PART 6 - Careless Whisper
The cab ride home had done little to dull Xander's arousal and listening
to the radio had only made things worse. Of all possible songs in the world it
had to play “Behind Blue Eyes” by The Who. Its lyrics had directed his thoughts
back to the vampire's eyes and the sad need in them. And when that song was
followed by Frankie Goes To Hollywood and "Relax" it was too late to
ask the driver to change stations. Xander's mind was already in the gutter and
he found himself replaying the moment, when Spike had sensuously licked his
fingers. It had been the most erotic thing he had ever seen and he had no idea
why he felt this way.
It seemed to be impossible to get rid of that image. Whenever he pushed
it out of his mind, it returned seconds later and sent a tingle to his groin.
And when he foolishly drifted into the fantasy of the vampire's mouth and
tongue touching him intimately, desire
hit him like a sledgehammer.
This was so not good!
He paid the cab driver and stumbled into the apartment, fumbling
awkwardly with the lock.
Anya was fast asleep, as expected. Xander bent over her and tenderly
brushed a strand of hair out of her lovely face. The bed was warm and inviting
and snuggling up to Anya seemed like a really good idea. But not yet. As quietly
as he could he tiptoed to the bathroom. He was still too restless and
disconcerted about what had happened - or not happened - between him and Spike.
He looked into the mirror to investigate the cut at his brow. It looked like it
was already healing. That was good. The huge blood stain that covered his whole
shoulder and reached down part of the sleeve was not good. It felt sticky, not
yet fully dried.
He quickly stripped off all his clothes and stepped under the shower.
The hot water eased some of the tension from his body. He was shampooing
his hair, gently coaxing the dried blood out of it, when his mind began to
drift into unforeseen directions... *I wonder where Spike washes or
showers...* He grimaced. How did that peroxided vampire manage to sneak
into his thoughts again? He adjusted the water temperature. A little bit colder
was probably better.
When he was done in the shower, he stepped to the sink to brush his
teeth. He found himself wondering if Spike ever brushed his teeth. *His
fangs!* Maybe he was flossing in the shower at this very moment. Probably
not, since the crypt didn't seem to have running water…and what was it with
this one-track mind of his? Why did all thoughts center on Spike? When Xander
was so not gay!
He dumped his blood stained clothes into the sink and turned on the cold
tap. If Anya were to see the size of that stain she'd freak and ask him endless
questions. Eventually he'd end up telling her about what had happened and the
next day he'd probably read it in the Sunnydale paper. Anya and discretion
really didn't mix. And he so didn't want to talk to Buffy about this. What was
it Buffy had said? "I'm not having sex with Spike, but I am beginning to
think that you are." Better not
give that train of thought any new fuel.
He sprinkled some detergent into the cold water and stirred it with his
hands, trying to make the powder dissolve properly. He gave the shirt a
tentative rub. The water turned pink. Well this certainly wasn't the first
time, he had washed blood out of his clothes.
*Okay, everything under control here.* His dick had thankfully gone soft again,
lulled to sleep by this intentionally boring domestic activity.
Time for an experiment. He'd just use his imagination, play a few
scenarios in his head, because he HAD to know. Perhaps he should wait till he
was sober? *Nah, I'd never try this sober.*
He was not attracted to men, or he would have noticed by now, wouldn't
he? He closed his eyes, trying to imagine himself kissing and groping - *Stop!
No groping. Just kissing.* - another man, daring himself to be aroused.
*Hmm. Oz, No. Um, Giles - Ew, no way! Riley, well, he's got nice arms,
but no definitely not. Ben, not in a million years. Larry, no. Jonathon. no.
Okay, see, not gay. Totally not gay. Dracula, he doesn't count, because of that
thrall thing. Well, then there's Angel. Ew. Wait... perhaps-not-totally-ew.* He hesitated a
moment and then plunged right into the next fantasy. *Spike... yeah...*
He shuddered when suddenly a cold hand touched his dick, which was now
very much awake again. It was like a jolt of electricity and he realised dimly
that it was his own hand that was stroking his hot flesh. But in his mind's eye
it was a strong pale hand, Spike's fist, that was wrapped around his cock and
pleasuring him.
Xander leaned against the bathroom wall, and began to pump. He heard
himself groan, but the sound seemed to come from far away. In his fantasy soft lips
joined strong fingers and Xander imagined himself thrusting into the vampire’s cool
mouth.
This was hot. *Harder. Yes.* His movements became more frantic. *Wow,
this feels good.* He was panting. "Suck me, yeah... Spike, I want... you...oh yeah..." He
tensed in shock. Hearing himself hoarsely whisper the vampire's name snapped
him out of his fantasy.
*Oh no!*
He withdrew his hand as if he had burnt himself. Part of him was
horrified at the intensity of his arousal. Another part of him said *Looks
like you fancy a man. So what?* but the voice had a British accent and
sounded suspiciously like Spike, so that didn't count.
He was hit by the absurdity of the situation. Here he was, more or less
hiding in his own bathroom, fantasizing about an undead man, a vampire who had
repeatedly wanted to see him dead. Why was he masturbating - something he
hadn't done in almost two years - when his very desirable girlfriend was
sleeping in the next room?
Why Spike? What was it that bleached nuisance had that the others
lacked? That was an easy question. *I know this!* Bony ridges over his
bestial eyes and exceptionally sharp teeth, that's what. Plus a history as a
killer and unsavoury eating habits. Vampires were supposed to possess uncanny
seductive powers, weren't they?
What about other vampires? Female ones. *That blond one, Angel's
sire? Didn't leave much of an impression. Harmony? Hasn't really improved in
undeath. Drusilla? Ew, too insane to be a turn on.* He was running out of
female vampires fast. But there were bound to be really attractive ones around
somewhere. He just hadn't met them, that was all.
Xander looked at his persistent erection disapprovingly. He folded his
arms in front of his chest and decided to ignore it. He was not going to jerk
off fantasizing about Spike. *No way!* He'd just go to bed and try to think of something boring. Like
that chick flick, "The Bridges of Madison County". Yeah, that was a
good turn off. Tomorrow, when he was more sober, and after a good night sleep
he'd plead temporary insanity and just get on with his life. *Tomorrow I'll
realize I'm totally. Not. Gay.*
After all, nothing had happened. Nothing at all.