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Spike and Wes go to Canadaby WesleysGirlRating: NC-17 Spike/Wesley For Knotted_Rose, who knows a good CatBus when she sees one. When they crossed over the border it was nearly midnight. The guy at Customs read through his list of questions as if he'd never been more bored in his life. There was a two-liter bottle of Mountain Dew at his elbow and a gleam in his eye that said anything, anything interesting would make his week. "Know of anyplace good to stay?" Spike asked, leaning over toward the center of the car. He'd been grouchy for the past half hour because Wesley had insisted they stop and switch places, concerned with what might happen if Spike was in the driver's seat as they entered the province. "If you pull into the Visitor's Center just up ahead, they can give you local information," the man said, gesturing back behind him. "Thanks, mate." Spike settled himself back into his seat and lit yet another cigarette. Wesley tried to refrain from sighing -- he didn't mind the smell of the smoke, but in the enclosed space it was getting to be a bit much. "You could say something, you know," Spike told him, as he pulled the car away from the building and started up the road, watching for the Visitor's Center sign. "About what?" Wes asked rather absently. "The smoking. If you don't like it, just say so." Wes glanced over at Spike. "Spike," he said, "I'd really prefer it if you didn't smoke in the car." "Not at all?" Spike sounded mildly affronted, but stubbed out the cigarette he'd just lit. "Even with the window down?" Wesley did sigh this time. "Perhaps just not quite so many?" he suggested. "I find it hard to believe that it's necessary to light one cigarette as soon as the previous one's been extinguished." Spike's hand slid over onto Wes' thigh. "Are you trying to distract me?" "'Course not," Spike said, and then his hand gave a gentle squeeze. Wesley pulled off the road and into the long drive that led to the Visitor's Center. There were only two other cars parked in the relatively-large lot -- not surprising consider the late hour. Once inside, Wesley began to browse through the many pamphlets and flyers inside the small building, while Spike made a beeline for a computer that was set up to access the internet. Wesley added a local hotel booklet to the selection of papers in his hand, then glanced up and saw Spike's gleeful expression. Moving quickly but also, he hoped, casually, Wesley joined Spike and watched as the vampire attempted to access some pornographic sites. "Would you stop that?" Wesley hissed under his breath, looking quickly across the room at the two women working behind the desk area. "Won't let me on," Spike complained good-naturedly. "What, they have some sort of kiddie-proof program on this?" "Apparently so, and thank god for small favors," Wesley said, keeping his voice low. Fed up with Spike's behaviour, he sighed. "Look, I'm going to the men's room. I'll be right back. Try not to get yourself kicked out of here in the meantime." He left without waiting for a response from Spike. He'd used the facilities and was just standing at the sink washing his hands when the door swung open behind him. The mirror reflected nothing but an empty room, even as the door slowly closed. He started to turn around, sure that it was Spike, but strong hands gripped his hips and a quiet voice said, just next to his ear, "Shh, pet. Don't turn around." It was easy to obey, simple to stand where he was and close his eyes as knowing fingers traced the line of his already-hard cock along the front of his jeans. "You know you love this, Wes. Wouldn't let me if you didn't." Silky smooth, Spike's voice, even as the vampire's hand undid the front of Wesley's trousers and slipped inside to caress him. Wesley tried to speak as little as possible. Part of the beauty of this was in letting it happen, in not protesting. "How many sordid bathrooms does this make?" Spike purred, his fingers closing around Wes' length and squeezing, drawing a gasp out of him. "Twelve? Lucky thirteen? All the way up the west coast, a nice little sex spree courtesy of tourist stops and visitor's centers?" "Fourteen," Wesley managed to gasp. He'd learned that there were some questions that required a response. Spike's teeth settled over the skin on the side of Wesley's throat, and Wesley tipped his head to the side automatically, growing even harder at the feel of sharp fangs prickling skin drawn taut. "Baker's dozen plus one," Spike said almost musingly, his other hand pushing down Wesley's jeans. "Maybe that's some kind of sign. You think?" Wesley wasn't sure if he was supposed to answer this, but he couldn't help but glance toward the door in the mirror. "Is it locked?" he asked. The immediate response was the grip on his cock tightening so painfully that he couldn't choke back a groan. "You know better," Spike said sharply. Then, an order that allowed no disobedience, "Say it." "You want me to know that someone might walk in." Wesley closed his eyes. "Keep them open," Spike growled, and again Wesley obeyed. "Look at yourself." He pulled Wesley back a step, further away from the sink so that his flushed erect cock was visible in the mirror's reflection. "Look at how beautiful you are, pet. That's all anyone would see if they walked in here. They wouldn't be interested in me at all. Just you." Wesley shuddered as Spike's hand stroked his cock, the sensation crawling down toward his toes, up toward his fingers, into every inch of his body. "Tell me," Spike said. "I want you to fuck me," Wesley said, knowing this was what was wanted, on so many levels. In the mirror, he couldn't see anything but himself, but behind him he could hear and feel Spike undoing his own jeans, could almost picture that pale cock springing free to rub against his own bare arse. "Gonna shove right into you," Spike said, sucking on the side of Wesley's throat and raising a visible mark. "Big and hard. Push my way in. Nothing you can do about it." Even after all this time, the words made Wesley shiver, made him ache. "Please. Spike..." And Spike did it, pushed in hard with a cock that was slippery with either excitement or artificial lubricant. Wesley didn't care which -- he was too busy gripping onto the edge of the sink with all his strength, trying to remain upright and conscious as the incredible pleasure of Spike moving inside him threatened to blot out everything else. Wesley trembled as Spike's knowing fingers pulled and squeezed at his cock, groaning at the way his muscles tightened up in response to the hardness shoving its way into him in regular thrusts. "Yeah," Spike rumbled next to his ear. "Feels good, doesn't it. Christ, you're so hot." Hovering on the edge of orgasm, Wesley fought it. Spike didn't allow him to come without permission, but god, his body wanted to. "Spike... I can't..." he warned. Spike snapped his hips, fucking Wesley harder with sharp jabs that went deep, making the pressure build even more. "Can't what, pet? Come? Sure you can." He bit Wesley's ear lobe, then murmured, "Come, Wes. Come for me." With a series of helpless jerks, Wesley did, Spike's thrusts never slowing as the surging pleasure rolled through him. At the end of the waves, breathless and shaking, he felt Spike's rhythm falter and knew that the vampire was ready. He wished he could see the expression on his face. Wesley shifted his hips slightly, then Spike thrust once more and came, growling and sinking his teeth into the back of Wesley's clothed shoulder, hand on Wesley's hip pulling Wesley closer so that Spike was buried deep. Long trembling moments passed before Spike withdrew, doing up his jeans with the same studied casualness that always made Wesley feel self conscious. "Meet you out front," Spike said, and strolled out of the bathroom. Still feeling a bit shattered, and not disliking it, Wesley fastened his jeans with shaking fingers and washed his hands again, then used a paper towel to wipe his come off the side of the sink. Some of the bathrooms they'd used had nothing but those hot-air hand dryers -- he might as well make good use of the fact that this one had towels. Wesley tried not to look the two women in the eye as he walked out past them, tried not to wonder if they knew what had gone on. He could feel the faint blush in his cheeks as he joined Spike on the walkway. "Ready to go?" Spike asked. "Got us a lead on a hotel, couple of miles from here." He reached out and ran gentle fingertips over Wesley's cheekbones. "Look like you could use a good night's sleep." "I'd imagine we both could," Wesley said, heading for the car. "I'm driving," Spike said. "I don't think so." Wesley got behind the wheel without another glance. Spike got into the passenger's seat reluctantly, sullen. "It was your turn last time." "I drove for half an hour," Wesley pointed out. "Before that, you drove for three." "Didn't know you were keeping score," Spike said, and something in his tone of voice caught Wesley's attention, made Wesley turn to look at him. "I'm not," Wesley said. And then again, more gently. "I'm not." Spike leaned across the front seat to kiss him before Wesley started the car again. He tasted like metallic cigarette smoke, and his lips were cool and smooth. "Love you," he said. "Love you too," Wesley told him, and turned the key in the ignition. End
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