Rating Adult overall
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this story and make
no profit from them
Summary: Set in the early 1940's, Spike is a G-man sent on
a mission in the Appalachian mountains to search for
and destroy illegal alcohol when he has an accident.
Xander is a moonshiner who takes him in.
The trip was long.
It's impossible to comprehend how long 30 hours can be
till you are trapped in a cramped little space, breathing
stale smoky air and other people's body odor.
It's even worse when you realize part of what you are
smelling is yourself.
It didn't matter.
With each mile Spike's stomach got more jumpy.
He considered getting off at the next stop, where ever
that happened to be.
He considered going back.
He considered throwing himself in front of the bus and
letting it roll over him.
Like a nickle matinee, his brain played several versions of
the reunion. He would be welcomed with open arms.
He would be rejected, the door slammed in his face.
Xander simply wouldn't remember who he was.
The last one scared him the most.
The one he liked the best was the one where Xander
drags him through the door and kisses him passionately.
He would be wearing the silly bib overalls he always had
on. He would let them drop to the floor and insist
Spike undress as quickly as possible.
Xander would already be hard.
He perfect cock standing hard, flushed red and leaking
at the mere thought of fucking Spike.
Xander would scoop Spike up in his arms and pull his
body flush against him.
Cock against cock.
Smearing juices between them.
Wetting each other's bellies and cocks with the wet
They would kiss.
Spike reveled in the memories of Xander's kisses.
They were deep, searching, all encompassing.
Sometimes Spike would jack off just to the thought of
Spike squirmed in his seat as the visions became clearer.
Xander would stand straight with his hands on Spike's
He would steer his mouth down to suck and lick on
First one then the other till they were both hard as pebbles.
Slowly he would run his tongue down Xander's chest
swirling around and tugging the trail of hair that let to the
Dropping to his knees he would come face to face with
the only cock he had ever known as intimately as his own.
He would want to suck it, but not yet.
First he wanted to rub his nose in the hair, the crease,
under the sac.
Reacquaint himself with the musky individualism of his
"Please, Spike. I've waited for you too long."
Xander's voice would be husky and breathless.
After tasting and licking the sweet bitter bubbles from
the slit, Spike would finally please them both and
swallow it down till it hit the back of his throat.
Spike could clearly remember the little grunting sounds
Xander made when his cock was receiving a good
Spike would wrap his palm around his own desperate
erection and fist himself in time with his tongues massage
of Xander's thick, throbbing flesh.
Unable to hold back after their long time without each
other, Xander would hold Spike's head in a viselike
grip and unmercifully fuck his face till he doubled over
and shot hot globs of cum down Spike's throat.
It would be pure romance.
Sighing, Spike opened his eyes and noticed Hope
Mortified, Spike snatched his fedora off the floor between
his feet and dropped it onto his lap.
Blushing, he couldn't meet her gaze. "Sorry"
His voice was quiet, but the smile on his lips showed no
"Seems your missing someone special too." It was the
only acknowledgement of the tent his hat barely covered
before she returned to tending her children.
Xander had driven through the night.
He would have made better time if he had not stopped
three times after just leaving the city.
Each time he would pull off the road and consider
going back to the docks.
Question more people.
Go back to O'Connor and ask him for help.
Each mile he travelled was further from Spike, and it
felt like failure.
All the things he had thought about saying to him, all
the things he had thought Spike would answer, he had
never allowed himself to think about the possibility that
he would be unable to find him at all.
The only consolation was the thought that maybe he
could try again.
Save some money and maybe move to the city.
Get a job and stay for however long it took to find him.
Yea, that's it.
That is exactly what he would do.
Feeling somewhat better, Xander went through the motions
of driving, eating, and stopping for gas and pee.
He even pulled over for a nap.
Just a few hours to rest his eyes and get him back on
the road for home.
It was a thought that comforted him.
He wanted to sit in his chair by the hearth and rock.
He just wished Spike were by his side when he did it.