by Abbie


Xander always got a seat belly-up to the bar. Not because he wanted to be able to catch the bartender's attention at a moment's notice, though that did tend to be an extra feature, but because of the mirror behind most bars. Handy for double-checking vampires or scouting any other supernatural creepy-crawlies that might wander in.

And if it also let him check out the rest of the guys and chicks in the bar without being too obvious about it? That was just an added bonus.

He never looked at himself in that sea of reflection behind the bar. He even went so far as to sometimes pretend the mirror was like his missing eye--always there and never-seeing. Not because he was afraid he'd turn out to be invisible like Marci, or like a vampire, or something. Really. He wasn't worried about that at all.

Xander hadn't chosen the hotel where he was currently staying for the mirror in the bar: it was just where the airline put him up after canceling his flight from L.A. to Japan. It was a marvelous mirror though, spread all along one wall of the room, not made out of that smoky brown shit, but clear. The door wasn't opposite it, but you couldn't take two steps into the room without being spotted. So it was no surprise that Xander was scoping out the room when the guy with the amazing blue eyes walked in.

That wasn't what Xander noticed first. What first got his attention was that the guy was built, extremely built, not body-sculpting crap but seriously working out as well as lifting shit for his job type of built--maybe construction or, here in L.A., dock work. He was shorter than Xander, but probably just as wide. Alright, if someone held a knife to Xander's throat or something he'd admit the guy had bigger, more muscular shoulders. Not that he wanted someone to hold a knife to his throat. He wasn't wishing for that kind of thing. Not at all.

Xander ordered another beer to distract his thoughts from the dangerous tracks they threatened to go speeding down.

The guy also sat down at the bar, a couple of seats up from Xander. That's when Xander got an eyeful of those baby blues, peeking out from under bangs as straight and brown as Dawn's. The eyes were warmer than he'd expected from someone who looked so rough around the edges, torn out knees in his jeans as well as a shirt that had seen better days. He wondered what they looked like after the guy had been kissed. Or how round they'd get, peering up at him while those thin lips were around his dick . . .

And he so did not just think that. He'd had the one experience. Alright, maybe it was more like half-a-dozen by now. He wasn't full-on with the gay like Willow. He was just a young man who was experimenting. Exploring. It was only natural. Or at least that's what both Willow and Giles had told him, and they were both smart and knew stuff and like that.

The guy ordered a Jim Beam, then rolled up his sleeves while he waited. The writing on his bulging forearm caught Xander's attention. It wasn't in English. It looked more like a rope of letters than words. He glanced in the mirror and saw another tat sticking up out the V of the guy's shirt. Something curved. Symbolic.


Xander took another gulp of his beer. This was L.A. It figured that magical riffraff lived here. Angel lived here. He was probably as much of an attraction as the Hellmouth had been in Sunnydale. Demons standing in line to kick his ass. Or, knowing Xander's continuing luck, to kiss it.

This guy wasn't any of Xander's business as long as he didn't do anything suspicious. Xander would try to remember to tell Giles though, just in case. And watch this guy while he was here. Like a hawk.

Hey, who was that woman who had just come up? Xander hadn't seen her approach.

Then he looked back in the mirror and saw why. The woman that tat-boy was talking with had no reflection.

After barely a minute, before Xander had had a chance to figure out how to say something along the lines of, "Hey, your date's a vampire," without getting clocked by Mr. Muscular Blue-eyes, they were leaving the bar. Xander sighed, paid his bill, and followed them.

Of course, they had headed straight for an alley. And, of course, the guy was up against the wall, shirt torn, head wrenched to the side, and about to become vamp chow by the time Xander arrived.

Xander didn't try to warn the idiot, engage in witty banter, or any of the other things sure to get his own ass kicked. And luckily, the vampire seemed to be too focused on its impending meal to pay attention to Xander creeping up behind it. That is, until it was exploding into handy dust pieces that swept away nicely.

"What the fuck was that thing?" the guy sputtered, looking pissed.

Wordlessly, Xander pulled the guy's shirt collar to one side, revealing more of the strange tattoos. "Wanna try that again?"

The guy just threw a grin at him, not embarrassed at all. "Alright, so I knew it was a vampire. Just didn't expect it to go all apeshit on me like that." The guy shook his shoulders and shivered, something between getting the rest of the dust off his clothes and getting over his fear.

Xander crossed his arms and said very slowly, as if speaking to Miller, the guy from the crew who claimed to have gotten all the way through third-grade though Xander doubted it, "That was a vampire. Vam-pire. You know. Evil. What the hell did you expect?"

Now at least the guy had the decency to look chagrinned. "We were supposed to do some business."

Ah. Riley-syndrome. "So you're into getting bitten."

Those clear eyes blazed with a fury Xander hadn't had focused on him since Anya had . . . well, since Anya.

"Fuck you. Hell no. That's disgusting. She was supposed to have an artifact for me."

"Ah. You ah, might want to take the magic elsewhere pal. I have friends in this town who wouldn't appreciate it."

Guy nodded, shoved his fingers into his front jeans pockets and leaned up against the wall. "Wasn't planning on sticking around. And it was just for protection. There's some awfully scary shit in this city."

Xander nodded and turned to leave, but he found he had to turn back. "Look, I'm probably not telling you anything you don't already know, but you can't trust a vampire. Even if he's supposedly good or has a soul or shit like that."

The guy whipped his head around so fast Xander wouldn't have been surprised if he complained of whiplash in the morning. "Wait a second--you know Angel?"

Xander couldn't help but laugh, snorting. "Yeah."

"Hate that bastard." The low growl was unexpected, and sent strange tingles across Xander's shoulders.

"Same here." Xander found himself responding without thinking. The grin he got encouraged him to not stutter and try to take his statement back immediately.

"I'm Lindsey." The guy pushed himself off the wall and offered a hand. Xander took it, shook it, and told himself that they hadn't just held each other's hands longer than was normally polite. He was just being hopeful. Blue eyes got him in trouble every time.

But it did appear that the evening had suddenly become a lot more interesting.

Things got a little blurry after that. First, they went back to the bar, Lindsey insisting on buying him a beer for saving his life. Then Xander bought Linds a beer, on account of how Angel had dissed him. Then there had been a few more rounds, possibly quite a few, followed by more Angel bashing and how dare that stupid vamp take the girl of their dreams and what was a guy to do? Which led to farcical plots of putting food coloring in his hair gel as well as loosening the seams on those oh so fancy suits so that the arms ripped off. Which led to talk of Kirk and his rippable shirts and Queen Amidala and her so conveniently rippable bodice and which then somehow led to them making their way to Xander's room where Lindsey ended up ripping off both their shirts.

It got a lot more hazy after that.


Lindsey cursed his lack of proper resources again as he pulled Xander harshly against him, kissing the younger man with force and skill and calculated passion. He hadn't known about the empty eye socket. He'd assumed that the boy--young man--would have gotten a glass eye first thing. If Lindsey had known, he might have prepared a separate spell, kept the hole for himself, used it for tracking Xander, or even for seeing what he saw.

No matter. His informants had been correct about everything else; Xander's hatred of Angel, his burgeoning explorations of his orientation, his ability to act, his wanting to please. He was perfect, and what he eventually gave Lindsey would be perfect for the summoning spell.

After stripping them of their clothes--Xander seemed a bit too drunk to manage properly--Lindsey maneuvered them to fall sideways onto the bed, wrapped around each other, hands sliding on already slick skin. Lindsey rolled them so he was on top, grateful but not surprised how Xander seemed to open up beneath him. He massaged Xander's wide shoulder with one hand, the muscles pliant under his strong fingers, while he nuzzled and bit and kissed at Xander's neck on the other side, simulating that thing they both had such heated, passionate, hatred for.

He took a larger bite, open mouthed, gently shaking Xander's neck. Then he applied more pressure, until Xander's moan took on a hint of complaint and he felt hands pulling at his hair.

"Don't you ever think about it?" Lindsey asked as he worked his way along Xander's jaw and back to his mouth.

The fear that momentarily stretched across Xander's face was sweet, and normally, Lindsey would have liked to have drawn it out, savored it, but he needed the boy relaxed.

"No, not about being bitten dumb ass. About doing it. To Angel."

"Wh-wh-what?" Xander asked, scooting up a little on the bed.

Lindsey let the boy go. He'd reel him back in a while. Instead, he propped himself up on his elbows and looked up at Xander. "Come on. You've thought about it."

The slight twitch in Xander's shoulders told Lindsey the truth of the young man's wet dreams, what his sources had all hinted at. Why Xander would be perfect.

Without warning, Lindsey rose and positioned himself over Xander's cock. "Haven't you ever thought about that brooding mouth swallowing your dick?" Lindsey suited actions to words, sucking the head of Xander's penis into his mouth, tonguing the slit while keeping it in place with lip-covered teeth. The bittersweet taste of precome drifted into Lindsey's awareness, the skin of Xander's cock soft and warm, making his own cock stiffen. He sucked a little more, bobbing up and down until Xander's hips started to follow his rhythm. Then he let go with an audible pop and pulled himself up the bed.

He kissed Xander hard, letting the passion grow, mapping out the hidden places of Xander's mouth, letting the other man's taste fill him, while his hand tugged at Xander's cock. He pressed his own demanding erection against Xander's thigh, rubbing just enough to tease himself. He returned to biting at Xander's neck, following the moans and tremors with tongue and teeth.

"Or do you dream of being taken?"

The way Xander's whole body stiffened made Lindsey want to chuckle. He held it back for a moment, then decided it was time for the games to begin. He let the laugh out--quiet and purposefully menacing.

The dick in his hand twitched and hardened further.

"No--I--wait--" Xander started, pulling away.

"Shhh," Lindsey interrupted, going back up to kiss Xander's mouth, stop the babbling. "It's okay. We all have our favorite parts," he added, licking Xander's lips, petting the young man's hair. He needed Xander's cooperation, at least for a while.

"Okay?" Lindsey asked, pulling back, staring hard at Xander, willing him to make this choice.

Single eye open wider than Lindsey thought was possible, Xander slowly nodded, as if mesmerized. Lindsey tightened his hand in the hair he held and yanked Xander to him for a kiss made of all teeth and tongue, tugging and pulling the boy's head to get that mouth just where he wanted it--hard enough for a wince, but not hard enough for Xander to fight it.

This time when Lindsey went back to Xander's throat, the boy moaned and turned his head to the side, giving Lindsey better access. Lindsey continued to jerk Xander's cock while he thrust his own demanding dick roughly against Xander's thigh. Xander trembled beneath him, his hands digging into the skin of Lindsey's back, grabbing, holding onto whatever he could.

It didn't take much to suck up a hickey on Xander's neck, to put teeth into it to make it tender. Then Lindsey pulled back, up onto his knees, one hand stroking the mark, Xander alternately gasping and panting. With a final nod, Lindsey straddled Xander, then knee-walked up the bed until he was even with Xander's head.


And Xander did.

Lindsey shoved his cock into that wet heat, one hand reaching down to yank Xander's hair again, holding his head back, leaving his throat exposed.

"This is how you like it, isn't it boy?" Lindsey rasped out, riding Xander's mouth, raising and lowering himself as if on a trotting horse. "Just like this. Fuck that's good."

Xander couldn't nod--Lindsey held his head too tightly--but Lindsey saw the agreement in the boy's single eye, the passion and willing helplessness. Xander had even put his arms above his head, wrists crossed, without being told.

Lindsey drove in deeper, not choking Xander, not quite. He rode the boy hard, watching his cheeks turn red, his eye bulge a little, and the barest tear trickle down his temple. His lips made hungry sounds when Lindsey pulled back so just the head of his cock was in Xander's mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

When Lindsey was close to the edge, he grabbed his cock and pulled all the way out, then used it to paint Xander's lips with more spit and precome.

"Could spatter your pretty face," Lindsey said, his voice low and harsh. His other hand drifted down from its handhold in Xander's hair to his mark on the boy's neck. Lindsey pinched the sore spot and Xander moaned and bared his neck further.

"Hands and knees." Seemingly without thought Xander obeyed, and Lindsey was there behind him, slicking him up, the boy already opening and irising and ready for him. It didn't take a minute before Lindsey was gloved up and shoving in and god, that fucking heat and tightness taking him over. He grabbed onto Xander's hips and banged into him, feeling his own balls starting to tighten again.

He smacked Xander's ass, not hard, but open-handed, a wet loud sound. Xander shook and dropped his head, moaning. Lindsey hit him again, palm tingling.

"Is this what you dream about? Angel fucking you like this?"

Another slap before Xander answered, the words barely croaked out. "God, yes."

"So this is Angel fucking you. That cold prick inside you. Making you take it. Making you want it." Lindsey fucked Xander harder, pushing him, punishing him.

Xander went down to his elbows, audibly panting. "Yesyesyesyesyes," the words strung together like a rope of need, tugging Lindsey closer to the edge again, making him fuck faster, crueler, pounding out his own rage on this too warm body, muscular and pliant and not him. Circling tighter and spiraling toward that missing hole of darkness and light and then Lindsey was slowing, pulling himself back, not coming, not yet.

When Lindsey had calmed enough, he reached one hand around to circle the base of Xander's cock, then growled out his question, "You want to come?" He squeezed tighter, so close, so very close, both of them.

"Yes," came the shaky reply.

"Yes what?" he asked, two quick jerks before he quickly choked off Xander's impending orgasm.

"Yes . . . Angel."

With a roar Lindsey flung his head back and started fucking Xander again, fingers digging into already bruised hips, plunging as his spine tightened and his world grew whitehotflash and his view shattered as his cock pumped out its hoard and Xander's did the same.

They stayed locked together for a moment after that, shaking, each trying to catch his breath. Then they collapsed with a shared groan, Lindsey rolling off to one side. He brushed the hair out of Xander's sleepy and sated eye, then said the words, "Citius, penetranter, somnus."

And the eye closed and a soft snore crept out of Xander's mouth.

Lindsey grabbed his supplies from his jeans and quickly went to work, gathering up Xander's cooling come from the bed, as well as drawing a very small amount of Xander's blood from center of the hickey on his neck. Even if the young man found the wound, Lindsey was certain he wouldn't say anything. Would probably cheer Lindsey on in his destruction of Angel.

After dressing, Lindsey lifted the spell, then woke Xander with a shake. "Didn't want to leave without saying bye." He kissed Xander on the forehead and petted his hair a few times, watching carefully as the boy struggled between wakefulness and dreams. After another moment Lindsey said, "Go back to sleep."

Xander seemed to collapse as he sank back into the bed, already breathing deeply. He wouldn't clearly remember anything, except Lindsey saying good-bye, telling him to sleep. No suspicions. No reason to say a word to anyone. Particularly not after the role-playing they'd indulged in.

Lindsey let himself out of the room. He started whistling on his way to the elevator, pleased with himself. He'd successfully gotten the essence of one who merely dreamed of Angel--his eternal target--given while they actively dreamed. Now, Lindsey only needed to gather the essence of one who had actually been with Angel, and the real games with the Selminth parasite could begin.





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