Spander is Exploitive

by
Witling

Spike could be a feather, a raindrop. A spider leg dimpling the meniscus. Or he could be lead. Right now, he was lead.

"Fuck--" Xander leaned forward and let Spike slide down his back, then leaned back hard and pinned him to the couch cushions. "God, you're a jerk. I was just about to get the dagger."

They both looked at the television screen, dimmed and paused on grisly remains.

"Now I have to start the whole level again." Xander dropped the controller and leaned back harder. "Asshat."

Spike mmmmmed and wrapped a hand around his waist. He didn't care about compression. Unfair advantage. Also, he had Satan's own fingers. Cool and slow and right to the point. Xander closed his eyes and dropped a hand back to touch Spike's hair.

"We can't do this," he said as firmly as he could. Firm as his grasp of particle physics, yeah.

"Mmmm?"

"We can't," he said again, and scritched the base of Spike's skull. "It's wrong."

"'s wrong with it?" Spike had his fly open now, and how the hell did he--? Jesus. God. Xander got one hand on Spike's wrist, and he should have pulled, but somehow he didn't. Instead, his hand moved along with Spike's. Just there for the ride.

"It's, um--" Spike's head moved, and he bit Xander's side lightly. "Oh, God. Um. It's--exploitive."

Spike's hand stopped. "Exploitive?" he asked, very clearly.

"Yeah. Us. Doing this. It's just sex, and it's just for getting off on, and it demeans gay men, or, um, maybe it's male sexuality or--" Xander opened his eyes, stared at the waiting television screen, and tried to think. "Porn is wrong."

Spike lifted his head, and there was silence. Xander didn't want to turn and look at him. He should at least stop breathing like this first.

"Porn's wrong?" Spike repeated finally, as if waiting for the punchline.

"Um, yeah. I mean, it's wrong when it's exploitive."

"Said that already."

"It's wrong when it's badly written."

Considering pause.

"So, this is wrong?"

"Very. I mean, just read it over. Hurried, stilted. She's obviously on her way out to lunch, and just trying to grind something out for a few seconds' amusement."

Another pause.

"Right. Well, point there."

"So, okay."

"Okay."

Neither of them moved. After a second or two, Xander found that his fingers were scritching lightly in Spike's hair again. Well, that was harmless, wasn't it? That wasn't porn. It was just...scritching.

"What if we're not gay?" Spike asked suddenly.

"We're not. I'm not. Gay."

"No."

"But--" Xander tried to clear his mind. Things had seemed so simple just five minutes ago. "I don't think that matters. It's still expl--"

"Right."

"Huh." He took a deep breath and let his thumb run over the bone behind Spike's ear. It was just his ear. Spike made a little growly sound. "Oh, man."

"What if--" Pause. "What if we just--"

"Yeah?"

Spike's hand disappeared, and Xander flinched. Damn his big mouth. Damn it to heck. Spike shoved him forward and sat up. Xander started to zip himself, hating the entire concept of kerfuffle.

"What if I'm a fucking evil vampire and don't give a chorister's nut about exploitive?"

Xander paused. Then he sent a careful glance back over his shoulder. Spike was regarding him intently, performance-review gaze. Brace-yourself gaze. A cool little creeper went down Xander's spine and around between his legs.

"Well," he said weakly, and swallowed. "I guess if I couldn't fend you off..."

Spike could be heavy enough to bowl him right off the couch, if he wanted.

The End