TITLE: Canned Heat

AUTHOR: Odie

E-MAIL: Odie42@yahoo.com

RATING: NC-17

DISCLAIMER: Joss's. Unfortunately.

SPOILERS: None. Chipless Spike.

SUMMARY: Spike and Xander go patrolling and Spikey-boy gets bored... Spike/Xander, implied Giles/Xander.

DISTRIBUTION: The Crowded House http://dsturku.net/odie (Kate! Note the new addy!), UCSL. I am gladly accepting further archive requests.

FEEDBACK: Yes. My mailbox needs a life. Badly.

DEDICATION: To Omie (Spike sniffs!) and Susie, 'cause I haven't been writing in ages, and to my cats, who actively tried to sabotage my attempts to do so now.

NOTES: Inspired by a challenge on some Spike slash list, which I read in passing. To me, Spike is, has been, and always will be a bad-ass vampire. I live under the impression that the phone booth doors in USA open inwards. Why do all my fics turn into G/X?


Canned Heat
by Odie

"Why, oh why, I'm the one who *always* gets stuck with you when on patrol?"

"Because you'd be vampy food in seconds without me. Or," Spike added, "they just want to torture me. Aren't you *ever* quiet?"

Xander looked hurt. "I can be quiet. I do quiet all the time. I live on quiet."

"Then why is your mouth still moving and sound coming out?"

"Well okay then." Xander glared at Spike and shut up. They walked in silence for almost three minutes, until they came up with a telephone booth.

"I better call G-Man, to ask how his research is going."

"And again with the talking." Spike sniffed. "You got it quite bad for the old man, don't you?"

Xander looked at him from under his brows, deliberately turning his face in shadow to hide his blush. "What's that s'posed to mean?"

"Giles. You know, the Watcher chap."

"Yes?" His face felt like it would spontaneously combust any second.

"Don't think for a second I haven't noticed you drooling over him like a lovesick puppy. Rather sickening, I find." Spike made a face.

"You're not serious."

"Dead serious, pardon the expression."

Xander turned back, a little too stiffly for casual. "Like you would know anything anyway."

"Excuse me? I've lived for 126 years, I think that amounts to some credit. I can se what's there, luv."

"Or a lot of what's not, apparently." He picked up the receiver and listened to the empty hum. "Oh damn. Broken."

"Damn? What kind of a swearword is damn? You've spent too much time with birds and the goody two shoes Brit. Would your head explode or somethin' if you said a proper dirty word?"

"Like bugger, you mean? Or bollocks?"

"Hey, don't mock my language, Mister Z's for S's! You Americas butcher English."

"You sound like Giles."

"And how amazingly happy that makes you." He sighed. "Today's been really boring. I want to do something exciting."

"You know what Buffy will do if you kill someone. It's amazing what she can do with mere piece of string and a pair of rubber gloves."

"Spoil sport. I just got a thought from that telephone booth... I loved the fifties. Young blokes did a lot of squeezing into phone booths. It was great, I could pick them one by one like fruits from a basket... I made ten kills on one Friday night and I didn't have to lift a finger. Of course, I was sick as a dog for the whole day, but it was worth it."

"Ah, the memories," Xander muttered sardonically, but his natural curiosity had arisen. "How could they squeeze in a place like this? I can hardly fit myself in here."

"The best I saw was five blokes in one booth. Here, I'll show you..." Before Xander could stop him, Spike had opened the door and was cramming himself in. "Jeez, you gained weight lately? Suck your stomach in."

"Should we agree on some kind of hand signal when the question is rhetorical? I didn't mean you should *show* me!"

"This illustrates the point better. Move a little bit to the left... right. No, no, stay where you are! Yes." The door went 'click' as it closed. "Like this."

"And they did this voluntarily? I can hardly breathe."

"Could you quit whining for at least a few seconds? Hey, did you notice that this phone sound exactly the same as seashells when you hold them against your ear?"

"No, for some reason I didn't have time to make such refined biological observations could you please move? Your stake is digging into my thigh."

"OK, if it makes you shut up." He twisted around, now facing Xander. The boy shuddered.

"You're like a human-sized icicle. I'm freezing."

Spike cocked his head. "And you have something unfortunate hanging out from your nose."

Xander blushed, squeezing his hand between the two, trying to fish a handkerchief from his pocket. Spike grinned like Billy Idol when the boy's hand brushed against his private parts."Ooh baby... That feels good."

"Don't get overexcited, OK? I'll just blow my nose and we'll get outta here."

"I can think of more satisfactory places for you to blow..." Spike said from under his nonexistent breath.

Xander disregarded the last comment with a mere deepening of his blush and wiped his nasal equipment. "Now, out."

Spike gave the door a firm tuck, but it held on pretty firmly. "Fuck."

"What? What?!"

"It's stuck."

"You got to be kidding. Let me try." Xander gave it a good yank, jamming his elbow between Spike's ribs. He vamped from the sudden pain, making Xander let go and retreat into the opposite corner really hastily. Meaning that he moved back a whopping quarter of a millimetre.

Spike's game face melted. "Don't do that again." Xander tried to cross his arms, but gave up when he had hurt his elbows twice on the walls. "Now what?"

"We'll break out." Spike raised his knee to aim, but Xander stopped him just in time. "Broken glass. You vampire, me human. *Way* to much bleeding possibilities."

Spike gave him a pouty face. "You really *are* a spoil sport. You have any suggestions, then?"

"No... You?"

"I'd hate to even think of it, but there's always the Samuel Beckett alternative."

"What, hoping that he jumps into your body and gets us out of here?"

Spike sighed. "Americans. Not him, the other Beckett. Waiting for Godot. Or, in this case, for someone to come and rescue us."

"Wait?"

"Yes."

"In here?"

"Still yes."

"With you?"

"Guess what? Yes."

"Oh God."

"Never thought of you as a religious type."

Xander ignored Spike's smart-ass comment, and his grin, and straightened himself. "Could you move at least a little bit? This receiver is getting *way* too personal."

"No can do, luv. I'm in here just as tightly as you are."

Xander sighed. "I'm bored. You didn't happen to bring along a Gameboy or something?"

"For some reason, no."

"Wanna play Rock Paper Scissors, then?"

"People still play that game? Unbelievable."

"Well, do *you* have any better suggestions, Mister 19th Century?"

"I may be from nineteenth century, but at least back then people knew how to have fun."

Xander tried to cross his arms, but once again didn't succeed. He let out a frustrated breath. "Any ideas, then? Disembowelling, torture and bonfires aside?"

"We could always ask embarrassing questions from each others."

"You're suggesting male bonding?"

"Why not? I already can count the change in your pocket without using my hands. It can't get any more humiliating than this."

"You'd wish," Xander muttered. "Okay. You go first."

"Hm... Your first kiss?"

"That's easy. Willow. She was the only girl in many, many, many years to get that near to me. We were both five at the time. Yours?"

"Let's see... I was twenty-one at the time, so..."

"Twenty-one?" Xander interrupted.

"Hey, give me a break! It was the 1890's, times were different then." Spike made a sulky face.

"All right, I'm sorry. Go on."

"1895, to be exact. Her name was Lucille Parker. We were supposed to get married."

"What happened?"

"Angelus."

"Oh."

"You don't have to 'Oh' me. Bloody better for me anyway. Embarrassing to say, but I was a real wimp. Much like you nowadays."

"Hey! No need to get insulting."

"Wasn't an insult, luv, just a 'refined biological observation', as you put it. So, there was Angelus. And very little girlie action from there on for quite a while. Until Dru," Spike sighed. "Man, I miss her."

"Whaddya mean, 'very little girlie action'?"

"I mean, Angelus is a pretty possessive bloke. Didn't like to share me."

"Share you? For what? No one can be *that* possessive. It's not like you two... oh." Colour drained from Xander's face as he realised the point Spike was making.

"Yeah, didn't you know? Your Slayer's old loverboy is a bit of a pouf. And a pretty enthusiastic too, at that. He loved being a bottom. Although he was a spectacular top, too," the blonde grinned at the memory.

The colour had returned to Xander's face with a full force, he was blushing to a pretty painful extent. Ignoring him, Spike went on. "And sometimes, we would spend an entire day sucking each others and leave to hunt at nightfall. And could that boy suck! Had a mouth like a bloody Hoover. Believe me, you've never had proper head before getting from a vampire."

Xander suddenly realised his hands were freezing cold, and it wasn't because of the proximity of a circulationless being. Or actually... As ashamed he was about it, the reason all his blood was packed in his face and in his groin was Spike. He was arousing Xander with his stupid sex stories and his manly body and his musky male scent and his godlike cheekbones... *Stop it!* Xander slapped himself mentally on the face. *Think girls. Think Buffy. Think naked Buffy. With naked Willow. Girls. Girls. Girls and girls. Girls and girls and boys. Girls and boys. Boys and boys. Boys and boys and lots of lubricant... No, Xander! STOP it!*

Too late. As much as the idea troubled him, it was no denying that he was packing a hard-on of the century, caused by none other than the badass vampy Spike. Who, incidentally, had come back from his trip to Memory Lane and was now sporting the biggest shit-eating grin Xander had ever seen.

"Xander... A hard-on! I didn't know you cared," he said, pushing his hips forward. In all his embarrassment and confusion, Xander noticed another hardness leaping out pretty quickly to match his.

"Spike!" he squealed. "Gerroff me, I... you... vampire... *boy*..." Spike clamped his mouth to Xander's, effectively silencing him. Despite himself, Xander noticed himself responding, to the most magnificent kiss of all his life. Spike was all firm, manly yet soft lips and also funnily cold, something he'd never experienced in the living. As a soft, wet tongue tickled his lips, Xander eagerly opened wide and let this soft ice explore his mouth. His own hot tongue felt like Colonel Peary in Spike's arctic cave. He caught himself thinking if Spike's North Pole would be just as cold in his mouth...

Xander whimpered when Spike pulled away. "Well bugger me," he smirked. "I finally found a way to make you shut your talking hole. All I need to do now..." he started inching his way lower with some difficulty "..is to teach you to make the proper kind of noise..." He indeed had managed to slide on his knees in front of Xander, and was now facing the Mount Everest in Xander's pants. Ignoring the boy's feeble yelps of protest, he unzipped Xander's pants and pulled them and his boxers down and was nose to nose, so to speak, with Xander's hard and slightly reddened cock.

"Christ," he breathed. "If I had known you were panting for it this bad, I'd done this ages ago."

"Done *what*?" Xander tried to yelp, but found that his voice got stuck somewhere around his throat. The blonde chuckled.

"YEOAW!" Xander yelled, as Spike's icy tongue ran along the length of his shaft. More out of surprise than anything else, since it did feel rather pleasant... Like being licked by a wave. He tickled Xander's length with stunning expertise, teasing the poor confused and ecstatic boy before slipping his cock into his mouth.

"Ghaah..." Xander's knees bucked as Spike slurped away. Boy sex did have its pros... And Spike did suck like a madman. And being a vampire, he apparently didn't have a gag reflex at all, and could take him really *deep*. The combined warm/cold sensations, the firm pressure and, let's face it, the hotness that is Spike, was feeling really go-ood--- (If... he... goes... on... like... this... I'll... )

"Ooowaaahhh!!" Xander spurted hot come at the back of Spike's throat while the vampire twirled his tongue along the tip, prolonging Xander's spectacularly loud orgasm even more. Spike swallowed with zest, and looked up at the panting boy.

"Fucker," Xander breathed through his post-orgasmic haze. Spike grinned.

"Why, thank you. Seems like you *can* swear properly if stimulated enough." He tucked Xander's already limp cock back into his pants and zipped up. "Say 'Thank you, Master'."

"Blow me."

"Thought I just did."

"Ha ha. Still any ideas how we can get out of here?"

"No. And why should I, with all the fun we're having?"

Xander's scathing reply was drowned by the sound of breaking acrylic. The door gave, making Spike fall head over heels on the pavement, and looking up Buffy's nostrils.

"Are you OK?" Willow asked. "We heard you."

"Heard us?" Xander blushed vigorously.

"Yeah, bickering like there's no tomorrow," Buffy said. "Honestly. What were you doing in there anyway?"

"Being stuck, thanks to the history wonk," Xander replied, pointing to the vampire who was steadying himself against the broken door.

"Have you found anything?"

"Inside a phone booth? No."

"Nor have we, though I daresay we've been more efficient. Wanna continue with us?"

Spike winked at Xander behind the girl's backs, rubbing at his hard-on through his straining jeans. Xander was trying to make stealthy hints for him to stop, making him look rather like he was yawning with his mouth shut. "Um, no, no! We couldn't possibly hinder you! Go! Just go!" Xander ushered Spike away, doing his best to hide the vampire's arousal. "See you back at Giles's!"

Buffy shrugged. "Oh-kay then... Good luck."

Out of earshot, Xander groaned. "God! You're going to be the death of me someday."

"Probably," Spike grinned, grabbing his bulge once more.



The End...?