Squeeeeeeeeee!!!!!
Ahem, sorry. I'm just excited about this because it's the sequel to two of my favourite fics, How to Ride and Leather and Gasoline!
If you haven't read them (and you don't need to in order to understand this - they're mostly just smut *G*), all you need to know is that Spike works for a studio choosing set locations and lives in NY, Lindsey is a redneck country singer who lives down south, they're in an established relationship thanks to a chance dirty fuck behind a bar...and Spike has a jealous ex....
This was supposed to be another one-shot, but it kinda got away from me and became 5 parts long...Oh well!!! Hope you enjoy nevertheless ;-)
Special shout-out to my honey![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
blondebitzand all her nagging and fabulous bribes! The fuck-ugly truck rides again, darlin'....
Title: Playing Dirty (Chapter 1/5)
Pairing: Spike/Lindsey
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: *sobs* So very not mine. I just abuse 'em.
Warnings: M/m relations (lots of...smutty smut smut, I tell you!), language, angst, fuckwittery...
Ahem, sorry. I'm just excited about this because it's the sequel to two of my favourite fics, How to Ride and Leather and Gasoline!
If you haven't read them (and you don't need to in order to understand this - they're mostly just smut *G*), all you need to know is that Spike works for a studio choosing set locations and lives in NY, Lindsey is a redneck country singer who lives down south, they're in an established relationship thanks to a chance dirty fuck behind a bar...and Spike has a jealous ex....
This was supposed to be another one-shot, but it kinda got away from me and became 5 parts long...Oh well!!! Hope you enjoy nevertheless ;-)
Special shout-out to my honey
blondebitzand all her nagging and fabulous bribes! The fuck-ugly truck rides again, darlin'....Title: Playing Dirty (Chapter 1/5)
Pairing: Spike/Lindsey
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: *sobs* So very not mine. I just abuse 'em.
Warnings: M/m relations (lots of...smutty smut smut, I tell you!), language, angst, fuckwittery...
Chapter 1
The old porch swing creaked in rhythmic protest, listing even more than usual to the right hand side with the weight of two grown men to contend with.
Spike thumped one still-booted foot onto the floor, trying to steady their motion and hoping vaguely that the old structure wasn’t about to collapse around their ears and dump them onto the rough wood of the porch.
Lindsey cursed and pushed back against him, gripping the back of the seat tightly from his position half leant over it. Grabbing the thinly padded wood between Lindsey’s spread hands to gain extra leverage and panting harshly, Spike thrust harder until the sound of their flesh slapping together was even louder than the alarming squeak of the swing.
Both of them were still fully clothed, jeans shoved down only just far enough to get the job done, and they sweated in the warmth of the late afternoon sunshine, their damp tee-shirts sticking together. Spike kissed and nipped almost desperately at Lindsey’s neck, nuzzling against him and whispering dirty curses in his ear.
Grunting with each of Spike’s thrusts as his excitement intensified rapidly, Lindsey reached down and fisted his own cock, body trembling as he hurtled towards orgasm. Spike hammered harder, his arousal compounded by knowing how close the other man was to the edge. He groaned as he felt Lindsey’s body jerking and spasming with short little shudders from its position trapped between him and the back of the seat.
Swept up in the vortex of Lindsey’s climax, Spike pounded into the slick, clenching, squeezing passage that was so fucking tight and perfect that he thought he could happily lose himself there for the rest of his bloody life. His pleasure flowed strongly and ebbed slightly with each stroke until suddenly it wasn’t ebbing and it was just rising and building and cresting and ohjesusfuck! His balls drew up close and pumped out their contents in long explosions of ecstasy, leaving him drained and sated.
Slumped against Lindsey, he threaded a hand into his hair and then used it to turn his head and kiss him passionately, their tongues tangling and breaths coming in quick, ragged pants against one another’s faces. Spike pulled free so that Lindsey could turn and they could wrap their arms around each other, lying half on the swing and half on the porch, which was now noticeably closer to the bottom of the precariously tilted seat.
“Hey, cowboy,” greeted the blond finally.
“Good to see you, baby,” grinned Lindsey. It had been over a month since the last time they’d managed to get together, and they hadn’t even made it inside the house before their lust had completely overtaken them.
Lindsey kinda hoped no-one in the neighbourhood had seen them, but he couldn’t seem to care that much.
They roused themselves and righted their clothing, neither of them mentioning the fact that apparently they fucked without protection now. Even without discussing it, they both knew that they were being faithful despite the long distances and absences that separated them. It hadn’t been a conscious decision so much as the fact that what they felt for each other had completely obliterated the desire for anyone else.
“So…” began Lindsey, picking Spike’s discarded shoulder bag up off the floor and taking his hand. “How’s about a beer?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Spike looked around the bar with mild disdain. “Next time you’re coming to New York,” he asserted.
Lindsey smiled. “Be a while before I can get that kinda time off work. You know it can be more ‘n a two-day drive each way.”
“Just fly,” he shrugged, taking a long swig of his beer and grimacing as he pulled his tee-shirt away from his sticky body. Fuck, but it was close down south.
“Spike…It’s expensive.”
“You can go Economy for three hundred bucks return,” he replied. He’d checked it out, not that he’d personally had even the slightest intention of flying coach.
Lindsey sighed, frustrated. He knew that Spike really didn’t appreciate what life was like down here, but it was still annoying to have to spell it out. “Babe, I don’t have three hundred bucks. Not if I wanna make rent.”
“I’ll pay for it. Fuck, I’ll pay for you to fly First; I don’t care.”
Lindsey gritted his teeth and looked intently at his beer bottle, picking at the label with his thumbnail. “I don’t want you to have to pay.”
“Why not? If we get to see each other, what difference does it make?”
Lindsey wasn’t sure that he could really articulate the difference it made to him without sounding both proud and petty. He wasn’t ashamed that he didn’t have money; the fact was that it was an almost conscious choice and he knew that Spike wouldn’t understand it.
With an SAT score of 1432 he’d had his pick of colleges and he’d selected Hastings in California, deciding that law offered a good living. He’d quit six months into the programme, hating the lifestyle, hating the people, hating being cooped up inside and missing open skies and miles of nothing but land. Repaying the scholarship had been a bitch, but as far as he’d been concerned it had been more than worth it.
He was happy doing manual work and playing with the band and barely making it from one pay check to the next. But when Spike offered to pay for him with that blasé attitude to money that could so easily have been his, he couldn’t help the nagging feeling that he’d let everyone down somehow.
“Can we drop it? I’ll find either the money or the time, one way or another.”
Spike sighed. “Fine. But the offer’s there.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
Although he was as irritated as hell about Lindsey’s stubbornness, Spike perceived that he’d made him miserable and remorse flooded him. Beneath the table – it still paid to be careful with their affection in a redneck bar like this one – the blond ran his hand soothingly up and down Lindsey’s thigh. “Look at me, pet.”
A smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, Lindsey raised his eyes and looked at Spike from beneath lowered lashes, flushing slightly at the expression of appreciation and affection that settled over the other man’s face.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous. Look, we’ll make it work, okay?”
“Okay,” he agreed, relieved for the reprieve.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“This is driving me nuts, Lindsey.”
The brunet pulled him closer, until they were sharing the same pillow and they tangled their legs together beneath the sex-rumpled sheet. He didn’t need to ask what Spike was referring to; they hadn’t been able to get together for nearly six weeks this time and Lindsey could only stay for three days.
“I know. Me too,” he replied apologetically, even though it was neither of their fault really. He kissed Spike’s forehead, then nose, then mouth, lingering there and parting lips with a sweet little lick of his tongue. They made out languidly for a few minutes, pulling away when insatiable desire reared its head yet again.
“We have to find a solution,” persisted Spike.
“Yeah, well what do you suggest?” demanded Lindsey more contentiously than he’d intended. He literally ached for Spike, fingers all-too-often playing over the glaringly empty left-hand side of his bed, dick hard and heart heavy. He’d noticed that he’d started looking at other men again, seriously considering accepting some of the offers he invariably got after singing with his band. Not because he wanted someone else, but because the person he did want was never there and a solution for that seemed frustratingly, agonisingly elusive.
“Time to stop dicking around, lover,” said Spike with a casual confidence that completely belied the debilitating fear and anxiety eating him up on the inside. “We’re either in it or not…We can’t keep doing this.”
Lindsey’s fingers stopped their idle movements over his back and he swallowed hard. “Are we really gonna talk about this?”
“We really are. We really have to.”
Hesitantly, the brunet nodded. He couldn’t quite decide whether having this discussion naked in bed was really dumb or really appropriate. But, when it came down to it, they’d procrastinated enough and it couldn’t wait another minute. “Okay.”
“I love you, you pillock,” blurted Spike, and fuck it but that had most definitely not been the way that he’d intended to say it the first time. However, it was too late to worry about that now and the declaration was not actually the point of the sentence, so he ploughed on bravely. “I can’t stand spending months apart and then only getting what feels like five fucking minutes with you. It’s destroying me. I want…a more permanent answer to the problem.”
As he finished, the words having tumbled out in a nervous rush, he bit his lip and looked worriedly at Lindsey. The other man considered him carefully for a moment, absorbing what had been said and blinking eyes that had turned impossibly round and blue. Spike thought that he might explode if Lindsey didn’t say something soon and he resisted the urge to have a mental breakdown and start gibbering like an idiot…Well, even more so.
Grateful that they apparently wanted the same thing, which was at least a step in the right direction, Lindsey rubbed his back and pushed him forwards until their lips met in a gentle, almost chaste kiss. “I agree,” he said carefully, “But I think we’re gonna find it difficult to work out the details.” Having responded to the issue, he focussed on what really mattered. “I love you too, by the way, you dumbass.”
Spike snorted and kissed him deeply, wrapping grateful arms tightly around his back. “Move in with me,” he whispered against sensual lips.
Lindsey sighed regretfully and shook his head. “You know I won’t move up here.”
“Why not?” Spike practically whined.
“I can’t live in a city like this. It’s not me, and I don’t wanna live somewhere faceless and claustrophobic and a million damned miles from home.”
“So, wot are you saying? If I want us to be together then I have to move to Arse-end, Hicksville?” snapped Spike.
Lindsey narrowed his eyes at him. “New York means nothing to you – you have no family here and you travel all the time for your work anyway. I belong down south; I don’t wanna leave my friends, my family, my band…I know it don’t mean much to you, but it’s important to me.”
Spike at least had the decency to look a little contrite. “I’m sorry. Look, it does mean something to me – anything that matters to you matters to me too, okay? But you know I won’t fit in and that the place will drive me crazy within a week. Besides…I couldn’t keep my job if I wasn’t close to a major airport so that I could at least get back here easily enough when I needed to.”
“And your job’s more important than me?”
Now it was Spike’s turn to glare. “I didn’t mean that and you know it. But the fact of the matter is, Lindsey, I earn ten times wot you do and I don’t think we can just write my job out of the equation.”
Bristling, Lindsey replied, “If money’s that vital, you shoulda stayed with your fuckin’ prick of an ex.”
Crazily enough, they had conducted their rapidly-turning-into-an-argument with their arms still wrapped around one another and faces close together. Now though, Spike shoved Lindsey away from him and launched himself out of bed, stalking angrily in the direction of the kitchen.
They never fought, not really. And throwing insults around to hurt one another was unfamiliar and painful.
Spike had just filled the kettle and furiously jabbed the ‘On’ button when he felt strong arms encircling him and a face pressed against his neck. “I’m sorry.”
He sighed and touched the arms caressingly. “Me too.”
For long minutes they remained as they were, swaying slightly, their naked bodies moulding so perfectly together that where they chose to live somehow seemed a bit petty, even though they knew it wasn’t. By the time they broke apart, the kettle had stopped steaming and Spike had to boil it again.
He rested up against the counter and tugged Lindsey’s hand until he came over and leaned into him, placing soft kisses on his jaw and idly rubbing their dicks together. Spike’s emotions were bouncing around confusingly; he was upset and hurt about what was going wrong, ecstatic about the fact that they were in love, happy to have Lindsey in his arms, afraid of the future, hopeful that their desire to be together would overcome the obstacles…He thought he might cry, overwhelmed as he was. Berating himself for being a total pouf, he let out a shuddering exhale.
Lindsey’s hands were suddenly rubbing down his sides and carding through his hair. He was all too conscious that right now they only had three days together and that he didn’t want to ruin it with fighting and conflict. “Baby…Forget this for now; we need time to think. Come back to bed with me, please?”
Spike studied him for a moment and then nodded, leaning into his touch and kissing the corner of his mouth. “On one condition.”
“Yeah? What’s that?”
“You shag me ‘til I can barely walk without a limp,” he smiled.
Lindsey chuckled, peppering little kisses over the blond’s face and reaching down to slap his ass hard enough to make him yelp. “Done. But first…”
“Wot?”
“Make me coffee, bitch.”
Raising his eyebrows in amusement, Spike pinched his nipple and bit him lightly on the jaw. “Don’t push your luck, cowboy.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Two months later they were no further forwards, and the strain was starting to show.
Spike was in his office, doing something that was far closer to brooding than he liked to admit. His last visit down south had reconfirmed for him that there was no way in hell he could live in Lindsey’s little backwater town. He got on well with his boyfriend’s family – who were shocked that anyone had been able to tame Lindsey, he could tell – but he would go stir crazy if he moved there. The mixture of endless tracts of rugged land and entirely claustrophobic little towns where everyone knew everybody else’s business just pissed him off.
Infuriatingly, Lindsey felt just as strongly about relocating to New York. They were becoming exasperated with one another and the long stretches of time apart, and Spike was beginning to fear that Lindsey might seek solace in someone else. Not that he could blame him; sometimes he felt like he could die from the pining and loneliness himself.
He was roused from his musings by a knock on the door. Since it was instantly opened without pause for a response, Spike knew immediately that it must be Angel.
“Will?”
“Come in,” muttered Spike sarcastically.
Angel sauntered over and settled himself casually into the visitor chair. “How’s it going?”
“Fine, thanks. You?” he asked, barely managing to remain pleasant and not snap at him to ask what the fuck he wanted. They’d retained a distant politeness since the night that Angel had met Lindsey and been shown in no uncertain terms that Spike had moved on from him.
“Yeah, good. Listen, I need you to go to LA to check out a location for City Limits.”
“Sure,” he shrugged. “When?”
“Next Monday. Should only take a couple of days.”
Spike ran a hand agitatedly through his hair, gritting his teeth. “No way. I categorically told everyone in the department that I needed to be in New York next week.”
Angel raised his eyebrows, frowning slightly. “These things come up when they do, you know that. What’s the problem?”
“Lindsey’s visiting,” he replied, too hacked off to dress it up or lie about it. Fuck, it had been nearly a year since he and Angel split; he didn’t really see the need to spare his feelings anymore.
“I’m sure he’ll understand,” replied Angel, trying to keep his tone even.
“No, he won’t. And I won’t ask him to; I said no travelling next week and I meant it,” he stated with finality.
“What’s the matter? Trouble in paradise?” asked the brunet mildly. He’d known why Spike had wanted the week in New York and had deliberately found an excuse to try to send him away, just for the malicious satisfaction of screwing up their plans. But this? Finding out that they were having problems? Much more satisfying.
Spike glared at him. “No. We just don’t get enough time to be together and this certainly isn’t helping.”
“Okay,” he shrugged. “I’m sorry. I’ll get someone else to do it.”
“Good,” answered Spike, slightly surprised. He’d expected Angel to be more difficult about it.
“No worries. You’ll have to bring him to the Black Desires Premiere next Friday if he’ll be around. He probably doesn’t get the chance to dress up very often.”
Spike smiled and shook his head at the jibe. “You’re such a dick sometimes.”
Angel grinned in return, getting to his feet. “Hey, you can’t blame me for getting a shot in every now and then.”
“Get the fuck out of here,” he said good-naturedly and Angel snorted and complied. Spike was glad that the other man seemed to be dealing with it better now, and at least he’d been reasonable about not sending him off to LA. He thought that he’d take Angel’s advice and invite Lindsey to the Premiere; it would be good for them to do something a bit different. And finally he didn’t have to worry about his lover and his ex having a fistfight or something.
Cheered, he sent Lindsey an SMS telling him how much he was looking forward to seeing him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
On Monday afternoon Lindsey arrived in New York earlier than planned after having a really good run traffic run and he couldn’t wait to see Spike, so he drove straight to the studio offices.
Ignoring the dubious look that the doorman gave him after watching him emerge from his beaten-up old truck, Lindsey made his way over to the reception desk by the security barriers.
“Hey. Could you tell me which floor Sp-…William Giles is on please?”
The attractive blonde eyed him critically. “Do you have an appointment?”
“Um, no. But he’ll wanna see me.”
“I’m sorry but we can’t let you through without a security badge, and we can’t issue that unless your name’s been booked on the system.”
“Well…Can you please book me onto the system, then?”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Didn’t we just cover this?” he asked with exasperation.
“I’m sorry, but –”
Deciding that he might just lose it if she explained to him again that he had to be booked on the system, frustrated that he was being kept away from Spike longer than strictly necessary, he interrupted. “Look, can you just call him and ask him to book me in, or send me a pass or abseil down the building or whatever the hell he has to do? Please?”
Although far too professional to glare, she gave him a decidedly frigid look as she tapped something onto her keyboard. Occasionally they had actors – which is what he must be, given his prettiness and inappropriately urban attire – visiting the main studio offices, but it was mainly only executives and that was the way they liked it. Trying not to look smug, she said, “I’m afraid Mr. Giles has left instructions not to be disturbed.”
“You know what? Never mind! I’ll just call him myself,” he snapped, dragging his cell out of his pocket. He cursed when he discovered that his battery was dead, realising belatedly that the expletive might not have been as ‘under his breath’ as he’d imagined. Too annoyed to be embarrassed by the censorious looks he was receiving, he did feel slightly uneasy about the fact that the security guard seemed to be considering heading towards him.
“Having issues?” inquired a voice from behind him with a mild, amused tone. He whirled around to be confronted by approximately the last person on earth he wanted to see right then.
“Angel.” He sighed and shoved his useless handset back into his jeans. “No, just…I can’t go see Spike because I don’t have an appointment.”
He would have loved to tell the big fucker to jog on again, but since his father owned the building he decided that it might be a fairly unwise move.
Angel regarded him, feeling suitably superior and more than a little satisfied that he’d been refused entry. Still irritatingly hot, but God, his hair was even longer now and he was still dressed like he was going to a fucking square-dance or something. At least he wasn’t wearing a hat. Eventually, after an appropriate gloating silence, Angel said in his best magnanimous tone, “Come on; I’ll take you up to his office.”
Lindsey was marginally surprised, although he grudgingly supposed that Angel probably wasn’t quite as petty and immature as he liked to privately imagine him to be. “Thanks.”
Angel signalled for the visitor barrier to be opened and led Lindsey through it. Once they were in the elevator, surrounded by uncomfortable silence, Angel leaned into a corner and crossed his arms, running his eyes over Lindsey.
“In town for long?” he asked.
“About a week,” replied Lindsey, looking up at the display panel and wishing that the numbers would flash by faster. It wasn’t just the fact that he was irked about being ‘rescued’ by Angel, although that was certainly a factor. He was impatient to get to Spike; this last month had felt long and he was excited that he’d been able to take enough holiday for them to spend some real time together.
“I noticed your…vehicle in the parking lot,” said Angel, conveying very clearly though his tone that he could think of some more accurate descriptions for the old pickup, but was being polite. “Do you always drive up? Must cut down on your time together.”
Lindsey looked at him sidelong. He was tired and a little pissed off and desperate to see Spike, so he knew that he wasn’t in the best of moods; however, he was pretty sure that Angel was being snide somehow. He forced himself to reply evenly, “I have flown, but I prefer to drive. We manage.”
Angel wrinkled his nose slightly at the thought of consciously choosing and preferring to spend a couple of days cooped up in the ratty old truck. “Right.”
Fighting hard to keep his expression neutral, Lindsey was very grateful when the doors slid open and Angel stepped into the reception area, tilting his head as an indication for Lindsey to follow.
Noticing the way that the other man was assessing the surroundings, Angel said, “Not been here before?”
Lindsey shook his head. “Only to drop Spike off. It’s…nice.”
“Nice?” repeated Angel with amusement, watching Lindsey over his shoulder as they headed down the wide, plush corridor.
“If you like this sort of thing,” shrugged Lindsey with a faint smile.
“And you don’t?”
“Just prefer being in the open.”
“I see. Well, I’m sure back home you’re not in much danger of being given a nice, clean, air-conditioned office to work in.”
Lindsey narrowed his eyes slightly. It was perfectly obvious that Angel doubted whether he was even literate, let alone capable of holding down a job that didn’t involve erecting fence posts and feeding livestock. Still, there wasn’t much point in being offended; who gave a shit what Angel thought? “Not really, no.”
Angel stopped outside a large office with William Giles engraved on door plaque and Lindsey almost snorted: it was cool and everything but anyone who knew Spike well wouldn’t consider him a brass plaque kind of a guy. Angel knocked and then waltzed straight in without waiting for a response, Lindsey noted with irritation.
“Will?”
Lindsey gritted his teeth. He knew that Angel was trying to make their relationship out to be as intimate as possible, and it really hacked him off.
“Yeah? Wot do you want, big guy?”
Angel allowed a smug expression to steal over his features as he looked back at Lindsey, as if the nickname had any significance. Lindsey arranged his features into his best ‘And I give a fuck, because…?’ expression, and then peered around him.
As soon as his eyes lighted on Spike, all his negative emotion drained instantly away, replaced by near-euphoria.
“You have a visitor,” he grinned, practically shoving Angel out of the way to get past him.
“Lindsey! You’re early!” Spike launched himself out of his chair and flew around the desk. They met mid-room, wrapping their arms tightly around one another and pressing their faces together. “It’s so good to see you,” he whispered, running a hand through Lindsey’s hair.
Angel cleared his throat very pointedly and they reluctantly released each other, although Lindsey left one hand resting on Spike’s hip in a gesture that wasn’t meant to be possessive exactly, but if Angel chose to see it that way then so much the better.
“I’ll leave you two to it,” he said, face inscrutable. “Will, we still need to meet later today.”
“Yeah, no worries. Thanks for showing him up,” he said genuinely, guessing that Lindsey had needed an escort to get through security and feeling marginally impressed that Angel had let go of his jealousy enough to do the right thing. He smiled at Lindsey, hands itching to touch him.
Angel nodded. “Well, I couldn’t just leave him lost and abandoned, could I?” he replied brightly, stifling a smirk when Lindsey glared at him from beside Spike, resentful of being referred to like some kind of stray puppy. He grabbed the door handle in preparation for departure. “Nice to see you again, Lindsey.”
“Yeah, you too,” replied the other man with a matching lack of sincerity. “Prick,” he added as the door closed, secretly hoping that his voice had carried.
“Hey! Don’t be mean; he brought you up here, didn’t he?” laughed Spike, instantly grabbing hold of him and pulling him close again.
Ignoring the question, Lindsey smiled and kissed the blond thoroughly, mapping his body out with his hands. “Baby, I’ve missed you.”
“Missed you too,” he responded, gasping as a busy hand grazed his rapidly hardening cock. “Jesus…” He kissed Lindsey hungrily, pulling him along as he walked backwards, finally spilling into his chair and dragging the brunet on top of him.
Straddling Spike, Lindsey groaned and rocked their hips together, the chair bouncing with their motion. “Shit, babe…Wanna fuck you so bad. I think I’ve given myself repetitive strain injury jerking off thinkin’ about you…”
Spike laughed against his lips, reaching down to palm his crotch. “Trust me, lover, I feel your pain. But the thought of you wanking with me on your mind is bloody hot.”
Lindsey's eyes rolled back as Spike pawed at him and he reached between them too in order to unfasten their pants. He knew they couldn’t really have sex in Spike’s office and that they shouldn’t do anything but, on the other hand, if he didn’t come soon then he might actually explode.
Once their jeans were undone, they ground their cocks together, Spike grabbing Lindsey’s ass to haul him closer and nestle their groins even more tightly against each other. Lindsey hooked his arms around Spike’s neck and grabbed the back of the chair, using the leverage to thrust up against him. They kissed greedily as they dry-humped, sucking and biting at each other’s lips and tangling their tongues together with broad, wet strokes.
One of Spike’s hands came into play at some point, the other still tugging gently and possessively in long brown hair. He pressed his palm against Lindsey’s dick and wrapped long fingers around both of their shafts, sliding his hand up and down to increase the already potent stimulation. Lindsey loved the way Spike’s foreskin felt gliding along his cock and he pressed eagerly forwards, enjoying the fact that the state of the art, ergonomic design of the chair assisted them in their bouncing motion.
Spike was incredibly turned on to be straddled by Lindsey, rocking his office chair so hard that he was concerned it might collapse. He pumped their cocks harder, knowing that they both had to come quickly and that it really wouldn’t be a problem; short, dirty, elicit encounters were one of their specialities.
“So fucking hot, pet…Are you gonna come for me, hmmm? Wanna feel your dick pumping against me, hosing me down with your spunk…”
“Shit! You’re so fuckin’ dirty, darlin’. I love it!” he gasped, thighs flexing even harder and faster as he fucked up against Spike. It was kinda messy and inconvenient, with lots of constrictive clothing getting in the way and making them sweat, but it was hot and horny, with the slick sounds of hand on dick and their harsh grunts and curses loud in the room.
When Lindsey felt them both trembling on the edge, he pulled back slightly so that they could watch between their bodies, both shouting aloud as they bucked against each other and cum erupted from them, splashing their clothing and sliding thick and hot over one another’s cocks and Spike’s fist.
Still panting, they kissed hard, pushing their faces together and dragging each other closer.
“Love you, you sexy bitch,” growled Spike against Lindsey’s lips, groping his ass thoroughly with the hand not covered in semen.
Lindsey laughed and kissed his neck, cupping his cheek and running a thumb over his lips. “Love you too, stud.”
They kissed for long minutes, finally breaking apart to look down ruefully at their clothing; Spike raised his soaked hand. “Er…great. Look wot you’ve gone and done to me!”
“Yeah, ‘cause you had nothin’ to do with it, huh?” snorted Lindsey, shouting in outrage when Spike wiped his hand on his shirt. He smacked it. “Hey!”
“Wot?! It’s not like you have to have important meetings this afternoon!”
Lindsey scowled down; at least the material was a light colour. Spike’s polo shirt was black and more than a few drops of spunk had managed to find their way onto it. Lindsey chuckled, his mirth intensifying with the thought that his boyfriend would be talking to Angel in cum-stained clothing.
“Shut it, you,” admonished Spike, kissing him idly as he tried to wipe the semen off.
As Lindsey refastened their pants, still sitting astride Spike, he asked, “How come you’re having a meeting with him, anyway? I thought you guys didn’t really work together?”
Spike shrugged. “We didn’t work well together when we were dating, and of course it was complicated after we broke up. Now, things are getting much better, so we’re on more of the same projects.”
“Huh.” Lindsey thought he knew who had made that decision. After all, Angel could no doubt request whatever the hell team he wanted on his productions.
“Wot?”
“Nothin’. Just seems a little strange, is all.”
“Why? He’s obviously over the whole thing now. That’s a good thing, innit?” He absently ran his hand up and down Lindsey’s thigh.
“Yeah, sure,” he agreed casually, kissing the blond and then extricating himself to avoid any further conversation on the topic. “Wanna get somethin’ to eat before you have to get back to work?”
Spike smiled and got to his feet, folding an arm around Lindsey’s waist. “Sounds like a plan, cowboy.”
Lindsey’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as Spike retrieved his coat. He didn’t think it was quite so obvious that Angel was over their relationship. Not at all.
END CHAPTER ONE.
Read Chapter 2
END CHAPTER ONE.
Read Chapter 2
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