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.
"You say you've never ridden before?"
Xander threw his leg over and settled into what was a surprisingly
comfortable padded leather seat.
He leaned forward and spoke in Spikes ear, hoping to be heard
over the ear piercing shouts and girly screams of the fight that still
raged around them.
He knew any minute now the bouncers would show up and start tossing
people around. He had been tossed a time or two.
He listened while Spike showed him where to put his feet, explained
about leaning into the curves and told him to wrap his arms around
Spike's waist and hang on.
Xander gripped the smaller man tightly and rested his cheek on
Spike smiled and kicked the bike to life. He noticed two
of the drunks fighting had just slammed another one against
the side of some poor bloke's Chevy.
They sped out of the lot, the wind in their faces, leaving the noise and
activity behind them. Once out on the highway Spike leaned back
into the solid weight behind him. It felt great. He hadn't had anyone
ride with him since Angel. Wes had always refused.
Xander watched the road below him and marveled at the fact that it was
just inches away with no protection between. He was hooked. It was
a feeling like flying. He felt absolutely no fear, willingly placing
his very life in the very capable hands of the man on the bike with him.
The danger was erotic as hell and his cock was once again hard and leaking.
He knew as tightly as he held on, Spike had to be aware of the erection
pressing into the small of the driver's back.
It took Xander a minute to realize what Spike was asking before he
"Oh, left up ahead. About four miles. I live down on Crater Ave."
Spike snorted. He knew the town well enough to know that was the
oldest and poorest part. Mostly rundown houses, the only thing
flourishing down there were the dozen or so bars and massage parlors.
Seemed Spike's assessment of Mrs. Harris and a house trailer had
been a bit off. A house trailer would be a step up.
Spike frowned. He didn't like the idea of Xander living down there.
Probably at the mercy of all sorts of predators, drunks and junkies.
Made him wonder what the boy did all day.
"Xander. Hey, just wondering, you got a job?"
Xander cringed. As much as he really liked Spike, or maybe because
of it, he did NOT want to discuss his mother's alcoholism and how
it had cost him more than one minimum wage experience.
"I had one, but, ah, I kinda lost it. Boss fired me over a little misunderstanding.
It wasn't my fault, but, you know. Shit happens. I'm lookin' for
something else, but just haven't found it yet."
Xander hoped that was honest enough without being specific.
Spike's temper faired. 'Fuckin' arrogant prick most likely fired the boy
over somethin' that wasn't even his fault. Would it kill people to be a little
patient and understanding?'
"No worry, Pet. I'm sure you'll find something that suites you."
Xander grinned and rested his face against Spike's back, drinking in the
rich smell of leather from his bomber jacket.
Way too soon for either of them, Spike turned the corner and pulled
onto Crater Ave.
The bike slowed to a low rumble as he cruised, waiting for further instruction.
Reluctantly, Xander pointed at a weather worn, badly in need of paint,
two story frame house on the corner.
The tall pine tree on the side had grown there so long the top surrounded
the power lines that ran to the house. Spike mentally added it to the list
of things Mrs. Harris would hear about on Tuesday.
By his calculation it was number twenty six.
Twenty seven was the stack of empty beer bottles littering the front yard.
Xander hated that it was almost over. The best night of his life and he
wanted it to last so he squeezed his eyes tightly shut refusing to watch as
Spike pulled up to the curb in the front of the house.
Feeling the bike stop, Xander kept his arms locked around Spike's waist
and his forehead rested between Spike's shoulder blades.
Laughing, Spike patted Xander's hands.
"Come on, Pet. We're here. Did the ride scare you that much?"
Reluctantly Xander released his iron grip and, lifting his leg up and over,
he climbed off as Spike leaned forward.
"No, I wasn't scared. It was fantastic. I love........your bike."
Xander blushed. He couldn't believe what he had almost done.
Stepping back from the bike Xander fumbled for something to say.
He wanted Spike to kiss him again. He wanted promises, phone
numbers, arrangements, but he had no idea where to start.
This wasn't like a date with a girl. You took them home, got as
much and as far as they let you before they slapped your hand or
in the case of Anya Miller, your face, then you got their number,
even though you had no intention of ever calling, and you drove away.
This was different. New, and he didn't know the rules. Were there rules?
Yeah, there were always rules.
Spike watched the boy shuffle his feet and stammer.
He wanted to jump off his bike and sweep him into his arms. He wanted
to kiss him again and again.
Luckily, the cool night air had gone a long way to sobering him up and
Spike was beginning to recognize the stupidity of his earlier actions.
There was no way he could get involved or have any type of relationship
with this boy.
Hell, it was probably illegal depending on the boy's I.Q.
O.k. this was California, so it was probably not against the law since
nothing in California seemed to be against the law, but still, his life
was already laid out, organized and ready to be filed. There was no
room for anyone else. So, if not illegal, at least inadvisable.
He couldn't afford any distraction from his financial goal of owning his
own shop. He could not afford any distraction. His heart had no room.
Kicking the bike back to life, Spike casually turned to Xander and gave
him a wave of the hand.
"Take care, Boy. Mind your Mum."
And with that he roared off and disappeared down the street.
Xander was so caught off guard with the abruptness of it he continued
to stand watching, a thousand witty responses dying on his lips, as
Spike and the Harley sped off.
Even with the way it ended, Xander could not be upset. It had been
everything a perfect date could be and he knew if he lived to be 100 it
was one he would play over in his mind each day of that 100 years.
Sighing, and with a huge grin on his face, Xander rammed his hands in
the pocket of his jeans and, whistling, turned to walk back down the
sidewalk, away from his house.
The four mile trek back to get his car would give him time to remember.