Work Text:
Seduction, he could do seduction. What did he know about the boy? He'd lived with Xander a few times now, must know some of his habits.
Favorite foods were easy. Pizza topped the list, but several snack items immediately sprang to mind, which triggered thoughts of Xander's lips; which, in turn, led to many more interesting thoughts.
Git! Start slow, yah? Don't want to spook the lad. Not a lad. A man.
Maybe that's what Xander needed. His self-esteem had always been an easy target. Maybe it was time to fix that. He did like movies, so...
"What's this?"
"Think the kids are calling it a DVD player, wanker."
"But where did you get it?"
He answered that with a raised eyebrow, saying, "Just thought a movie would be nice now and then. Here, put this one in."
"Apocalypse Now?"
"Admit it drags at times, but it's got an impressive body count. And can't knock the use of Wagner." Plus, it was one of Xander's secret pleasures; Spike could almost recite the dialogue in his sleep, he'd heard it so often.
With a shrug, Xander put in the movie and began cruising the extras.
Spike grabbed the chips but poured them into a bowl instead of leaving them in the bag. His goal for the evening wasn't to track down Colonel Kurtz, but to initiate some contact. Accidentally brushing fingers in the chip bowl seemed like a safe place to start.
So they sank back on the couch, bowl between them, but, with Spike's legs splayed in his normal territorial slouch, knees touching. Spike noticed that Xander didn't move closer, but he didn't move farther away either.
Spike let the dreamlike quality of the movie wash over him. He'd bet that the director was familiar with the local product, given how it translated to the screen. He just drifted until he recognized a certain scene. Oh, this was going to be good. He shifted a little to stare at Xander, not that that was a hardship, but...three, two, one --
"Yikes!" meeped Xander as he leapt a few inches off the couch. As he settled again, he turned to glare at Spike. "What are you looking at?"
Spike didn't bother to hide his grin. "Gets you every time, that tiger does! How often have you seen this flick? No, don't bother to answer that."
"And you're smirking why? And what do you mean, every time?"
"Lived with you, didn't I? And, predator here. Nice to hear the scared pitter-pat of a prey's heart, smell the scent of fear even if I'm not the cause. Almost thanked you a few times in that bloody basement."
"If you say anything about smelling like victory I'm so going to stake you for ruining my favorite movie. And you can smell fear? Can I just say 'Eww'?" responded Xander a bit huffily.
"Part of the vamp package, most strong emotions give off a scent. Fear, confusion, arousal, lust." So much for going slowly, pillock.
Though he did enjoy watching Xander's expression change as he processed that intel.
"Does that mean...that's just eww and ick and not fair."
Me thinks he doth protest too much, at least arousal is beating out any other scent. Didn't want to rush the lad but, he did speak truth; Spike did have the advantage. So he took it.
Leaning over the chip bowl, Spike proceeded to kiss Xander. Xander, after a brief pause, proceeded to kiss Spike. Then, Xander grabbed Spike and pushed him back, falling on top of him, or at least Spike thought that was the plan but...
"Ouch! Damn bowl!"
Not-so-soft flesh had hit the bowl's hard plastic edge, to detrimental effect.
"Not going to run out on me again, are you?"
"Not...going...to...run...anywhere," wheezed Xander. "Not planning to move."
He could feel the smirk cross his face. "Bloody hell, Harris, only you could get attacked by the bleeding Tupperware, mate."
"Fine. Laugh at the not-so-walking wounded." Xander gave him a half-hearted swat on the arm before absentmindedly stroking his forearm. "Is everything you own evil? Oh, I like this bit."
Slipping the bowl to his right, Spike turned back to the TV and slid over to where the bowl had been, leeching some of the warmth that was rolling off Xander. Not that they were snuggling, just two chaps sitting on a sofa. Two chaps who'd just been in the process of a very thorough dental examination. What the bleeding hell did Xander want? He'd played enough hot and cold for several life times, thank you kindly. But...Xander was still resting his hand on Spike's arm. And Xander hadn't run, or claimed to be confused or --
"You're not watching. You're about to miss the best part."
Shaking the model thought train out of his head -- those tracks were getting worn out anyway -- he focused back on the screen with a bit of his attention; some of it was monitoring Xander's heart but most of it was just enjoying time with Xander. And wasn't he a complete sap for thinking that!
"Did I tell you about the First Slayer stalking my dreams?"
"Stalking is an interesting term, sure you don't mean starring?"
That comment earned him another half-hearted swat.
"No. Stalking. It was after the four-be-one spell that let Buffy matrix Adam. We used the power of the First Slayer, who was less than amused. She hunted us in our dreams. I was stuck in my basement, though you were there, dressed in tweed."
"Bite your tongue, I haven't been in tweed in a century."
That comment earned him a raised eyebrow, and when had Xander picked up that little trick?
"Fine, RANDY."
"Oi, extenuating circumstances there. And what the bleeding hell does this have to do with the First Slayer?"
"Actually, not much. Just, in that dream, there was a whole Apocalypse Now scene with Snyder, you know, the old principal?"
"Short fellow? Looked a little like a Ferengi?"
"That's him. But he was playing the Brando role. Stupid dreams."
"Oh, the horror!"
"Well, it was. Watching the Mayor-snake eat him was definitely one of the highlights of graduation."
"Mayor-snake? Graduation? Did anything in your lot's life go normally?"
"Nope, nada, natch. And stop fidgeting."
Spike noticed that his leg, the one not touching Xander's, was tapping in a staccato beat. And when had he picked up his Zippo?
Hitting stop on the remote, Xander turned to him and sighed.
After staring at the blank screen for a moment, Spike turned to Xander, studiously ignoring the fact that their current position mirrored how they'd been sitting before the kiss.
"Hey, why'd you do that?"
"Do you remember how bouncy Dawn was when she was waiting for the new boyband album?"
Spike shuddered. While he'd been happy to see his Bit out of the pit of despair, he'd seen Fyarls do less damage.
"Don't know why you chose this movie if you didn't want to see it."
Spike didn't know how to respond to that. Luckily, he was saved from doing so as Xander said, "Let's make with the staking."
He could feel his eyebrow shoot up at that comment, but before he could lob the required witty rejoinder, Xander was off and running at babble warp five.
"I mean stake with nice hard wood, no, not wood. Not talking about wood. Oh damn, let's just kill something BEFORE I die of embarrassment."
With part of his mind drowning in the images Xander's words had generated, it was all Spike could do to growl out, "Fine."
Space was a good thing with the way his thoughts were running. He launched himself from the couch and grabbed some weapons, offering Xander a mid-sized battle-axe.
Xander took it, trying out its weight. "Never thought I'd say this, but I kinda miss patrolling. So, know any good cemeteries?"
If Xander had added a leer to that comment, it could have led to all sorts of interesting places, but no such luck. Harris was firmly in Boy Wonder mode. Fine. A spot of rough-and-tumble might just burn off his extra energy.
"This isn't Sunnydale. Can you really carry a battle-axe around without the cops crawling all over you?"
"Depends on the part of town," Spike drawled. "One small point: no swinging that thing in my direction, even if your aim's atrocious."
Xander had the grace to look chagrined, then said with an almost rueful smile, "Well, I'm all out of exes for you to sleep with, so you're safe from target practice, okay?"
"Right then, just so we're clear."
"Crystal. So, where'd you say ' there be demons?'"
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Figuring Spike knew the best places to find some action -- nope, not action, some fighting, yeah, fighting -- in this town, Xander let him lead. The fact that it gave Xander the perfect opportunity to observe the Big Bad's swagger and fluttering duster had nothing to do with it. What the hell was going on? Sanity had obviously been a few exits back. This time Spike had kissed HIM. But, why? And why was he worried about why like a girly girl? Shouldn't it be enough to enjoy Spike's kisses?
But all those years surrounded by estrogen seemed to have affected his hard wiring, and hard was not a word he needed to be thinking of right now. Snyder in the shower! Okay, that did it. Lust was scentable. Not news he particularly wanted to know. He wanted more than just a one- night stand. He didn't want Spike kissage, and hopefully other more sweaty activities, just 'cause Spike was bored. Nope, he wanted the whole enchilada, and he really should have had some supper before heading out on patrol. He wanted Spike to want HIM, to lust after him, to care about him, to...and that would be girly to the nth degree. He'd thought about leaving LA before. Maybe he should. And he's thinking too much -- what neutral topic was there?
"So, how is Deadboy?" Anya had always said it was polite to inquire about someone's occupation, especially here in America. And boy, was he in trouble if he was taking etiquette advice from Anya.
"His broodiness reached new heights last night. An old acquaintance had dropped by and got a little rough with the staff," was Spike's off-handed reply.
"Is everyone okay? I mean, Wes actually looks like he could take care of himself now, but..."
"Don't worry. Hero in Guccis saved the night, with only the bad guy dusted. Didn't think the wanker would have had the stones to pull it off. People can surprise you sometimes."
"Wait, you knew the bad guy?"
"Had met him, actually rescued the bugger after Angel turned him."
"You mean Angelus," Xander automatically corrected.
That comment got Spike to turn and -- so that's what a withering glare looked like.
"No, I mean ANGEL. Do you think I can't tell the two apart?" Shaking his head he continued on, leaving Xander a little stupefied.
"Oh, well, umm." Yup, and winner of the best conversationalist award goes to anyone but Xander.
Luckily -- and you know you're a child of the Hellmouth when this seemed lucky -- they were suddenly surrounded by vamps.