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Playing with Fire

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“What’s that?” Spike asked, a smile in his voice as he felt Xander put somethings – light was about all he got from them – on his torso and arms.

“I didn’t give you permission to speak.”

“God, you’re cute when you’re trying to top,” Spike replied.

“Don’t move,” Xander said.

Spike heard the click of a lighter and, peering down under the edge of the blindfold, got a sense of flickering flames. “Hey,” he shouted, “what’s that?” There was no response. “Xan?” he called out tentatively.

Xander removed the blindfold. Spike saw tealights, lit little candles, all over his upper body. “Hey! You know I’m highly flammable, right?”

“Yep,” Xander agreed cheerfully.

“And you know what flammable means?”

Xander scowled at him. “It means don’t move.”

“Xander,” Spike tried. “Those candleholders are metal. Do you know how hot they’ll be in just a few minutes? You wouldn’t want to burn your favorite vamp, would you?”

Xander picked up a tealight, displaying the red felt glued to the bottom. “One, you like pain and two, got that covered.” With a grin he added, "They're red and green for Christmas! 'Cause I know little touches like that are important to you."

“Xan,” Spike wailed.

“Don’t move,” Xander repeated. Dipping his head, he tickled his tongue over Spike’s cock.

“There’s no way I’m going to come with the threat of fiery death hanging over me.”

“Wanna bet?”