reality_bends | Could they actually be settling down for the night?

"Then we're both," Wesley growled slowly, with his mouth nearly touching Spike's, "in a great deal of trouble." He took Spike's lips with his own, kissing him deeply.

"I'm not seeing any trouble," Spike said somewhat hoarsely when Wesley pulled back again. He swept his hands from Wesley's waist to his shoulders and back again.

"No? I think we're going to need a new flat with a lot more privacy," Wesley told him with a sly grin. "I'd hate to inconvenience the neighbors with our marathon sex sessions."

Even though Spike was feeling thoroughly sated, his cock still twitched inside of Wesley's body at that idea. "I hear there're some good sound-proofing materials on the market," Spike said. He chuckled. "Never thought listening to Harris talk about his work would pay off."

"I'd like to spend hours in bed with you every day," Wesley said, running a hand down Spike's side experimentally to see if he was ticklish.

Spike couldn't stop himself from making a murmur of pleasure at the thought and at Wesley's touch. "Sounds good to me."

Reluctantly, Wesley said, "I should move."

Spike's hands automatically tightened on Wesley's back. "I like you here," he said, rather distressed by the thought of Wesley moving away.

Wesley settled back down a bit. "I like being here."

"Then stay, if you're not uncomfortable," Spike said, returning to sliding his hands over Wesley's back. "This is perfect."

"It is rather," Wesley admitted, relaxing a bit more.

"I'm glad you think so," Spike said, pressing his lips gently to Wesley's jaw and sighing with hazy contentment as Wesley settled even more of his weight on him. He thought idly that he could easily drift to sleep in this position, though he wasn't quite ready for that.

Actually, Wesley wasn't as comfortable as he might have liked to be, but he was so pleased to still be in Spike's embrace that he wouldn't have admitted it for the world. "I'm bigger than you," he pointed out after a minute or so. "Are you sure I'm not too heavy?"

Spike smiled up at him. "No, pet, you're not too heavy," he said with obvious amusement. "Vampire, remember? No need to breathe. But if you're not happy, I won't stop you from moving, as long as you don't go far."

"It's not that I'm not happy," Wesley explained, gingerly getting up onto his hands and knees before moving so that he was lying down next to Spike. "I just don't like the thought of crushing you."

Even next to him was too far, and Spike turned onto his side so that he could enfold Wesley in his arms. "I can lift you with one hand; you're not going to crush me."

Wesley closed his eyes and sighed happily. "You can't lift me with one hand. Unless you're only talking about one part of my anatomy."

"All right, if I didn't care about hurting you I could lift you with one hand," Spike corrected himself, feeling oddly disgruntled by Wesley's dismissal of his strength. "So I wouldn't, but you're still not going to crush me."

"I know." Wesley said it quietly, pressing himself in against Spike.

"You know what? That I can lift you or that you can't crush me?" Spike asked, shifting to draw Wesley in closer. "Or both, since they're both true."

"Both," Wesley said, although really he'd just been focused on the latter.

Spike pressed a soft kiss to Wesley's temple before resting his cheek against his hair. "Good. Wouldn't want you to forget what I am just because you're taller."

Wesley wrapped his arm around Spike's waist and held on, basking in the comfort of feeling cared for.

"Back in my day, we didn't have all those smoothies and vitamins and what-have-you to make you grow tall," Spike muttered, his hand tracing slow circles over Wesley's back. "Lived on boiled meat and soggy vegetables, didn't we? If you can call that living."

"It was living," Wesley protested mildly, thinking that it was a particularly apt phrasing for Spike, considering. "Do you think you'd have been taller if you'd had multi-vitamins and blended kelp drinks?"

Spike shrugged slightly, not wanting to dislodge Wesley from his grasp. "The way all the health nuts around here talk about them, couldn't've hurt. Not that they sound particularly good, even compared with boiled meat."

Tightening his arm slightly, Wesley said, "You're perfect the way you are."

Kissing Wesley's temple again, Spike smiled and said, "Thanks, pet. Enough people have liked how I look that I believe them. It's only a problem when someone thinks he's too heavy for me."

"It's not as though I want to," Wesley said.

Spike took a moment to try to figure out what Wesley meant but was unsuccessful. "Not as though you want to what?" he asked, moving his head a bit so that he could see at least a little of Wesley's face in case it afforded any clues.

"Want to think that," Wesley said, as if that clarified everything.

Spike wasn't sure that this conversation would be making much more sense even if he were sober. "You don't want to think you're heavy for me?"

"Exactly."

"Okay..." Spike didn't know how to respond to that, so he pressed his cheek back against Wesley's hair and waited to see if an explanation was forthcoming.

Wesley sighed. "You'd like me to explain, wouldn't you."

"If you want me to understand what you're talking about, you might want to," Spike replied.

"What if I don't want to talk about it?" Wesley asked.

Spike gently nuzzled Wesley's hair. "You don't have to, if you don't mind me being in the dark."

Wesley shifted his position slightly, not because he wasn't comfortable, but because he suddenly felt restless and on the spot. "I like that you don't think I'm too heavy," he started.

Readjusting his hold as Wesley moved, Spike settled comfortably back against him. "That's because you're not."

"No, I mean..." He paused, trying to find the proper words for something he didn't really even want to explain. "I like that you want to do that."

"Do what?" Spike asked. "Have you be on top of me?"

"Hold me," Wesley said, then added, with some difficulty, "Care for me."

Spike tightened his arms around Wesley and brushed his lips over the smooth skin of his forehead. "I'd be unhappy if you wouldn't let me do either, pet," he said softly. "I should be thanking you for wanting me to."

Continues here (http://www.livejournal.com/community/reality_bends/26615.html).

Could they actually be settling down for the night?

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