Anatomy of a Seductionby Jainie G & Mistress Ace
Chapter 2: Spoken ForRiley sat alone at the bar, nursing a B&B as he watched the regular crowd trickle in. He had rapidly become one of them, ever since *that night*. It had been four days since his walk on the wild side in Spike's crypt and he'd taken up drinking to kill the craving for a repeat performance.
The first morning had been hell, he'd woken up in a puddle of cold semen and recoiled from it in horror. He couldn't wash himself enough that day, not even the three showers before he left for class and nor four more when he got home helped to alleviate the feeling that he was…*tainted*.
He'd avoided that particular cemetery like the plague, only going in there when Buffy needed back-up and breathing a sigh of relief once that particular part of her Sunnydale sweep was over. And to top it all off, when she'd offered to spend the night with him last night, he'd refused. Riley tried to convince himself that he was too tired, that he had an early class but the truth of the matter was he felt guilty for what he'd done...
Spike, on the other hand, went about his nightly routine as though nothing had happened. He still pestered the Scoobies every chance he got, of course, noticing immediately that the former marine was acting strangely. He only ever saw the boy on his few and far between sweeps with the Scoobies, now, and there had been no subsequent late-night fisticuffs parties.
The vampire felt sure that Riley would have come back the next evening, armed with a stake, despite his oaths to the contrary. But the much larger man seemed most unwilling to even remain in the same room -- hell, the same block or dozen blocks -- with Spike present.
If Spike attempted to make eye contact with the boy, he'd avert his eyes, if the vampire came within mere feet of him, Riley would make for the other side of the room as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. Very odd behaviour indeed for the overgrown hall monitor, not that it was any skin off of Spike's nose, he was glad for the respite from the nightly rounds of intimidation and manly swaggering that the two of them had been known to engage in.
Riley paid for another round as he considered how to spend the rest of his evening. He could go over to Giles' and attend the usual nightly Scooby meeting, he could strike out on his own and do a solo sweep, or he could just go home. The last option had the least appeal because he knew if he took that route, he'd just end up in his bed with his fingers pressed against the healing scar on his neck and his hand pumping his cock...just like he'd done for the last four nights running.
That avenue was getting him nowhere fast, he really needed to seek professional help...
---
Spike tugged on his duster and hoofed it to Willy's to purchase more whiskey. Taking the piss out of the Scoobies only provided him with so much entertainment and there were only a few programs on the telly he bothered to watch even remotely regularly. So, to fill those many other empty hours, he drank, jerked-off and plotted all the grand schemes he would one day set into motion, once he was free of the tiny bit of plastic that had robbed him of the greatest passions of his life: blood and violence.
Blood and violence, the two things that had made his unlife worthwhile.
The latter often begot the former and the blood had sustained him while the violence had enlivened him. Oh, how he'd missed it. Thinking about that night, with the boy crushed against him, all that rich blood trickling down his gullet, Spike felt the loss more keenly than he had since he'd first discovered the chip's existence.
---
The ex-marine grimaced as he took a large swallow of his fresh drink. It burned all the way down, causing his eyes to water so much that he almost didn't notice the rather pretty girl who took a seat on the stool next to him. She murmured something that he didn't catch and he turned his head toward her.
"Did you say something, miss?" Riley noted her lovely features, soft curves and the languid movements of her hands, an alluring package overall, but as with most of the denizens of Willy's Place, her beauty hid a deadly nature. A vampire, he knew her by sight, had seen her working the crowd before but she'd always avoided him……until now.
"I said, you shouldn't be drinking alone..." Her eyes wandered over him, liking what she saw. As he turned back toward the bartender to order her another drink, she spotted the marks on his neck. A very predatory smile crossed her features and she reached over to touch his hand, laughing softly. Another willing feeder, a big strong one...he looked like more than just a meal... *this one could be a companion.*
---
Spike shouldered the door to Willy's open, digging into his duster pocket for some cash. Hmm. Running a bit short. Ahh, well, just enough for two more bottles. He'd been on the last one of the couple he'd bought, that night, but wouldn't you just know it, that sodding soldier just had to turn up and break it. Some people just didn't have any respect whatsoever for another man's booze.
The blond slapped a couple of bills onto the bar and fished around in his pocket for his cigarettes. As he lit one, he pounded on the bar to get Willy's attention. "Oi! Some bloody service over here, if you please, or don't you want my money?"
Spike puffed on his smoke impatiently as Willy scurried over. He nodded to the bills he'd placed on the bar. "Whiskey. Make it quick." Willy nodded, snatched the money off of the bar and hurried off to get Spike's usual for him.
---
Riley leaned over to catch what the girl was saying and almost jumped out of his chair when he felt her cool lips brush his ear. He drew back, clearly startled at her forward behaviour and she pursued him, her hand on his shoulder, her mouth hovering just over the bite on his neck.
This was so not happening. She was pretty, he admitted that, but she wasn't Buffy and he wasn't going to be a meal ticket. Not again. "Hey...you wanna back off? I'm not lookin' for anything here."
---
Spike caught a flurry of movement in his peripheral vision and turned his head in the direction of it, spying the former soldier getting up close and cuddly with a lady vamp. His lips curled around the filter of the cigarette in a sardonic smile. *This was just too good.*
---
The vampiress' eyes were saffron-tinted as she licked her lips, lightly touching his collar and pressing on the bite mark with one finger. That simple touch sent an electric shock through Riley, setting his heart to racing. "Looks like you've been tasted....I was just wondering if you were looking for a little more?" Her hand was under the bar, finding Riley's knee and sliding up along the inside of his thigh. "There are other places you could take the bite than your neck...if you're afraid of it being noticed by anyone."
Riley bit back his first reply which, to his dismay and shame, would have been a resounding yes. What she was proposing sounded far too tempting. He really wanted to find out if his reaction to her bite would be the same as he'd with Spike's. Then Riley could blame the attraction, the overwhelming desire he felt on the bite….and not on something else.
But he was with Buffy, he loved Buffy and this...this was just wrong.
He rose from his seat, disentangling himself from her grasp as gracefully as he could, then hesitated, appearing to reconsider her offer. A moment later, Riley leaned over, his warm lips brushing her ear in a mimicry of a caress. The ex-commando kept his voice soft and low, adding a note of shyness as bait. "Meet me in the alley...."
---
Spike eased his way down the bar in the direction of the former soldier and the girly vamp. She couldn't be any more than ten or fifteen years old, judging by the smell of her. Still an amateur. Fingertips gliding over the nicked and dented surface of the bar as he walked, cigarette pinched between his teeth, he could hear the woman's graceless invitation and Riley's acceptance. So, the boy wanted more, did he?
Plucking the cigarette from between his lips as he neared the two, Spike reached around the girl and tapped it, dropping the ashes from the end into her drink, delighting in the sound of the tiny embers sizzling in the glass. He stepped back a pace and did his best 'British gentlemens' gentleman' act. "Oh, dear, I'm so sorry! I thought that was an ashtray! Won't you please forgive me?"
The girl spun toward him, almost snarling before she realized who had just polluted her drink and interrupted her hunt. She faltered immediately, her fully saffron gaze dropping in utter subservience, "M-master S-spike..."
Riley narrowed his eyes, his hand in his pocket, clutching the stake that he'd been planning to use on the vampiress. He was fascinated by her quick shift from avid huntress to fawning sycophant in two seconds flat. Maybe there was more to old Hostile 17 than met the eye.
Spike lifted the cigarette to his mouth for one more long drag before dropping the butt into the girl's glass. Favouring her and Riley both with a humourless smile, he planted both hands on his hips, dropping into a casual stance up against the bar. "Well... isn't this just the very portrait of cosy."
Her eyes widened even more as she glanced from her intended victim to the sleek and very dangerous blond leaning against the bar. She swallowed nervously, she knew she'd recognized those fang marks from somewhere. This was not her night, first a near dusting with the slayer and now she'd been caught poaching in the big bad's territory….the gorgeous man by her side was obviously Master Spike's newest toy.
Riley placed a hand on the girl's trembling shoulder, brushing her hair away in a seemingly tender gesture as he glared at Spike. His body was betraying him, the instant he'd heard that richly accented voice he'd gotten hard, so hard he was in serious pain from it. But he wasn't going to let Spike know that, let him think he'd interrupted a tryst, maybe the arrogant blond would leave. "Gotta a problem with that?
Spike lit another cigarette, a veil of smoke surrounding his sharply hewn features. "Matter of fact, I do." Fixing a citrine-laced gaze on the girl, he added, "Take a powder, darlin'... this one's already spoken for." His low, husky tones made it altogether too clear that he would accept no argument of any kind from her, let alone a refusal.
With a quick bob of her head in acknowledgement of Spike's superior status in the vampiric community, the girl scrambled out of her seat. She was gone before her intended victim could make a single murmur of protest, moving so fast she seemed to vanish into thin air.
Riley glared at Spike, his hand clenching even more tightly around his hidden stake. He briefly considered following the girl but maybe he would just dust this annoying bastard instead. "What the hell did you mean by spoken for, Spike?....Is your name tattooed on my ass?"
Spike sneered, did his utmost not to laugh right in the boy's face. "No, but I'd wager the Slayer's is," he tipped his head to the side, regarding the soldier with an amused quirk to his brow. "Or have you forgotten about her already? And speakin' of... she give you time off for good behaviour or what?"
The big man flushed at the mention of Buffy and glanced down at his watch. Riley could use her as an excuse, a convenient out so he could escape with a modicum of his dignity intact. Considering just how much his body was responding to Spike, he needed a way out of this situation and he needed it now.
"I have to meet her at Giles'....like five minutes ago...*Gotta run*..."He knew it was a lame-ass excuse, knew that Spike would see through it in one second flat but he had to get away from him. If he didn't, he'd be in serious trouble. Every fibre of his body was screaming for his touch, the mark on his throat was throbbing in time to the heavy pulse of his achingly hard cock. He
had to get away, he had to run away....as far and as fast as he could.Willy set the two bottles of whiskey on the bar beside Spike's elbow. The vampire nodded his thanks and picked up both bottles, tucking the first one into the deep pocket of his duster. He held the other one up, gazing intently at the young man who looked as though he was ready to bolt at any moment.
Oh, this one was so much fun to torment, even better that that git, Harris. Plus he smelled so damned good, the boy's blood was calling to Spike, his blood and that unmistakable scent of sexual arousal. How delightful…..The slayer's boy-toy might as well just give it up now, there was no possible way Spike was going to let him get away, not easily and certainly not before he got another taste of him.
**Keep the invitation light, don't tip your hand too quickly. A friendly drink between sworn enemies, that should get his interest. By the smell of him, it wouldn't take much to get him drunk.** Spike raised that scarred eyebrow, affecting his most nonchalant attitude even though he was deadly serious about getting the boy back to his crypt.
His fangs ached at the thought of slicing once more through that warm skin and tasting all the richness that lay beneath its surface. "Wouldn't care to join me for a nip by any chance, wouldja? Y'know what the man says: not good to drink alone."
"What part of 'I have to meet Buffy' did you not understand, Spike?" Riley shrugged his jacket on, not meeting the vampire's lambent gaze. If he looked at him again, he would be lost.
Spike arched both brows in a vague mimicry of surprise as he tucked the second bottle into his other pocket. "Didn't sound much like 'I have to meet the Slayer' to me. Sounded more like, 'I'm lookin' for whatever excuse I can to get out of here so Spike doesn't tattle on me to the Slayer.'" His smile was genuinely devilish as he added the one thing he just knew would get Captain Carboard's complete and undivided interest. "And I will, y'know."
Riley Finn snapped to attention at the not subtle menace in those words, his eyes raised and locked with Spike's. *The vamp had just signed his death warrant.* He forced a smile, one that used his mouth but not his eyes. "I guess I could manage one drink. You want it here or...." Riley jerked his head toward the door.
Spike returned the former soldier's wan smile as he turned and made his way to the door, not bothering to see if Riley would follow, yet knowing all the while that he would. This one was hooked but good.
And follow he did, Riley paced silently behind Spike with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. There was another stake there, he'd taken to carrying several of them once he'd discovered just how effective they were at taking out the enemy. So much for modern technology, a tazer barely slowed a vamp down, but a sharpened piece of wood always did the trick.
The two of them walked along the quiet streets, neither of them looking at the other or even exchanging a single word. Every time Riley thought the street was empty and that he could dust the guy, a car would drive by or someone would be out walking their dog. He didn't have a chance to put his plan in action until they were just outside the cemetery.
And at that point, he might just as well do it at Spike's crypt. At least there he wouldn't be leaving any more of a mess than was already lying around. Spike was far from the neatest vampire in the world, no one would notice another pile of dust in that place.
Spike manoeuvred his cigarette butt between his thumb and middle finger, aimed it and flicked it away, sending it sailing off into the distance as he pushed open the heavy entry gates to his cemetery. Throwing Riley a cursory glance over his shoulder, he marched in the direction of his crypt, the whiskey bottles jingling against the various other items hidden in his pockets.
The boy would have stakes, he knew. None of the Scoobies went anywhere without at least one hidden on them somewhere. And Riley was visibly anxious, although he put forth a concerted effort to behave as casually as possible. The boy had something wooden and pointy up his sleeve, of that much he was sure. The question was, would the desire for the bite outweigh all other considerations?
With a sigh and a shrug, Riley followed Spike all the way back to his crypt, weaving in and out of headstones. Funny how much time he spent in cemeteries now, ever since he accepted the Sunnydale assignment, Riley Finn spent most of his night time hours in the cities of the dead. He knew this particular one like the back of his hand.
They arrived at that stone edifice without even the hint of a rising fledge. For some reason, this cemetery tended to be rather quiet. Might be because Spike had a habit of cleaning out the competition. Buffy had told him about the times she caught the blond vampire dusting his own kind, she'd said the guy did it for
entertainment, that one of the side-effects of being chipped meant Spike was bored.Riley could understand that, once you'd experienced the adrenaline high involved in mortal combat, it was a hard addiction to give up. That was part of his problem too, he missed the Initiative, missed being in charge, missed being the one responsible for neutralizing the HST threat.
Now he was just his girlfriend's backup, no more than a slightly better trained, bigger version of Xander Harris… It seemed that the only difference between the two of them to Buffy was Riley could do stealth plus he had the advantage of actually sharing her bed instead of just dreaming about it. And Riley knew Xander still dreamed about it; who wouldn't, she was gorgeous and smart and funny….and still deeply in love with someone else….someone who was not him.
But despite that, despite that fact that Riley suspected that Buffy still loved Angel, he wanted to keep what little he had of her. And Spike was a threat to that, the vamp might not tell her about the bite but he certainly would tell her about the rest of it, he'd practically said as much. It would probably give the sick undead bastard a thrill to watch her sweet little face crumple when he told her about her boyfriend pinning him up against a wall of his crypt and doing everything but actually fucking him there.
To spare her that pain, to keep her from learning about his moment of weakness, Riley was ready, willing and able to take Spike out. It wouldn't take all that much to do it. One step inside those stone walls, one quick plunge of the stake and Riley Finn would get this monkey off his back. Then maybe he could sleep at night….
---
As they reached the crypt, just for fun and to throw his companion off his game, Spike's leg swept out and he kicked the front door open. It flew back, connecting with the inside wall with a satisfying, resounding bang. Smirking, he capered down the few steps leading into the crypt and crossed over to his chair. Withdrawing a bottle from his left pocket and the other from his right, he tossed the second bottle to Riley as he gracefully shed his duster and folded it over the back of the overstuffed armchair.
The ex-marine let go of the stake and caught the bottle solely by reflex. Spike's action had caught him totally off-guard and he went on instinct alone. That instinct told him being hit by a bottle of booze or having it shatter at his feet would not help his situation. Especially since if he hadn't caught it, it probably would have hit the rather painful erection that was making his life a living hell.
Riley Finn hadn't really planned on drinking with the bleached blond, hadn't planned on anything other than dusting him. But since he had the bottle in his hand, what harm was there in taking one drink? He could kill the vamp later...
Spike twisted the cap off of the bottle and took a deep drink as he dropped into his seat, swinging one leg up over the arm of his chair. With a contented murmur, the blond lifted the bottle to his lips once more, head coming to rest on the back of the chair as he drank. Not blood and certainly nowhere near the quality of the stuff his soddin' bastard of a sire had always insisted on, but it would do the trick.
Sitting heavily down on the edge of a marble bench, Riley twisted off the cap of his bottle. The ex marine took a swig off the top and almost choked on the harsh bite of the whisky. He'd tasted better than this, in fact Riley was certain he'd never had worse. "What is this stuff, Spike? Lighter fluid?"
Spike lowered his own bottle, head lolling back and forth on the cushion as he regarded Riley. "It's cheap," he said simply with a dry chuckle.
Riley took another pull off the bottle, feeling a little light-headed as the whisky burned through his system. He'd already had more than a few at Willy's and now he was only a swallow or two away from being drunk. And alcohol always put him in a talking mode, might as well get as much information as he could before there would be no words said between them. "That it is....What the hell was that all about back at Willy's? What did that girl mean by calling you 'Master Spike'?"
He knew this was dangerous, that he should just dust and go....After all, the vampire was a loose cannon. All he had to do was open his mouth to Buffy and Riley Finn's little house of cards would come tumbling down. Had it just been an experiment, had it not gone any further than just the bite, he might have been able to skate out of this one. But Riley knew that Spike knew he'd been turned on by the experience.
Hell, how could the guy have missed it? He'd practically dry-humped him up against the wall four nights ago. There was just no way that Spike could be that *fucking* dense....
Spike's shoulder met his ear in a lazy half-shrug. "'S what I am. Nearly all Masters all have their own turf. You'll hardly ever see more than one in a town this size. Masters have first pickin's of food, lovers, residence even. When you're a Master, nobody fucks with you." He spoke these last words fondly. How he missed the bad ol' days.
Gesturing vaguely with his bottle, Spike continued. It was actually fun talking to the boy, playing with him…it had been awhile since he'd played with his food. "Say, fr'instance, a fledge and a Master both got their eyes on the same mark.... Fledge has to back off automatically, or the Master can stake him for
disobedience and disrespecting an elder. Masters got...seniority, like."Riley set the bottle aside, knowing that he shouldn't drink anymore. As it was the room was tilting a little to one side. "A mark? Is that what I was to her?" He tried to rise to his feet but couldn't so instead he closed his eyes, willing the place to stop spinning. When was the last time he'd eaten anything? He couldn't remember....Maybe a jelly doughnut two days ago or was it three?
Spike arched an eyebrow, noting the former soldier was no longer exactly steady on his pins. The plan was working like a charm. He snorted, concentrating on the mouth of the bottle sitting perched on his chest. "Well, what did you think, boy? She wanted to lug your big ass all the way to Vegas to tie the knot?"
Trying to regain a little control over his reeling senses, Riley visibly shook himself. The bench he was sitting on suddenly looked very inviting, maybe he could just lie down for a minute. Just long enough to gather his wits about him. "Thought I was a meal ticket....is that what a mark is?"
Gripping his bottle with his thumb and three fingers, Spike jabbed his index finger in Riley's direction, nodding. "Got it in one. Maybe you're not so thick, after all." Goading Riley could very well become a favourite pastime for him, much more fun than the Slayer or her rag-tag band of goody-good guys. Now if they could just get past the boy's desire to stake him, the two of them would get along famously.
"Okay...and since you're a master...she backed off. Thought you said I was spoken for...." Riley reached up to touch the holes on his neck and couldn't manage to stifle the moan that rose from deep within him. He shifted in his seat and finally gave into the urge to lie down. "Does this....." He touched the mark again and moaned once more. "Does *this* mean I'm 'spoken' for?"
Lips curling slowly, Spike nodded. "Matter of fact, it does." He regarded his companion from underneath half-lidded eyes, admiring what he saw. This was a bright boy, a very bright boy… god only knows why he'd hooked up with the Summers bint. **'Specially since she's still head over it for Angel and isn't that the funniest thing? The greatest slayer of all time in love with that poncey ensouled version of my soddin' sire, the dozy mare has no idea what kinda fire she'd been playin' with there. Had Angelus been sane when he regained control of his body three years ago, they'd still be findin' bits of her scattered about across six different time zones.**
Riley knew he should be upset by Spike's claim of ownership but instead he found it fascinating. Might as well garner whatever information he could before he dusted him. Working for the Initiative hadn't afforded him the time to study their demonic subjects in depth and Riley liked examining what made things tick. "So that means what exactly?.....I belong to you?"
The young man rolled over onto his side so he could look at the lounging vampire, he was feeling no concern about being in such a vulnerable position with his enemy so close at hand. Spike had a chip, he was safe, the vamp couldn't kill him, couldn't even hurt him if he didn't ask for it. **Wonder if I can do my master's thesis on the social structure of vampires?**
Spike paused for a moment before answering. Watching the mortal as he tried to stifle his moans and had all but writhed in his seat had delighted him to no end. He took yet another last swig of his whiskey before setting the bottle on the floor beside the chair and folding his hands behind his head. "Somethin' like that, yeah."
"So what does belonging to you mean? I'm curious again, Spike...." Riley propped his head up on one hand, his other hand resting far too casually on his outer thigh. That hand slid further down as he rolled a little more toward the vampire, it came to a stop right over his erection, hiding it from view. "Fill me in..."
The vampire licked his lips slowly and readjusted his own position, allowing his head to drop back on the opposite arm of the chair as he laced his hands together on his firm abdomen. "Means you do what I say, when I say it, without question. I call, you come runnin' right quick, or you'll be wishin' you had done. Loyalty to me, at all times."
Cocking his head to one side, Spike's expression was almost tender as he looked at the former soldier. Yeah, he would do, would do right nicely. Big, strong, plenty of rich, thick blood and very easy of the eyes. And as already proven, smart too, which would be a blessed relief after months of nothing to shag but that brainless twit, Harmony. "Belonging to me means I look after you, take care of you, that I'm there when you need me and you do the same for me."
"And I do this because?.....Sorry, not really grasping the reasoning behind this." Riley shook his head again, trying to clear away at least a few of the cobwebs. The booze was really talking to him, colouring his usually sound judgement. What Spike was saying didn't sound good...or it sounded too good. He really couldn't decide which it was at the moment....
The young man swung his legs over the edge of the marble bench and sat up. The room was a little steadier, maybe he could stand now. If he could stand, he could dust the guy and get this strange interview over with.
"Because every time you let me drink from you, you're puttin' your life in my hands." Spike lifted both hands, then, cupping them out in front of him, as though to provide a visual aide in conjunction with his words. His gaze was keen, suddenly predatory as he bared his teeth in a semblance of a smile, a smile that finally set off Riley's warning bells. "All those things you do, you do out of gratitude."
"It's not like I'm planning on letting you have another taste, Spike....That was a one shot deal." Adrenaline, pure and simple was pumping through his veins. Chip or no chip, they were getting into very dangerous territory here, especially since his body was aching for the bite. The ex-marine was on his feet now, one big hand fumbling for the stake in his jacket pocket. "I'm not letting you get your fangs in me again, got it?"
"Used to be an honour of the highest order, being marked. Back in the day, there were so few of us and so many humans, feedin' was a dodgy proposition. Every so often though, a vamp would meet a human who wanted it." Ignoring the boy's agitation, Spike let his eyes slip closed as he shifted in his seat.
The vampire was trying to get more comfortable, letting himself be swept away by the richness of the history that he'd learned at his sire's knee. "So they'd team up, like. Almost like a marriage... closer. Bound by blood and trust. The vampire could feed without the threat of gettin' himself dusted and the human could get his fix without any threat of being drained. It was good back then."
Now the adrenaline was mixed with outright fury, Riley was not going to go down that road. It was just one bite, nothing more. "That was then...this is now. I'm not bound to you, Spike." Riley stalked over to the chair and glared down at the bemused vampire. "*Hell, I can't even stand the sight of you...*"
Spike opened his eyes slowly and reached out, placing his left hand on the outside of Riley's thigh, silently admiring the firm muscle beneath his hand. "The only thing you can't stand is what I make you feel. But that's all the excuse you need to stake me, though... isn't it?" His eyes travelled upwards along the tall frame, until at last meeting Riley's hard stare.
Riley felt his body betray him again, there was no way that Spike hadn't felt his muscles twitch when he touched him. He narrowed his eyes, tightened his jaw and reached for the front of Spike's shirt. His large hand wrapped itself in the soft cotton and he leaned over the smaller man. "It's not like I need an excuse....You already gave me that when you mentioned *her* name..."
The game was almost done, and the boy had responded just as predicted, in his fury and shock, Riley had left the stake still in his pocket. It was now time for the coup de grace. Putting his vampiric stealth and speed to work, Spike's hands shot out to grasp the front of Riley's jacket, pulling him down and off balance.
When the ex soldier's mouth parted in surprise at his sudden action, Spike fastened his lips onto the other man's, sealing them together in a kiss.