Less than half an hour after Spike leaves, a tipsy Connor parks his car crookedly behind the nightclub where he’s arranged to meet Stevo. It’s still early but the music spills through the walls at full volume. His friend stands against the fire exit nodding to the rhythm and leaps towards Connor when he spots him.

“Did you get it??”

Connor sighs at the loud question. He fights an overriding compulsion to shake Stevo and knock that centre stage confidence out of him. Instead he nods once, steps out of the Land Rover then pulls the back door open. In the semi-privacy of the back seat, Stevo grabs his friend’s backpack.

“Hey! Calm the fuck down!” Connor wonders why his belongings seem to have become toys for everyone, although there’s no resistance from Stevo when he reclaims his bag. He can’t help comparing this to the thrill he felt when Spike taunted him by holding his ground earlier and he looks away from his friend as his cock automatically stirs.

“What? What you being so secretive about?” Stevo whispers sarcastically.

Connor roots around and tosses the baggie into Stevo’s lap. He finds he’s scanning the alley, tells himself he’s on the look out for vampires. After all, it’s been a few hours, and he really needs to kill something. He wonders whether he could use Stevo for bait when he glances at his friend, sees him rolling a pill between forefinger and thumb,

“I fucking love you, dude.” Stevo’s leg bounces up and down with excitement.

“Put that away, someone will see us.” This was said more from a desire for privacy than any need to remain this side of the law; fear and respect for authority, demons even, had disappeared over the last few months.

A snort. “It’s dark. Who’s gonna see? You should try this stuff…” Stevo waggles his tongue, apparently thrilled that the pill is stuck to the tip,” might make you see life ain’t so bad – least for a few hours.” He holds the damp pill again. “Gimme something to wash this down with.”

Connor wonders if having known Stevo since kindergarten was actually a good enough reason to not break his back. He pulls himself up on the head rest and leans into the front seat to grab a bottle of water from the foot well.

He freezes as Stevo’s hand snakes up his inner thigh.

“What are you doing?” Connor doesn’t dare move until he’s made a conscious effort to control the rage pumping him full of adrenaline. Don’t overreact, friends right? He reaches round and punches Stevo’s arm. The jock exclaims and watches amused when Connor settles as close to the door and as far away from him as he can.

Vampires, those Connor can handle, but this guy with his mixed messages…

“Hey, I’m just messin’ around.”

So, that’s ok – just being a jerk. Shame the contact made Connor so hard.

“What else you got in that bag? Lemme see.” Stevo lunges for the back pack again.

“You piss me off royally, you know that?” Connor peers up and down the alley again and decides he doesn’t care if his friend looks through his stuff—until he hears the sound of Stevo leafing through the mag. “Will you look at that!”

Stevo slides low into the seat and giggles. “Put the light on man so I can get a better look.”

“Jerk.” Connor’s tone is flat, resigned. He folds his arms across his chest and gazes out of the window - wonders if Spike might come back – bastard cleared off the second the guy turned up with the goods.

“You offering?  Cos I gotta tell you, I’m fucking hard right now. Hey, Conn…” Stevo’s nodding a little as the pill starts to take effect, “I’m hard…come on…” The large hand reaches for Connor.

“You’re forgettin’ something.” Connor’s voice is low, controlled, “We’re guys.”

“So? I’ll close my eyes, and I know you don’t give a fuck. I mean, this ain’t no cheerleader.” Stevo presses the magazine to Connor’s face, “Cheerleaders I like, but I’ll make do. Come on, dude, before I split my jeans already.” Connor doesn’t shrug off the tightening grip around his arm and allows himself to be pulled a little closer. “We’ve jerked off before – what’s the diff?”

The difference was that before he’d held his own cock – they were like two kids in a sandbox playing, ok jerking off, alongside each other.  In the darkness, if Connor half closes his eyes, if he squints at Stevo’s albeit natural blond hair – well it could be him. Him. A wave of lust forces Connor to fumble at Stevo’s groin as the magazine slides to their feet. Stevo moans, parts his legs and relaxes as Connor furtively pulls at the fly zip.

“Hey, take it easy…” Stevo gasps as unnaturally strong fingers grip him. Spike wouldn’t want him to be gentle – he wouldn’t need to hold back like this with him. Connor’s eyelids fall shut, and he imagines the vampire’s eyes, causing him to moan despite himself and shift so he can get a better angle. Stevo bucks against the sudden increase in momentum, “Fuck, fuck, that’s… keep going…fuck, fuck…” Connor shuts out the voice, inhales deep and brings back the scent of the vampire so unlike the trace of sweat and locker room squirming against him. Adrift in the memory, Connor finds his lips parting - so close to kissing, breathing in the undead stillness. Would it be like this? Would he know what to do? Would Spike breathe this heavily? Connor is startled when he feels Stevo still for a moment, “I ain’t kissing you, man, no fucking way.”  Suddenly the heat from the other man’s all too human cock seems to burn Connor’s hand, and it’s all he can do to keep the rhythm.

“You going to come or what?” Connor grumbles.

“Not if you keep talking.” Stevo pushes into Connor’s fist, frustrated by the friction in the wrong place, wrong tempo, “You haven’t done this before? But you’ve thought about doing this to…fuck yeah… me, right?”

“No and no.” Connor says truthfully. Wearily, he pulls one last time, and Stevo hisses as he comes, lifting his ass off the seat,  covering Connor’s hand and sleeve with a flood of semen.

“Man that’s gross!” Stevo chuckles, pushing Connor away unceremoniously, in a rush to zip himself. “But, thank you…I guess.”

“Sensitive lover.” Connor’s disappointed cock throbs still as he uses his left hand to pull out a Kleenex before he tosses the evidence through the window.

“Hey!” A dark figure leans against the car, “Yours I believe.” Black varnished nails hold the soggy tissue aloft. Connor swears his heart is pounding so hard now that Stevo must be able to hear it. He has no doubt that the vampire can.

“Pervy Punk Guy.” Stevo says behind him, “Take a hike, creep!”

“Shut the fuck up, Stevo. This guy’s a friend of mine.”

“Hey, creep! That true, you two widdle fwends?” Stevo’s giggling, nodding in self appreciation.

Spike glances at Stevo, who is well and truly stoned, and raises an eyebrow. The vampire straightens, and Connor can hear the faint click of the Zippo “You should know - my friend has a hell of a temper…” Connor tells an unconcerned Stevo.

“What? That little guy?”

Connor smirks, half hoping that Spike’s hungry – this would satisfy two cravings – to get rid of his friend and then his need to kill. But when he turns to look, Spike’s vanished, the sweet smell the tobacco dissipating in his wake. Had he been he waiting for him? He winds down the window some more and cranes to search for the vampire.

“Where’s your car? And you owe me cash, man…”

Stevo waves wearily, “Somewhere…”

Connor gets out and walks round the back of the car.  He pulls Stevo’s door open. “You need to go – I got stuff to do.” Not caring that Stevo’s probably not fit to drive. “Come on, get the fuck out of here!”

***

A few yards away, Spike grinds his cigarette into a wall and slams his fist hard into the brick. Fucking kid! What was he playing at hanging out with that tosser? And the drugs – was he taking them too or was this just a little work to help through college? Fuck what would Angel say?

He searches in his back pocket for the vibrating cell phone. Great.

“What?”

“Spike?”

“Who else is it going to be, you wanker?”

“I haven’t heard from you…”

“Well, I got nothing to say.” Spike pouts.

“You’ve seen Connor? How is he? Did you talk to him?”

 “I recall something about not talking to him…”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Spike…”

Spike always felt warm inside when the Irish brogue resurfaced – meant he was rankling Granpa.

“Spike- answer me!”

“Wasn’t aware there was a question, mate.”

Spike hears Stevo’s car pulling away. Guy looked stoned – hope he ends up in ER. Oo, phantom-chip moment. Spike touches his temple automatically and grins when he remembers. No harm in wishing ill on a twat like that – why should humans get all the fun? He’s zoned out, and Angel’s voice filters back to him.

“Spike if everything’s ok, come back. You’re needed here.”

Spike frowns. “Sire, I need to stay a few more days.”

A long pause while Angel considers the change of tone, the reference to family. Spike takes this time to consider his hand. For now Angel knew nothing and no damage had been done. Spike knew very little about the circumstances that led to the memory-wipe, and he hadn’t bothered to ask – he’d never been able to get close to the souled version of his grandsire. but his need to protect his own was reason enough to wait. If the spell was unravelling, if Connor had even a hint of his past, he would have to prevent…

“Tell me, Spike…”

“There’s not much to tell. See there’s this hot chambermaid at the place I’m staying. I fancy my chances, and I could do with a bit of fun.  God knows there isn’t any to be had at Wolfram and Tart.” Yes, continue with the snark, deflect the older vampire.

“Spike, I can’t deal with him remembering. Whatever it is you have to do, do it and come home. I need you here.”

“He doesn’t remember a thing.”

“What? Have you talked with him, I expressly said…”

“I know what you said, Angelus. I haven’t talked to him. He’s a regular kid, and he doesn’t know anything about his family, who he is.” Maybe the snark was ill-advised, after all. Spike grits his teeth. But the kid knows about vampires, feels he has a mission to kill them – where does that come from? How long before one of them tells him something about Angelus? How long before he meets an old one who recognises the Master Vampire’s scent?

“And that’s good. It’s what I wanted…”

“It is. The kid’s happy, nothing like his Dad, nothing like his Mum. I mean, if he had anything of you in him, he’d be able to sniff out a vampire if he got close and I’ve been close, I stood right by him at a coffee house and he didn’t so much as look over. I want to keep an eye on this kid he hangs out with; you know the type, big fucking shoulders, thinks the world revolves around his dick. I got a feeling he might be getting Junior into the wrong crowd is all, want to satisfy myself.”

“But he’s ok, not getting into trouble?”  Angel’s voice is thick with emotion. Spike realises he needs to appease his sire before he decides to find out for himself.

“Trust me, you don’t have a thing to worry about. He’s a normal kid, Angelus.” Bugger it, he couldn’t resist, “He bought a magazine today, you know the kind I mean…?” Spike giggles helplessly and switches his phone off; the delightful sound of his Sire’s swearing music to his ears.

***

Spike appears from the shadows of the alley behind the bar as Connor expects.

“You alright, kid? Row with your boyfriend?”

Was he being nice? No he wasn’t being nice, head thrown back, tongue nestling for a split second near his deadly incisors.

Connor watches the vampire saunter towards him each step along an invisible tightrope between their groins. Then he’s close – really close so he can smell blood on him. He’s fed recently. Connor starts back and reaches for the stake wedged in the side pocket of his khakis. He hesitates – something odd – the blood doesn’t smell right.

“You gonna do it now, Junior? Do I need to have a last smoke?”

“You’ve fed.”

Spike frowns. “Connor…” his voice a warning.

“How do you know my name? Why are you stalking me? What the fuck is this?” Connor’s hand scissors around Spike’s throat, and he holds him against a wall. Spike doesn’t struggle.  Instead he places his hands slowly, deliberately on the human’s shoulders. Connor frowns, inspects the diaphanous skin and turns towards the teal eyes. “Do I know you?”

Spike’s fingers loosen their grip as Connor relaxes his hold on the vampire’s cool throat. He watches Spike’s lips part, and Connor fancies the vampire’s eyes flicker to amber for a moment as he waits. Connor’s fingers take on a life of their own as they move slowly towards the dip at the vampire’s throat. Any moment now the vampire will stop him – he seems to consider it for a moment, but now his groin is pressing into Connor’s thigh making the human’s back arch.

Lips so close now. “I can smell the blood. “ Hard when he thinks of it, furious too. He wants to kill this bastard. Gentle finger tips find the neck of Spike’s t-shirt. The vampire looks like he’s sunk into a warm bath, shocked yet soothed he raises his mouth, parts his lips, daring Connor to move. Unafraid, Connor tugs at the cloth and brings his lips close to Spike’s, so close to the mouth of a killer…

***

Spike forces his eyes to stay open, quashes the fear reflex that wells up in his throat as he locks eyes with Angelus’ son. He flinches as Connor’s hand releases its grip on his throat and guides him closer. Maybe not such a good idea, maybe he should stop now before…and as his eyes close, he feels the warm lips, tentatively touch his own. So long since he’s been with family, so long since Drusilla, and the irresistible scent, the sense of who he is and where he belongs forces his hips to meet Connor’s, to come home, as the human’s warm tongue breaks through the last vestige of common sense and connects with his own, and like Narcissus, the glimpse of his own distorted reflection, the pull of family, lures the vampire into the depths. Spike finds his hands have slid under Connor’s sweater, and he marvels at the fine muscles under the surface. Aware this boy could snap his head off with one movement if he only knew he could, Spike draws the eager tongue further inside him. His eyes start open when it brushes against his incisors for a second, as sensitive as the tip of his cock.  He gasps in surprise. Forgotten this – forgotten the feel of a man. So long, so good, this heat, this strength. Connor’s arm is crushed between them still at the neck of his T, and Spike pushes him away for a second then guides Connor’s fingers towards his belly.

Reflections 7