Okay, so here we have an smutty NC-17 Splindsey, that is completely the fault of (and therefore dedicated to) my lovely honey![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
blondebitz. Heh...the fuck-ugly truck rides again my darling ;-)
(Incidentally, as you know flist, Blondie and I have started a Lindsey comm called![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif)
the_elevatorand you should totally go and join immediately. Shoo! You know you wanna ;-) Oh, and just to remind you, you have to actually join the comm - and not just "watch" - to be able to read the posts).
This is actually a sequel to How to Ride, which pretty much featured Spike and Lindsey going at it in his truck behind a red-neck bar....Yep, I'm all about the PWP....
Enjoy!
Leather and Gasoline
blondebitz. Heh...the fuck-ugly truck rides again my darling ;-)(Incidentally, as you know flist, Blondie and I have started a Lindsey comm called
the_elevatorand you should totally go and join immediately. Shoo! You know you wanna ;-) Oh, and just to remind you, you have to actually join the comm - and not just "watch" - to be able to read the posts). This is actually a sequel to How to Ride, which pretty much featured Spike and Lindsey going at it in his truck behind a red-neck bar....Yep, I'm all about the PWP....
Enjoy!
Leather and Gasoline
Spike was feeling fairly dumb and uncharacteristically nervous as he stared out of his apartment window at the tree-lined street, leg jigging up and down as he smoked his thousandth cigarette down to the filter.
New York was pretty in the autumn, and the digs his company had found for him in the old, well-preserved brownstone were actually better than he was used to. He moved around all the time as part of his work for the studio, seeking out locations for films and television programmes, but the Big Apple was his base these days.
He still travelled permanently, though. Just last month he’d been WAY down South…
It was an old story. Guy walks into a redneck bar, chats up the lead singer of a country band, gets nailed by him in his fuck-ugly truck…
Okay, maybe not that that old.
He didn’t really think either of them had expected to like the other in the morning – or the days that followed – and he knew for damned sure that the exchange of cell numbers had been unfamiliar for them both. And even though he’d felt a strange, hollow ache (which admittedly was mostly in his groin) when he’d driven away, he’d known that New York was a long way away, in every sense. The US wasn’t like England, where even the other end of the country was less than half a day’s drive away and the four points of the compass weren’t different universes.
So, he’d been shocked when he’d received the call just yesterday, grinning all over his face like a bloody fool.
“Hey. Remember me?”
“Couldn’t forget a sexy accent like that.”
“Right back at ya, Blondie. So…Guess where I am.”
“Um…From all that clunking and rattling, I’m gonna go with either the engine room of a sinking steamboat, or that piece of shit pickup of yours.”
“You know the rules; no dissin’ my gal.”
“Terribly sorry.”
“Should think so. I’m on I70, coming outta Columbus; was up here for my uncle’s wedding. Thought I might take in New York for a coupla days, since I’m most of the way there.”
“Ohio’s most of the way to New York…?”
“Where I’m from? Yeah.”
“Guess you’ll be wanting someone to show you around then?”
“Well, either that or a dirty fuck…”
It had been so unexpected, and very welcome. But now he was sat there like a complete wanker, staring longingly out of the window for the stupid orange truck and he couldn’t help but remember an uncomfortably similar scene from Brokeback Mountain. It was pathetic really.
How pathetic the whole thing was didn’t stop him from practically pressing his nose to the window every time he heard the rumble of a vehicle up his quiet street, and when the monstrosity finally did come rolling into view he knocked his chair over in his hurry to get to his feet.
By the time he flung open the door to his building, he’d managed to calm his pace to something rather more nonchalant than his ungainly stumble down the stairs and he had to shake his head at himself over his eagerness to see the cowboy again. Their night and morning after had stretched into the full five days that Spike had been in town, but it could hardly have been described as a relationship, or even a fling. And yet…it had been enough for them both to realise that there was something there, something unlooked for.
Lindsey had managed to find a parking spot just on the other side of the street (and Spike could just imagine what his snobby neighbours would think of that) and now he was crossing over to where the blond stood, grinning and slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder.
“It managed to get you here then?” teased Spike, nodding at the truck, which was ticking and creaking as it cooled.
“Yeah, she was as good as gold,” he replied as he stopped in front of Spike, reaching out and hauling him forwards with a fist wound into his tee-shirt. “Guess she knew how bad I wanted you,” he whispered heatedly against the other man’s lips before drawing him into a deep, lustful kiss.
Completely incapable of caring that he was stood in the middle of his street, making out with a slightly scruffy cowboy with too-long hair and a conspicuous Stetson that he hadn’t bothered to remove, Spike groaned into the kiss and grabbed at his back and shoulders. It was only as they started mauling each other’s asses and began to harden that it occurred to them that it might be prudent to move the action inside.
“Come on,” breathed Spike with a penetratingly sexy and promising look, gripping Lindsey’s hand and tugging him towards the brownstone.
He didn’t need to be asked twice.
Halfway up the stairs, Lindsey found the tight, round ass just in front of him to be way too much of a temptation and he grabbed hold of it, leaning down to bite it through the denim with an animalistic grunt. Spike swore and turned around, falling backwards onto the staircase and shooting his hands out to ensnare Lindsey. Whether he’d simply been intending to save himself or whether he’d meant for the other man to end up sprawled on top of him was irrelevant, because Lindsey deliberately went down too and then they were kissing and dry-humping on the wooden stairs.
Hands had begun to insinuate themselves beneath clothing before the proceedings were brought to an abrupt halt by a door on the next landing up opening to reveal a well-dressed middle-aged woman leading her poodle out of her apartment on a pink rhinestone leash. She stopped dead in her tracks and gasped at the sight of the two amorous men several feet below her.
“Afternoon, Mrs. Brennen,” said Spike politely as Lindsey reluctantly staggered to his feet and picked up his duffle bag, holding it in front of his groin as he touched his hand to his hat and muttered a sheepish “Ma’am.”
Spike wondered whether he should borrow Lindsey’s hat to hide his own…enthusiasm as he also dragged himself upright.
Mrs. Brennen glared flatly before sticking her nose haughtily in the air and waltzing down the stairs past them, uttering a high pitched “Come along, Ferdinand,” presumably to her dog.
Chuckling, Lindsey whispered, “I think Ferdinand’s gonna be writin’ a strongly worded letter to the Residents’ Association about your behaviour.”
Spike treated him to a two-fingered British salute. “You’ll be laughing on the other side of your face when he pisses on the wheel of your truck.”
Lindsey looked alarmed for a moment and Spike grinned. “Don’t worry, I’m only kidding…Ferdinand wouldn’t be seen dead pissing on that.”
The brunet narrowed his eyes and swatted Spike on the ass. “Do you know what I’m gonna do to you?”
“Er…make idle threats but then realise that you just wanna fuck me and forget to follow through on them?”
“Probably,” he smiled. “You’re damned lucky you got such a sexy ass…” He helped himself to a handful of it, groping obscenely until Spike was in danger of just wrestling him back onto the stairs and going at it right there.
“Fuck…Come on.”
“Yeah,” agreed Lindsey, breathing heavily.
Walking the next flight of stairs and getting into Spike’s apartment took way too long, and by the time they were finally on the right side of a closed door, the lust was bursting through them again.
“Kitchen…Bathroom…” mumbled Spike against Lindsey’s lips, waving vaguely at the passing rooms as he walked them backwards through the apartment, trying to simultaneously remove their clothing. “And this is the FUCK!...Oomph!...Watch it, will ya?!”
“You were s’posed to be steering!” groused Lindsey, wondering what the fuck Spike was complaining about since he was the one who had tripped over the coffee table to land heavily against the corner of the couch, with the weight of the blond squashing the wind out of him.
“I can’t give the tour, undress us and watch where we’re going!” he replied with an eye-roll and Lindsey laughed through his wince of pain. Abruptly, he altered their position, tumbling them both off their precarious perch so that Spike was trapped underneath him on the rug.
“This’ll do,” he smiled, voice husky and low.
“Yeah, beds are overrated anyway,” nodded Spike, planting his hands firmly on Lindsey’s ass and rocking their hips together.
“Damn straight…I got everythin’ I need right here.” He slammed his groin against Spike’s and the hard columns of their cocks slid along each other with dizzying friction.
“Fuck!”
Spike had managed to strip out of his tee-shirt and unbutton Lindsey’s shirt, as well as unfasten their pants, before their impromptu tumble to the floor, so they were already skin on skin. Lindsey wasted no time in whipping his shirt off completely and shoving their jeans down over their hips, kissing Spike hungrily as he did so.
As the blond kicked off his boots and ran his hands greedily over the taut muscles of Lindsey’s back and ass, he sent up a quick prayer of thanks to whoever that the cowboy had been thrown back into his path. He’d never met anyone who was such a whirlwind of sexual energy and inspired a corresponding, enveloping heat within his own body.
He suddenly felt Lindsey squirming and heard a muffled curse against his lips. He peered down the length of their entwined bodies to see that Lindsey’s jeans had reached his cowboy boots and inevitably become stuck, trapping his lower legs together. Spike chuckled. “Having trouble?”
“Nah, fuck it; they can stay like that,” he grinned dismissively. “Won’t stop me fucking your tight little ass through the floor, so I dunno what you’re laughin’ about…”
Spike gasped and arched up as the thick head of Lindsey’s dick nudged up against his ass and then slid teasingly over his entrance. Even though the sane part of his brain was shouting “lubricant!” at him, he tried to re-angle his hips and push back, his hard cock dragging between their stomachs.
“Shit! Babe, that’s a real bad idea if we wanna do this more ‘n once,” pointed out Lindsey, kissing the side of Spike’s mouth and glancing around to locate where he’d dropped his duffle. Frowning with irritation when he spotted that it was several feet away, off to the left of the rug, he reluctantly slipped off the blond and covered the distance in an ungainly crawl.
There was no way in hell that Spike could resist the temptation that was Lindsey’s bare arse wriggling across the floor, his entrapped legs making him vulnerable to any attack that the blond took it into his head to launch. Lindsey grunted as he was tackled from behind, falling forwards as his arms buckled and landing face-first against his bag.
Spike smirked at the string of muffled expletives, licking and sucking his way up Lindsey’s throat as he slid his dick up the crack of the brunet’s backside, grinding hard against him. “Look at you, all trapped and at my mercy…Serves you right for waving that sexy arse at me; want me to fuck it? Hmmm?” he asked, nibbling on the shell of Lindsey’s ear.
Gasping, Lindsey turned his face to the side, one hand scrabbling at a side pocket. “At this point, stud, I ain’t all that fussy,” he confided with a sexy smile as he yanked open the zipper and condoms and lubricant scattered across the wooden flooring. “But someone needs to get fucked.”
Although Lindsey had been adamant about being in the driving seat the first time they’d slept together, when he’d been charged up from playing a gig, Spike had very soon discovered that he was equally as happy to take as to give. As was Spike himself. And it certainly wasn’t as if they wouldn’t both get the chance to top, especially if the roughly five hundred condoms spilling out of Lindsey’s bag were anything to go by.
“Expecting the Trojan army, are we…?” enquired the Brit as he reached out and sorted through the plethora of protection to snag the lubricant.
“If only,” laughed Lindsey, his mirth descending into a moan as Spike kissed and licked over his neck and shoulder, rhythmically pumping his hips forwards. “Maybe I just got carried away thinking of all the fun we’d have.”
Spike rolled him onto his back, quickly spreading himself out on top so that their feverishly warm skin was pressed together at every possible point. Instantly, he felt arms strong with thick, corded muscle wrap around his torso and then they were kissing passionately again. He felt his senses going into overload, his awareness deliciously heightened as he enjoyed the light scratch of stubble and the slick feel of the first trickles of sweat pooling between them.
Spike loved that there was nothing feminine or even urban about Lindsey – not like all these metrosexual pricks he saw every day in the city. He didn’t moisturise or shave his chest or mousse his hair; he was unashamedly male, right down to the deep, smoky drawl and the musky scent of him.
“I want you to fuck me,” blurted the blond suddenly as Lindsey’s heady presence proved too much for him to resist.
The other man arched a brow, although his eyes glazed even further with desire. “Anythin’ you say, boss…”
Lindsey forced them into a roll so that he was on top, feeling the light scratch of debris and wondering when the last time that Spike had cleaned his apartment had been…and deciding that he couldn’t give a flying fuck. Fortunately, Spike had retained the presence of mind to keep hold of the lubricant and a rubber, which he now set about applying to Lindsey as the brunet kneeled up between his spread thighs.
Lindsey accepted the tube from Spike, his eyes rolling as the condom was worked down his shaft with a tight, squeezing grip. He squirted some of the thick liquid onto his fingers and also leaned forwards to drizzle some over Spike’s exposed ass, grinning when he flinched from the cold and then settled back against the wooden floorboards. He carelessly discarded the lubricant and planted his left hand by the other man’s chest, leaning his weight on it as he worked the fingers of his right into the glistening, clenching hole. Spike hissed pleasurably and bowed his back.
“Next time we’re doing this slow,” said Lindsey softly, stretching him rapidly and adding a third finger, letting him feel the burn. “And I’m gonna lick out this tight, sweet ass of yours until you’re begging me…”
Spike groaned and reached up to drag Lindsey’s full weight down on top of him. “I’m begging you now. Please put your fat cock in me?”
Crushing Spike into the floor with his weight, Lindsey reached his free hand down and shoved his thighs even further apart, twisting the fingers still buried inside until he was panting and keening. Then he pulled them free and slammed his dick home with one hard stroke, his body keeping Spike pinned beneath him.
“Jesus fucking Chr…Shit!!! Oh…fuck, yeah…”
Lindsey smiled at Spike reactions through the intense stab of burning fullness to pleasure, kissing him once the cursing stopped. “Man, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he mumbled against his lips, wriggling a hand between their bodies so that he could tug on Spike’s balls and grab hold of his erection, which was slippery from pre-cum and sweat. “I love jacking your big, uncut dick…I want it in me later…”
Lindsey thrust hard into Spike, whispering dirty things between bruising, clashing kisses that were wet and heavy on tongue and so fucking arousing that they could barely stop to breathe.
Spike could feel his cock pulsing in Lindsey’s hand and their hearts thundering against one another and he clutched desperately at the other man’s biceps and back, wrapping his legs tightly around his waist until Lindsey hooked one over his shoulder; Spike was practically bent in half as his prostate was nailed with a force and accuracy that made his head spin.
They were both hopelessly turned on and already racing towards completion much faster than they wanted to be. Although neither of them were really prepared to admit it, they hadn’t been able to get each other out of their heads, to the extent that it had affected their sex lives. They’d barely even bothered with anyone else since Spike had driven out of Lindsey’s town six weeks previously, and every encounter had been bland and uninspiring.
They were panting harshly and sweating and the bare floor was damned uncomfortable. There was practically no finesse to their animal rutting beyond the kind of natural grace that required no design, and the slaps of their bruising flesh echoed around the high ceilinged room, loud and obscene. And it was all so exquisitely hot.
Lindsey heard the change in Spike’s breathing and the way that his moans were coming louder and quicker, and he realised that the blond was about to shoot his load. The awareness was enough to start the familiar tightening of his balls as washes of heated pleasure began to flow through him. “No, fuck!” he mumbled, knowing that it was too late and pounding into Spike harder as he succumbed to the explosion.
The blond had been almost there anyway, and knowing that he had sent Lindsey out of control was a total turn on. Insofar as he could, he rocked back onto the other man’s hammering cock and forwards into his hot, tight fist. “Yes…Gonna come now…Shit, yes!”
Lindsey hissed as his excitement dissipated enough for him to realise that Spike’s nails were digging painful gouges into his back, but he kissed him nevertheless, pumping his still-hard cock into him to prolong his orgasm.
They lay slumped together, sticky and slightly grimy, arms wrapped tight around each other and mouths fused together. Eventually, Lindsey propped himself up on his forearms a little to take some of the weight off Spike. “So…this is New York, huh? So far I like it.”
Spike laughed, tangling a hand in his hair and tugging playfully. “Well, why don’t we have a shower and then see about me showing you something more exciting than my bloody floor?”
“Shower? Great. As for the other…I ain’t so sure the city’s got much to offer that’s gonna be more exciting than this.”
“Good point, pet. Still, we could at least venture somewhere slightly more comfortable.”
“I guess. Better be quick though; time’s a wastin’ and if we keep taking breaks like this we’ll never get through all those rubbers…”
Spike snorted with amusement, slapping Lindsey’s ass to get him moving and delightedly taking the piss when gravity and the jeans still tangled around his ankles got the better of him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Despite Spike’s big talk, they hadn’t actually managed to leave the apartment and were currently watching TV in companiable silence, Lindsey’s arm wrapped casually around the blond and hugging him to his broad chest.
As the news came on, the date on screen sank in and Spike suddenly cursed.
“What?”
“Bugger it all to hell! I completely forgot about this ridiculous work thing I have tonight. It’s the press launch of a new series we’re doing; I have to be there to show my face at least…Bollocks.”
Smiling at Spike’s adorable pout and cross glare, Lindsey shrugged. “So? You won’t be gone long, will you? I think I’ll live.”
The blond turned to him hopefully. “You could come with me?”
“Yeah? Sure.”
Spike marvelled sometimes at how easy Lindsey was to be with. Not like his last boyfriend, who had been exhaustingly high maintenance. Not that Lindsey was his boyfriend or anything. And anyway, speaking of which…
“Er…There’s just one thing…?”
Lindsey slipped his rough hand under Spike’s tee-shirt, lightly mapping out his chest. “Let me guess…They don’t let uncouth rednecks in?”
“Heh, no…I suggested that rule, but unfortunately no-one listened…” He chuckled when Lindsey pinched his nipple and growled at him, but then nibbled his lip and grew more serious. “My ex will be there.”
The hand stopped momentarily in its explorations, but the pause was barely perceptible and then it smoothly resumed its soothing movement. “Will it be a problem?”
“Not for me. Might be for him. Shouldn’t matter though; we keep our distance these days and he shouldn’t say anything at a work do anyway. Besides, it’s none of his fucking business so he can just jog on.”
Lindsey was surprised into laughter as his forehead puckered. “Jog on…?”
“Means ‘fuck off’. But, you know, politer. Sort of…Guess it depends how it’s said really.”
Lindsey nodded, snorting at the Anglo-Saxon lesson, then looked thoughtful for a moment.
“If it ain’t a problem for you, then I’ll come. I’m fine with it and I could care less what your ex thinks.” They hadn’t talked about past relationships – they were nowhere near at that stage, if truth be told – but Lindsey was astute enough to realise that Spike’s last lover had treated him like shit.
Spike didn’t miss the very slight edge to the sentence – just a hint of protectiveness and possessiveness. He couldn’t help but like it, and he was glad that Lindsey wanted to go to the launch with him. With any luck they wouldn’t really cross paths with Angel and, besides, he was allowed to have a date if he wanted one. And, much to his own surprise, he’d found someone in Lindsey that he liked enough to risk rocking the boat.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lindsey had insisted on driving uptown, much to Spike’s irked amusement.
The strange thing was that being back in the ratty old pickup had instantly given him a semi. He supposed that it was partly the remembrance of their first encounter, out behind that rough country bar, but it was also the smell of the truck. He’d read somewhere that the olfactory system was very strongly linked to memory and tended to inspire past emotions.
Leather and gasoline. He wondered vaguely whether that particular mix of scents was going to get him off forever.
Spike thought it was kinda sweet that Lindsey had dressed up, by his standards at least. He was wearing smart jeans, a nice brown shirt and a brown leather jacket that made him look so bloody hot that Spike was sorely tempted to sack off the launch and just bang him all night long. Of course, he was still wearing the cowboy boots and a rodeo buckle (which was fair enough, given how good he was ‘in the saddle’, in Spike’s humble opinion), but he’d at least left the Stetson behind.
Urban cowboy chic was big at the moment. He’d probably be the most fashionable person there.
“What are you laughin’ at?”
“Just my thoughts, luv. Nothing interesting. To be honest, I’m surprised you heard me over the sodding din your girl’s making.”
“Pardon?”
“Very funny.”
As Spike led Lindsey into the suave venue for the launch, heading immediately for the bar, he was accosted by several people.
The brunet could tell that Spike was more well-known and popular in the industry than would usually be the case, considering that his job of selecting, profiling and modelling locations was pretty much behind the scenes. However, someone who looked like he did tended to make an impression, and he could really turn on the charm with that damned sexy accent. Even so, Lindsey got the sense that a lot of these folks knew Spike through his ex, who was a producer or something, richer than hell and following in his Daddy’s footsteps.
People were certainly paying more attention to him than he liked, but he smiled graciously and answered questions politely in his smooth Southern drawl and everyone seemed quite taken with him. He heaved a sigh of relief as they reached the relative safety of the bar and were finally alone for a moment.
“Are you okay? Sorry; didn’t think there’d be so many people here I knew.”
“It’s alright. Folks are bein’ so nice though…They obviously think I have money.”
Spike laughed. Well, they would do. In these people’s eyes, only a complete fucking idiot would split from their multi-millionaire boyfriend and then hook up with some country singer who still had to do manual labour to pay the bills and was barely half a step up from white trash.
“They also think you’re bloody hot. Which you are.”
Lindsey smiled. “Oh, now I see how you are…I’m just some chippie to look pretty on your arm, huh?”
Spike took a step nearer and looked him up and down lasciviously. “And wot would you say if that were the case?”
Lindsey leaned in close until their chests were almost touching, allowing his breath to flutter over Spike’s ear. “I’d say that I’ll look even prettier on your dick…”
The blond swallowed hard around a gasp and Lindsey smirked at him, leaning an elbow back against the bar.
He was about to respond – probably by tackling Lindsey to the floor and ripping his clothes off – when the bartender opportunely appeared. Spike gratefully turned to him and Lindsey chuckled as he watched him surreptitiously rearrange his crotch, before casting a glance around the room.
He froze as he spotted the dark eyes boring into him and was grateful that Spike was distracted. Well, at least he wouldn’t have to ask which guy was Angel; no-one else would have a reason to be scowling at him with a gaze so heated and intense that it could melt steel. He only held the man’s eyes for a moment before continuing his scout of the room, not wanting to seem confrontational (and also not wanting to let the big prick think that he was worth more than a second glance, not that he would admit to that less-than-noble sentiment…)
For some reason, Lindsey hadn’t expected him to be so good-looking. Not that Spike couldn’t have any man he wanted, because Lord knew he was sex on legs, but Lindsey personally didn’t think it was fair that rich producers with trust funds should also be young and smoking hot.
And didn’t he just feel like a piece of rough trade? It kinda turned him on.
He’d have been pissed off if he thought for a second that Spike was parading him around to aggravate Angel in some kind of rebellious “I can fuck any class of guy I want” gesture. But he already knew the other man well enough to be sure that wasn’t the case. Spike just wanted to move on from the whole thing. And yeah, it helped that he was hot – no-one was that fucking principled when it came to exes – but Spike hadn’t brought him along for Angel’s benefit.
He accepted the bottle of Bud with a smile when it was offered and they knocked their drinks together. “Cheers.”
“Good health. And thanks for coming tonight; I know it’ll prob’ly be boring as hell for you, but I promise to make it up later.”
“Now that’s one promise I’ll be cashing in on,” warned Lindsey with a wink, trying not to grin goofily when he felt Spike’s hand resting lightly on his hip, a thumb absently rubbing small circles on his smooth abdomen, just beneath his shirt. It was subtle; Spike wasn’t trying to flaunt that they were together. But he wasn’t hiding it either, and Lindsey found that quite novel; guys back home didn’t tend to be what you’d call overt. One time, he’d received a black eye for putting his arm around a man in public who’d happily sucked his dick just half an hour before in private.
Lindsey flicked his eyes over Spike’s shoulder to notice that they were still being observed, and he did his best not to feel smug.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The presentations and speeches hadn’t lasted too long, for which Lindsey had been grateful. Spike had been doing the appropriate amount of mingling, always either taking the other man with him or ensuring that he was happy chatting to whoever or propping up the bar, even though he’d now moved onto Coca-Cola because of driving.
Around two and a half hours after they’d arrived, Spike rubbed a hand up his back and said, “Okay, I think I’ve fulfilled my duty now. Wanna make a move?”
Lindsey nodded and was about to speak when his face tightened. Spike looked back over his shoulder to see that Angel was approaching them. Oh fuck. And he’d so nearly gotten away scot free, too.
“Hey Will,” he greeted nonchalantly, raking his eyes over Lindsey and allowing a little smirk to slide over his face when the other man looked surprised by the name.
“Angel,” nodded Spike, doing a fairly good job of hiding his tension. “It’s going well.”
“Yeah, it’s okay. We had a last minute panic when the caterers screwed up but it turned out alright…So,” he continued, eyes passing between Spike and Lindsey. “Are you going to introduce me?”
Lindsey was glad that Angel hadn’t added the patronising “to your little friend” that he was clearly thinking, or else he’d have been forced to deck him. He knew that the guy could tell instantly that he wasn’t rich or important; men like him could smell that kind of thing a mile away.
“Right. This is Lindsey; he’s visiting with me for a few days. Lindsey? This is Angel; he’s a producer for the network.”
“Hey man, nice to meet you,” said Lindsey pleasantly, offering his hand. Angel shook it, and Lindsey could see that he was annoyed by the neutral reaction. He knew that Lindsey knew that he was the ex; to not be acknowledged as a threat or be thrown so much as a wary, bristling glance was infuriating.
“Likewise,” returned Angel with a very obvious lack of sincerity. “Visiting? Well, I guess I can tell by the accent that you’re not from around here.”
“That’s right, I’m not. Just a country boy up in the big city for a coupla days, taking in the sights.” He shared a glance with Spike, the thought occurring to them both that the only sights he’d seen so far had been the blond’s floor, shower and couch.
Stifling a smirk, Spike said, “Met him when I was checking out a location for that County Sherriff thing.”
Cursing himself a little for calling in favours to deliberately get Spike assigned to the back of beyond in a fit of petty revenge, Angel nodded. “I see.”
There were a few moments of awkward silence and then Lindsey said, “Should I see about getting our jackets?” Angel clearly had something he wanted to say to “Will” and Lindsey felt he should make himself scarce for a minute or two. Of course, the fact that his sentence also rubbed into Angel’s face that they were leaving together was an added bonus.
“Yeah, thanks. That’d be great,” replied Spike, grateful at the prospect that they could leave soon. Why the fuck was Angel doing this? He should know better than to start a personal discussion at a work function.
“Alright then. Back in a minute.” Lindsey gave a quick, reassuring smile before he headed off in the direction of the coat check and Spike returned it before sighing and staring directly at Angel. He looked good. Not as good as Lindsey did, but that might only be from Spike’s perspective because he knew what a domineering twat he was.
“What the fuck, Will?”
“Wot the fuck wot?”
“You bring some trailer trash redneck here and flaunt him around in front of everyone. Is it supposed to be an insult to me?”
Spike glared at him, eyes hard and flat like burnished steel. “It’s not s’posed to be anything to you. Every time I’ve seen you since we split, you’ve had a date – did I get in a huff? No. Because we’re s’posed to be moving on.”
“I never wanted to move on in the first place,” pointed out Angel. “You’re the one that ended it, remember? You hurt me.”
“Yeah, and you hurt me every fucking day we were together,” he bit back through gritted teeth. Occasionally it had been physical, but it was more the continual psychological and emotional onslaught that had worn him down. To be told that he was worthless and a gold digger and only good for one thing had just been too much to cope with.
Angel rolled his eyes, letting it show plainly that he thought Spike was being ridiculously melodramatic again; trying to make other people feel small and silly was another favoured trick of his. And he was good enough at it that Spike had wasted a lot of time wondering whether he had been overreacting and blaming himself for how miserable he had been. He’d wised up eventually though and done the unthinkable – well, unthinkable to Angel at least – by calling the whole thing off.
“What the hell are you doing, Will?” he asked, tone softening. “You’ll never settle for a guy like that. Slumming can be fun but it’s not what you want in a boyfriend.”
Spike’s eyes blazed with fury, but he forcibly repressed the urge to punch his former lover in the face. Instead, he went for the low blow. “He’s not my boyfriend, Angel. We just had a dirty fuck behind a bar, which turned into an extended dirty fuck anywhere we could find. And it was so bloody good that he came all the way up to New York so that we could fuck some more. Does that make you feel better?”
Angel glowered, practically baring his teeth. “Since when did you become such a fucking slut?” he spat.
Spike shrugged and smirked. “Since I met Lindsey.”
Ouch.
Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, Lindsey chose that moment to reappear with their jackets, handing Spike’s to him as he slipped his own on. “Ready?”
“More than,” replied the blond, looking pointedly at Angel. He still couldn’t believe that the prick had laid into him, especially when they were out in public like this. Whatever they’d had was completely done and he had no interest in these little mindfucks. He was just grateful that Angel had kept his voice down; to all intents and purposes, they’d just looked like they were having a fairly normal conversation, although of course many interested eyes had been riveted on them.
Lindsey glanced at Angel. “Okay,” he said mildly, adjusting his collar.
Angel glared at the pair of them, noticing with immense irritation that they looked stunning together, even though Lindsey’s hair was way too long and he had earrings, for fuck’s sake! Of course, Spike wasn’t exactly clean-cut himself, with his peroxided hair, leather coat and thick-cut silver rings, but at least he hadn’t just stepped off the fucking ranch.
“Okay, Will. Fine. You go play with your hick fucktoy. I just hope he’s not expecting you two to get a little trailer all of your own; wouldn’t want him getting his heart broken when he realises that he’s a few too many steps down the food chain for you.”
It was just about an insult too far for Spike and he clenched his fists as his sides. He was surprised when he felt Lindsey’s restraining hand on his arm, firm but soothing. Spike turned to him to see that he was regarding Angel with a mixture of contempt and amusement.
“I ain’t good enough for him; I get it. But he’s coming home with me, in my beaten-up, rusty old truck, which is a ’56, by the way. Bet you didn’t know people still drove vehicles that old, huh? Anyway, the point is, I may not have money or power or anythin’ that you consider important, but for now I have him. And you know why? Because I don’t treat him like shit, and that makes me better than you.”
Angel gaped at him with incredulous outrage, too paralysed with shock to even think of conjuring a suitable response.
Lindsey slipped his hand into Spike’s in preparation for leaving and smiled when he felt it squeezed in return. He looked up at Angel and winked at him. “So…Jog on, darlin’.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spike had managed to wait until they had left the building before breaking into uncontrollable laughter, but only just.
“Oh, cowboy…I stand totally corrected. “Jog on” can be considerably less polite than “fuck off” if said in just the right way…”
Lindsey grinned at him, leading him over to the passenger door of the pickup. “Thought you’d appreciate that, Blondie.”
Spike turned as Lindsey opened the door for him, looking at him earnestly and sliding an arm around his waist. “I really did.”
Not quite sure how to respond verbally, Lindsey leaned in and kissed him, wrapping his arms around his back and pulling his body close. He was almost taken aback by the fierce passion that greeted him; Spike immediately crushed their torsos together almost painfully and opened his mouth, licking Lindsey’s lips apart forcefully and insistently rolling their tongues together as they bumped groins.
Just as Lindsey recovered enough to match the intensity, Spike suddenly pulled away and he groaned at the loss.
“Get in here,” demanded the blond, practically jumping into the pickup and scooting across the seat to make room for Lindsey.
“But…” he began to protest, thinking that it was going to be fairly challenging to drive home if he was sitting in the passenger seat. And driving home seemed like a pretty fuckin’ good idea right about now, because Spike had given him an instant erection and he would really like to make use of it.
“I said, get in this bloody ugly truck! Now!”
Lindsey might have argued, or possibly defended his gal’s honour, but Spike reached back out to grab a fistful of shirt in one hand and his crotch in the other and all coherent thought fled the building.
Lindsey stumbled into the cab, just about retaining enough presence of mind to slam the door behind him, and Spike abruptly attacked his mouth again. The brunet was forced back against the seat by Spike’s body pressing against him, and then hands were covering his shoulders and biceps, keeping him in place. Willingly submitting to the domination, Lindsey relaxed back and let Spike take the lead; although he wasn’t entirely sure where he was being led to because there really wasn’t room to fuck with both doors closed and it seemed like a spectacularly bad idea anyway, considering where they were.
At least, academically it seemed like a bad idea. His body thought it was a fantastic idea, as demonstrated by the fact that his cock was trying its best to punch a hole through his jeans.
Lindsey gasped as he felt hands scrabbling at his belt, fumbling it undone and then tugging apart his button fly. He managed to pull his lips back slightly from the demanding kiss. “Spike!”
“Shut up,” he ordered, sliding his palm around Lindsey’s hard dick and freeing it from the constricting denim.
“But I ain’t so sure we should…”
Spike nipped his full lower lip as he squeezed his shaft and rubbed a thumb over the leaking head, scraping his nail lightly over the slit. “I said, shut the fuck up.”
Lindsey shut up.
For a few moments the full-on assault continued as he was kissed harshly and pinned to the seat and his cock was roughly jacked. And then, all at once, it stopped. He was about to protest in the strongest possible terms when his hardness was surrounded by the wet heat of Spike’s mouth and he bucked his hips up with a surprised shout.
“Jesus, Spike! Fuck!”
There was no teasing, just immediate hard suction and a sinful tongue running feverishly over the thick underside vein and delicate folds. It was so intense that Lindsey almost wanted to escape the sensation, but it was just too fucking good.
The pleasure was relentless. Spike sucked and hummed and swallowed, letting spit slide everywhere and making wet slurps and grunts that were obscenely loud in the confines of the cab. He managed to insinuate his hand inside Lindsey’s jeans and grope his balls within the tight denim, putting an almost painful pressure on them.
Lindsey couldn’t do anything but hang on for the ride. Cursing continually and breathing raggedly, he hooked his arms back and grabbed tight hold of the top of the seat behind him. His muscles strained and popped with the strength of his excitement and the effort of keeping himself from fucking up into Spike’s mouth and hurting him.
“Fuck, baby, fuck! That’s so…I can’t…Shit!” He was very vaguely aware of the fact that he was babbling incoherently, but it seemed unimportant in the grand scheme of things. All that mattered was that Spike was sucking his brains out through his dick and he had absolutely no control at all. The other man was chasing his orgasm with fierce determination and he just had to sit back and let him.
It was the dirtiest blowjob he’d ever had. As well as the fact that they were in the parking lot of some swanky hall and probably on the verge of being arrested, Spike was just being filthy. He had his nose pressed into the patch of coarse hairs and was drawing the musky scent deep inside him as he moaned like a two-dollar whore around Lindsey’s cock as if it was the tastiest lollipop he’d ever had. He had one arm braced across Lindsey’s lap, holding him in place while he sucked him like a vacuum cleaner, and was mauling inside his jeans with the other. Lindsey could feel saliva trickling over his groin and he panted harshly when Spike’s teeth joined his tongue, scraping over his throbbing dick. His eyes rolled back at the sight of the blond head bobbing enthusiastically in his lap and Spike’s hips pumping as he humped the seat.
Every so often, Spike would draw back slightly and just concentrate on the head of Lindsey’s prick, laving at it and flicking his tongue back and forth over it like an animal lapping at a bowl of fresh water in a heat wave. Lindsey gripped the seat a little tighter, his knuckles white with stretched skin and the veins on his arms standing out over his straining muscles.
Even though Spike was technically the one in the submissive position, Lindsey had never felt so much at anyone’s mercy in his entire life. The other man was calling all the shots and he was just along for the ride. And what a ride it was. Fire blazed and lust shuddered through his body, heat pooling in his groin as the pleasure quickly built with an almost excruciating pressure. He was panting and grunting and eliciting a nonsense litany of “fuck”s, and his shirt was sticking to his sweat-slick body while his boots thumped against the footwell as he involuntarily twisted his legs; he could feel the orgasm approaching, practically ripped from him, and he had absolutely no illusions that he would be able to control or even delay it.
He knew before he even looked out of the windshield that Angel was watching him, lurking in a doorway and backlit so that only the glowing ember of his cigarette cast any relief on his dark, unreadable features.
Lindsey wondered for a moment whether he should tell Spike or, hell, if he should care that they were putting on a show, but then it was all too late and he suddenly forgot about Angel completely. After all, this wasn’t about him; it was about Spike using raw physical attraction and sexual fulfilment to convey something that ran deeper but which he was too vulnerable to express.
“Oh fuck...God damn it, babe, you’re gonna make me come so hard…FUCK!”
Lindsey literally convulsed as the ecstasy exploded through him, wracking his body with spasms and tremors. His chest snapped forwards as his back arched away from the seat, his feet left the cab floor as his legs drew up closer to his body and only Spike’s weight in his lap prevented his pelvis from bucking off the seat.
Even above his hoarse cries (which he was fairly sure must be disturbing the launch party) he heard the greedy swallowing sounds that Spike was making as his throat was flooded with hot salt.
The intense climax seemed to draw out forever, exhausting and draining him, and even as he came down from the high, thrills skipped through his system and made him shiver. Finally, he collapsed back against the seat, breathing harshly and flicking sweat-damp locks of hair out of his face. Although his body protested, he instantly let his leaden arms drop down to haul Spike off his cock.
Spike was dragged up and kissed with an almost ruthless gratitude, the lingering traces of cum sucked right off his tongue. Somehow, he was immediately straddling Lindsey and a hand was rubbing feverishly at the front of his Levis as he gasped against demanding, devouring lips. Giving the blowjob had been incredibly arousing, and he’d been rocking his hips for stimulation the entire time, so he was way too close to coming to worry about the fact that he was still clothed.
“Saw you fucking up against the seat, baby…So damned hot. You’re ready, aren’t you? Gonna come for me, huh? Gonna spray your pants?” murmured Lindsey right into his mouth, voice husky and roughened from calling out.
“Shit…Oh, fuck…fuck, Lindsey…” He thrust forwards, rutting against the other man’s hand, and felt the warm waves and bursting fireworks in his loins as his balls drew tight to his body and pumped out his release into his jeans.
Spent, he slumped against Lindsey and lavished lazy, wet kisses on his throat and jaw and mouth. “You’re bloody incredible, you are.”
Lindsey shook his head at him disbelievingly, giving a throaty little chuckle. “Christ, Spike…You just gave the best head known to man. I’m surprised I can even fuckin’ speak! Thank you. I’m your willing slave, seriously…”
Spike nuzzled him, all but purring as arms that still carried a light tremor were folded around his back. “Slave, eh?”
Lindsey’s muscles were aching fiercely, particularly those in his arms and stomach, and he was fairly sure that his glazed eyes had been unable to blink since his mind-blowing climax. In fact, most of his functions seemed to have temporarily off-lined. “Uh-huh, slave.”
“Well then, take a guess at wot I want you to do,” smiled Spike, running a hand through his long hair and gazing intently at him from less than six inches away.
Returning the grin, thinking that he could get used to making those blue eyes sparkle and darken with sated lust, Lindsey guessed, “Drive back to your place so you can fuck my tight, needy ass?”
Spike’s eyelids fluttered a little. “I think I’m gonna like this slave business.”
Lindsey held the back of his skull gently and pulled him forwards for a lingering kiss that bordered on tender. He drew away before the heat could come flooding back. “Sorry to say, but you’re gonna have to get outta my lap if you want me to drive.”
Pouting sexily, the blond complied and Lindsey tried to force his protesting body to slide over to the driver’s side. He vaguely refastened his damp jeans and fumbled in his pocket for the key.
“We’re all steamed up,” commented Spike, smiling at the foggy mist on the lower half of the windows.
“How Titanic,” muttered Lindsey sardonically, declining to mention that the steam hadn’t prevented Spike’s ex from observing the action.
Spike laughed, but then his features suddenly tightened with concern. “Is the truck gonna start? It didn’t last time after we fucked in the cab…”
Lindsey shrugged and petted the steering wheel lovingly. He turned the key, waited anxiously as the engine coughed and spluttered itself into turning over and then grinned triumphantly as it roared into life.
“Guess you’re growing on her.”
“Yeah? That’s a relief.”
“Sure is,” he replied as he reversed out of their parking spot and headed towards the street. “She’s a great judge of character and I wouldn’t want to have to dump ya.”
Spike rolled his eyes. “This is gonna be a bloody three-way relationship, isn’t it?”
Lindsey chuckled, tactfully not calling Spike’s attention to his choice of words and feeling an excited little rush despite himself.
“Sorry, Blondie. My loyalty will always lie with my girl.” He looked across at him as he braked for a stoplight, eyes sliding over him with promise. “You can have my body though.”
“Guess I can live with that,” winked Spike and he leaned over to kiss Lindsey. They both moaned as their mouths met, tongues sliding sensuously together and hands slipping up beneath clothing of their own accord.
The cacophony of blaring horns indicated that the light had changed and they drew back with reluctance, already panting lightly.
“So…how fast does this thing go?”
Lindsey hit the gas, sending up a cloud of fumes, and Spike leaned close to him, idly linking their fingers together and breathing in deeply to catch the complimentary scent of leather. He felt an added jolt of lust thump through his groin.
Yep. It was gonna get him off forever.
THE END.
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