Paring: S/X with a side of W/G
Summary: Xander is drifting, looking for a purpose in life.
One that finally comes clear when he spots a certain
hairdresser by the name of Mr. William. Xander
immediately begins planning and plotting to win over
this scrumptious man. Of course nothing worth having
ever comes easily.
Genre: Comedy, romance. HAU
Warnings: The usual bad language as well as graphic m/m sexual
activities. Also warned of hints of poultry perversions.
Disclaimer: I Own or have claim on none of the characters or products
used and named in this story and no profit is made.
Feedback: Much appreciated. It encourages me to continue.
Special thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful banner and her patience and
willingness to preread and comment on my stories.
Spike roared through the darkened streets of Sunnydale. He had
only lived here a few months and had never really gone out much
but he had detailed directions to his planned destination
so he sped on with confidence.
Despite his tough guy name and persona, something he had developed
in his last year at boarding school as a means of self preservation
from the gay bullies, Spike was a geek at heart.
During his two years with Angel he had ventured onto the wild
side. Threesoms, foursoms, pot, to much alcohol, but it never really was him.
Content to stay home, he preferred reading the Wall Street Journal
or watching CNN to going out to a party.
This was a situation that the girls at the salon found entirely intolerable.
They had, on several occasions, tried to get him to go to into the city to
see the male strippers, but he had always refused.
It wasn't that he didn't like the view of a handsome piece of hubba
hubba shaking his meaty money maker, but fact was he just couldn't
see himself parting with the hard earned dollars he knew he would
be expected to shove down "there".
As a last resort, Keri had told him about the Bronze. She had said
that although it wasn't a gay club, it was VERY progressive. Men
with men. Girls with girls.
Pretty much anything was o.k. and no eyebrows would be strained
in their trek northward.
As soon as he pulled on to Jay St. he knew he was there. While
all the other streets and blocks in the town were dark and dead,
this one was bouncing. A steady stream of people going in and
coming out prevented the door from ever completely closing.
The security lights strategically placed on several areas of the
perimeter of the building caused contrasting corners of light
and shadows and encouraged the type activity that takes place in
such as that.
Coming to a sputtering, rumbling stop in a surprisingly good parking
spot, Spike threw his leg over the bike and climbed off.
A gaggle of younger girls giggled and winked as they passed
him then squealed and jumped even though they knew they were
still within ear shot.
Spike smiled and chuckled. He came out so infrequently he
forgot how alive it could make him feel. Whenever Wes had
insisted on a "date" it had ended up becoming uncomfortable
due to Wes's need for PDA and Spike's reluctance.
An argument at home always capped the evening with both
men angry and feeling misunderstood.
He stood outside for a minute. Everything looked relaxed,
easy going. Tonight might be just what he needed after all.
Spike didn't mind that it was a college crowd. They were, for the
most part, his age group and at 23 he still looked young enough to
be carded at the door.
He also looked dangerous enough to receive the required scowl
and warning from the bouncer of "We don't want no trouble in here.
You don't start no shit and there won't be no shit."
Spike paid the cover charge and nodded his head. Fact was,
shit was the last thing he wanted tonight.
He just wanted a couple drinks, maybe a dance or two, and some
time out of the house while Wes thanked Gunn for finding "that
fuckin' spot. Oh God, yes, right there."
Actually Spike was glad for Wes. He deserved someone who could
find and tickle "the fuckin' spot".
Stepping inside, he immediately moved over to avoid being squished
in the clump of teenagers rolling out the door as the !0:00 intermission
Keri had told him that the music would stop at the curfew
and all underagers would be shuffled out. After that the real party
started. She had winked and told him everyone left in the club would
be over 18 and fair game.
The effect was immediate. The bubble gum music had ceased and the
twinkling flashing lights darkened, slowed and strobed sensually.
Spike watched as the band that had been playing cleared the stage
and after a few minutes, and older, rougher looking bunch stepped up.
The crowd milled around restlessly, stacking up three rows deep at the
bar and claiming the tables that had just been vacated by the wannabe
grown ups. They waited impatiently for the real music and action to
begin. It also gave the roving bouncers a chance to weed out the
rebels trying to hide out and stay behind.
After 20 minutes, that seemed like an hour, Spike collected his drink
just as the band struck up the cords of their first set. Turning around
he let his eyes scan the room for any where he could plant his ass
as he enjoyed his Pepsi and jack and maybe looked for someone
willing to dance, no strings attached.
As the tempo of the music filled the room Spike could feel the pulse
and rhythm as the mob rolled and moved almost as one.
He closed his eyes and let the thumping of the bass reverberate
through his body.
Slowly, he opened his eyes and, looking straight ahead, saw just
what he was looking for. Sitting at a small bar table, alone, was the
most gorgeous, dark haired young man he had ever seen.
He almost looked familiar, but, nay, he would have remembered
him, so swallowing the rest of his drink in one gulp, he set his glass
down and started over.
With his eye on the prize Spike slithered through the mob that was forming
on the dance floor. Several men and women alike tried to engage him.
The shy ones would try to catch his eye, touch his hand or just smile
and wink as he passed. The bolder one's groped him suggestively,
pressing their bodies against him, grinding, bumping, rolling with the
encouragement of the sound that bounced off the walls and through
his body and settling in is cock.
Although he did pause two or three times to share a beat of the
music as he passed, he basically stayed on target. A target
that now was starting to move in his seat.
Spike reached the perimeter of the dance floor and stepped down
onto the main level. He took two more steps forward and froze.
The young man he had been zeroing in on had now thrown his
arms high in the air, his head back and was jerking wildly in his seat.
'Oh My God!' Spike shocked when his brain finally located the
missing information of why the boy looked familiar.
'That's Mrs. Harris's son! The simpleton!'
Spike stared with his mouth hanging open just as Xander's face
leveled and his eye lids lifted. Their gaze locked in a stare that
shot through both their bodies.
Xander stopped moving, both arms still high in the air and his
hair sweaty and dripping.
Spike half expected him to pound his chest like a gorilla and swing
from the rafters.
Being the first to come to his senses, Spike immediately turned and dove
back into the pulsing, throbbing dance floor praying he hadn't been
Notice from the Bee.
Yes, it is that time of year again and the Bee is buzzing off to Vegas
for a few days. I will post Wed. morning before I leave but will not
be posting again till I return on Sunday. The Bee appreciates your