FIC: Iowa (Lindsey/Xander, FRAO) *for maleslashminis*
ETA: I have just realized that this is the 100th BtVS/AtS fic I've written. *mind boggles* Wow. Heee!
Title: Iowa
Author: soft_princess
Website: Fly With Me
Date: March 2007
Word count: 4,121
Pairing: Lindsey/Xander
Rating: FRAO
Disclaimer: I don't own them, Joss does.
Spoilers: set post-Chosen, and some time before Lindsey appears in s5 of AtS.
Summary: The first time Xander had sex with a guy was on their way to Cleveland.
Notes: written for entrenous88 in the maleslashminis's Lindsey round. Request found after the fic.
Thank you mireille719 for the fabulous beta! There was a lot of red…
* * *
Iowa: State in the midwestern United States bordered by Minnesota to the north, Wisconsin and Illinois to the east, Missouri to the south, and Nebraska and South Dakota to the west.
Source: Dictionary.com
* * *
The first time Xander had sex with a guy was on the way to Cleveland.
Why Cleveland? Xander had no idea. It was something Giles had said, and everyone had been so tired and depressed that they hadn't even thought about it much. There was a hellmouth in Cleveland, and so north and east they went.
The bus wasn't the most comfortable place to live, but it was all they could afford to keep going, their collective credit cards all maxed out from sending home the slayers who still had families to go back to. Giles swore up and down that as soon as they were settled somewhere, he would be able to start the process of getting them some money. Apparently, he thought he could get access to the Council's finances with a little work.
Xander didn't think it would work, but he didn't want to have to talk about why, so he didn't voice his opinion out loud. He didn't say much out loud, come to think of it, but no one noticed--or cared. Xander wasn't sure which. (His pessimistic self was saying 'cared,' but the reasonable part of him knew that they were just too wrapped up in their own loss and pain to pay attention to anyone else.)
On their fourth night on the road, they found a motel in a small town, somewhere in the middle of nowhere; Xander didn't even know which state they were in and didn't care enough to ask. They got just one room, with two double beds. The injured got the beds; the rest of them slept on the bus.
Buffy and Dawn kept touching each other, hugging, holding hands; Willow and Kennedy, just like Faith and Robin, were attached at the hip; Andrew kept talking; the other slayers were huddled together.
Xander kept pressing his fingers against the patch just to feel the pain. It was the only thing that reminded him that he'd survived, that he was actually still breathing.
What Xander needed, he realized, was to get away for one night. Even just an evening would do. He needed some time to think or, more to the point, to not think.
So he left. For one evening, he told himself, just one; he'd be back during the night or the next morning. He needed to get some air, find something to take his mind off things.
He didn't tell anyone when he left. They were in the hotel room, watching crappy TV and eating pizza, and Xander just slipped out. He'd seen some kind of bar on the way to the hotel, within what he thought looked like walking distance. A beer would be nice. Anyway, it was a place to start.
Walking distance turned out to be a fifteen minute walk, but Xander didn't even notice until he was there and checked the clock over the barman's head. It wasn't raining, he had a stake, and the fresh air was good for him. That's what they said, anyway.
The bar wasn't exactly crowded when Xander walked in, but it wasn't quiet either. There was some guy in the corner with a mic and a guitar, but Xander didn't pay any attention to him. He ordered a beer and sat down at an empty table.
The music stopped at some point, but Xander couldn't remember when. He just knew that one moment the guy was being all heart and soul with the mic, and the next there was some kind of embarrassing jukebox song playing. Not as embarrassing as the Waffle House jukebox songs the girls insisted on playing when they stopped there in Denver--Xander didn't think there was anything worse than that anywhere in the world--but still embarrassing enough.
The chair next to him was pulled back, and Xander looked up. The guy nodded. "Mind?"
Xander shrugged, "Whatever," and went back to nursing his beer.
The guy sat down and put a guitar case against the wall. Was that the singer? Curious, Xander looked at him again. Cowboy hat with long, shoulder length hair underneath, a flannel shirt with the first three buttons undone, and Xander was pretty sure he was wearing worn out jeans and a pair of cowboy boots. He didn't look any different from any of the other guys in the bar. Except for the part where he was sitting at Xander's table.
Xander could see the beginning of some kind of tattoo on the guy's upper torso. He had some really impressive muscles under there too, from what little Xander could tell. When he looked up to the guy's face, there was a smile there, as if he knew exactly what Xander was thinking about.
He seriously shouldn't be checking out some random guy's muscles in what was probably the straightest bar in straightland. Xander might have decided to give guys a chance, but here was not where he should start working on that. He gulped and cast his eyes down on the table, sipping his beer.
"Lindsey."
"Huh?"
"My name," the guy said, smiling indulgently. "It's Lindsey."
"Oh. Xander." The response was automatic, slipping out of Xander's mouth before he could realize that he really didn't want to be socializing with some random backwater town country bar singer. The guy probably didn't even know which way California was. Not that Xander cared, but…
"I can tell you aren't from around here."
"Why?" Because I'm clearly trying to socialize here, so lets keep this conversation going, he thought to himself.
"Haven't seen you around before." He didn't look much like a local either, which was weird, because at first glance, Xander wouldn't have been able to tell. Now that he was looking, though, Lindsey did look slightly out of place, although Xander couldn't pinpoint why or how.
Frowning slightly, Xander answered: "I could have just moved into town."
"Proving my point." Lindsey sipped his beer, and stayed quiet, conversation forgotten. Or so Xander hoped.
Xander went back to his beer, picking at the label.
"You look like shit."
"Why, thank you for reminding me," Xander said . "I mean, I almost forgot for a moment that I felt like shit. Too bad for me, huh?"
"Sorry."
"Yeah, you don't look it." Xander shook his head at him, and gulped down the remaining beer from his bottle. "Anyway, the end of the world kinda does that to a guy, making him look like shit. Oh, and the part where I lost an eye. That probably doesn't help."
Lindsay held up his right hand, staring at it like it was going to disappear any second. Xander took the opportunity to get up and go get another beer. Worst of luck, Lindsey was still there when he came back. From lack of other choice--the bar had filled up while he'd been drinking his beer and there weren't any other table available--Xander sat back in his chair and sighed.
"What was your end of the world like?" Lindsey asked, looking up at Xander.
Xander had a fleeting thought, wondering about what the hell Lindsey could know about the end of the world, and about the fact that the look in Lindsey's eyes made him look like maybe he could actually understand in some deep and probably meaningful way that Xander wouldn't care about--but the thought passed. "Heard of Sunnydale?" Even if he didn't look all that bright--hot, oh hell yeah, and it was starting to seriously look like the guy was flirting with him, and Xander would totally go home with him, but there was something about the way Lindsey was holding himself that screamed 'not bright', although he might be trying to make people believe that to fit in… And why the hell was Xander analyzing his possible bed buddy anyway? There was no way he actually cared. Point was, Lindsey had to have heard of it; it was all over the news, the whole thing blamed on some kind of bizarre natural disaster or another. Xander didn't care about that either.
"Ah." Lindsey nodded thoughtfully. "Seen it on the news. That's harsh. You come all the way from out there?"
"Yeah, been four days, and it still doesn't feel real." Huh, would you look at that? Xander was actually talking. This bar thing really was a bad idea. He should head over back to the hotel before he started actually enjoying himself. He wasn't supposed to be talking about this, he was supposed to get laid and forget he was minus an eye, and a hometown (and a former fiancée, and several girls too young to be dead). "I keep thinking I'm going to wake up in my bed in the morning, and everything's going to be exactly the way I left it before--" He shrugged. "And then I wake up."
Lindsey stayed silent after that. Xander could feel his eyes on him, but he didn't say another word while Xander sipped his second beer, and then his third.
He was thinking about finishing this one off and going for a fourth one when Lindsey put his cowboy hat on and pushed his chair back. "Come on."
Xander just raised his eyebrows at him. Did he really think he was going to let himself be ordered around by some stranger he met in a bar? He might have 'opened up' for five and a half seconds, but no way he was just following him out there. Unless the look in Lindsey's eyes meant he was going to get laid. He wasn't against that at all.
"If you want to think about something else than the fact that you're completely miserable, you're going to need something better than the booze they serve in this hole. Come on."
Okay, definitely part of a getting laid plan, if Xander knew how to read between the lines. And apparently, he didn't mind the whole being ordered around thing, because he was standing up and throwing some change on the table and not caring when he bumped on the table and the rest of his beer spilled over. He looked at it for a moment, then shrugged, and followed Lindsey out. "What do you suggest?" he asked, once they were out. He was going to ask 'your place or mine' but then realized the bus was very much a no go. It had gotten colder, and Xander tightened his jacket around himself, slipping his hands into his pockets.
"That depends on what you're up for," Lindsey replied, giving Xander a speculating look. He wasn't wearing a jacket, Xander noticed, but he had his guitar case slung over his shoulder, and his biceps were really well outlined by his still unbuttoned shirt.
"You shouldn't be giving me enough time to think about it," Xander said with a slight self-deprecating smirk. He didn't know why, but there was something about the way Lindsey was looking at him that made him hard as hell. Which, hopefully, was the whole plan.
"Come on," Lindsey said again, grabbing Xander's elbow and tugging him towards the nearest alley. Lindsey didn't waste time with small talk, pushed Xander up against the nearest wall, and next thing Xander knew, he was being kissed, hard and fast, and--
Damn, that was Lindsey's tongue in his mouth, and Xander couldn't remember the last time he'd felt his heart beat quite that hard in his chest. He kissed back, tongue slipping against Lindsey's and tasting him. He moaned.
"I'm not going to be gentle. If that's not what you want, I suggest you say so right now and save us both the misery," Lindsey said.
"Do your worst. Gentle would kill me right now."
"Figured." Lindsey kissed Xander again, hard, messy, possessive.
Xander leaned back into the wall and whimpered.
"If there's something you want," Lindsey said, pulling back, his voice hoarse and low, sending shivers down Xander's spine. "I suggest you beg for it, son."
Xander shouldn't be surprised. He was expecting this, wanted it, in fact, a lot more than he had wanted anything in the past four days. It wasn't the kissing, or even the leg between his thighs, pressing on his crotch, that surprised him. No, it was the tone of voice Lindsey used, the way Xander's body responded to every word in that sentence, especially that last one. "Fuck, yeah, okay, I can do that," he replied, trying to remember that he needed to breathe. Thinking, on the other hand, that he couldn't do.
"Good boy," Lindsey whispered right into Xander's ear. "Ever been on your knees?"
Xander shook his head. "No, can I?" He licked his lips, and kissed Lindsey's jaw, rubbing his cheek against the stubble there. It felt rough, different. Xander wasn't sure yet if that was a good thing, but he felt something, and that was good enough for him. "Please."
Lindsey turned them around until he was the one against the building, and put both hands on Xander's shoulders. "God, yeah, I can get behind that idea." He pushed down, softly enough that Xander could have stayed standing if he hadn't desperately wanted to go down, but still pushed.
Xander didn't even need to think about it, he slid down onto the pavement and moved both hands up against Lindsey's thighs. He reached for Lindsey's belt, struggling a bit to get it undone. Damn those fancy-looking buckles. He unzipped Lindsey's jeans, reaching in.
Lindsey was hard.
Yeah, that shouldn't have surprised Xander at all, but right there and then, when his hand closed around Lindsey's cock, Xander suddenly realized that this random stranger wanted him. He pulled it out of Lindsey's pants and stroked it, up and down, slowly, while he looked at it, tried to get used to how it felt to have another guy's penis in his hand. He'd thought about it, a lot even; it seemed that guys were part of his nightly fantasies (at least, before Sunnydale went down in a crater, because he hadn't fantasized about anything since) a lot more than girls these days.
Lindsey put a hand behind Xander's head, not really pulling, but definitely trying to guide Xander's mouth closer to his cock. "Come on, son, suck my dick."
That shouldn't have been that hot. Except it was, and Xander shuddered, following Lindsey's lead and leaning closer. He darted out his tongue, licking the tip. It didn't taste too bad, actually, nowhere near as bad as Xander had been expecting it to. With a deep breath, he plunged in, wrapping his mouth around the head, hand still tight around the base.
"Fuck yeah," Lindsey groaned, his hand tightening on the back of Xander's neck.
Xander shifted his hips, trying to release the pressure on his cock and took more of Lindsey into his mouth, bobbing his head up and down, Lindsey setting the rhythm with his hand.
"Yeah, that's it. Keep going."
Xander kept sucking and stroking, moving his free hand to cup Lindsey's balls. The answering moan was almost enough to make Xander come in his pants, but he held it off, focusing on the cock in his mouth and not the one between his legs. He'd take care of that later. What mattered now was making Lindsey come, hearing those sounds he made. Xander thought he had done quite good at the fantasizing, because he was obviously pretty okay at this sucking dick thing, if the way Lindsey was bucking his hips and urging Xander faster was anything to go by.
Lindsey gave a hard thrust, and, totally unprepared, Xander choked. Eye watering, he pulled back, his breathing harsh and insistent, and licked the head and the underside, hand still stroking. When his breathing stopped threatening to erupt into a coughing fit, he leaned down again, mouth closing around the hard shaft. He moved his hand and mouth faster, tongue working frantically on the head, finger pressing behind Lindsey's balls on that little patch of skin Xander always liked.
Lindsey groaned, tugging hard on Xander's hair. "Yeah, gonna come now."
Xander took about two seconds to think about the 'for and against' of letting Lindsey come in or on him, and then decided pulling back was a better idea. He worked his hand faster, tightening his fist and trailing kisses over to Lindsey's hip. He bit down, and Lindsey came, his body tensing as he did.
Xander barely had time to recover and wipe his hand on his pants before he was being pulled up and pushed against the wall. Lindsey's thigh pressed between his legs again, the man's hand slipping down over Xander's t-shirt covered chest and deftly working the button and zipper open. Lindsey was leaning on his side against the wall, next to Xander. His other hand came to rest behind Xander's head. "Don't want you to hit your head, now, do we?" he asked, when Xander give him a look of surprise.
Shaking his head, Xander gave up trying to think or make sense of what was happening, because Lindsey's hand was inside his jeans and his boxer shorts, and there was grabbing of the equipment going on. "God, please," he managed to say, bucking his hips forward. "Please."
"You beg so pretty," Lindsey murmured, lips against Xander's earlobe. "Keep doing that and I might just give you what you want."
"Please, fuck, please." And suddenly there was cold air on Xander's cock, and Lindsey was stroking it slowly, drawing a long, deep moan out of Xander. "God, yes."
"Like that?"
"Yeah, fuck yeah." It wouldn't take long; Xander could feel it. He just needed the right push, the right--something.
Lindsey buried his head in the crook of Xander's shoulder, trailing kisses over the skin and then biting down. "Come on, son, come for me," he murmured, mouth moving across Xander's jaw until he reached his lips and kissed him hard.
Xander whimpered and moaned, eyes fluttering shut, his whole body drawing up tight. Just a few more strokes and he was coming, all over his t-shirt and Lindsey's hand. Lindsey kept moving his hand until Xander couldn't take anymore and pushed him away.
Lindsey tucked Xander back in, zipping and buttoning up Xander's pants while he leaned against the wall, completely, well, fucked. Then he did the same to himself.
"I--" Xander bit his lip, cheeks flushed, heart still beating fast and hard in his chest. "I guess I should go, then."
"No," Lindsey said, forcefully, the tone making Xander turn his head around and look at him, really look at him, and damn if Xander didn't find something there that he liked. "We're nowhere near done, here." Lindsey kissed him again, his hand coming up to cup Xander's cheek. "My place or yours?"
Xander chuckled, relieved, and leaned into the touch. "Unless you wanna have sex on a school bus in front of all my friends, I think yours is a much better idea."
"Mine it is."
He just kissed Xander one more time and then strolled out of the alley. The only sign that Lindsey was waiting for him was the look he threw over his shoulders before he disappeared around the corner. Still panting, Xander took off after Lindsey. No way he was going to let that guy out of his sight for long tonight. The morning was another story entirely, but for now, Xander would follow Lindsey anywhere.
* * *
Xander was hoping for straightforward, fucked through the mattress, kind of sex, but Lindsey apparently had other plans.
His apartment didn't look like much from the outside, but the inside was a completely different story. A bit like Lindsey himself, Xander was starting to realize. You wouldn't look twice at him if he crossed him in the street, but when you started to get to know him--or had sex with him--there was that glimmer of something more.
"Bathroom's this way," Lindsey had said when they were inside.
Xander had taken that as an invitation to grab a shower. Four days of road dust, on top of a day of fighting, on top of crappy hotel room showers, made this one absolutely unforgettable. The water was just hot enough, and the water pressure perfect, and the towels lush and comfortable as hell. Xander looked at the heap pile of his dirty clothes on the floor and shook his head. No way he was getting back into those right now. He put them in a more tidy pile and left them there in a corner of the bathroom.
He found Lindsey in the bedroom. "Hey, thanks," Xander said, walking in.
Lindsey was sitting on the bed, naked, and Xander could make out the tattoos now. They were some kind of tribal symbols or something. Not that Xander knew much about tattoos, but they looked good on Lindsey, and yeah, the guy did have some really nice muscles.
"You're welcome. I thought you might enjoy that." He was smiling up at Xander, and then stood, striding to Xander's side and tugging at the towel wrapped around Xander's hips until he let it fall to the floor. The look of appreciation on Lindsey's face as he checked out Xander made him blush again. "Come on, lie down on the bed."
Xander didn't ask. He frowned, and climbed up on the bed, lying down on his stomach. He pillowed his head against his arms, and waited. He couldn't even see what Lindsey was doing, because he was on Xander's blind side, but Xander didn't have time to speculate much. Something cold was poured onto his back, and Lindsey straddled his thighs.
"Ever felt like you don't exist?" Lindsey asked, fingers digging into Xander's back.
It didn't sound like he was expecting Xander to answer at this point, and that was a very good thing. Xander was kind of stuck on the part where Lindsey was giving him a massage, and couldn't really think beyond the 'huh?' stage.
"Everyone around you has a life, a purpose, and you're just standing there, and watching them, unable to touch or care or want--whether because you made it that way, or because it's a physical, emotional impossibility, it doesn't really matter. The real problem lies in the fact that nobody notices you."
"And that makes you invisible," Xander muttered, at least slightly happy that he could still follow Lindsey's train of thoughts, even if he had no idea what had prompted it. He bit his lip to keep from moaning when Lindsey hit a particularly sore spot.
"Yeah," Lindsey agreed. "I want to be invisible."
"I noticed."
Lindsey paused for a second, then resumed, the palm of his hands digging into Xander's skin as they moved up on each side of his spine.
"I don't try to be invisible," Xander said, his voice muffled somewhat by the pillow. "I just am."
Except, right now? He didn't feel invisible at all.
He'd almost definitely regret this in the morning, but Xander felt something right now that was pretty damn close to contentment. The way his body responded to both the pressure of Lindsey's hands, soothing away the tension with every stroke, and the feeling of Lindsey's cock against his ass was getting pretty damn close to making Xander feel alive.
He was okay with that.
* * *
Male character they want paired with Lindsey: Xander
Things they want in the fic: a spilled drink; a massage; a first time
Things they *don't* want in the fic: any extended description or lyrics of Lindsey singing; scenes at W&H
Preferred maximum rating: any
entrenous88 also left an additional note: "if the writer feels she or he wants Lindsey to call Xander "son" at some point, that would be a-ok with me!"
Title: Iowa
Author: soft_princess
Website: Fly With Me
Date: March 2007
Word count: 4,121
Pairing: Lindsey/Xander
Rating: FRAO
Disclaimer: I don't own them, Joss does.
Spoilers: set post-Chosen, and some time before Lindsey appears in s5 of AtS.
Summary: The first time Xander had sex with a guy was on their way to Cleveland.
Notes: written for entrenous88 in the maleslashminis's Lindsey round. Request found after the fic.
Thank you mireille719 for the fabulous beta! There was a lot of red…
* * *
Iowa: State in the midwestern United States bordered by Minnesota to the north, Wisconsin and Illinois to the east, Missouri to the south, and Nebraska and South Dakota to the west.
Source: Dictionary.com
* * *
The first time Xander had sex with a guy was on the way to Cleveland.
Why Cleveland? Xander had no idea. It was something Giles had said, and everyone had been so tired and depressed that they hadn't even thought about it much. There was a hellmouth in Cleveland, and so north and east they went.
The bus wasn't the most comfortable place to live, but it was all they could afford to keep going, their collective credit cards all maxed out from sending home the slayers who still had families to go back to. Giles swore up and down that as soon as they were settled somewhere, he would be able to start the process of getting them some money. Apparently, he thought he could get access to the Council's finances with a little work.
Xander didn't think it would work, but he didn't want to have to talk about why, so he didn't voice his opinion out loud. He didn't say much out loud, come to think of it, but no one noticed--or cared. Xander wasn't sure which. (His pessimistic self was saying 'cared,' but the reasonable part of him knew that they were just too wrapped up in their own loss and pain to pay attention to anyone else.)
On their fourth night on the road, they found a motel in a small town, somewhere in the middle of nowhere; Xander didn't even know which state they were in and didn't care enough to ask. They got just one room, with two double beds. The injured got the beds; the rest of them slept on the bus.
Buffy and Dawn kept touching each other, hugging, holding hands; Willow and Kennedy, just like Faith and Robin, were attached at the hip; Andrew kept talking; the other slayers were huddled together.
Xander kept pressing his fingers against the patch just to feel the pain. It was the only thing that reminded him that he'd survived, that he was actually still breathing.
What Xander needed, he realized, was to get away for one night. Even just an evening would do. He needed some time to think or, more to the point, to not think.
So he left. For one evening, he told himself, just one; he'd be back during the night or the next morning. He needed to get some air, find something to take his mind off things.
He didn't tell anyone when he left. They were in the hotel room, watching crappy TV and eating pizza, and Xander just slipped out. He'd seen some kind of bar on the way to the hotel, within what he thought looked like walking distance. A beer would be nice. Anyway, it was a place to start.
Walking distance turned out to be a fifteen minute walk, but Xander didn't even notice until he was there and checked the clock over the barman's head. It wasn't raining, he had a stake, and the fresh air was good for him. That's what they said, anyway.
The bar wasn't exactly crowded when Xander walked in, but it wasn't quiet either. There was some guy in the corner with a mic and a guitar, but Xander didn't pay any attention to him. He ordered a beer and sat down at an empty table.
The music stopped at some point, but Xander couldn't remember when. He just knew that one moment the guy was being all heart and soul with the mic, and the next there was some kind of embarrassing jukebox song playing. Not as embarrassing as the Waffle House jukebox songs the girls insisted on playing when they stopped there in Denver--Xander didn't think there was anything worse than that anywhere in the world--but still embarrassing enough.
The chair next to him was pulled back, and Xander looked up. The guy nodded. "Mind?"
Xander shrugged, "Whatever," and went back to nursing his beer.
The guy sat down and put a guitar case against the wall. Was that the singer? Curious, Xander looked at him again. Cowboy hat with long, shoulder length hair underneath, a flannel shirt with the first three buttons undone, and Xander was pretty sure he was wearing worn out jeans and a pair of cowboy boots. He didn't look any different from any of the other guys in the bar. Except for the part where he was sitting at Xander's table.
Xander could see the beginning of some kind of tattoo on the guy's upper torso. He had some really impressive muscles under there too, from what little Xander could tell. When he looked up to the guy's face, there was a smile there, as if he knew exactly what Xander was thinking about.
He seriously shouldn't be checking out some random guy's muscles in what was probably the straightest bar in straightland. Xander might have decided to give guys a chance, but here was not where he should start working on that. He gulped and cast his eyes down on the table, sipping his beer.
"Lindsey."
"Huh?"
"My name," the guy said, smiling indulgently. "It's Lindsey."
"Oh. Xander." The response was automatic, slipping out of Xander's mouth before he could realize that he really didn't want to be socializing with some random backwater town country bar singer. The guy probably didn't even know which way California was. Not that Xander cared, but…
"I can tell you aren't from around here."
"Why?" Because I'm clearly trying to socialize here, so lets keep this conversation going, he thought to himself.
"Haven't seen you around before." He didn't look much like a local either, which was weird, because at first glance, Xander wouldn't have been able to tell. Now that he was looking, though, Lindsey did look slightly out of place, although Xander couldn't pinpoint why or how.
Frowning slightly, Xander answered: "I could have just moved into town."
"Proving my point." Lindsey sipped his beer, and stayed quiet, conversation forgotten. Or so Xander hoped.
Xander went back to his beer, picking at the label.
"You look like shit."
"Why, thank you for reminding me," Xander said . "I mean, I almost forgot for a moment that I felt like shit. Too bad for me, huh?"
"Sorry."
"Yeah, you don't look it." Xander shook his head at him, and gulped down the remaining beer from his bottle. "Anyway, the end of the world kinda does that to a guy, making him look like shit. Oh, and the part where I lost an eye. That probably doesn't help."
Lindsay held up his right hand, staring at it like it was going to disappear any second. Xander took the opportunity to get up and go get another beer. Worst of luck, Lindsey was still there when he came back. From lack of other choice--the bar had filled up while he'd been drinking his beer and there weren't any other table available--Xander sat back in his chair and sighed.
"What was your end of the world like?" Lindsey asked, looking up at Xander.
Xander had a fleeting thought, wondering about what the hell Lindsey could know about the end of the world, and about the fact that the look in Lindsey's eyes made him look like maybe he could actually understand in some deep and probably meaningful way that Xander wouldn't care about--but the thought passed. "Heard of Sunnydale?" Even if he didn't look all that bright--hot, oh hell yeah, and it was starting to seriously look like the guy was flirting with him, and Xander would totally go home with him, but there was something about the way Lindsey was holding himself that screamed 'not bright', although he might be trying to make people believe that to fit in… And why the hell was Xander analyzing his possible bed buddy anyway? There was no way he actually cared. Point was, Lindsey had to have heard of it; it was all over the news, the whole thing blamed on some kind of bizarre natural disaster or another. Xander didn't care about that either.
"Ah." Lindsey nodded thoughtfully. "Seen it on the news. That's harsh. You come all the way from out there?"
"Yeah, been four days, and it still doesn't feel real." Huh, would you look at that? Xander was actually talking. This bar thing really was a bad idea. He should head over back to the hotel before he started actually enjoying himself. He wasn't supposed to be talking about this, he was supposed to get laid and forget he was minus an eye, and a hometown (and a former fiancée, and several girls too young to be dead). "I keep thinking I'm going to wake up in my bed in the morning, and everything's going to be exactly the way I left it before--" He shrugged. "And then I wake up."
Lindsey stayed silent after that. Xander could feel his eyes on him, but he didn't say another word while Xander sipped his second beer, and then his third.
He was thinking about finishing this one off and going for a fourth one when Lindsey put his cowboy hat on and pushed his chair back. "Come on."
Xander just raised his eyebrows at him. Did he really think he was going to let himself be ordered around by some stranger he met in a bar? He might have 'opened up' for five and a half seconds, but no way he was just following him out there. Unless the look in Lindsey's eyes meant he was going to get laid. He wasn't against that at all.
"If you want to think about something else than the fact that you're completely miserable, you're going to need something better than the booze they serve in this hole. Come on."
Okay, definitely part of a getting laid plan, if Xander knew how to read between the lines. And apparently, he didn't mind the whole being ordered around thing, because he was standing up and throwing some change on the table and not caring when he bumped on the table and the rest of his beer spilled over. He looked at it for a moment, then shrugged, and followed Lindsey out. "What do you suggest?" he asked, once they were out. He was going to ask 'your place or mine' but then realized the bus was very much a no go. It had gotten colder, and Xander tightened his jacket around himself, slipping his hands into his pockets.
"That depends on what you're up for," Lindsey replied, giving Xander a speculating look. He wasn't wearing a jacket, Xander noticed, but he had his guitar case slung over his shoulder, and his biceps were really well outlined by his still unbuttoned shirt.
"You shouldn't be giving me enough time to think about it," Xander said with a slight self-deprecating smirk. He didn't know why, but there was something about the way Lindsey was looking at him that made him hard as hell. Which, hopefully, was the whole plan.
"Come on," Lindsey said again, grabbing Xander's elbow and tugging him towards the nearest alley. Lindsey didn't waste time with small talk, pushed Xander up against the nearest wall, and next thing Xander knew, he was being kissed, hard and fast, and--
Damn, that was Lindsey's tongue in his mouth, and Xander couldn't remember the last time he'd felt his heart beat quite that hard in his chest. He kissed back, tongue slipping against Lindsey's and tasting him. He moaned.
"I'm not going to be gentle. If that's not what you want, I suggest you say so right now and save us both the misery," Lindsey said.
"Do your worst. Gentle would kill me right now."
"Figured." Lindsey kissed Xander again, hard, messy, possessive.
Xander leaned back into the wall and whimpered.
"If there's something you want," Lindsey said, pulling back, his voice hoarse and low, sending shivers down Xander's spine. "I suggest you beg for it, son."
Xander shouldn't be surprised. He was expecting this, wanted it, in fact, a lot more than he had wanted anything in the past four days. It wasn't the kissing, or even the leg between his thighs, pressing on his crotch, that surprised him. No, it was the tone of voice Lindsey used, the way Xander's body responded to every word in that sentence, especially that last one. "Fuck, yeah, okay, I can do that," he replied, trying to remember that he needed to breathe. Thinking, on the other hand, that he couldn't do.
"Good boy," Lindsey whispered right into Xander's ear. "Ever been on your knees?"
Xander shook his head. "No, can I?" He licked his lips, and kissed Lindsey's jaw, rubbing his cheek against the stubble there. It felt rough, different. Xander wasn't sure yet if that was a good thing, but he felt something, and that was good enough for him. "Please."
Lindsey turned them around until he was the one against the building, and put both hands on Xander's shoulders. "God, yeah, I can get behind that idea." He pushed down, softly enough that Xander could have stayed standing if he hadn't desperately wanted to go down, but still pushed.
Xander didn't even need to think about it, he slid down onto the pavement and moved both hands up against Lindsey's thighs. He reached for Lindsey's belt, struggling a bit to get it undone. Damn those fancy-looking buckles. He unzipped Lindsey's jeans, reaching in.
Lindsey was hard.
Yeah, that shouldn't have surprised Xander at all, but right there and then, when his hand closed around Lindsey's cock, Xander suddenly realized that this random stranger wanted him. He pulled it out of Lindsey's pants and stroked it, up and down, slowly, while he looked at it, tried to get used to how it felt to have another guy's penis in his hand. He'd thought about it, a lot even; it seemed that guys were part of his nightly fantasies (at least, before Sunnydale went down in a crater, because he hadn't fantasized about anything since) a lot more than girls these days.
Lindsey put a hand behind Xander's head, not really pulling, but definitely trying to guide Xander's mouth closer to his cock. "Come on, son, suck my dick."
That shouldn't have been that hot. Except it was, and Xander shuddered, following Lindsey's lead and leaning closer. He darted out his tongue, licking the tip. It didn't taste too bad, actually, nowhere near as bad as Xander had been expecting it to. With a deep breath, he plunged in, wrapping his mouth around the head, hand still tight around the base.
"Fuck yeah," Lindsey groaned, his hand tightening on the back of Xander's neck.
Xander shifted his hips, trying to release the pressure on his cock and took more of Lindsey into his mouth, bobbing his head up and down, Lindsey setting the rhythm with his hand.
"Yeah, that's it. Keep going."
Xander kept sucking and stroking, moving his free hand to cup Lindsey's balls. The answering moan was almost enough to make Xander come in his pants, but he held it off, focusing on the cock in his mouth and not the one between his legs. He'd take care of that later. What mattered now was making Lindsey come, hearing those sounds he made. Xander thought he had done quite good at the fantasizing, because he was obviously pretty okay at this sucking dick thing, if the way Lindsey was bucking his hips and urging Xander faster was anything to go by.
Lindsey gave a hard thrust, and, totally unprepared, Xander choked. Eye watering, he pulled back, his breathing harsh and insistent, and licked the head and the underside, hand still stroking. When his breathing stopped threatening to erupt into a coughing fit, he leaned down again, mouth closing around the hard shaft. He moved his hand and mouth faster, tongue working frantically on the head, finger pressing behind Lindsey's balls on that little patch of skin Xander always liked.
Lindsey groaned, tugging hard on Xander's hair. "Yeah, gonna come now."
Xander took about two seconds to think about the 'for and against' of letting Lindsey come in or on him, and then decided pulling back was a better idea. He worked his hand faster, tightening his fist and trailing kisses over to Lindsey's hip. He bit down, and Lindsey came, his body tensing as he did.
Xander barely had time to recover and wipe his hand on his pants before he was being pulled up and pushed against the wall. Lindsey's thigh pressed between his legs again, the man's hand slipping down over Xander's t-shirt covered chest and deftly working the button and zipper open. Lindsey was leaning on his side against the wall, next to Xander. His other hand came to rest behind Xander's head. "Don't want you to hit your head, now, do we?" he asked, when Xander give him a look of surprise.
Shaking his head, Xander gave up trying to think or make sense of what was happening, because Lindsey's hand was inside his jeans and his boxer shorts, and there was grabbing of the equipment going on. "God, please," he managed to say, bucking his hips forward. "Please."
"You beg so pretty," Lindsey murmured, lips against Xander's earlobe. "Keep doing that and I might just give you what you want."
"Please, fuck, please." And suddenly there was cold air on Xander's cock, and Lindsey was stroking it slowly, drawing a long, deep moan out of Xander. "God, yes."
"Like that?"
"Yeah, fuck yeah." It wouldn't take long; Xander could feel it. He just needed the right push, the right--something.
Lindsey buried his head in the crook of Xander's shoulder, trailing kisses over the skin and then biting down. "Come on, son, come for me," he murmured, mouth moving across Xander's jaw until he reached his lips and kissed him hard.
Xander whimpered and moaned, eyes fluttering shut, his whole body drawing up tight. Just a few more strokes and he was coming, all over his t-shirt and Lindsey's hand. Lindsey kept moving his hand until Xander couldn't take anymore and pushed him away.
Lindsey tucked Xander back in, zipping and buttoning up Xander's pants while he leaned against the wall, completely, well, fucked. Then he did the same to himself.
"I--" Xander bit his lip, cheeks flushed, heart still beating fast and hard in his chest. "I guess I should go, then."
"No," Lindsey said, forcefully, the tone making Xander turn his head around and look at him, really look at him, and damn if Xander didn't find something there that he liked. "We're nowhere near done, here." Lindsey kissed him again, his hand coming up to cup Xander's cheek. "My place or yours?"
Xander chuckled, relieved, and leaned into the touch. "Unless you wanna have sex on a school bus in front of all my friends, I think yours is a much better idea."
"Mine it is."
He just kissed Xander one more time and then strolled out of the alley. The only sign that Lindsey was waiting for him was the look he threw over his shoulders before he disappeared around the corner. Still panting, Xander took off after Lindsey. No way he was going to let that guy out of his sight for long tonight. The morning was another story entirely, but for now, Xander would follow Lindsey anywhere.
* * *
Xander was hoping for straightforward, fucked through the mattress, kind of sex, but Lindsey apparently had other plans.
His apartment didn't look like much from the outside, but the inside was a completely different story. A bit like Lindsey himself, Xander was starting to realize. You wouldn't look twice at him if he crossed him in the street, but when you started to get to know him--or had sex with him--there was that glimmer of something more.
"Bathroom's this way," Lindsey had said when they were inside.
Xander had taken that as an invitation to grab a shower. Four days of road dust, on top of a day of fighting, on top of crappy hotel room showers, made this one absolutely unforgettable. The water was just hot enough, and the water pressure perfect, and the towels lush and comfortable as hell. Xander looked at the heap pile of his dirty clothes on the floor and shook his head. No way he was getting back into those right now. He put them in a more tidy pile and left them there in a corner of the bathroom.
He found Lindsey in the bedroom. "Hey, thanks," Xander said, walking in.
Lindsey was sitting on the bed, naked, and Xander could make out the tattoos now. They were some kind of tribal symbols or something. Not that Xander knew much about tattoos, but they looked good on Lindsey, and yeah, the guy did have some really nice muscles.
"You're welcome. I thought you might enjoy that." He was smiling up at Xander, and then stood, striding to Xander's side and tugging at the towel wrapped around Xander's hips until he let it fall to the floor. The look of appreciation on Lindsey's face as he checked out Xander made him blush again. "Come on, lie down on the bed."
Xander didn't ask. He frowned, and climbed up on the bed, lying down on his stomach. He pillowed his head against his arms, and waited. He couldn't even see what Lindsey was doing, because he was on Xander's blind side, but Xander didn't have time to speculate much. Something cold was poured onto his back, and Lindsey straddled his thighs.
"Ever felt like you don't exist?" Lindsey asked, fingers digging into Xander's back.
It didn't sound like he was expecting Xander to answer at this point, and that was a very good thing. Xander was kind of stuck on the part where Lindsey was giving him a massage, and couldn't really think beyond the 'huh?' stage.
"Everyone around you has a life, a purpose, and you're just standing there, and watching them, unable to touch or care or want--whether because you made it that way, or because it's a physical, emotional impossibility, it doesn't really matter. The real problem lies in the fact that nobody notices you."
"And that makes you invisible," Xander muttered, at least slightly happy that he could still follow Lindsey's train of thoughts, even if he had no idea what had prompted it. He bit his lip to keep from moaning when Lindsey hit a particularly sore spot.
"Yeah," Lindsey agreed. "I want to be invisible."
"I noticed."
Lindsey paused for a second, then resumed, the palm of his hands digging into Xander's skin as they moved up on each side of his spine.
"I don't try to be invisible," Xander said, his voice muffled somewhat by the pillow. "I just am."
Except, right now? He didn't feel invisible at all.
He'd almost definitely regret this in the morning, but Xander felt something right now that was pretty damn close to contentment. The way his body responded to both the pressure of Lindsey's hands, soothing away the tension with every stroke, and the feeling of Lindsey's cock against his ass was getting pretty damn close to making Xander feel alive.
He was okay with that.
* * *
Male character they want paired with Lindsey: Xander
Things they want in the fic: a spilled drink; a massage; a first time
Things they *don't* want in the fic: any extended description or lyrics of Lindsey singing; scenes at W&H
Preferred maximum rating: any
entrenous88 also left an additional note: "if the writer feels she or he wants Lindsey to call Xander "son" at some point, that would be a-ok with me!"