Xander stood in the middle of his apartment.  His.  His apartment.  All
his.  He would have jumped up and down and yelled 'who-hoo' but there was a
vampire lounging in the living room, trying to be seductive or sultry or
*something*, Xander wasn't sure which.  He did know that if he stopped
digging through his box of books for a victory dance, Spike would interpret
it as 'come undress me'.

  Xander had to stop for a minute, and figure out why that was a bad
thing.  He stared at the packed box of books, and tried to
remember.  Unload books, have sex.  Unload books, have sex.  What was he
missing, here? Oh, right -- he'd already stopped and had sex five times,
now, in the last three days instead of unpacking.  At this rate he was
going to be living out of boxes for the foreseeable future.

  He glanced over at Spike again and tried to remember why that was so
bad.  Spike was slouched in the chair -- it looked like he'd even slid down
another inch or two, to appear even more wanton than he had a minute
ago.  He wasn't doing anything, just sitting, looking around, as if he were
waiting and ever so slightly bored, but resigned to waiting patiently.

  For someone to stop unpacking, and jump him, no doubt.

  Xander determinedly wrenched his eyes from his boyfriend and turned back
to the boxes of books. He was *not* going to stop and jump Spike again.  He
*had* to get this unpacking done.  Besides, it was Spike's turn to do the
jumping.

  His indolent boyfriend didn't seem to realize that, though.  Or if he
did, he was demonstrating a definite lack of interest in fairness.  Big
surprise there, Xander told himself.  Although when it came to sex, Spike
was generally willing to do...anything if it meant getting to have
sex.  Even being fair.  So if he weren't jumping Xander now, that either
meant he was in favor of Xander getting a little unpacking done before the
weekend -- or he was planning something.

  Considering Spike had never been big on interior decorating -- abandoned
warehouse was his idea of chic -- Xander was willing to bet it was the
latter.  That left the ball in Xander's court.  Did he keep working, try to
get as much done as he could, before Spike struck? Or act now, and disrupt
the vampire's plans?

  Unless that was Spike's plan. Play the innocent and make Xander do the
jumping. That way Xander couldn't protest he should be unpacking.  So that
meant, if he wanted to disrupt Spike's plan, he should keep unpacking.

  If it *wasn't* Spike's plan, then it would force Spike to make the first
move.  Either of which would mean Spike would have to get his ass out of
the chair and do *something* to get sex, other than sit around and look
hot. Not that Xander minded Spike looking hot. Just...sometimes Xander
wanted to be the one looking hot enough to get jumped.

  Spike shifted a bit, in the chair, but otherwise made no move.  Not
getting up, not turning to watch Xander, not unzipping anything.  Perhaps
Xander would find out just how long it took before Spike got utterly bored?
See how long he could sit still?  He smiled at that thought; knowing how
hyperactive his lover was, Xander was sure he could wait him
out.  Especially if he actually concentrated on the books he was unpacking.
Already he'd found one or two volumes that Giles must've slipped in when he
wasn't looking.

  He was pretty sure it had been intentional -- not because they were books
Giles didn't want, but they were books which had various important
references or interesting and topical prophecies in them.  Sort of like
making sure your new collegiate had enough underwear and cash, before
heading off to school.  For the ex-Watcher, that meant making sure Xander
had a copy of the "Doragotahe", in case he got attacked by little blue
beetle demons, or found a suspicious-looking enchanted dagger.

  Spike was sitting still, now, as if aware that Xander was testing him.
Ha. Xander continued to unpack.

  He focused so tightly on what he was doing, that he actually managed to
shut out Spike's presence for several minutes. Then he heard Spike shift
again, and he glanced back to see Spike throwing one leg over the arm of
the chair.  As if Xander needed a view of Spike's crotch, having forgot
what it looked like in the last ten minutes?  Well, buster, two could play
at that game. Xander stood and stretched, then bent over to pick up more
books, knowing that it would give Spike an excellent view of his...um...assets.

  The was the sound of denim sliding on upholstery, then nothing.  Xander
could feel Spike not moving.  Very, very hard.  He grinned, knowing that
Spike couldn't see it, and stretched and bent again. There was silence,
followed by the sound of shifting fabric on fabric again.  There was a very
quiet sound, like someone had swallowed.

  It couldn't be this easy, could it?  Xander tried to sneak a peek without
looking like he was sneaking a peek.  He saw Spike trying to act like he
wasn't openly gaping at the sight of Xander's ass. Hiding a grin, Xander
bent over a little more.

  There was a slight noise of denim sliding on upholstery again, then
nothing.  Nothing, until suddenly there was a hand *on* Xander's ass, and
another moving around to his front.  "Want something?" he asked, even
managing to sound casual as he stood up -- not precisely to give Spike
better access to anything, but just...because.

  Spike answered by squeezing the hand that was on Xander's ass, and moving
the other hand to the zipper of Xander's jeans.

  Xander caught his breath. "I'd take that as a great, big yes."

  "You wanted help unpacking, right?  Looks to me like you're packing
something."  Spike's fingers found the zipper, and pulled it down, brushing
hard against Xander's growing erection.

  Xander made a sound deep in his throat, but still made a token protest.
"That wasn't what I meant."

  "Er? Oh, so I shouldn't do this?"  Spike pulled Xander's jeans open, and
pulled his underwear down.  His erection popped free, and into Spike's
cool, waiting hand.

  Xander's hands tightened on the edge of the book shelf. "Reurg," he said
coherently.

  "Bad Xander.  No speaking demonic languages I don't understand."  His
fingers squeezed again in unison on Xander's cock and ass.  "I'm pretty
sure that wasn't Fyarl, unless you're hoping I'll *bring* you a dead rabbit."

  "Ew. No."

  "Didn't think so."  Spike was moving his other hand, now, rubbing it up
and down Xander's ass. Xander pushed back into the touch, wriggling
encouragingly. "Here, now, weren't you putting those books away?" Spike
scolded, lightly.  He slipped his hand inside Xander's jeans, and cupped
his ass through the thin cotton of his underwear.

  "Books?" Xander repeated, his brain losing the ability to process
complicated thought as all his blood seemed to be rushing south.  Then
there was a soft kiss on his neck, and two hands rubbing either side of
him, and Xander decided he didn't *care* if he could process
thoughts.  Even though this meant Spike had apparently won.

  Spike winning, meant Xander got sex.  How was that bad, again? He
wriggled again, hoping to entice more touches. Fingers started doing things
-- fun, interesting things.  Moving around like Spike was looking for
pennies in the dark, fingers were groping spots of his anatomy like he'd
hidden something just under his skin and it was Spike's job to find it all.

  "Merurgh," he encouraged, shivering at the sensations running through him.

  Another kiss on his neck.  "Oo, you *are* kinky."

  "I'm letting a vampire feel me up," Xander said in a sudden burst of
coherency. "Of course I'm kinky."

  "Letting?  Didn't think you had a choice, the way you were bending over
like that."  There was a moment of silence, and Spike's hands stopped
moving.  "That doesn't sound right," Spike said thoughtfully.

  "You stopped."

  "Sorry.  Thought you wanted me to, earlier."  Spike began moving his
hands again, stroking Xander's erection again and slipping his other hand
now inside Xander's underwear.

  "Wa-wa-want.." Xander stuttered, then broke off in a groan as Spike's
fingers slid down his cleft.

  "Want something?" Spike asked, casually as he pulled Xander's clothes
down, out of the way, and started moving his fingers up and down in
opposite directions, making Xander's head spin.  He went with it, turning
his head towards Spike.

  "Wha-?"

  Cool lips pressed onto his.  A tongue slipped into his mouth, and now the
fingers on his body were stroking in time with the tongue.  Or maybe it was
the other way around.  Xander didn't care; he was surrounded by Spike,
losing himself in the taste, the feel of his lover.

  Spike seemed to be everywhere -- touching him, growling softly against
his chest, running his tongue all over Xander's mouth, then down his jaw
bone and down his neck to his collarbone.  Hands moving everywhere, jerking
him off slowly and methodically, fingers toying with the flesh around his
asshole.  Xander heard someone moaning, babbling, begging in what sounded
remarkably like his voice.

  There was another voice, that sounded remarkably like a very aroused
Spike, whispering "Yes" in his ear.

  "P-please..." That had been his voice again, wanting something, wanting
more, wanting *Spike*.

  The fingers on his cock loosened their grip, ever so slightly. Xander
whimpered. The fingers on his ass circled slower, dipping closer, before
moving slowly away.

  "*Spike*!" he growled.

  "What?" came a tone of utter, aggrieved innocence -- simultaneously with
a finger slipping inside him. He pushed back against it, a sound of pure
need coming from deep in his chest. The hand on his erection tightened its
grip, and as he moved, he slid inside Spike's fist.  Then he made that
sound again, repeating the motion.

  "Oh, hang on," Spike said, and *both* hands disappeared.

  Xander cried out in protest, trying to turn, and having to grab onto the
book shelf to keep from falling.

  "Forgot the lube," Spike explained, then, before Xander could form any
coherent protest against *waiting* while Spike dug around for the lube,
Spike was on his knees behind him, and a cool, wet tongue was laving his
asshole. Xander's grip on the shelf turned white knuckled, as he
concentrated on staying standing.

  Spike's tongue licked in the same slow, maddening circles as he'd traced
with his fingers, before slipping inside.  Xander whimpered, his knees
threatening to give out.  There were fingers digging into his butt cheeks,
spreading them open, and he could feel Spike's nose bumping him, every so
often, as he pressed his tongue inside.  He pushed back into the touch
desperately, his body shamelessly begging for more.

  Spike seemed of no mind to refuse him.  The tongue kept pushing its way
in, wriggling, then sliding out halfway, almost all the way, or fully out
before Spike would fuck him again.  Xander whimpered again, wanting to say
something encouraging, but all that came out were more wordless noises.
Spike pulled out, and gave him a slow, long lick up one butt cheek.  Then
the other.  Then a nibble.

  "Spike!" Oh good. A word.

  "Mmmm?" Spike replied, though it was more of a growl than a question.  A
lick, a nibble, and Spike's tongue was nowhere near his asshole anymore.

  "You stopped again." He looked back over his shoulder, only seeing the
top of Spike's head.

  "Erm?"  Spike looked up at him, blue eyes dilated wide as they focused on
him.  He still didn't answer him, though -- leaning forward to place his
open mouth on Xander's ass, while still looking up at him, not breaking the
gaze.

  Xander found himself caught in it, unable to look away, losing himself in
the blue depths. Spike's tongue was pressing against his skin, moving about
in patterns as the tip of Spike's blunted teeth barely dug in.  His hands
shifted to grip Xander's thighs, fingers digging in again as though Spike
were unable to completely prevent himself from biting and could only
redirect the urge.

  It was..headrushing. Amazing. He knew he should feel an edge of danger,
but he didn't. All he felt was...trust. It was something of a shock to
realize. Spike looked away just then, and something broke.  A connection,
maybe.  But Xander didn't have time to say anything because Spike's tongue
was playing at the entrance of his body, again, and making Xander's body thrum.

  All thought disappeared from his brain again. This time, Spike pushed his
way in and stayed there -- moving his tongue around, pushing as far as he
could, hands kneading Xander's thighs as Spike fucked him.  Xander lost
himself in the sensations, everything fading away except what Spike was
doing and the pleasure it was causing.

  He felt a whisper of a touch on his aching cock, and jerked forward
instinctively.  He heard a chuckle from behind him, even though the tongue
never stopped its motion. Xander moved desperately, instinctively between
the two sensations: forward into Spike's hand and back onto his tongue.
Spike's hand closed on his cock, but it didn't move -- just held him,
steady.  The tongue kept fucking him, but Spike was torturing him, with his
hand.

  Xander cried out, words beyond him, but needing to convince Spike to
move, to give him what he needed. Spike just held him, tightly -- as if
ready to pinch down at the first sign Xander was going to reach his
orgasm.  Spike's tongue kept thrusting in furiously, driving him harder;
then  Xander wailed as it crashed on him.

  Instantly, Spike's hand clamped down.  It was only for a second, before
Spike was turning him around and his mouth was clamping down where his hand
had been and there was cool, wet, sucking in its place. Xander's wail
increased in pitch and volume as Spike drove him impossibly higher.  A
finger suddenly took the place of the tongue that was wrapping itself
around Xander's cock, sucking every last drop out of him as though it were
blood.  It was too much. The pleasure overwhelmed everything as the world
went grey.

  He was dimly aware of hands, again, and being held against something
not-warm, then the floor was under his back and someone was tugging at his
jeans. "Mrmm, hrm?" he managed.

  Jeans still being pulled down, and legs raised into the air.  A position
even Xander's fuck-adled brain could recognise. He moaned something that
was supposed to be encouragement, managing an enticing wriggle.  Spike
raised his legs, propping Xander's ass on something that wasn't completely
soft.  Then fingers were wriggling inside him, and Spike was muttering
something under his breath.

  Xander tried, but couldn't make out the words.  Two fingers entered him,
wriggling and moving around like he hadn't just been rimmed until his
brains exploded.  Spike, however, was still looking around as if he'd lost
something.  Like lube. Again.

  "Gah," Xander offered, then frowned and concentrated. "Shelf," he finally
managed triumphantly.

  "Right!"  Spike leapt to his feet, leaving Xander with his legs in the
air and his ass hanging in the breeze.  Vampiric speed worked on his
behalf, though, because sooner than soon Spike was kneeling between
Xander's legs, again, snapping the cap open and inserting two unlubed
fingers in his ass again.

  "Merg," Xander encouraged, wriggling again.  There was short pause, then
the fingers were removed and something else -- bigger and harder and
slippery -- was inserted. A sound halfway between a groan and a purr came
from deep in Xander's chest as he somehow got his arms to cooperate long
enough to reach up for his lover.

  Spike moved forward, putting his arms down on either side of Xander,
resting most of his weight on his hands, and thrust, hard. Xander wrapped
his arms around Spike's neck, gasping at the penetration.  There was no
tormenting, or teasing, now.  Spike pushed into him, hard, fast, and Xander
could see the muscles of Spike's arms and shoulders tensed as Spike held
himself up and fucked him.

  Panting in time to the thrusts, Xander held on tightly, his eyes never
leaving Spike's face. Somehow Spike managed to thrust harder, as his eyes
lit on Xander's.  His mouth opened, slightly, as if a preface to gasping
for air he wouldn't need.

  Exerting himself, Xander leaned up and kissed him. Spike's mouth opened
immediately, taking Xander in even as he heard a groan building deep in
Spike's throat.  The groan broke into punctuated muffled gasps, as Spike
fucked him harder, one last time, and came.  Xander continued kissing his
lover the entire time.

  Spike started to collapse forward, onto him, and locked his elbows at the
last moment.  "You can, you know," Xander murmured inbetween even more kisses.

  "Mmur?"  Spike opened his eyes and tried to refocus them.

  Grinning, Xander tugged gently, encouraging his lover to rest his weight
on him.  For a second he resisted, then all at once Spike fell onto
him.  He latched on, arms and legs wrapping around Xander. Xander sighed in
contentment, holding onto the vampire tightly.

Part Two

Grinning, Xander tugged gently, encouraging his lover to rest his weight
on him. For a second Spike resisted, then all at once fell onto him. He
latched on, arms and legs wrapping around Xander. Xander sighed in
contentment, holding onto the vampire tightly.

"Smurgbuk," Spike muttered, as he snuggled in closer.

"You're welcome."

There was a pause, then a muffled laugh. "Said, m'lying on a
book." Spike shifted a bit, moving his knee back and forth.

"Oh." Xander snuggled for a moment before Spike's words really
penetrated. "What book?"

Spike sounded a bit foggy as he said, "Can't tell. Red, gold letters
that look like drunk ants peed everywhere."

Xander frowned as he tried to place it. Then he yelped and dumped Spike
on his ass as he scrambled to check the condition of one of the first
editions his grandmother had given him. "Ow! What the bloody--?" Spike
glared at him and rubbed his hip. "Oh, I like that. Rather read a book
than cuddle your lover," he said piteously.

"It's all right," Xander said, sighing with relief and hugging the book
to his chest.

Spike sniffed. "*It's* all right. Don't care enough to not leave it
lying on the floor, but let a poor vampire get into a post-coital snooze,
and all of a sudden it's a priceless rare edition."

"It *is* a priceless rare edition. It's also a gift from my grandmother."

There was a pause, then another sniff, though this time more
subdued. "Fine. I'll just go cuddle myself, then, in a cold
chair." Spike moved towards the chair he'd been sitting in earlier,
watching Xander unpack.

"Oh come here," Xander said roughly, after putting the book carefully on
the shelf.

But Spike retained his 'poor unloved me' expression, even as he slowly,
reluctantly, reversed direction towards Xander.

"We could always do something radical like go use the bed," Xander offered.

"Can't," Spike responded, as he resumed his earlier Xander-glomming
position. "Bed's covered in boxes."

"Oh. Right." Because when he had tried to go unpack the bedroom, someone
had distracted him. When he'd tried to unpack the kitchen, someone had
distracted him. Same for the bathroom, living room twice now, and the
foyer. "Your fault," he muttered, but without much heat.

"My fault? I wasn't the one who put boxes all over the bed."

"You're the one who distracted me when I was trying to unpack them so I
could get rid of the boxes."

There was no response.

"Spike?" Xander raised his head to look down at his lover.

"Can't think of anything that isn't an admission of guilt."

"Oh." He brightened. "Does this mean I win?"

There was another pause, then, "Win?" Spike sounded honestly confused.

"I was right. It was your fault," Xander explained.

"Of course you -- what're the stakes, again? And no funny jokes," Spike
added.

"You want unfunny jokes?" Xander said with an innocent expression.

"From you? Be most-- hey! Watch the hands, wanker!"

Spike didn't actually try to move *away*, or get out of Xander's
grip. He didn't even move an inch out of his snuggling on the floor
position. "Can't watch them. Not and hug you at the same time."

Spike reached back, grabbed Xander's hands, and held them -- for two
seconds. Then he scooted them down, about an inch, and let go. Xander's
hands were now almost touching the curve of Spike's ass where his legs met
his buttocks.

"Uh huh." Xander pretended nonchalance. "Can't watch them there either."

"Bloody hell," Spike groused, as if he'd actually been hoping that had
helped. He wriggled upwards, a bit. "Better?"

"Depends on what you're trying to do."

"Help you unpack," Spike said in a bright tone that belied the limp way
his body was draped over Xander's body.

Xander raised his head enough to look at the boxes lying all around them.
"You're not doing a very good job."

"Am so. Help keeping you from getting bored, with all the 'take book out
of box, set book down. Take book out of box, skim book, set book down two
hours later.' On and on..."

"It's got to be done."

"Mm-mmm." Spike wriggled again, tightening his glom on Xander. Then he
lay absolutely still.

Xander sighed, giving up the thought of getting any more unpacking done
in the immediate future. Of course, this wasn't really a bad thing, was
it? It wasn't like he really *preferred* unpacking boxes, to lying on a
cold, albeit carpeted, floor with a naked, albeit not-so-warm vampire on
top of him. "Um, Spike?"

"Hrm?"

"I'm cold."

Spike responded by snuggling tighter.

"That doesn't really help, you know."

"What d'you want me to do, go dig out some electric socks?" Spike's hand
slid down Xander's body, until it was resting underneath his ass. Not
surprisingly, Spike's hand felt no colder than his butt.

He was beginning to get goosebumps. "Electric socks?"

"Don't you own electric socks?" Spike raised his head and peered at him
with drowsy eyes. "How'd you stay warm, otherwise?"

"I don't usually lie naked on the living room floor with a vampire on top
of me."

Spike blinked. "Not even in the privacy of your new bachelor apartment?"

Xander paused to think about it. "Well..." There was a noise of triumph
from Spike, and he ducked his head back down into the crook of Xander's
neck. "I'm still cold," Xander complained.

"Oh for god's sake," Spike complained back. But he pushed himself up
onto his hands, looked around, then his feet were under him and he was
moving away.

Xander pouted. Now he was cold and *didn't* have a vampire on top of
him. He sat up, intending to see what his undomesticated vampire was up to.

"Hey! Lie back down," Spike called from the other room.

"Why?"

There was no answer, though. Xander could hear Spike moving stuff
around, shifting boxes and -- surely he wasn't actually unpacking boxes in
the process of looking for whatever it was he was looking for? Curiosity
starting to overcome him, he started to stand up. Spike came hurrying back
into the room, and stopped, dismayed expression on his face, when he saw
Xander getting off the floor. "Sorry," Xander muttered and settled back on
the floor, feeling guilty and slightly foolish for it. "Sorry."

"Yeah, well, I should say," Spike began, but he sounded more like he'd
just found a new toy and wanted to use it on Xander, than miffed. He came
over and dropped an armload of blankets next to Xander.

Okay, that would work to keep him warm when vampire embraces wouldn't.
"For me?"

"Not quite." Spike was down on the floor, again, and pulling blankets on
top of them, and suddenly they were rolling. When they came to a stop,
Xander found himself mummified in blankets, with Spike right back where
he'd been, before, glomming him.

"Oh," he said faintly. He could see the advantages of this. It was warm,
and it was certainly comfy, as long as Spike kept his knees from poking
him. Much better than unpacking.

"Xan?"

"Hmmm?"

"M'hot."

Xander considered swatting him, but settled for just sticking his tongue
out. "Deal."

Spike lay quietly -- for ten seconds. Then he wriggled one arm free of
the blanket-burrito.

"Now what?"

"Cooling off," Spike explained, as he wriggled free of the blankets down
to the shoulder. Apparently not caring that this freed parts of Xander
from the blankets, as well.

"You're going to make me cold again."

"You just said I should deal with being hot. I am -- by being not hot
anymore." He wriggled some more, and one leg was now exposed.

"Kinda defeating the purpose of bringing all the blankets out, if you're
just going to kick them off," Xander pointed out.

"Who was it started complaining?" Spike demanded, kicking his other --
and both of Xander's -- leg free of the blankets.

He pouted. "Fine, if you're going to kick them all off, you can find
another way of keeping me warm."

"They're not *all* off. Your tush is still all covered."

Xander reached up and tugged on Spike's ears, pulling his face down to
his. "I don't think you heard what I just said."

Spike looked at him, then blinked in slowly dawning comprehension. "Oh!"
A second later every blanket was scattered about the room, and they were
lying, naked, on the floor.

And Xander was getting cold again.

Spike grinned. "Have to warm you up, then?"

"Now you're getting it." Xander grinned back.

"Want me to go order some electric socks?"

Xander smacked him.

"Oo! Kinky." Spike leered, and leant down to kiss him. He wriggled his
ass. Xander kissed him back and obligingly smacked him again.

TBC