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Truth Denied

By: PervertedPages
folder -Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Spike(William)/Xander
Rating: Adult ++
Chapters: 64
Views: 22,765
Reviews: 75
Recommended: 0
Currently Reading: 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
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Chapter 5

Title: Truth Denied 5/?
Pairings: Spander (eventually)
Appropriate Ratings: NC17 overall but this chapter... PG13 with plenty of mentions of stripping and boys touching, and same sex attraction
Warnings: Boys lusting after each other, nothing really, I don't think.
Disclaimers: Not my characters. I make no money off this, I'm just playing. I promise to give them a bath and thorough cleaning when I’m done! Joss Whedon is my lord and Master. All hail Joss Whedon.
Short Summary Of Chapter: Xander gets some news, and gets down to work.
Beta: Tamakin Any errors are mine and mine alone.

The club looked so different with the bright overhead lights turned on and void of all customers. Also oddly quiet over the din of employee’s giggling, talking and yelling. He felt awkward standing in the middle of the room as people bustled all around him, intent on various tasks. He wasn’t sure what to do with himself as people ran around, cleaning, polishing, repairing. This club was a lot cleaner than… well… every club he’d ever been to. I guess Spike has a thing about being clean… or the other owner does…

He saw a familiar face behind the bar and made his way over, spinning around the rushing employee’s with grace and careful deliberation, leaving them enough room to do whatever it was they were doing while still not touching him. The bartender watched, amused and intrigued, eyes dancing with mirth.

“Hey, uhm… I’m here to see Spike,” Xander spilled out as soon as he got close to the bar.

“He’s waiting for you backstage,” he replied, drying a glass with a towel, jerking his chin in the general direction of the stage.

“Thanks! Hey… uhm… I can’t keep calling you “The Bartender”,” Xander admitted with a shy smile.

“And I can’t keep calling you the “hottie the manager went home with”,” he said with a slow smirk. Is he flirting with me? “I’m Chad.” He held out his hand. Xander took it, gave it two carefully measured pumps, trying to ignore how Chad’s fingers strayed and tickled the sensitive skin of his inner wrist. Uh yeah… I think he’s actually flirting with me.

“Xander,” he replied, nodding, and skipped out, trying not to shake or rub his hand free of the soft tingles jumping up and down under his skin. He didn’t want to insult Chad, his only tentative friend in such a long time, so he just walked through the ‘Employee’s Only’ door and went to hunt for the elusive peroxide blond. I was being flirted with. While in a bar. Not that it was open. But he was definitely flirting!... wasn’t he?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

He found Spike stretching and warming up backstage. He tried hard not to be obvious about his staring, suddenly thankful he was no longer a teenager and able to control his erections. Old age had some benefits. Alright fine, older age.

He couldn’t help but notice becoming human hadn’t taken away Spike’s agility or grace, his balance was still impeccable… and he was obviously very very bendy. Xander watched him slide gracefully into a wide split, grabbing his toes and pulling himself flat, forehead to his shin, and repeating on the other side. Very… bendy… Is it getting warm in here?

A smirk teased Spike’s lips, “Much easier to get warmed up if you actually move…,” he curled his tongue behind his teeth, “Unless you’re warm enough already?”

“WHAT? No! No, I need… to… water! I need to fill my bottle. I’ll be, uh… right... uh... back.” Xander left to fill his bottle at the sink, mentally slapping himself repeatedly. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid! He sighed to himself, wanting nothing more than to swirl down the drain, never to come up again. Why oh why can Spike turn me into a gibbering idiot? It’s like he’s my kryptonite! Not that I’m Superman, I’m so not, but he just. AGH! Stupid ex-vampire! With your blond hair, BLEACHED blond hair! And and and… bendy… bendy, whoa bendy He hung his head, trying in vain to think of anything else.

When he got back, Spike was standing, bouncing on his toes, wearing baggy grey sweat pants and nothing else. Spike shot him a quick look and Xander took it as a cue to get ready. He shed his clothing to match Spike, his own sweat pants a well worn navy blue, looking like an almost drab grey from all the washings. He warmed up quickly, grimly trying not to think of how much more flexible Spike was than him, or what such flexibility meant for other… activities. He just warmed up as best as he could then straightened up, waiting for direction. I’ve never been taught how to dance before… this is going to be interesting. He’s not going to touch my naughty places, is he? Like at the tailor, to get a suit, where he touches the boy bits, and… no wait, that was Friends.

“There’s going to be… a small change in plans,” Spike finally said, after an excruciating minute of silence. Xander frowned, looking at Spike’s almost guilty expression.

“What do you mean, a change in plans?” Xander tried to fight back the panic clawing for its freedom deep inside the pit he’d forced it into before leaving his apartment. Thoughts of forced prostitution or just being told to get the hell out danced in his head. Oddly the forced prostitution thoughts, while still laced with blind panic, made little-Xan twitch. Ugh… I’m a perverted little loser, aren’t I? Xander thought in self disgust.

“Nothing bad Xan, just the owner can only get in tonight before he goes off on a vacation with his husband for three weeks.” Spike spoke calmingly, but noticed it didn’t do any good quelling the panic of his old nemesis.

“TONIGHT??? I have to be ready for TONIGHT? Are you serious? You’re joking, right? Because I will NOT be ready in a couple of hours! This is not gonna work out, thanks for all your help, but I think I’m just going to go home and try to sell my body to science. They still do that, right?” His hands were shaking too hard to button his shirt, he felt like crying. Things were finally started to ease up on him, and now this? Whatever god had chosen him as their personal butt-monkey was definitely off his Christmas card list!

“Xander, calm down, stop, just stop!” Spike grabbed Xander’s shaking hands in his firm ones. “Breathe, just take a deep breath and slowly let it out, you’re alright, just breathe.” Xander nodded quickly and followed the instructions, swallowing back a sob.

“Like I said, small change in plans. I’ll be dancing with you, okay? It’ll be fine Xan, you’ve danced before, you came here with your bag o’ costumes ready to dance last night with no prep work. I’ll be with you, I’ll catch you if you fall, I’ll help keep you in character an’ in step, it’ll be fine… you just have to trust me. Do you trust me, pet?” He kept his ice blue eyes locked on Xander’s, bringing him back to the here and now instead of where his panic driven mind had taken him.


Xander nodded hesitatingly, a barely visible motion of his head, before clearing his throat and nodding a little more confidently. “I’ll help you out, right? An’ if this don’t work, we’ll look for somethin’ else for you to do. No charity, promise, just one friend helpin’ another get back on his feet, alright?” Xander nodded again. He could at least try to do it. Maybe he’d make some tip money before they booted him out for falling flat on his face. Maybe a couple of bucks for that banana… or some bread. He still had the mustard for sandwiches.

“Good, now! We’ve work to do. Grab a sandwich from the cooler, you can’t dance on an empty stomach or you’ll keel over. I don’t want you passin’ out from low blood sugar or something.” He smiled softly, encouragingly, relaxing a hairsbreadth when Xander unwrapped a ham and cheese and began to eat. The cooler was full of chips, sandwiches, fruit juices and water. They wouldn’t have to stop their training until they were done. Hopefully they’d be done before the lights went out, or this was going to be one hell of a short bout of employment.
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