Truth Denied 18/?
Title: Truth Denied 18/?
Pairings: Spander (eventually)
Appropriate Ratings: NC17 overall but this chapter... pg-13
Warnings: Not much for this chappie, just... uhh... graphic descriptions? Kinda... sorta.
Disclaimers: Not my characters. I make no money off this, I'm just playing. I promise to give them a bath and thorough cleaning when I’m done! Joss Whedon is my lord and Master. All hail Joss Whedon.
Short Summary: About five years post NFA, Xander needs a job, like, NOW! And runs into someone he knows where he'd least expect it.
Word Count: 1906 (As per MS Word Count)
Beta: Tamakin
X-posted to: perverted_pages, bloodclaim, BTVS_lightsout, BTVS_slash, btvsatsdotcom, darker_spike, spike_fics, sxandviolence, spanderslash, darker_vault, sickchicks, spike_xander, xander_slash, i_need_a_parrot, all_fics_btvs, nekid_spike
Archived Outside LJ At: adultfanfiction.net and The Spander Files
Comments keep my muse well fed.
Find a topless, low pant riding Spike banner beneath the cut!
Click the picture to leave the artist a comment!
by tamakin
By the time the clock over the door said seven Xander was breathing hard and sweating freely. After he’d played his choice of music to Spike the blond had smirked, spun him around, and got right to work with the new routine. Of course this meant Xander was worked till he thought he was going to pass out, but that was alright… at least he got to pretend while wrapped in Spike’s arms and having that heated skin dance along his that this time… it was real.
It wasn’t.
It never was.
He liked to pretend though. Pretend he was worthy of love and affection, worthy of tender touches and heated caresses, worthy of being held. Though he supposed it was still a trade up, he may not be worthy of those things, but at least he was worthy to teach; so he learned. He worked at it when Spike showed up for their daily rehearsals but he worked harder when he was alone. He was going to do nothing to make Spike ashamed of him, nothing to let him down, it meant too much now. So when he asked Spike to be let out early, it was easily one of the most uncomfortable things he’d ever had to do.
Then again, trying to look Spike in the face when asked why… that was so much worse. I need a better scale to decide these things, because really, bad things happen to me and I’d like to look back one day and say “Hey, remember when I thought this used to be a eight? Oh, hah hah hah it’s nothing more than a two at most!” and I can look back and realize just how much worse my life sucks than it did before. Or something.
He felt bad the moment he brought it up, but the supportive and accepting look and smile nearly broke him. He wasn’t sure what Spike thought his appointment was, but he was rather sure it wasn’t what was actually going to happen.
He didn’t see the pensive look on Spike’s face, or the hungry stare while he walked to the bathroom for a shower. The only thing he saw was Spike happily letting him go, and he couldn’t understand why that hurt. It was what he’d wanted, right?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Spike rubbed his shoulder, wincing as a dribble of sweat slithered into a particularly deep abrasion. Xander had been too distracted to notice Spike wasn’t at the top of his game but he’d still worked hard.
Something was happening, right in front of him, but he was still missing it. He could feel it going on all around him, but he was too slow to catch what it was. Chad hadn’t been able to meet his eyes all night, and that was saying something. The bartender has caroused and flirted as usual with his patrons, but couldn’t look Spike in the eye.
He rubbed his own eyes tiredly and walked off to his bedroom, to peel off sweat soaked clothing and wait for Xander to finish his shower.
He couldn’t stop staring at the connecting door and if he paced his way to it with a purposeful stride, he pretended he was just pacing aimlessly and randomly. He had no reason to want to open the door. Open the door and slide into a steam filled shower and offer a delectable brunet to wash his back. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but he didn’t want that. Of course he didn’t. Why would he? Not like the whelp would ever want him back, not like he’d ever get the guts to make the first move, not with Xander.
He rummaged around in his closet, and waited for Xander to leave… for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to watch him leave the apartment.
By the time he heard the front door click shut, heralding his housemate’s departure, he explained the knot in his stomach as hunger, because he couldn’t understand why it would be anything else.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Xander paced outside the apartment, folding and refolding the ragged business card. It was no longer pale gold, more like really dirty ivory with a couple of flecks of gold shimmer here and there. Really dirty ivory with heavy crease marks. I may be gay, but do I have to be so stereotypical? He snorted to himself and slid the card back into his pocket.
He looked down at himself one final time in dismay. The only pair of jeans that had been clean were his stage jeans and those were indecently tight. Unfortunately since he had no idea what was supposed to happen he’d clung to the clue like a lifeline and wore them anyways. At least I’ll be less embarrassed this way, what with fitting in better, when I totally break down in front of Chad and beg him not to think I’m a tease for being such a frikkin’ tease! He let out a frustrated groan, and started when he heard an answering noise from inside.
He stood agape and stared almost incomprehensively as the door opened inwards without him once having knocked on it. You weren’t supposed to open yet!! It was supposed to be, me get ready emotionally to deal with… this! Then knock on door, then have door open, then talk to Chad!! Not just stand here and have nothing to say and have Chad just… annnnnnnnnd he’s staring at me. Yup, staring at me, staring at him. Because goddam does he look good and that’s all I can think about, but so not something I should say because of what I’m gonna have to say and I so need to un-thank Willow for teaching me the babble. It’s so totally her fault, I never babbled before I met her! Not that I could focus my eyes or make coherent sounds when I met her, but I know it was totally her fault! Aaaaaaaaaaand he’s still staring at me staring. Staring at me staring at him staring at me… you know, this could go on for a while… one of us should like… break the silence or something. Just not me, because… well… I think we’d communicate better with actual words instead of vowel sounds.
Chad licked his lips and smirked softly, jerking his head towards his apartment, Xander followed while still trying to get enough spit to make talking possible. Never mind that he still didn’t know what to say, one problem at a time!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He was sitting on a pale beige couch holding a glass of wine in his hands. The lights were low, only candles were lit strategically around the room. Chad was sprawled on his side on a fake bearskin rug in front of a fireplace. They were talking, even though it felt more like a seductive interrogation. Chad apparently wanted to know all about him, and Xander had been too tongue tied to do anything but babble out answers and explanations almost defensively. Thankfully, it all seemed to amuse him, so Xander wasn’t that worried that he’d ruined the friendship.
Chad leaned back and drained his glass languidly while his eyes roamed Xander’s tense body. Xander leaned forward and inhaled a breath to finally just come clean and tell Chad he had no chance when he said something that Xander completely missed. He exhaled his breath in a puzzled grunt, “Whuh?”
“I said, let me paint you. I was an artist for a while before I realized just how hungry artists were,” he stood up and towered over Xander, extending his hand down to him to help him to his feet.
“I don’t do the naughty kinds of pictures on a first date,” he said defensively before he realized what he’d said. Gawd dammit! He tried to jump in and come clean, “Look, Chad, I don’t think you realize-”
“-Doesn’t matter, want you on my canvas.” Chad smirked and bit his lower lip in clear innuendo to just what other ways he wanted Xander on his canvas.
“No, you should know, I’m not looking for-” He tried to continue in a mild panic but was cut of by Chad’s bark of laughter.
“Honey, I don’t want to marry you, I want to paint you. If anything else happens… bonus, I won’t say no. If nothing else happens I’ll still have a new piece for the bedroom. You wouldn’t begrudge me that, would you Xander?” Fingers laced through his, and pulled him to his feet before he could think of an answer.
“Just don’t expect anything, okay?” He had to get the ground rules out. A little posing for a painter was not beyond his previous work experience, a little hanky panky on the side was.
“No worries sweety, I know no means no, I’d just love to capture you.” He tilted his face, every word painting a warm breeze on Xander’s moist lower lip. “You have this… expression around the eyes,” his free hand ghosted around his eyes, the wineglass had been shed sometime when Xander hadn’t been paying attention. Not that he was paying much attention, it was actually quite hard to pay attention because Chad hadn’t let go of his hand and his fingers were deftly stroking the inside of his wrist and that was quite very distracting.
What the hell is it with really hot guys hitting on me tonight? Or the whole… personal space thing no one seems to be respecting! What the hell? Am I in heat? Am I giving off some kinda pheromone and it’s got all the boys randy for a little Xan-man action? Not that the little-Xan is that little, but it’s a figure of… oh for, I don’t have to defend myself to myself! I am not that pathetic! But, apparently talking to myself in my head while a really cute guy looks searchingly into my eyes I do do. Why am I pathetic? Like… so very very pathetic.
He mentally shook himself and took a sip of wine, pushing gently past Chad and headed towards the back of the apartment. “Fine, as long as you never tell me anything else about the portrait ever again. I don’t want to know what it sees, or what you do looking at it, nothing, nada, zip, zilch, got it?” He called over his shoulder. He couldn’t bare to say the words to his face. His hands trembled and shook so he hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and kept walking.
He missed the heated look and the not-so-subtle shifting and rearranging Chad was doing as things got a little… constricted. He also didn’t see the hungry look and shoulders set determinedly as he was followed. “Deal Xan, I’ll paint it and never tell you anything about it again.”
“Good, because I’m just doing this because you asked as a friend, and because I feel like this is a good way to pay you back for everything you’ve helped me with.”
“Deal, I promise. Unless you ask just right, I’ll keep any stories about your painting to myself.”
“Thanks.”
“No, thank you.”
Why does it feel like I’ve just sold my soul to the devil? Why do I always end up in these situations?
Previous Chapter
Next Chapter
Previous parts found here.
Pairings: Spander (eventually)
Appropriate Ratings: NC17 overall but this chapter... pg-13
Warnings: Not much for this chappie, just... uhh... graphic descriptions? Kinda... sorta.
Disclaimers: Not my characters. I make no money off this, I'm just playing. I promise to give them a bath and thorough cleaning when I’m done! Joss Whedon is my lord and Master. All hail Joss Whedon.
Short Summary: About five years post NFA, Xander needs a job, like, NOW! And runs into someone he knows where he'd least expect it.
Word Count: 1906 (As per MS Word Count)
Beta: Tamakin
X-posted to: perverted_pages, bloodclaim, BTVS_lightsout, BTVS_slash, btvsatsdotcom, darker_spike, spike_fics, sxandviolence, spanderslash, darker_vault, sickchicks, spike_xander, xander_slash, i_need_a_parrot, all_fics_btvs, nekid_spike
Archived Outside LJ At: adultfanfiction.net and The Spander Files
Comments keep my muse well fed.
Find a topless, low pant riding Spike banner beneath the cut!
Click the picture to leave the artist a comment!
by tamakin
By the time the clock over the door said seven Xander was breathing hard and sweating freely. After he’d played his choice of music to Spike the blond had smirked, spun him around, and got right to work with the new routine. Of course this meant Xander was worked till he thought he was going to pass out, but that was alright… at least he got to pretend while wrapped in Spike’s arms and having that heated skin dance along his that this time… it was real.
It wasn’t.
It never was.
He liked to pretend though. Pretend he was worthy of love and affection, worthy of tender touches and heated caresses, worthy of being held. Though he supposed it was still a trade up, he may not be worthy of those things, but at least he was worthy to teach; so he learned. He worked at it when Spike showed up for their daily rehearsals but he worked harder when he was alone. He was going to do nothing to make Spike ashamed of him, nothing to let him down, it meant too much now. So when he asked Spike to be let out early, it was easily one of the most uncomfortable things he’d ever had to do.
Then again, trying to look Spike in the face when asked why… that was so much worse. I need a better scale to decide these things, because really, bad things happen to me and I’d like to look back one day and say “Hey, remember when I thought this used to be a eight? Oh, hah hah hah it’s nothing more than a two at most!” and I can look back and realize just how much worse my life sucks than it did before. Or something.
He felt bad the moment he brought it up, but the supportive and accepting look and smile nearly broke him. He wasn’t sure what Spike thought his appointment was, but he was rather sure it wasn’t what was actually going to happen.
He didn’t see the pensive look on Spike’s face, or the hungry stare while he walked to the bathroom for a shower. The only thing he saw was Spike happily letting him go, and he couldn’t understand why that hurt. It was what he’d wanted, right?
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Spike rubbed his shoulder, wincing as a dribble of sweat slithered into a particularly deep abrasion. Xander had been too distracted to notice Spike wasn’t at the top of his game but he’d still worked hard.
Something was happening, right in front of him, but he was still missing it. He could feel it going on all around him, but he was too slow to catch what it was. Chad hadn’t been able to meet his eyes all night, and that was saying something. The bartender has caroused and flirted as usual with his patrons, but couldn’t look Spike in the eye.
He rubbed his own eyes tiredly and walked off to his bedroom, to peel off sweat soaked clothing and wait for Xander to finish his shower.
He couldn’t stop staring at the connecting door and if he paced his way to it with a purposeful stride, he pretended he was just pacing aimlessly and randomly. He had no reason to want to open the door. Open the door and slide into a steam filled shower and offer a delectable brunet to wash his back. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but he didn’t want that. Of course he didn’t. Why would he? Not like the whelp would ever want him back, not like he’d ever get the guts to make the first move, not with Xander.
He rummaged around in his closet, and waited for Xander to leave… for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to watch him leave the apartment.
By the time he heard the front door click shut, heralding his housemate’s departure, he explained the knot in his stomach as hunger, because he couldn’t understand why it would be anything else.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Xander paced outside the apartment, folding and refolding the ragged business card. It was no longer pale gold, more like really dirty ivory with a couple of flecks of gold shimmer here and there. Really dirty ivory with heavy crease marks. I may be gay, but do I have to be so stereotypical? He snorted to himself and slid the card back into his pocket.
He looked down at himself one final time in dismay. The only pair of jeans that had been clean were his stage jeans and those were indecently tight. Unfortunately since he had no idea what was supposed to happen he’d clung to the clue like a lifeline and wore them anyways. At least I’ll be less embarrassed this way, what with fitting in better, when I totally break down in front of Chad and beg him not to think I’m a tease for being such a frikkin’ tease! He let out a frustrated groan, and started when he heard an answering noise from inside.
He stood agape and stared almost incomprehensively as the door opened inwards without him once having knocked on it. You weren’t supposed to open yet!! It was supposed to be, me get ready emotionally to deal with… this! Then knock on door, then have door open, then talk to Chad!! Not just stand here and have nothing to say and have Chad just… annnnnnnnnd he’s staring at me. Yup, staring at me, staring at him. Because goddam does he look good and that’s all I can think about, but so not something I should say because of what I’m gonna have to say and I so need to un-thank Willow for teaching me the babble. It’s so totally her fault, I never babbled before I met her! Not that I could focus my eyes or make coherent sounds when I met her, but I know it was totally her fault! Aaaaaaaaaaand he’s still staring at me staring. Staring at me staring at him staring at me… you know, this could go on for a while… one of us should like… break the silence or something. Just not me, because… well… I think we’d communicate better with actual words instead of vowel sounds.
Chad licked his lips and smirked softly, jerking his head towards his apartment, Xander followed while still trying to get enough spit to make talking possible. Never mind that he still didn’t know what to say, one problem at a time!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
He was sitting on a pale beige couch holding a glass of wine in his hands. The lights were low, only candles were lit strategically around the room. Chad was sprawled on his side on a fake bearskin rug in front of a fireplace. They were talking, even though it felt more like a seductive interrogation. Chad apparently wanted to know all about him, and Xander had been too tongue tied to do anything but babble out answers and explanations almost defensively. Thankfully, it all seemed to amuse him, so Xander wasn’t that worried that he’d ruined the friendship.
Chad leaned back and drained his glass languidly while his eyes roamed Xander’s tense body. Xander leaned forward and inhaled a breath to finally just come clean and tell Chad he had no chance when he said something that Xander completely missed. He exhaled his breath in a puzzled grunt, “Whuh?”
“I said, let me paint you. I was an artist for a while before I realized just how hungry artists were,” he stood up and towered over Xander, extending his hand down to him to help him to his feet.
“I don’t do the naughty kinds of pictures on a first date,” he said defensively before he realized what he’d said. Gawd dammit! He tried to jump in and come clean, “Look, Chad, I don’t think you realize-”
“-Doesn’t matter, want you on my canvas.” Chad smirked and bit his lower lip in clear innuendo to just what other ways he wanted Xander on his canvas.
“No, you should know, I’m not looking for-” He tried to continue in a mild panic but was cut of by Chad’s bark of laughter.
“Honey, I don’t want to marry you, I want to paint you. If anything else happens… bonus, I won’t say no. If nothing else happens I’ll still have a new piece for the bedroom. You wouldn’t begrudge me that, would you Xander?” Fingers laced through his, and pulled him to his feet before he could think of an answer.
“Just don’t expect anything, okay?” He had to get the ground rules out. A little posing for a painter was not beyond his previous work experience, a little hanky panky on the side was.
“No worries sweety, I know no means no, I’d just love to capture you.” He tilted his face, every word painting a warm breeze on Xander’s moist lower lip. “You have this… expression around the eyes,” his free hand ghosted around his eyes, the wineglass had been shed sometime when Xander hadn’t been paying attention. Not that he was paying much attention, it was actually quite hard to pay attention because Chad hadn’t let go of his hand and his fingers were deftly stroking the inside of his wrist and that was quite very distracting.
What the hell is it with really hot guys hitting on me tonight? Or the whole… personal space thing no one seems to be respecting! What the hell? Am I in heat? Am I giving off some kinda pheromone and it’s got all the boys randy for a little Xan-man action? Not that the little-Xan is that little, but it’s a figure of… oh for, I don’t have to defend myself to myself! I am not that pathetic! But, apparently talking to myself in my head while a really cute guy looks searchingly into my eyes I do do. Why am I pathetic? Like… so very very pathetic.
He mentally shook himself and took a sip of wine, pushing gently past Chad and headed towards the back of the apartment. “Fine, as long as you never tell me anything else about the portrait ever again. I don’t want to know what it sees, or what you do looking at it, nothing, nada, zip, zilch, got it?” He called over his shoulder. He couldn’t bare to say the words to his face. His hands trembled and shook so he hooked his thumbs through his belt loops and kept walking.
He missed the heated look and the not-so-subtle shifting and rearranging Chad was doing as things got a little… constricted. He also didn’t see the hungry look and shoulders set determinedly as he was followed. “Deal Xan, I’ll paint it and never tell you anything about it again.”
“Good, because I’m just doing this because you asked as a friend, and because I feel like this is a good way to pay you back for everything you’ve helped me with.”
“Deal, I promise. Unless you ask just right, I’ll keep any stories about your painting to myself.”
“Thanks.”
“No, thank you.”
Why does it feel like I’ve just sold my soul to the devil? Why do I always end up in these situations?
Previous Chapter
Next Chapter
Previous parts found here.