Chocolatey Goodness

Part 8: Pillow-Talking

rated NC-17

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Darkness in the Harris basement, and the sound of a vampire whining. How familiar. Xander Harris rolled over and peered at the bleached-blond wonder tied to the red recliner a few feet away from his bed.

"What?"

"Don't see why I have to be tied up," Spike muttered sulkily.

Xander rolled his dark eyes. "It's just while I'm sleepin'." He turned his back to the vampire again, exposing his oh-so-fashionable Scooby-Doo boxer shorts.

Spike snorted. "Like I'd bite you anyway."

Xander rolled over again to stare him in the eye. "Oh, you would." Softer… "If you could. Which you can, a little, maybe, which is probably something we should..."

"Here now, none of that. No improv, love. You're no bloody Tony Slattery. Your line is 'Oh, comma, you would. Period," Spike chided with mock-strictness.

"Damn straight I'm no Tony Slattery. He can never figure out what the party guests are. Give me Ryan Stiles any day."

Spike snarled. "Ryan Stiles. I'll give you Ryan Stiles. In fact, keep it up, the only person you'll get is Ryan Stiles." He ducked his head and went back to chewing diligently on his bonds. He was halfway through the ones binding his chest and arms to the chair.

"I dunno. Might not be so bad. He's got a pretty nice ass in those jeans," Xander teased. Spike looked up.

"Nicer than mine?" he queried nonchalantly. Well, pseudo-nonchalantly.

Neatly avoiding that snare, Xander replied, "Ah, but we digress. Umm… line?"

"Like I'd bite you anyway," Spike sighed heroically.

"Oh, you would," replied the boy in the bed, with supreme confidence.

"Not…" …gnaw, gnaw, gnaw… "bloody likely."

Smugly: "I happen to be very bitable, pal." Pause. "I'm moist, and delicious."

Without looking up from his work, Spike replied. "Well, yeah, wouldn't argue with you there. More delicious than this flippin' chocolate licorice, anyway. Think it's gone stale."

"Now who's improvisin'? Anyway, it was your idea."

"Which you protested so strongly. I believe the phrase was 'Works for me…' dopplering away as you disappeared off to the candy aisle at a quick trot." Silence. More silence. Spike glanced up. "Oh, right. You're moist and delicious, to which I say… Alright. Yeah. Fine. You're a nummy treat." There was a certain lack of sincerity in the sarcasm that was supposed to go along with that line, though. Wasn't really Oscar-level acting. Somebody might question his motivation.

"And don't you forget it." Almost triumphantly. Followed by Xander turning over and snuggling down into the pillows, not looking at the still-gnawing vampire. Which gave said vampire plenty of time to stop chomping and study the still form appreciatively.

Possibly a little too distracted… After a minute, Xander craned his head around.

"Umm, Spike, shouldn't you be out of that by now?"

Spike ducked his head again, and let his little frustrations build into one big one, his eyes flaring gold and his face doing the vampire furrow-dance. Now here were some teeth he could use… "Working on it…" he muttered shortly.

Xander propped his chin on his hands. "I think you're not trying hard enough. You just like being tied up, don't you?"

"Under the right circumstances," Spike replied honestly, biting through the last lace that bound his upper body to the chair.

"Sick, masochistic bastard."

"Damn straight. Though you're a one to talk. Course, I'm sadistic as well. Either/or. Always have been a switch." He shook vamp-face away, and began plucking at the laces that bound his legs, one…by…one…

"Like I hadn't noticed. And you wonder why I wouldn't buy you the trick handcuffs at WalMart. Which only you could figure out the trick to. I can just see me handcuffed naked to the water heater, and you scampering off into the night to go kick ass, snickering all the way. And here's me: 'Oh, hi, Mom, well, it was like this…' "

The vampire grinned. "And there's you contributing to the delinquency of a long-past-minor. Since you wouldn't buy 'em for me, I had to nick 'em. They're in the drawer. And I don't scamper. Cartoon animals scamper. The word you're looking for is 'scarper.' " Snap. Snap. One bleedin' lace at a time…

"Yeah, you say biscuit, I say cookie, you say lift, I say how high…So, does this mean you actually liked being tied up in Giles' bathtub?"

Smarmy little git. "No, it does not. Bein' hand-fed pig's blood by the Slayer while the damn cold from that porcelain seeps through my trousers and freezes my arse off. Among other important bits. No thanks, mate. By the time he shipped me off to you it was 'no, no, not the comfy chair…' "

"By the time he shipped you off to me, you were sleeping on the couch, whiny-boy. So… does that mean you actually liked being tied up here ?"

Smug bastard.

Xander rolled over and eyed the extremely naked vampire, whose face was lit with manic glee. "Oh…vampires. Nasty. Someone save me."

"Too late. In the black hole that is Xander's basement, no one can hear you scream. 'Cept me, and I don't mind at all." He leaned down and covered his victim's mouth with his, and lo, there was no screaming. After a few long kisses, or maybe just one reeeally long one: " So…chocolate sauce or chocolate flavored oil?" He fiddled with the bottles lined up on the top of the sofa-back.

"The obvious answer would be, depends on what you're planning to do with them," Xander retorted. Spike smacked him hard on the seat of his boxers, thankfully without having to clutch his own head in pain afterwards. His lover wriggled happily. Ah, good intentions. Why hadn't he known they were so bloody helpful years ago?

"Incorrect. Please try again."

"Er…both? And ouch, for the record."

"Very good. You took the punishment, you get the prize."

"Which is?"

Spike's turn to roll his eyes, and gesture down the length of his pale body. "The glory that you see before you."

Xander burst into laughter. "You really are fulla yourself, aren't you?" Not that he seemed to be complaining, as he reached out a hand to trace a line down Spike's hairless chest.

"Well," Spike said thoughtfully, opening the bottle of chocolate flavored oil, "the other option would be me being full o' you. Or vice versa."

"Hmmm… decisions, decisions…what's behind Door Number Three?" his lover asked teasingly, squirming around as he tugged his boxers off.

"My boot up your arse, wanker."

"Ooh, Spike, you say the sweetest things. Well, in that case…"

"Too late. Choice made. You forfeit," Spike spat out, pulling the other man on top of him and running an oil-covered hand over Xander's chest and stomach, eventually making it down to the warm cock that was already jutting out at him.

Xander smiled. "I'll try not to be too disappointed."

***

And a few long minutes later, as the dark-haired human was slowly entering the vampire, and Spike was grinning up at him like a drunken ferret, the real torture began.

"So, you still think Ryan Stiles has a nicer arse than mine?" Said arse being fondled appreciatively by two busy hands, and raised off the bed by virtue of Spike's ankles wrapped snakelike around the younger man's shoulders.

Groan. "You…always talk…this much?" Xander ground out, throwing Spike's own words back in his face, and reaching for the vampire's penis with one hand, only partially in an attempt to make him incoherent.

As the (very fast-learning) young man began to pump Spike's (only too happy to be a visual-aid) shaft, in time with his own accelerated pistoning in and out, Spike tried to decide between "Just call me William Rosenberg" and "You didn't answer the bloody question, did you?" The need for a decision was removed when he realized that about the only sounds capable of escaping from his mouth were decidedly non-English vocalizations.

***

More than a few long minutes later, Spike was slowly licking the last traces of chocolate sauce off Xander's right nipple, and seriously considering slipping out of bed to retrieve some of those broken chocolate laces, for bow-tying purposes. But Xander was looking a bit knackered, so maybe now would be the time to lie low, relax, lick his lips, lean his head on his lover's flat stomach, and…

"So, Ryan Stiles. Geeky Yank with a big nose and no sense of comedic timing. Nicer arse than mine?"

Xander thumped him on the head.

"Oi!" he protested, and warm hands began to gently rub the spot where he'd been hit.

"No. Not nicer than yours. Now shut up. Hush. If we're playing this game right, there's no dialogue left. "

"Well, not quite. There's 'Xander…don't you care about me?' "

"Possibly. Shut up."

"We never talk."

"You talk all the time. Shut up."

"Xan---der…" Spike sang, suppressing a giggle.

"That's it." Xander put a chocolate-smeared hand firmly over Spike's mouth. "Shut up. Geez, where's a bunch of voice-stealing fairytale undertakers when you need 'em?"

Spike smiled as he snaked out his tongue to lick the palm of Xander's hand. Then frowned. Didn't that lot steal hearts, too? He was sure… but by the rules of the game, he wasn't allowed to ask. So instead he reached round behind him and concentrated on tying a one-handed knot with the single chocolate lace he'd managed to sneak out of the pile of supplies on the sofa-back. He could get used to this.