Extremely AU and set in a strip club. And by AU? I mean they're human. No demons or vampires in this, no sirree. Can't believe I wrote it either, lmao.
So, no spoilers, no real warnings. There's sex, of course, so it's NC-17. Uh. Think that's it...maybe.
Oh and this was written for toobusy2write's birthday which was on the 22nd (August). She got it that day but it's been hung up being beta'd (twice!) and someone forgot to send it back to me the first time so it stayed in limbo for a couple of days.
Beta'd by the lovely kitty_poker1, whom I love with all my perverted little black heart. *cough even though she forgot about sending it back to me cough*
The day Angel started working for the Rapture strip club was the beginning of the end for Will.
He'd been the cat's meow, the hot shit, the bee's knees, the cream of the crop, the best stripper the club had and was renowned for it but now...
Now it was all about Angel and his breathtakingly dark good looks, his piercing, nearly black eyes that seemed to pin you to your chair, his over six feet of muscled delectable body that was made for the stage and a good, polished strippers' pole.
He was jealous, yes, he could damned well admit that, but he had thought the novelty would've worn off and everyone would've gone on with their lives within a couple of months or even weeks. That was how it was. A new dancer arrived, they got the spotlight for a bit and then they'd settle into regular rotation and Will would upstage everyone because that was what he did.
He was Spike and he was the best. He had the lithe, muscular body of a dancer or swimmer and that was what drew most regulars; he had a stage presence that pulled his fans back again and again.. The main thing about Spike, though, was his shocking blue eyes. They seemed to stare right into your soul and Will knew how to use all of his attributes in collaboration to get the audience worked up and get him more tips.
Angel was the antithesis of Spike. He was brooding and quiet and dark and, oddly, it worked for him. The bastard didn't have many facial expressions, but what he did let out drew customers like dogs in heat.
It just wasn't fair. Will ruled Rapture and had since he'd begun working there three years ago. Now, it was all about Angel.
Oh, fuck me please, Angel, with your big, gorgeous cock and your passionate, dark eyes that seem to know everything about me. Just one kiss with those beautiful lips. Touch me, Angel, feel me.
Will thought everything about Angel was bullshit. It was all an act designed to lull men and women into his trap and then he had them: dedicated customers who came back again and again, begging to be allowed the esteemed presence of Luscious Angel in one of the back rooms for a quick lap dance or possibly something more.
Sure, there were rules against fraternization with customers, but few dancers actually followed them, Will included. As long as they were discreet and none of the higher ups caught them, it was over-looked.
Angel was taking most of Will's customers and it pissed him off no end.
The crowd out there now, most of whom were screaming their heads off and shoving twenty dollar bills down Angel's crotch, weren't his anymore.
The worst of it? Angel was actually a nice guy from what Will had seen. He was pleasant to everyone, making friends left and right.
Will knew better. Angel didn't have much of a life outside the Rapture from what he could tell -- he came and went to work whenever he was asked, never took time off, never talked to anyone; it was unnerving how silent and brooding the fucker was. He couldn't imagine why, what with the pillock's model good-looks and winning personality. Apparently, he was a loner and just in this business for lack of any other job opportunity.
And money. Couldn't forget that. Lots of it going around if you were good enough to earn it.
Well, Will wanted him out. Wanted him gone so he could retake his usurped throne and go back to the way things were before.
Problem was, he had no idea how to do that. Everyone loved the fucker too much and Angel didn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. Five months and he was still cemented at the top of the food chain.
It was enough to make Will's stomach turn and his dancing was affected.
Lorne pulled him aside one night after a particularly bad routine -- not that most of the audience noticed, they were all too sozzled to care as long as he took off his clothes and looked pretty -- and said in no uncertain terms that if he didn't get his act straight he'd be put on Wednesday night's rotation. The least popular night.
He'd pulled himself together, given it his all and he was back up there. Just not at the top as he should've been. He was number two in the world of Angel.
Will smoked another cigarette, leaning against the wall backstage. It was almost his turn. Angel was nearly finished and he was always number two. His face creased into a grimace of distaste and he tossed his burning butt into a nearby ashtray, then straightened his laced-up leather pants over his groin, fixed his spiked up hair, and looked in a mirror to make sure his make-up was done right and he hadn't smudged it.
When the crowd went wild and the music stopped momentarily, Spike emerged with a cocky smirk and Will was stowed in his little compartment for the next four minutes. Will licked his lips, tapped his bare feet on the cold floor and glared at Angel as the over-sized ponce walked backstage toward him.
The other dancers knew of the rivalry, the almost tangible hatred Will had for Angel, and they whispered in hushed tones every time they met up.
"Will," Angel acknowledged with a nod of his head, holding his clothing against his chest and a big wad of crumpled up bills in one hand.
"Angel," Will sneered, ignoring the body and purposely keeping his eyes on the other man's.
Angel stopped and blinked at him for a moment, looked as if he wanted to say something but apparently decided otherwise as he sighed and walked away, feet slapping against the tile.
Will made an impressive growling noise in the back of his throat. He turned his leather-clad back on Angel and straightened his shoulders, making his duster ripple around him. The feel of the leather was stifling against his already over-heated flesh; it was hot in the club and getting hotter.
Good thing he was getting out of it all pretty soon.
He took a deep breath, bounced on the balls of his feet, black toe nails glittering in the dim light, and brushed aside the curtain with matching black-varnished fingers.
The music started and his adrenaline started to pump, exciting him.
As the spotlight settled firmly on the swaying curtain during his introduction, he stepped out to the ringing cheers of the women and men in the audience.
Ah, showtime again. It was the one thing that got his mind off Angel.
Most of the time.
During Will's routine, he tried to ignore the fact that Angel had again come out to watch him. He'd done it nearly every time from what Will could tell. Every day Angel danced, he'd wait and watch Will's set before leaving.
It oddly unnerved Will but there wasn't a damned bloody thing he could do about it.
He just danced. Moved his hips. Sucked his fingers. Shook his ass. Humped the pole. Caressed and stroked and licked at the pole. Fucked the audience with his eyes and sexy movements. Stripped his clothing off like the professional he was.
Angel's eyes stabbed into him and he could feel it even through the heat of the lights. The bastard needed to get himself a hobby.
He made sure to dance especially well and make exceptionally lewd and sensual movements towards the brunet in the front row who seemed determined to grab onto Spike's g-string after he'd stripped out of his duster, leather pants and silk shirt.
Normally, he hated being touched like that, even with Angel's undivided attention egging him on to do things he normally wouldn't, but this time? After five months of constant staring and silent appraising, he couldn't take anymore. He had to get the burning eyes out of his brain, off his body, so he let the brunet near him touch his thigh, grasp onto one of his buttocks, shove a twenty dollar bill down the front of his thong.
Hungry fingers touched his cock, stroked him and he got hard. He slipped away with a naughty grin but not before he bent down and licked the man's face with a twinkle in his eye and a wink for his efforts.
The music cut off, he grabbed his clothes and tips and headed backstage.
He was one of the few dancers who had his own dressing room -- you had to be good to get your own space, as Lorne had told him -- and he took advantage of a long, hot shower once he'd stripped off his g-string, tucked away his costume and put his tips safe and sound in his wallet.
When he finally got out he was toweling his hair, half the cotton fabric covering his face and nothing else, when he heard a throat clear.
He looked up with a raised eyebrow.
Angel had made himself at home on his sofa and was staring blatantly at the cock that dangled between his legs. It was as if he hadn't seen one before.
Will rolled his eyes and tossed his towel at the man, who jumped, startled. He walked over to his wardrobe and pulled out a pair of well-worn jeans with rips in the legs and tugged them up over his naked body. As he did up the buttons of the fly, he turned. "What do you want?"
"Nice set, Will."
Will sighed and pulled on a t-shirt that was so tight his pierced nipples could be clearly seen outlined underneath. He settled backward in a chair, arms propped up on the high back, seemingly relaxed. "I know you're not here to praise me for my dancing. Cut to the chase, git, what do you want?"
Angel's lips settled into a firm line, face expressionless as always, body tensed and ready for...something. "What was that all about? Up there on stage tonight."
"What was what about? I did my thing, made my money, same as always." He shrugged, leaning over and retrieving a pack of cigarettes and lighter from his dressing table. He lit a cigarette and squinted through the smoke at the brunet. "What's your problem, mate? You've eyed me every night we're on together without fail since you've been here. Makes a fella a tad disconcerted."
"You hate me." It wasn't a question so much as a statement of fact.
The change of the subject didn't surprise Will, but it did put him on alert. He'd never spoken so much to the other man before and he didn't know what to expect. "Well, yeah, that's a given. What of it? What's that got to do with anything?"
That startled a laugh from Will. "What do you mean, why? Since you've been here I've been second string. This was my turf and you bloody well stole it right out from under me. You expect me to like you after you've stolen most of my customers? I've lost several thousand dollars of business because of you!"
"It's not my fault, dammit. I can't help it if they ask for me. It's not like I asked, Will. You should know you can't force people into doing what they don't want. They just...want more."
Spike threw back his head and stared at the water-stained ceiling in disbelief. This fucker was un-bloody-believable. "Yeah, well, blah blah, good for you. Now, get out. I'm through with this shit."
Angel was unmoving, a rock of granite parked on Will's couch waiting to grow moss.
Well, if he wanted to stay in Will's dressing room all night, he could. Will didn't care, but he was leaving.
He shrugged, rubbed out his cigarette and collected his things for the night. He shoved his bulging wallet in his back pocket, collected his keys, pulled on his socks and Doc Martins and collected his trade-marked duster. He was shrugging into it when he looked at the too quiet Angel, who was just watching him with his own trade-marked expressionless face.
"You don't have to hate me, you know. I'm not your enemy. I'm not here to steal your regulars. I'm not here to take your money. I'm just here because I've got nothing else to do and I need the cash. Just like everyone else, just like you. We could be friends, if you'd let it happen."
With that Angel got up, gave him one last intense look and strolled from the room.
Will frowned after him.
He had no idea what the hell bug flew up Angel's ass and he didn't care but what he'd said made a kind of sense that he didn't want to think about.
He rolled his eyes, flipped the light switch off and locked his door.
He rode home on his motorcycle, speeding to the apartment that had been his home for the last several years.
He didn't sleep for the longest time, Angel's words lingering in his ears and echoing in his head.
Will noticed something. Something that had been evident from the start, he supposed, but he'd never really given it any thought before.
Angel worked the same nights as he did, having switched his schedule only days after starting work. He always danced before Will did. He had the dressing room next door to Will.
He always watched Will dance.
He always left after Will did.
He frowned as he pondered what all of that could mean and finally dismissed it as he was ready to go on.
He shook his ass, ignored Angel's penetrating gaze and scooped up clothing and money, heading back to his dressing room.
It was like clockwork. It was routine. Four days a week he danced, eleven o'clock, give or take, unless someone had to switch times. And the same four days Angel danced ten minutes before he did.
That was long enough for Angel to catch a shower in between the break after his own dance and the time Will finally went up on stage...
If Will hadn't known better, he would think Angel was stalking him.
A few weeks later, Angel's behaviour hadn't changed but Will's perception and acknowledgement of it had. Will couldn't ignore it anymore, it was unnerving and upsetting him and...
It oddly excited and aroused him.
Having that kind of attention from someone as beautiful as Angel was like a drug. A drug he wanted more of even though it was probably incredibly bad for him.
He felt like a complete tit getting all giggly and hyper-active over Angel but he couldn't seem to help himself. He danced better, acted out more, made more tips than ever and it was all Angel's fault.
After a few weeks of feeling Angel's penetrating gaze on him, Will made a decision. He came in extremely early, hid in the back near the bar and finally caught Angel's routine -- it was only fair. He'd never seen it before, hadn't wanted to, but he was too damned curious for his own good to ignore it anymore.
And, Christ, he shouldn't have dismissed the other man because Angel was good. Almost as good as he was.
He knew how to move, how to invite people with a single look or movement to touch him or throw more money, how to incite a response that rippled over the crowd and settled heavily in the air.
Will also noticed that a lot of drinks were sold during and after Angel's performance.
Not to mention Angel's outfit of choice. He only had a few and this seemed to be a favourite since Will had seen pieces of it balled up against Angel's chest more often than not.
Skin tight red leather pants that left little to the imagination and hugged every line of his lower body, Celtic knot buckle belted sharply around his waist, silver cross necklace dangling between smooth, muscled pectorals emphasizing the creamy flesh showing from the half unbuttoned vee of Angel's matching red leather vest.
Will didn't know whether to laugh or cry for his response to Angel's outfit and well-practiced, perfect routine.
He decided to get a drink, despite it being his turn shortly after Angel finished and he'd made it a rule never to imbibe before a set.
Will's routine suffered from his inattention and the fact that he'd had three shots of whisky beforehand.
Lorne tore him up one side and down the other, despite the tips and cat-calls he'd received.
Lorne never seemed happy with anything less than perfect.
Will hurriedly showered and tried not to think about Angel and what he'd seen twenty minutes ago but it was hard. And so was he.
He gave in, in the end, though, because he was so aroused his cock wouldn't have fit in his tight black painted on jeans otherwise.
His face in the hot spray, body heated and wet, he took himself in hand, jerked off, gave a muffled cry of 'Angel' when he finally came hard, semen splattering against the back wall of the shower and felt more alone and desolate than he had in a long time.
He really needed to get laid.
He picked up one of the more attractive regulars, the brunet that had touched and fondled him earlier, followed him back to the man's car and proceeded to try and suck his tonsils out with a desperate mouth.
While he was attacking the zipper of his jeans and trying to pull out his increasingly hard cock, there was a knock on the window.
The man pulled back with a muffled curse, nervously licking his lips to eye the man standing on Will's side of the car.
"Look, I gotta go. I'm sorry. Would you please get out?"
Will sighed, got out and slammed the door so hard the car rocked on its wheels. As the nameless man gunned his engine and sped off, he turned to glare at the bloke that seemed to be the cause of everything going wrong in his life right now.
"You know, you have really shit timing."
A brow quirked in amusement. "So, I saw. Watched you come over here with that man and saw you trying to perform mouth to mouth resuscitation on him...how'd that work out for you?"
Will scowled, jeans painfully tight, metal zip digging painfully into the bare skin of his aroused cock. "How the fuck do you think? You interrupted before I could get my leg over, pillock. What's your problem? You purposely trying to ruin my life? You're bloody well gonna kill me if you interrupt me at a time like that again. Feel like I'm gonna pop. And not in a good way."
He brushed past Angel, intent upon getting on his bike and getting the hell out of there so he could go back to his place and jerk off till he was sore, when the brunet grabbed his arm in an unrelenting grip and stopped him.
"What?" he growled, trying to pull away.
Angel's fingers tightened almost painfully. He pulled Will close, breathing hotly on his upturned face. "I can take care of that for you. If you want."
Will's jaw dropped. And along with a hearty twitch from his dick and his heart rate sky-rocketing, his breath quickened. "Do what?"
Angel licked his lips and walked Will backward until the blond was pressed between the length of his body and a hard wall. Angel rotated his hips and ground his own erection into Will's. "I think you get my drift, Will. You're hard, I'm hard..."
Will's eyes widened dramatically, he tried to make his body respond and push Angel away but for some reason he couldn't. He could only moan inarticulately and surge against the other man's body.
He swallowed hard, pupils dilated and unfocused.
"Can I take that as a yes?" Angel whispered, head lowering. He licked the seam of Will's lips, asking for entry and all Will could do was give it to him.
The kiss was electric. It sent pulses of pleasure up and down Will's body until he thought he'd cum from just the one kiss. It was wet and hot and Angel's mouth owned his.
When it ended, Will was barely coherent and the only thing that held him up was Angel pressing him into that wall with his hard body.
"Yeah," he rasped, finally.
Angel fucked him. Fucked him like he'd never been fucked before. It was hard and deep and Will was face down on his own bed begging like a little bitch for Angel to let him cum, to touch him, to fuck him harder and faster and do whatever he liked as long as it was more.
He was spread open, stretched to the limit and taking it from the man he'd thought he hated.
Angel's pace quickened, his breathing matching it and Will panted unevenly through his moans as the thick, hard cock thrusting into him hit his prostate repeatedly.
It was enough to send him over without even a single touch to his dick.
He collapsed to the bed in a puddle of his own cum, breathing hard and still he arched into each thrust because he wanted more of Angel inside him. And when the other man came, the heated pulses in his ass scorched and filled him.
Will woke up with a heavy arm across his chest and warm breath on the side of his neck. A hard body pressed into his, aroused cock resting in the groove of his hip.
His eyes shot open and he stared at the man at his side.
He'd fucked Angel!
Or, well, Angel had fucked him.
Semantics were a bitch.
Oh, fuck, what had he done?
This shouldn't have happened.
"Fuck!" he muttered softly, wriggling out from under Angel.
He grimaced at the sticky feel between his legs but pulled on the clothes he'd had on the previous night anyway. He left without a backwards glance, hoping Angel would leave on his own.
He called in sick, he ignored his cum-covered bed that still smelled like Angel, he slept on his couch with an arm slung over his eyes.
The few days he had off were spent in a constant state of anxiety. He couldn't blame his little moment of weakness on being drunk, he couldn't blame it on anything but himself.
He didn't know what to do. He'd have to go back to work eventually, unless he wanted to get his ass fired, and he would no doubt have to face Angel then.
But, God, he didn't want to. He'd have rather faced a firing squad completely bollocknaked instead of seeing Angel. Deep down, he still hated him childishly, but he also...mostly liked him.
It was the mostly liking part that had his stomach in knots. It had been easier to just hate him.
And when he finally went back in to work, he arrived as late as possible and left like his ass was on fire. He succeeded in avoiding Angel for five days after he returned to Rapture but on the sixth day Angel cornered him in his dressing room after he'd taken a quick shower and was preparing to head out.
Angel stormed into his room, eyes blazing, body tensed and radiating fury. "What the hell is this? You've avoided me like I've got the plague since that night. What gives, Will?"
Will swallowed hard and affected an uncaring demeanor. He shrugged dispassionately. "Nothing at all, Angel. Didn't figure you for a moron. It was a one night stand, mate, you know how it goes."
The brunet's nostrils flared and Will turned his back to pick up his wallet, lighter, keys and cigs. "What's wrong with you? I've spent months watching you and waiting. I thought you wanted it as much as I did. Are you deranged?"
"You've never had a one night stand?" He mumbled to his dresser, tucking his things into his pockets.
"No, I haven't."
That startled a response from Will. He turned, incredulous, eyebrows raised, mouth wide open in shock. "Then what was--I mean," Will took a deep breath, slowly calming himself. "What was that night to you? What do you want from me? I don't do relationships, not like...well, I just don't. It's not in me. The one I did have ended badly and I just don't see the point, okay? Just go, alright? We don't have to do this. Just...go."
"No." Angel stalked over and grabbed Will by the biceps. He shook him so hard Will's teeth rattled and he lost all perception of up and down and right and left. All there was, was Angel. "You're going to listen to me, Will. I fucked you because I wanted...because I want you. I thought you wanted me. I know you were hard for me that night. I saw you watching me despite the fact you tried to hide at the bar. I heard you jerk off and call my name when you came in the shower that night. I followed you and saw you pick up that guy because you were hard for me. I just don't get why you couldn't pick me instead of ignoring the desire, the...passion that's so obvious between us. We could be good, Will. It could be so good between us."
Will's head settled as Angel finally stopped shaking him like a rag doll. He wrenched himself out of the other man's hands and hugged his arms to his body. He didn't look at Angel, he couldn't. "I don't want it, okay? Just leave it. We can be friends if you want. Eventually. I just...I can't do what you want me to. Leave me alone."
He turned his back, shoulders slumped, head swimming, heart constricted and burning with the desire to just give in.
"No, I'm not leaving it, Will. Look at me when I'm talking to you!" Angel snarled, grabbing Will by the arm and forcibly turning him around. His eyes blazed as he glared down at him. "You're going to tell me what the hell your problem is. I can do friends if that's what you really want but I don't think that's what you want. You're hiding something. I may not matter to you, Will, but I think I deserve to know why you won't even try. Just tell me!"
"No!" Will growled, trying to yank his arm away.
"Yes!" Angel countered, not letting go.
Will gave a frustrated yell that was masked by the pulsing beat of the music playing in the club. "You wanna know? Fine! I don't want to let you in, Angel! I've been hurt too many times to let someone fuck me over like that again. I don't want to lose myself. I don't want you to own me, to possess me like that! I can't let it happen, alright? Now, let me go!"
"No," Angel whispered, pulling Will close and tugging him into a kiss unlike any Will had ever had.
Will's eyes popped open wide before shutting. He couldn't keep up the pretence any longer. The kiss threatened to consume him as Angel was. It was sweet and barely open-mouthed but it was tearing down the very foundation of Will's defences.
Angel pulled away, leaving Will bereft and swaying on his feet. "Was that so hard?"
Will stared at him, then looked down. "Well, yeah."
Angel chuckled wearily and sat down on Will's couch. He pulled the slighter man with him, positioning him in his lap despite his weak struggle. "Settle down, Will." Angel stroked a hand through Will's gelled hair and the younger man shut his eyes and allowed it, relaxing against him after a moment of indecision. "So, you really don't want something with me? With us?"
Will sighed into Angel's shirt front. "I don't know," he whispered uncertainly. "You've got me all wonky, weak-kneed and confused. Dunno what the hell I want. And you're not helping with all the touching, either."
Angel smiled but didn't stop his stroking. "Will you give it a shot, then? Not gonna force you into anything you don't want, Will. Just give us a chance, okay?"
Will bit his lip, eyes opening to stare distractedly at one of the buttons on Angel's shirt. "I suppose I could give it a go. No guarantees, though, Angel. This is new for me and I'm not comfortable with it."
Angel sighed. "That's all I can ask for. I really like you, Will. Have since I first saw you dance."
"Hated you, though, you ponce. Took my top spot and got all the girls and guys after your ass. My best customers! Bastard."
A half grin drove the sad expression from Angel's face. "Yeah, I figured it was something like that, before I talked to you tonight, I mean. That you were jealous of the attention I've received since I started here."
"It's always about you, Angel. With the customers and me. It's you."
Angel watched him from a table near the front, a half-filled glass beside the hand he'd rested on the table top, expression guarded and expressionless as usual, but his eyes, his eyes were sparkling with fondness and sexual heat and promise that sent a warm glow into Will's soul.
He danced for Angel, made eye contact several times, and the rivalry he'd thought they had was over because it just didn't matter anymore.
In the weeks since Angel's confrontation, Angel hadn't asked for any more than he could give and Will was coming to terms with the fact that there was someone out there who wasn't using him. That Angel actually wanted him.
And he needed Angel.
He rubbed his crotch in a drunk woman's face -- to her gleeful delight and obvious pleasure -- and let her push a fifty in the waist of his g-string, but he watched Angel.
And Angel stared back.
When he got off the stage, Angel was there to meet him and they kissed in the hallway, ignoring the other dancers as they wolf-whistled at them.
They kissed against the door of Will's dressing room while Will was tearing off Angel's clothing.
They kissed in the shower when they finally made it there, both naked and wet and hard from Will's performance and Angel's voyeurism and the heavy petting they'd done.
They kissed, necks arched, body's strung tight and twisted as Angel thrust into Will from behind, the water raining down over Angel's shoulders and Will's back.
As they came, the hot water ran out, chasing them from the shower still shuddering in the aftershocks of orgasm, laughing good-naturedly.
Will took Angel home with him and they made love for several hours, then slept in each other's arms, Will's head on Angel's chest, an arm and leg thrown across the brunet's body as if he just couldn't let him go. As if he couldn't not be touching him.
Here Endeth the Story
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