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Rating: Adult |
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Xander Harris
- Undercover
by
BmblBee
Part One
"XANDERRRRR? XANDER.! Are you down there?"
"Oh hell!" Xander shifted his ass just slightly on the threadbare, worn sofa. He had just finished watching Judge Joe and was waiting patiently for Judge Alex to hear the case of the wandering beagle who had impregnated an irate neighbor's prize Bulldog.
Grabbing up the remote, he lowered the volumn and for a fleeting moment he almost believed his mother had thought he had gone out and would leave him alone. No such luck.
"Xander! I know you're down there, I heard the television. It'salmost noon and you promised to take me in town. Xandeeerrrr. You know I can't drive with my arm in a cast. Pleeeeease."
Xander cringed. It always made his skin crawl to hear her whine like that. Over the past nineteen years he had developed a
chronic epidermal ripple.
Xander scowled and mumbled. "God Damn it just isn't fair." Between his favorite game shows and the various court and
talk shows, his day was strictly regimented.
One hour flowed into another and there just wasn't a lot of free time for bullshit. Besides, he thought, she wouldn't need him to run her all over hell's green acre if she hadn't gotten drunk - again - and run the car into the Lucky Lube oil shop, breaking her arm.
The very same shop he just happened to be gainfully employed at. Needless to say, Mr. Lube himself naturally blamed Xander for his drunken mother's accident and lack of insurance and fired him on the spot.
So here he was, unemployed, broke, still living in his parents basement and does it get any worse, oh yes, chauffeuring said drunken mother to all her drunken mother appointments.
Xander sighed and threw his head back yelling in the direction of the kitchen at the top of the stairs. "I heard you. Give me five minutes to get dressed and I'll be right up." Xander made no move to rise, but he did shift his ass to settle on the
other cheek.
"It's the honest to God's truth, Judge. Barney here would never go anywhere near his bulldog. He likes his bitches small an less, slobbery."
Xander snickered at the look of outrage on the plaintiff's face at the insult to the dog standing at his side, slobbering.
"I OBJECT! Judge Alex, I have statements from the vet that not only are these unfortunate bastard pups half beagle, but that uncontrolled canine Romeo gave my Babydoll fleas AND worms!"
Xander rolled with laughter when pictures of said bastard pups were put up on the screen. What else could Judge Alex do?
"GUILTY!"
Xander applauded along with the studio audience and eagerly looked forward to the next case. A young college girl charging her ex-boyfriend with stealing twenty pairs of her panties when she threw him out.
"XANDERRRRRR!! Now or I'm going to be late. You know Mr. William is a very busy man and if you're late for an appointment with him he won't do you. I need done, Xander."
Disgusted, Xander aimed the remote like a 38 special, and fired. Judge Alex, the defendant and the plaintiff all disappeared along with the panties in question.
"Hold your damn pants on. Shit, I need done too but ya don't hear me bitching about it do you?" Xander got up and pulled his t-shirt on from yesterday, then sniffing the seat of his knee torn jeans decided they weren't too ripe yet and pulled them on also.
Climbing the steps he found his mother waiting impatiently at the top landing. "Did you say something, Son?"
Xander wrinkled his nose, but made no comment about the smell of alcohol on his mother's breath. "I just asked you where you said we were going? Who the hell is Mr.William?"
Jessica's bloodshot eyes and flushed skin took on a new glow and her whole being bubbled. "Oh, I told you about him. He's the new hair man at the Short and Curlies. The place where I get my hair done every week. Oh, Xander he is just
wonderful. He does such an amazing job on me and he flirts shamelessly. Now, hurry. I can't be late."
Jessica fussed with her flowered shirt and stretch pants that looked like someone had filled the legs of them with cottage cheese. She then licked her pinky fingers and smoothed down her eyebrows and giggled uncontrollably.
Xander was dumbstruck. The only explanation for this behavior had to be that the old man's paycheck had an extra dollar or two in it and she had treated herself to a second bottle of Wild Irish Rose.
Xander shrugged. "Yeah, whatever. I'll drop you off then pick you up later. I might just go, um, look for a job. You know I can't spend all my time sitting around just waiting for my future to come calling. No siree. I'm out there hunting for it. Opportunities don't grow on trees, ya know. Nope, that's me. Opportunity hunting guy."
Jessica beamed and patted his cheek. "Now don't you work too hard. My big brave boy. Whatever happened to that job you had at the oil changing place. Didn't it work out?"
Xander snatched the car keys off the small round table that sat just inside the front door. They weren't hard to find. They sat neatly on top the huge stack of bills, second notices, and threatening collections letters.
Xander rolled his eyes. Life must be lovely in that alcoholic little universe of hers. Wonder if anyone would notice if the population increased by one more. Then he could be drunk, creepy, basement guy rather that just the failure that he was now.
No, that was one step he was not ready to take just yet. But he would keep it on the back burner, just in case.
Xander went out and fired up the old Chevy. He knew he probably should have waited and opened the door for her, but what the fuck, she still had one good arm. Exercise would do her good.
Pulling away from the curb he watched out of the corner of his eye as she continued to fuss. It struck him as odd that she would worry about a few wrinkles in a shirt that had beer stains on the front, but turned his attention back to the road and his own spotted existence.
Xander was floating and he knew it. It wasn't that this was the life he wanted, it was just that he couldn't find a purpose. An interest. Something bigger than himself to focus on. For all those years, graduating from high school had been that purpose. No one, including himself, thought he could actually do it. Bets were made all over town with odds that would have made Vegas gambler's hard. But he did. Somehow, with grades in the D- range, he had squeaked through.
It was a glorious day. He stood tall with all his friends, Willow, Buffy, Jessy. His proud family in the audience. Mom, Dad, Uncle Rory. It was a dream come true. Except.........
No one told him he should wear clothes under the gown. It turned out to be a very windy day.
His mother had insisted on giving him a haircut the night before "to look his best." He ended up gluing his graduation cap to his bald head. It was a very very windy day.
All three relatives arrived late and drunk. Unfortunately, too much beer gives his father terrible gas. There was no end to the damn wind that swirled around the crowd.
It was a very Xander Harris day, but fuck it, he graduated. Sometimes he wished he hadn't. Life was a lot easier then.
Part Two
Xander zipped through traffic effortlessly despite the constant obstructive orange barrels that signaled ongoing
street repairs.
'My tax dollars at work' Xander chuckled at the thought. Truth was, Sunnydale couldn't fill a single pothole on the tax
dollars he had paid.
The thought brought him back to his dilemma of no job, no money, no future. A situation that seemed to go hand in hand with no sex. Funny how hard it was to get some pussy without a decent date and no money meant no date. It was all a vicious circle.
It was an inconvenient situation made even worse by the troubling thought that maybe it wasn't pussy at all that he wanted, but since he didn't seem to have the prospects of either, it didn't appear to be all that urgent to figure out which sex he wanted for...... sex.
When he did try to give it some philosophical consideration, the little voice in the back of his head told him that a pussy was not the tight hole he was interested in and that it lacked a certain bit of hanging flesh that was increasingly popping into his evening fantasies.
Generally, though, he chalked that thought up to the fact that up to this point most of his sexual experiences had been with a male hand, his own, and he definitly enjoyed that, immensely, regularly, and continuously.
It was also convenient in that it could be combined with his other pleasures. After all, he couldn't possibly be the only one
who jacked off to that guy on channel 43 who claims to have whipped his body into shape on his new and improved Bow Flex.
'Shit!' he thought, 'I need a job'.
"HERE! Turn here!" Jessica's screeching voice and waving arm had interrupted his daydreaming and brought him rudely back to the present.
"You almost missed it! I swear, Xander, sometimes I don't know where your brain is."
"Sorry, Mom. You know there's nothing more important to me than your hair appointment. I live for the one day a week that you get to have your grey hairs dyed an unnatural shade of brown and then teased into a three foot high bee hive glued to the top of your head."
Jessica frowned. "Was that sarcasm? Are you saying my grey hair is showing? Cause I gotta tell you, Mr. William is a genius when it comes to covering grey."
Xander just rolled his eyes and whipped the car into a parking space near the front door of the mall. Thanks to his expert driving they had made it with three minutes to spare. Xander waited for his Mother to thank him for his speed and accuracy or at least to get the hell out of the car so he could be gone. He had plans for a couple Big Macs and a coke and he hated to keep them waiting.
"Xanny, my arm hurts. Why don't you walk me in and make sure I get to my appointment then you can leave."
Xander bit his tongue as hard as he could without drawing blood. He badly wanted to ask how an injured arm affected her walking, but he knew the whining answer would only prolong the torture. No, it was easier just to walk her in then cut and run. He could apologize to his meal deal by super sizing it. He was sure to be forgiven.
Xander jumped out and ran around to the passenger side. Now that they were here, his Mother's injuries reached crippling proportions. Moaning and struggling, she cradled her arm as she hoisted herself from the car.
"Ooohhh, Xanny, what would I do without you to care for me?" She stood weakly by the car and waited for her son to help her into the mall.
Xander just rolled his eyes. He had seen this act so many times over the years that it's effect on him had died out long ago. He knew it was a simple mathematical equation. Injury or illness multiplied by the number of potential observers equaled the total incapacitation.
Thank God math was not one of the subjects he nearly failed.
Nope, the goal was still the same. Deposit the grey hair into Mr. William's capable hands and still make his 12:15 appointment with Mr. McCheese and his cohorts The Fry Gang. Hustling her as quickly through the door as possible, he
couldn't wait to pass her off to the wonderful Mr. William.
Xander snorted. He had heard about these ancient fruity, flipping, flaming fags that "do hair" or decorate apartments.
They were NOT what came to mind when he came to hand.
No, he might not be sure which side of the fence he wanted to graze, but he knew that wasn't what he wanted to chew his cud on. Hustling her in the door and up to the counter, Xander noticed two elderly gentlemen waiting patiently in the little sitting area for their blue haired wives.
He snorted. No matter how old he got he would NEVER be that whipped. What was next? Wearing their wife's purse around their neck while shopping? He wanted to shake the old geezers and yell "Come on men! Have some fuckin' pride! Prop up those sagging balls of yours and act like real men again."
"Mrs. Harris! Good morning! Aren't you looking good this morning. Oh, hun, what happened to your arm? You poor thing."
Xander cringed as the bleached blond receptionist bubbled and cooed over his Mother. He could feel her physically decline beside him with each word.
"Thank you Ginny. It was terrible. A horrific car accident I barely survived. Some people should NOT be allowed on the highway. Thank God I have my son here to look after me. Have you met my son? My single, eligible, handsome son, Alexander." Jessica wobbled, obviously too weak to stand much longer.
Ginny gave Xander the required look and glanced away, clearly uninterested. Xander was crushed, NOT. Ginny was totally not his type. Too tall. Too thin. Too old. Too, um, what was the word? Ah yes, female.
"Nice to meet you Alan. So, let's see, Hun, your appointment is with William, right? Good, he should be out in just a minute. I think he snuck out back for a smoke." Ginny giggled and whispered the last part like she and Jessica were involved in a major world saving conspiracy.
That was it.
Xander was through and it was time for the big escape. "O.k., then. So, Mom if you're all settled in here, I'll be on my way and come back for you..............."
Ginny cut him off and waved in the direction of the back door that had just opened. "Oh, here he is now. William, your 12:15 is here."
Jessica enjoyed a sudden and miraculous recovery. Her back straightened and her legs no longer wobbled. Her good arm flew up in the air and she positively glowed as she waved frantically. "William. William, over here. See, I'm right on time."
Then, just as suddenly as his Mother had recovered, Xander went weak. His body locked up, his mouth fell open and his
eyes bugged out comically. His vision went tunnel and could focus on nothing except the amazing God creature that moved slowly toward him, hands out. Xander stepped forward to accept the loving embrace of the most gorgeous, sexual man he had ever seen.
The only thing that saved him from embarrassing himself was his Mother who had shoved him aside and rushed to the greeting hands of the incredible Mr. William.
Part Three
Xander was overwhelmed. It was all he could do to keep from rushing over and jumping the small, very muscular and compact body of the delicious Mr. William.
He watched as the sex god of the styling salon led his Mother away and he could not tear his eyes off him. All internal gender issues and questions were suddenly resolved. Puzzle pieces snapped into place and the world's axis took on just the correct angle.
His brain took immediate inventory. Incredible white blond hair slicked back smoothly. Pierced eyebrow and earlobes.
Ice blue eyes that would look equally good looking down on you or up at you while either fucking or being fucked. He had no real preference. Fuckor or fuckee. Either way as long as Mr. William was the other member of the team, he was in it for the gold medal.
The fact that he had no experience or knowledge of how either position would work only added to his willingness to bend any way William would want. Xander would be his putty. His Silly Putty.
His stare wandered down to the flex and movement of the muscles of William's back as they rippled under the tight black wife beater, then Xander actually whimpered and staggered as he settled on the glorious sight of the round firm butt cheeks when William stopped walking and they CLENCHED!
Before he had time to decide if it was a good idea or not, Xander's feet took over and he darted to catch up to his mother, stopping only when he ran into her causing her to tumble ungracefully into the swiveling chair at Mr. William's station.
"Xander! What the fu...... I mean, goodness dear, I thought you had gone. Go ahead, I'm fine. Run along now." Jessica scooted around and settled comfortably in the chair while waving her good arm in the "get lost" universal hand sign.
William stood, just inches away, still with his back turned to the bickering Harris's while he arranged his combs and cutters. His thoughts had wandered a million miles away to the land of stocks and bonds, rollovers and interest rates.
Xander leaned in and sniffed while pretending to adjust his Mother's plastic apron. It was a heavenly assault on his olfactory senses. Wobbling, Xander's nose sucked in the fragrances of hair spray, mouth wash, after shave, cigarette smoke and deodorant. It was incredible. 'And was that....? Oh, God, yes! Leather!' Quickly he straightened up and stepped back just as William turned around.
His brow wrinkled in confusion as he saw Xander standing between him and his client. "Well, what have we here? Lookin' out for Mum are we? Well, I'm sorry Son but you're going to have to sit over there in the little waitin' room."
Xander blushed and stammered. His mouth forgot how to speak, which considering his brain had stopped functioning, was not surprising. His face wore a stupid grin he couldn't wipe off and the balls of his feet bounced nervously. "Oh yeah, sure." He giggled and stuffed both hands in his pockets afraid if he didn't he may just do something both stupid and probably illegal. "I'll just be over there. Sitting. Waiting. He he." Xander forced himself to walk away hoping to get to a chair before he could embarrass himself any more. If that was possible.
Xander glanced down at the front of his jeans and decided that, yes, it was possible and very probable. He lunged for a chair and threw a large magazine over his lap.
Jessica had watched the whole scene and wondered, not for the first time, if there wasn't something wrong with the boy's brain function. "I'm sorry about that William. I don't know what gets into the boy sometimes. I blame it on his father's side of the family. They had more than one first cousin marriage. It's why we never took the boy to any family reunions. Didn't want him looking for a date. Raising a challenging son like that has been difficult, but I do my best."
William snorted and watched the boy trip and stumble away. He just knew there had to be a house trailer involved in this bunch.
"Not to worry, Love. Got a nephew like that back home. Little slow on the upswing, but good hearted. Now, Pet, what are we going to do with those pesky little grey hairs that have snuck into that lovely hair of yours?"
Jessica giggled and settled in for a wonderful morning of pampering, petting and pleasure at the hands of the master.
"So, you waiting too?"
Xander looked over at the old man sitting beside him.
"Yup."
"Jujabee?"
Xander took the offered jelly candy from the old man's box and settled in for an afternoon of voyerastic heaven.
~*~*~*~*~
For the next three hours Xander sat, mesmerized. He held up a copy of the Christmas craft issue of Woman's Day magazine, looking for all the world like someone who couldn't get enough of the 101 ways to use a pine cone.
In reality, his line of vision skimmed over the top of the facinating information to lock on the man with his Mother.
A man that never stood still. Whether it was circling the chair as he snipped or bending, reaching, and fussing as he colored curled and combed. He was poetry in motion and Xander was suddenly formulating Hallmark cards in his addled brain. He snickered as he realized Billy rhymed with willy.
He sat happily in the curved hard plastic chair, every so often squeezing his legs together letting the feel of the zing
travel through his balls and the half hard chubby that was ever present in the front of his pants.
After the first hour the old man with the jelly candy had left. Xander kept the candy. After the second hour, the other old man had been collected by a woman who turned out to be his mother. Xander wondered if that old geezer was here to William watch too.
By three o'clock Jessica seemed to be as improved as one person could make her. She praised and tipped the marvelous man with the comb and headed for the check out to pay her bill. "Xander? Have you been here the whole time? Why didn't you go get something to eat?"
Xander leaped to his feet and stepped to his Mother's side, hoping the blood had gone down enough in his cock not to be noticable. "You know I was worried about you. What kind of a son would I be if I didn't stay right here in case you needed something. Now, don't forget to make another appointment before you leave."
Reluctantly, Xander took one last look at the vision of magnificance that was William, sighed, and followed his Mother out of the mall and back to the car.
Part Four
The next two days were one constant ongoing wank session that threatened to dehydrate Xander's body
and burn out his brain.
The fantasies all stared the amazing Mr. William in every conceivable position, form, and setting as one flowed
seamlessly into the next.
He was a pizza delivery boy after breakfast, and William a circus performer by lunch. He topped off a quick peanut
butter sandwich with an even quicker trip to an imaginary beach where lifeguard William saved his ass only to then claim it.
By the evening of the second day, Xander was exhausted. Unfortunately he was finding that the more he jerked off to the
thought of his dream lover, the less satisfying it became. On the morning of the third day since his Mother had taken
him to the wonderful world of William, Xander was beginning to realize just why his level of satisfaction was in decline.
He needed more. More William, in whatever form that might be. Like an addiction to an illicit drug, Xander had just had a
little teasing sample of William and by God he wanted MORE!
Lying on his back in the damp basement on the fold out sofa that was his bed, Xander's hand wandered down to his limp,
sore, over abused cock as his brain began formulating a plan. His memory was starting to fade and he needed another peek to refresh it. Just a little lookie see. No harm no foul.
Decision made and goal in mind, Xander jumped to his feet and when he caught a whiff of his unwashed body, headed to the shower. It was exhilarating to have a destination. A purpose. A reason to leave the house.
He was thrilled. He had decided to go to the mall and stroll by the salon. Take a little look in and see the object of his admiration at work. The clip and curl king in action. Xander was bolstered by confidence.
He could do it without ever being seen, and one good look at Williams tight body and amazing face would keep him in material for the next four days till it was time again to assist his poor injured Mother in her weekly trek. The plan was so fucking perfect it purred.
Xander lathered up his body from head to toe paying special attention to his neither regions. He promised himself that he would not take himself in hand again till he had seen...... Him. It would be like saving himself. Being true and faithful to his one and only.
He did, however take a few extra swipes over the tight wrinkled hole that, up to now had held little or no interest for him other than the times he was stupid enough to eat that extra hot salsa they served at the Bronze, and that was a less than romantic experience. Now, however, several of his daydreams featured said puckered porthole and Captain William to seaman (snicker) Harris aboard the love boat of pleasure.
Xander moaned as the hot water sprayed over his already heated body while he fingered himself. Slick with soap he finally allowed just one fingertip to slide inside.
Xander's eyes popped open wide. "Holy Fuck! No way is a cock of any decent size gonna fit in there."
Just to prove his point, Xander slicked up two fingers and worked himself till he was able to slide them in and out on a wave of painful pleasure and burn. The new sensation caused his cock to harden quickly. Grabbing the bar of soap, Xander coated both hands with the thick rich vanilla smelling lather and went to work.
One hand gripped his now hard, throbbing, slightly sore cock, while the other resumed his two finger exploration of the cave of Xander. Lifting one foot to rest on the side of the tub, Xander spread his legs and pushed the two fingers back inside slowly working them, in and out, together and apart.
Closing his eyes, he started rocking to the movement between both hands and whispered. "Yeah, William, do me. Do me good. Poke me in the butt. Oh, yeah, just like that."
Within three minutes and long before the water had gone cool, Xander had cum. Again. Against his promise to keep himself true. He just shrugged. 'Oh well, William will understand when I explain it to him.'
Although it did feel good and certainly added a new wrinkle (ha ha) to the whole masturbatory experience, Xander couldn't help but think something was missing. Maybe he was doing something wrong. After all, he was freshly gay.
Quickly rinsing off and taking a few extra minutes to wash his hands and clean under his fingernails - that was also very unappealing - he jumped from the shower and grabbed up the last clean clothes he had in his room. Dressed, teeth brushed and hair combed, Xander skipped cheerfully up the stairs and snatched the car keys off the pile of still untouched
postal problems.
"Taking the car. Going out. Be back later." Xander paused only a few seconds, hoping for no reply and zipped out staggering and squinting into the blinding sunlight. "Shit, I need to get out more. Maybe William would like to go to the beach or out for a picnic. I'll have to check with him sometime. Of course we won't want to leave the bedroom at first."
He chuckled and jumped into the ratty Chevy, turned the key, and cringed at the expected back fire. It didn't disappoint.
Rolling down the window, Xander threw his arm outside and let the warm afternoon breeze ruffle his hair as he whistled a happy tune. Within minutes he pulled up to the front entrance and slammed the gear shift into "P". Before getting out he took a deep breath. "O.k. Real casual like I'm gonna get out, walk through the mall and just poke my head in like I'm looking for someone. Which, technically, I am. After I get a good look at that wonderful hunk of man meat, I leave. No one will suspect a thing."
Confidence and plan firmly in place. Xander strolled in letting the cold air conditioning shock his sun heated skin.
Rounding the corner he spotted the salon and his feet picked up speed.
Passing by he slowed to a snail's pace as he craned his neck to see. 'Hmmm. No William.'
Turning around he cruised by in the other direction focusing on the station where his sweety worked. Empty. Stopping to evaluate the situation, he decided it was time for more drastic measures. With a U-turn he walked back to the salon
and marched right up to the welcome counter.
Looking up with a smile of NO recognition, Ginny waited and finally asked. "Can I help you? Do you have an appointment?"
Xander locked his face into a winning grin and went for it. "Hi, Ginny, I don't think you remember me but I was here
a couple days ago with my Mother and I think she lost a pair of gloves here. Her appointment was with, um, I believe his name was William? Mind if I ask if he has seen them?"
Ginny's smile faltered at the question of why anyone would be wearing gloves in Southern California, but in the end
decided she really didn't give a fuck. "Sorry, but there are no gloves in the lost and found and today is William's day off. I can ask him when he comes back."
Xander blinked at the unexpected turn of events. It was something he hadn't planned for and it was very unsettling. With no response, Xander backed up and walked away. This would require thought.
On his way back to the Chevy, he stopped at the office supply store and bought a small black notebook and a Bic pen.
Opening it up, he made his first entry.
Thursday - William's day off.
Part Five
The whole house was dark and silent. All but one small corner where a man sat at a desk, head down and concentration
unwavering. The only sound was the tap tap tap of the numbers he punched rapidly on the desk top calculator.
"Spike? Honey, it's nearly one o'clock. Come on to bed." The naked man standing in the doorway scratched his short dark hair and yawned.
Spike never took his eyes off the spread sheets he had laid out in front of him and continued to crunch numbers that simply refused to cooperate. "Yeah, in a minute Wes. I just wanted to run these numbers one more time. I'm missing something on interest with that last CD and I'm thinking rollover."
Wesley slithered up behind him and wrapped his arms around Spike's back, kissing his neck and nibbling his earlobe.
"Come on, Baby I can give you a roll over you can really show some interest in."
Spike kept working, showing no physical response as he answered the man who was plastered to his back. "What's the matter? Your account losing interest in Mr. Gunn?"
Spike felt the body against him stiffen and pull away.
"I told you there was nothing going on. Jesus, Spike, why do you always have to act so suspicious? Gunn and I work together. Period. End of story. And the worst part is, I think you know that. But then that's your pattern isn't it? Whenever you feel like you're getting too involved with someone you find a reason to end it. Isn't that what happened with your last ex, Angel? Well, I'm not your reason and neither is Gunn."
Spike took off his glasses and straightened up his painfully hunched back. Rubbing his hands over his eyes, he sighed.
Wes had no idea what really happened with Angel and he had no intention of discussing old news.
"I'm sorry Wes. You're right. I guess I am just a little phobic when it comes to commitment. It's just that, you know, right now my focus is on getting my finances straight. I'll never be anywhere just working for some two bit chain in a mall. I need my own shop to really make a name for myself. Really be someone."
Wes crouched down to face his boyfriend. "You are someone and you will own your shop, Spike, but just for tonight why not put the dream on the back burner and come to bed. You're wound up tighter than the spring on a cheap pocket watch. Let's see if I can't work out a few of those tight knots in your back and maybe redirect a bit of that blood flow to other areas."
Wes waggled his eyebrows and winked in such an exaggerated manner that Spike had to laugh. Dropping his glasses to the desk, Spike jumped to his feet and, before Wes could object, scooped his boyfriend up, throwing him over his shoulder fireman style, carried him off to the bedroom.
Tumbling to the bed, both men, already naked, began their set routine. Lying on their sides facing each other they would rub and scratch each other's back. Hands would roam, touching, tweaking caressing as they worked their way down. They seldom kissed, Spike's choice. It seemed so much more intimate than the actual sex that it made him twitchy.
The only variety came next when they would either 69, sucking each other to completion, or reach for the lube and, coating cocks and hands, stroke themselves and the other to orgasm. There had only been three times in their months together that Wes had been able to get Spike drunk enough to encourage him to fuck.
The next morning had seen Wes giddy with satisfaction and Spike a regretful hangover along with the feeling he had been deceived. He refused to discuss the matter further.
Ten minutes and it was over. Exhausted, Spike slept, snoring softly. Wes lay wide awake beside him. Watching his lover's peaceful sleeping face broke his heart. Wes wanted commitment. He wanted wild sexual nights and romantic kissy faced days. He wanted companionship, vacations, and adventure.
None of that was going to happen with Spike.
Spike was strength and predictability. Financial sacrifice for future stability. He was reasonable, confident, and restrained. Able to do whatever he needed to to advance his career. Even as far as playing the role of "Mr. William" What scared Wes the most was the fear that Spike was becoming Mr. William.
To Wes, that all added up to boring.
Wes smiled as he watched Spike's innocent baby face while he slept. He knew he wouldn't leave. He loved Spike and a heart in love could always hold out hope for change. If he just stood by his man and proved his love and devotion, Spike's defenses would break down and he would let loose. At just twenty-three he was too damn young to act like an old man.
Wes scowled. He knew what had turned his sweet Spike into the obsessive creature he now was. It was that fucking bastard Angel.
Angel had had the Spike that Wes wanted. Young, carefree, sexually experimental and totally devoted. Then the bastard took Spike's money, broke his heart, and let Spike catch him in a hot tub riding the cock of Rupert Giles, Spike's step-father.
It was all an admission Spike had made one night after too many bottles of wine that Wes didn't think Spike even remembered. Spike didn't remember that during one of those druken nights he had told Wes all about it. Cried over it.
Spike didn't remember but Wes did.
In one short afternoon he had lost everything. His family, his lover, his home and his security. But most importantly, his self confidence.
So, cash broke and heart broke he had ended up living out of his car for two months till he could work double shifts and save enough money for a small rental cottage. It had devastated him.
Wes had met him just months later through an advertisement for a roommate to share expenses. Within two weeks they were also sharing a bed and, at least in Wes's mind, a life together. Wes sighed and scooted down in the bed. He rolled over and pulled the covers up around his chin.
When Spike felt him turn and knew he was no longer facing him, he opened his eyes. Feigning sleep after sex was easier and much preferred to the task of talking, which Wes seemed to want to do endlessly.
Spike knew the relationship was on it's last leg, hell it was probably down to a toe or two, and he also recognized it was mostly his fault. He would hate to see Wes leave, after all a roommate paying half the bills had really helped Spike get back on his feet, but it was time.
Wes wanted what Spike couldn't give.
The funny part was, he knew Wes was fucking his collegue at the college where he worked. He had overheard them flirting on the phone. He had seen the e-mails in Wes's secret e-mail account. He had found the crusted stains on the seats of Wes's boxers when he did the laundry.
Oddly, though, he wasn't all that upset. Truth be told, that was probably his fault too. Wes wanted fucked. He wanted to feel that cock shoved up his ass and pounded into him till he screamed out his orgasm into the pillow.
Yeah, Spike remembered. He wasn't THAT drunk.
It was just too hard. It brought back too many painful memories of a love that ripped him apart and left him unable to ever trust again. No, Spike liked Wes, but he didn't love him and wouldn't miss him when he was gone.
Spike scooted to his side of the bed, curled up, and went to sleep thinking about the bottom line on his interest account.
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