bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,
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Count Luffton

Title: COUNT LUFFTON
1/26
Author: BmblBee
Paring: S/X, AU
Rating: Adult NC17 for language and M/M sexual content.
Disclaimer: The Bee owns nothing including the characters and
products named in this story.
Warnings: Sex, violence and character death. Yes, Luffton the mouse
dies.
Summary: This story is a followup to Mouse but it is not necessary
to have read it. Xander brings Spike home to kill a mouse.
The mouse escaped and Spike stayed for the fun, games
and conflicts that S/X always get up to. One night Spike
gets more than a little drunk and does something stupid.

Comments: The last few stories have been drama and trauma. I felt
we needed some lighthearted fluff, comedy and stupidity.

Thanks to: Petxnd for her preread and suggestions and to Silk Labyrinth
for her betaing of boo boos. It should be noted that if any
irregularities remain it is due to the Bee's bullheadedness.






Luffton was incensed!

He paced angrily back and forth in the small crawlspace of the apartment
building he called home. It had taken him weeks to find just the right spot
to put down roots, and now here he was, banished and unwanted like
yesterday's turd droppings.

Born to a loving mother, he had been the first popped out in a litter of
ten and had happily suckled at his mother's teat for just a few short weeks.
Later, the motherly madonna became more of a loosie goosie when she
again found herself with a protruding mouse belly and he was unceremoniously
booted from the nest with all of his other brothers and sisters.

Ejected, rejected and no longer protected, he was suddenly homeless. What
a cruel, cruel world. Luckily, he had been born into an apartment building that
offered several floors of opportunities for a bachelor mouse like Luffton to set
up digs that would impress any potential mate. First, however, the dilemma of
finding a comfortable bed and plenty of food was the priority.

In the beginning, it had been decided that he and two of his brothers, Wilbur and
Barcus, would all room together. Safety in numbers. The more the merrier.
Twelve paws are better than one. All the usual sayings that in the end meant nothing.

Wilbur, who had always been a tad on the slow side mentally, proved to be so
physically as well when he was eaten during the first night's exploration by a huge
cat. It was a shame, really, but not one that Luffton wasted a lot of time lamenting.
After all, if the idiot was stupid enough to be lunching out of a bowl of Meow Mix,
what the fuck did he expect?

So, he and Barcus were now on their own and, being a family-minded mouse,
Luffton would have been content to keep it that way if it weren't for one slight point.
One minor personality flaw that his dear brother possessed that grinded Luffton's
nuggets and got on his last nerve until he just wanted to scream.

Barcus was a cheese whore.

Whenever they slipped silently into a human's dwelling, Barcus would happily munch
on cereal, crackers or any of the wonderful things humans toss into the trash and
store as an open invitation to any rodent with an empty belly and a nose for food.
But, god forbid, the humans have cheese and the mice's attempts to keep their
activities lowkey would go right out the window.

At the first scent of Swiss, cheddar or even Limburger, Barcus's beady little eyes would
glass over. His whiskers would twitch frantically and his little body would all but
fall into spasms of delight. Followed by the squealing. And there it was.

His high-pitched squeak was like a beacon of light. It was a huge red arrow that
pointed directly to them as he all but had an undignified orgasm while shoving the
chunky dairy products into his mouth. He gorged himself till he was foundered,
bloated and rolling on his back with a belly that appeared as though someone had
stuck an air hose up his rectum and inflated him like a balloon in the Rose Day
parade.

Luffton had more than once had to drag his bulbous brother away and, at the very
last second, shove him through their small hole in the wall before the huge, shouting
and stomping humans caught up to them.

As expected, Barcus's future was written in the very cheese he had coveted when
one evening Luffton had been out scouting potential homes and had, in fact,
found what appeared to be a perfect one. There were snack foods laid out in
the kitchen like a buffet. Crumbs and popcorn kernels littered the living room floor
and even an apparently forgotten onion ring that, although slightly petrified, was
hidden under the man's bed just waiting to be devoured. It was the Bob Evans
of mousedom.

Just as he rushed back through the wall to collect his brother, he heard it. A huge
loud "SNAP." It echoed, bounced off the walls and rang like a church bell that
Luffton knew signaled the demise of his beloved Barcus. Forcing himself to look,
Luffton poked his head out of the hole and was face to smooched face with what
was left of Barcus.

He was stretched out on his belly on a small wooden board. His head was flattened
by a metal bar and his eyes were bugged out of his face. But the most memorable
part was his mouth. It was still jammed full of cheese.

Luffton shrugged. Well, you live by the cheese and you die by the cheese. Life's
a bitch.

Luffton turned and hustled back through the spaces, up the rafters, around the wall
joists and proceeded directly to the small hole he had begun to chew through the
drywall. He couldn't waste any more time. With the way his mother was cranking
out mice, one of his siblings was sure to find this place if he didn't hurry and lay
claim to it.
Once he had widened the opening slightly, he slipped in and went to work.

It was paradise.

Within days he had established a routine. The huge goof that lived there was gone
most of the day, allowing Luffton plenty of time to cruise through, have a leisurely
breakfast, stroll around the apartment and even take a quick nap in a cozy spot he
had chewed into the sofa. It should have been an arrangement that could have
continued indefinitely if not for the loud, rude and constant objections of the human
who called Luffton names that the mouse found most disquieting. After all, why
should the marital status of Luffton's mother be of any concern in this situation?

Then came the other one.

The human man took their private disagreements to an outsider, and the other man
came in and created an atmosphere that Luffton found most objectionable. It wasn't
the regular bouts of faux breeding that the men engaged in that bothered him as
much as the raised voices and angry gestures. Luffton could not understand why
these two people continued to cohabitate if they had so many conflicting issues.
Luffton wondered if one of them was a cheese whore. That would certainly
explain the fights and the slammed doors. At any rate, the fighting was a good sign.

At first, Luffton watched patiently as his whiskers twitched and he rubbed his little
paws together happily. He was certain that one of the men would leave. With
a bit of luck, they both would move out and abandon all the sugary treats and
spoiled fruits. But that didn't happen. After each episode of shouting and
yelling, they would take off their clothes and begin trying to make baby mice.
Luffton wondered why someone didn't tell them that two males will never have
a litter of mice.

Finally, by the fourth day, Luffton had had enough. Hunger had him taking chances
and darting through the house, timing the sounds of his little claws on the wood
floor to mesh with the grunts and groans of the men who were valiantly trying to
get bred.

When he had to settle on a crushed peanut and a couple of Cheerios that had
rolled under the kitchen table, Luffton decided it was time to take a stand. This
had been his home long before the blond person moved in which meant that
Luffton had squatter's rights.

Luffton was here to stay.
This was his home and the blond man would just have to go!
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