going over what I just said trying to figure out exactly what it was that shook the whelp up so much. I'm a bit drunk. Ok a lot drunk. And remembering isn't the easiest trick when you're a lot drunk. Particularly if you weren't paying attention to what you're saying in the first place. Didn't think he was either, til he got that weirded out look on his face.

Ok. I'll start from the beginning and work from there. Xander was here. We were drinking. We were talking. Actually talking. Like buddy-buddy kind of people. Ahhh beer, the social lubricant. At that thought I take another sip.

Lubricant. That's right. Sex. We were talking about sex. Xander was waxing lyrical about his ex-demon ex. Bout how good a lay she was. How he missed that. That pathetic kind of thing. And so I said a couple of things. I mean, I do have what, a hundred and twenty, a hundred and thirty years experience. Should be allowed to impart a bit of that knowledge. And suddenly he's looking at me like I just offered to paint myself purple and dance naked on a harpsicord, quoting Blackadder.


Spike is just staring at me now. Oh fuck. I'd better say something or else he'll think I think - and then he'll think- No. Not going there.

"Yeah right."

Oh very smooth. Xander, you are the smooth man. Dumb ass. Now he's looking at me like I'm even weirder. I don't know why I even asked if he'd done it with another guy. I mean, why would I want to know that? That is just so... too much information?


"Don't knock it til you try it mate," I grin, recalling what he was responding to. The kid had asked me about the poof. Why I called him the poof. So I told him. Left out the dark stuff. Don't need to lay me past traumas out for the perusal of the Scoobies. Just told him: Yeah. We did it. Couple of times. He was all ewww.

Bloody hell I wish they'd stop doing that. Anything I say these days its all "Ew?". Least they've given up on 'duh' a bit. I've a good mind to give them kids a bloody thesaurus. Tell them to look up some bloody more words.

Yeah right, where was I? Oh, Xander's all "Ewwww". So I of course said. "Why'd you ask Harris? Curious?" And about then he got that look.




Oh shit. He's got that look on his face. The look he gets when he's laughing at you inside and you're not quite sure what the joke is. Ok, projecting highschool a bit here, but you know what I mean. Of course you do. You're my inner dialogue.

"Not knocking it. Not trying it. Very happy with the not trying." I say. I sound convincing yeah? Hello, heterosexual here. Healthy collection of porn? Poster of Angeline Jolie? Breasts. Breasts are good. Very much into breasts.


I laugh. 'Cause I get it now. Harris had himself a homoerotic thought and got spooked. Funny. I have another swig of beer. Thing were going well 'til then, though, what with the drinking and the bloke stuff, so I decide to let it go. In a minute.

"Fair enough," I say. "'Course, no one's to know, if you did- You know. Try. It."

The look on his face is priceless. Then he gets all cool, cause he figures I'm taking the piss. Which I am. Course I am. Like I'm offering? Yeah right. Not to Xander Bloody Harris. Must be on the same train of thought though, cause he asks:

"Why? You offering Spike?"


I was joking. Ok. This has gone far enough. He's still taking making fun of me. He's got to be. Spike's looking at me like he's actually considering... Oh I feel so naked. And dirty.

"You want me to?" he asks. Oh he is so definitely winding me up. He's called my bluff on his bluff. One of us has to break. Ok, it's me.

"I was joking Spike," I say. "Disappointed?"


I'll give it to Harris, he's not afraid of backing down. I give him another one of me patented once overs, the kind that makes bints either slap me in the face, threaten to stake me or drop their knickers.

"Yeah," I say, trying to keep a straight face. That got him. He doesn't know whether I'm joking or serious. I'm joking. Of course. I only get on my knees for one bloke and I ain't done that in over a hundred years neither. Ok, two years. But that night didn't count. We were both pissed. But still, I'm having too much fun to stop tormenting the whelp. And besides, it's sort of a battle of wills now.

"Pity," I say. "It's always fun with a virgin."


"Hey!" I say, indignantly. "Not a virgin! So very not a virgin." Ok, maybe that was a bit of the protesting too much. Again with channeling highschool me?

Spike just chuckles, this - no, not sexy- annoying. Annoying. Laugh. And then he cocks his eyebrow up, like he does and just looks at me. Ok, I admit it, that's cool. Wish I could do the eyebrow thing.

"Not that kind of virgin, lame brain," he smirks.

Oh. Duh. Oh?

"Oh. Again, ew?" I say. And the thought is so not appealing. I am so not considering the idea. I drink some beer and mentally do a Homer... mmmm beer.


Xander gulps down his beer. I think I might have got to him. I obligingly take myself off to the fridge and get us out another couple of drinks. I hand him one just as he finishes the one he was on. He dives into that bottle again and I take a swig of mine and try and decide where I'm going with this. I suppose I should let up. Not that it wasn't fun, tormenting the whelp a bit like that. But. But if I keep it up, what could've been a pleasant evening, with someone who I might possibly, if I was stoned or something, call a friend, would in all likely-hood turn into a round of kick the Spike. On the other hand if I keep this up... No. Xander Harris remember? Don't really need some smart arse crack about chips or bleach when I'm mid-orgasm thank you very much.

So I sit back on my chair and try to think of something innocuous and completely above board and blokey. Something about football.

"We could say we were drunk."


I do a spit-take.

"Excuse me? Fuck Spike. Give it a rest." I don't know why my heart is thudding too loud. "I get it. Haha. Give Xander crap because he isn't as comfortable with his sexuality as certain hundred and twenty whatever year old vampires."

I get to my feet. A little unsteadily. Almost two beers in five minutes is probably not that good for the whole balance thing.


Fuck. Good one Spike. He looks upset. Fuck. And he's going to leave. If he can manage to stand up. Time to make things better.

"Hey, where you going? Look, sorry mate. Got a bit carried away. Just a joke. Went too far. Don't really want to get into your pants." I grin, all friendly like. He doesn't look like he's going to buy it.


He doesn't? Yeah right Xander. Like he would. He's been winding you up. Ha fucking ha. He looks sorry. Ah crap. Dammit. Why does he have to look like he actually cares if I leave? I sit down again. Only because standing is hard.

"Your loss," I say. And grin back. Yeah buddy-vibes all round. I need some more beer.


I chuckle and take a drink. A long one. Good, he's staying. Not that I care... it's just. Well gets lonely sometimes. Bloody hell, I've known the whelp for what two, three years now? That'd have to make us mates, wouldn't it?


"Sooo," I say. "How about those Mets?" I feel the need to talk about sport all of a sudden.

Spike seems to be suddenly on his best behaviour because he doesn't pick me up on it, just follows my lead.

"Yeah, bloody good game that. Ever watch Rugby?" he says.

I say no, and we have an argument about the merits of American sports versus English ones. Rugby vs Football. Soccer/Football vs Football. Cricket vs Baseball. Shit like that. It's been too long since I could talk to someone about this kind of stuff.


I can't believe Harris. He can't seriously be telling me that cricket has no good points.

"Of course it's bloody boring to watch. That's the point. You're supposed to either play it or drink a lot and yell loud abuse at the umpires. If I could be human for one reason it would be so I could sit on the hill in the sun, drink beer and watch the Ashes."

"The Ashes?"

Could the boy be this uneducated? I think its high time I sit him down in front of some cable television.

"England versus Australia." I enlighten him.

"Oh." Xander's face lights up as he thinks of another sports related topic. "Hey, how about Australian Rules?" I laugh and realise I'm having a good time.


I'm drunk. I really am now. I'm so drunk that I actually don't want this evening to end. I realise that I'm having a good time. Spike's being a moron of course. He has no idea about decent manly sport. I make up my mind to get tickets to the next Laker's game and make him go. Man that vampire can talk some crap.

Have I mentioned I'm drunk? That must explain why out of nowhere, somewhere talking about how Aussie Rules guys only wear short shorts and shirts, I ask:

"What's it feel like?"

"What? Short shorts?"

"No," I say. "Gay sex."

Spike just looks at me, but it's not with a smirk. His expression is sort of curious, sort of... cautious. Crap. Why did I ask? Spike swallows and my cock twitches and answers my question.


Why did he ask that? Just when we were getting all manly and blokey and comfortable. Is he joking? He's probably having me on. Paying me back for earlier.

Well he asked. I'll answer.

"Hard to describe," I say. "You're talking bottom I take it? Cause tops much the same... only tighter maybe. Depends."


Ok, I'm not fucking drunk enough.

"Oh. Ok." I say. I'm sort of... I have no idea why I asked and no idea what kind of answer I expected. I guess I was curious. Well I'm a guy. It's sex. There's curiosity.

"Does it... hurt?" Again with the wiggy questions coming out of my mouth.

Spike has that curious expression again, as if he's trying to figure out why I'm asking. He also looks a bit suspicious. I guess he thinks I'm winding him up.

"I just want to know," I say.

"Sometimes," he says, carefully. And there's something. Something in his eyes. For the briefest second. And for the briefest second I want the sharp amused blue back.

He laughs suddenly. And smirks. "But then you know. Vampire. Kind of into pain."


That sort of throws the kid. He looks kind of... well I'm expecting another eww. But then the one thing I never expected comes out of his mouth.

"Yeah, well Angelus never did strike me as a flowers and dinner kind of guy."

I laugh. I have honestly no idea what to say to that. I shift a bit. Aware that my jeans had all of a sudden gotten a bit tight. Then I drain the last of my beer in one go and head for the fridge. Anything to stop the kid looking at me like that. Like he gives a shit.


Spike gets up to get another beer and I'm relieved to not have him looking all of a sudden. Like he's boring into my brain with his eyes. When he laughed, that was good. Definite tension there for a moment. Hence the crack about Angelus. Good old Xander always one with the tension breaker. Yay me.

He comes back and hands me another beer.

"You trying to get me drunk Spike?" I ask, slurring a bit deliberately.

He grins and leers. "Yeah it's my cunning plan to have my evil way with your flabby assed self."

A joke. Good. I laugh. Laughing is very much of the good at the moment.

If you say 'repressed much?' one more time I am so going to get myself another subconscious.


I don't know whether it's the beer, the sex talk, the sport talk or the way fucking Xander keeps looking at me, but I'm getting horny. I'm wondering if we're both drunk enough to watch some porn. Maybe I should just send him home so I can have a wank and sleep it off.


Spike shifts a bit and I suddenly notice that he's got a hard on. Ok, so I've been a bit on the erect side myself, but I put it down to talking about sex. I am a twenty-year old guy, still not completely master of my domain yet. But, wow, Spike has a hard on. And I suddenly realise I'm staring at it. And oh fuck. I look up and he's looking at me. He was looking at me looking at his hard on.

He looks down at my crotch.

"Want to watch some porn?" he asks.


He was checking me out. I swear the whelp was staring at my hard on. That does it. I shuffle through the box of videotapes on the floor and drag out an oldie but a goodie.

Perfectly decent, hot lesbian S&M action. Nice. I shift over on the couch and make room for Harris.


I sit next to Spike, well as far from Spike as possible while still sitting on the couch. He fast forwards through the piracy warning and the usual bad soundtrack starts up.

Ok. This is good. Very manly kind of thing to do. We will sit and drink our beer and ogle girls. I hope this is girl porn.

"This has got girls in it right?" I ask, panicked.

Spike smirks. "No, it's got sheep. What do you think? Of course it's got girls."


So we're watching a fine looking young thing, blonde, bit like the Slayer, wearing a strap on and spanking this brunette chick. And I'm feeling, a little, you know, aroused. All bloody right, very bloody aroused, if you must know. Pervert. And it has nothing to do with the fact that Xander Harris is sitting right next to me and I can smell how fucking aroused he is, despite my current state of inebriation. I shift a bit, trying to get comfortable, relieve the tightness of my jeans on my hard on. Finally I look at Harris.


"Yeah?" he says, sort of strangled.

"Don't get all weird on me, right. I'm just gonna undo my pants a bit."

Xander nods dumbly. "Yeah, right, sure. I uh. Yeah, right with you pal, might just undo mine a bit too."

I smirk at this. The kids got more balls than I thought.

I undo my pants. Trouble is, I'm not wearing any underwear and well, it's a bit hard to keep things in place, if you know what I mean.


I know I turn bright red though, I can feel my cheeks and ears burning. I focus on the girl on girl action on the television. Which does NOT help. My own erection is straining at my briefs. Yeah, I'm a briefs man. Except when I'm a boxers man. I'm versatile. Tonight, I'm very grateful that I chose to wear briefs. I wriggle about a bit, trying not to look at Spike, trying to look at the tv, trying not to feel too horny.


I try to stuff my cock back into my pants. Harris saw it. Fuck. I'd be embarrassed, but you know, I'm me. And, I couldn't help but notice, he looked impressed. I glance over at him. He's wearing briefs but that polyester cotton is getting pretty strained.

Touching my cock to stuff it back in my pants didn't help matters. I glance at Harris again. I wonder how much shit I'd get if I had a wank? Its not like he'd tell the other Scoobies... but you know, for some reason I don't want to scare him away or freak him out... it was sort of cool having a bloke around to drink with and talk to. I restrain my baser impulses for a bit longer.


I risk another glance in the general direction of Spike. He's got it back in his pants, barely. The guy is wriggling about like his ass is on fire or something. Maybe I should go. Let him, you know, relieve the tension. I'm actually surprised he's not already - I thought, vampire, you know, no shame. I'm sort of wishing for a bathroom or my bed right now, or a warm soft Anya. I should go. Mrs Palmer and her five daughters are waiting for me. Then Spike looks up and catches me looking at him. He holds my gaze and sort of pulls his bottom lip into his mouth for a second and then lets it go. And then he reaches into his pants.


Oh fuck it. Bad idea, Spike, very bad. But fuck it. So the whelp leaves, so fucking what, everyone does anyway, in the end. Like he's going to be good buddy pals with you tomorrow anyway, I tell myself. Myself agrees. Oh that feels good. Oh yeah. I fix my eyes on the porn, not daring to look at Xander. Don't really need to see disgust, sort of puts you off.


I can't believe he's actually... I stare at him transfixed. Spike is actually going to jerk off in front of me. Ok we're both very drunk, we're watching porn, its late, we're both guys, I rationalise. This is not gay. Yeah I know. Just shut up.

Then as I watch the porn, and glance at Spike and my cock feels like its going to burst, I decide, hey what the fuck, when on a Hellmouth, and ease my own straining erection out of my pants. Which is nothing to be ashamed about in size compared to Spike either, I might add. Oh, now that feels good.


I smell and hear Xander start to masturbate rather than see him. And I know I sound like the poof, but it's more erotic than what I'm watching on tv. I can't help it, I moan.


I hear Spike moan and oh, I feel like I'm gonna cum any minute now. I stare blankly at the hot lesbian fun on the tv, straining my ears to hear Spike, sneaking glances in his direction. Then suddenly I feel a hand on my thigh. Ok, I jump, I admit it. This is too surreal. Spike's got his left hand on my thigh and we're both jerking off to porn. Luckily I'm drunk. Spike's hand freezes for a moment, then as I relax and continue to stroke my cock, he starts rubbing his hand up and down my leg. It feels so good. Is it gay if it turns me on?


Oh pet, yes, that's nice. I know its too much to want Xander to touch me but knowing that he's letting me touch him while he runs his hand over that bloody nice dick fills me full of lust. I suddenly want to kiss him. Ok, not suddenly, I realise I've been wanting to do it for a while. I want to feel those lips. Kiss that smart mouth. Stick my tongue inside. Make him breathless.

And then he touches my thigh. Tentatively and oh that in itself sends a wave of pleasure straight to my groin. I have a sudden image of him fumbling at me as we make love. Oh yes! I increase my pace, I'm going to cum, but I don't want to end this, not yet. Once we get the pop shot, its all over folks, whelp goes home, I clean up. The end. Lonely nights ahead.

Then he squeezes my thigh. And I look up and look at him and he's looking at me, and I do a very foolish stupid thing. I lean over and suck his dick.


Ohmyfuckinghellgnnngrhhhh. Fuck.

"Spike?" I gasp as he leans over and on my downward stroke follows my hand with his mouth all the way down my cock, right to the balls. Oh, fuck. Oh yes. Oh yes. Oh, have I mentioned, yes? I grip the couch with one hand and bunch up Spike's shirt with the other.


"Shh pet," I breathe on an upward stroke and then I take him in my mouth again, my own dick forgotten, well not forgotten, more neglected. But I don't mind. This is heaven. He hasn't pushed me off him. He's not struggling. He's liking it.


I think my eyes are crossed. I buck against Spike. Where in fuck did he learn to do that?

"ohyesohfuckohspikeohyes," I babble, gripping his shirt and the couch tighter. "I'm gonna cum."

"Yeah, pet, cum for me, cum for me," he murmurs, how the fuck he does I don't know cause he doesn't take his mouth and tongue away from my dick for a moment.

And then I cum. I cum and cum and cum. Into Spike's mouth. Oh my god, I just came in a guy's mouth. Oh shit, crap. Hey Mom, guess what I'm gay or at least bisexual.

And then he's sitting up next to me, a stupid look on his face, licking his lips, wiping the corner of his mouth with his hand, trying to smirk and look cool and failing because his eyes... and then I drag him to me and kiss him. I taste myself on his lips and on his tongue, cause, oh yeah, my tongue's down his throat. And his is down mine.

And, since, you know, it's only fair, I grab hold of his penis and start stroking it.

Spike lets out a little moan and presses into me as he continues to kiss me very hard.


Ohxanderyesss. I grind into him, into his hand. One of my arms is wrapped around him, holding him to me tight, the other hand holds his head, pressing him against me as my tongue runs over his, savouring his taste. I'm almost desperate for it. Except, you know, its me. I'm never desperate. But ohfuckinghell I want him. His hand is so warm and he does this so well. I almost chuckle. Wanker. But I don't because bloody hell this is so fucking nice. And then, he reaches down with his other hand and cups my balls. I feel his penis hard against my leg. Already. And that does it. I'm cumming. Cumming all over the both of us as we press into each other, his cock pressed hard against me, both of us grinding into each other.


Spike cums and after a moment I pull back, letting go of his sticky member with my sticky hand. Ok, there's just general stickiness everywhere, and it's not entirely his fault. He lets me pull back but he's still got his hand at the back of my neck and his other hand comes round and runs gently over my shirt front. He's looking at me... softly? Almost... fuck, tenderly?

I reach up and run my non-sticky hand down his cheekbone. Spike shudders and shuts his eyes briefly. When he opens them he's all, well, normal.


I shut my eyes as Xander touches my face. Oh fuck no. I don't want to feel like this. Not about Xander Harris. Bloody stupid. Such a bloody stupid thing to do. Right fine, was just a bit of fun. All right kiddies, move along, nothing to see here.

I open my eyes. Give him a friendly grin and then get up. I find a towel and throw it at Xander. I don't look at him. Not looking at him. I pull off my cum soaked shirt and bunch it up, wipe my stomach where it's a bit sticky and throw the dirty shirt in the corner.


I clean myself up as best I can with the towel Spike throws at me, but I'm still covered in cum. Spike's cum. He's not looking at me. I watch him pull off his shirt and throw it in the corner. Man he's buff. I am not thinking about licking that chest. Or back. I figure I'd better go before he decides to start making sarcastic comments. I don't think I could handle that at the moment. It was probably all he could do to give me a friendly grin. Thanks for the hand job mate. No problem Spike, old chum, thanks for blowing me.

He moves across the crypt and rummages around in a trunk or something, then he's back. Still not looking at me.

"Here, " he says and throws a t-shirt at me.

"Thanks," I manage. I stand up and pull my sticky shirt off and pull on Spike's black t-shirt. How many of these does he own? It's a bit tight, but at least its clean, and at least I don't smell so much like I just had a vampire come on me. I zip up my pants. I'm feeling a lot more sober now. I suddenly realise the porn is still playing on the tv and the girls are still going at it.

"Guess I should get going," I say, wanting to say more. Wanting him to look at me like he did, just before.


He's going.

"Yeah," I reply. I don't want to look at him. If I look at him, I'll want to kiss him. Or he'll see how I feel and then it'll be time to humiliate Spike. Can't have that. Am the Big Bad after all. I don't feel, like this, about stupid human boys. I sense him stiffen a bit, and I realise that maybe I sounded a bit cold. I resist the urge to pull him to me, say, thanks pet, so much for that, and snog him a bit, but he'd probably think I'm some sort of poofter or laugh. So I turn, nod briefly, say "Uh, thanks, you know, had a good time," or something pathetic like that. All blokey.

"Yeah, same," he says and sounds equally gruff and manly. "See you round," he says and starts for the door.

"Yeah," I say.

And then the crypt door shuts.


I lean against the crypt door, my heart pounding. Ok, major wiggins. I'm never going to live this down. He's going to use it against me forever. I let Spike blow me. I mean, that's not weird for him, he's a vampire. That's what they do, not necessarily blow guys, but you know, have ambiguous sex lives. I gave Spike a hand job. I can just see the mileage he's going to get out of that.

I sigh. At this point in time I am too tired and have had too much beer to care. I straighten up and slouch off home. I'll have a girly panic attack tomorrow.


I hear him pause outside the door. Just fucking go, I yell mentally. I switch off the damn video and flop onto the couch. I can smell him. Fuck. He'll probably make good use of this. I can't believe I was so stupid. So weak. Ahh fuck it.

I sigh and shut my eyes and try to go to sleep.


2: 'Ok, so it is like that. Sort of.'

I knock some balls around the pool table. Bronze is pretty dead and all the other pool tables are empty. I'm playing by myself. Seem to be doing a lot of that lately. I catch myself thinking about Harris again. Bloody hell, where's memory repression when you need it. Yeah it was - well it's been a while since I was with anyone, so it was nice, you know, to have someone else's hand for a change. But it wasn't like it was anything earth shattering. Not really. Nothing like a million of the times I'd had with Dru. Not like some of the times with Harmony either. Not like say, if I'd had my dick up his arse or something. Yet, here I am, bloody thinking about it. Again.

And, oh fuck, sunk the bloody Eight ball.


I am going to the Bronze to have a quiet beer, listen to the band and maybe chat up a hot chick. That is why I am going. I am not going just in case Spike is there. Spike being there would NOT be a cause of my going. No way. Nadah. In fact. I think it would be safe to say that if I knew Spike was going to be there, I'd run away like the girly man I suspect I'm becoming. Because, oh fuck, Spike? Thinking about that thing we did that we shouldn't have done, way too much. I blame it on not enough sex. So I aim to get some. Tonight. With a girl. Hopefully. Or at least find one to fantasise about.


Haven't seen the Whelp since the other night. Probably freaked him out. Well no surprise there. Haven't gone out of my way to see him though either. Don't need all that awkward "I did something I regret with you and now it's all weird and you disgust me" crap. Not that I went seeking his company before mind. Just haven't dropped by the Magic Box or to any Scooby meetings lately. I'm sure they'll come running to kick down my crypt door soon as any of them need my help.

I take a sip of my beer then rack up another game.


The band is pretty good. I weave my way through the crowd. I hate coming here alone. Will and Tara are off doing spells and I am girlfriendless, so I'm the gay ole bachelor tonight. I mean joyful bachelor. Bachelor having a happy, joy-filled time.

Why is Spike laughing at me in my head?

It's not like I've been wondering about him or anything. But he has been a bit scarce lately. I haven't seen him since that night. Which is good. Really good.

I really miss Anya. She's the one person I think I could talk to about this. I mean, so not wanting to dwell on the whole mano-a-mano action between me and Spike... but thinking about it too much. Need to talk?

Fuck if I still had Anya, none of this would've happened in the first place. No male bonding session, no porn viewing, no masturbation and definitely no having bleached blonde vampires going down on me.

And oh crap, think of the devil. There he is, playing pool.


I look up and there he is. Xander bloody Harris. Starring right at me. Bugger. Yeah, well don't act too keen and eager to see him. I quirk my eyebrow, as if to say. Oh. You.

He's got that confused look on his face. Like he's having inner turmoil. Well at least he doesn't look disgusted. Maybe he's going to go for the deny everything, nothing happened, we were drunk story. Fine by me.


Oh crap, he saw me. Saw me seeing him, so I can't pretend I didn't see him. And oh look, he does the eyebrow thing. That is so fucking cool. Yet rude. A friendly wave might've been nice. After all we've exchanged bodily fluids. And oh, so didn't need to think that. Ok, hey, I can go over and say hi. After all we were drunk. We were watching porn. Not like we had ACTUAL ACTUAL sex. I'll just pretend nothing happened.

Maybe I could talk to him about this. We're both grown-ups.

What am I thinking?


Xander comes over.

"Hey, not-so evil dead. How you going?" Super friendly like.

"Harris," I say and take a drag on my cigarette. "Out by yourself tonight?"

"As are you?" he says, looking around a bit, as if I'd have a whole gang of friends hiding behind a post somewhere. He seems nervous. I decide to make things easy on the kid, no wise cracks, no mentions of any penis-related pursuits. Just act as if nothing happened.

"Yeah. Good company," I say.

He nods and grins a bit and laughs a bit. Wish he'd stop being nervous. He's making it very hard to pretend nothing happened.

"Want to play pool?" I ask.


I grab a pool cue while Spike finishes off the game he's playing by himself and then sets up another one.

"You break," he says. "Gonna get a beer. Want one?"

I nod and say thanks. Ok, this is going well. Normal. As if we're friends. Which I guess we are, sort of. Something about nearly dying in an Apocalypse that'll bring people together. Yeah, Spike's changed since we first met the fang-happy killer we all loathed and hated. I don't trust him entirely, but these last few months, after Buffy died, have gone a long way towards fixing that. Plus he's got that handy little piece of government hardware in his head. Just as an insurance policy.

This is good. Just like old times. Two guys, playing pool. Having male related good times.

Not that kind of male related. I'm getting myself a new inner voice.


We play pool for a while and I'm sort of thinking that maybe I didn't fuck things up by blowing him the other night after all. It's just like old times. Not old old times. If it was like old old times I'd be ripping the whelp's throat out and rubbing my body with his blood. Now that's an appealing thought... Where was I? Oh yeah, old times, like the other month. Things have been pretty good between me and the Scoobies lately. Must be the whole comrades in arms thing. Maybe me nearly getting killed along side them made them finally believe I'd actually changed. Maybe its cause I stuck around, even after Buffy died, giving them a hand, helping keep an eye on Nibblet. Either way, they treat me pretty decent now, and I try not to be too rude to them.

Yeah, I've gone fucking soft. What of it?

I miss Buffy.


Spike goes quiet all of a sudden. Not that we've been talking much, but he's like got this faraway look on his face. Kinda... sad.

"Your turn," I say, to lighten the mood. "Pay attention fang-boy, I'm about to kick your ass."

He starts. "Huh? Oh yeah. Right Harris, and that'll be the day Satan starts making snow angels. Just remember the balls with a lot of white are mine. The balls with a little bit of white are yours."

Oh he is so going down.


I smirk at Harris and sink two balls at once. Yeah, I'm the Big Bad. Then I knock another three in one after the other. Finally I miss and give the whelp a turn. And get back to my brooding. Shut up, I am NOT like bloody Angel. This is manly, contemplative brooding. Not poof like bloody irritating brooding. 'Sides, girl I love just died four months ago. I'm allowed to get a bit introspective on occasion.

So just sod off.


I take my shot and sink a couple of balls. Not doing too badly if I do say so myself. Course I don't have the hours to dedicate to practice like a certain vampire, what with the having to earn a living and all.

I step back and wait for Spike to have his turn. He takes a long swig on his beer and just as he brings the bottle down I get a flashback of him, my cock, and his mouth doing something to it like what he just did to that beer bottle. You get the picture.

And, oh fuck, I'm blushing.


I glance at Harris just as I reach for my pool cue and the kid is bright red. He catches my eye and looks away. What was that about? I frown and take my shot. And miss.

"Your turn," I say and he avoids my eyes.

Bloody hell. Probably having a freak about... bloody hell... this was going all right too.


Crap, crap, crappity crap. Spike's looking at me weird. Ok, pull yourself together Xander. It was a mistake, something that happened, Spike is obviously going to let it go, so you can too.

Ok. Letting it go. Playing pool.


"Uh, Spike," he says and my gut sinks. I know where that tone of voice is going. I'm beginning to think it wasn't just an unhappy coincidence that we were both here tonight. Don't tell me the whelp wants to talk? Sooth his repressed homosexual fears.

"What?" I ask and take my shot. I don't look at him because he's going to avoid my eyes again and get that nervous embarrassed look again. And if I see that I'll start thinking about the other night. And I'm trying not to think about that, because I'm already lonely and pathetic enough.

"You know, uh, um- that er, like thing. That thing we uh did, the other night?"

I decide if this is going where I think its going, I'm not going to make it easy on him.

"What, drinking beer?" I ask.


Damn Spike. Ok, if he's going to be like that.

"Yeah, drinking beer, and the uh, game we played when we were drinking it. The one with the nudey video?"

Spike smirks at that.

"What of it?"

Ok, here goes. Grown ups. We can talk about this. Short of seeing a psychiatrist there's no one else I can actually bring myself to discuss this with. And the repress memory button in my brain doesn't seem to be working.

"Well, uh, I've, well I've just been thinking about it. A lot. And-" I take a sip of my beer. That might help. Spike is just standing there smirking, waiting for me to dig myself into a big hole. "Oh fuck, doesn't matter."


He's been thinking about it? Oh. Well, to be expected of course, having brought his perceived heterosexuality into question and all. Course he's thinking about it.

"No, go on Harris," I say. "And what?"

He goes red and into babble mode.

"Uh, And... and. Ok. And. And I was wondering if we could you know. Talk about it. I mean, it was just the uh, video wasn't it? I mean- Do you-"

I take my shot, so I don't have to look at him and he doesn't have to look at me.


I don't know what I'm asking really, or what I want Spike to say. Maybe that it was just the alcohol and the porn and that hey, it's something very straight guys do all the time. That it means nothing.

That he hasn't been thinking about it. That he doesn't want to do it again. Or do more. Do me.

He's not looking at me and suddenly its awkward. Me and my big mouth.


"What's to talk about?" I say. What's he want me to say? Yeah I've been thinking about it too. Want to go explore your sexuality a bit? That I had a dream last night where I was buried to hilt in his body and it was the most fucking erotic dream I've had since before I got the Buffy-Bot? Or, yeah, Xander, it was just the video, you are straight as a die. Somehow I think that one's more likely.

"Forget it," he says. And takes his shot.

"Good," I say.


"What's that supposed to mean?" I say. Oh shit. Why did I say that? Cause, forgetting it is a very good thing. Does he want to forget it? Of course he does. Crap. I open my mouth to back-peddle but Spike has pinned me with this hard stare.

"What do you want whelp?" he asks. "You want me to reassure you about your masculinity? Do you want to pretend it didn't happen or not?"

"Uh, pretend it didn't happen?" I choose. But for some reason I feel disappointed that Spike wants to forget it. Too, of course too. I so want to forget it.

I mean I thought it felt great, but doesn't mean I don't want to forget it. Just cause he wants to forget it doesn't mean it was bad for him. Ok, I know. I have a major insecurity problem.

"Fine, then shut the fuck up about it and take your shot."

I do. And I miss.


Bloody hell. Did he want me to tell him it was earth-shattering or something. That it was special. Bloody vomit. Cause it wasn't. Either of those two things. It was... not awful, yeah, nice even. Nothing to think about every fucking night since though.

I watch him take his shot and miss. And why the fuck I just imagined holding him down over that pool table and giving him one is beyond me. Yeah, forgetting would be just peachy.


Ok, so that totally killed the buddy-vibe we had going there. Spike stalks over to the table to take his shot. Time to think up something to break the tension. That's what I do after all, good old comic relief me.

I so have to get my mouth sewn shut, because what comes out next is neither comical nor relief-like.

"Do you want to forget about it?" I say and bite my tongue nearly in two.


I sigh. What the fuck does he want? I mean bloody hell, where is he going with this?

"Yes," I say. "Yes I want to forget it. Can we please just play pool now?" I shake my head. "Look, Xander. Don't worry about it. You're very heterosexual. No I didn't plan it from the beginning. Yes it was something that just happened. And unless you are seriously wanting to experiment a bit more then I suggest you just pass it off as something foolish done in a drunken moment."

Feeling irritated, I turn back to the pool table. Bloody hell I hope that's the end of it, because I don't need to keep getting these little reminders.


"Experiment a bit more?" I say, ok squeak. "Uh... do you? I mean... no. Not exactly. Yes. Can- I mean-" I remember a bit of the conversation from that night. About Spike asking if I was curious. If I wanted to try it. Saying it was fun with a virgin. He'd been joking, right? I mean just because I'm thinking about it doesn't mean I want to.

Yeah I'm in denial. But it's a safe place to be.

Spike turns from making his shot. The look on his face scares me and also sort of... well it's kinda intense and this flash of something goes right to my cock.

He strides over to me and stands so he's right up against me and... ohfuck... I can feel his groin pressing into my thigh. And he's got a hard on.

"Is this what you want Harris?" he demands in a low voice. "'Cause if it is then I suggest we continue this talk of yours outside."

Maybe if we you know, kiss or something, I'll get this sorted out in my head. Help me figure out whether it was just a thing or wow suddenly some whole new gay identity I need to work out.

I swallow hard and look at Spike. And he looks at me. I start down the stairs. I don't look back to see if he follows. I hear him. I know he does. It scares me.


We get outside and I slam Harris up against the wall of the alley. I'm pissed off. Pissed off because he's bringing this up and he's going to get freaked out and leave. Pissed off because I want this and I don't want to want this. Pissed off because the whelp's confused and I'm not sure what he wants. Pissed off because I'm the one going to freak him out and I can't help myself. And if I do this, I'm not I'm going to be able to stop feeling what I felt the last time. And he's going to see it. And life just gets fucking complicated then. I press him hard against the wall with my body. He's breathing heavily and his eyes are wide and I can smell fear. And oh? Lust. He looks bloody sexy.

So I kiss him.

So he wants to experiment hey?


Spike's mouth slams against mine and we're kissing. Not gentle kissing, this is violent, aggressive stuff and I'm half afraid, and half, all 'man this is hot'. He grinds his hard-on against me and presses up against mine. I have a hard on. I am kissing a vampire. A guy. And I have a hard on. Beginning to suspect its not just the lesbo-porn.

I moan. Ohfuckspikefuck.


He moans as I stick my tongue done his throat and grind against him. My hands still bunch the front of his shirt. And ohfuckingoh, one hand is in my hair, holding the back of my head while I violate that smart soft mouth of his. The other arm is wrapped around me, holding me clumsily against him. He's hard and all the images of the other night are flashing through my head.

I want him.


Spike pulls back and I let out an involuntary moan.

"Huh?" I ask, sort of dazed.

"Let's go back to my place," he says. His voice is a bit husky. And it sends a quiver through me. I must have watched too many Bond movies because that British accent equals sexy in my head.

"Uh, ok, yeah. Probably more appropriate, for the, uh, experimenting." My heart is beating too fast and my hands are sweating and I realise I'm nervous. Oh fucking crap. What am I getting into? I'm not even sure I want to do this. The kissing was... ok, great. Very much enjoyed the kissing. And the stuff we did when we were drunk, obviously, otherwise, hello, not even having this conversation. But doing anything else with a guy? With a guy who is Spike?

"Uh, Spike?" I say. He stops and turns. "I don't want to like lead you on or anything. I'm not exactly sure how far I want to go with this- "

"Don't. I get it," he says shortly. "Won't make you do anything you don't want to." Then he smirks and I feel a bit better. "Got this lovely government chip remember? Your virtue's perfectly safe with me love."

Spike is quiet as we walk to his crypt. He seems almost annoyed. I crack jokes nervously and am rewarded with an occasional sarcastic remark. I'm not sure I can do this if Spike is going to be all intense. It was easier when we were being all buddy like.


We get back to my crypt. I turn the tele on for light, then push Xander up against the back of the couch. I restrained myself all the way home from touching him, but I'm not going to now. This is what he wants. If he gets freaked out it's not my bloody fault. I kiss him running my tongue against his, pressing myself against him. He responds. Yeah Xander, like that. Seems to like it. His hard-on's a bit of a give-away.


We've got our tongues down each other's throats and our hands are very gropey. I gotta say, it feels, well great. Great but weird. I wonder if I seem this possessive when I'm feeling up a girl? I wonder if I feel this possessive to Spike? His hands claim me almost. If that makes sense. I know I'm making little whimpering moany sounds. But so is he so it's ok. He really seems to want this. But I guess it's the whole vampire thing, no sexuality issues to work out and I'm offering him a screw. And there was no awkward, hey we're here now what'll we do. Spike got straight to it.

Ohhhfuckspike. His hands have started investigating my groinal area and he cups me through my jeans. And then, ohyes, he unzips my jeans and the idea itself makes me harder.

Ohyesohfuck. I'm fucking glad I decided to wear boxers tonight.


Xander is hard and warm in my hand. I press into him with my body as I start stroking him with my hand. I reach back up to his mouth for another snog, holding the back of his neck with my free hand. He feels so warm, heat pours off him. He's making these whimpering sounds that I hope are good. They sound nice.

Oh yes pet, do that. He unbuttons my jeans and frees my cock as well.

So there we are, tossing each other off. I'd think it's safe to say we're past the mortal enemies stage.

I pull back panting and look at Xander. And bloody hell if he doesn't make me want to cry. Those eyes, those kicked puppy dog eyes. Wanting. Wanting. Fuck him. Fuck him for this. I don't bloody need this.


Spike draws back and for a minute I see that look in his eyes, the one I keep thinking about, the tender one. Then it's gone and he's all lust and heat and a little bit... aloof? He fondles my balls with one hand and strokes me with the other. Not kissing me, watching me. He's making me so hard, his cool hands on my cock. It's hard to concentrate on the rhythm I'm trying to maintain on him.

"Time for that experiment then Harris?" he says.

I swallow hard. "Uh, yeah, you mean this isn't it?"

"Done this already," he says.

He lets go of my bits and grabs my wrist to stop my pumping. He tosses me a tube of lube he fishes out from behind a cushion on the couch. My mouth suddenly goes dry and I feel half-nervous half-excited. Ok, next phase. I feel like I've gone this far I might as well keep going.


Boy wants to experiment. Fine. I'll be his fucking guinea pig. I drop my trousers and brace myself against the back of the couch.

"All right then, away you go," I say, without looking at Xander.

There's silence and I look over my shoulder. He's just sort of standing there like a great idiot with the lube in his hand. And oh for fuck's sake his hard-on has all but disappeared.

"What's wrong?" I know, all right? I fucking know. I can make a point if I fucking want.

"Uh... just like that? It's just so... cold-blooded. Couldn't we like make out or something?"

"What are you, a teenager?" I sneer. I can't help it. I'm pissed off. He can't have that emotional crap. I won't let him. If he wants soft and romantic he can fucking get himself a gay boyfriend. Not me. I'm doing this for sex.

"You... you want me to... do you?"

I roll my eyes.

"Yes, I thought that was obvious. Thought this was the least extreme of the next step up. Course I can always finger fuck you if you want. Can always fuck you senseless with my cock up your arse."

I see the whelp's cock harden but he frowns then tucks himself away and starts doing up his pants. I feel like shit but I'm still pissed off.

"You know, I think this was a bad idea. I'd better go."

Good one pillock.


I so need to leave now. Spike's matter of fact approach wigged me out. It's just... no. I can't do it like that. Not, just like that. And he seemed so, pissed off. He was fine then suddenly he's all cold. And he sneered. I don't know if I've mentioned this, but disdain's one of my major turn offs. I get the feeling he doesn't really want this. I do up my pants and I'm about to leave when Spike grabs me and kisses me.

"Xander, we'll take it slow, all right?" he murmurs against my lips. He's kissing me and his hand is undoing my pants again and he's got no pants on at all. And he's so hard. And oh crap, I murmur an ok.

We move back against the couch and Spike is still kissing me and jerking me off with his cool hand. He grinds into me and we kiss like that for a while. I start feeling that want again. That feeling that made me let him blow me. That feeling that's been keeping me up at night ever since. He pulls away from my lips for a moment.

"I'm gonna turn around now. I want you to lube up your fingers, the slowly insert them. One at a time. Prob'ly two will do the trick. Get me ready right?"

I nod numbly. Still having the wiggins but Spike's tone is so different. Plus the idea sends more warmth to my cock.

Spike turns around and braces himself against the couch again, spreading his legs so his ass cheeks are parted a bit. I take a deep breath then open the lube.


Oh yeah, that's good. The whelp's hesitant at first but now he's got his finger all the way in and he's moving it... ohfuckyes.

"Oh Xander, yes, that's it, that's the spot." Got to let him know which is the right bit don't I? Ohfuckingyesohfuck that's it. I feel him ease the second finger in and then he moves them both in and out a bit. It feels fucking great. Haven't done this in quite a while.

Ohfuck yes pet, that's it, good boy Harris. He grabs my cock with his left hand and begins to stroke it steadily and move his fingers in and out in rhythm. I start to rock against him. I can't help but moan.


I've got my fingers up Spike's ass. I try not to think about that or I'll get freaked. But I must be doing it right because he's actually whimpering. I made the Big Bad whimper. I hope I'm not hurting him.

"Is this ok?" I ask. And my voice is not as firm as it should be.

"Yes pet, yeah, very ok. Fucking yeah. You gonna fuck me Harris?"

I gulp. Yeah guess I am. I'm going to fuck him. I pull my fingers out and put lube on my dick. I am really hard, but that's no surprise because my brain has one thought. I'm going to fuck him. I toe off my shoes and kick off my trousers. Then move back between Spike's legs.

I position myself and then thrust and ohfuckinghellyes.

"Oh fuck Spike!" I moan.

"Yeah pet, yeah," he says and pushes back against me. I cling onto his back, my left hand loose around his cock. I'm almost seeing stars. He's so tight, it's so cold and hot all at once. And I'm sheathed in Spike. He pulls forward then pushes back against me, fucking into my hand and fucking back on me. I pull out a bit then push forward gently. Oh that feels so damn good!

"You won't hurt me mate," Spike grunts. He calls me mate, like we're playing pool or something, but for some reason it makes me feel more comfortable. I pick up his rhythm and then we are moving, thrusting against each other. Pumping and grrnnghhhhnohdearlordohfuck that feels so nice. So hot. So... ohyes.

"Spike!" I cry out.

"Yeah, give it me Xander. Give it me," he grunts as I slam into him. "Oh fuck yes Xander!"

I hold his cock firmly and he fucks into my hand with each of my thrusts. I lean onto his back and hold his hip with my other hand, holding him tight against me.


I think I'm going cross-eyed. Not much is registering except Xander Harris pounding that cock of his into my arse. Hitting my prostate. Again and fucking again. Holding my dick as I fuck his hand.

Unintelligible words come out of my mouth. I want this so much. It occurs that maybe I should just have given it to the boy. But I would've had to be gentle, would've had to soothed and coaxed and I don't think I could've handled that. Not that. Not sweetness. I want this. This fucking. A good hard shag.

Oh yes, fucking yes. And I'm going to cum.


"I'm cumming," I pant. "Oh fuck I'm cumming Spike!"

"Yeah cum pet, cum," he pants between moans and whimpers and grunts. Then. "Oh yes Xander, oh give it to me love. Fuck me. I'm gonna... I'm gonna cum!" And he does and I feel his muscles clench around me as he bucks against me and my hand.

"Yeah Spike, yeah, ohfuckSpike!" I cry out and I do cum and cum in his ass.


I sink down on the back on the lounge. Xander is bloody heavy against me. But it feels good. It feels so good to have someone screaming your name like that. He withdraws and staggers around to sit down on the couch. Cum is running down my legs. I shakily walk over to where I have a towel then after wiping myself collapse on the couch next to Harris. I'm a little worried he's going to go all homophobic on me now and do a runner.

I look over at him. He looks utterly shagged. And sated. And like he's not going anywhere for a while. I grin at him and raise an eyebrow.

"So, what'dya think then?" I ask. "How'd you like sodomising me?"

Xander groans/laughs. "Don't put it like that, please Spike," he says. He looks at me and grins. "Great..." He shakes his head in astonishment. "Man, that was great."

I smirk. Then look at my fingernails. "Yeah well, what can I say, I've got a great ass."

Xander laughs and we look at each other for a moment too long and the mood changes. I look away. Can't do that. Not with the kid. He's just experimenting. Don't make it messy. Have fun, that's it.


"So uh, yeah. Pretty amazing," I start to babble as Spike's expression changes. I figure I should probably go. Not like we're going to engage in any post-coital bliss. It is Spike we're talking about. Not exactly Mr Romantic I'm assuming. Then Spike changes the channel on the tv. A French film is on. Or at least I think its French. There's subtitles and I thought I heard a parlez vous.

"Want to have a beer?" he asks. And I agree. Not because I really do, but because I don't want to go, not just yet. Not after that. I wonder if I should kiss Spike. I kinda wish we were holding each other. Leftover habit from Anya sex I suppose. Anya always insisted on being spooned afterwards. Held. I can't really imagine holding Spike like that, but then a week or so ago I couldn't have imagined doing this either. I'm not as freaked out as I thought I'd be. Must be the post-orgasmic high.

Spike comes back and hands me a beer and sinks down next to me on the couch.

"Good thing about late night foreign flicks," says Spike. "Safe bet there's going to be nudity."

"Ah culture," I say and Spike smirks at me. I feel kinda pleased that I can amuse him.

I guess watching tv and drinking beer comfortably together is going to be as post-coital as we're going to get.


Harris is watching me. I probably should kiss the whelp. Get all snuggly with him. Don't want him to feel all used or what have you. He seems ok though. Sod it. It will only lead to angst and sickeningly meaningful looks. I take a swig of beer. This is comfortable. This is safe. Things seem ok between us.

Bit of a sight we'd make if anyone walked in on us, sitting here, flaccid dicks, no pants on, still in our t-shirts watching a foreign film and drinking beer.

I chuckle. And nicely shagged.

This is the life.


I'd better go. We've both had at least two beers. The french film is almost a quarter of the way through and there's only been naked breasts once.

"Suppose I'd better go on home," I say and stand up reluctantly. It was comfortable.

"Yeah," says Spike and his expression is unreadable.

I find my trousers and pull them and my shoes on.

Spike stands too and pulls his jeans on.

"Yeah well," he begins.

Should we kiss? I put a hand tentatively on his forearm. Subtle, a manly gesture yet it could lead into a kiss if, you know, he wants.


I feel I ought to... well should snog him or something I spose. I mean we have just fucked, wouldn't be too soft to give him a hard quick kiss on the mouth. Just a thanks for the shag kiss.


Spike claps his hand over the one I've got on his upper arm, sort of a buddy kind of response to my touching his arm. Guess that's all its going to be. Then suddenly he pulls me to him and kisses me hard and firm on the mouth. For a moment our tongues tease against each other and I start getting hard again. He pulls back and rests his head against my forehead, his hand at the back of my neck.

"Thanks for the shag," he murmurs.

"Thanks for letting me stick my dick up your ass," I reply.

He smirks which is what I'm aiming for. He lets me go and moves away.

"Remember it's your turn next time."

The thought sends a nervous tingle of excitement through me.

I laugh, but it comes out strangled. "Yeah. Next time." Then I add humour. "I'll hold you to that," I say. And I think I might mean it. If I ever decide to do this again. Which I don't know. I might. I suddenly want to get away from Spike so I can think clearly.


"I'll see you then," he says. And the look in his eyes tells me he's starting to freak out about this. I can just see another talk around the pool table coming on.

"Yeah, see you," I reply. And he goes. And I'm finally left alone with my thoughts.

Which is a very bad thing.


Continues here.