I don't own jack shit. Except for this idea here.
Part 2 of my Spike x Faye series.
"TEN"
"So, there was this chick."
Faye looks up at him over the cards in her hand, keeping the diamonds and hearts in her hand in her peripheral. Her dark eyebrows arch upwards and she regards him with a mixture of curiosity and amusement in her dark blue eyes. Quickly, though, she looks back at the cards as he discards and draws, pretending like she's not interested in anything he has to say.
"Oh?" she says, her voice only mildly curious - mostly it's flat and monotone, and she thinks to herself that she must be the best goddamned actress this side of the galaxy.
Spike breathes in toxins through his mouth and exhales thick gray smoke through his nostrils, the bent cigarette in his mouth burning slowly. "Yeah," he says, his gaze flitting to her only to watch her slender hands rearrange the cards in her hand and pick up the one he'd discarded the previous turn. He leans back in the stiff wooden chair, letting it tilt onto the two back legs, steadying himself by propping a foot against one of the legs of the card table.
"Do tell," Faye says flatly, and he's annoyed and amused at the same time by the completely uninterested manner in which she's addressing him.
He's about two cards again from winning the game; all he needs now is a King and a four and he's got it made. Still, he keeps his cool, knowing that playing cards with Faye is never a sure thing - gambling may have been her one key weakness, but damn, she's still pretty fucking good at it. They're betting cigarettes now, packs of Marlboro Reds and a case of Pink Dreams she'd been saving for special occasions in the pile between the two of them.
She sounds like she doesn't care, but it doesn't bother him. "So I'm seventeen," he starts, a nostalgic smile spreading his thin lips taut, "and I've got this pal, Lloyd. He's a couple years older than me and he tends bar at this joint downtown - one of those smokey places, like with a sexy blonde lounge singer who's always wearing fucking sequins or sparkles or whatever. And Lloyd, he's a good guy and I've gotten him out of a jam or two here and there before, so he gets me into the place secret-like, even though I'm technically too young to be there."
She puts down a four of hearts and he immediately takes it up, discarding that useless piece of shit seven that had been such a huge pain in his ass this whole fucking game. He tries to look like he's taking it in stride, tilting his head back and taking his cigarette out of his mouth to ash it on the floor (the ashtray is too far away, he decides dismissively).
"So one night, I'm at the bar, and I'm on - what, I dunno - my fourth beer or something," Spike continues, pausing to clear his throat. "And I see this chick down the way out of the corner of my eye. She's by herself and she's gotta be, I dunno, twenty-two, twenty-three, but she's a babe. Legs that go for miles, big brown eyes, and this great, thick red hair, real long and I can tell it's soft even though I'm not up close to her. She's dressed real classy, too, like you can tell she comes from money; she's got this real pearl necklace, diamond earrings, the whole shebang."
Faye draws from the deck and discards a split moment later, and he wonders now if she's even really listening to a word he's saying. He half considers dropping it, but thinks that he's already gotten started and that he may as well finish, even if nobody's paying attention.
(He could never tell, but she's hanging on his every word)
"And like I said, I've had a couple drinks, and I'm feeling pretty damn sure about myself, so I get the balls to walk down to her corner and I get Lloyd to fix her a drink on the house. It was some stupid girlie bullshit, like a cosmo or something like that. But, you know, she's still kind of a yuppie and she's still impressed, and she tells me her name is Veronica something - I can't remember the last name anymore. Maybe she didn't even give me her last name, I don't even know. But we get to talkin', we both get a couple more drinks in us, and she thinks I'm a smooth operator, man. She thinks I'm some twenty-something success story and I get drinks for free 'cause I'm some hot shot, but I'm not about to tell her I'm just some punk teenager. Point is, she digs me, and so when it gets late she asks me if I wanna walk her home - it's late, it's a long walk, it can be dangerous, blah blah blah. All the crap excuses you give when really all you wanna do is get with the person."
She smiles a little there, closing her eyes for a moment and shaking her head. She's got her hair pulled back into one of those stupid, stubby ponytails, a few shorter pieces falling in front of her face. He can tell she shaved her legs earlier in the evening because there's a little piece of tissue stuck to each of her knees and that delicate spot behind them, and he knows they'd feel soft and smooth underneath his palms.
"So I walk her home, of course," he goes on, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. "'Cause I'm a good guy, I'm a gentleman."
Faye lets out a snort. "Oh, yeah," she agrees sarcastically. "A regular knight in shining fucking armor."
He grins, regarding her for a second. "Don't you ever forget it," he orders her, nodding to emphasize his point. She rolls her eyes and he looks back to his cards - he just needs the King of Clubs and then the bitch is going down. "Anyway, I walk her home, and she lives in this swanky apartment complex in the west part of town, and when we get there, y'know, of course she asks me to come up for a drink. So I do, and as soon as I close the door to her flat she's got me by the collar and she's all over me. She's got one hand in my hair and one on my belt and she's kissing my ear, and...you can't even fucking imagine the shit this woman said to me. Christ."
Her eyebrows raise instantly and she smirks, and their eyes catch for a brief moment across the table. "Yeah?" she asks, and a surge of triumph stirs in his gut hearing the interested way she says it. "Like what?"
Spike laughs a little, drawing a card and discarding it instantly - he's set on this King and nothing is going to change his strategy. He looks up, trying to remember the exact details of the encounter he's telling her about, shaking his head even thinking about it. "Like...oh, here's a good one," Spike snickers, taking a drag of his cigarette almost ceremoniously, as though to prepare. "She told me - and this is, like, essentially verbatim, mind you - that she wanted me to fuck her mouth. Like, she wanted me to shove her on her knees and grab her hair and fuck her mouth until she gagged, and then to keep on going. She pretty much said that she wanted to be my whore, in a few more words."
Faye blinks appreciatively. "Nice."
"You're damn right," he agrees with a broad grin. "This shit she's saying, it's getting me really hot, 'cause I'm seventeen and I've never had a chick talk to me like this before. Plus, I'm pretty sure if I keep playing my cards right I'm gonna lose my virginity - to a twenty-something, too - and so as soon as she asks me to fuck her I'm practically ripping both of out clothes off. She's one of those loud moaners, y'know? So it sounds like everything I do is making her come. We fool around for a little bit, and then she bends over her kitchen counter and says some of the filthiest shit I've ever heard before, and then, bam." Spike grins, shrugging his shoulders. "I'm not a virgin anymore."
Her blue eyes go back to her cards as she draws one and then discards it again. "You must have been proud of yourself," she teases coyly, her voice sarcastic and condescending.
"Oh, yeah, sure I was," he admits without a moment's hesitation - shameless, as always, and she chuckles a little to herself. "For the first ten pumps in, I was golden. She was moaning and whimpering and going on and on about how good my cock was - amateur porn star shit, like straight out of 'Bitches Take It Hard 3'."
One of Faye's dark eyebrows lifts curiously, and she looks up at him again with a bemused half-smile. "The first ten pumps?" she repeats questioningly. "What happened after number ten?"
He draws a card, shuffles it to make it look like it's one he needed, and discards it again. With a completely cool demeanor he shrugs those broad shoulders of his, rocking back a little further. "Oh," he says nonchalantly. "I came."
She freezes midway through her discard, and when he looks up from his hand he sees that she's staring at him, the corner of her mouth twitching with the beginnings of a laugh. "What?" she says, and her voice is brimming with it: barely suppressed giggles threatening to spill from her lips at any moment.
Spike looks back to his cards, fighting to keep his own smile at bay. "I came."
A tiny snigger bursts out of her, and she continues to stare at him in disbelief. "Are you serious?" she asks him, and her eyes are lit up with amusement.
He looks at her, no longer able to hold back his smile, and shrugs again as though it's nothing to be embarrassed about. "It was my first time, Faye."
"Yeah, but still...ten pumps? You lasted for ten pumps?"
"Yup."
There's a moment of silence, and then she's laughing hysterically, her head tilted downwards, her free hand pressed to her forehead. "Oh my god," she gasps between laughs. "That's terrible. That's fucking terrible." Her head hits the table and her body shakes with the force of her amusement, and as he watches her he finds himself chuckling a little, too, at the absurdity of it all.
"It was my first time," he repeats.
Faye tries to compose herself, lifting her head again and wiping her eyes. "Oh, fuck," she laughs, shaking her head at him. "She must have been so fucking pissed - it must've lasted, like, ten seconds. Fifteen, tops." She bursts into a fresh set of giggles, her eyes closed and her hand pounding twice against the table.
"Ten, probably," he admits, not a hint of shame in his voice. "Don't give me too much credit."
(He enjoys making her laugh too much to embarrassed about the how or the why)
"C'mon. Play the card."
She manages to get a grip on herself, short bursts of quiet giggles still bubbling out of her as she sets a five of diamonds on top of the discard pile. He picks it up, shuffles it around, sets it back down again. They go on for a while longer, neither speaking, and every now and again he glances up at her to see that cherry-red smile still playing at her lips. For a while he's content with the quiet, but after a couple minutes he's wondering where the fuck this King is in the deck and beginning to feel cheated.
"Well?" he says expectantly as he lays a six onto the discard pile.
She looks away from her cards and up to his face, tilting her head to the right a bit. "Well what?"
Spike blinks at her, as if she's stupid to not get it right away. "I told you about my first time."
"So?"
"So you have to tell me about yours."
She stares at him for a moment, and as her hand moves to take a card from the deck a smirk slowly replaces the smile. He feels himself growing annoyed and he inwardly growls at her coyness. He's about to tell her again that she's got to share now that he has, but before he can speak she's laid down a card, and the whole hand comes next - three aces and a straight of hears. "Gin," she says with a smirk, scooping the cigarettes on the table into her skinny arms and standing up from the table. He's more annoyed than ever now and she can see it on his face, his features slowly contorting more and more definitely into frustration, and it only makes her more smug.
"You're a fucking bitch," he growls, throwing his hand face-down onto the table. "You know that?"
Faye does a mock curtsey and Spike sneers at the teasing motion. She turns from him and walks towards the hallway, her hips swishing confidently back and forth, head held high with a pride that's got him feeling increasingly stupid. She offers no witty comeback, no words of thanks for the cigarettes, and as Spike crosses his arms over his chest he resolves with a smirk that he'll have to show her someday what he could do to her with just ten pumps.