bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,

Rough Diamond

Author: BmblBee
Paring: S/X
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: The Bee owns none of the characters or products named in this story.
Warning: This story contains mention of prostitution, group sex, violence, m/m orgies
and one wild raccoon.

Summary: Xander is a male prostitute. It is his chosen occupation and he is very
happy with it. One night he takes on a group of clients with a friend and things
do not go as planned. When his friend is found murdered, homicide is called in.
Spike is a brilliant detective with OCD issues. When he is told to hide out in the
woods with the witness to protect, he gets more than he could have imagined.

Special thanks to Petxnd for the wonderful banners, the story idea and for holding my
hand during the writing.

After nearly an hour, both men were relaxed, refreshed and their tummies full
and satisfied. They had companionably discussed the exit's, routes and highways
and Spike was certain he would have no trouble finding their destination. A trip
they estimated to take another three hours.

When they returned to the car, Spike briefly consider revisiting the towel issue
but decided that the damage had already been done so he dropped it. Xander
flopped on to his seat, tipped his hat low on his face and crossed his arms.
The big breakfast had left him sleepy and a quick nap was demanding attention.

"Look, I know the fucking rules, but do you care if I just kick my boots off
while I snooze?"

Spike never took his eyes from the road as they pulled back in to traffic.
His voice remained low and calm.

"I have a gun in my shoulder holster. If you remove your foul boots, I shall
shoot you."

Xander shrugged.
"Fair enough. Just thought I'd ask."

The rest of the trip was made in silence. Xander slept while Spike's brain sped
faster than the Volvo. He often stole glances at the man beside him wondering
what made him tick. How could he do the things he did? How could he allow
men to sully his body the way they did, not knowing what sort of disease and
contamination they carried. Did he achieve sexual satisfaction during these encounters?

There was no denying that the boy could be charming. That was more than
evident by the way men and women alike smiled and flirted with him in the
restaurant. No one had ever done that with Spike, although to be fair, he would
never encourage it.

He had known physical pleasure with men. During his experimental days in
college he had dated, platonically, several women and had intimate relationships
with two men. Each of the two relationships had run their course. They burned
hot and fast and in the end, Spike was unable to compromise and the men
he was with couldn't stand his nit picking. All had parted on good terms.

But this, he knew was different. Wanton. Wild and unrestricted, throwing
caution and cleanliness to the wind, it would be pay your money and take a ride
on the Xander express. Release your inhibitions and allow this boy, who probably
knew all the mysterious and wondrous things that one man could do to another
to bring your body earth shaking pleasures.

Spike wondered what it would be like. Buying the physical favors of a stranger.
For a few minutes, he allowed his fantasy to continue as the mile markers clicked
off with monotonous repetition. His eyes darted over noting the strong thighs
that sat, separated, bouncing marginally as the car hit a random rough patch of
highway. Spike gripped the wheel with white knuckles as his heartbeat escalated.

When the boy unexpectedly snuffed and grunting in his sleep, the sound cut through
the silence, startling Spike back to reality. He was horrified to realize he had a
raging boner. Immediately, his mind went into control mode to distract himself and
hopefully deflate a potentially catastrophic situation. It took nearly twenty minutes,
but it finally, much to his relief, went down.

Two hours and ten minutes later, Spike pulled the car slowly forward on the narrow
dirt path and he turned off the engine.


The tone of shock, terror and repulsion in Spike's voice woke Xander with a start
and he sat bolt upright, sure the car had been surrounded by a small army of
Columbians with small rocket launchers and AK 47's.

"What? What? What's wrong?"

When Xander's line of sight followed Spike's pointing finger, what he saw look
less to him like hell and more like heaven. Without being told to, Xander leapt
from the car and rushed forward. He finally looked back over his shoulder
at the man who was apparently not going to exit the vehicle.

"Is this it? Oh my god, Spike, it's so neat. Come on get your ass out here.
Gimme a key and lets look inside."

Xander bounced on his feet. It was everything he had hoped for and he tried
to take it all in at once. The building was small, one story high with a peaked
roof. The entire cabin was constructed of old, weather worn logs. It was
evident that it had not been used in years and the folage of the area had all
but overtaken it.

Three wood slat steps led up to a wide, railed porch that ran the entire length
of the front of the cabin.

Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply, all Xander could smell was the damp
earth and vegetation of the deep woods that surrounded them. The sounds that
filled his ears were totally foreign. Gone was the traffic, the horns and shouts.
Absent were all traces of civilization, replaced with birds, crickets and the breeze
that rustled through the branches and leaves. Xander felt as though he and Spike
were the only two people left in the world.

Despite his reservations, Xander's enthusiasm made Spike smile and worked
like a shoehorn to wedge him from the car. Cautiously, he eased out yet he
remained close in case he needed to hop back in. Reaching in his coat pocket,
Spike extricated the small key and held out his hand. Not waiting for permission,
or comment, Xander snatched it and ran up the steps.

Spike hung back, next to his avenue of escape and he watched as the boy
fumbled for a minute then disappeared. He heard him let out a whoop of
excitement and he immediately reappeared on the edge of the porch.

"Come on! Hurry up! It's great, Spike, come and see."

When Spike didn't immediately respond, Xander put his hands on his hips
and he tried to scowl, though his excitement was making a show of anger
all but impossible.

"Damn it Spike. For once in your life, don't be a prick. We're here and
you can't spend the whole week in your fucking car, so give it the fuck up and
come see."

Reluctantly, Spike had to admit, the boy was right. After all, he wondered,
how bad can it be? Cautiously he stepped forward, careful to keep his feet
on the narrow, dirt path and avoid the high, noxious weeds that lined the

He gingerly placed one foot on the first step as he evaluated the strength and
durability of the worn, warped, plank. When it held his meager weight, he
advanced to the next. As he made his way to the porch, he held back.
Several boards appeared to be weak and suspiciously cracked.

Before he could express his concerns regarding the buildings structural integrity,
Xander grabbed him by the sleeve and physically jerked him inside.
When Spike saw the interior of the small place that would be their temporary
home, he staggered back and very nearly passed out.
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