“No, seriously, Wills! I got it yesterday.”

“She did not give you…”

Xander simply nodded, and both burst into hysterics.

“What’s all this, then?”

“Hey, Spike. Xander was just telling me about…his penis!” Xander and Willow burst into laughter again, even as Spike’s eyes widened a little.

“I…see.”

“Yeah, wanna come up and see my penis?” Xander snickered.

“Um…okay?” Willow giggled again as Spike’s face seemed to blanch, then blush.

“You guys go ahead. Spike, I want to hear all about Xander’s…penis,” Willow said through her giggles as she walked off in the opposite direction.

Spike followed Xander up the stairs to his apartment slowly, completely flabbergasted at the prospect of Xander inviting him upstairs for a look at his pecker. Xander unlocked the apartment door, and stepped inside. Finally, Spike was able to reestablish his bearings, and took on his trademark swagger.

“All right, then, let’s have a look,” Spike smirked. “Where is it?”

“It’s in a box.”

“It gets around then, eh?” Spike replied, quirking one eyebrow in confusion. How could Xander’s penis be in a box, when there was no box or less polite euphemism for a box in plain view?

“It’s in the closet,” Xander said as he reached into the refrigerator for a drink.

“Always thought so, personally,” Spike shrugged.

Then Xander moved to the linen closet in the hall way and extracted a box.

“What’s that, then?”

Xander rolled his eyes. “It’s my penis.”

Spike’s face was so stricken, so confused, that Xander couldn’t keep up the charade any longer. He burst out laughing, wiping at the tears streaming down his face. “You…your face!”

Spike immediately covered up the disappointed dullness in his eyes and snarled. “What the bloody hell is going on?!”

Xander stopped laughing, unable to miss the expression Spike had quickly hidden from him.

“My aunt sent it to me yesterday. It’s an umbrella stand.”

“Why would you go around calling an umbrella stand your penis?”

Xander sighed and opened the box. He grinned as Spike began to laugh as well.

Inside the box was a large, ceramic umbrella stand…in the shape of a wide, pink penis.

“Never said my family had good taste,” Xander grinned ruefully. “You were really coming up here to see my penis?”

Spike stopped laughing, scowling a little. “Thought it was an invitation, didn’t I?”

“Well, you were supposed to think that, but I thought you’d call me a, what do you call it? Shift…shaft…shit…no…shift-lighter?”

“Shirt-lifter?” Spike suddenly said.

“What?”

“Not a shift-lighter, a shirt-lifter.”

“I…guess so.”

“Well, it doesn’t make any sense if you don’t say it right.”

“Kinda losing focus, here, Spike.”

“Fancy that.”

Xander continued. “Anyway, you’d call me that, and be on your way to laugh about it with all your friends.”

Spike rolled his eyes. “Don’t know if you noticed, mate, but my only friends are you and your gaggle.”

Xander suddenly felt bad. He hadn’t meant to… He didn’t know what to say, and the silence stretched on uncomfortably.

“Right,” Spike finally said. “Be on my way then?”

“Well…I mean…”

“What? Got a twat mug you wanna share?”

“A…huh?”

“Twat mug.”

“And again with a hearty huh?”

“Twat. Pussy. Beaver. Camel toe. Box.”

“I get it! No, I don’t have a…twat mug.”

“Right, then. Be on my way.”

“Wait, Spike.”

Spike sighed. “What is it, Harris?”

“Well, I mean…I showed you mine…”

“If you say “show me yours” I will…”

“Show me yours.”

Spike’s mouth clapped shut, his eyes snapping to look directly into Xander’s.

“Scuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Spike shook his head, clearing the daze a little bit. “Don’t have an umbrella stand, actually.”

Xander simply continued to stare.

“I’m not…”

“Well, I am.”

Spike was confused again. That seemed to be happening a lot today. “What? You’re what?”

“A shirt-lifter.”

Oh, there was that pesky shock again.

“You…”

“Are a shirt-lifter.”

“And you want…”

“To lift your shirt. You’re catching on pretty quick, vamp-breath.”

Spike suddenly needed to sit down. He’d come up expecting…something, learned he wasn’t getting…something, then been propositioned for…something, all in the space of a few minutes. He thought he was getting a headache. Should vampires get headaches?

“But apparently catching on does not mean catching up. Let me help you with the concept.” Xander stepped forward, and before Spike could react, his T-shirt was up around his neck.

He began to splutter.

“See that? Lifting your shirt.” Spike blinked at him owlishly.

“Ever hear the concept of Participaction?”

“Pardon?”

It took everything Xander had not to chuckle at the soft, polite question. Or kiss Spike for the sudden shift in his ordinarily brusque accent.

“Participaction. Participate in the action?”

“Er…oh.”

Xander gave up, and gave in to the urge to kiss those soft, pink lips.

It took a few moments of wet, gentle exploration before he felt Spike’s lips finally move beneath his. A heady rush flew through his body at the knowledge that Spike was kissing him back. Knowing he’d shocked the vampire into silence didn’t hurt, either.

Spike stepped back and smirked. “Gonna use the umbrella stand?”

“Only if you’re good,” he leered back.

“Right, then.”


END