Bloody Perfect Bradley
Spike was in hell.
"We were chatting in the hallway, just talking about how hard it was to tell your family you're not quite straight and I was working up the courage to ask him out because, well…did you see him? I would kill for those cheek bones!" Xander paused to take a sip from his beer and Spike tried hard not to watch his throat work to swallow the drink.
He was in hell because for the past fifteen minutes Xander had been babbling on about the new guy at work. The one who seemed to be just about perfect in every fucking way.
"You know how I get when I like someone, I babble like Willow on speed." Xander rolled his eyes, mocking his own nervous habit.
It had all started when Spike had moved into Xander's basement. The kid had taken off those horrible clothes and Spike…well, Spike fell in lust. He hadn't been stupid enough to have feelings for Xander. Not way back then anyway, but apparently he'd gotten stupider as he'd gotten older though because here he was, five years later, listening to Xander ramble on about his new employer, Bloody Perfect Bradley, and seething quietly.
"So John comes up. Remember John? Annoying smarmy guy. He comes up and asks Bradley out! I mean really, just cause Brad came out of the closet, doesn't mean he'll go out with just about anyone you know."
Spike hated him already.
Back when Spike had still been smart, Xander Harris, self-confessed nummy treat, had taken his nummyness and given it to Anya. That had been just fine with Spike, because he hadn't cared for Xander. He just wanted to shag his little brain out.
"He even used some corny line, comparing his eyes to stormy seas or something." Xander snickered. "Puh-lease, I had to bite my tongue to stop from laughing."
It had stayed that way until after Sunnydale had gone down, after he'd come back, after all hell had broken loose in L.A, after the Council had set him and Xander up in the same flat. To save money they said. HA! To have Xander keep an eye on him more like. Not until then had he felt anything more for the little sod.
The little bisexual sod.
The little bisexual sod with the big crush on Bloody Perfect Bradley.
"So Brad lets the guy down gently and asks me if I'd like to go out for drinks after work!"
Xander paused and smiled triumphantly at him. Spike stretched his lips into as close to a smile as he could get. He suspected it was closer to a grimace but even souled vampires had their limits.
"He wasn't some kind of demon, was he pet?" he joked, hoping against hope that Brad was some kind of evil so Spike could slay his undoubtedly perfect ass.
"Fuck, no! I did Willow's little spell just to be sure. 100% human male."
This time Xander's grin was tinged with lust.
"Great. Just great." Spike smiled back, telling himself that he had a soul now and couldn't go around killing humans just because they made Xander look like the cat about to swallow the canary.
With a last smile Xander headed to the bedroom to change, leaving Spike to stew in his own jealousy.
So he has nice cheekbones and blue eyes. What's so attractive about thatanyway? Not like nobody else has them. Bloody Perfect Brad. Bet he has stupid hair.
"What do you think of this shirt?"
Xander stood in front of him, in a wine-red shirt and black jeans, looking absolutely delectable.
"It's fine, pet," he replied, trying for disinterested and arriving at sulky.
He got an eye-roll for his trouble as Xander swept outside, calling out "Can't let Brad wait. See you later" as he went.
Spike just sat there fuming for about an hour. Xander deserved a normal life with a nice human who could go out with him and have picnics in the park and whatnot. Now he knew what his grandsire felt, watching Buffy waltz off to play with Riley.
Hang on. Had he just compared himself to the great poof? He was nothing like Angel! Really, him and Angel in any way alike? Not bloody likely!
Spike stood up, grabbed his duster and headed out. He had a plan.
He found Xander and his date in a little Jazz club just off Leicester Square. He scoffed at the choice of venue, sure that the arsehole that was making moves on his boy had picked it. Xander liked old-style pubs, not this arty farty crap. He spotted them sitting at a corner table, heads close together, chatting amicably.
Squaring his shoulders Spike walked casually to the table.
"Xander, fancy meeting you here," he said, adopting his best Knightsbridge accent, which was frankly much better than his mock cockney one. Without giving Xander a chance to speak, he pulled up a chair and sat next to him.
"And you must be Alan. Xander told me so much about you!" Spike gushed, extending his arm.
"I'm Bradley actually," the young man replied, automatically extending his own arm and wincing at the strength behind Spike's handshake.
"Bollocks," Spike blushed, looking for all the world as if he'd committed a terrible, though unintentional, faux pas. He leaned close to Xander, whispering just loud enough to be heard. "Sorry, pet. I thought it was Alan tonight."
"Look, maybe I should go," Bradley said hesitantly, standing up and reaching for his coat.
"No!" Xander protested, finally snapping out of shock. "Please, sit down. Spike, what the hell are you playing at!" He demanded, turning towards the blond.
"Not playing at anything, pet. Just came for a drink. I couldn't very well wait in the flat until you brought him back, my nerves couldn't take it. You know how I get when you're out picking a guy for us."
Spike was proud of the simpering quality in his voice, underlain with just enough insecurity to make it sound real. Really, he should get an Oscar for this performance!
"Brad, don't listen to him, he's clearly insane," Xander said, glaring at Spike.
"Don't you love me anymore, Xan?" Spike whined, his eyes filling with tears.
"Okay, I really should go. You two obviously need to talk." Bradley stood up again and grabbed his jacket. "I'll see you at work Xan."
"No, Brad, wait!"
But Brad had already gone, leaving a smirking Spike in his place. Xander was suddenly in Spike's face, grabbing the lapels of his duster and pulling him up and close to him, until their faces where less than an inch apart.
"What. The. Hell. Did. You. Think. You. Were. Doing." He demanded, shaking Spike with every word.
"Saving you from utter boredom." Spike promptly replied, looking entirely too smug, waiting for the joke that was about to follow. Xander always joked.
With one last glare, Xander pushed him back and stomped off. By the time Spike paid for the drinks Xander and Brad had had and followed him, Xander was long gone.
"The plan wasn't as brilliant as I thought then," Spike muttered and made his way back home.
He opened the door to the flat and immediately ducked as a flying bottle hit the wall behind him.
"Apparently Brad thinks we have 'relationship issues' and he doesn't want to get in the middle of that."
Spike's exclamation was completely ignored as Xander warmed up to his rant, pacing the length of the room, stopping every once in a while to glare at Spike.
"He doesn't want to see me again. Do you know how long it's been since I've gotten laid, Spike? Do you have any idea how much I liked that guy?"
Spike had the good grace to look a little bit guilty. The only reason Xander hadn't had any admirers was that Spike had made it perfectly clear to anyone who looked even remotely interested that Xander was off limits.
"He was interesting, and nice and gorgeous! And he wasn't out to eat me! Not in the bad way anyway. But you," he pointed accusingly at Spike, "you ruined it! And what really, really gets to me is that there's absolutely no reason why you would do that? Why did you ruin my date Spike? Why? Why? Why?"
Each 'why' brought Xander closer to Spike until he was glaring right into his eyes, his face only a couple of inches away from Spike's.
Bugger it, Spike thought and leaned forward, closing the distance and bringing their lips together. He pushed his tongue into Xander's mouth, determined to taste as much of him as he could before the boy got back to his senses and pushed him away.
"Oh…" Xander looked totally dazed, swaying a little towards Spike, was if his body was anxious for his touch.
"So that was why…" Xander said quietly, his eye focused on Spike's mouth.
Before Spike could reply soft lips were pressed against his own and Xander's tongue was tracing his lips, pushing lightly at the seam between them. Spike felt Xander's body press against him and moaned softly, inadvertently giving Xander access to his mouth. Mimicking his own earlier exploration, Xander swept his tongue through Spike's mouth, searching for and finding all the sensitive spots.
He felt warm hands burrow under the waistline of his jeans, cupping his ass and pulling him against Xander.
He heard Xander moan his name, heard him say how much he'd wanted Spike for so long.
"Now hang on, pet," he said breathlessly, pulling back until he was barely touching Xander's body. "A few minutes ago you were yelling at me for ruining your chance with bloody perfect Bradley."
Spike wondered why Xander was staring at him with such disbelief.
"Spike? Did you see Brad? He's a short, slim blond with killer cheekbones and blue eyes. He's practically a copy of you! I may not be the smartest of people but I know when I'm transferring."
Spike stared blankly until Xander clarified, speaking as if he was talking to a three-year-old. "I only wanted him because he looked like you."
"Oh." Spike grinned, jealousy forgotten now that Xander's choice was directly connected to him. He stepped back close to Xander, tugging the boy's arms around him until they were once again cupping his ass. "Carry on, then."
"You're an idiot, Spike," Xander said fondly and went back to kissing him.
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