Mischief and Porn: The Journals of Xander Harris

Title: Ain't No Party Like a Costume Party
Author: batmanvinnie
Fandom: BtVS
Pairings: Spander
Rating/Warnings: Adult, slash
Prompt: IThis prompt is from babysquid and is simply "codpiece."
Disclaimer: I hired a pack of ninjas to kidnap Joss; he was threatened with hot poker torture, chainsaws, and an exorcism. I now own all. Thank you. *Doctor's Note: Patient exhibits delusions of grandeur and any claims of ownership are pure fantasy. No harm is meant. Seriously, it's better than her throwing rocks at people.

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I stared at Angel's crotch in wonder. It was like a car wreck and I couldn't look away. After Willow secured Angel's soul, he and Buffy had been frequently absent, doing a lot of "patrolling." And by patrolling, I mean doing the horizontal mambo. I don't think anybody actually believes that they patrol. Not even the 10 year old Amish slayer who insisted on a boat trip to England believes that load of crap.

England doesn't really celebrate Halloween like they do in the States, so we'd decided it would be a fun time, give the girls a night off. So we cleaned up the ballroom/gym and decorated. Everyone had to dress up, no exceptions. And you know what? Aside from the caveman face, Angel made a pretty good Princess. He even had the pointy hat and everything. Buffy was dressed in a suit of armor, apparently as Angel's knight. (And you know what? There's nothing funnier than seeing a 5'3" knight in shining armor making out with a 6'1" princess.)

"See something you don't like?" I turned around and saw a grinning Willow. She'd dressed as Indiana Jones, complete with leather jacket, hat, whip, and everything. She looked really good as Indy, and Dawnie was dressed in Willie Scott's red dress from "The Temple of Doom." After the junior-high drama that was Kennedy and Willow's relationship, my favorite witch decided to take a break from the ladies and instead was focusing on teaching young witches the control Willow had learned almost too late.

"Angel's crotch." Dawn busted out laughing while Wills just shook her head.

"Hmm . . . maybe you should have picked him to be your Sire," Willow answered, her mouth twitching at the corners.

"Funny, Wills, real funny. No, I was just thinking, Angel and Buffy always say that they're going 'patrolling' but then someone always ends up catching them making with the smoochies and the smoochies don't always happen on the lips, either."

Willow and Dawn nodded. "And . . . "

"Well, it makes me wonder just how many species of demons are located in Angel's underpants."

"Doesn't wear 'em." Willow and Dawn jumped at Spike's sudden appearance. I probably would have too, back in my un-undead days. Now I can always hear and smell him, and a part of me can always feel him. (He really likes it when I feel him, and when he feels me, and when we . . . where was I? Oh right.) Anyways, as my Sire, I can just tell when he's around. He walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around my stomach.

"Fine, underpants, pants, boxers, briefs, crotch whatever!" I continued. "I just want to know if there's like, a Hellmouth down there." We all turned and looked at Angel and Buffy again, who had commenced with the kissing.

"I'm guessing an active Hellmouth, one that Buffy is determined to guard 24/7," Dawn said, eying the couple with a Watcher-in-training's skill.

Spike chuckled. "I just can't believe she got him into that dress. Never would have guessed he'd get into a dress, let alone a pink one. Although he doesn't look too bad, really. You know, aside from the caveman brow."

"She probably just bribed him with lots of sex," Dawn theorized.

"Ew, God, Dawnie, no!" I started screamed, having one of those full-body shudders. "I didn't need to know that! Ew, I need brainsoap!"

"What? We all know that they're playing 'chase the undead mongoose,’" she shot back, rolling her eyes. God, that girl, always with the eye-rolling! She'll probably be the first Watcher to have more attitude than the Slayer. (Oh, and speaking of eyes, I have two now! One night on patrol, a real patrol, not a Buffy/Angel smoochie patrol, Spike ripped out this vampire's eye and made me put it in my socket. My undeadness took the eye and made it mind. It was creepy, gross, and pretty damn cool. There's a chapter devoted to my new eye in the Council records now.)

Dawn kept talking. "I mean, it's not like he lost his soul drinking tea and eating biscuits."

"He lost it eating something else." I could hear the smirk is Spike's voice.

I groaned and gave up. Apparently my Sire and so-called friends weren't going to be happy until I got in some good time with a wire-brush and brainsoap.

"Good Lord, is that Angel in a dress?" We turned around and saw Giles, staring at Buffy and Angel in abject horror. He'd lost a bet to the supposedly-reformed Ethan Rayne so Giles was dressed as Harry Potter.

"So, Harry, where's your roomie?" Spike asked. No one was precisely certain as to the exact nature of Giles' relationship with Ethan. (One of the Slayers, a New Jersey graduate of MIT, had started a betting pool. Buffy was betting on 3 more months before Giles and Ethan started playing butt pirates. I was betting one more month, while Dawnie was maintaining that they'd already started up with the butt piracy.)

"He's in the corner dressed as Death," Giles answered with a sigh. He really didn't seem happy as "The-Boy-Who-Lived."

"Oh, I see him." Dawn frowned and continued. "Is it just me or is Faith waay too interested in his stick?"

Giles' head snapped up, eyes turning icy. "She's what?" he asked, voice cold.

I snorted. Platonic relationship my ass.

"She's looking at his sickle, you know, the sharp thing he's holding." Dawn explained with a sigh. "Don't worry, she's not going to hit on him. Why would she hit on him? She's too busy boinking Andrew."

Willow's mouth dropped open, Giles sputtered, and Dawn, Spike and I snickered. I don't really know how Dawn had found out about Faith and Andrew's relationship, but Spike and I had smelled it from a mile away. (After that discovery and Buffy and Angel's continual "patrolling," we'd started wearing cologne to block out their combined scents, because ew.) We all turned and watched Faith talking with Ethan.

"That can't be right. That seems too...." Giles started.

"Bizarre, unnatural, unholy, yucky?" Willow offered. At that point, Andrew, dressed as Han Solo, scuttled up to Faith, handing her a glass of punch.

"All of the above," Giles murmured, watching Andrew and Faith with a look akin to horror. (Yeah, that’s right, I said "akin." Hanging out with Watchers and having a Sire that's read nearly every great English work of fiction helps you learn big words.)

"Makes perfect sense to me," Spike said. "She's one dominant, tough chick, always needs to be in control. And Andrew is a total sub. He's a nice little dork, perfect for keeping her light, happy, and secure in the knowledge that she's unreservedly adored. 'Sides, they must be shagging. How else do you think he got her into that Princess Leia metal bikini?"

"Probably in the same way Xander forced you into that Flash costume," Giles snickered.

"Oi! I'll have you know I've been a Flash fan for decades."

"Really? 'Cuz you know, I would have figured you for a Batman type what with the black and kick-assness," Willow said.

"Nah, broods too much. Always reminded me of Peaches."

At this point I became Angry Bat-Xan. "Oh great, now I'll never wear this costume again! I do not want to be Bat-Angel, for Christssake!" I yelled. I took off for the snack table, cape billowing. At the table, I grabbed a brownie and scarfed it down. Behind me, I could still hear them talking.

"I'm actually surprised you guys are the Flash and Batman. I would have figured you guys would have done costumes that were a couple or something," Dawn said.

Spike snorted. "We did."

"What? They're not a couple, Spike," Willow explained.

"You ever seen that cartoon? Justice League?"

"Yeah."

"They're fucking."

"What?!"

"Oh come on, you know they are," Spike shot back.

Dawn apparently agreed. "I guess it makes sense. They're always fighting like you and Xander did. Well, do."

Smiling, I turned and walked through the diningroom and into the kitchen. I was only a couple of months old at the time, so I was still developing. I was hungry all the time, mostly for blood although I did (and still do) indulge in the occasional Hostess snack food. I walked over to the small fridge reserved for souled vampires. I grabbed a bag of human from it and put it in my "Boondocks" mug. As I started the microwave, Spike walked into the kitchen.

"You're not really mad at me, are you luv?" He grabbed my waist, turned me around and pressed my back against the counter, trapping me between a rock and hard . . . piece.

"Yes, I am," I said, pouting. Spike pouted back at me. "I'm sorry, I can't help it. Batman is my favorite superhero, and now I'll always think of Angel when I think of him."

"Well don't. There's no way in any dimension that Angel would look anywhere as good as you in this," he purred, leaning up to kiss my chin. As soon at the microwave dinged, Spike grabbed my mug and handed it to me. I drank it quickly, and the whole time, he stared into my eyes. (And is it wrong that looking in his eyes can get me hard?)

"I'm so glad you got the cartoon Batman costume and not the movie Batman costume," he said, slipping his fingers up under my top. Slowly, he ran his fingers over my skin. It always feels so good when he touches me.

"Oh really? Why is that?" I asked, staring down into his eyes. The red of his costume really set off the blue of his eyes. I knew it was naughty time as he curled his tongue behind his top teeth. He used his other hand and grabbed my dick through my costume.

"No codpiece to get in the way." I lowered my head and kissed him. You'd think that kissing him all the time would get boring after a while, but it really doesn't. I moaned as he started massaging my cock through the soft fabric. Man, he's got talented fingers. Stepping away from me, he reached around my neck and unhooked my cape. Tossing it over his shoulder, he shot his lascivious smirk #6. (Just for your information, I've learned that each smirk means a different thing. #1 indicates severe taunting head, usually sexual in nature and aimed not at me. #2 means naughty comments to follow, #3 equals petting and touching. #4 is nice; it means a great make out session involving heavy petting, and #5 means oral sex. #6 means a quickie, and is my favorite. Apparently it's Spike's favorite too.)

As my cape fluttered to the ground, he pulled my head down for a searing, bone-melting, cock-hardening, brain-'sploding kiss. I'm pretty sure we both started moaning as we rubbed against each other, biting each others lips as the kiss intensified. Pulling back, his eyes flashed yellow (hah, the Flash's eyes flashed!) as he spoke.

"Turn around, Childe." Ohhh god, and that took me from rock hard to adamantium hard. (I don't know if this holds true to other vampires, but god, that whole Sire/Childe dynamic is a total turn on. I wonder if it’s a general vampire kink, or is it just me?)

He ran his hand down my back, tracing my muscles. I'd gotten pretty muscley in the past months. While one hand kept stroking my cock, the other grabbed my ass. He pressed his hand between my ass cheeks and pushed against my butt plug so it massaged my prostate. (Yes, I have a butt plug you pervs! Spike refuses to hurt me even though I heal fast now, so he made me get one so I'd always be ready for Spike Jr. During that shopping trip, I learned that vampires can indeed blush.) Spike moved his hands away and shoved his pants/tights down past his hips, chuckling when I whimpered in a manly fashion. He pressed his body against mine. "Lean forward, hands flat on the counter," he growled. (Did I mention I have a Spike-growl kink too?)

He jerked down my stretchy Bat-pants and rubbed Spike Jr. against my ass. His cool fingers reached into my cleft and grasped the plug, wriggling it around until I was a whimpering puddle of Xander Goo (TM). Finally, he pulled the plug out and drove himself into me. Growling (did I mention my growl-love?), he hammered his cock into me. I don't really remember what I was saying, but it was something along the lines of "PleaseSirefasterharderohGodI'mgoingtodie!"

He reached up and pulled the collar of my shirt down, exposing the side of my neck. With the other hand, he ripped my mask off. He leaned forward and drove his fangs into my neck. I screamed and came, every muscle in my body clenching in pleasure. His cock pounded into me one more time before he came, tearing his fangs out of me and roaring.

As we calmed down, we became aware of a human presence in the room. We knew that smell and giggle: Dawn. We looked toward the door, where a smirking Dawn stood, watching us from behind the partially-closed kitchen door. (I'm pretty sure she was aroused, but as previously stated, I'd taken to drowning out my sense of smell unless I was patrolling. And I don't really want to think about Dawn being aroused either, because again, ew.)

"Dawn!" Dawn spun around as Buffy called for her. She quickly closed the door before speaking.

"Hey Buff, what’s up?"

"Costume competition time. Where are Spike and Xander?"

"In the kitchen. Busy."

"Busy with what?"

I could practically hear the smirk in Dawn’s reply. "Patrolling."

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A/N: So, dear reader, you've finished this story. Now, I'm thinking of making it a crossover. How, do you ask? Well, I'm thinking that maybe Spike and his new childe should travel the world! See the sights! Scare tourists! Have sex at these sites!

I've gotten several suggestions that I plan on using; so I'm holding off on accepting new ideas for the time being. But if I ever get through these ideas, I'll ask for more. Thanks to all who gave me ideas. I lubs you.