Immortal Chapter III
By Lucifiel
Disclaimer: -_-
Years later, after Julia…
He was in a situation he didn't want to be in, going someplace he didn't want to go....on a mission he didn't want to do. Spike Spiegal's right eyebrow twitched as he grilled a doped-up prostitute for information. He hated the red light district.
Vicious sat hunched over his half-filled highball of whiskey in what he deemed to be a very generic bar. Smoke filled, cut through with the dim greasy light of old bulbs. He rubbed his fingers over the cheap stickiness of the bartop. He wasn't in the most sociable of moods::
Spike finished trying to keep the Prostitute from melting into the wall and entered the bar on his right, shaking his head...he lit a cigarette and dropped the match on the dirty floor, wrinkling his nose at the state of the bar....it wasn't the best bar he'd ever been in...but he'd been in worse.
The silver-haired gangster picked up the dingy glass and threw back the last watery dregs of his drink, feeling the ice cubes rattle against his lips. Their sudden contact with his lips made a little spark run up his spine. He rather liked the sensation, but something else made the fine hairs on the nape of his neck prickle. He slowly put the glass down, his focus now elsewhere.
Being as annoyed as he was, Spike didn't notice anything, and made his way to the pool table, seeing that no one was playing...he grabbed and cue and started gathering the balls.
Vicious stood up from his stool. He was faintly amused, how rare it was for Spike to show himself so readily. Rare, and uncharacteristically foolish. He must have had a bad day to put him off so much. Vicious allowed himself a faint smile and made his way towards the pool table.
Spike aimed, his eyes narrowing at the triangle of spheres, sizing it up....his neglected cigarette dropped its load of ash.
Vicious waited just beyond the neon glare of the flourescents that hung above the table. He watched Spike make his shot.
Spike took the shot, sending five of the balls into the pockets with no problem...he smirked a little...at least his aim wasn't off.
"Nice shot…" Vicious smiled, his peculiar eyes glinted, whether with amusement or derision it was hard to tell.
Spike must have jumped about five feet in the air before spinning around to face Vicious.
"I could have killed you five times over by now...you're not always this careless."
"Ch...I'd have noticed you were trying when you stabbed me." He waved a hand, "I'm not in the mood for you."
"Are you ever?" Vicious left the shadows and wandered into the light of the table, "Bad case, I'll take it…"
Spike leaned on the edge of the pool table, resining his cue, "Yeah, you could say that. Talking to some crack whore doesn't really make my day."
Vicious shook his end in almost a patronizing manner. He brushed by Spike, taking the pool cue from him. He retrieved the little blue lump of chalk and polished the end of the cue. He bent to examine the new shot, "You're desperate…"
He frowned, his eyebrow twitching again, "What would make you think that?"
Vicious scoffed, perhaps as much as a laugh anybody would get out of him, "Did you really think a crack-whore could tell you anything worth while?" He lined up the cue and sank the shot easily.
"Eehh you never know. I've actually solved my share of cases based on underground info. They see everything. That one, though...geh," He scratched his head, "What are you doing down here?"
"Cheap drinks," Vicious raised his head to look up at Spike with a little smirk. If he had any ulterior motive for being there, he wasn't telling.
Spike wrinkled his nose, "Yeah, yeah…"
"You wouldn't care to know anyway. You don't like to associate with the old crowd." He aligned the cue again, steadying it with thin fingers.
He narrowed his eyes, "Are you planning something again?"
"Nothing that has to concern you, unless you concern yourself…" He took the shot, watching as his calculated shot richocheted into a corner pocket. He straightened and focused on Spike again.
Spike looked away, reaching a trembling hand into his pocket for another cigarette, "What does it concern, then?"
"Begging for trouble, Spike?" He moved in closer and gripped his chin in a gloved hand, "Or are you just that keen to open old wounds…"
Something flickered in his eyes for a moment, then he jerked his head away, "I just want to know if you idiots are planning to blow up half the damned city so I can leave in time."
Vicious smirked again, "Why would I tell you that? Don't bother playing hero this time, Spike…" He put the cue down and rubbed the lingering patina of blue dust between his fingers. He retrieved his katana from where he left it leaning against the table.
Spike glared and moved forward, his hand reaching for his gun.
Vicious paused and looked over his shoulder at Spike, "Are you going to start a fight here?"
"Like I'd really miss anyone here." He pointed his gun at Vicious's heart, "Tell me what you're up to."
"It would require that I kill you and this entire bar if I said anything aloud. Stay out of this Spike. You are another concern altogether." Vicious headed for the door.
Spike stepped forward and grabbed Vicious's arm, "Hold on a minute." He held the gun to the back of the taller man's head. "If you think I'm letting you go with what you just told me, you're crazy."
"Some have told me that...I prefer not to have to deal with their squealing like stuck pigs," Vicious gestured to the few lingering barflies, "Come outside, there at least we might kill each other in relative peace"
Spike considered, then nodded, withdrawing the gun...he stepped out of the bar, frowning, "Let's go, then."
Vicious stepped through the doors and slipped into a narrow alleyway. Spike followed silently, slipping the safety back onto his gun and putting it inside his jacket. Vicious stopped and leaned against a rusting wire fence that caged off a motely pile of crates. "You've never been keen to know what the Red Dragon was up to before...what's on your mind…"
Spike stopped and took out another cigarette, searching in his pockets for a light. "Just curious." Vicious was silent for a moment as he watched Spike fumble for the lighter. Then reached across into the breast pocket of Spike's jacket and pulled the object out, he held it out to Spike.
He blushed, turning his face away a little to hide it, and accepted the lighter. Vicious then allowed his hand to trail up to where he used his fingers to gently bring Spike's face back around. "...you've aged since I last saw you."
Spike averted his eyes, but the blush remained. "I guess. So have you. "
"In our trades, its hard not to…" He ran a gloved finger over the edge of Spike's bottom lip.
He shuddered, the lip trembling, "Yeah. Guess so."
With an apparent lack of all pretense, Vicious tightened his grip on Spike's chin and leaned in, firmly claiming his lips with his own. Two different colored brown eyes widened, and Spike froze, gasping into Vicious's mouth.
Vicious pulled away a little just enough for him to speak. "Aren't you going to stop me?"
He stood there, panting slightly. "Why...did you just do that?"
"It could be the liquor," Vicious gave a small hint of a smirk. The two had helped themselves to some of the contents in the wet bar, compliments of the late Mr. Slater.
Spike glared, bringing a hand up to touch his own lips. "That must be it."
"You haven't shot me yet, that might be a good sign."
He snorted and looked away, "Ch."
Vicious pressed closer, his lips grazing against the rise of a cheekbone, his hand snaking its way into Spike's jacket. A small, barely audible moan escaped from Spike's half-parted lips...his cheeks flushed red again, "Vi--"
His fingers curled around the stock of the gun and he pulled it from Spike's pocket. He dropped it onto the alley floor and kicked it a distance away, "...and now you can't…" He took the opportunity of Spike opening his mouth to speak to seize his mouth in a captive seige.
Spike tried to pull away, get to his gun... "Bastard...it's no good trying to seduce a lonely guy l-like me…" He grasped Vicious's arms, "Vicious…"
Vicious pulled him back, "You don't have anything to lose anymore, why do you still fight…" One hand went to curl itself about the back of Spike's neck, rubbing gentle fingers over the skin.
"Ngh…" Spike turned his face away, "Vicious, cut it out." Vicious leaned and put his lips to the column of Spike's throat, seeking the softest flesh to tease with tongue and gentle kisses. "V-Vicious...!" Spike shuddered, shoving at him.
Vicious gripped Spike's shoulder firmly and turned, pushing him up against the fencing, "We've cornered ourselves into a spot where dignity and pride mean nothing anymore. Where any purpose we make for ourselves is meaningless. Do you want to continue living this way? To keep on lying to yourself that where you go and what you do matters anymore…"
He growled, turning his face away, "I'm not lying to anyone. I don't care anymore...got no one to lie to."
"Then why are you fighting me. Why bother fighting at all." Vicious's hand tugged at Spike's shirt collar to loosen it, slipping the buttons free one by one.
"Because I…" Spike snarled, frustration evident on his face.
Vicious pulled the shirt and jacket down over Spike's shoulders, kneading the taut muscle with his hands. He leaned in to kiss him again, gently. "The world has already long since passed us by...we can't hope to catch up now…"
He closed his eyes, savoring the kiss, "I know...but...somehow…"
"But...?" His hand grazed along the chiseled angles of Spike's chest and stomach, coming to rest only to toy with his belt buckle.
"I keep living…even though I've got no reason to…"
"Because you will die at my hands...not a moment before…" Vicious once again bent to seize Spike in a savage kiss, He had undone the belt and now slipped his hand under the waistband of his slacks.
Spike jumped, eyes very wide, "Vicious!" Vicious only offered a knowing smile while he purposely rubbed the hand up against his groin. Spike covered his own mouth with a hand to keep from crying out...the other hand clutched Vicious's arm in a vise-like grip.
Vicious tugged the obstructing garments down over Spike's hips and pinned him tighter against the fence both with his body and with his lips against Spike's as he undid the zip on his own black slacks. The hand clutching Vicious's arm moved to grab the links of the fence behind him to steady himself...Spike kept the hand over his mouth, closing his eyes once more. Vicious wrapped an arm about Spike's waist, pulled his hips toward him and slid forward and in with cool precision.
Spike threw his head back, a choked snarl emerging...the hand clutching the fence tightened, and the hand covering his mouth fell away.
Vicious seized his lips again, tongue seeking to join with Spike's. He rocked against his narrow hips, more intent on enticing a reaction out of Spike than his own pleasure. Spike's gutteral growls escalated, and his tongue finally inched forward, if a bit timidly, to join with Vicious's.
Vicious made a pleased sound in the back of his throat as he twined his tongue about Spike's, the thrusts of his hips no longer so gentle.
His body shook, and his eyebrows knitted together, the only sign that Spike was indeed in intense pain. He had no idea that something could be painful and pleasurable at the same time....he'd never been intimate with a man before.
Vicious's hand curled about Spike's leg, fingers brushing against the smooth flesh of his inner thigh. He pulled away from the kiss, and allowed his head to fall back slightly, those his eyes watched Spike intently, a little smile gracing his lips::
Hooded eyes sparked with hundreds of conflicting emotions...Spike bit his lip, his breath coming in short gasps from his recently parted lips::
"Don't tell me you're resisting, Spike…" He pushed harder against his hips, his smile was darkly amused.
"W-When....this stops....I'm...nngh!!!....gonna kick your ass…" Spike managed to glare, his mouth contorting into something between a sneer and a pout.
"Damn stubborn, I don't know why you even bother…" He moved to lightly lip the flesh right below Spike's ear lobe. The teasing grew to small bites. For a brief moment, Vicious's muscles tensed, he gave a slight gasp into Spike's ear, his movements stopped, his hips pressed to Spike's. He eased just as quickly as he tensed.
Spike's entire body arched, then relaxed...his eyes closed and he leaned against Vicious's chest, panting. Vicious lay his head against Spike's shoulder for a moment before pulling away, but he kept Spike caged within his arms. "You're fucking pig-headed to the last…"
"Ch...this...was a bit...you know, sudden…" He felt weaker than he had in years...even when he had been intimate with Julia, it hadn't been like this…
"I doubt it would have worked quite as well if I planned this." Vicious smirked.
"I guess." Spike managed to smirk back, "Bastard."
"Of course…" Vicious smothered him in one more domineering kiss before pulling away entirely. He rearranged his clothes, and pulled his duster closed around him. He still wore his dark smile as he surveyed Spike, but kept his thoughts to himself.
Spike reached for his clothing, wincing, "Man...couldn't you have made it less utterly fuckin' painful?"
"Comfort, Spike? I don't think the formalities would suit you at all…"
"So he rips my ass open.…" Spike stood and eased into his pants, "...prick.…"
"I would say you will get used to it, but somehow I don't think that's appropriate here."
Spike's eyebrow twitched, "If you think you're doing that again anytime soon…" He slipped into his shirt, zipped and buttoned his pants, "...you're nuts." Spike wrinkled his nose at Vicious.
"It doesn't have to be me. You won't let your guard down again, will you? Unless you let me, of course."
He blushed and walked over to his gun, pained. "Oooh. No, I won't." Spike thought about Vicious's last comment, "...maybe."
Vicious laughed lightly, "I'm glad you liked it so much."
Spike straightened himself out and slipped his gun into his jacket pocket, "Yeah, yeah. Glad to see you're so amused. Now if you'll excuse me…I have to be getting back."
Vicious pointed the end of the hilt of his sword toward Spike's pocket, "Then you wont be killing me today."
He sighed, "No, I guess not. You caught a break." A pause, "...so tell me what you're doing?"
"...this district is a notorious hangout for a growing group that had the balls to compare itself to the Red Dragon...that's more than enough. This area's crawling with them…"
"Ch, that's IT?!" Spike sighed again and took a cigarette out of his pocket, fumbling again for his lighter, "Jeez…we went through the same thing a billion times before…they still haven't stopped that shit?"
"I have free reign to do whatever I like to get rid of competition. Of course, they can't know what that is. In any case, I can't have anyone else catch wind of this. The Red Dragon sees a lot of money and bureaucratic shit riding on their elimination."
Spike nodded, finally finding his lighter and lighting his cigarette...he took a deep breath, then exhaled smoke, "I won't do anything. You have my word."
"...well then...I have to find myself someone to kill or else the ones sitting on their asses back at headquarters will question."
"The ones back at headquarters are very good at what they do." Spike grinned, his eyes twinkling.
"Too good...Red Dragons going soft because of them."
"You aren't." Spike took a drag off his cigarette.
"Just one out of many, but that doesn't matter. They don't matter."
He cocked his head to the side, "What are you going to do?"
"That would get you involved. You don't want that."
"Are you so sure?"
"It's Red Dragon business. You are dead to the syndicate."
"Ch, so?" Spike shrugged, "I can just as easily find out if you don't tell me."
"You do that...but if you get caught in the crossfire, I can't help with that…"
Spike smiled and turned, walking out of the alley, "I'll be seeing you, I guess."
"Right…" Vicious followed Spike out, as the alley was a dead end, but headed in the opposite direction.
Spike straightened his collar and ran a hand through his hair, blowing smoke...he walked through the slums, trying to find his way out. "I hate this."
The streets were dark, with the street lights out and never maintained. They were eerily empty as well, though the sounds of cars flying along main roads could be heard in the distance. Still, light and the strains of discordant and battered old rock records filtered from a converted little tenemant down the way, now apparently serving as a bar local for late night and no doubt less than legal activities.
It started to rain. Spike glared up at the sky and twitched. "It's really not fair…" He eyed the bar with distaste, but headed for it anyway. "Nn. Whatever happens, happens."