bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
bmblbee
bmblbee
bloodclaim

Rough Diamond

Title: ROUGH DIAMOND
27/43
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.


Spike sat sadly and wondered what he could have possible done in his short
28 years that could have caused him to deserve this hell on earth. He shifted
uncomfortably and looked all around at the tall weeds, wild flowers, and
trees that blocked the sunlight and shrouded the area in a canopy of green.

Listening to the constant chirp of the tree frogs the numerous tweets, whistles
and caws of what must have been thousands of birds, Spike looked down
at the jeans and boxers that were tangled tightly around his ankles.
He, of course, still wore the protective rubber gloves.

If anyone would have told him, even a week ago, that he would be sitting
out here, in the woods, with his bare ass hanging over the rough, bark covered
edge of a fallen tree as he shit like the proverbial bear, he would have laughed
out loud. Today, he was not laughing.

He had tried to use the privy. He had nearly convinced himself that it was
a possibility. He knew, within seconds, that there was no way he could remain
for another instant in that germ and disease infested building with the wooden
hole in the seat and God knows what, down in the pit beneath.

So here he sat. Suffering the degradation as well as the physical consequences
of the mistake that was last night's pizza. Each time he would think he was
finished and ready for the newspaper, his gut would twist and another stream
of watery, foul smelling poop soup would hit the ground.

Gradually, the volume of liquid feces seemed to lessen and the cramping
stopped. With a sigh, Spike balled up a handful of paper and now wanted
nothing more than to finish and rush back to the cabin to wash.

So, with the paper in one hand and his weight balanced on the other, he
leaned reluctantly forward. Then, before he could wipe up, he heard a strange
and disturbingly close sound. It was a rustling, a movement in the thick
underbrush and it seemed to be heading his way. Spike froze as his ears tried
to identify the noise.

During his time of painful rectal evacuation, Spike had heard a myriad of
woodland creatures. He had seen birds fly in and away, He had watched a small
rabbit hop nearby, and upon catching a whiff of the stench, scurry in the other
direction, but this sound was different. This was louder and firmer, indicating a
creatures of some size and weight. His detective's powers of deduction drew a
picture of a lion or tiger or bear. Oh my.

Fumbling, Spike attempted to hurry and wipe the newspaper over his sore ass hole
as he swore under his breath. Suddenly, in a swift, heart stopping move, the
creature propelled itself from it's crouched hiding place. Just as Spike lifted himself
from his spot on the fallen log, the demon monster leapt and landed squarely on
the terrified detective's face, blinding him and filling his mouth and nose with the odor
of wild fur.

With a horrified scream, Spike's instincts for self preservation and survival kicked
in and he started swinging, slapping and trying to shove the animal off him
before it had the chance to rip his throat out or claw his eyes.

The sudden weight on him, combined with the release of his hold on the tree
stump caused the frightened man to tumble backward as his feet kicked
frantically to try and dislodge the tangle of fabric that restricted his legs. Spike
was certain he was about to die as the struggle for life and death continued.

Xander had spent the time alone puttering around. He decided to surprise Spike
by cleaning up the breakfast clutter and put the finishing touches on a detailed list,
along with a question about laundry services that he had prepared for his call
to Andrew. He had promised himself not to tease Spike too ruthlessly about
this little bathroom incident.

Still, he had to smile and chuckle when he thought about it.

With the dishes washed and neatly put away, Xander was in the process of
a final wipe up when he heard it. The faint sound of a voice calling, shouting,
indiscernible by word but crystal clear in emotion.

Immediately, Xander threw his wet rag down on the table and he rushed out
the back door, yelling as he went.

"SPIKE! SPIKE!"

When he jumped, sailing over the two back porch steps, Xander landed with a
thump on the ground and he ran toward the direction of the voice that he
could now understand was calling his name.

Before he had gone twenty feet, Spike came crashing through the concealment
of the tall grass and he stumbled into the clearing. He was naked from the
waist down and his face and legs were covered with small scrapes and cuts.
The remnants of ripped rubber gloved hung from his hands.

Xander ran to him and caught him in his arms as Spike's whole body trembled
and shook. As he held him close, Xander could smell that the smaller man
was coated in shit.

Xander was rattled. He couldn't imagine what had happened, but he was
enormously relieved that whatever it was, Spike seemed to be physically all right.

"Shh. Shh. Spike. You're o.k. You're all right. Come on, come in the cabin."

"No!"

Suddenly, Spike shoved Xander back and he jerked at his shirt. Frantically,
trying to get the filth and contamination off himself, Spike popped the buttons
as his cut, bloody hands pulled and strained at the fabric.

When Xander realized what was happening, he grabbed Spike's wrists to
stop him.

"Stop it, Spike. Let me. Let me help you."

Spike shook violently. Unable to answer, he nodded as the tears ran down
his face. Xander tried not to do the same and he knew he would never
tease Spike about his germ phobia again. When the detective was naked,
he stood, looking very small and weak and Xander's heart went out to him.

Gently, Xander led him to stand on the back porch.
"Look, you just wait here for a minute. I'm going to get a hot pan of water
and some soap and I'll come out and wash you."

The look of gratitude in the red rimmed blue eyes twisted in Xander's heart.
With his palm on Spike's cheek, Xander lightly kissed his lips before he rushed
off. Spike wrapped his arms around himself and he waited.
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