Author: Flurblewig
Pairing: Spike/Xander
Rating/Warnings: R for sexual content
Timeline/Spoilers: BtVS S5, post The Replacement
Length: 2,698 words
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I just like to take them out and play with them sometimes.
A/N: Thanks & hugs to desoto_hia873 for the beta!
Feedback: Yes please! Email me or leave an LJ comment at the end of the fic
Xander surveyed the apartment with a sense of both satisfaction and pride - and slight disbelief. It was clean, airy, nicely decorated - and, most amazingly of all - his.
He reached out to straighten the little pink urn that sat on top of the bookcase. He wasn't big on ornaments, especially pink ones, but Anya had taken a fancy to it - and if Anya liked it, then here it stayed.
His fingers missed their grip, and the urn dropped to the floor with a crash.
"Oops," he said, bending down over the pieces.
Suddenly there was a loud crack and an impressive flash of light, knocking him back onto his ass. He blinked, his eyes stinging, and yelped as he found a hairy, horned face staring into his.
It yawned hugely, showing rows of tiny sharp teeth. Xander scooted backwards until his back hit the wall.
"Hey, thanks, fella!" the creature said, stretching thin, gnarled-looking limbs. "Wow, it feels like I've been stuck in there for eons." It stopped, and looked around. "Hmm. Actually, I probably have. Well, that'll teach me to go looking for cookies, won't it?"
Xander stared at it with wide eyes.
"Oh, I'm sorry! Where are my manners? I'm Sukhai."
Xander stammered something he hoped sounded like his name, as Sukhai reached out and enthusiastically shook his hand. Then it coughed, took a step backwards, and made a low, formal bow.
"Greetings, Zazandrrr. I am Sukhai of the Kellenisha, and I offer you my boundless gratitude for my release from bondage. My gratitude, and a reward."
Xander blinked. "A - a what? A reward? Oh, no, really. You don't have to do that. It was, uh, my pleasure. Honestly, it's fine. You can just, uh, go on home now. No reward necessary."
Sukhai shook its shaggy head. "No way! You've got to have a reward, dude. That's how these things work. Look, how about three wishes? That's nice and traditional."
Xander shook his head frantically, raising his hands in a warding-off gesture. "Nuh-uh, no way. I know where that goes, mister, and it's a one-way trip to Monkey's Pawville. Thanks, and all that, but no thanks."
Sukhai gave him a disappointed look. "You're not refusing my hospitality, are you? 'Cos that would be, you know, kinda rude. We're not big on rudeness where I come from."
It finished with a smile, showing those teeth again. Xander swallowed.
"Well, uh - "
"You don't really want to be rude to me, do you?"
"No! No, I - "
"Okay, so we compromise. Just the one wish, and you don't even have to make it. I grant you -" It paused, then shrugged. "Whatever it is that you want. There! That wasn't so hard, was it? You have a nice day, now."
"Hey, look -" said Xander, but the demon was already gone.
"Shit," he said, jumping to his feet and beginning to pace. "I have no wants," he said aloud to the empty apartment, just to be on the safe side. "I am perfectly content. I am wantless. Xander the want-for-nothing, that's me."
He stopped pacing. Victim of unwanted demon magic? Who you gonna call?
He ran for the phone, and dialled Buffy's number. When she answered, he cut her off in mid-hello. "Buffy. I've been cursed."
"Xander? You've been what?"
"Cursed. By a demon. It was in the urn, that one Anya picked up from the junk shop, and I smashed it, and it was all 'oh I have to reward you' and I said no, but it- "
"Xander, whoa. Calm down. Look, do you want me to - "
"No!" he yelled. "I don't want you to do anything! I mean, that's not to say that I want you to suddenly become catatonic, or anything, because I definitely don't want that. In fact, I think what I want is for us to just not use the W word at all."
"The what word?"
"W - a - n - t," he spelled. "That's the curse. I get whatever I want."
"Huh. Well, that doesn't sound so bad."
"Buffy? Have you even read the Monkey's Paw?"
"The - oh. Oh, right. I see what you mean. Okay, let me get hold of Willow, see if she can find a way to break this curse."
"Right. Oh, hey - that's what I want. I want the curse to be broken."
He paused, waiting. For what, he wasn't quite sure. "Uh, Buff? Do you think that's done it?"
"I suppose it might have. I don't think I'd count on it, though. In the stories, if you get given three wishes, you can't just wish for more wishes. It doesn't work like that. Or, if it did, it'd probably be because you got stuck in a time loop and just kept repeating the bit where you get given the wishes, over and over again, but then don't actually get time to do anything with them. Like Groundhog Day but without the fun parts. Which is pretty scary, if you think about it."
Xander shivered. "Demons are sneaky."
"Welcome to my world. Okay, look, I'm going to find Willow. Just sit there and try not to want anything."
Xander hung up, and made his way to the sofa. He sat down, placed his hands on his knees and spent a while trying to think contented thoughts.
I am fully satisfied. I want for nothing. I have no unfulfilled desires.
Well, that wasn't entirely true, of course, but -
He froze, eyes widening. "No!" he said out loud. "I mean, yes! It is true. I have absolutely no unfulfilled -"
The sound of the knocking made him shriek. He stared at the door, his heart drumming a panicky beat in his throat. He stood up, sat down, then stood up again. "Buffy?" he called. "Will?"
"Harris?" "It's me. Let me in, for fuck's sake!"
The door shook in its frame as Spike pounded on it. Xander hesitated, then ran to the door. It sounded like Spike was about to get eaten, and while that wouldn't necessarily be such a bad thing, he didn't want his apartment door to be dessert. He'd broken enough things lately.
He opened the door to Spike's anguished face, pressing on the invisible barrier. "Oh, right," he said after a second. "Uh, come in. I guess."
A half-hearted invitation was obviously good enough, for Spike immediately fell into the room. He righted himself, then stared around wildly. "Okay," he said, "I'm here. Where is it? What's going on?"
Xander stared at him. "Huh? What? Huh?"
Spike was still prowling round the room, checking in corners. "The, the - " He stopped, looking confused. "The thing. You called and said there was - you said I had to get over here and uh - no, hang on, that's not right. Anya called and said you needed help with -" He stopped again, and shook his head. "No, that's not right either."
He swung around, and stared at Xander. "What the fuck am I doing here?"
Xander gave the eyeball right back. "I think you'll find that was my question."
"Actually I think your question was 'huh?'"
Xander folded his arms. "Exactly. Why waste words when a good interrogative grunt does the job in half the time?"
Spike seemed to consider this. "Because it makes you sound even more gormless than usual?"
"Hey! I resent that. I don't actually know what gorms are, but I'm sure I have a fully adequate supply of them, thank you very much."
Spike snorted. "Yeah, okay, if you say so."
"I do. And can we get off the subject of my gorms and back to the rather more pressing question of exactly why you came running into my apartment uninvited like all the hounds of hell were on your tail?"
"Not exactly uninvited, was it? I seem to remember the words 'come in' passing those pouty lips not that long ago."
"Yes, well, that was when I thought you were about to become hellhound doggy chow. And did you just insult me?" A hand tried to wander to his lips, but he forced it back down again.
"Oh, take it easy. Wasn't insulting you. Pouty lips aren't a bad thing to have. Just means they're kind of - you know -" Spike shrugged. "Biteable."
Xander backed up a step, his feet apparently making the connection between the words 'vampire' and 'biteable' a bit quicker than his brain, and making their own decisions about appropriate action.
His brain then woke up, reminded him about his Initiative-sponsored non-biteable status, and forced his body forward again. The brain wanted some answers, and it wanted them now. Why was Spike here, why was he even noticing Xander's lips at all and why, exactly, was he now sprawling on the sofa like he was settling in for the night?
"Uh, Spike?"
"You got any beer, then?"
"I'm just - huh?"
"There you go again. Those gorms are disappearing by the second. Beer, mate. Have you got any? Or JD? Scotch? Tequila, even. Come on, you must have something."
"Why - why - "
Spike stretched out comfortably, crossing his legs and folding his arms behind his head. He raised an eyebrow at Xander. "Why? You want me to talk you through the pleasures of alcohol?"
"No. To everything."
The eyebrow raised higher. "To everything? Oh, you don't want to be that hasty, pet. You haven't even heard what other pleasures I might be offering to talk you through."
At that point Xander's brain decided it was quite disturbed enough to concede the point to his feet and back up again.
"Spike, what is this?"
"What?"
"This! This with the lounging and the lips and the pleasures and the why are you taking your shirt off?"
"Hmm? Just getting comfortable."
"Well don't! That's my sofa! There will be no getting comfortable on my sofa."
"No sofa. Okay. You got it."
Xander watched with a glowing kind of relief as Spike slowly got up, only to have it drain away as he saw the vampire head into the bedroom instead.
"Spike!" he said, or tried to. It came out as a kind of strangled squeak in a register that surely only bats could have heard.
"What?"
"What are you doing?"
"You said you didn't want to use the sofa. So I'm using the bed."
"But - but - that is not what I meant!"
"God, there's no pleasing you, is there?"
"No! No, there is no pleasing me! You, especially, will not be pleasing me."
"Oh, come on. You know it's what you want."
Xander froze. What you want -
Oh god. Oh god, no. No.
He took a deep breath and walked into the bedroom. He had enough time to register the jeans slung on the floor and then he closed his eyes. Very, very firmly.
"Spike. Listen to me. There's been - an accident. The magical kind of accident. You're not yourself."
"Oh, I don't think I'd say that. I feel like myself."
Spike's words were followed by a strange series of sounds. Soft, rather fleshy sounds. Which in turn were followed by soft sighing sounds. Xander swallowed hard and clamped his hands over his eyes for added insurance.
"Spike! Stop feeling! Stop feeling this instant. Look - do you remember when Willow's 'my will be done' thing got out of hand and you ended up engaged to Buffy?"
Spike gave a deep, suggestive chuckle that did not, definitely did not, start to create an odd sensation of heat in Xander's stomach. "Yeah, I remember."
"Yes, well, this is kinda like that. It's just as unreal, do you understand? Just as crazy."
"Okay, sure. 'Cos it was such a wild and crazy idea to think I might be interested in Buffy."
"Uh - all right, maybe that wasn't such a good analogy. But the important thing is, is - " He stopped. The important thing, really, was that he didn't get to know about whatever it was that Spike was doing in his bed. The problem was, he might not be able to see but he could still hear - could hear the slippery, sliding noises and low, throaty noises and oh god he had to do something. He clamped his hands over his ears instead, but then his eyes flew open of their own accord and everything went to hell.
He froze. "The important thing - the important thing - "
Spike. Naked Spike. Very, very, naked Spike. In his bed. Writhing.
"The. Uh. Important -"
Writhing slowly, sinuously, while his hand enthusiastically worked his swollen cock.
Xander swallowed, his throat suddenly as dry as sandpaper. The important thing, the really important thing, was that he was horrified by this. Horrified and disturbed. And disgusted! Yes, it was very, very important for him to remember that the sight of Spike jerking off in his bed made him feel extremely disgusted.
Unfortunately, he seemed to be having some short-term memory problems, because rather than shrivelling in suitable revulsion, his cock was slowly hardening in his jeans. He screwed his eyes shut and shook his head, but when he opened them again Spike was still naked, still in his bed, and he still had a painful, persistent erection.
Spike arched his back as the movement of his hand got faster. "So this is a spell, you say? Not real?"
Xander let out a rather strangled sound that he hoped would come across as affirmative.
"Well hey, being put under magical duress has certainly come a long way since the old days. This is - " he broke off and threw back his head, his hips pumping as he came with a long, throaty growl. "- fun," he eventually finished with a heavy-lidded, satisfied smile.
Xander stayed rooted to the spot, his cock pushing insistently against the rough denim, watching helplessly as Spike climbed languorously off the bed, wiped himself down with Xander's brand new sheets and slowly pulled on his clothes.
He stopped at the doorway, looking back at Xander. "Well, it's been great, but don't let me stop you getting on." He nodded pointedly to the bulge in Xander's jeans. "I'm sure you've got things to do."
"Spike -" Xander croaked.
"Such a funny thing, magic," he continued musingly. "I mean, who'd have guessed that what you really wanted was to watch me having a wank?" He paused, his head on one side. "Oh, no, hang on a minute. I guessed it."
He stepped forward again and cupped Xander's straining erection, running his thumb over the seam and forcing a small whimper from Xander's throat. "And it looks like I just got proved right, doesn't it? Score one for the vampire."
"Spike - what - "
He leaned in further, face only inches from Xander's. "Knew you wanted me, Harris. Knew it all along."
He grinned at Xander's confusion. "Buffy came over, she told me what had happened. Asked me if I'd keep an eye on this place, watch out for any marauding demons that you might accidentally conjure up." The grin widened. "Guess the Slayer knows your tastes as well. So I thought hey, better the demon you know, right?"
"You - you - "
"Set you up? Yeah, I did." His fingers continued to play along the hard edge of Xander's cock. "And it worked quite beautifully, even if I do say so myself."
Xander let out a ragged breath. "Actually, I was aiming for 'you bastard.'"
Spike nodded, and continued stroking. "Yeah, well, I wouldn't argue with you on that one either. Although - " he paused, and looked directly into Xander's eyes. "If I was really that much of a bastard, I'd stop doing this."
His hand stilled, and Xander had to bite down hard on the cry of disappointment that was trying to worm its way out of his mouth.
"So, do you want me to stop? Because that's the question, really, isn't it? What do you want, Xander? What do you want?"
Xander closed his eyes. He'd spent the last year living in his parents' basement, he doubted that Hell could really be that much worse.
What did he want?
Leaning forward, he closed the distance between his lips and Spike's, and showed him.
-end-
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