bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
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bmblbee
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Dream Catcher

Title: Dream Catcher
18/37
Author: BmblBee
Rating: NC17
Paring: S/X
Warnings: Strong sexual language and M/M sexual situations.
Disclaimer: The Bee freely admits she owns none of the characters in this story
and makes no profit. I simply borrow them, then hose them down before returning
them to the shelf for others to use.

Summary: AU. This story is a follow-up to Carnivale Mystique.
At the ending of Carnivale, Willow vowed to spend her life looking for her lost
friend and that is just what she has done. Now, after nearly 40 years, she and
the carnival cross paths again. Can she finally get the answers she needs and
protect her granddaughter from falling victim to the special allure of the carnival?
During the telling of this story will be flashback chapters that tell how Spike
and Xander adjusted to their roles of master and pet.

Note: If you haven't read Carnivale Mystique or have forgotten the story,
there is a prologue that contains a brief summary of the story. Use the tags
at the top of the page to find your way there.

Thanks and credit to silk_labyrinth for betaing the spelling, punctuation and
finding wandering boo boos.




As always, thanks to the wonderful Petxnd for her friendship and her banners that
put the perfect visual to my words.


As hoped, the night was memorable. Spike came in early. He had sipped and
supped on three men when he had stumbled on a trio of burly, leather daddies in
the highway rest stop. It had been frantic, furious and so fucking rough and rowdy
that none of them seemed to notice that Spike neither gave nor received an anal
cock transplant.

Despite the urge, he stemmed no rose.

For the men, just the fact that Spike was biting them on the inner thighs and necks
was such an erotic charge that they didn't care. They couldn't believe their luck.
Vampire movies were the hot ticket of the moment and here they were with a
handsome young stranger that would actually suck the blood from their crotch
while they took it up the ass!

Life didn't get much sweeter than that. It even capped the time they ran into
the young man who said his name was Andrew that liked to be peed on. Woo hoo!
That had been one they talked about for weeks. Now they had them an honest-
to-goodness vampire wannabe and the fantasy and the stimulation had them all
cumming in record time.

Spike even took a load on the face as his own cock erupted in pleasant, preXander
spurts and he couldn't wait to get home for the real thing.

When he arrived, his belly was full and his dick the same. The minute he saw the
layout prepared for him, Spike roared and pounced. The trailer rocked for hours
and the raucous noise kept everyone around them awake, annoyed and envious
in equal measure.

By daylight, the bedroom was trashed. Lube was splashed on the ceiling and there
were footprints on every wall. The smell rolling off the vibrators had Xander wrinkling
his nose and smacking Spike on the ass as he slept as punishment for not having to
breathe. He vowed to soak and wash them all later.

Although he had exhausted himself four times and his cock was no longer speaking to
him, Xander was wide awake. He smiled as he stared into the face of the vampire
curled up next to him, dead to the world. When Spike got home, Xander could see
a few dried spunk flakes still on his chin when Spike had wiped off his face, but that
was all right.

Unlike the early years, Xander no longer sniffed Spike's cock or tasted inside his
tight hole for traces of infidelity. A guy just had to learn to trust. He was long past
caring if Spike got off on or in someone who was giving him blood, but he would
never admit that to his Master.
No, in many ways, the Pet had the Master trained.

So, no matter what or who Spike did, he always came home to Xander and that
was all that was important. Besides, if Spike ever showed an emotional attachment
to anyone other than Xander, Xander would simply have to eviscerate the lowly
bug of a human. Regrettable, but necessary. Spike was his!

Leaning down, Xander gently bumped his nose against the sleeping vampire's and
he glanced his cheek off the soft blond hair as the familiar feeling of love rushed
through him. Finally, he planted a light brush of his lips on the top of his Master's
head and he slipped from the bed.

There was no way he was going to be able to sleep this morning. He needed to
wash up and he craved fresh air and sunlight. Knowing the small town that lay four
miles up the road had a coffee shop popped into his head as the perfect solution and
destination.

He snickered as he stood on shaky legs, weakened by the contortions and muscle
contractions coaxed from him earlier, and he held his breath till he could run to the
shower and wash all the nastiness that ran from his orifice and down between
his legs. He then picked a pubic hair from between his teeth.

When he was cleaned, deodorized, his teeth brushed and his hair combed, Xander
checked one last time on his companion before stepping out into the crisp, cool
morning air. It was autumn in the Midwest. His warm breath came out in foggy
puffs and his eyes watered till they adjusted to the sting of the cold.

It was magnificent!

His feet hit the path to town and a whistled tune accompanied him and made the
long walk relaxing and enjoyable. He marveled at the vivid colors of the changing
leaves and the pink hue in the horizon as the sun began its job of lighting and warming
the world. He wished Spike could have this simple joy, but sadly knew that could
never be.

As consolation, Xander resolved to compensate by bringing him back a couple of
the maple bear claws from the coffee shop. His vampire Master was a real sucker
for nut-covered pastry.

The trip into town took him nearly 90 minutes but he didn't care. It had been
wonderful. A luxury of privacy, calm and quiet that was rarely available in the
world of the carnival. The only thing nearly this pleasant was the time they spent
in the Thesus dimension where the inhabitants take great pride in their lack of
chitchat. Say what you mean, mean what you say, then shut the fuck up. A very
advanced society.

It was 8 AM and the Catfish Cafe was just unlocking its doors as he stepped up
to enter. It was bright, cheery and smelled of the heavenly odors of fresh-brewed
coffee and heady, warm baked goods. Xander settled into a green plastic booth
by the large front window and waited for the devilish, chunky waitress to ply him
with sinful morning treats.

Xani fussed and fumed as her legs pumped the pedals of her bicycle angrily. Here it
was, Saturday morning and her gramma couldn't even give her one goddamn morning
to sleep in. She had tossed and turned all night and hadn't dozed off till nearly 2:30
as her mind had been on the carnival and the stunning things that she had found there.

When merciful slumber had finally overtaken her, she was mentally and physically
spent and hoping to sleep till noon but nooooo. Gramma picks that time to point
out that they are out of milk and denies that she said that was what she went out
for last night. Xani had premonitions of Gramma getting early stages Alzheimer's.

So it was a combination of pity and the superiority that comes with youth that had
Xani biting her tongue and swallowing the protests and insults that her crankiness
felt were justified, and she dressed and got on her bicycle.

She shivered against the cold morning air and regretted not wearing her gloves
as she sped down the street and around the corner to the local, overpriced market.
When she zipped down Maple St., her head snapped to the side and she nearly
took a tumble onto the sidewalk.

There he was! The boy/young man of her dreams. The angel in the blue light
was drinking a cappuccino, eating a sticky bun and reading the locals.
Xani's heart rate shot up and her body forgot it was cold. She slammed on the
brakes and set her feet on the ground to hold her bike upright and steady.

She swallowed around the lump in her throat and wondered what she should do.
It seemed brazen and forward to just walk in and sit down with him, and the
buzzing in her ears and lightheadedness warned that if she did, she may pass out.

But this was too good an opportunity to pass up. He was alone. So was she.
They could talk. Chitchat over coffee (yuck) and warm fat-fried dough. 'Oh,
Sweet Jesus' she thought. 'Please, Xani, for once in your pitiful life.....'

TAP TAP TAP TAP

The rest of her mental scolding went unfinished as the sound of knuckles on glass
snapped her out of her haze and she looked up. He was smiling at her. AT HER!
And he was holding up his cup and donut in an invitation to join him!

Like a zombie drawn to his voodoo master, Xani released her grip on the handlebars
and paid no heed when the bicycle clunked to the ground. She easily stepped over
it and walked into the Catfish Cafe.

"Hi. Good morning. I thought that was you. I think your bike fell over. Would
you like to sit for a while with me? Coffee?"

Xani slid into the opposite side of the booth and grinned like a fool.

"Yes?"
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