Chapter 1
The closet seemed a lot smaller from the inside. When Xander had come up with the plan, the closet had seemed plenty big enough to hide in for an hour.
Of course, he hadn't taken the annoyingness of Spike into account.
In the pitch darkness, Xander pressed the button to light up the face of his digital watch. 11:13. They'd only been in the closet about 13 minutes, and Spike had already managed to piss him off at least twice that many times. It was almost impressive, how annoying Spike could be when he was really trying.
When the little green light went out, the darkness was nearly complete again. 47 more minutes until they could safely venture out. 47 more minutes ... with Spike ... in a closet the size of a postage stamp.
No one'll blame me if I dust him, right? I mean, there's a broom right here. Handy wooden handle. It'd be a lot easier to share this closet with a pile of dust than with a pain-in-the-ass chipped vampire.
Spike's voice was pointedly casual in the darkness, spoken almost directly into Xander's ear, due to their forced proximity. "You been working out? 'Cause I don't remember your pecs being this hard before." Indeed, their chests kept brushing whenever either of them moved.
"Spike, just ... just don't touch or comment on my body, okay? Because that is just too much with the wrongness." Xander attempted to step away, but his ass immediately collided with what felt like several rolls of paper towels on the shelf behind him. No escape in that direction. There was barely enough room for the two of them in here, let alone any space to move around.
"Just sayin' ... kinda hard to miss in such close quarters. Used to be a bit on the padded side, but you've gotten pretty fit, Not-So-Droopy Boy." Spike shifted position, and his hip brushed against Xander's groin.
Xander instinctively jerked away from the contact, but his resulting slight bounce off the paper towels only succeeded in momentarily pressing him more firmly against Spike's body. "Shut up! And stop rubbing against me, you undead pervert!" Xander pulled away, momentarily holding his breath to avoid touching the vampire ... before realizing that not breathing really wasn't the best long-term plan. With his every breath, though, some part of him seemed to touch some part of Spike.
"S'not my fault. Crowded in here, ain't it? And, anyway, I'm guessing you like it." Xander could almost hear the arrogant smirk in his voice.
"Spike, if you keep talking, someone out there is going to hear us. Reconnaissance, remember? We're not here to take in the thrilling broom closet scenery. So enough with the witty homosexual banter."
Spike slapped his hand against the steel-reinforced door, making Xander jump nervously at the unexpected sound. "Army base, lack-brain. Even the closets are secure. Wouldn't want anybody stealing their patriotic toilet paper, now would they? No human'd be able to hear anything through this monster of a door. We could shag our brains out against it and somebody standing right outside'd be none the wiser."
"Shag our...? Spike, quit it with the suggestive remarks. I get it. Taunt the homophobic guy. Fun for the whole family. Well, I'm here to tell you that I am too secure in my manhood to be threatened by anything you have to say. So just give up and shut up."
Spike chuckle sounded low and -- to Xander's mind -- dangerous. "Now that sounded like a challenge. If you're so secure in your manhood, whelp, then why's the idea of a bloke sucking your dick got you squirming?"
At the words "sucking your dick," the appendage in question responded enthusiastically. Xander's entire body stiffened with fear that Spike would notice the more specific stiffening down below. Trying to sound appropriately mocking, Xander bluffed, "What ... Are you offering, Spike?"
Spike sounded bored when he replied, "Could be. Gotta waste time in here somehow 'til these soldier types bugger off."
"You're joking." Xander wished he could see Spike's face, though that probably wouldn't help the situation any. Spike pretty much looked arrogant and condescending full-time. It was like his job. His job of evilness. Evil condescending smirkiness. With the raised eyebrow, sometimes, for extra annoying flavor.
"Maybe. Maybe not. Give me a try."
"No." It didn't matter if some parts of Xander's body were standing at attention ... he knew Spike was just jerking his ... uh ... yanking his ... pulling his ... uh ... chain? Nothing else, though. No jerking or yanking or pulling of anything else belonging to the Xan Man. Not now, not ever. Not by Spike.
"Afraid?" Oh, the smirk had gotten louder in Spike's voice, like he was really enjoying this. Prick.
"I don't need to prove anything to a loser like you." Okay, so that was sort of lame. But Xander certainly wasn't going to admit to any less-than-manly tinglings. He would just have a quiet little panic attack when he got home. Because he really wasn't getting turned on by rubbing up against Spike. That wasn't possible. Not unless they'd fallen into some kind of hell dimension without noticing.
"Oooh! 'Loser'? Sticks and stones, mate. And I haven't seen you parading any lovelies on your arm lately."
"So?"
"So we could probably both use a bit of a hand, so to speak. No shame in it."
"Damn, Spike! How desperate are you, that you'll come on to me?" It wasn't until it was out of his mouth that Xander realized how stupid that sounded. Why does my mouth move so much faster than my brain?
"Quite an ego you've got there. That work on the ladies, does it? Would explain your luck."
"Shut up. You know what I mean. I'm not into guys, Spike, and last I heard you weren't either. So what's your deal?"
Xander could feel Spike's shrug in the darkness. "I've nothing against blokes. Hell, simplifies matters, don't it? No guessing 'bout how things work and what they want. A cock is a cock. If I know how to handle mine, then I know how to handle yours, eh?"
"What?" Xander's voice nearly squeaked in panic. The mental image conjured by Spike's words was so not helping. Spike's hand on his cock, stroking, squeezing ... "No! No handling! Keep the hands away from the ... handling!"
Of course, Spike's hands hadn't been touching him at all. But in the darkness, his imagination had sort of run away with him. Problem was, he had been sort of enjoying where it had been running to, and that was just way too humiliating. Spike was obviously just amusing himself by trying to get a rise ... er ... reaction out of Xander. He'd been with Dru for how many years? And...
... wait. Did he say ... ?
The silence stretched for a really long time. Xander fought the compulsion to check his watch again. Spike couldn't have meant what it sounded like he said. Because he was straight. Right? Right? Xander wasn't trapped in a closet with a hard-on and a gay vampire ... and no way in hell was he going to come remotely close to touching the obvious closet jokes. Or anything else, for that matter. No touching. Of anything.
But did he mean ... ?
Eventually Xander couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. "So ... you've ... with a guy?" He probably wouldn't have even asked under normal circumstances, but in the dark he knew Spike couldn't see his face, and that made it easier, for some reason. Like he wouldn't be giving anything away. Not that there's anything to be giving away! No giving! I have nothing to give! Crap. Why is this all starting to sound a little pathetic, even to me? What's that saying about protesting too much? Okay, so I'll just stop protesting, right? Okay, so ... so maybe I sort of think Spike is attractive. I mean, everybody's noticed that, right? I mean, with the cheekbones, and that thing he does with his tongue... Xander bit his lip at the twitch from his cock in response to that thought. Okay. I can admit to noticing when a guy's attractive, without being gay. Perfectly normal. Doesn't mean I want...
"You want details and helpful demonstrations?" Spike's voice sounded so sexy ... so hot...
"Huh? No!"
"You sure? 'Cause I've been getting the impression you wouldn't mind."
Something rubbed firmly and deliberately against Xander's erection. Is that his hip? Or ... his hand? Xander was horrified to realize that he hadn't moved away from the contact this time. If anything, his hips gave a little surprised buck toward the pressure.
"That doesn't have anything to do with you! That's about friction! You keep rubbing it, it's gonna get hard..."
"Mmmm. I noticed."
Grateful for the darkness that hid his blushing confusion, Xander turned abruptly to face the unseen paper towels, but Spike almost immediately moved closer to press against his back. And Xander suddenly felt the hardness of Spike's own erection prodding at him through both their jeans ... nestling at the crack of his ass. That's not supposed to feel sexy, right? That's not supposed to be hot. Hell. Fuck. I am so screwed. Spike will NEVER let me live this down.
Desperately, Xander looked down and pressed the button on the side of his watch. 12:26. According to the plan, they were stuck here for 34 more minutes.
Fuck.
I should know better by now. First Cordy, and now Spike. I should know to avoid closets. Closets are evil. Closets and me should never exist in the same place, because it just never leads to goodness. When I get out of here, I'm going to design myself a closet-less house ... no closets at all ... I mean, who really needs closets?
Spike's body was pressing against his back, and Xander found that for some strange reason he couldn't bring himself to object. The sound of his breathing seemed embarrassingly loud in the dark. Spike's voice was smooth and smug as he whispered into Xander's ear, "You want it. I know you do." He nipped Xander's earlobe lightly before adding, "I can smell it." Xander shivered in response to not only the bite but also the words.
And then firm hands were on Xander's hips, sliding forward from behind, meeting in the center to explore his fly and the now-straining bulge it covered. At the first touch, Xander gasped, but he didn't pull away. He closed his eyes, and his head hung forward slightly, his breathing even louder in his ears now. This is crazy. This can't be happening.
Lips pressed to the nape of his neck, and then a tongue flicked against the sensitive skin. Xander groaned, and the hands at his groin shifted, one rising to his waistband to deftly unbutton his jeans. A moment later, the sound of the zipper was loud in the dark. Xander felt blindly in front of him, finding a shelf at chest height, which he pressed with both his hands, the cold metal smooth against his palms as he braced himself. He was panting now, the sound seeming to fill the darkness around them.
As Spike's cool hands -- I thought they'd be warmer -- slid inside his boxers, Xander tilted his head forward, his forehead resting against something soft. Patriotic toilet paper? And then a hand was holding his cock, another man's hand, not Xander's hand, and it was squeezing hard, just like Xander did when he jacked off. "Oh yeah!" he moaned aloud before he could stop himself. And then another hand was cupping his balls, rolling them and squeezing them gently as his cock was squeezed tightly again. Xander's body arched with surprised pleasure and his head fell back, luckily not colliding with anything along the way.
But then he felt cool lips against the skin of his ear, just brushing, lightly enough to make him shiver, as Spike murmured, "You like that. My hand on your cock." The hand squeezed again and began a slow stroke. But then the hand was abruptly pulled away, making Xander groan in disappointment. The other hand still fondled his balls, but he needed more than that. "I want it wet," Spike whispered. "Lick my hand."
Xander felt blindly for Spike's hand, and found it in the dark, bringing it toward his face. Spike's other hand had risen from his balls and now roughly jerked his boxers down, making Xander gasp. As Xander licked Spike's palm, the jean-clad erection behind him ground against his bare ass. Without thinking, Xander instinctively moved his hips, grinding himself back against the rough fabric and the hardness it covered.
Xander's tongue stroked Spike's hand over and over, thoroughly wetting the skin. When the hand moved away, Xander almost wished it had stayed, his mouth and tongue now suddenly bereft of stimulation. But when the wet hand fell to his cock, Xander forgot about anything else, moaning, "Oh god!"
His hand now stroking Xander's cock firmly, his other hand returned to gently massage his balls, Spike murmured in Xander's ear, "Knew you'd like it. Bet you wish there was a little more space in here, room maybe for me to get on my knees, suck you off, yeah?" Xander moaned again, his hips thrusting helplessly.
"Yeah. Want to feel your cock in my mouth, feel me sucking you down, taking you all the way down, deep, deep, looking up at you while you thrust into my mouth, looking up at you and begging for more..."
Xander was panting heavily now, his cock hard as it had ever been. He was getting close already, trying to hold off orgasm if only to avoid humiliating himself by coming so quick.
But Spike kept whispering as he roughly gripped Xander's cock, his hand now rising and falling quickly in faster strokes. He ground his erection hard against Xander's ass, trapping the boy between his dick and his hand. "Or maybe you'd rather I fuck you, eh?" Xander jerked in surprise, trying to turn his head, but Spike kept stroking, kept grinding against him, kept whispering.
"Oh, yeah, you'd like it. Me stroking you like this while my cock drives into you, filling you up, thrusting into you, making you beg for it, making you whine and thrust your ass back to meet me..." And that's exactly what Xander was doing, mindlessly rubbing back against Spike's thrusting hardness as his breath came in harsh gasps interspersed with inarticulate moans. He was close ... so close...
And then Spike's tongue was tracing the whorls of Xander's ear before he breathed softly across the area he had moistened, the air on wet skin making Xander tremble. "Yeah, you'd beg me for it. Slick me up in your mouth and beg me to bend you over ... beg me to slide in, all hot and wet and tight. Beg me to give it to you. Beg me for more. Beg me to fuck you harder..." And finally the mental images conjured by Spike's words were too much. Xander couldn't hold back anymore, and with a startled cry -- a sobbed, "God, yes!" -- Xander came, his body shuddering and jerking in Spike's arms as his throbbing cock spurted onto unseen cleaning supplies.
Silence. When Xander's cock had softened, Spike released it, raising both of his hands and wiping one of them against something soft on the shelves.
"My turn," Spike said, once again pressing his erection tightly against Xander's ass, his hands coming to rest on Xander's hips, holding him still while Spike ground against him.
Xander stammered, "Uh ... what?"
Spike used his hands on the boy's body to turn him, so that they were once again face-to-face in the dark. Xander heard something that sounded like buttons popping free of cloth, and then Spike grabbed his hand, placing it on cool bare skin.
The bare skin of a very hard cock. Which wasn't Xander's.
The sensation was strange, feeling a cock only from the outside. And it felt different, too. Not quite as smooth, but softer. Xander figured that must be foreskin. Curious, he stroked down and then up again, fascinated by the feel of the soft skin stretching over the hardness.
"That's it," growled Spike. "Harder." His hands were still resting on Xander's bare hips, as if he were about to pull their bodies together. But he didn't move. He just maintained that firm touch while Xander handled his cock.
I can't believe I'm doing this.
Xander tightened his grip, absurdly pleased at Spike's resulting groan, and began stroking rhythmically. It was a bit awkward, holding onto a cock from the wrong way around, but the mechanics were still basically the same.
And I've got plenty of experience with the old game of naked solitaire. Who'd've thought it'd come in handy someday? Heh. "Come" in "handy."
Spike was thrusting his hips into Xander's hand. "Ah yeah," he grunted. "Like that. Just like that." Xander tried to keep a steady rhythm, but Spike's hips were moving fast now. "God, wish I could fuck you," Spike moaned, "right up against this fucking door, all tight and hot, make you come for me, make you come just from the feel of my cock in your ass..."
This should be grossing me out. Why isn't this grossing me out? Why is it really really hot, instead? What's wrong with me?
Suddenly, Spike was groaning loudly as his cock throbbed in Xander's grasp, spilling liquid onto his fingers, some shooting far enough to land on Xander's bare arm, some even hitting his naked thigh. It was strange to feel it without being able to see it.
For a long moment, the only sound in the darkness was heavy breathing. Xander pulled his hand away, holding it suspended away from himself, acutely aware of the thick liquid on his hand, arm, and thigh. He hesitated briefly, and then used his left hand to grab one of the rolls of paper towels, opening it awkwardly with fingers wet with Spike's spunk. When he'd gotten it open, he tore off a few paper towels and handed them to Spike, then tore off a few for himself.
Xander found that getting his boxers and jeans back up was a bit more of a production. There was little room to maneuver, but he was eventually able to manage and was once again fully dressed. He stood still again, painfully attuned to Spike's nearness.
What now?
Neither of them spoke. Xander tried to avoid fidgeting, since it only made him brush against Spike and that seemed incredibly complicated right now. Time seemed to crawl. In the darkness, there wasn't even anything to look at, and the only sound was Xander's heart and breathing. It was eerie, having Spike so close, making no sound whatsoever.
But, after what felt like an eternity, Spike casually drawled, "So. How we gonna waste the rest of the time, eh? A rousing game of I Spy?"
Glad for an excuse, Xander pressed the button on the side of his watch. "12:53," he said quietly. "Only 7 more minutes and we can get out of here. If everything goes according to plan, they should all be gone by then."
Another long silence.
And then, unexpectedly, the quiet clicking, turning sound of the door handle.
Xander whispered frantically, "Spike, are you doing that?"
But the tense voice beside him only hissed back, "I don't think everything's going according to plan, pet."
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