Title: Spot

Author: rebecca thecountergoddess

Fandom: The Young Ones

Pairing: Rick/Vyvyan

Rating: PG-13(?) - ish

Disclaimer: Don't own the boys. Wish like Hell I did..

Summary: Uhhh... discussion of acne and snoggage. Ooh, that sounds a bit gross, doesn't it?

'Oh no you don't, you bastard.' Vyvyan clamped a hand down on a denim-clad arse as his snogging
partner shifted in his arms.

Trying to get Rick up to his room each night unnoticed by Mike or Neil was no easy task. Now that
he'd gotten the Sociology student in the door and across his lap, the last thing he wanted to do was
talk bollocks. Which, unfortunately, was a habit Rick just couldn't seem to kick (if the puff even tried).

Vyv fought to contain his temper when the other boy's lips stilled against his, eyes snapping open
to glare into a pair of hugewatery blue ones burning holes in his skull.

"What?" he barked impatiently as Rick tentatively reached for him, lightly cradling the punk's face
in his hands.

"I think your spots are rubbing off on me," he smirked, absently thumbing a pock scar on Vyvyan's
chin that mirrored a particularly ripe spot on his own. Vyv caught the other boy's wrist and brought it
down to rest against his own tented jeans, grinding slowly into his palm.

'And who bloody attacks who every night?' Vyv grinned as Rick began to rock against his thighs
and hips.

Somehow, Vyvyan didn't believe his own complexion was the cause of Rick's bad luck with acne.
Judging by the two other spots next to his nose and the three or four on his chest beneath his
open shirt, the Sociology student didn't really need any more help in that area. And anyway, sex
was supposed to cure spots wasn't it? Something to do with hormone levels? He'd have to ask
Bleeding Jack or one of the other guys in his course about that.

Undaunted, the medical student nuzzled his face against his boyfriend's like a contented cat.

"How do you know they're from me?"

"What..?" Rick breathed, tipping his head back as Vyv drifted down to lap at his jaw and throat.

The other boy paused to nip at a familiar spot under Rick's chin.

"They could be from Neil."

The anarchist bolted upright, butting Vyv in the face and nearly knocking him back on the narrow
mattress.

"I wouldn't touch that dirty hippie's pustulating lips with a twelve-foot barge pole!"

Vyvyan was fairly certain 'pustulating' wasn't even a proper word, but ignored his boyfriend's use
of it and concentrated on his horrified expression.

"Who said you would?"

"You did! Just now."

"I was talking about that extra bottle of laxatives in the lentil casserole last week." Planting a
hand on either side underneath the shirt, Vyvyan shifted the brunette off of his lap and moved to
stretch out on top of him.

"Oh.. Oh yeah," Rick's expressions ran the gamut from horror to confusion to revelation (with a
touch of a grimace), ending with a rather breathless "Ohhh.." as Vyvyan shoved his free hand
down the front of his trousers.

Vyvyan grinned as Rick's half-hard cock lurched into his hand. Leaning over, he licked a path

from the spot on his chin to his ear.

"If Neil ever touches your lips or your spots, I'll kill him."

"..Really?"

"Really."

And, just to make sure the boy writhing beneath him got the point, he reached over and pinched
the spot on his chest.