bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
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Xander Harris - Undercover

Title: Xander Harris - Undercover 22/40

Author: BmblBee
Rating: Adult
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 planning 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 trip across town after dropping off Xander took less than
a minute, or so it seemed.
When he checked this watch he saw that it was actually closer
to a half an hour but he couldn't, for the life of him, recall any of it.

Apparently his brain had switched to autopilot when he left Crater Ave.
and the Harley, like a horse that knows it's own way back to the barn,
had returned to Locust st. unassisted.

He wasn't surprised. His brain had been on overload. Filled to bursting
with images, memories, and confused feelings. Each time he resolved
to 'get a grip' and clear his mind, the picture of Xander's face, just inches
from his own, would explode in full color and play out like an I-Max
movie on a wrap a round screen.

One minute he would allow himself to be weak and replay every
detail of the night, starting with the charged dance where the boy
actually came in his pants, right up to the end of the evening, looking
into the heated expression on Xander's face, knowing what he wanted.

Knowing he wanted Spike to kiss him again, touch him. Obviously
the boy was not as straight as Spike had thought. He smiled and
wondered if the boy even had a clue. He wondered if Xander
understood what that meant.

'Ha!' Spike smirked. 'What would Xander's tarty little friends will
think of that?'

Then, turning another corner, Spike would resolve to be strong
and block out the memories of everything that had happened, or
worse, focus on the blowjob in the bathroom.
Something he felt oddly guilty for.

The forced repression would last less than two minutes before the cycle
would start all over again.

Picking and wading his way through it all, one image, more than
any other, could not be ignored.

THE KISS

An event that deserved capital letters.
Spike smile allowing his thoughts free reign as the wind blew in his face
and the exhaust pipes warmed his legs.

'If it was a drawing it would be posted on a refrigerator door.
If it was a vacation it would be a round the world cruise.
A car - a Lexus. A house - beachfront in Malibu. A person - Steven
Hawkins (brilliant) A food - caviar.' Spike frowned 'No. Not caviar.'
His face lit up as he turned down another street.

'An oyster. Cool, wet, slippery. Nestled in a curved, smooth, hard
shell'

Finally, with a hard on painfully squished in his tight jeans, Spike pulled
the bike into the carport, somewhat surprised to find himself home,
and shut her down.

After booting the kick stand down with his foot, he swung his leg over
and stepped back from the heat that poured off the engine.
Spike locked his fingers, reaching high over his head and bent as far
backward as he could, stretching the kinks out of his back and giving
his mind a chance to slow down before he faced Wes.

'No sense in giving anything away. Hell,' He thought, 'nothing
to give away. Had a pleasant little evening, slight diversion from the
blah blah of daily life, and nothing more. Not like I'm ever going to
see him again'
That last thought left him strangely depressed.

Spike took two more deep breaths, pulled the keys from the ignition of the
bike, and headed for the back door to the small house they shared.

Checking his watch, Spike was surprised to see how late it really was.
Well after 1 am. He was stunned to realize that an evening that seemed
no more than an hour or two had actually been 5 hours long.

Not wanting to wake his roommate, Spike slipped off his shoes on the
back step and entered through the rear door that led into the kitchen.
Quietly opening the door he slipped in.

"ACK!"

Spike dropped both shoes and jumped back. The sight that greeted him
as he walked through the door was one that caught him totally off guard.
Although all lights in the house appeared to be turned off, the refrigerator
door stood open and the bare brown ass that stuck out of it glowed
brightly in the blue light of the vegetable crisper.

"Oh, hi. Wes didn't know what time you would be back. Hope you
don't mind I'm still here."

The owner of the full dark moon had straightened up, turned around,
stark naked, and was happily munching on a left over turkey leg from
yesterday's dinner.

"ACK!"

Spike stumbled back aginst the door, the palm of his right hand slapped
over his chest to check the continued function of his heart.

"Impressive as fuck, isn't it?"

Forcing himself, Spike tore his eyes off the huge, black, hanging
half way to his knees, cock, and focused them on his obviously satisfied,
equally naked roommate who was now leaning happily against the
kitchen doorway.

Totally unconcerned, Gunn took his drumstick and headed back towards
the small bedroom he and Wes now shared, the monster cock swaying
cheerfully, slapping back and forth on his thighs as he walked.

Spike jumped back out of it's way as he passed, his eyes glued, unashamedly,
to the hypnotic pull of it.

When Gunn was finally out of earshot, Spike turned to Wes with a
look of real respect and amusement in his eyes.
"Well, well, kiddies. Can we say "Donkey dick?"

Wes trotted across the room, flinched slightly as he sat down on the
stool at the breakfast bar, and poured himself a glass of orange juice.

"I would say that was a fair understatement."

Both men burst in to a rolling, tear wrenching, round of almost hysterical
laughter. One that took several minutes and more than one try to get under
control.

Finally, gasping for breath and wiping the tears from his face, Spike
sat down across from his roommate and relaxed. With a pang of guilt
he realized he had never seen Wes look so happy. Certainly nothing
Spike had ever done put that look of contentment in his eyes or that smile
on his lips.

"It's more than the sex, innit?"

Wes nodded.
"It's everything. His heart is apparently as big as his cock and suprisingly
both fit like a glove."

Both men fell into another round of giggles and split the rest of the juice.
Spike mentally resolving to give Wes's kitchen stool a good cleaning
with Pinesol in the morning.
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