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Chance Meeting ~ Spike

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He learned very early on what it took to keep the boy happy. Not like he was complaining. Bang up introduction to Sunnydale to come across this one finishing off his parents. It was a good job he wasn't a particularly fastidious person cos the boy was a messy eater, no two ways about it.

Striding along through the residential areas, just getting the lay of the land, when he spotted two damned near luminous green eyes staring at him from near the ground. He let his curiosity drag him closer, shifting to game face so the pup knew right away he wasn't looking at prey.

The scent of blood had been thick and cloying in the air and the savagery of what the boy had done reminded him of his early days when he'd been freshly turned. It was all about gorging yourself, the thick hot blood pumping down your throat, the weakening struggles of your prey adding to the whole experience. Looked like the boy had been bathing in the blood – he was covered in it, heavy droplets falling from his chin and nose from where he had buried his face in the stomach of his hapless victim, tearing out the blood rich softness of vital organs so that he could feast.

That could well have been the end of it, curiosity assuaged except there was something – something about the thick untamed hair; the eyes that stopped glowing green but shone in the lamplight a warm enticing hazel; the broadness of shoulders not quite grown into. Again, that could have been it – a fleeting attraction, a nod to his 'type' of dark hair and dark eyes. But the boy had stopped and stared at him, sniffing the air before huffing in what could only be described as an appreciative tone. Had turned to the warmer of the two bodies lying broken at his feet and rummaged in the chest cavity. Before Spike could turn away, he found himself 'gifted' with a fat, still warm heart, blood oozing from torn veins, the sheer juiciness of the offering enough to make him blink hard. The boy had obviously been saving it until last, the final spoils, and with no hesitation, with only one look and a scenting, he was gifting it to Spike.

It was a balm to the ego bruised by Dru's callous abandonment, a tribute he found himself accepting with next to no thought. He'd lifted the trophy above his head and squeezed until it was raining blood, making no attempt to be clean and tidy as it splattered his face and neck, running down his throat in thick globules.

He'd dragged the boy close to him, tearing off a chunk of the meat with his teeth before slamming their mouths together in a bloody, meaty kiss that got him hard enough to drill through steel. He'd loved the whimpers the boy made as he chased every morsel of the meat around Spike's mouth, blunt teeth chomping at Spike's lips as he ground his own erection into Spike's hip.

An overzealous bite and Spike had reared back and cracked him a good one across the face, a clear warning as to who was boss. He hadn't imagined the glowing eyed approval, the boy dropping to his knees, bloody hands pawing at Spike's belt as his head butted Spike's lower belly. Clumsy, unpractised but so fucking enthusiastic, the blow-job that followed sealed the boy's fate. Spike wasn't letting such devotion go.

Part of him still couldn't believe it had all happened out in the bloody street, albeit down the side of a house. The boy's house it turned out. After his inexperienced blow-job and coming over Spike's boots, he'd come back to himself. It was while they were showering off blood and gore together that he told Spike all about his useless parents and his trip to the zoo.

He'd also filled Spike in on the current slayer and her unorthodox methods of fighting, including having friends as backup. He'd been tempted to track her down and see if he could bag his third but the boy had whined and complained about wanting to get out of Sunnydale before the Watcher did something to take his new-found freedom away from him. And Spike decided he liked his new companion enough that he'd come back when the next slayer was called – there was always another one.

Back to the de Soto and out of town before the sun came up. All he had to do to keep his boy happy was ensure a bit of violence was always to be had; hot blood and guts from assholes who picked on the less popular appealed the most for some reason; almost constant sex as teenage hormones combined with demon stamina to make for a very horny boy; and last, but not least, affection. So weird that the one thing guaranteed to get him a lapful of loving, hot blooded demon were the very self-same casual gestures of affection he himself had often craved from Dru: a hand gripping the nape of the neck to hold him close for a possessive kiss; casual touches whenever the boy was near that clearly displayed ownership. And if sometimes Spike forgot or was accidentally remiss in providing those touches? Well, then the boy went from malleable to demonic, stalking his prey until he could overpower Spike and demonstrate his ownership and no one but Spike needed to know just how much he liked that.....