AUTHORS: dru as Spike & Evil Willow as Xander (Go worship the goddess that is EW!)
SERIES: Chance Encounters
PREQUEL TO: Chance Encounters
Version : Xander-Spike
PAIRING : Spike/Xander
RATING : NC17 (highly slashy with plenty of salty goodness!)
DISCLAIMER : We do not own these
characters. We just like putting them in lewd positions!
NOTE: We wrote this as role-play
on Yahoo! IM! We had *so* much fun! We've co-authored before but never live like this! We hope you enjoy the fruits of
our lab- okay, so it wasn't really *work*. It was more like play!
DEDICATION: This fic is for
Vicky and her husband who apparently love us for the first one!
=====================================================================
THE
REQUEST
I
smile and go up to the bar tender. "I'd like to get a private dance with
the boy, Alex."
"No
fags." He says. "Males are for
females. Females, for males."
I smile
and say, "In this day and age, you should be more tolerant. But it doesn't
matter. My girlfriend really liked him. We... it gets her hot and then I put
out the fire... if you know what I mean."
"Five
hundred. Cash." He says and I hand him the money. "And this in no way
constitutes sex."
Sure it does, Mate. I think as I
walk away. Sure it does. You just don't know me.
Okay...
Calm down. Count the money again. You made a shit-load of it. $1500 fucking
dollars. Holy shit.
"Alex?"
Mike knocks.
"I'm
decent," I call and look over at him as he walks in.
"Great
dance, Man. You *sure* you haven't done that before?"
"Positive,"
I reply with a little smile. That was the first and last time.... well, tonight
is the first and last night. Because I still have four more dances.
Unless
Spike kills me first. Which at this point may not be all that bad a thing to
happen. Because if he *doesn't* I just KNOW he's gonna find a way to tell
everyone how I spent my summer. And I'd rather die.
"Hey,
what do you think of doing a private dance for an admiring customer?" he
asks.
Uh-uh.
There's no way he... I sigh with relief as I remember the rules. Guy strippers
dance for the females. "$500?"
"Yeah.
Of which you get half, plus the tips."
"Sure,
why not?" I shrug. Damn, I'm getting enough money to maybe quit this job earlier
than the end of august, and enjoy myself for a couple weeks before I go back to
Sunnydale.
"I'm glad you said that," Mike replies.
"Room number five, okay?" I nod and he leaves again. Okay, a private
audience. A private FEMALE audience. No Spike. That's of the good.
Ten
minutes. That's what they said. Good. I need a drink. I look around the room
and catch a man flashing hundred dollar bills around. Bingo. I need some cash.
I follow the man into the bathroom and make it quick. I take his billfold.
Major bingo! Five thousand, easy. Plus some stashed away in his shoe. All
together, from two shoes, a hidden pocket and the wallet, I've got twelve
thousand. Humans can be so stupid sometimes.
They
said room number five, down the hallway. The bouncer asks me for ID.
"Here's my ID." I say as I break his neck and drag him into the
bathroom with the former rich man. I don't have time for this.
I walk in. The room smells of sex. Yeah, sure, doesn't
constitute sex... sure. There's a chair and I'm not concerned about what's on
it. I'm far beyond worrying about disease. I vamp out and sit in the chair with
out my duster. And then I wait.
I
walk down the hall and pause. Huh? Where's Billy? There's *always* supposed to
be a bouncer here... just in case.
Stop
imagining things, Xander. Go. You have a customer waiting.
Right.
I walk to room number five, and walk in. I'm not looking at the girl yet. I put
on a pair of tight blue jeans and a white t-shirt this time. Something
different.
"I'm Alex," I say as I
turn to close the door. "But you already know that." I turn to look
back at her.
"What's
yo-" He freezes. I just smile at him. "Billy." He says in sorrow
and realization.
"He's
on a break." I say as I light up a cigarette.
"A
permanent one." He comments.
"Yes,
I suppose it is. But trust me, white light, eternal happiness, all his, free of
charge." He doesn't seem amused, not in the least. No one really gets my
humor.
I
point to him. "No leathers? I was looking forward to them." I let the
disappoint hang in the air for a minute.
"What
are you doing here, Spike?" He asks harshly.
"Enjoying
the show." I smile and take another drag.
"We
have rules... first of all no killing patrons... but since you've broken that
one... at least just go... no same sex private dances."
I just stand up and walk over to him so he's pressed against
the wall. "You *will* dance for me or everyone in there will die."
Then I let him go and sit back down. "Now dance."
What a
choice... "I ... I c-c-ould stake you." I wish I hadn't stuttered
when I said that. It would've sounded much more menacing.
"Oh tremendously convincing,
Alex... try it again? Without the stutter?"
"I...
I'll stake you. " I smile at him. He knows he's licked, figuratively now,
but physically later.
He just grins. "You wanna stake me, 'Alex'?" he
asks as he moves his hand over the bulge in his jeans and strokes himself. He
leers and yes, Spike, I get the double meaning there.
"Then
go ahead." I say. "Stake me good and proper. But make sure you do me
hard, otherwise I'll *still* go and kill those people."
He
knows. He knows that *I* know I couldn't win a fight with him, not if ... not
if *Buffy's* life depended on it. I sigh and slump back against the wall.
I
close my eyes. I'm licked and he knows it.
"If I do this..." I say, still not looking at
him. "If I dance..." I have to swallow a few times, because my
throat's dry. "If I dance, then you'll go? Leave me and everyone else
alive?" I open my eyes and look at him.
I stand
up and he moves back a little but finds nothing but the wall. I can see him
start for the doorknob but I just stare at him. He wouldn't make it out alive.
I stalk up next to him and press him against the wall. I lean in and slowly
lick his jugular. I can *feel* the blood rushing beneath, *smell* the fear and
confusion of a child and the faintest hint of man.
His
breath hitches as I scrap my fangs light along his throat and kiss his Adam's
apple lightly. I run my hands up the sides of his ribs before they land on the
sides of his head, against the wall, effectively pinning him there.
I look into his eyes and he's absolutely terrified. I twist
my neck a little and morph back to my human features, which I think relieves
him a little. "If you dance..." I start, "then everyone else can
go." Then, I lean in and whisper into his ear, "But I have yet to
decide about you."
Ok, Xander, breathe. Breathing's good. Necessary for living,
even if you don't have long but -- SHUT UP! One thing at a time, right now it's
breathing
I can dance for Spike... fuck, how twisted is my life that
I'm even faced with this predicament? I'll think about that later. Right now...
what would Buffy do?
Easy, she'd never be caught stripping by Spike in the first
place.
Okay then, bad analogy. What would .... shit, how's a guy
supposed to think with a vampire pressing him into the wall? Not that I'm
turned on or anything, it's just distracting.
"Okay." Shit, when did
I decide on that? Fuck it. "Fine. Would you... sit down though?" I motion
over to the chair. He just looks at me. His eyes are sooo blue. Fuck, I did
*not* just think that. "Please?" I add.
I lean forward as if to kiss him and he turns his head away.
I lick his ear before whispering, "You know you wouldn't make it out the
door alive if you run. Don't you?"
"N-n-..." Shit, Xan,
stop stuttering. "Not gonna run," I say. My life or the lives of
everyone in this place? Not a huge choice to make. My life isn't worth the
lives of all the others. So if he wants to kill me, he can. Especially if I can
distract him from killing everyone else, while he's busy tormenting me.
"I just..." I turn my
face to look into his eyes. His face is so close, too close. "... can't
concentrate when you're so close. You wanted a dance, so - please - sit down.
I'll dance." I close my eyes in complete humiliation at the situation.
"You'll dance? Or you'll
*dance*?" I ask as I grind against him a little. "Because I'm not
letting my money go to waste."
I bite my lip and ignore how hard my cock is. I'm not gay,
damn it! I'm just... scared. Yeah, that's it. The adrenaline from the fear,
it's got my body all confused.
"Money you worked *so* hard
for," I reply with a roll of my eyes. But then reconsider the brilliance
of taunting a soul-less killer. "But if you want the answer to your
question, then sit down. It's the only way you'll find out." Gathering all
my strength - or maybe stupidity - I put my hands on his shoulders and shove
him in the direction of the chair.
He
bloody shoved me! He fucking shoved me! He *shoved* me. *He* shoved *me*. He's
not supposed to shove me! No one's supposed to shove me. I can't believe he
fucking shoved me!
I growl and he winces, as if preparing to die. I grab him and
throw him against the wall. I pin him to the wall and watch as the emotions
play in his eyes. "*You* do *not* push *me* around." I growl as I
punctuate each word with a thrust of my hips. "Understand?"
Shit. Bad Xander.
"Sorry," I gasp, my eyes squeezed shut. "I'm sorry, Spike."
Sure those are my last words, I wait for the fangs to sink into my neck.
Shit. He's more scared than he is aroused now, and that won't
do. Not if I want him willingly. And I do. Very much. "That how you treat
all of your paying customers?" I mumble as I back off, just a little, so
I've still got him against the wall, but I'm not hurting him.
"N-n-no." Okay, why is it that my reaction around
Spike is to stutter like a frightened little kid? Um, maybe because he's a
blood-sucking vampire? Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.
"I'm just a little freaked out, okay?" Duh.
"This is *not* my usual job. I'm supposed to be the bartender here.
Tonight, after much nagging, I agreed to fill in for a guy who's sick. And just
my luck there *you* were and the whole situation's a little ... freaky," I
finish lamely. Apparently my other annoying habit around Spike is to babble
incoherently. How much better can this night get?
"So I'm not even assuming you want to make this any
easier on me, because I'm not *that* stupid... but I'm seriously having
personal space issues and if you just sat down the next 15 minutes would go a
lot more smoothly."
"Please."
Yeah,
because 'please' ALWAYS works on soul-less demons.
Well,
that seems reasonable. And I *do* like to think that I'm a reasonable guy,
vamp. And I *would* like my full fifteen minutes. But... I lift up another five
hundred. "There. You've got a half an hour." I whisper. "Don't
try anything. No tricks. No stunts. You're *not* stronger than me and you know
it." Then I take two steps back and he seems to relax. I take two more
back and he starts to walk, pointing towards the radio. I nod and he walks
over. But I don't sit down.
"Ya know, I wasn't supposed to
be here either, but the bloody car gave out and I'm stuck until I can another I
like." I say.
Lucky me.
I didn't say that out loud, did I? A quick glance over at
Spike tells me I didn't. Good. Watch the mouth, Xan. Try thinking *first*
speaking *next*. I've heard it works for other people.
"Why don't you... um..." I turn back to the
radio/cd player and look through the stash of CD's. "... take off your
coat? Get comfortable?" Not too comfortable, I hope. Cuz ew.
He chuckles, which makes me wonder if he can read minds.
I look over and see that he's lost the duster, it's draped
across the arm of the couch - and I'm not thinking about the couch. He looks at
me, as if he's challenging me to say something. I keep my mouth shut. Then he
shrugs and sits in the chair. Thank you thank you thank you.
And I'm also not staring at him, thinking how good he looks
in that red shirt... or the fact that I get a good view of his hard-on pressing
against his tight jeans. Xander, stop it! Right. My eyes drift up to his eyes,
which are laughing at me. Shit. Caught.
I turn away quickly and put in
the first CD I find. Pretty Hate Machine. This will work just fine. I start
"Head Like a Hole". It's got a good beat. Then I turn back to Spike.
Time to earn that - gulp - thousand dollars.
He turns and steals another glance at me, then he blushes. I
just smile and put my hands out as if to offer myself to him. "You can
look at anything I have, Luv." And I see him swallow unconsciously.
"I *have* after all, seen *you*." And his eyes blink and I raise my
eyebrow at him suggestively. It's time he knows what I'm looking for tonight.
Not even *if* Hell freezes over. I'm not gay
Maybe if I just don't reply, he'll get the message. Then
again, we *are* talking about Spike. He tends to have a one-track mind.
Remember the kidnapping of me and Willow that ended, oh so wonderfully, for all
of us? Yeah, that's better, remember why you hate his ass.
I turn back to the radio and
turn up the song. I wonder if I can just pretend I'm with Cordelia... before
she ended up hating me?
Yeah, that'll work. Spike and Cordelia look *so* much alike.
When I turn back he's giving me a 'what the hell are you
waiting for?' look. I can do this. Just like before, except... no females. Just
Spike. Spike and I. Alone. No big, burly bouncers to protect me. Fuck.
Move, Xander, or he's likely to get bored and go elsewhere
to find his... fun. Ack. Bad choice of words there. But, I take a deep breath
and close my eyes a second, getting into the music. Then I open them and walk
to stand in front of him.
I start to dance and hope Spike can keep his hands to
himself.
Yeah,
right.
If I
don't fucking come soon, I'm gonna fucking kill him. But then that would
severely limit the fuck-Xander plan. And I *really* like that plan.
He comes
to stand in front of me and starts to move. And this boy can *move*. He's got
rhythm. Either that or he doesn't have any and I'm just too damn horny to know
the difference. But I do. Angelus didn't have any. But Xander? He can dance. He
let's the music move his hands.
Over his chest, down his stomach and he rubs his crotch.
Right in front of me. I reach out to touch him, but he slaps my hands away.
"N-no touching. Rules," I think *I'm* gonna kill
me by the end of the night, if I keep stuttering.
He growls and I figure he's not gonna be patient about this.
So to keep him from ... whatever he might do if he's pissed off... I'll give
him something else to contemplate.
I keep moving to the music as my hands pull the hem of my
T-shirt out of my jeans. I've got his attention now. At least he's not groping
me
Then I
start to pull off my shirt.
I groan
and reach for his nipples but he slaps me away again. I growl loudly before I
realize that every time that I do, he gets less interested. And I *will* take him
willingly to my bed. Or the couch. Whatever. Makes no difference.
"N-no
touching, Spike." He says.
"Will."
I say.
"Will
what?" He asks.
"Call
me Will, *Alex*." I smile and he nods in understanding. Then I start to unzip
my jeans and his eyes grow wide. Half in shock and desire to turn away and half
in needing to see me. (Or at least it's what makes sense to me.)
"What
are you..." He asks, pointing to my hands, which are moments away from
touching my cock.
"I
can't touch you." I say. "So I'm gonna touch myself. Unless you want
to."
"Want
to what?"
"Touch me." I say with a
smile.
"No." Hey, I managed not to stutter that time.
He shrugs and slides his hand into his jeans and I am NOT
going to watch. Even though I can feel myself blushing. I close my eyes and run
my hands up to my nipples, circling them. But then I decide keeping my eyes
closed around Spike is a really bad idea.
So I talk myself into opening my eyes at the exact moment I
feel myself pulled down by the waist to straddle Spike's legs.
"SPIKE!" I yell and try to move, but he's got his hands on my thighs
holding me in place.
"Will," he says with a grin.
"What-the-fuck-ever, no touching!" Shit, I did
*not* agree to this.
"Calm down, Alex," he says, his fingers squeezing
my thighs a little and sending bad, lustful thoughts right to my brain. "I
just want a lap-dance, I decided."
"That's
what the couch is for!" SHUT THE FUCK UP, XANDER!
THE COUCH
I shrug
and before he knows it, I'd picked him up and we're on the couch with him in my
lap. "Okay then."
"NO!"
He says and he jumps up. "No. This is *not* what I signed up for at work
tonight. You've had your dance."
"Yes.
I have." I say. "But this is for your life."
"What?"
He says as he thinks about what I've said. "What?! If I don't... with
you... then you'll kill me?"
"A
lap dance." I say, correcting him. I stand up and walk towards him.
"A lap dance for your life." I say. "A good one."
"And
you won't kill me." He says, looking for reassurance. "And I don't...
have to... ya know."
I smile and take his hand. I pull him towards the couch and
pull him back down in my lap as I lick up his neck. "You're not gonna shag
me to save your life." I whisper and he breathes a sigh of relief. I laugh
and whisper into his ear, "You're gonna shag me because you *want*
to."
"N-n-not even *if* H-Hell freezes over." Shit.
Didn't mean to say that out loud.
"We'll see about that, Alex," he replies, leaning
back on the couch. "First things first. Lap-dance. Without the
jeans."
You know, it just occurred to me: maybe I died and it hasn't
occurred to me that I'm already *in* Hell. It sure feels like it.
I slide off his lap and he says, "You wouldn't even
make it to the door. I'm faster." I guess it shouldn't surprise me he
knows that was my plan. But he's right. I nod and force myself to stay standing
in front of him.
I notice the song that's playing now. 'Kinda I Want to.' Not
accurate, not at all. I don't want to do this.
I start moving to the beat though and my hands go to the
button of my jeans, popping it open. I can't help noticing he's stroking
himself again, which makes me even harder. Not a good thing when he's about to see
that. As if he doesn't know it already, though.
After a few more seconds of trailing my hands up my chest
and down again, I push the zipper down. And with a deep breath, I slide the
jeans off my hips, letting them fall to the floor. And now he knows. The stupid
white Speedo that was too small when I put it on, is really tight now.
I turn my back to him and I hear
a growl but I can't do this *looking* at him. I sit down, straddling his legs
and slide back until I'm leaning against his chest.
Oh.
Bloody. Hell.
Damn. My
cock is so fucking hard., throbbing with all the goddamned stolen blood that
makes me crazy enough to want to be here with the slayer's best friend. But at
this point, I really could give a fuck.
He
starts gyrating against me and I thrust up against him. He yelps but my hands
rest lightly on his hips to guide him a little. He leans back and I run my
hands up his sides and place a kiss on his back, right between his shoulder
blades. He just keeps dancing, rubbing against my cock and I can't help but
moan and kiss him again.
"Spike,"
He starts to whine.
I
place a finger over his lip. "No." I whisper into his ear.
"Don't be Xander. Be Alex."
"And
I suppose," He says as he continues to move against me, "That next
you'll tell me that you're Will, not Spike." I groan as he rubs his ass
against me harder. "But that's not the case, since you got in here with
fang."
"Alex doesn't know about vampires, Pet." I whisper
against his skin as I kiss his shoulder blades. "Xander wouldn't have been
up on stage in Vegas. Alex is wanton and sensual. *Alex* knows he *is*
sex."
Shit. If he keeps that up...
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
I continue to move against him as I contemplate that last comment.
I *am* sex? Funny, since I've only had sex once, with a girl who then tried to
kill me.
Shit, how do I get him to stop kissing me?
I sit back further, resting my back against his chest and my
head against his shoulder. Then I realize. Vampire. Fangs. My neck's a little
close. Shit I'm such an idiot sometimes.
But I stay there and keep
grinding my ass back against him. Because jumping away and screaming would be a
little too obvious a display of fear.
Ohbloodyjesusfuckingchrist!
His ass is so fucking tight! I can feel it even though... I start to kiss him
and he tries to shrug me off his shoulder so I move upwards. His pulse quickens
as I latch onto his jugular, no fangs involved. I suck for a few minutes and he
seems to grinding against me faster, harder, bucking his hips a little in the
process.
I start
kissing him again as I slip my fingers into the waistband of the Speedos. I
slip one hand inside and he yelps and tries to jump up. But my hands are around
him and he's got nowhere to go, except to be pulled back into my lap which
thrusts my cock against him harder and I stifle a moan.
My fingers start to pull the Speedos down. "NO!" He
yelps. But his protests are silenced when he feels my fangs grazing over the
place on his jugular where I just left a hickey.
I
freeze.
"Calm
down, Alex," he says, moving his fangs away. I sigh with relief. "I
just wanna *see* you. *All* of you. It's all part of the dance."
Like hell it is. But technically
he's right. "Fine. But *I'll* do it. And no t-t-t-touching!" I add,
pulling his hands away.
He
stands up, his back to me. "Turn around." I say while panting
needlessly. I reach for him as he starts to slide them down and touch his ass.
He jumps away.
"NO
TOUCHING!" He says, more annoyed now. "In fact, just sit on your
hands." He says. "Do it, or I won't turn around."
"Turn
around." I say again.
"Sit
on your hands."
"I *will* not." I say as
I stroke myself a little more. "But I'll give you an extra hundred to
touch you."
"Not
interested," I reply angrily. I pull the Speedos back up, ignoring his
yell of protest. Then I turn to look at him, and he's glaring. We're glaring at
each other.
That's
the way it *should* go with us
"You've
had your fun, 'humiliate the frightened teenager', *SPIKE*, I say. And I get
what *else* you want and I'm. Not. Interested. I'm not gay and not remotely
attracted to you. So if you want sex out of this you're gonna have to
rape..." Shit. I did *not* just say that. Brilliant, Xan, really. I turn,
intending to run for the door.
I
told him. Didn't I? I may have had a bottle of JD and Bailey's and a few shots
today, but I *know* I told him that I'm faster.
And
I am.
By
the time he turns to see where I am, I'm in front of him, blocking the door.
"Going somewhere, Pet?"
I'm
shaking now, and I'd like to pretend it's from anger but I'm fucking terrified.
Shit. This is it. Goodbye, Xander.
"I t-t-told you, the d-dance is OVER," I reply.
"And if you had *any* decency in you..." I laugh at that possibility.
"Who am I kidding? I get it. You're evil. You're dangerous. So just kill
me already. I don't care anymore." And with that, I sit down on the floor,
because it's as good a place as any to die.
He looks up at me for a second and I fall to my knees and capture
his lips with mine for a searing kiss. It happens so fast, he can't protest or
stop it and when I pull away, he's breathless. I place my hand on his cheek and
smile, "It was *never* about scaring you, Xander. It was only about
*you*." I tell him and that much is true. It was about me wanting him. I
place his t-shirt in his lap and stand up. Then I turn and head for the door.
Huh?
And
here I thought I was in Hell, but this is a much weirder place.
"Wait."
He
turns back to look at me.
"You're
gonna kill everyone else now, aren't you?" I ask. I failed, after all. I
freaked. He's just letting me live so I can know *I* killed them as much as
*he* did. So it was about me, in the sense that he was testing me to see if I
was strong enough to do what it took to save them.
And I wasn't.
"No." I say and he's
surprised and disbelieving. "I just wanna fuck, and they won't cut it
after this."
I gape at him, until I manage to close my mouth.
"You... Oh. You *came* here wanting to fuck someone, so I was as good as
any other. That's what you're saying, isn't it?" And I'm not sure why I
even care about his answer... but I do.
"No." I say as I put my
hand on the doorknob. "I'm saying that you were *better* than any
other."
"WHY?" Shit, Xander, let
him *leave* already. "Because I'm the Slayer's friend?"
"Have I once mentioned the
slayer?"
"Well... no, but you *can't* tell me you didn't *once*
think... while we were in this room, especially, about how much Buffy would
hate this. That wasn't a motivation at all?"
"Have you *seen* yourself
dance, Luv?"
"Huh?" The conversation
just took a turn and left me somewhere a few miles behind.
"Do you even *own* a
mirror?"
"Of
course I do," I frown. "But what does that have to do with
any..." Oh. I look up into his eyes, looking for signs of a cruel joke
here. He's gonna start laughing or something because he got me going for a
second. Thinking he actually finds me attractive.
And again, why I even care? Not
sure.
I shake my head. I'm not gonna play this game. I'm a fuckin'
*vampire*, not a goddamned therapist. I start to open the door and look back.
"Try being more of Alex, Xander. He's in you." I say and then turn
away. "I'm gonna go fuck someone else."
"WAIT!"
Wait?? Wait??? What the fuck is wrong with me!
He
stands there, his back still to me, the door opened.
I
don't want him to go. Why don't I want him to go? I'm seriously fucked up, I
guess. It's just.... *nobody* has ever looked at me, the way Spike looked at
me, earlier. EVER.
But he'll
leave unless I say something. Another person, well, not person, but anyway.
Another 'what if'. Just like Wills and Cordelia. And a part of me is screaming
"This is Spike!" And "He's evil!"
Yeah,
and yeah. But he *didn't* try to kill me and he *still* doesn't want to. He
said this was about me. Not Buffy, not mind games, just me.
Or
at least the me that he saw tonight. Alex.
Do I
really have him in me? I thought it was all just a game. But--
He
takes a step into the hallway.
Shit. "Wait! Will, please
... come back."
I
hear him. But I ignore him. I walk out and close the door behind me.
ONTO THE RETURN & THE INTERRUPTION
BACK TO THE HOME OF CHANCE ENCOUNTERS