Festival!Verse 5

Xander felt–faannntastic.

A little sore in the ass, sure, but everywhere else? Loose and tingly. He was a new man.

He figured they had to all know. Well, hell, just from past history with Spike alone they had to know, but he was way too chipper today for it not to be obvious besides. They all took his Tigger–like antics with amusement. Darla sneered at him a little, but who gave a shit about her anyway. Everyone else just seemed to think he was funny.

Xander was in the middle of an over–animated conversation with Willow when Oz came up behind him.

"Wanna smoke?"

Xander turned to see Oz, looking back at him without real facial expression. Xander wondered if this was Oz´s chilled–out way of telling him to calm the fuck down. Maybe, but he wasn´t offended. It was impossible to be offended by Oz.

"Sure." Xander was up for anything. Trying new things? Of the good. Sure as hell working for him so far. Keep ´em coming. Ha! Coming.

Oz smiled a languid cat–smile while Xander babbled at himself, and nodded his head towards the woods. "It´s the good stuff," he said just before he turned and walked in that direction. "They´re all a bunch of moochers."

Xander didn´t ask why he got to be the one to share, because Oz was sparing with the words, and it made Xander want to be that way too, if only so he could be as cool as Oz. So he just followed Oz into the woods, without talking.

They settled into a little grassy spot, away from other people. Oz retrieved paraphernalia from his own pockets, and Xander noticed with interest that this time the leaves were kind of purple–ish.

He mentioned this to Oz, in as few words as he could muster.

"Quality, my friend," Oz said. Yup, Oz was the King of Laconicdom.

It seemed that Oz was intent on learnin´ Xander a thing or two about the ganj, however, because he began making instructive little sidebars as he ´packed the bowl.´ Xander was thinking about what a good teacher Oz would make–patient–until he started thinking about what Oz was teaching him, and then he started giggling at the thought of Oz as a pillar of the community.

Oz gave him an amused side–eye. "Not even high, yet."

Oz never made him feel stupid or self–conscious about being clueless. When the bowl was packed, Oz demonstrated how to take a take a hit, soliloquizing in shorthand about what to do with the carb, and how to ´cheat the green.´ When Xander couldn´t even get the lighter to work, Oz didn´t make fun of him. He just scooted closer to Xander in the grass and showed him.

Xander hardly coughed this time, which made him a little sad for his lungs. This stuff tasted different–better–and went straight to his head. He and Oz each took another hit, and Xander practiced with the lighter distantly.

Oz smiled at him, small and smug. "Good?"

Xander considered the leafy light on the grass all around them. He nodded.

"How do you, um...." Xander searched for the words. "You know, when Spike gave me his smoke?"

Oz´s smile widened. "Shotgun?"

Realizing suddenly that Oz thought he´d been hinting, Xander´s cheeks flushed, and he hummed an agreement. He felt a little warm at the idea of kissing Oz.

Oz offered him the pipe and lighter. "Easy. Just take a hit, and then exhale into my mouth. Gently."

Xander blinked at him for a moment, then took the pipe from Oz´s hand. He was so nervous, he could hardly light the bowl. It was silly–it wasn´t even a kiss, and considering what he´d done with Spike...but it felt like starting from scratch all over again, with someone different. Nerve–wracking.

Xander took a hit and then turned to Oz. He hesitated, but Oz leaned in, chasing the smoke that was escaping Xander´s mouth. Oz´s lips felt cool and light, pressed to Xander´s, and Xander thought it felt like an actual kiss.

And then Oz´s tongue flickered at the entrance of Xander´s lips, and Xander knew it felt like a kiss. His heart thudded hard, and his groin warmed with interest.

Xander pulled away, uncertain, and looked around, but no one they knew was nearby. Oz guided his face back around.

"It´s alright, man," Oz said, and it didn´t sound coaxing like it would coming from Spike. It just sounded like...a fact. That it was alright, if they kissed. No bigger a deal than smoking together.

So Xander let Oz kiss him again.

Oz–kisses were really different from Spike–kisses. Oz´s kiss didn´t demand, or persuade, or soothe, or seem to have any intention other than just...a kiss. A meeting of mouths. Soft and gentle and really, really nice. Nice enough that Xander´s cock was getting interested, in a lazy kind of way.

Xander could make a hobby out of kissing Oz. It was...calming.

Until Xander heard Spike clearing his throat.

Xander jerked back, eyes flitting guiltily back and forth between Spike and Oz. Anxious at being caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. Oz, the cookie in question, was no help. He hadn´t moved at all, but Xander got the distinct impression he was shrugging.

"Uhh..."

For an almost indefinable moment, it seemed that Spike was going to be angry. Then suddenly, he wasn´t, and Xander didn´t know why. Maybe Spike couldn´t be offended at Oz any more than Xander could. Or maybe there was something else going on, that Xander didn´t understand.

Wouldn´t surprise him.

Instead of getting mad, Spike just gave him the patented look, the leering sex look, and Xander´s partial erection from kissing Oz was suddenly a whole lot less partial. Spike held out a hand to help Xander off the ground, and Xander just looked at it, and then looked at Oz. Oz shrugged, unruffled.

"Uh. Where are we going?" Xander had a sudden image of Spike taking him over his knee and spanking him for kissing someone else. He turned crimson, and Spike cocked a brow inquiringly, but Xander wasn´t about to admit to that little...fantasy?

"Feelin´ a bit filthy," was all Spike said.

Xander gaped, head feeling just a little swimmy with smoke. "W–what?" A glance at Oz revealed the barest smile, of supreme amusement. Smoke curled around his head of purple hair regally, like the caterpillar you always saw on the blacklight posters.

Xander looked back to Spike, who blinked at him slowly. Spike was even sexy when he blinked. How was that possible? "Shower," Spike clarified, smirking.

"Oh. I didn´t know there were showers." Now that he mentioned it, Xander felt pretty rank. He could do with some soap, three days into sweating and drinking and...other stuff.

Spike shrugged. "They´re pay, but it´s worth a bit o´ dosh."

Xander let himself be pulled to his feet. "Oh. Well let me just go get some mon–"

Spike sighed, rolled his eyes, and yanked him away by the hand. Xander looked back dazedly at Oz as he was dragged towards the fairground buildings. Oz waved, and then Xander stumbled over a bush and was forced to face forward.

"I didn´t think they had showers." Hadn´t he already said that? Jeez, Harris, you´re lame.

Spike spared him a look. "Didn´t used to," he agreed. "Think some fat rich bastard complained about public health hazards to the unwashed masses. Used to get pretty feral out here, by day seven."

Xander cringed at the thought of that.

When they arrived at the pay counter, Spike tried to explain to the shower attendant that they only needed to pay for one shower, since they´d be in it together. The boy behind the counter looked slyly from Spike to Xander, and Xander wanted to die.

"Showers are $3 per person, not by the showerhead." The kid leered like a little weasel. "Besides, I have a feeling you´ll use your fair share of water."

For one mortifying moment, Xander thought Spike was going to haggle. But then he grinned without a trace of shame, and did that sexy thing with his tongue. "Fair enough. Two showers, then, and we´ll need towels and a bar of soap as well." Spike´s eyes slid blatantly down Xander´s body. "Gotta get the boy clean, properly."

The shower guy smirked and handed over the towels, and Xander felt horny and embarrassed and a little homicidal, all at the same time. Spike slapped a $10 onto the counter, and pulled Xander into the muggy entrance to the men´s showers.

Xander felt really odd undressing in front of Spike in the florescent light of the little shower stall, without kissing or anything. Like, clinical. Except that Xander´s feelings towards Spike´s naked body were anything but hypocratic. He´d never really seen Spike naked in good light, and he was just...he got hotter every time Xander looked at him. The delineated lines that ran across Spike´s hips practically forced Xander to look at his cock, and when he turned around...that ass. Xander really coveted that ass.

Even though there wasn´t a chance in hell he´d ever get to go there, a boy could dream.

Not that the other end of things was disagreeable. It made Xander breath a little harder when Spike put a condom and some lube on the soap tray.

At first, they just showered, like Xander would shower any old day. Except with a lot less self–touching (even though he was hard), and a lot more surreptitious glances to the guy in the shower with him (because hello, there was a guy in the shower with him).

It felt really amazing to get all of the sweat and dirt and come off his skin and hair. Xander hadn´t even realized how dirty he was until he started washing it all off, and for a while, eyes closed, Xander forgot about everything except that sensation.

Xander was about to rinse the shampoo out when he suddenly felt Spike´s body really close–not touching him, but Xander could feel the energy of his closeness humming along his skin. He squeaked when he opened his eyes...because Spike was right there, eyes fixed intensely on Xander´s face. Spike pulled Xander into him with an arm around his back, bending Xander back and rinsed the shampoo out for him with scalp–massaging fingers and scrape–y teeth on Xander´s throat. Xander wasn´t sure the teeth were necessary for his hygiene, but he didn´t smart off, because–

Xander was a limp little puddle of goo, every place but one.

Spike was hard too, and was rubbing his cock against Xander´s hip. The shampoo–dispatching hand slid down to squeeze Xander´s ass, holding his hips still so their bodies slid together on a film of soap. There was a fantastic lack of friction going between them, and Xander was struggling to pull in enough oxygen from the thick, humid air.

Xander´s body was bowed back at an angle that might have been unpleasant, if his brains weren´t so thoroughly in his very happy cock. Spike manipulated the soft flap of his earlobe with teeth and tongue, and Xander´s breath hitched.

Spike´s hand was gone from his ass for a moment, and then it came back soapy, one finger slipping inside of Xander, where he had been too shy to wash himself. He whimpered and shuddered against Spike, discomfort mingling with and overwhelmed by pleasure. If pressed, he couldn´t say which sensation had caused the noise, but the gentle thrusting felt just as good as it had the night before, despite his soreness. Then Spike´s fingers found that holy grail that Xander hadn´t known was hidden up his own ass before he met Spike. Xander moaned and if possible, melted a little more.

Spike´s voice was smug and deep in his ear. "That´s right, pet. Relax and trust old Spike. Took good care of you last night, didn´t I?" A naughty tongue squiggled against the soft point of Xander´s jaw.

Xander nodded through a haze of pleasure. Spike had taken care of him last night, so much more so than Xander had expected. He still didn´t know if trust was really the word for it, but...in a way he did. As much as you could trust someone you´d known three days. Spike hadn´t hurt him yet. He´d even been kind of...deferential last night, though right now Xander was wondering if that had been a limited time offer, because Spike was now being pushy. Really pushy. Ohhh god, pushy in allll the right places, and Xander? He was pushed, and pleased to be. Yessir.

Xander was happy to play along like a good little puppy, because...if Spike had a functional hygiene–related purpose to what he was doing, it was really well hidden under the brain–scrambling number he was doing on Xander´s prostate.

Suddenly the world tilted as Spike let go and spun Xander´s body under the shower head. Xander barely had time to prevent his head from hitting tile–his arms shot out to smack against the wall just as Spike´s arm banded around his waist, and Xander realized he hadn´t been concussion–bound after all.

"Don´t move," Spike growled. Then the water was running freely over Xander´s back because Spike was gone.

"Wha–?" Xander looked over his shoulder but his hips were held immobile and Spike was squatting on the ground for some reason. "Spike what are you...ohhhhh fuck. Holy mother of...god. That ain´t right. That´s...ohhhh, I take it back. Right. Right there."

There was a tongue. There was a tongue in places where Xander never ever ever thought a tongue wouldcouldshould go. Xander´s breathing was labored as his head dropped onto his forearm against the wall, and he bent over further, politely spreading his legs.

Spike chuckled against his ass. The sound made the slick, undulating muscle vibrate inside of him, and Xander whimpered, moving his hips back in the direction of Spike´s face.

Spike´s tongue started thrusting. Fucking into him. His hands were sliding up the insides of Xander´s thighs, and Xander´s legs were shaking. He was pretty sure he was talking, but he didn´t have a clue what was coming out of his own mouth, because his brain was now in gelatin form.

Having a tongue in there was so completely different than fingers, or a cock. It was soft and yielding, and it sort of soothed over Xander´s soreness, while simultaneously setting off high–wattage sparks in Xander´s brain...even before Spike started tapping against his prostate. Electrocution by tonguing.

God.

By the time Spike stood, Xander was shaking all over, and his mind was one giant buzz of white noise. There was a clatter and a click, and then smoothly entering fingers were stretching his muscles and Spike was pressed to his back. One hand roamed supportively over his chest, dallying over his nipple.

Spike bit his shoulder blade lightly. "Still with me, pet?"

Xander drew a breath and tried to stop shaking, and focus. "Yeah."

He heard, and felt, a little huff of laughter against his back. "Enjoy that, then?"

Bastard already knew the answer. Xander just nodded against the tile. Spike´s fingers continued to massage his flesh open, almost professionally.

"Told you I´d take good care of you, didn´t I?" The voice was close and self–satisfied, and didn´t seem to require any kind of answer except the one Xander made in his throat, involuntarily. "Daddy knows. So sensitive." Xander shuddered again at the words, and the tongue caressing the curve of his ear. The tongue that had been...oh god.

Then Xander was empty, and he felt too...shaky, or shy, to do anything other than keep his head buried in his arms when he heard Spike opening a condom. These places must have really great water–heaters, because the shower was still really warm, and wow that was so not the point here. Before Xander could complete his babble, there was a firm hand on his hip, and Spike´s cock (which was the point here) was there, ready to edge forward. Xander arched his back in anticipation and tried really hard not to tense up, and Spike stroked a hand over his water–slick skin in reward.

It was a little easier, taking Spike this time, but not by much. Xander thought it was kind of like giving birth in reverse, with the wrong equipment. He was sure any girl would tell him that this was really nothing compared to that, and he was being a wimp. Pondering this, in a delirious way, distracted him nicely and before he knew it, Spike was all the way inside.

Spike was unmoving, molded against his back from thigh to shoulder, where he was kissing and licking and biting the flowing water off the nape of Xander´s neck. One of his arms was locked tight around Xander´s waist.

Xander was breathing so hard, it felt as though Spike weren´t breathing at all, by comparison.

He felt like Spike was waiting for something. "I´m ok," he said finally, and just like that, Spike started to move. Pulled back and pounded into Xander and the force of it tapped his head against the wall, and he shifted back. Xander braced himself, head hanging down, water dripping from his too–long hair.

Spike gripped Xander´s hips with firm hands as he began to really pump into him. Xander tried to muffle the sounds coming from his throat, but this felt really good, and he just couldn´t. Spike was breathing hard through his mouth, occasionally making these little satisfied purring noises that were...oh god. Was it possible to come just from the sounds someone was making?

Xander began to push back against Spike, just because it felt right–necessary, even–and that´s when Spike really groaned. Xander´s movements were out–of–rhythm, against Spike´s thrusts instead of with them, and Xander didn´t know if that was right, but it felt....

"Ohh, fuck yeah, pet. Fuck yourself onto my cock. Beautiful. That´s so bloody sexy."

Blood rushed away from Xander´s heart, surging simultaneously towards his cock and his face. How was it even possible for Xander to blush anymore? He was going to blow out all the blood vessels in his face and become one big cherry and ok, bad choice of words, but Xander really really hoped no one else was in here because now Spike was saying really obscene things, and the slap of flesh on flesh was unmistakable.

And then it really didn´t matter because when Spike wrapped a hand around his cock and started to pull him off in rough tugs, everything went kind of white–gray and silent, and Xander came all over the wall, vocal cords vibrating in a rough shout. Xander watched, detached, as his come was swept down the drain...trying hard to stay on his feet. Spike ground into him as he came, shuddering and snarling out a few choice words that made Xander´s ears hot.

Spike was slumped against his back, and they were both panting in the cooling water. Now that they weren´t moving, Xander could hear other people moving around in the chamber, and he thought that if he was lucky, he could just live in here forever and never ever have to face them. These strangers that had just heard Spike fuck him.

"Fuck. Me." Spike panted finally.

Xander didn´t move. "Given enough recovery time, I might be able to pull it off. But I´d need an hour or three."

Spike, who clearly had more energy than Xander could fathom, laughed with glee and pulled out, smacking Xander on the ass.

Xander still didn´t move. Didn´t think he could.

"Very unlikely, but I admire your youthful optimism."

Xander could hear Spike pulling aside the curtain and moving into the little antechamber to towel off and get dressed.

"Come on, pet, we´re going to miss my favorite band if you don´t move your pretty arse. Not that I don´t appreciate the view."

Groaning, Xander straightened and gave his lower body another pass under the cold water, rinsing off. He stood under the spray for a little longer. When he opened his eyes, Spike was watching him intently.

"I like the look of you, all shagged out." Spike pulled him out of the water, leaning in close to murmur in his ear. "If they´re not all jealous, pet, they bloody well should be. Of you, and of me."

Xander was grinning, pleased and flattered despite himself as Spike winked and slipped out of the stall. Xander´s cheeks were still burning when he finally stepped out into the shower room himself, but he felt good.

Fannnntastic.

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