Xander stared, his cock suddenly harder than it had been in…well, a long long time.  “Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re going to be late.”

Spike froze, then his head dropped.  When he spoke it was so quiet that Xander wasn’t sure he heard right.

“Um, repeat that, please?” Xander asked, dropping the laces.  His hands skimmed down over Spike’s ass.  Oh, the panties were silk, too.  Bare skin for a hand’s width and more silk, and he’d missed what Spike was saying again.  But Spike wasn’t moving away, so that was good right?  His right hand brushed the silk over Spike’s thigh and moved around, higher, around, higher and over skin again and back to silk.

“Oh fuck,”  Spike hissed, pushing into his hand.  “If you’re not sure, Xan, you better stop right now.”

Xander squeezed Spike’s balls and licked his shoulder.  “Turn around.”

Spike spun and they were kissing, hard and deep, like always.  And rubbing against each other, the only difference this time was that instead of two layers of denim between them it was denim and silk.  The thought made Xander’s cock throb, made him ache, and his hands roamed over the leather corset. He groaned into Spike’s mouth and finally pulled back for air.

Spike didn’t need the time to catch his breath, and Xander’s shirt was pulled off quickly.  “Really?”  Spike asked as he laved Xander’s nipples.  “You’re ready?”

“Jesus, Spike, just—“  His words were cut off when Spike bit down on his nipple, hard and tight, the lipstick smearing a little, and Spike’s hands worked his jeans open.  Then Spike was moving down, dropping to his knees and taking Xander’s jeans with him.  Xander closed his eyes, his chest heaving.  Any second now Spike would suck him, or touch him, or something, and Xander was finally ready for it to happen, finally ready to admit how much he needed it.

But there was nothing.

Xander opened his eyes and looked down at Spike.  Who was staring at Xander’s groin with a rather curious—and unsettling—expression.

“What?”  Xander asked, not getting this at all.  This wasn’t right.  Spike was supposed to be doing stuff, making him moan and pant and all that other fun stuff.  “What’s wrong?”

Spike blinked and looked up at him, his eyes comically large from the make-up, his mouth unnatural and over-bright.  “Nothing!  Really.  It’s just that…”

“What?” Xander asked again when Spike stopped talking.  His erection was fading, and that wasn’t right either.

“I mean, I knew…I must have.  I’ve just never seen—“  Spike, for once, seemed without words, and not happy to be so.

Xander had a feeling Spike’s speechlessness had little to do with the size of the prick he was looking at so closely.  So curiously.

“What the fuck are you not talking about?” Xander demanded, stepping back and tripping over his jeans.  He landed on his ass, and said, “Ow.”

Spike was instantly beside him.  “Are you okay?”   He was acting all concerned, his hands moving over Xander’s chest and sides. Xander let him, though he was still confused.

“I’m fine,” Xander said, laying there looking at Spike’s painted mouth.  “Why’d you stop?”

A guilty look flashed through Spike’s eyes.  “Well, it’s just different, you know?  Haven’t been with another bloke since Angel, and he’s the same as me and –“

Xander shook his head.  “Not following you here, Spike.”  He pushed himself up onto his elbows and wondered if he should kick his jeans off or just pull them back up.  

Spike sighed.  “Look then,” he grumbled.  Then he rolled away and pulled the silk panties off.

Xander stared.

Spike stared back.

“Okay,” Xander said finally.  “What the hell is that?”

Spike shot him an irritated look.  “That, oh child of a barbaric colonial family, is a foreskin.”

Xander stared some more.  “I’m not…I’m just…huh.  It looks…different.”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

Xander reached out one hand cautiously, brushing his fingers over Spike’s thigh, just above the stocking.  Spike’s cock, which had gone mostly soft like his own, twitched and Xander pulled his hand back quickly.  “I’m not touching it,” he declared before he could stop himself.

Spike’s eyes widened, then narrowed.  “Christ, there’s nothing wrong with it!  It’s natural.  You’re the one who’s missing bits.”

Xander looked at him and narrowed his own eyes.  “There is nothing wrong with my dick.”

“Didn’t say there was, just saying that maybe I don’t actually want to touch it either.  It looks funny.”  Spike pouted at him, then the pout changed to something more stubborn.  “Shame, though.  The kissing is nice.”

Xander sighed.  “We’re going to be late.”

“Yeah.”   Spike reached for the discarded scrap of silk.  “Well, let’s go then.  Maybe we can try this again sometime.”

“Maybe we need alcohol,” Xander suggested, standing up and fastening his jeans.

“Hmm.  Whisky works.  Pass me the boots?”

Xander looked around, finally spotting a leather boot top poking out from under the bed.  When he pulled them out he found himself holding a pair of shiny patent leather thigh high boots with three inch heels.  “You’re going to wear these?” he asked faintly.

Spike didn’t even look at him just nodded and reached for the boots.

“Maybe we don’t need whisky.”

~end


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Ending number two.  If they've been together for a while....

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