Eyefucks Leading to Bow-legged and Cross-eyed States
eyezrthewindows
NC-17 Angel/Spike, implied Spike/Faith
Spike is dragged to a club opening by Faith, eyefucks a stranger, then discovers being there doesn't suck as much as he thought it would despite the shitty American beer.
Beta’d by Kat B (toobusy2write)
Notes: toobusy2write got this early and liked it, then forgot about it as the weeks passed, I then edited the shit out of it, sent it back to her and she got her birthday pressie twice! B/c, you know, the forgetting thing, plus, the editing the shit out of it thing b/c it's all new and stuff. Happy birthday, Kat! *humps*
Spike bopped his head along absently with the techno dance mix blasting over the speakers as he surveyed the flailing crowd. One hand tapped a rhythm on his jean-clad thigh and the other held onto the sweating glass of cheap beer in front of him.
Faith was out there somewhere in that wildly gyrating sea of people but he didn't see her. Didn't really look for her, actually, because he wasn't there with her so much as just there with her. She was trawling for a good fuck, so she said, and wanted him along so she wouldn't be alone doing it.
He hadn't wanted to come but she'd been extra persuasive tonight and somehow he'd been unable to resist temptation. The beer was...wet, anyway, which was all he could say for it, and several couples were nearly fucking in discreet corners, which made for a nice bit of entertainment for those like Spike who were here alone.
So, here he was in Club Angel. It was the hottest new club in LA and it seemed like everyone was here. It was packed wall to wall with laughing, drunken people making with the chitchat so they could sneak off somewhere and get laid or make Hollywood connections with several celebrities that had turned up in the posh balcony above and make it big in 'the biz'.
He had no idea how Faith had managed to finagle an invite to such a prestigious opening and he probably didn't want to know what she'd done to get it. Was fun people watching, at any rate.
It was hot in here. He could almost see the heat waves emanating from dancing bodies. It made him feel stifled and unable to breathe. So, he had to drink some of his beer. And sweat some more so his shirt would stick uncomfortably to his skin.
Had to be a health or fire code violation somewhere but Spike probably shouldn't be dwelling on that so much as ordering another drink before his beer completely disappeared.
Perspiration was wet and slick on his skin beneath his clothes. His thighs felt hot and sticky and his dick was half hard because of it; his body equated hot and sweaty with getting naked and orgasmic. It was hard to fight his natural impulses to just go out and find a body to fuck, or even just have a wank in the over-flowing loo.
He seriously considered it for a moment then decided it was too hot for it. At least with all these people around. He'd have a toss in the privacy of his own well air conditioned apartment later to the memory of pretty, sweating bodies writhing and touching.
He moistened his upper lip, glanced towards the bar and met the intent, dark gaze of someone who appeared to have been watching Spike for a long time.
The man didn't look away even when Spike met his stare. He merely continued sipping his glass of amber liquid and appraised Spike more openly. If that was possible.
Spike felt naked under the heated perusal.
Spike swallowed, almost feeling the gaze searing through his clothing. He stretched and sprawled on his side of the booth he'd claimed -- having fought hard to get -- spreading his legs in unconscious invitation.
His skin prickled, felt too tight. He knew that feeling well.
Desire.
Tall, dark and brooding narrowed his gaze, called to the bartender and stood up with a bottle of something before starting towards Spike.
Spike took a breath and finished off his crappy American beer without even a grimace. He sat up straight as the man stopped at the edge of the table. His cock throbbed between his legs.
"Can I sit?"
Spike affected an...unaffected demeanor and smirked. "I don't know, mate, can you?"
Dark eyes rolled but a grin tugged at sensual lips Spike wouldn't mind licking. And then the man sat without being asked. Not that Spike minded, at all.
In what looked like an old habit, the man smoothed his well-gelled hair without mussing it and asked, "Drink?"
"Fucking yes," Spike breathed, pushing his glass towards the stranger with a nudging finger.
The man's eyes were dark and calculating, assessing and...practically stripping Spike naked.
Spike's own eyes explored the stranger's tight body enjoying the way he filled out those stylish, dark clothes.
Glasses were filled, drinks were drunk and conversation...wasn't had but a lot of staring was involved.
Spike didn't feel there needed to be a whole lot of conversation, actually. He could read the man's intentions clearly and he didn't honestly have any arguments with what he was seeing.
"Spike! Who's your tall, dark and hot-assed friend?" Faith bounced up and nearly sat in Spike's lap.
Spike jumped, nearly spilled his really good Scotch and scowled at her. "Faith, what the hell? Get off me!"
Faith giggled and planted a big, wet kiss on Spike's neck as she plopped down on the bench seat a little further away.
A dark expression crossed Spike's potential fuck's face.
Spike wiped his wet neck with a curl of his lips and rolled his eyes as Faith kept talking. She was drunk and loose and...well, horny didn't quite cover what she was at the moment. She was humming with arousal.
Her hands wouldn't keep to themselves and he couldn't stop them. It was how she always was when she had a few too many.
Didn't help that they'd had a thing in the past. Whenever they were bored or lonely they'd fuck. It was fun, no nonsense and no strings.
Fuck buddies were the best invention ever, in Spike's opinion.
Though, at the moment, he wasn't liking Faith very much because she was pretty much cockblocking him.
"What do you want, Faith?"
She pouted and bounced, breasts jiggling over her halter in a pretty impressive way that Spike couldn't help but stare at. "I so need to get laid. Thought I had a potential but turned out the dickhead had a girl and she wasn't too impressed with him after he got done dancing with me. He got hard and I was getting in a little touchy touch and...well. He had to go after her after she got all huffy and shit."
"Dancing? Is that what you call it these days?" Spike murmured, teasing.
"Got you raring to go a time or fifteen, didn't it?" Faith punched him in the shoulder and he exaggerated the hurt it caused because men did that when it actually did hurt more than it should have and they didn't want anyone to notice.
"Have you learned nothing as long as you've known me? Dancing's good foreplay, Will."
Spike scowled at her. "Sod off."
Faith suddenly turned towards Spike's quiet drinking mate and leaned across the table. Black eyes dipped to her impressive cleavage and she grinned. "So, you gonna fuck the stick out of Will's ass or what? Guy needs a good screw, yo. How long's it been since you shot your load with someone that wasn't you? Or me?"
Spike sputtered and opened his mouth but the man across the table finally spoke.
Lips curved and dark eyes glittered. Long, elegant fingers rolled his glass. "Was thinking about it, actually. Not the stick thing, the fucking thing because I don't really know him all that well. Yet."
Spike swallowed, throat drying. He picked up his tumbler and downed the rest of its contents. "Faith, go away. Now."
Her eyes widened and she glanced from Spike to the other man and back. "Oh, dudes, my bad! I was just teasing. Didn't know there was something going on here. Sorry about the interruption. I'll just leave ya to it and...go find my someone to fuck. Don't come back till you're walkin' bow-legged and lookin' cross-eyed, Will. Have fun, boys!"
She hopped up, grinned and waved as she waded back into the crowd and began to grind against the first person she found, who happened to be a hot little redhead in an almost non-existent tube top and a rag masquerading as a skirt. A leather-clad man soon sidled up and began writhing against her backside.
Spike couldn't help but take the opportunity to ogle Faith and her dance partners, who were getting a little more than friendly out there. The clearing of a throat was the only thing that took his attention away from it and put it back where it should've been.
"Oh. Sorry." He almost blushed and only just managed not to.
Big arms were propped up on the back of the bench causing pectorals to dance beneath the form-fitting shirt. The brunet grinned faintly. "She's...a fireball."
"One way of putting it."
"So..." Dark eyes flared as they roamed what they could of Spike's body above the tabletop. Spike could feel his nipples pucker against his tight t-shirt and saw black eyes linger on the pointy bits. "I'm going to steal a page from Faith's book and be blunt. Want to go somewhere and fuck?"
Spike inhaled sharply. "Could go for a nice buggerin', yeah."
They were kissing frantically, wetly, hungrily before the door to the private back room was even fully closed and locked.
Spike shoved a hand in poufy, gelled hair and yanked the taller man's head to the side so he could bite his neck. He got a happy groan in response and grinned as the other man grabbed him and slammed him into the wall.
His mouth was plundered and he raised a leg to wrap around the brunet's waist. He got a hip wriggle and a slow grinding thrust for his trouble and moaned around the hot tongue inside his mouth.
Breaking away, he panted, "Could use a name, mate. Want to know what I should be screaming."
Provided he had the coherence left to do so when the time...came.
The other man paused, stared down at him for a long time and then said, "Liam." Beat. "But my friends call me Angel."
And you fell from Heaven, didn't you, gorgeous, Spike thought.
Then, he thought, Christ, you're turning into such a bint.
He blinked, breathing hard. His hands clenched in Angel's shirt. "What, like the club, right?"
One side of Angel's lip curved up in a strange sort of smile. "Yeah. Like the club."
"Neat," Spike said before Angel was dragging him to the ground.
Getting naked seemed to take forever.
Spike's pants were far too tight and he was way too hard for them to come down easily -- not to mention sweat made the denim stick and linger. Angel had to work for this fuck.
Spike grunted. "Watch the hands, pillock. Can't come out of here with ruined clothes. Get arrested for public nudity or something. No fuck's worth that no matter how good."
"If your damn pants weren't so fucking tight we wouldn't be having this conversation. I'd already be fucking your ass."
Spike took a breath. "Let me do it, then."
"Be my guest," Angel said dryly, dropping back onto his heels to watch from between Spike's spread thighs. His arousal bulged out from between straining pants.
Spike glared at him but worked at the buttons until all came out of their respective holes and he was free of the denim prison that had been getting tighter and tighter by the moment.
"Happy?"
Angel licked his lips and yanked Spike's pants down to his knees. "Extremely, actually. Now, shut up."
"Don't tell me to--oooh, fuck!" Spike threw back his head as Angel unceremoniously swallowed him whole.
His hands rose and clenched in soft hair and his hips undulated into Angel's face.
He didn't get to fuck Angel's lovely, hot mouth for long, though. Figured the bastard was a tease.
Angel let go with a pop and smirked down at him. He licked his swollen lips. "Flip over."
"You right cockteasing git!"
A dark eyebrow rose. "Roll over, Will. I want to fuck you. I promise it'll be worth it."
"Full of yourself, you are. And it's Spike."
"Spike?" Angel blinked, hands stopping on his zip.
"Like Angel, yeah? Nickname. I prefer it."
"Whatever, Spike. Roll over so I can fuck you."
"Bossy bastard, aren't you?"
"I just know what I want."
Spike grumbled. "Open your trousers first. Want to see what's going to be reaming my ass in a bit, don't I?"
Surprisingly, Angel flushed but he did finish unzipping and opening his pants. He pulled himself out of his boxer briefs and Spike blinked.
"Fucking hell, mate. I hope you've got lube."
"Don't leave home without it."
"That's good," Spike said faintly, eyes still fixed on the large erection visibly throbbing in Angel's big hand.
"On your knees, Spike," Angel said, not unkindly.
"Oh. Right."
The cement floor made his knees hurt and his hands slipped as they perspired but as Angel eased his big prick inside him on a river of lube Spike really couldn't complain because, fuck! It was goddamn good to have Angel's dick in him.
Even if it hadn't been as long as it had been since his last buggering, the fuck would've been this good.
He whimpered as Angel slid inside, could feel every inch as it moved forward. When Angel's balls slapped against his own, he bowed his head and panted through his open mouth, jaw clenching as he adjusted. Wide eyed, he stared at Angel's muscled thighs as they strained to keep still.
A warm paw of a hand rubbed the small of his back. "Okay?"
"Yeah," Spike said, voice strained. "Uh, yeah. Go for it, big guy. Fuck me."
Angel inhaled loudly and began pulling backwards. He thrust back in firmly, smoothly, and then started a nice rhythm.
Spike spread himself open, canted back for more, begged without words because he never begged aloud, and Angel pounded into him in ever increasing speeds, breath coming in loud, ragged pants like a pissed off bull.
Spike fucked back into Angel's thrusts, screwing himself on Angel's cock, and when Angel angled his hips just so he got a lovely electric thrill through his balls and that heavy, intense feeling settled in his stomach, preparing.
Angel fucked him. He arched his spine and shuddered hard enough to cause Angel to steady himself.
And then he was shooting streams of white cum onto the hard concrete beneath him, inhaling brokenly as he whited out briefly.
"Fucking hell, Liam," he groaned, sagging, forearms bracing his weight.
Angel shuddered and tightened his grip on Spike's hips, then hammered Spike's ass with almost painfully hard thrusts until he froze behind him and came.
Spike sighed, rested his forehead on his crossed arms and smacked his lips.
Angel's thighs quivered against his and then the larger man pulled out of him and collapsed at his side looking a little out of it.
Spike eventually unfolded himself and sat up, grimacing at the ache in his ass that meant he'd been well used. The beautiful afterglow of orgasm settled in and overrode any discomfort.
He'd enjoy the warm, well-used achy feeling later when he was using tonight as wanking material.
"Well, that was a bit of all right," he said, patting his pockets, which were still below his knees, for cigarettes he didn't even smoke anymore.
"You could say that again," Angel mumbled beside him, still looking dazed.
"Was a bit of all right," Spike said, smart-assed smile creasing his face.
Angel looked at him, rolled his eyes but grinned all the same. "So...how do you like the club?"
One side of his lips curved up as he lay down and shakily pulled on and did up his pants. "Think it's one of the best I've ever been to and I feature myself returning quite often."
Angel smirked and rolled over onto Spike, pinning him. Spike was kissed, and how. "Good."
Spike was going to have to give Faith something really nice for making him get out of the house tonight. Maybe go down on her and bring her off half a dozen times.
Yeah, she'd like that.
And, so would he.
---END.
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