So, decision made, thought through for all of three seconds and then, unfortunately, executed.

Spike swung his arm wide and went for a full-on seated hug. “Ow!” He pulled his arm back and shook his stinging fingers.

“Excuse me?! What do you mean, ‘OW’?” Xander asked incredulously. “It’s me that’s just been hit in the eye! And, ironically? You’d think I would have seen it coming. What were you playing at, Spike?”

“Erm…I was going for the popcorn?”

“In my eye?”

“Erm…I was confused by the…dim lighting?”

Xander narrowed his one remaining good eye. It really wasn’t a good night as far as eyeballs were concerned. Not that his eyeballs were particularly concerned. But the rest of him was.

“I was swatting a fly?” Spike continued.

“Spike…,” Xander warned.

“Alright! Was just trying to put my arm around you.”

Xander half stared. “That was a hug? Geez. What counts as a kiss? A headbutt?”

“Actually, Goo’Lash demons headbutt as part of their mating ritual,” Spike helpfully supplied.

“Really? They do that? Doesn’t that hurt?”

“’Course not. Well, not unless a horn goes astray. I tell you, you don’t even want to hear about the oral sex.”

“No, I don’t think I do. But thanks anyway.”

“Then you’ve got your Chip’N’Dip’N demons. You don’t want to have sex with them. I made that mistake once. Can’t even look sideways at anything vaguely egg-shaped now.”

“I’ll cross them off my list,” Xander said, distractedly. He prodded the area around his eye and decided that it didn’t feel that bad at all.

“You alright, luv?”

Xander looked up at the softly spoken words. Spike did look genuinely sorry and genuinely regretful. Xander smiled. “I’ll live. As long as you go get me goobers.”

Spike nodded in agreement. “Consider it done,” he said. “And I’ll buy you dinner after.”

“Two desserts?”

“As many as you want.”

Xander’s eyes widened. “You might wanna take that back,” he grinned. Wow. As many desserts as he could eat? That was so worth getting smacked in the eye for. He was tempted to ask Spike to smack the other one and thus get at least two main courses.

Xander relaxed back into his seat as the trailers started and Spike left to get goobers and goodness knows what else.

So, Spike had tried to put his arm around him, huh? That was cool. Trouble was - would he try again? Or if Spike did try again, would Xander end up with a split lip or a broken nose?

A few latecomers shuffled past and ambled down to the front row.

Hey, here’s a radical thought! Maybe I could put my arm around Spike? I could do that. Could I? Yeah! I could totally do that!

…Or, maybe I could kiss him and then he’d kiss me and then we’d put our arms around each other and then…

The latecomers mumbled and grumbled at each other before dropping into the front row seats.

And then we’d be making out in the back row! I’ve always wanted to do that! Yeah, this is a great plan. Touchy, touchy, feely, feely; all in the dark. Yup. I’ve made up my mind. I’m definitely gonna grope Spike.

The mumbling, grumbling, front row inbreeds mumbled and grumbled louder.

“Bloody hell, there are some rough gits in this town, eh?” Spike observed with disgust at the blithering idiots at the front.

“Ignore them. Come sit.”

Spike was suspicious. It was so very unlike Xander to be so direct. He ignored the idiots and sat anyway.

Spike watched as Xander’s expression turned from fearful, to nervous, to a diver getting ready to spring from a diving board, perform a record breaking back flip/forward flip/whateverthefuckdiversdo, and then plummet into the pool below.

“You feeling…?” And that was as far as Spike got before Xander’s mouth descended on him and attacked with the enthusiasm of a zebra at a waterhole. And soon enough after that, Xander’s hands followed to touch, stroke and feel.

Bleedin’ hell! Spike thought. It must be Christmas!

Spike wasted no more time on something as pathetic as shock. He folded Xander into his arms and kissed him hard and deep – firm and wet. One hand tangled in Xander’s hair and tugged hard as Spike deepened the kiss further, spurred on by what sounded suspiciously like a whimper.

Spike cursed the cinema. Who the bloody hell invented them, anyway?! If it wasn’t for the damned cinema they could have been at Xander’s apartment, or the crypt – anywhere but somewhere where you couldn’t get naked!

One of Xander’s hands trailed down and, after a moment of hesitation, brushed over worn, black denim and squeezed Spike’s erection.

Between the moaning that Spike suddenly found himself doing and the sheer, utter shock that Xander was indeed a very bad boy, Spike almost missed the moment that a button popped and his zipper was lowered.

The inbreeds seemed to get upset by one of the seats. They ripped it from the floor and tossed it at the screen.

Spike pulled Xander closer and panted as Xander’s warm hand pumped him slowly and teasingly. “Fuck, pet. Yes. Little faster, luv. Yeah.”

The inbreeds grunted and argued amongst themselves.

“Fuck, Xan. Luv. Pet. Harder, luv. Just a bit.”

Xander’s hand was tiring. Were all hand jobs like this? His hand never ached when he did himself. Maybe it was the angle?

One mumbling idiot grabbed hold of one of his compatriots and pulled off his arm.

“Oh, Xan, yes! Just a little more… Yeah, like that. I’m nearly…”

“OOOOOOG!!!!” Cried the unfortunate inbreed with only the one remaining arm.

Spike growled and pushed Xander out of his line of sight. “Oi! Do you bloody mind? I’m trying to get off, here!”

The inbreeds slowly turned around, their eyes glowing in the darkness and their rotting flesh only just visible in the distance.

“Ummm,” said Xander.

“Ermm,” said Spike.

“BRAINS!!!” said the inbreeds.

Xander and Spike looked around the theatre. It was just them and the rotting corpse people. Marvellous.

The zombies lumbered towards them. “BRAINS!!!”

“Nope, none here,” Xander tried to stall. Just while Spike tucked himself away.

“Right. We got three choices,” Spike announced.

“We do?”

“Yup. One – we give them our brains. Two – we fight. Three – we get the fuck out, call the Slayer, and bugger off bowling instead – work up an appetite for dinner. Thoughts?”

“Ummm…You’ll let me pay for the lanes?”

“Yeah, why not?”

“…And we can get chips? I need to stretch my stomach ready for dinner. I can still have two desserts, right? ‘Cos, we made a deal, pal. You better not be thinking about welching just because a bunch of zombies show up unexpectedly,” Xander said, illustrating the word ‘zombies’ with a show of jazz hands.

“Xan, pet, sweet pea, you can have all the desserts and all the main courses and all the chips and all the lanes in the world as long as you stop gabbing and make up your mind.”

“Really? I can have…?”

“Xander!”

“Okay, okay! Ummm, run?”

“You got it.” Spike grabbed Xander’s arm and dragged him to the theatre door. Together they barrelled into the foyer and ran screaming into the night. “ZOMBIES! Everybody run for your lives!!!!”

Half an hour later, Xander pulled back his arm and prepared to bowl his ball. “Oh, shit! We forgot to call Buffy!”

TBC…