Freudian Slip - Mys

Freudian Slip


By Mys


Who: Spike and Xander
What: Spike, Xander, at the Bronze. Stuff happens. Everything above the waistline, though ;)
When: Whenever I bloody well please and as often as possible ;) No spoilers.
Where: The Bronze... were you even listening? sheesh... *sigh*
Why: Because stir_of_echoes asked for some distraction. And I like her, so there!
Other stuff I feel the need to say: This was definitely more work and confusion than the end result looks like. Oh well, maybe not the confusion-part... ;)
I wanted to send it off as soon as possible so that stir_of_echoes would have it but after I send it to my beta my Dad told me he wanted me out of the room in five minutes so I decided to send her the unbeta'd version. Than I thought, that the unbeta'd version is surely horrible, begged my brother to let me use his computer to wait for the mail from yellowsummer with the corrected version and he let me, but there I had to search for the end of the story which I had posted but not yet sent to yellowsummer ... all in all, it was a mess. So here it is beta'd and done...
mistakes are mine but you can keep them if you find them ;)
thanks to yellowsummer for betaing at such an ungodly hour ;)
thanks to blueirish for reading over it a second time and pointing out the things that didn't make sense :D

"You know you want it."

Warm breath ghosts over his neck and down his spine and Xander swears he can feel it settling in the small of his back.
Right where Spike's thumb is kneading into muscles Xander doesn't know he has, none the less how tense they are.
God, how has he ended up here?
All he had wanted was some distraction. And going to the Bronze had seemed like the right thing to do.
He had planned on dancing the night away, maybe even flirting a bit with someone.
And yeah, in his imagination that someone had been blond but also very much of the female shaped variety.

"Don't fight it." Little puffs of air against his neck. "Just go with the flow."

And that pale hand that has been resting on his hip is now wandering over his stomach, leaving a hot trail on its way.
Which it can't.
Because Spike is dead.
Cold.
Not able to make him hot, right?

Xander groans.
Good thing he doesn't know what a Freudian slip is.
And Spike is pressing up against him and his other hand slips away from the small of his back and Xander doesn't think about the fact that he misses the pressure just a bit too much.

Especially not as Spike strokes down his arm to entwine their fingers.

"Feels good, doesn't it?"
Who would have guessed Spike had rhythm?

Well, probably everyone who ever saw that guy fight.

Or move.

Or stand casually leaning up against a wall which would look wanna-be cool on everyone else but just looked drop-dead gorgeous on Spike.
And yeah, so Xander notices the drop-dead gorgeousness coming from Spike. Everyone who has eyes would notice it.
But confronted with that gorgeousness pressed up against him, somehow the witty remarks don't really flow like they used to.
Probably because there's no blood left in his brain on which they could flow.
Good thing Spike takes the lead as he embraces Xander from behind, draping his and with that Xander's arm across Xander's chest, their hands resting on Xander's shoulder.

"You feel so good, Xan. All hot and sweaty from dancing. All that lovely blood rushing around in your body." And for a second Spike rubs his cheek along Xander's jawline and nuzzles the skin behind Xander's ear and the brunette shudders in response. "Although I would bet most of it isn't rushing north right now. Am I right?"

And Xander can hear the smirk and for just a moment he's annoyed enough to push Spike away and bring an end to this but that's exactly when Spike decides to start nibbling on his neck and suddenly staying where he is seems like exactly the right thing to do.
So does panting.
And maybe a bit moaning.
And he doesn't care that Spike is sucking on his neck like there's no tomorrow.
In a public place.
Right in the middle of the dance floor.

If he managed to keep his eyes open he'd see that quite a few people are watching them.

Conspicuous or not so much.

But somehow his eyes keep drifting shut and maybe it isn't the smartest idea to close your eyes when a vampire is latching onto your neck but the beat of the music vibrates through Xander's bones and the hand on his stomach keeps drawing senseless patterns over his abdominals and Spike's fingers are so soft against his rough construction-worker hands and Spike's hips are moving to the music and Xander's hips are moving to Spike's hips and the air is moving around them, cocooning them into their own little world and for a moment Xander can forget that he's a Scoobie and Spike a Vampire. That he's one of the good ones and Spike isn't. That he's a guy and Spike... too.
For a moment everything is right there.
The way he has always wanted it.
The way he has never dared to picture it because it's just not right.
But right now it is.
And then the song ends.
And Spike's finger slip out of his and Xander grabs out of reflex to get them back but only holds his own shirt between his fingers.
The material is rough.

And then all of a sudden he feels cold because Spike takes a step back and cool air is brushing over his back.
And he know this is the moment where he turns around and Spike grins at him, maybe even tells him how stupid he is and strolls out of the Bronze like nothing has happened.
So he doesn't turn around.
Just holds on to the rough material against his fingers and focus on the cold air on his back.
He jumps as Spike's hand settles on his, loosening the shirt out of his grasp and entwines their finger once again to pull him around.
His eyes widen as Spike leans in as if to kiss him and he holds himself perfectly still as Spike's lips ghost over his heated cheek.
"Thanks for the dance, pet." A flicker of tongue against the rim of his ear and his eyes drift shut again. "We should do that again sometime."
And with that Spike lets his hand go and steps back.
Grinning, but not telling him how stupid he is.
But than he strolls. Out that is.
But after only three steps he turns back with that devilish glint in his eyes.
"See you tomorrow."
And Xander doesn't need to point out that he didn't plan on coming here tomorrow cause they both know that he will come.

Xander groans.
Maybe he does know about Freudian slips after all.


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