Spike watched the six of them from his spot at the bar, dancing and laughing, having a jolly old time of it. They were surrounded by a sea of costumed idiots all gyrating to the outlandish, screeching harpy of a lead singer for some band he hoped he’d never be forced to listen to again. They'd all dressed in pairs tonight, and it was enough to make a fellow sick. His stomach churned as if he'd been stupid enough to eat something sickeningly sweet, like Shirley bloody Temple, or maybe an entire troop of Girl Scouts. Made him glad that they had no idea he was there. If one of that lot had tried to talk to him, he'd never have lived it down.
Red was dressed as a chocolate chip cookie, smudges of chocolate on both cheeks and a chunk missing out of one shoulder in the shape of a set of giant teeth. Her little witchy friend was a glass of milk, with chocolate fingerprints on the glass, and smears of chocolate on the rim, as well as all around her mouth.
The Slayer had come dressed as a Roaring Twenties flapper, all art deco costume jewelry with long strands of beads and sparkly bobbles. She and her Soldier Boy were pretending that they knew what the Charleston was, flailing around like a pair of idiots. It wasn't a pretty sight. Ironically, Soldier Boy was dressed as a gangster - with a Tommy gun, no less. He had the fedora and the wingtip shoes right, but he looked like an idiot in that suit. Spike had the feeling he’d tried to make it look like a zoot suit, and it hadn’t worked at all. Made Spike almost wish they’d spot him at some point, just so he could poke fun at the idiot.
Puppy Boy and his Demon Girl had gone with an African theme. She was dressed as a Great White Hunter, clothed in khaki and wearing a pith helmet, an elephant gun strapped over her shoulder. Xander was decked out as a mummy, wrapped in layers and layers of gauze. It was the costume that Spike couldn’t take his eyes off of, surely. Why would he be interested in the boy the costume was attached to? Earlier tonight Spike had overheard – well perhaps the word he was looking for there was more along the lines of ‘spied on,’ but he was evil, after all, it was expected. Red had been laughing at Harris, something about his getting kissed by a mummy the year they’d met the Slayer, and almost getting the life-force sucked right out of him.
Mummy Boy had put the kibosh on that conversation when Demon Girl started asking pointed questions. Spike had noticed that she’d been harping on Harris more than normal recently, but despite the fact that all was obviously not perfect in Happily Ever After Land, it seemed like she still got jealous when she heard of him with someone else. Spike wondered why he’d chosen to dress as a mummy, if he was so sensitive on the subject, but then Anya gave Red an intimate description of exactly how much she’d enjoyed getting Xander into his costume, and Spike figured he had his answer.
That had to be why the image was stuck in his head, now. It had nothing to do with those dark, brown eyes and shaggy, brown hair. Demon Girl had wrapped each leg and arm separately, so the wrappings didn’t actually impede his movement, and then she’d literally sewn him into his costume, so it wouldn’t slip when he moved. His hands were covered by white mittens layered with gauze, and she had little strings attached to them with clips, so Harris could take the mittens off when he needed to, and not lose them.
Anya had very specific ideas as to how she planned to get Harris out of his costume when they got home to their new apartment, but unfortunately, Red and Mummy Boy had objected strenuously when she’d started to describe those plans in detail. More’s the pity. But it didn’t matter, really. Spike had a vivid imagination. He was using it right now as he watched them dance.
One thing Spike had come to admire about Anya was her eye for detail. Mummy Boy was a definite treat under all the ill-fitting, eye-offending clothing he insisted on wearing, and she’d managed to bring out the best of him in this costume. No baggy, sagging wraps on this mummy; his form-fitting costume hugged every curve and dip of his torso and legs, and highlighted his well-proportioned arse. The bulge between his legs was nicely framed. His little friends had accused Demon Girl of exaggerating, but Spike knew for a fact that she’d done no such thing.
Until Xander had learned to lock the bathroom door, Spike had made a habit of ‘accidentally’ walking in on him. With his bite gone, Spike was unfortunately reduced to juvenile pranks to keep himself from imploding with frustration. He was willing to admit it - he’d been bored silly. And after that first glimpse of the monster between Harris’ legs, well, wild horses couldn’t have kept Spike away.
He didn’t understand why the boy was so shy about his body; if Spike had been that well-hung, he’d have advertised it in the bleeding papers. But Harris kept himself covered in loose, layered clothing, as if ashamed of what he had to offer, which from Spike’s perspective was a great deal.
Perhaps that was the problem. He was still a boy, barely a year out of high school, only nineteen years old, or twenty at the most. He was perilously close to the hormonal rushes and unfortunate, spontaneous erections that plagued teenage boys.
For some reason, realizing that Mummy Boy might still suffer from involuntary and uncontrollable erections set Spike’s head spinning. There’d be no hiding it tonight, now would there? Suddenly, he was obsessed with seeing that monster in action. He’d have to keep his eyes open, and hope for the best.
Spike snorted. Hope for the best? What the bloody hell was he thinking? Fuck that. Spike didn’t wait for things to happen, he made them happen. The first time Mummy Boy headed for the bathroom, Spike would follow him in. Oh, yes, tonight was looking better all the time.
It hadn’t taken as long as Spike had imagined it might before the opportunity cropped up. The DJ switched to ‘I Was a Teenage Werewolf,’ and everybody moved in close, hoping for a chance to rub up against the one they had their eyes on in the name of a slow dance. He grimaced at the thought of all these little kiddies slow dancing to The Cramps, but it was the closest thing they’d probably get to slow and romantic tonight, so he guessed they’d better take advantage of it while they could.
He’d been right about Puppy Boy and his Demon Girl. They went back to the table instead of taking the opportunity to dance up close and personal. Despite all her talk of ‘sexy times’ with Harris, Demon Girl pulled away from him as soon as Harris wrapped his arm around her shoulders. That was when opportunity came Spike’s way, and Harris headed off to the bathroom. Spike smiled wickedly. It looked like his luck was finally changing.
He finished off his beer, and surrendered his stool to some little chippy dressed as a gold fish, winding his way through the crowd. The press of humanity around him had always been a thrill. Their heat surrounded him, and he soaked it in, enjoying the sense of freedom he had always felt at times like these. It wasn’t the same, it would never be the same until that damned chip was gone, but this was close. He could walk through a crowd and know that he was the predator they feared, even if they never knew he even existed. He was their darkest nightmares. He could be that again, if only for a moment or two.
He felt the icy heat that scraped rapidly up his spine, like nails on a chalkboard, just moments before he came face to face with the Slayer, her arms crossed as she stood directly in his path, a heavy frown turning her face sour as she stared at him. His good mood fell from him as fast as his smile disappeared. Bloody Slayer. Fucking bitch of a Goody Two-Shoes, here to steal even his memories away from him. He fought to hold on, desperately clinging to the wisps of the good mood he’d been reveling in just moments before.
“What are you doing here, Spike?”
Seems the Slayer was even more ‘blond’ than normal today. He sighed, as if supremely bored, instead of murderously annoyed. “I come here often, Slayer. It’s called a bar, and they serve these bloody fantastic things they call alcoholic beverages. Very tasty. They have Buffalo wings, too. They’re hot as hell. Very good. You should try them someti…”
“Shut up, Spike.” She interrupted Spike's monologue, rather rudely, he thought. “You know that’s not what I meant. It’s Halloween. All the bad little goons are supposed to be at home, having a day off. It’s my day off, too, and you’re spoiling it! This was supposed to be a demon free party, so why are you here?”
“Slayer.” Spike spoke carefully, as if to an enraged wild animal you wanted to get away from before she clawed your favorite duster to shreds. “You may have noticed that I’m not exactly friendly with most of the demons in town these days, on account of the fact that I work with you.”
“You might even say I’m a pariah.” He hated to tell the Slayer that his own people despised him, but she’d find out sooner or later, and this way, he might even be able to work it to his benefit, in that she’d leave him alone for a day or two. That would be a nice change of pace. He wasn’t counting on it, but it was worth a shot.
“Today is one of the few days of the year that I’m safe out in public. So I’m taking advantage of it, and having a few beers. I’ll probably play a game or two of pool later, as well, so don’t be surprised if you see me at the tables. Now, if you’d get out of my way….”
Surprisingly enough, she stepped aside. Spike was almost in too much shock to move. Then he figured he’d better take advantage while he could, and stepped past her, heading toward the pool tables. He had no interest in her knowing exactly where he was going, since as a vampire, he didn’t actually have a lot of need for the toilets, so if he went there, she might get suspicious.
With no warning, her Soldier Boy stepped into Spike’s path. What the hell was it with humans these days? He hadn’t done a thing, and he was being hassled yet again. Finn leaned into Spike’s personal space and poked a finger at his chest. “I’m watching you, vampire. If you try anything tonight, I’ll turn you back into the dust you came from so fast you’ll never even know how you got there.”
Spike barked out a laugh. “You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that to impress me, Farm Boy.”
Finn grabbed Spike’s arm, and Spike felt a momentary chill of panic at the thought of no longer being the most dangerous creature on the playground, but he buried that thought deep, not letting it show. The panic was over in a flash, in any event. Since Finn had stopped taking his ‘superman pills,’ as Harris called them, he really wasn’t all that impressive in the way of strength anymore. Spike easily pulled away from him, and kept walking as Finn called out. “We’ll be watching you.
“Yes, yes, of course you will,” Spike muttered, rolling his eyes. “I’m so worried. Wanker.”
He leaned against the wall and watched the Slayer and her boy toy get swallowed by the crowd around the bar, and then he quickly slipped into the men’s room. There was only one berk at the sinks, dressed in chaps and a twenty-gallon hat. Damn, it looked as though he’d missed Mummy Boy. But Spike could hear two heartbeats in the room, so obviously there was someone in the stalls. The Cowboy washing his hands soon left, urged on by Spike’s angry glare. That second heart was tripping rapidly, and his breath was fast and muffled, as if he was afraid of being overheard.
As soon as the Cowboy left, Spike checked under the doors, barely suppressing his shout when he found a pair of white Chucks, and gauze-wrapped legs in the last stall. Got him! There were only six stalls in the men’s room, and Mummy Boy had chosen the one farthest from the door. Spike walked quietly down the row, and stopped at the stall to the left of Mummy Boy’s. Carefully, he pulled the door back just far enough to sneak in. He kept himself to the far side of the stall, and stepped up onto the toilet seat as quietly as possible. He didn’t move after that, giving Harris a chance to start to feel comfortable again.
It must have worked, because a couple of minutes later, Harris’ breathing started getting heavier again, and Spike heard the sound of skin sliding on slick skin. Spike grinned, regretting that he didn’t have a camera on him. He needed to start carrying a small one for times like these. But this would still work for him. He’d interrupt Harris in the act, and reap the rewards in the form of blackmail. This ought to keep him in cigarette and booze money for a while.
He leaned forward, gingerly putting his weight on the metal wall dividing the two stalls, and slowly looked over the divider. There Harris was, in all his mummified glory, sitting on the toilet seat fully wrapped, except for his hands, and one flap in the front with safety pins in the corners, where Demon Girl had designed his mummy suit with an opening for taking care of the necessities.
Of course, there were all kinds of necessities one might run up against. It looked like Demon Girl was prepared for them all. There were a good dozen packets of lube on the top of the toilet paper dispenser, along with half a dozen condoms. Six condoms? He’d have to be some kind of super hero to need that many, or a vampire, of course. Mummy Boy was rather well endowed, but he’d need to have super-stamina to require six condoms in one evening. Now that would be impressive.
Well, Spike had to admit that even without that kind of stamina, Mummy Boy’s prick was pretty damned impressive. He’d never seen it this hard, with the tip an angry reddish-purple color. He wondered what Mummy Boy was thinking of, to get his prick this hard. It must be something pretty bloody hot. He made a damned erotic sight, with his head thrown back like that, his hand moving rapidly over his cock, and his whole body trembling with need.
Spike reached down to adjust his own cock, which was complaining about the lack of attention it was getting. His todger was getting pretty damned squished inside these tight jeans. He gave it a quick rub in sympathy to its plight, then shrugged. Fuck this! Why the hell should he just stand here and watch Harris get off, when he could be joining in on the fun? So he unzipped his jeans, sighing softly as his cock practically shoved its way out of his jeans in relief. Oh, yes, that was much better.
Mummy Boy was hogging all the lube, and there was no way Spike was going to ask for a packet. He was pretty damned sure that would spell an end to the fun for both of them, so he’d have to make do with a little spit and that lovely stream of precome that was already leaking out of the slit. He hadn’t been this hard in a long time. He should go spying on people’s intimate moments more often; it was definitely worth the effort.
Harris reached into the gap in his mummy suit and pulled his balls out, squeezing them gently and rubbing them in the palm of his hand. Spike licked his lips and bit back a moan. Mummy Boy’s hand was moving fast over his long, thick cock now, his eyes screwed shut as he threw back his head, the muscles in his neck stretching the gauze tight as he gasped for breath. Oh, yeah, now that was the stuff! Spike matched his movements to those of Harris, squeezing his fist tight around his cock, imagining what it would feel like to have those hot, rough, human hands on his body.
Harris let out a loud, low moan, and Spike barely ducked in time before Xander’s eyes popped open in surprise at his own lack of control. Spike reluctantly froze, his forehead pressed against the cool metal of the divider that was the only thing between the two of them. He held his balls in one hand, tugging on them to try and hold off the orgasm that he could feel at the base of his spine, urging him on. Just about the time Spike brought himself back under control, he heard Harris take off again, moving fast and furious.
Spike peeked over the top, and had to bite his tongue to stop his instinctive moan. Xander’s hips were moving, despite his awkward position, perched on a public toilet. His cheeks were flushed red, he was panting rapidly, and there was a single drop of blood on his bottom lip, where he’d bitten himself when he’d tried to stop moaning. It took everything Spike had to stop himself from jumping over the divider and sucking that drop of blood, and Xander’s lower lip with it, into his own mouth.
Harris’ hand was practically flying over his cock, and Spike watched in awe as he gasped softly and came, his fat cock firing five or six separate shots, spattering the door of his stall. Harris’ head fell back, his eyes clenched tightly shut, but Spike pulled his head back into his own stall, just in case. He knew he should probably wait until Mummy Boy had gone back to join his friends, but he was too close to stop now. His orgasm was clawing at him from inside, eager for release, and he let it go, just as the door to his stall was jerked open.
His come didn’t have the volume of Harris’, but his shots had plenty of length to them. The first one hit Xander on one gauze covered cheek, and his head jerked back as if he’d been struck by a fist. The second landed on his chest, and the third fell to the floor between Mummy Boy’s feet. Spike laughed as he hopped down from his perch. He knew he’d regret this, but at the moment, he couldn’t give a fuck. That had been one hell of an orgasm!
He stepped up to Harris, who seemed frozen to the floor, and licked the come off his gauze wrapped cheek. Mummy Boy belatedly jerked his head away, stumbling back a step, and Spike brushed past him. He washed his hands at the sink, and watched in the mirror as Xander turned to watch him, his eyes wide in shock. Spike smirked and walked to the door. He turned back and raked his eyes up Xander’s body, with his wide eyed innocence and his fat cock still hanging out of his costume.
Spike let a sexy smile steal over his face. Mummy Boy blushed, and belatedly covered his cock with both hands.
“You ever decide you want to play with the boys on the other side of the fence, you come look me up, all right?”
He winked at Harris as he slipped out the door, and as hard as Spike tried, it was impossible to keep his impulsive grin under control. He’d be seeing Harris sooner or later, he was sure of that. He’d heard the name Xander had gasped out as he’d come, and it sure as hell hadn’t been Anya’s.