London Still

 

 

1.

Sugar Kane was something alright. Something alive and blazing when I was so dead inside and out. Did she actually care a bit about me? I liked to believe she did. I hung around her concerts a lot once we’d hooked up, staring. Being stared at. I was used to it, what with the flames erupting from my chest and all. Caused some trouble here and there, mostly from fans who couldn’t believe their idol was knocking boots with something like me. Fuck ‘em. She had the right to hook up with whoever she chose to – and that was me.

2.

Quick stopover in England, London specifically for a hoorah and then on to Africa. That was the plan. Shut up, I make bloody good plans! I just lose my patience with them. This time, I wasn’t going to. This plan I’d see through to the bitter, bloody end. Because of the Slayer. God, I was glad that the poof wasn’t around to see me like this. William the Bloody. Spike. Whining around a Slayer just like he had, the big Irish bastard. I’m a complete bitch in love, always have been. This time the bitch was going to bite back.

3.

Somehow I always wound up with blondes. Sugar was a not quite cuddly armful, her image demanding thinness and no padding which would end up being visible. Beautiful girl though, cynical and working the media machine for all she was worth. Made me wonder if that was how I would have ended up, if I’d stayed with the band and we’d gotten ahead. Probably. I was cynical enough about everything else. Lurking around the backstage area as she went on stage, the press of the screaming minds around me made me long for the quiet of before my mutation manifested.

4.

Dropped into a club, just for shits and giggles, to see what I could do even with the bloody chip inside my head. And they called me evil. Compared to some humans, I was barely even sinful. Far as I was concerned, all I was looking for was a bit of human fluff, something to fuck and leave behind. Just like they’d be looking to leave me behind. I wasn’t expecting to see him – Christ, I was surprised I even remembered him. Almost had my hand on his shoulder before he turned around and I recoiled from the flames. Mutant.

5.

A tickle of something I didn’t quite recognize ran across my shields, getting closer and closer. It reminded me of something but I couldn’t remember what. It got so close I turned around sharply, jacket flaring around my hips and psifire blazing. All I could do was blink for a moment. Shocked.

*Spike?*
The vampire he’d fucked in what seemed like a lifetime ago. God, so long. He’d been whole and somewhat happy. Spike had been one of his nights of rough trade. What was he doing here? Looking like that at him? How dare he fucking get that look?

6.

“Bit of a surprise, mate,” I said, quirking the eyebrow and smirking. As angry as the boy was, he still wanted me, I could smell it on him even in the cloud of pheremones that was a nightclub anyway. Not that it was a surprise. “I’d ask how ya been doing, but that would be fucking stupid.” Looked him up and down again, pantsbutton undone and trail of dark hair leading down into the depths. Toned, pale as he had been before and just as pretty. Only angrier. “I’ll cut to the chase then – wanna fuck?” Pretty angry Gothic boy.

7.

Like watching my past come back to haunt me, but that voice curled its way down through my memories and straight to my cock. That night...one night. That’s all he’d wanted. At least Spike was honest about what he wanted – he wasn’t sure Sugar was the same. Of course, that could be just the scars speaking. Which was more then likely. This could fuck him up very badly.

But the temptation was too much.

*I’ll just text me gel.*

Enjoyed the startled expression he got from using his telepathy. He’d text Sugar not to wait around, then they’d get gone.

8.

Once we were out of the club and down a sort of private alleyway, he handed me a tube from the inside of his jacket, eyes glittering at me before he turned and dropped trou. Hands against the wall, legs spread but hobbled and cloth bunched around his knees. The radiance from the fire inside him made me wish for a moment I still wrote poetry. Rough prep, lube on my fingers as I fucked him with them before applying more of it to my hard cock. Sank my fangs into his shoulder as I slid home inside his body.

9.

Icy fire in my shoulder as I shuddered, crying out into his mind as he thrust into my arse. Hard and rough, dirty sex in the alleyway and I writhed against the brick in pleasure. Surprised to find how much I’d missed this. Cold hard body blanketed against my back, harsh voice whispering obscenities into my ear as I took what he had to give, liking it more if it left me bleeding. I dropped one hand to my erection, closing my fingers around my aching prick as Spike used me. I could feel both of our orgasms hit us.

10.

Blazing furnace inside, even more then he had been and tighter. How long had it been since he’d given himself this? Ignored the thought and thrust harder into his willing body, almost pounding him against the brick wall of the alley. Murmurs and sobs cascading in my brain before we both came, died the little death and were reborn. It was like electricity in my mind. Something he did, with his powers. Christ, mutants. We cleaned up and went our separate ways again. It was a nice memory to take into the wilds of Africa, and then I lost myself.

 

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