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Xander Does Demons...Or Not.

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“Well this was a great idea.” Xander Harris, naked except for his rakish leather eye patch, squirmed uncomfortably on the floor of the forest he was currently held captive in and scowled at his equally naked companion.

Spike squirmed in his own rope bonds and scowled back, silently.

“Seriously, I can’t think of a better way to lull the bad guys into a false sense of security than to let them laugh themselves unconscious.” Xander shivered as a particularly chilly breeze whistled around some very delicate areas and moaned plaintively, “Shouldn’t we have been rescued by now? We did our bit, didn’t we? Okay, not well, but the infiltrating of the demon camp and gathering of information is so a done deal.”

Spike glared, flip-flopped awkwardly as he tried to turn over with his hands bound behind him and then grunted with triumph as he managed to achieve his goal and presented Xander with a view of his rigid back.

“Oh well that’s just fine.” Xander rolled his eye at Spike’s uncaring and unseeing body, whining, “I can’t believe you’re blaming me for this!”

Spike stiffened in indignation and it looked like he would turn back over for a moment, but he settled instead for drawing his knees up nearer his belly and shivering in a pointed manner.

“It’s not like you mentioned I’d have to fellate the head honcho!” Feeling pretty damn indignant himself, Xander stretched out a foot and planted it squarely on Spike’s butt, giving him a hefty shove and taking a spiteful satisfaction in the annoyed hiss and muffled swearing when Spike pitched face forward in a pile of mouldy leaves. “Not even a ‘Xan, pet, chances are you’ll ‘ave to give the big ugly bugger a bit of a suck before he let’s us nip in an’ grab the important-saving-the-world-thing.’, you bastard!”

Spike lifted his face out of the leaves, spat one out of his mouth and snarled at the incessant whining behind him as he squirmed further away from Xander and his incredibly cold foot.

“I mean, you could have brought it up these particular demons have two dicks.” Xander shifted as a sharp twig poked into his buttock, muttering darkly, “Anyone would have freaked and called him a mutant when they saw two woodies pointing at them.” He scowled petulantly. “And the screaming like a woman and running in panic into a tree was totally understandable.”

Spike managed to convey with a single disgusted grunt, that if Xander was too bone idle to adequately research his intended prey before going out hunting them than he was even stupider than Spike had previously taken him for, a feat that he, Spike, had up till now assumed was completely impossible.

It was a good grunt. Had a lot of layers. Nuances.

“Do I look like my jaw unhinges?!” Xander continued indignantly. “One of those things would have been a stretch, two would have killed me!”

Spike grunted again, this time insinuating that the killing of Xander might have caused him some regret. One day. When he wasn’t naked and bound on a cold forest floor.

He was really working those nuances.

Xander sighed and considered the vampire morosely. “Hey, Spike?” He wriggled closer and pressed his cold front against Spike’s cold back, pushing his soft, unhappy cock into the vampire’s curled hands. “Wanna blow job?”

If Spike hadn’t been frozen solid, his heart would have melted at the penitent offer. As it was, he nodded, patted Xander’s crotch and said magnanimously, “Sixty-nine it?”

Xander grinned, kissed the back of Spike’s neck and then pulled back to scoot round and get himself in position. “You got it.” He beamed happily at the wonderfully normal genitalia that met his eye when Spike also rolled over and leaned forward to press an affectionate kiss to the tip. “Best idea ever.”


The End.