Need

DISCLAIMER and INFORMATION
Author: ElizaShaw
Archived: My website, http://home.earthlink.net/~elizashaw/ as well as at StepAwayFromMyXander, The Island's Library, and The Wonderful World of Make Believe. Please do not archive elsewhere without asking permission (that said, I am pretty easy, so don't be afraid to ask!)
Disclaimer: All characters and references to BtVS and AtS storylines belong to Joss and Mutant Enemy and all the other folks with valid legal claims. Not mine. No claims on 'em, and no money has ever been made or ever will be made from playing with 'em, but innit fun?
Pairing: A/X
Spoiler Warnings: This takes place after the end of BtVS, season 3, before AtS season 1 begins. It references dialogue in BtVS, season 4, ep 1, but only by building on a comment made by Xander about his summer.
Summary: This is a sub-story for my perpetually unfinished epic 'Turnabout' -- essentially, it's a scene between Angel and Xander that grew well beyond it's place in the larger story and was determined to stand on it's own. Angel stumbles across Xander at the Fabulous Ladies Night Club and together they explore one another's needs.


~August 1999~

Angel headed for his car. The trip to Oxnard had been the expected waste of time. After spending hours sorting through the texts in the back room of a dingy second-hand book store, he finally gave up his search to replace the text on demonic migration patterns that had been destroyed by a spilled mug of blood and whiskey during a rarely indulged in night of drunken self-pity. He had heard that this bookshop special in in occult texts, but the trip to Oxnard for what he had expected to be a fruitless search was more about penance for his over-indulgence than about actually needing the text.

As he headed down the street, he glanced around out of habit, keeping himself aware of the night and its inhabitants. A figure crouched against the wall of a buildingght ght his sight, and he frowned as he took in the man’s profile. He narrowed his eyes. What was Xander Harris doing in Oxnard? He looked at the building and realized that the plain black door Xander crouched next to must be the back entrance to the Fabulous Ladies Night Club. Then his eyes widened in disbelief as he watched the boy stand up and stretch before walking through the door into the club. While the dim alley light might hide the boy’s ensemble from human eyes, Angel could make out the skin-tight brown leather chaps that laced up the outside of the legs and the blousy violet shirt that hung open, baring a portion of Xander’s chest.

Angel’s time with the Sunnydale gang had convinced him of the overall innocence and purity of the group. While in Giles the vampire recognized unspoken realms of experience, he could never help but see the teenagers as children, fundamentally untouched by the darkness that inhabited the small town. So what was Xander doing at a strip club in an unsavory section of town?

Unwilling to let the first familiar figure he had encountered in weeks escape without discovering what he was up to, Angel abandoned the idea of immediately returning to LA and walked to the front of the club. He pulled open the dingy blue door and was immediately assaulted by the pulsing techno beat and flashing lights that comprised the atmosphere. Lone men occupied a few of the tables while other tables had as many as eight women crowded around, and the patrons divided their attention between their drinks and the transvestite trio gyrating on the stage. Angel pointedly avoided looking at the performers as he made his way to the bar. He scanned the crowd for Xander, but didn’t see him at any of the tables.

“Calgon take me away, mmm-mm.” Chris, the bartender, dragged his gaze up and down Angel’s body, lingering briefly over his crotch.

“What?” Angel was fairly certain that the human in front of him wasn’t summoning a Gvortak demon, but one never knew.

“Nothin’, sugar. Just admi the the view.” He stared appreciatively. “What can I get for you?”

“I’m looking for someone.”

“You’ve found someone.” Chris winked.

“Right. Actually, there’s a specific someone I’m looking for. I’m sort of a…well, that is…I ….he’s someone I used to know.” Angel found himself flustered as he tried to determine the most effective way to proceed. He doubted Xander would want any of the Sunnydale gang to find him here, so it was possible that the boy would be using a false name, in which case, Angel didn’t even know who to ask for.

“So describe this someone.” The bartender went back to cutting limes into wedges. “Most of the guys in here are regulars.” He glanced back up at Angel, “but not all of them want to be found here. Then again, look at you. Who wouldn’t want to be found by that body?”

“He’s a young guy, about eighteen, dark hair, brown eyes. Around six feet tall. His name is Alexander Harris. You know him?”

“Sure. That’s Alex.” The bartender grinned and a mischievous gleam appeared in his twinkling green eyes. “What d’ya want with Alex?” This would be too good. A friend of Alex’s showing up tonight of all nights.

The problem was that Angel didn’t know what he wanted. Coming in after Xander had been a spur of the moment decision based purely on the gut feeling that the boy did not belong in a strip club dressed the way he was.

“Can I see him?” He settled for a simple request.

“Normally, that might be a bit of a problem since he’s working in the back, but tonight,” Chris leaned on the counter lowering his voice suggestively, “you’ll get to see him along with the rest of us. Right up there under the lights.” He shifted his gaze toward the stage.

“He’s a dancer?” Angel choked the words out.

“Nah,” Chris laughed, “He works in the kitchen washing dishes and such. But I heard that Susie dragged him in to take Raoul’s place tonight. Kid’s got a soft spot ten miles wide and she handed him the ‘club’s gonna go out of business if we have to cancel the number’ line. She’s right that it does become one of the biggest drawing nights since guys dance only on Thursday nights. It’s ladies every other night of the week, so losing one of the big numbers for tonight would have been hard to recover from.”

Angel found himself nodding wordlessly.

“Can I get you that drink now?”

“Bushmills. Double. Neat.” Angel took his whiskey and found a stool end of the bar next to the wall. From this shadowed nook, he had a clear view of the stage and most of the room. Xander worked here. The dishwasher Angel could almost understand, even though the environment still jarred him as an inappropriate place for the sunny teen. But part of his mind refused to believe that he would see Xander Harris dance. No, not just dance, strip. He gulped at his drink. Chris kept an eye on the level of the glass, and as Angel finished one, the bartender attentively brought the next. He couldn’t wait to see how this dark hunk would react to seeing his friend perform Raoul’s number, and he suspected the poor guy was gonna need more than a double to absorb the shock.

As the transvestite trio collected feather boas that had been discarded over the past few minutnd end exited the stage, the lights in the club dimmed further, and the strobe lights stilled completely. Abruptly, the lights went out entirely, and the sound system cut off. Angel tensed for trouble, but after fieconeconds, a single spotlight blazed on to reveal two figures on thage.age. A tall, muscular strawberry-blond dressed in black leather pants, heavy Doc Martin boots, and tank top comprised entirely of fine metal rings in a parody of chain mail stood in the cente the the stage. He held a whip in one hand and the end of a black leather leash in the other. He stared out at the audience, impassive. At his feet knelt another man with the other end of the leash fastened to a two-inch wide black leather collar around his neck. The collar stood out starkly against his tanned skin. In place of the violet shirt that Angel had seen in the alley, a form-fitting tank top with a neckline that plunged below the waist of the chaps clung to the man’s pecs and abs. Bare skin from neck to navel gleamed in the spotlight. The tank was made of the same dark brown leather as the laced chaps. The kneeling figure also faced the audience but with his head bowed in submission.

Angel took in this tableau in the brief second between the spotlight snapping on and the music kicking in. His disbelief hit a new level as he recognized Xander as the submissive in this little scenario. At the same time, he shifted uncomfortably as he began to grow aroused not only by the beauty set free from those god-awful bright and baggy clothes the boy usually wore but also by his graceful submissive posture. Angel began to imagine running his own powerful hands over that soft leather, reveling in the silent obedience, bringing pleasure-pain to the firm skin. He shook his head minutely to rid his mind of such thoughts, but he could not tear his eyes from the scene unfolding on the stage.

The music began to pulse through the loudspeakers, and the lighting shifted. As the spotlight remained on the two figures, slow splashes of pale red light traced slow, intertwining circles across the stage.

I would die for you
I would die for you
I’ve been dying just to feel you by my side
To know you’re mine

The tall blond made the first move, gyrating hips in time with the beat. He strode in front of Xander and began backing down the catwalk that jutted from the stage into the audience. He kept his grip on the leash and held out his other hand to indicate that Xander was not to move with him, so as the leash pulled against his collar, Xander instead began to stretch his neck and then gradually lower himself to the stage until he was fully prostd bed before his ‘master.’

I will cry for you
I will cry for you
I will wash away your pain with all my tears
And drown your fear

In a sudden movement, the blonde dropped the end of the leash and lashed out with the whip, cracking it just above Xander’s head. At that signal, Xander rolled onto his back and stretched his arms over his head, fingers clasped. The blonde moved to stand over the prone figure and theyred red at one another, hips moving in a synchronized rhythm to the pounding beat. Angel shivered as he watched the whip being trailed across Xander’s cheek and then down his torso to end with a gentle flick at his crotch. The two figures continued to move together as Xander followed the blonde’s hand signals and flowed sinuously from lying on his back to kneeling to standing. Their eyes locked until Xander stood completely.

I will pray for you
I will pray for you
I will sell my soul for something pure and true
Someone like you

Xander stood with his back to the crowd and front plastered against the blond with hips rocking together. The blonde slid his hands up Xander’s sides and then down his arms to grasp his wrists. He held them together in one hand while grasping the trailing leash in the other. As he swiveled Xander around to face the audience, he wound the leash around his wrists, loosely binding them behind his back. He pressed his hand to Xander’s head, forcing him to look down.

See your face every place that I walk in
Hear your voice every time I am talking
You will believe in me
And I will never be ignored

He tucked the whip into the boy’s bound hands and then, standing behind Xander and continuing to grind his crotch into his leather-clad ass, he slid a hand down each side of Xander’s torso until his fingers came to rest together over Xander’s groin. Their hips continto gto gyrate in unison as the blond slid his hand into the front of Xander’s pants and pulled out a small, sheathed blade. He raised the knife in front of Xander’s eyes and pulled the gleaming blade from the sheath.

I will burn for you
Feel pain for you
I will twist the knife and bleed my aching heart.

He moved quickly to Xander’s right and slid the blade just beneath the tie at the top of the leather chaps before making one quick slice down Xander’s leg. The leather edges gaped apart, held on only by the tie at the waistline. The blond moved over to the other leg and made the same swift cut, this time moving from ankle to waist. He then traced the knife down Xander’s torso before returning it to its sheath and tucking it in the back of his own leather pants.

I will lie for you
I can steal for you
I will crawl on hands and knees until you see
You’re just like me

The blond once again moved behind Xander and ran his hands suggestively over his torso, pinching nipples and then bringing his hands to rest on the ties that held the gaping chaps in place. He gave a sharp tug on the knots and the chaps flew from Xander’s body revealing the brown leather tank as a bodysuit that narrowed to outline his prominent erection in a zippered pouch in the front and a g-string in back. In another fluid movement, the blond plucked the whip from Xander’s bound hands and cracked it over his head. At that signal, Xander sank first to his knees and then leaoverover backwards until his shoulders touched the floor.

Violate all my love that I’m missing
Throw away all the pain that I’m living
You will believe in me
And I can never be ignored

This position offered the audience a view of Xander’s raised hips and jutting erection as he slowly humped the air in time to the music. His ‘master’ moved in front of him, flicking the whip once more. Xander pulled himself upright, still kneeling and half-thrust, half-slid his way toward his the towering blonde. They continued this teasing play down the catwalk, the blond moving backwards and flicking whi whip and Xander sliding forward, hips thrusting after him.

I would die for you
I would kill for you
I will steal for you
I’d do time for you

As they reached the end of the stage, the blond stalked behind Xander and reached down and yanked on Xander’s collar, pulling the man up on hneesnees. Again he ran the whip over Xander’s torso as he pulled the dark head back to rest against his gro Xan Xander’s exposed neck sent chills down Angel’s spine and he could see the blood vessels pumping beneath the stretched tendons.

‘Cause I believe in you
I believe in you
I would die for you.

The blond gave a final snap of the whip on the last note of the song, and Xander immediately slid forward to rest his forehead on the floor, still kneeling, in a gesture of complete submission as the blond stood over him, one leg on each side of the prostrate boy’s gleaming chest. The crack of the whip faded, and the lights snapped off and then returned gradually to the club’s usual lighting with colored strobes flashing. The stage remained empty and patrons chatted excitedly about the dancers, comparing the controlled power of the tall blond and the dark beauty of his slave.

tbc