Title: Xander Harris - Undercover 20/40
Paring: S/X with a side of W/G
Summary: Xander is drifting, looking for a purpose in life.
One that finally comes clear when he spots a certain
hairdresser by the name of Mr. William. Xander
immediately begins planing and plotting to win over
this scrumptious man. Of course nothing worth having
ever comes easily.
Genre: Comedy, romance. HAU
Warnings: The usual bad language as well as graphic m/m sexual
activities. Also warned of hints of poultry perversions.
Disclaimer: I Own or have claim on none of the characters or products
used and named in this story and no profit is made.
Feedback: Much appreciated. It encourages me to continue.
Special thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful banner and her patience and
willingness to preread and comment on my stories.
The night air outside the club was cool and calm in contrast to the heat
and boisterous activity that boomed outside each time the door of the
Bronze opened and closed.
The steady stream of people coming and going, laughing, talking
and singing, as well as the usual crowd that congregated in the parking
lot was nonstop.
Spike and Xander stood silently next to the huge black Harley,
both silent, confused, a little drunk and hoping to somehow be
granted a do-over.
Xander could feel it all slipping away. They were having their first
fight and if he didn't do something quickly, it may all end right here.
His hard work, his hopes and dreams, all gone in the blink of an eye
over some silly drunken comment.
A comment that, even now, Xander was having great difficulty recalling.
Something to do with Willow, wasn't it? But how could it be.
William didn't even know Willow.
Whatever it had been about, he had no intention of losing what was
almost within grasp.
"Spike." Spike corrected him.
"Names Spike. I only go by William at the shop."
Xander's eyes got big. His knees went weak and his stomach quivered
at the thought that he had a boyfriend by the name of Spike. Spike with
a big..... bike between his legs.
'Cheese Louise!' His brain hummed. 'It's a fuckin' wet dream cum true!'
He wobbled back on his heels.
Decision made, and before he could second guess himself or see the
stupidity of what he was about to do, Xander stepped up and with
no warning, grabbed Spike by the sides of the face and kissed him
soundly on the lips.
Spike froze, his arms flung straight out at his sides.
He had been frantically trying to think of something to make
the situation better and before he knew what hit him he had a pair of soft,
hot, sweet lips plastered to his.
Instantly, every one of Spike's senses was filled with Xander.
The touch, warm, large calloused hands on his cool cheeks. The press
of the full mouth on his, not forcing, not demanding entry, just.....there.
The sound. The gasp, the air as it's sucked in and held. The soft, low
moan that Spike was afraid had come from him.
The smell. It was all pure Xander. Sweaty, honest. None of that
pretentious cologne that people slather themselves in. Xander smelled
of clean, soap, shampoo, all things good and innocent.
The sight. Spike had been too shocked to close his eyes. The kiss coming
so unexpectedly, he had just stood there, like an idiot, staring at
the smooth tanned skin that carried just a hint of beard growth.
The boy shaved!
For some odd reason, the mental picture of Xander
standing at the sink, shirtless and shaving, shot straight to Spike's cock.
And last, but certainly not least, was the taste.
Even through closed lips Spike could taste the beer that almost, but not quite,
covered the toothpaste and mouthwash. Beneath the surface, Spike
tasted the innocence. The kiss tasted experimental. Like caution and
new courage. The kiss tasted of Xander.
Xander leaned back a few inches, breaking contact. It hadn't been
much of a kiss. Closed mouth, unreturned, and over way too quickly.
Still, it had been the best kiss of his life.
He looked Spike in the eye and smiled.
If the sharp zing to his balls and the fluttering his belly were any indication,
he had finally picked the right sex to hit on. The several girls he had kissed
were nice and the couple he had had fumbling sex with were great, cause, hey,
any sex is great sex, but this was it. He knew with certainty that
this was who he was and who he was supposed to be with.
Spike was the key to his destiny.
With that certainty firmly established, he dove back in.
The clanging bell in boxing ring of Spike's brain rang and the two
conflicting sides strode to the center to again fight it out, only this time
the little fighter that had "HELL, YES" printed on the waistband of his
shorts, swung and with one punch, flattened his opponent. Down and out.
The instant Xander's lips touched his, Spike grabbed the boy by the front of the
shirt and pulled him in sharply. Shoving his tongue forward left no question as to
what he expected. Xander complied with a whimper, opening his mouth and
accepting Spike's tongue with a hello basket of fruit and a noodle casserole.
THIS was a KISS!!
Hot, wet, slippery and eliciting whimpers from both sides. Spike's tongue
searched and licked every inch of Xander's mouth, claiming and owning it.
9/10ths of Xander's body went limp, the other tenth, hard as a rock.
This was everything a kiss should be, including the hard flat body that pressed
against his chest. None of that soft, limp, mamby pamby, fruity lipstick
Xander clamped his hands on Spike's hips and slammed his pelvis roughly
against the hard on of the smaller man. Both gasped and, turning their heads
to the other side, kicked the kiss an impossible notch higher.
Finally, when Xander knew he was probably just seconds away from his
second pant-gasm of the night, Spike stepped back. He knew tomorrow
when he was sober and the light of day reflected harshly on what he had done
he would feel guilty, but for now, he just didn't.
He couldn't remember the last time he had done this. Kissed. Wanted to
kiss. Enjoyed the kiss. Fuckin' well wanted to kiss again.
Spike ran his hand over the wonderful face in front of him and traced
his thumb over the smile on the lips that still looked damp and puffy.
His whole body vibrated with an excitement and life he hadn't felt
in the last two years.
Xander was mesmerized by the twinkle and sparkle in the beautiful
blue eyes that looked into his.
He could feel the puff of warm breath on his face as Spike panted and it
stunned and amazed him to think he had caused that reaction.
This was, by far, the most wonderful night he had ever known.
It was a Disney World night.
All the dreams he could not interpret, all the puzzle pieces that never fit,
all the confusion and contradiction that was his life, suddenly it all made sense.
Everything was just as it should be.
Xander wanted to stay here and kiss Spike forever.
Bring his sleeping bag and live in this parking lot spending his nights
and days kissing Spike.
Unfortunately, like all magic moments, it couldn't last. A crash of a broken
beer bottle against the brick wall followed by the screaming curses of
the usual drunken week end fight brought them back to reality.
Jumping and cringing, Xander turned in time to see the two men, followed
by a cheering crowd, fall against and bounce off his Chevy.
Luckily, before he could give himself away, Spike grabbed him by the
"Come on, Pet. Climb aboard and let's get out of here."
Turning back, Xander saw that Spike had put on the helmet and swung
his leg over the bike. Steading it between his feet, he leaned forward
making room for Xander to climb on behind.