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href="non90.html">90Sajinn
No, they aren’t mine. I wish they were, but they aren’t. They belong to their creators. No money is being made. I just take them out, put them in pretty dresses, and make them fight each other. No harm, no foul. Feed the writer. Review.
Happy Birthday, Melz.
Xander let Spike lead him through the streets, all of his attention focused on the vampire. A small part of his mind registered the intoxicating aroma of food, liquor and sweat--but as they gave the blonde no pause, neither did they Xander. Cars rushed past, ferrying tourists and locals alike. When Spike turned into a particularly dank alleyway, Xander suppressed a shiver.
A bare moment later, the two men were brought up short by a tall, thickly muscled man. "Vete," He growled, jerking his head back towards the main street.
Spike silently shifted into gameface while Xander glanced nervously at the menacing guy. Vampire and bouncer glared at each other until finally some sort of agreement was made and the human stepped aside. Without preamble, Spike took hold of Xander's neck and dragged him through a now-exposed doorway.
Xander wanted to ask where they were and if it was safe, but he already knew the answers to both questions. They were wherever Spike had taken them, and it was safe enough for Spike to take him to. Something about the way Spike's hand lay solidly against his new collar told Xander that silence and obedience were called for, so he bit his lip and kept his eyes downcast. Already he could feel the thrum of arousal pulsing through his veins. The vampire's usual scent of leather and blood was magnified, wrapping around Xander's senses. Every brush of leather and denim against Xander's body sent his awareness to new levels.
Spike kept a firm grip on Xander's neck as they waded through the crowded club. People seemed to melt to either side of them, but it was nothing less than the vampire expected. After all, most people were smart enough to get out of the way of a vampire in gameface. He could smell Xander, the human's body like a tightly coiled spring.
Dirt. Xander was surprised to find that the floor of the club was packed earth, softly firm beneath his feet. They'd stopped at the bar, where Xander heard Spike mumble something about sangre. At the moment, he was distracted by dirt and the high concentration of skin he was seeing. People, vampires, and maybe a few other creatures filled the club in a fleshy, heated twist of languid torpor. Heavy, opaque smoke filled the air, making the human's nose twitch and tingle. He had a suspicion that if he didn't move, he'd soon be stoned off his ass.
"Here," Spike muttered, thrusting a bowl and a bottle into Xander's hands. The boy fumbled with them while Spike worked his way to the back of the club, through dingy arches and tattered curtains. A few minutes later, he found an empty alcove, carved waist-high into one wall.
Xander let Spike push him to the back of the alcove, surprised to find a few pillows against the wall. From their seats they could see a great deal of the club, including most of the...more interesting patrons. In truth, Xander felt a bit like a voyeur; shadows darkened his alcove as he watched others' flesh slide and stick in a haze of lust and debauchery.
Spike smiled at Xander's aroused preoccupation. He hadn't picked this place for nothing; it appealed to everything he was. Sex, indulgence, and the occasional bloody fight were the norm. The vampire let Xander entertain himself for a few minutes longer before retrieving the boy's dinner.
"Eat." Xander blinked, noticing for the first time the pale hand in front of him. It held a small bit of something, something that smelled absolutely divine. Whiskey eyes caught blue and Xander leaned forward slightly, taking the proffered morsel.
Spike leaned back against a cushion and continued to feed Xander, bite by bite. Every so often he took a sip of his blood, enjoying the faint hint of alcohol and drugs that tainted it. None of the impurities was enough to hurt him, but the buzz was pleasant enough. Considering the club's reputation, Xander would soon be feeling the same way.
Xander swallowed another bite of what he thought was beef and looked around for something to drink. His throat was dry from the smoky air and eating. He saw Spike reach for something and caught the blonde's one-sided smile. "Please?" Xander whispered, reaching for the bottle.
Spike took a deep drink from the container, relishing the cool feel of water in his mouth. He pulled Xander close, sealing their lips in a tight kiss. When Xander made to deepen it, he allowed the boy to do so.
Xander groaned as still-cool water rushed over his tongue. Faint hints of blood tinged the liquid, pricking at the back of his throat.
"More?" Spike hissed, drawing back slightly. Xander nodded and Spike found the water bottle again. This time, as they kissed Spike pushed Xander over, until the boy's back was flat against the stone floor of the alcove. The rest of the club was clearly visible from where Xander lay, though Spike consumed his attention at the moment.
"More?" The vampire asked, covering Xander's body with his own. "Hmm?"
Xander swallowed hard, his hips arching to press against Spike's. His mind was fuzzy, distracted by the soft glow of candlelight from across the room. He felt himself nodding, his hands moving up to encircle Spike's waist.
Spike growled softly, pushing Xander's arms over the boy's head. Quick fingers stripped both men bare, until cool skin met hot. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw candles being placed at the edge of the alcove. The blonde could only imagine the picture they presented, ivory and golden flesh in a sinuous ribbon of slow lust.
"They're watching us," Xander whispered, his head turned to look out on the others. Spike glanced over and saw that indeed a few patrons were looking their way.
"They watch everyone," Spike replied. "You're watching them."
Xander placed one bare foot on a cold, ivory calf, rubbing absently. "So this place is about...watching?"
Spike studied Xander's face briefly before bending down to trace the boy's neck with his tongue. "No," He murmured, letting demonic ridges brush against silken skin. "Feeling."
And Xander felt--gritty stone on his back, the chilled satin of Spike's skin, flickering warmth from the candles and the sparkling pressure of stranger's eyes on them. Familiar lips and beloved hands touched here and there. Fangs, tongue, the slick slide of oil. Yeah, Xander felt. Something was gelling in his mind. He had so many pieces...
Spike pulled one of Xander's legs up over his hips and let the tip of his cock push inside the boy's waiting body. He gasped against Xander's collar, ivory fangs pressing into skin. Xander arched into both caresses, taking Spike deeper and begging for more.
Xander wondered if they knew what it felt like. These strangers watched them, their eyes heavy and their thighs wet with knowing what he and Spike were doing. But did they know what it felt like, to have such love pushing inside every part of him? Could they possibly know the thrill of having those fangs pulling him into Spike's mouth, across that sinful tongue?
Spike poured himself into Xander, rocking gently. Xander's fingers dug into his spine, clenching in time with the human's erratic breaths.
Xander looked up at Spike, wanting to see if the vampire saw what he did. Instead, he found Spike's golden eyes fixed on his own face, unblinking gaze almost desperate. He wasn't looking at the others, no. Just Xander. And he wasn't just looking; that inhuman gaze was devouring him whole. Xander could already feel himself straining, wondering why Spike hadn't rent his flesh and taken from him.
Spike was caught by Xander's gaze. He felt one of Xander's hands skate upwards, tangling in his hair. Then he was pushed down and drinking, tasting the dark perfection of Xander as the human filled him.
Xander's halting cry made the candles flicker, sending dancing sparks of light over their straining forms. Spike tore himself from Xander's neck in time to join their lips and drown his own cry of completion.
Xander let his head loll to one side, unable to muster the energy to do anything else. Spike was draped bonelessly on top of him, a wonderfully familiar weight. "Eighty-five," Xander whispered, letting sleepy eyes fall closed.
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