Metropolis Nights
After the plans, in Metropolis, this is how things got started between Spike and Xander. (note, this does include naughty touching)
Masterpost
Well, Xander had pegged it. Anya had forgotten all about him after the first five minutes of dinner with Grandfather William’s business associates. By the time the younger set was slinking off to hit the clubs, she had half the lawyers of Metropolis dancing attendance, and job offers from two stock brokerages (direct from the partners).
She was going to be just fine.
Without him.
Not wanting to continue watching the love of his young life wine and dine her way into the world of the rich and famous, Xander left to join the bored and youthful rich in drink and dance.
Spike followed him.
Xander still couldn’t believe his grandfather had invited Spike to Metropolis. He knew everything, and still…
And Xander had thought the world was weird when he was fifteen.
Dancing. That’s what he needed. Dancing, a little alcohol. Maybe a few minutes in a back room.
Gods, he needed to get laid.
~o0o~
Spike was bored. The circles Xander’s grandfather frequented were not his favorites. Dinner had been a bore, even if Anya was in raptures. Watching Xander watch Anya sadly had not helped. Bloody puppy dog eyes.
The club was a slight improvement, but the alcohol was barely better than what the bronze served and the music was just as nauseating. Watching the dance floor was nice, but all that tempting flesh and no ability to bite… made his teeth ache.
He could leave. Find someplace with better booze. He had money enough for that and a cab home, had an invite to old William’s house. Though why the old man trusted him so was a mystery.
Or why Xander was apparently trusting him.
Sighing, Spike turned away another girl who was definitely under age and very, very high on something. Maybe he should find Xander and let him know before wandering off. It would be… polite. Friendly. Not that the boy couldn’t find his own way home.
Eyes scanning over the bar area, the dance floor, Spike looked for Xander. He did not expect what he found.
Sure, he’d seen the boy in his clubbing clothes, something he’d never wear in Sunnydale. Too tight. Too black. To Angel in a lot of ways. Looked good though.
On the dance floor he looked even better. Neck exposed, hair tossed aside, shirt half open, arms bare. Not flailing as he always did back home. No, here he moved to the beat, sinuous, hips gliding shapes in the air.
Mine!
The thought rocked through him, the desire, the need. Damn, despite his comment to Angel that hadn’t really been his goal. But his demon wanted to reach out…
His eyes followed Xander closely. He wanted, wanted to hold, wanted to mark. No bites. He couldn’t bite. No collar. No, never hide that beautiful neck. Wrists flashed past, golden brown against black silk. A shackle, or a chain. With a spike. Silver to contrast or gold to match?
He couldn’t be thinking this.
Want. Take. Have.
Spike struggled with sanity, with reality. The boy was armed, he knew that. Trying anything, wanting anything, would get him staked most likely. It would solve his chip problems, but not in a fun way. Boy was straight. Bloody boring perspective, but straight.
Reality snapped when Spike noticed the hands on his boy’s hips. Big hands. Masculine hands. Even as he scanned up to find the man attached, Xander swiveled in his dance partner’s arms and planted a kiss on male lips. Screw lips, that was full on tongue, vertical sex.
Spike was on the dance floor an instant later, hands sliding under those of the bastard touching what was his. He yanked Xander out of the other man’s arms, pulling him close, hissing, fangs bared, over his pet’s shoulder.
The man, quite reasonably, took several startled steps backwards and tripped, landing on his back. The dance floor turned to look, and Spike slipped backwards through the crowd with his prize.
Xander didn’t seem to mind for some reason. He turned in Spike’s arms, raising an eyebrow at the angry look until Spike returned to his human face. And he continued to dance, trailing his fingers over Spike’s shoulders, curling around his neck, cupping his cheeks. And if that wasn’t enough, rubbing everywhere.
Spike melted into Xander, rolling his body to the rhythm of the other man rather than the music. Lips brushed close to his ear.
“Care to tell me what that was about?”
Closing his eyes, Spike leaned in and sniffed. Blood under skin. Sawdust. Sunlight. Xander. “Mine.”
He was pulled away from the neck, but not shoved away. Turned. When Spike opened his eyes, he saw the edge of the dance floor, but he felt Xander pressing tight behind him. Hands on his hips, caressing the edges of his jeans. Tingles ran through his skin. Tight black jeans became tighter.
Lips brushing his ear again. “I’m tired of being owned.”
Finger slid up, flicking his nipples through his shirt. A tongue trailed along his jaw. Xander’s cock, hard in his pants, ground into his ass.
Spike moaned.
He wrapped his hands around Xander’s hips, pulling the boy closer. He arched, grinding back. Xander’s hands worked back down, one gripping Spike’s hip, the other cupping him in his jeans.
“I just want to have a bit of fun,” Xander whispered. “Nothing serious. Not tonight.”
“Nothing serious,” Spike hissed between his teeth, caught between grinding back and arching forward. It had been far too long. He didn’t know if Xander heard, didn’t care as long as he kept doing….
Xander chuckled, then bit, sinking his teeth into Spike’s neck, right over the vein.
Spike came, cries of pleasure unvoiced as the air caught in his dead lungs and refused to move.
“See you at home,” Xander whispered, then vanished into the dancing crowd while Spike was still trying to rediscover his legs.
Once he was secure on his pins, Spike circled the dance floor twice and considered his options. Xander now knew of his interest. And hadn’t killed him. But had vanished.
Fuck it, he needed new pants, and the blood was back at William’s house. Probably had better booze stashed there too. Spike’d sort out the rest when he was properly drunk. Or hung over. Without Xander, this place blew.
~o0o~
Xander slipped into the shadows under the stairs, the same place he’d rescued a man from a vampire just last year. This time he was rescuing himself.
Shit, what the hell had he been thinking?
He hadn’t been thinking. Gerald had put his tongue down Xander’s throat and though had stopped. Same as last year.
Well that was an event that wouldn’t be repeated. Gerald hadn’t missed the vampire that almost got him last year, and would be long gone.
Had he really just danced with Spike? Not just dance, damn near fucked. On the dance floor. And Spike had come.
Xander shuddered, remembering the feeling of moisture seeping through the vampire’s jeans. He rubbed the same hand over his own pants, which just made them feel tighter.
“Don’t think with your dick, Xander,” he snapped at himself. That had gotten him in trouble with Cordie, with Faith. Had gotten him into a relationship with Anya. Well, was that last one really so bad?
Maybe not, but Spike?
Okay, he was not going to think about this anymore. Not tonight. Slipping out of the shadows, he scanned the nearby scene. Crystal was dancing, but still wouldn’t talk to him after he ditched her last year to save tall, pale, and bald. Her brother, Christopher, however, was by the bar. And he still liked Xander.
Slinking closer, Christopher’s eyes met Xander’s, and the blond man smiled. Small and compact, he looked like a masculine version of his twin. Oh yeah, Xand man was getting some tonight.
Then he’d figure out what the hell was going on with Spike.
Masterpost
Well, Xander had pegged it. Anya had forgotten all about him after the first five minutes of dinner with Grandfather William’s business associates. By the time the younger set was slinking off to hit the clubs, she had half the lawyers of Metropolis dancing attendance, and job offers from two stock brokerages (direct from the partners).
She was going to be just fine.
Without him.
Not wanting to continue watching the love of his young life wine and dine her way into the world of the rich and famous, Xander left to join the bored and youthful rich in drink and dance.
Spike followed him.
Xander still couldn’t believe his grandfather had invited Spike to Metropolis. He knew everything, and still…
And Xander had thought the world was weird when he was fifteen.
Dancing. That’s what he needed. Dancing, a little alcohol. Maybe a few minutes in a back room.
Gods, he needed to get laid.
~o0o~
Spike was bored. The circles Xander’s grandfather frequented were not his favorites. Dinner had been a bore, even if Anya was in raptures. Watching Xander watch Anya sadly had not helped. Bloody puppy dog eyes.
The club was a slight improvement, but the alcohol was barely better than what the bronze served and the music was just as nauseating. Watching the dance floor was nice, but all that tempting flesh and no ability to bite… made his teeth ache.
He could leave. Find someplace with better booze. He had money enough for that and a cab home, had an invite to old William’s house. Though why the old man trusted him so was a mystery.
Or why Xander was apparently trusting him.
Sighing, Spike turned away another girl who was definitely under age and very, very high on something. Maybe he should find Xander and let him know before wandering off. It would be… polite. Friendly. Not that the boy couldn’t find his own way home.
Eyes scanning over the bar area, the dance floor, Spike looked for Xander. He did not expect what he found.
Sure, he’d seen the boy in his clubbing clothes, something he’d never wear in Sunnydale. Too tight. Too black. To Angel in a lot of ways. Looked good though.
On the dance floor he looked even better. Neck exposed, hair tossed aside, shirt half open, arms bare. Not flailing as he always did back home. No, here he moved to the beat, sinuous, hips gliding shapes in the air.
Mine!
The thought rocked through him, the desire, the need. Damn, despite his comment to Angel that hadn’t really been his goal. But his demon wanted to reach out…
His eyes followed Xander closely. He wanted, wanted to hold, wanted to mark. No bites. He couldn’t bite. No collar. No, never hide that beautiful neck. Wrists flashed past, golden brown against black silk. A shackle, or a chain. With a spike. Silver to contrast or gold to match?
He couldn’t be thinking this.
Want. Take. Have.
Spike struggled with sanity, with reality. The boy was armed, he knew that. Trying anything, wanting anything, would get him staked most likely. It would solve his chip problems, but not in a fun way. Boy was straight. Bloody boring perspective, but straight.
Reality snapped when Spike noticed the hands on his boy’s hips. Big hands. Masculine hands. Even as he scanned up to find the man attached, Xander swiveled in his dance partner’s arms and planted a kiss on male lips. Screw lips, that was full on tongue, vertical sex.
Spike was on the dance floor an instant later, hands sliding under those of the bastard touching what was his. He yanked Xander out of the other man’s arms, pulling him close, hissing, fangs bared, over his pet’s shoulder.
The man, quite reasonably, took several startled steps backwards and tripped, landing on his back. The dance floor turned to look, and Spike slipped backwards through the crowd with his prize.
Xander didn’t seem to mind for some reason. He turned in Spike’s arms, raising an eyebrow at the angry look until Spike returned to his human face. And he continued to dance, trailing his fingers over Spike’s shoulders, curling around his neck, cupping his cheeks. And if that wasn’t enough, rubbing everywhere.
Spike melted into Xander, rolling his body to the rhythm of the other man rather than the music. Lips brushed close to his ear.
“Care to tell me what that was about?”
Closing his eyes, Spike leaned in and sniffed. Blood under skin. Sawdust. Sunlight. Xander. “Mine.”
He was pulled away from the neck, but not shoved away. Turned. When Spike opened his eyes, he saw the edge of the dance floor, but he felt Xander pressing tight behind him. Hands on his hips, caressing the edges of his jeans. Tingles ran through his skin. Tight black jeans became tighter.
Lips brushing his ear again. “I’m tired of being owned.”
Finger slid up, flicking his nipples through his shirt. A tongue trailed along his jaw. Xander’s cock, hard in his pants, ground into his ass.
Spike moaned.
He wrapped his hands around Xander’s hips, pulling the boy closer. He arched, grinding back. Xander’s hands worked back down, one gripping Spike’s hip, the other cupping him in his jeans.
“I just want to have a bit of fun,” Xander whispered. “Nothing serious. Not tonight.”
“Nothing serious,” Spike hissed between his teeth, caught between grinding back and arching forward. It had been far too long. He didn’t know if Xander heard, didn’t care as long as he kept doing….
Xander chuckled, then bit, sinking his teeth into Spike’s neck, right over the vein.
Spike came, cries of pleasure unvoiced as the air caught in his dead lungs and refused to move.
“See you at home,” Xander whispered, then vanished into the dancing crowd while Spike was still trying to rediscover his legs.
Once he was secure on his pins, Spike circled the dance floor twice and considered his options. Xander now knew of his interest. And hadn’t killed him. But had vanished.
Fuck it, he needed new pants, and the blood was back at William’s house. Probably had better booze stashed there too. Spike’d sort out the rest when he was properly drunk. Or hung over. Without Xander, this place blew.
~o0o~
Xander slipped into the shadows under the stairs, the same place he’d rescued a man from a vampire just last year. This time he was rescuing himself.
Shit, what the hell had he been thinking?
He hadn’t been thinking. Gerald had put his tongue down Xander’s throat and though had stopped. Same as last year.
Well that was an event that wouldn’t be repeated. Gerald hadn’t missed the vampire that almost got him last year, and would be long gone.
Had he really just danced with Spike? Not just dance, damn near fucked. On the dance floor. And Spike had come.
Xander shuddered, remembering the feeling of moisture seeping through the vampire’s jeans. He rubbed the same hand over his own pants, which just made them feel tighter.
“Don’t think with your dick, Xander,” he snapped at himself. That had gotten him in trouble with Cordie, with Faith. Had gotten him into a relationship with Anya. Well, was that last one really so bad?
Maybe not, but Spike?
Okay, he was not going to think about this anymore. Not tonight. Slipping out of the shadows, he scanned the nearby scene. Crystal was dancing, but still wouldn’t talk to him after he ditched her last year to save tall, pale, and bald. Her brother, Christopher, however, was by the bar. And he still liked Xander.
Slinking closer, Christopher’s eyes met Xander’s, and the blond man smiled. Small and compact, he looked like a masculine version of his twin. Oh yeah, Xand man was getting some tonight.
Then he’d figure out what the hell was going on with Spike.