Black and White
Saturday, August 26, 2000
He shouldn't be watching.
Xander had gone to Angel's apartment simply to make sure Spike had been fed before heading
out on a ride while Cordelia dealt with the power company. No one had answered Xander's knock but that
hadn't deterred him. He'd picked the lock with nimble ease -- a talent he'd learned from his
undead companion -- and had entered the dimly lit apartment, planning to wake Spike, who
he'd figured was sleeping.
"Anyone here?" Xander had called, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. He had only
taken a single step away from the door when he'd heard an unearthly cry.
Xander had froze for only a second, but in that time a million thoughts and feelings had
bombarded him. The cry had been made by Spike, of that Xander had been certain, and the
images of what could've been making Spike cry out like that had chilled and enraged
him at the same time.
He had bolted through the living room and down the hallway towards the back bedroom, his
heart slamming against his chest. He hadn't known what he'd find when he reached the
bedroom but, as he'd skidded to a halt on the carpeting just inside the doorway, nowhere in
his mind had there been an image of Angel and Spike ravenously mauling one another in sexual
Xander had back-stepped rapidly, disappearing into the shadows -- another trick he'd learned
from Spike -- just beyond the doorway to the bedroom.
And there he'd stayed, watching.
With each minute that continued to pass, Xander's trousers grew tighter and more
uncomfortable. He knew he should leave because he sure as hell didn't have the balls to ask if he
could join in, even though that's what his dick was telling him to do.
But instead of creeping back out of the apartment, Xander adjusted himself and kept observing.
To Xander, the two writhing on the bed made a very interesting, erotic sight. He couldn't tell if
they were clothed or not -- clothing worn close to the body didn't appear in Xander-vision.
Angel was on top, kissing Spike hungrily as he ground his hips in a circular motion against Spike. Spike's hands were twisted in Angel's hair and he was returning the kiss with
Angel appeared almost completely black; Spike looked completely white.
Xander stared, his breathing heavy and loud in the shadows of the hallway, as Spike flipped over
so he was straddling Angel. Spike sat up, pulled his shirt -- oh, they're still clothed, Xander
thought -- off and tossed it away before resuming his hungry attack on Angel's mouth.
Xander still couldn't take his eyes off the two of them. With his wild vision, Angel's body was
as black as night save for the bluish-white strands of electrical activity in his head and faintly traversing his veins. Spike, as
always, looked as white as a full moon against a starless sky.
They should have resembled a 3-D Rorschach test to Xander, or a pornographic chess game.
Instead, they reminded him of ying and yang, opposites that fit perfectly together.
A different type of uncomfortableness developed as Xander watched Angel's large hands
slide sensually around Spike's lean waist. It was a strange combination of anger and want that
formed a knot inside Xander's gut and it sparked the desire to storm into the bedroom and break
those damned fingers.
It was... jealousy?
Xander scowled, turned around and quietly stalked down the hallway. He was not jealous. He
had no desire to screw either one of the vampires. The thought of caressing undead flesh made
his skin crawl, no matter how dang sexy the package.
A loud howl of obvious pleasure followed Xander from the bedroom as he entered the kitchen.
"Shuddup," he muttered as he began to dig through the kitchen drawers. "You sound like a
couple of demented zebras humping."
Finding his prize, Xander shut the drawer and headed back down the hallway. He stopped again
in the shadows outside the bedroom door. His lips compressed into a thin line at the sight of the
column of flesh repeatedly disappearing between muscular asscheeks.
Nope, not jealous, Xander thought as he spun on his heel and marched into the bathroom. He
picked up Angel's hairgel off the sink and unscrewed the cap. With his teeth, he twisted off the
top of the tube of Superglue he'd gotten from the kitchen.
Nope, not jealous at all.