Rating: NC-17
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Spike:
The boy was easy to track.
Even though Spike lost sight of him once he'd left the Wolfram & Hart building, the vampire just followed his nose until he picked up that delectable scent again. Lindsey hadn't gone down to the parking structure as Spike expected-he'd gone out the doors in the main lobby and carried on across the street. He stopped at a newsstand and purchased a few magazines, then he headed for a cluster of buildings opposite Wolfram & Hart.
It was just past 3:00 that afternoon and the sky was dark and heavy with pending rain. Spike knew he could get across the street if he hurried, but it would be safer to just slip underground. From the safety of the lobby, he watched the boy walk up to a restaurant in the Library Tower. Spike knew that place. He'd heard some of the lawyers in the office talking about it on different occasions. Apparently, it was quite posh and had a nice bar, good happy hour drinks. He'd also heard something about the place having lovely crab cakes. Grinning, he moved quickly through the lobby and took the elevator down to the parking level. From there, he could access the sewer line under the building and take the tunnel that ran beneath the street Lindsey had just crossed.
He was a bit disoriented when he emerged in the carport of the Library Tower, but the signs on the walls directed him to where he needed to go. McCormick & Schmick, the restaurant was called. Right. Spike remembered now. Since young Lindsey was visiting his old stomping grounds, perhaps he was meeting some local pals for a drink.
Spike took the elevator up to the restaurant and slipped by the pretty but harried-looking hostess at the desk. He didn't want a table. Spike was following the hot young lawyer's scent and that led him directly into the bar.
He stopped in the dark-paneled entrance and glanced around quickly. Nice room, that-low light, plush booths, long sturdy bar with every imaginable type of spirit decorating the wall behind. The bottles glinted like wet gems against the mirror. There were only a few patrons about at that odd time of day so he spotted the handsome lad straight away.
Lindsey sat in a horseshoe shaped booth in the corner and a smartly dressed, overly thin waitress with way too perfect skin stood beside him taking his order. He smiled at her as she walked off to get his drink and Spike grinned at the lecherous little glance the boy gave her backside. Had to be an ass man, didn't he? What with his girlfriend likin' it from behind.
Spike strided across the warm room until he came to the table next to Lindsey's booth. He sat down quietly and folded his long legs in front of him, watching the boy as he flipped through one of the magazines he'd bought. He kept staring relentlessly until Lindsey turned and looked at him.
"'Ello, again," Spike said cheerfully.
Lindsey smirked. "See? I was right. You are his guard dog."
"Me? Nah. Just a very rude bloodhound." Spike stood up and ambled over to the booth, propping one knee on the seat opposite Lindsey. "Hangin' about for a reason, lambchop? Or do you just like this part of downtown?"
"I'm giving my girlfriend a ride home," Lindsey said. "She's in a meeting until 5:00."
"Ah," the vampire said, then he nodded at the booth. "May I?"
Lindsey extended his hand but said nothing. Spike sat down.
As soon as his ass was in the booth, that synthetically pretty waitress appeared at the table again to ask if Spike wanted a drink. He did, in fact. He asked the girl to bring him a Guinness. When she was gone and they were alone again, he leaned over the polished table and lowered his voice to a whisper.
"I hope I didn't hurt you too badly back there in the office," Spike said. "I tend to be a bit . . . excitable."
"My attorney will be in touch if there's any permanent damage," the boy said dryly. His big blue eyes danced like pale sapphires in the glow of the well-placed lamps near the booth. This was the sort of lighting that made everyone look good even before the happy hour drinks flowed freely. Not that this kid needed any help looking good.
"Right. You do that." Glancing down at the magazines Lindsey had purchased, Spike shifted them so he could see all the covers. Time, Newsweek, Gentlemen's Quarterly, Conde Naste Traveler, Men's Health-all fairly predictable reading for a boy of his age and background. But underneath the Newsweek, Spike spied the very tip of the title of another magazine and he started to grin until his cheeks ached.
"Honey Hole?" he said in a loud whisper, eyebrows raised teasingly. "I'm surprised at you, mate! To think you would be seen with such a vulgar publication!!"
Smirking, Lindsey pulled the magazine out from under the others and tossed it in front of Spike so he could read the subheader under the title. Honey Hole, as it turned out, was a bass fishing magazine published in Texas.
"Bugger," Spike groaned. "Would have been great fun yankin' your chain over that."
"I'm sure."
The pretty waitress returned and set a good-sized tumbler of scotch and ice in front of the boy, then she served Spike a well-poured pint of Guinness. The head sat in a perfect inch of cream along the top of the stout. Before she left, she placed two bar menus at the edge of the table in case they wanted something to eat.
"Calamari's great here," Lindsey told him, picking up his glass. "And the crab cakes. Oh," he frowned slightly. "You don't eat, do you? I mean, solids."
Spike rolled his eyes and grabbed one of the menus. "That's another one of Angel's brooding tortures, luv. He doesn't eat because it might give him pleasure and that, apparently, would be disastrous. Me, on the other hand . . ." He squinted at the list of bar snacks on offer. "I love food and I eat it as often as I can. As a matter of fact, after YOU left the office back there, I found myself feeling right peckish."
"Oh, yeah," Lindsey said, that appealing smirk still tugging his full, bitable lips. "You said I smelled like lamb."
"You do," Spike affirmed. "But it wasn't me who said that. It was Captain Forehead. The other night. I was just agreeing with his assessment."
Lindsey blinked, clearly taken aback for a moment. He raised his glass to his lips and took two deep sips of his scotch, then he rattled the ice cubes around thoughtfully. "Angel was talking to you about me?"
"Yeah," the vampire said, still looking down at the menu. He'd already decided what he wanted to munch on, but he was keeping his gaze to himself for the time being. He liked the way the boy squirmed under the knowledge that he'd been discussed by his nemesis-even before he'd reintroduced himself as the Thorn In Angel's Side Du Jour.
"In what context?" Lindsey persisted.
Spike fluttered his lashes playfully. "What do you mean?"
"I mean . . . how did my name come up?" the boy said, not bothering to mask his sudden irritation. "What were you two talking about?"
Setting the menu aside, Spike leaned further forward and again he lowered his voice to a whisper. "We were talking about your naughty little girlfriend, mate. About how she likes to take it like a puppy-dog. And about how the big guy could smell you all over her when he was puttin' to her at the firm's Halloween do. Took him a bit to recall your scent, but when he did, he got . . . very agitated." The vampire winked. "Seems to me that you give me ol' sire a bit of a cramp."
Two deep lines creased the center of Lindsey's smooth brow, but he had nothing to say.
Spike soldiered on. "You DO know about Angel shaggin' Eve at the Halloween party."
"I do," the boy said and his jaw tightened visibly under his flawless cheeks.
Watching those pretty blue eyes carefully, Spike continued, knowing eventually that he would make the kid explode. It was obvious and way too much fun. "Didn't that make you jealous?" he kept on. "I mean, didn't you just want to barge right into that office today and drive a cedar branch through that smug bastard's torso? He had your GIRL. Repeatedly."
Lindsey was very, very still for a long time. He sat there with his fingers wrapped around his half-full glass and just stared at Spike, clearly struggling with something huge on the inside. Then, after an age, he looked down at his drink and swirled the ice cubes again before draining the glass in one big swallow.
"You know what?" the boy said.
Spike raised his eyebrows in anticipation.
"I don't want to talk about that," Lindsey concluded. "Not with you, anyway."
"Right," Spike said, all sympathy and support. "Of course not. You need to save that for couch time with your therapist. Who's your counselor again? Wait, it's Satan, innit? All you Wolfram & Harties have the same insurance plan."
Surprisingly and deliciously, Lindsey McDonald began to chuckle. He seemed to be genuinely amused. Spike took a sip of his Guinness, hoping the boy planned to explain what all the merriment was about. In the meantime, though, he was right lovely when he laughed. He had very nice teeth.
"Satan," Lindsey repeated sarcastically. "Satan's a fuckin' bantamweight compared to the forces I've dealt with."
"Oohhhh," the vampire chided. "Then, I reckon I should be very afraid of you." He sipped his stout again, keeping his eyes on his prickly and interesting companion.
The blue-eyed boy seemed to consider the remark very seriously, then he turned to the bar and motioned for that way too pretty waitress to bring him another drink. When he looked at Spike again, his handsome face was taut with stilted frustration, but the words he chose revealed anything but. "Look, are you planning on staying because I was gonna order some food. I'm starvin'." He reached for a menu and scanned it quickly, just as the waitress came to the table with his second round.
Intrigued by the invitation to remain, Spike offered the boy a cool smile. "I'd love to sample the crab cakes," he said to the waitress.
She nodded politely and told them the calamari was especially nice that day.
"Fine," Lindsey said to her. "We'll have two of each and some fries to share. And another round for my friend."
When she left them again, Spike took a moment to finish off his first pint before he said anything more to the young lawyer. Pushing the empty glass to the edge of the table, he leaned in and only barely muffled a deep belch.
"Pardon," he said a bit sheepishly, more to the posh surroundings than to his present company. "And thanks for the invite, lambchop. Although I'm damned curious as to what your game is. You should be runnin' me off because you think I'm only here to investigate your motives for Angel."
"That's the second time you've called me lambchop," Lindsey pointed out, his down-home accent flaring on the last word. "Don't you care if it bugs me?"
"More fun if it does." Spike grinned playfully, then batted his eyes. "Does it?"
Lindsey swirled the ice cubes in his fresh drink. "No," he said softly, almost flirtatiously. Maybe a bit more than almost. "If I think about it the right way, it's flattering. I love lamb."
"So does Angel," Spike purred, knowing his seductive tone would make the boy look right into his eyes. Sure as shootin', it did. "His mouth was watering when he was telling me about the way you smelled. So obvious he wished he'd had a taste o' you back then . . . when you two were so sodding cranky with each other." Here, he paused for more alluring affect. "Hatred makes the blood nice and savory."
"Really?" Lindsey asked and his sandpapery voice split at the end of the word, dissolving completely into a husk.
"Mmm," Spike concurred, his belly tingling with conquest. "I bet you would have been a right dish back then, the way you were so . . . cross with our great hero of the downtrodden."
The young lawyer set his drink down on the damp cocktail napkin, then he reached into the glass with his fingers and fished out a single ice cube. Spike watched as he brought the cube to his mouth and slipped it in, sucking it noisily for a moment before he pulverized it with his teeth. The whole time, Lindsey stared at the vampire across the table, holding his gaze relentlessly.
"What else does he like?" he said after a long time.
Licking his lips, Spike tried to hide the self-satisfied grin bubbling beneath his lips. He was reeling the kid in, pretty as you please. "You mean . . . who does he like to eat or what does he like having done to him?"
Lindsey almost grinned-almost-but he said nothing. Apparently, the nature of the reply was entirely up to Spike. Fair enough.
"Right," Spike said. "What else does Angel like . . ? Hmmmm . . ." He had to wait while the waitress brought his second pint and he noticed she gave Lindsey a dry napkin, even though she hadn't brought him a new drink yet. Clearly, she was paying a lot of attention to the boy. No surprise there.
When the girl had gone, Spike took a sip of his fresh Guinness before he went on. "Well, back in the day, his tastes were a might different than they are now."
"Obviously," Lindsey said.
"Not that he doesn't still respond to the same TYPE of prey, mind you," Spike said. "But he didn't used to force himself to let it pass by."
"What type is that?"
Locking those pretty blue eyes with his own, Spike said, "he likes plump, young skin. Makes a nice noise when you bite into it. Not to mention how nice those fluffy little hairs feel on the tongue." Boldly, he reached across the table and tracked his fingertip along the silky hairs of Lindsey's left forearm. He grinned when he saw the gooseflesh appear. "If you'd met the old boy back then, I'm betting he would have wanted to turn you."
"Yeah?" Lindsey said, his focus dropping to Spike's stroking finger. "Why's that?"
"Because . . ." the vampire purred. "You're awfully pretty, lambchop. And I'm guessin' your blood is ambrosia. Evil-doers are always such a treat." Spike tickled the hairs on Lindsey's arm out over an interesting silver bracelet at the wrist and down to the tender bit of skin between his thumb and forefinger. There, he ran his fingernail over the tiny lines until he felt the slightest rise in the boy's skin temperature. Lots of nerve endings there. Lindsey sat perfectly still while all this went on, keeping his eyes on Spike's hand. But he didn't utter a single word.
"May I?" Spike said, turning the boy's smooth hand over so he could see the lines in the palm. Truth was, he didn't have the first clue about fortune-telling, but that didn't matter. He wasn't really gonna read the boy's future, anyway. Squinting at the finely drawn map of lines, the vampire sighed in mock concentration. "It says here," he traced the largest line with his fingernail. "That you're going to meet someone irresistible soon . . . someone you fancy terribly." He glanced up at the young man and lifted his eyebrows. "Someone you'd like to shag repeatedly."
Lindsey's yummy lips tilted in a snarky grin. "That's great, but I'm already involved with someone I like to shag repeatedly," he said, as if that made any never mind. "And she's the jealous type."
"Is she, now?" Spike said, feigning interest. "Well, then . . . she must be riddled with guilt about the Halloween party, then."
The boy had no reply, but he also didn't take his hand back. At least not until the waitress came to the table with their food order.
They sat quietly while the girl put the plates down and gave them silverware and cloth napkins. Lindsey asked for another scotch and she smiled sweetly as she went off to do his bidding. Oh, yeah-she was very interested in the blue-eyed human.
Spike's belly rumbled at the smell of the prettily arranged food. Apparently, they were both quite hungry because their forks collided in mid-air as they went for the same golden crab cake. Lindsey chuckled softly, then moved to another plate.
For a moment they ate the tasty snacks in silence, but they kept a wary, interested eye on the other. Spike liked watching Lindsey eat. He had lovely Southern manners while still being a total boy in appetite. After they'd devoured the fish dishes, the fries were the only thing left and they had been presented with a tiny bowl of thin ketchup-like sauce. Lindsey grabbed a few of the fried potatoes and ate them, but he didn't bother with the dip.
"Don't fancy tomato sauce?" Spike asked, reaching for some fries himself.
"I do," Lindsey said. "I just don't want that right now. The sight of it is making me think of something much less appetizing."
"Ooh, luv . . ." Spike said, his voice dropping to his deepest, most come-hither register. "If you've never tried it, you can't know how nice it is." Again, he fluttered his eyelashes. "Trust me."
Lindsey shook his head. "Is that supposed to make me want to suck your blood?"
"No," the vampire replied. "Only to remind you how much I fancy sucking your blood . . . or anythin' else that might need suckin'."
The boy let that comment roll by, very much like Angel often did. "You followed me all the way over here just to tell me you want to kill me? I'd think you'd made that clear back in Angel's office."
Spike scooted around the horseshoe shaped booth until he was nearly sitting in Lindsey's lap. Their thighs touched again and Spike threw his arm over the back of the seat, behind the boy's neck. He didn't touch Lindsey beyond the soft connection of their legs, but he sat very close and held the young man's gaze.
"What, are we gonna make out now?" Lindsey said, his voice low and sultry. His velvety drawl made Spike's nipples itch.
"I've no objection to that," he said, his eyes taking a long hungry look at the boy's plump lips. "I bet you love kissing, don't you?"
"Mm," Lindsey replied. "Sometimes more than sex." He smirked and his eyes glimmered playfully. "And sometimes not. Sometimes, kissing just slows up the works."
Spike nodded his agreement, then shifted gears into rude sarcastic again. "Did you let me old grandmum bite you? Back in the day . . . when she was YOUR girl?"
Lindsey paused for a long, halting moment, then he looked away and finished his drink. "According to the big boss, Darla was never my girl."
"Oh, sod him," Spike said, waiving his hand dismissively. "He just doesn't want anyone else touching his lovers. Always been a bloody pain like that. He creates all this unnecessary drama as a result of his possessiveness. That's why he does it, mind. He's a big drama queen. Besides, that's got fuck all to do with what I asked you, doesn't it?"
Lindsey looked back at him and his eyes went flinty for an instant. "I don't want to talk about Darla with you, either. Let's just leave the girls out of this."
Shifting on the cushion, Spike nestled just a little closer to the boy's warm, delectable body. Sodding Christ, he smelled lovely. "All right, don't get your knickers knotted. We won't talk about the girls. We'll just talk about . . . us."
"Us?" Lindsey said and those two darts creased his smooth brow again. "There's an 'us' now?"
"Well, drinks, a meal, low lighting in a cozy bar. I just assumed shaggin' was next on the agenda." With the hand that was behind Lindsey on the cushion, Spike tickled the boy's hot, silky neck with his fingertips. The contact surprised the lad at first, but clearly it found the right note. His blue eyes drifted closed slightly before he could hide it.
"What if I said I don't do guys?" Lindsey asked, his voice going softer and more scraped.
"Then I'd say, 'there's a first time for everything'." Spike licked his lips and grinned a bit meanly. "Or perhaps you'd prefer to have your first go 'round with a bloke be with Angel."
Lindsey breathed a laugh. "What the fuck is that about, man? Why does everybody think I wanna screw Angel?"
"Dunno," Spike returned. "I do. Your girlfriend does. Just thought it was something in the air at Wolfram & Hart."
Lindsey scowled angrily, then braced himself on the table with his hands and shifted quickly away from Spike, almost dropping off the edge of the booth. In the process, he pressed his left thumb into the blade of the knife he'd been using, creating a short shallow cut.
He winced at first, then held up his hand to examine the new wound. The scent of the fresh blood filled Spike's senses all at once and he began to salivate like mad. Before he even thought of it, he'd grabbed the boy's wrist, pulling him back across the cushion with his vampire strength until Lindsey sat beside him once again. With his fingers wrapped around the boy's arm, Spike could feel his pulse quicken suddenly. Maybe he was scared, maybe he was excited-or maybe it was a yummy mix of both. Either way, Lindsey resisted him, tugging defiantly at Spike's grasp. The more he pulled, the more the blood dripped from his wound until it trickled into the palm of his hand.
"Shhhhh, easy now," Spike cooed, locking Lindsey's eyes again. For a long time they stared at each other, neither one daring to look away. Spike had to grin-the boy was so mutinous, it was wonderful. He absolutely refused to be controlled. Problem was, he was just a human and in his current situation, Lambchop had no control at all.
It had been ages since Spike used his vampire wiles to spellbind a human, but he remembered how to work the mechanism with very little trouble. He held Lindsey's gaze unflinchingly, keeping that wriggling wrist tight in his grasp. He knew he was hurting the young man-that there would soon be ugly bruises in his flesh in the shapes of Spike's fingers. But something inside him just would NOT let this one go. He had to taste that rich crimson elixir or he was going to implode.
"There, there . . ." he purred, eyes drilling hypnotically into Lindsey's pretty baby-blues.
The boy struggled fiercely for another moment then, quite suddenly, he stopped. Spike felt a rush of exhilaration as his dark magic began to work and Lindsey McDonald slipped like a feather under his spell. So easy, this was. Spike had forgotten. Which was probably a good thing.
Lindsey's eyes were wide open but he sat frozen in the booth, his wrist motionless as Spike drew it toward his lips.
"It won't hurt," the vampire whispered. "I just want a taste, lambchop . . . nothing to worry your pretty little head over . . ." He brought Lindsey's wrist forward until that ripe cut in his thumb was within reach. Spike extended his wet tongue and lapped the warm, coppery blood dripping into the boy's hand. Oh, yes . . . oh bloody hell, yes. That blood was the stuff of the wettest possible dreams. Sighing in ecstasy, he couldn't help closing his eyes. Spike heard himself moan as he sucked at the wound and brought the fluid up hot into his mouth. His cock stiffened instantly and all the nerves in his body shimmered with delight. He sucked greedily, knowing he'd be pushed away any second, but he wanted to get as much of that sweet blood into him as possible.
Hot and salty, it slid down his throat and warmed his skin, tickled his pleasure points. Not wanting to miss a drop, Spike took Lindsey's entire thumb into his mouth and sucked it like a baby, wishing with all his might that he could masturbate right then and there. God, it would feel so good to rub his cock right then . . . he just knew he would come so hard, he'd black out.
"Stop . . ." Lindsey gasped and his face was right next to Spike's. Their foreheads touched and the boy's skin felt feverish. "Stop," he said again, his breath pulling in and out of his lungs faster and faster. He'd moved closer on the booth's seat and their thighs were pressed together again. Spike could hear Lindsey's heart hammering, hammering. "Stop, dammit . . . stop . . ."
Lindsey forced Spike's head back with his own and just as that luscious thumb pulled out of his mouth, the boy crushed his lips against Spike's and drove his tongue between them, licking, tasting, savoring his own essence in the vampire's mouth. Spike reached for Lindsey's cock and found the thick organ throbbing and hot, so hard it felt like stone in his jeans. The fabric near the tip was warm and damp and the vampire groaned with desperate lust. The kiss was killing him. It wasn't nearly enough. He had to have this boy-now.
"Come on," Spike murmured. "Into the men's. GO." He tried to push Lindsey out of the booth, but the boy wouldn't budge. Instead, he pulled away from the kiss and pressed his hand into Spike's chest, holding him back.
"No," Lindsey gasped. "I'm not doing that. Just . . ." He struggled to catch his breath. "Just . . . stay where you are . . . Stay back. Don't . . . don't touch me again, man."
Dazed, Spike blinked at him for a moment, then he heaved an enormous petulant sigh. "You have GOT to be joking!" he insisted in a loud whisper. He noticed their very attentive waitress standing near the bar across the room, her face pale and wary. Oh, yeah-she wasn't expecting to see any of THAT, was she? Spike gave her a snotty, what-are-you-lookin'-at glare and she turned away quickly.
"Come on, lambchop," he whispered, trying to move toward Lindsey again. That hand on his chest held strong. "You know you want it. What are you doing with all this denial?"
Lindsey shook his head, chest heaving, trying to regain composure. When he finally looked at Spike, his large blue eyes had gone a few shades darker, making them look like wet indigo marbles. "What I want is for you to leave," he said quietly. "Just get up and leave. Now."
Glancing around the room, Spike noted that they had the attention of all of the other people in the room. The bartender was watching them with guarded interest, just in case they started some new activity that might require him calling security. The few other patrons were making no attempt to act like they weren't looking-they just stared boldly at the two of them with disbelieving eyes.
Sighing to calm himself, Spike backed slowly away from Lindsey and scooted around the other side of the booth. He stood up on wobbly legs and adjusted his erection while looking right at his companion at the table. Offering a right bitchy smirk, the vampire stepped close to the boy one more time, leaning over so he could whisper.
"I'm very disappointed in you, lambchop," he growled. "A better man would have gone with his instinct for pleasure. Your loss, luv." As he turned to stalk out in a huff, he felt Lindsey grab the edge of his coat as though he were trying to stop him. Spike was having none of that. He was angry and horny and wanted to make his grand exit. It wasn't until he'd got back down to the carport that he found the plain white calling card in the inside pocket of his coat.
Lindsey McDonald had slipped Spike his phone number.
The End