Anna S. (eliade) wrote,
Anna S.

s/x kiss

Gacked from green_luv. Let it be meme, I say.

Xander held up his hands as if begging the film to stop rolling. "Okay, no, no, no, see--this is *not* the part of the buddy-cop movie where the two guys have to pretend to be gay, and if it *is*, you can consider me officially leaving for popcorn."

"Will you shut it?" Spike spat the words out like bits of gravel.

"No, I will not--"

Spike spun and shoved Xander up against the alley wall, clamping one hand over his mouth, and hello, why the hell wasn't Mister Chip issuing the smackdown? Another failure of American technology; the Japanese now, they'd know what to do with vampires who shoved their cigarette-smoky hands under your nose with no respect for your personal bubble.

"Do you know what a Swodniw demon'll do if it gets within claw range?" Spike asked.

This was the point where Xander should have shoved Spike's hand aside or maybe gotten in a bite for the home team, rah, but the vampire's fierce gaze fixed him with the question and he shook his head in answer.

"It'll pin you to the ground, open up a hole in your belly," he poked a finger into Xander's navel, "and spend the next two hours slurpin' your guts up like capellini."

Capellini? Xander thought. And then: Ewwww. A wave of faintness washed through him, making his knees start to buckle.

Spike took his mouth-covering hand off but kept the other wrapped in Xander's shirt and yanked him away from the wall, craning around the edge of the alley to check on the status of their monster.

Xander cleared his throat softly. "So explain the part again where kissing makes the bad demon go away?"

"They don't eat prey that's mating."

"I hate my life. So. Much."

"I hate your life too," Spike said irritably, and then his body stiffened. "Oh oh."

"Oh oh?" Panic gripped Xander's capellini. "Oh oh?"

That was the last thing he had a chance to utter before Spike kissed him.

Xander struggled against fate, of course. His strict heterosexual code demanded that he try to twist from Spike's grasp and break from his vile vampire lips, defying death and the brutal Swodniw. Which made it hard to explain how he found himself back up against the alley wall, leaning on it for support as Spike's body blanketed him from head to foot, or why a hand had climbed into Undead Boy's back pocket while the other one wound into his bleached and extra-crispy hair.

I hate this, he assured himself, as he heard the Swodniw enter the alley and give them a snuffling investigation. And then he kind of forgot about it, kind of blanked out or something, though he thought he heard some moaning sounds that might have been the beast.

There's a lot of tongue, he thought absently, as a passing observation, the way you notice these wet and interesting things. Cool, agile, skillful, like a fish darting in and out of his mouth except not at all fishy, just smoky and boozy and...what had he been thinking a moment ago?

A lot of tongue, a lot of Spike in his mouth, a lot of...oh god, Spike in his mouth!

He broke away long enough to gasp, ready to curse and protest and really, really express his not-at-all-happy-with-this-ness, and oh look. An eight-foot tall monster with red eyes and claws like meat hooks.

Xander grabbed the back of Spike's head and pulled him in for another wild mouthful. And then he lost the plot again for a while, what with all the tongue and the hands and rubbing and somehow the part where his jeans came unzipped, possibly from the rubbing.

"Oh my god," he husked out as Spike drew off just far enough to sniff and chew his neck, the rest of him remaining plastered to Xander from the hips down and everywhere else it counted.

"Oh my god!" a higher voice said in horror, moments before something pulled his vampire away.

No no no, he thought in matching horror, eyes snapping open; this was his personal vampire, not for sharing. Get your own, he thought wildly, before sanity returned and he was forced to zip himself up in front of an audience of saucer-eyed girls.

His personal vampire was clenched in a slayer fist and wore an expression as if he'd just misplaced a thought somewhere over in Xander's pants.

"Okay," Xander said, holding one hand up and the other hand strategically down. "I can explain this."
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