Dedicated to K. Sandra Fuhr:

Thanks for all the luscious, yummy, delicious (And a bunch of other adjectives having to do with sweet,  fluffy, Harley/Mikhail goodness) comics. You are my muse. You are my goddess. I haven't slept for three days 'cause I can't stop crying. WHY OH WHY MUST YOU TAKE AWAY M'BOYS!? Never again will I ever see Harley scream 'Whee! I'm nekkid!' while jumping Mikhail! Evil, evil temptress woman! WAAHHHHHH! Okay, I'm done schmoozing. Love ya totally. Here's a Xander/Spike fic for ya, my very FIRST!

For those of you who have not seen 'Boy Meets Boy' click the link! You're missing out!

         Xander knew the internet connection was a mistake.

         Oh, but it could be 'educational!' Willow said, 'You can look up whatever you want on the internet! You can even download Simpsons episodes, but I didn't tell you that because that would be wrong.'

         Okay, so, Willow wasn't the one that convinced him to get the internet. Nor was it the allure of every Simpsons episode at his fingertips. He got the internet for the same reason any honest male got the internet for.

         Free porn.

         Admittedly, it hadn't been his most shining moment, especially with the big pervert he was currently dating. He really didn't need to be giving the short, bleached idiot any more completely fucked up sexual inspirations. He was already never able to look at a horse the same way again (Although, to be fair, Spike had told him to stay out of his private photo album, but seriously...how could he resist?! Spike had said the pictures in that book were the most degrading, humiliating and depraved things he had ever done and would never do again...)

         So, it was really his fault that he had nightmares every time Buffy made them watch National Velvet, not Spike's, but it was the principle of the thing, really.

         Anyway...where was he? Oh, yeah...internet BAD IDEA! Especially since Spike had discovered (By way of Cordelia, who was going to die, slowly, painfully for this transgression,) a comic series called 'Boy Meets Boy.'

         At first, it had been cute, Spike's little preoccupation with an online comic strip. He made cute little squealing noises every time the dial-up cut out and he couldn't get online, and the nekkidness...oh, sweet Lord, the nekkidness! There was just something adorable about Spike running into the room, screaming 'Whee! I'm nekkid!' and throwing himself across a readily available Xander lap. That was goooooddddd!

         Not so good was when Spike started doing it whenever Willow, Tara, Buffy, Riley, Giles, Angel, Cordelia, Wesley, Gunn, a Jehovah's witness, his pastor, his mom, his dad, his grandparents, his boss, his coworkers or really just any random person off the street happened to come by for a visit. The only way he could get Spike to stop doing that whenever he had people coming over was to strategically place super-glue in Spike's sleep-shorts. Which resulted in his butt getting bitten, literally, but it had kept Spike at least partially clothed for a short period of time. Of course, when Spike finally managed to peel the fabric away from his skin, he was forced to provide amble smoochies and cuddling to make up for that one. Not that Xander minded.

         He didn't even mind when Spike insisted on getting pet tarantulas, 'cause quote 'Harley has tartantualas...why can't I have tarantulas? Mikhail loves Harley more than you love me!' end quote.

         Of course, any attempt to convince Spike that it was a comic strip and therefore not real life, was futile. So, Spike got tarantulas. Whose cage he kept constantly leaving the top off. And therefore scaring the crap out of Buffy whenever she came in and saw Sid, Nancy and Ramone skittering across the floor.

         That didn't stop until Spike brought home, without asking, might he add, a feral ferret dubbed, oddly enough, Lancelot, who would eat Sid, Nancy and Ramone given half a chance.

         The little bastard was allowed free run of the apartment, since Spike left that cage open too. The little bastard also happened to hate Xander while he adored Spike. Spike got cute little ferret kisses, Xander got his toes gnawed whenever Spike wasn't around to see the naughty ferret behavior. All attempts to get Buffy to slay the beast was fruitless; she wasn't suitably convinced that Lancelot was a demon. She got ferret kisses too. So, Lancelot stayed, just because Buffy was a dope and his dope of a boyfriend was master of the Xander-resolve-melting-pout.

         Still...Xander wasn't sure what was worse. Creepy ass eight-legged creatures running about the apartment or the toe-eating ferret running about the apartment.

         Then Spike had grown a pony-tail. Which...bright side, Xander could finally run his fingers through Spike's hair without slicing his fingers open on the stiffly gelled locks. And watching Spike on his knees sucking him off with long hair? Gargh!

         But the not so bright side...ehhh...he was still working on that one.

         For a year now, Xander had been living in happy oblivion with his freaky boyfriend and his freaky pets, never knowing how good he had it.

         Two days ago, Spike had a melt-down when he found out that 'Boy Meets Boy' was finally ending, the 'bitch-sadist-cartoonist,' as Spike called her, was apparently moving onto bigger and better things, leaving his lover in the lurch. Spike had been in full pout mode for two days and counting. Spike even turned down comfort sex. SPIKE! TURNING DOWN SEX! That was one of the signs of the apocalypse! SPIKE! TURNING! DOWN! SEX! Sirens were going off in some underground government bunker, and Bush was crapping his pants right at this very moment.

         Finally, Xander had decided to sneak a peek in Spike's favorites folder and find out why this comic was effectively ruining his entire home-life (And incidently, heralding the end of the world. Thanks a lot,K. Sandra Fuhr!).

         Now, his cute, adorable, Master of the Xander-resolve-melting-pout love of his life was going to get reamed and reamed good. And not in the fun way that left Spike purring with a goofy look on his face either.

         Xander was seated in the perfect glowering position, facing the door, while he waited oh-so-patiently for Spike to return from patrol, the incriminating evidence that he printed off the internet. Fresh for the exposure of the horrible, terrible truth!

         "Where's m'baby!?" Spike bounced into the apartment, apparently completely unaware of how much danger he was in. Xander didn't bother to respond to Spike's greeting, as he well knew that he wasn't being spoken too. Lancelot came bolting into the room from the bedroom, (and if that fucking ferret had pissed in his underwear drawer again, someone was going to die tonight,) ready for Spike-smoochies.

         Xander wouldn't admit he was jealous of the ferret, ever, especially right now. He was PISSED and therefore not craving soothing Spike-smoochies. He craved nothing that would make him forget his anger, even if Spike was wearing the extremely tight leather pants that made Xander extremely jealous of dead cows. GAH!

         "Hey, pet," Spike finally got around to greeting his sugar-daddy, which, hello! Priorities! Xander paid the internet bills, which allowed Spike to view this HEINOUS comic, which led to Spike getting Lancelot, Sid, Nancy, Ramone and a pony-tail, goddamit! Someone was forgetting who bought the blood and ferret food around here! It certainly wasn't Mister-Oh-but-Xanpet-I'm-Much-Too-Cute-And-Sexy-To-Do-Things-Like-Get-A-Job-And-Earn-Money-Especially-Since-I'd-Have-To-Work-At-Night-And-Therefore-Depriving-You-Of-My-Extremely-Tight-And-Sexy-Arse-Ripe-For-The-Pounding-Is-It-Naked-Time-Yet.

         Xander had to hand it to Spike, though. He certainly knew how to win an argument.

         "Ehhh...any particular reason for the glare of death?" Spike blinked oh-so-wide innocent, no, Giles, I didn't do anything positively indecent with the cucumber in your fridge, eyes. Yeah...not going to work this time, buddy.

         "I saw something interesting on the internet today," Xander was proud of his stern, 'I'm in complete control and are you just so fucked' tone of voice. He had been practicing it ever since he realized the capacity of trouble Spike was able to get into.

         Spike's eyes widened in alarm. "Oh...Christ, Xan-pet...it was the bloody Seventies...I was just a bit coked-up...I didn't even know they were videotaping that...but it's the only orgy I was ever in...eh...barring the ones with Darla, Angel and Drusilla...but you knew about those, and I haven't been in one since Angelus went the way of the Dodo...the first time, not the second...oh, and I definitely didn't know they'd sale videotapes!"

          "What...and...what?!" Xander stared at Spike, wondering why he had never heard this story before, then decided he never wanted to hear the story or anything remotely related to the story, and then wondered how much money had in his bank account and if it was enough to buy every video tape related to that story that was ever sold.

         And hey! He was being distracted from his righteous indignation!

         "No, it's not about the Seventies coke and orgy party porn video," Xander said testily, "Of which we will never speak of again!" My Spike...grrr! "This is about your little comic strip..."

         "Yeah?" Spike perked up considerably and let Lancelot climb up onto his shoulder, his beady little eyes glaring malevolently at Xander. The ferret's beady little eyes, not Spike's. "You found out where K. Sandra Fuhr lives? Can we burn lewd pictures into her housepets with a curling iron now?"

         "No!" Xander tried for a'I'm really pissed right now, pissed enough to deny you sex for a year and look up Anya again' look, which, of course was lost on Spike, since he was practically making out with Lancelot again. "I'm talking about your little obsession with a certain pointy-haired broody poof!"

         "Ehh..." That got Spike's attention away from ferret tongue, at least for a little bit. "Angelus?"

         "Noooo...well, sorta...yes...by proxy," Xander held up one of the many comic strips he had printed out to illustrate his point, jabbing a finger in Mikhail's face.

         "Hey! You said I couldn't print those out and waste the ink!" Spike whined, "How come you're allowed to waste ink?"

         "So not the point here, moron," Xander tried to do the 'I'll look up Anya for orgasms' glower again and that finally got through Spike's skull.

         "You're...jealous of a bloody comic character?" Unfortunately, it hadn't penetrated far enough, since Spike looked about ready to start laughing, "Are you bent? More than usual I mean?"

         "Look at him!" Xander shouted, jabbing his finger again into Mikhail's face. Ironically, he was drawn looking extremely annoyed in that strip, so he looked pissed at being poked at like a proctology patient. "Pointy hair, big...soulful eyes and...and he's brooding! You're having an affair with Angel!"

         Spike blinked, looked around the apartment in confusion, as if expecting Angel to jump out, completely naked and yell, 'Yes! I'm having an affair with Spike, and we're moving to Paris to become whining, starving artists together, eating nothing but rats and crepes!'

         "Come again? An affair with Angel?" Spike had to repeat it, it was so ridiculous.

         "Why in the bloody hell would you think that?!" He held his hands up to stop Xander before he could repeat his reasons, "Never mind...don't tell me. Your logic is bound to give me a headache that'll make the chip shocking me seem like nothing."

         "Okay, maybe not an actual affair," Xander grumbled, "It's the principle of the thing. You practically emulate this friggin' comic. You got spiders and a...rat with a fuzzy tail..." Lancelot glared at him from Spike's shoulder and Xander just knew his little toe was going to suffer for that slight, "And you grew a pony-tail! And you said NO TO SEX! Incidentally, you said no to sex at the same time the comic stopped showing your little Russian boy-toy when he moved to LOS ANGELES!" Xander smirked, "I checked the dates. Correspond exactly. And don't think I don't get the Los Angeles connection."

         "I'm getting that headache," Spike complained, "Fine...I concede that Mikhail may look a little like Angelus...but that doesn't mean I want to move to bloody LA and start shagging my bastard of a Sire..."

         "Ah ha! I never said that! So you've thought of it before!"

         "No, I bloody well not have thought of it before!" Spike was about ten seconds from fleeing the apartment. Somehow, between him leaving for patrol and coming home, Xander had turned into a friggin' woman...and not just any woman...a Slayer-with-PMS-woman. Who was jealous of a comic strip! "You are insane, you know that right?"

         "Don't insult me. It's not going to help you this time, buddy," Xander sniffed, looking rather injured and kicked-puppyish. Satan help him. "You do everything else that's in the comic. It won't be long before you move to LA to be with your real love."

         Spike's eyes crossed. They really did. He could tell 'cause the ultra-blue prescription contacts he claimed to not wear shifted and the world went fuzzy until he blinked them back into place. "Angelus is not my real love. He never was my real love and he'll never be my real love, no matter what that nasty comic seems to be telling you."

         "So...you're saying that Drusilla is your real love, then?" Tears appeared in Xander's eyes. They got all shiny and huge...and oh God, he was not going to fall for this act again, even if it seemed REALLY convincing this time.

         "NO! I never even mentioned her name! For the love of Christ, please tell me you're just having me on already!" Xander shook his head in the negative, his eyes getting even wider and even more wet as the seconds passed.

         Great. Spike knew what this meant. Groveling, back rubs and letting Xander top him. All because he read some friggin' comic online. Plus...now he had to tell the truth. Spike shuddered in horror. He avoided telling the truth at ALL costs, because it was so...good...and...pure. They could make him fight the good fight, but they COULDN'T MAKE HIM TELL THE TRUTH! Except Xander. Because he was pathetic and Xander-whipped. Right now, that wasn't as fun as the title implied.

         "Do you even know why I grew my hair long?" Spike gritted out, tugging on his shoulder-length ponytail, "It's not 'cause I have a thing for Mikhail, you damned git. I have a thing for Skids."

         "Uh?" Bigger, wetter. Damn! "Skids?" Xander shifted through the comics till he found one with Skids in it, "That's supposed to make me feel better?!"

         "YES!" Spike shouted, grabbing the comics out of Xander's hand and finding the most current one, which happened to be Skids and Tybalt making kissing face. Tybalt, who had a ponytail...what the hell was going on? Who was Skids supposed to be? Was he supposed to be jealous still? Xander wasn't sure, so he decided to keep on being jealous until Spike explained.

         "Oh, for the love of..." Spike waved the comic in Xander's face, "He's bloody optimistic, idealistic, all full of wounded-fluffy-puppy feelings and he wears REALLY UGLY CLOTHING! Do you GET what I'm saying?"

         "Um...you think my clothing is ugly?" Spike growled and Xander tried to keep a grin from surfacing, he really did, but he couldn't help it. He was the only one Spike said had wounded-fluffy-puppy feelings. "You think I'm Skids? And you're Tybalt?"

         "Well..." Spike scowled, "He's the only bad ass in there, really. And I'm always the villain."

         "Is that why you grew girly-hair?" Xander had gone from jealous bitch to schmoopy, teasing lover in two seconds flat. That was a world record any way you cut it.

         "Yes," Spike gritted out in annoyance, simply agreeing to avoid big, wet Xander eyes again. "That's why I grew girly-hair."

         Xander's look now distinctly said 'Aww, look at the cute short vampire, I just wanna run my fingers through his hair and spank his pert little bum till it's pink.' Not one of Spike's favorite looks, but it usually led to sex, so he wasn't inclined to complain at the moment. And he wasn't SHORT. People just got taller over the last century, fucking evolution.

         "Get rid of the rat and come here," Spike immediately put Lancelot down, who in turn sent a look at Xander that promised swift vengeance once he was alone again.

         "So, you know I'm not having a soddin' affair with Angel or a comic character, right?" Spike asked before coming nearer. Xander had a tendency to smack him whenever he was in trouble. Not that it hurt, but he was a Master Vampire, goddamit, and he shouldn't be smacked by any namby-pamby human. Spanking, though, was a completely different story.

         "Yeah, I'm stupid and jealous, and your ass is so mine and no one else's," Xander told him in all seriousness, "Now get over here."

         So, Spike went over there, and then kissed Xander passionately and sloppily, with lots of tongue, and then they shagged themselves blind on the rug, but since K. Sandra Fuhr never shows any of the good bits, I'm not showing my good bits either. So, nyah, nyah, nyah!

THE END! (Of the story and BMB! WAHH!)

Check out Boy Meets Boy by K. Sandra Fuhr

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