Black and White

AN: Just a little one-shot to hold you over til the next chapter of 'Rooftop'. Enjoy!

And go read my other slashes! Click my username at the top on this story and check it out!



The room instantly quieted the moment he stepped through the door. The smoky tang of stale cigarette smoke wafted in lazy curling circles and he stepped through it, pulling out a ciggy of his own and lighting up. The flare of his lighter lit the menacing scowl on his face, creating wicked shadows and causing more than a few of the patrons at the bar to quickly drop their money on the counter and edge towards the door.

Silence reigned throughout, until the barrel-chested bartender cleared his throat roughly. “No trouble this time, alright Spike?”

The sinister figure in the archway seemed to think about it for a moment, then nodded once. “Sure thing John, just get me a shot of tequila and everything'll be just fine.” He chuckled darkly and made his way to one of the empty tables near the back of the bar.

He sat heavily on the worn wooden chair and propped his feet up on the table, crossing his booted ankles and smirking in the dark. His black jeans were tight and restricting, highlighting the impressive bulge between his thighs and more than a few of the other people in the bar were watching him, half in fear and half in attraction.

Male or female, it didn't matter, they all wanted him, and the few who knew him, also knew he enjoyed both. He sucked in the acrid smoke and held it, feeling the addictive burn in his lungs, before blowing it out in one big cloud.

A sudden shadow darkened his table and glittering black eyes glanced up at a cautious face. His scowl deepened at the waitress. “What?”

“Uh...H-Hi...Spike...Uh, I just, uh, have your drink for you. Here.” She set the glass on the table and gave him a shaky smile.

Yet another one of his fans. Half-afraid he'll kill them, yet unable to want him. His scowl twisted into a feral smirk. “Anything else, Darling?” He stretched out the endearment, almost mockingly, but the girl, 'Jill' said her name tag, only blushed.

“Oh! It's just...Well, it's uh...You haven't been in for a while...Heh, I thought maybe you forgot about me...”

Oh yeah. Now he remembered. About 4 months ago, he'd gotten into a fight here and Jill had helped him get out the back way before the cops had shown up. He'd repaid her with some awesome first-class fucking. But it's not like he wanted to do it again. He picked up his shot and knocked it back with ease, not even breaking his grin. “Oh no, Baby, I could never forget a hot girl like you.” He winked at her and she giggled nervously. “I've just been out of town, on business.” Truth was, he'd had to leave town to avoid jail time, and he'd gone on a little vacation.

Which had certainly been interesting, to say the least. But that was nobody's business but his own.

Jill stood awkwardly, scuffling her feet hopefully.

He sighed in agitation. “What?”

She jumped a little at his sharp tone and blushed deeper. “Um...well, I was just wondering if, you know, maybe...Well, I get out of here in an hour and-”

“Jill! What the hell are you doing?!”

Spike glanced towards the door to see a rather upset guy standing in the door, staring at his waitress in confusion and anger. He watched as Jill stepped back from his table quickly and bit her lip, playing innocent.

“Derek! Um, nothing! I was just serving this guy and-”

“Yeah, I know all about him.” The guy named Derek spat out, looking at Spike with contempt. “You're the infamous Spike. I know all about you. You stay away from my girl or I'll make you regret it.” Apparently trying to intimidate him, Derek leaned over the table and got right in Spike's face, knocking his boots off the table and slamming his palms down onto the flat surface. “You're the guy who used to pick fights for no reason, taking other guy's women and then leaving 'em in the dust. Trolling around town, up to no good, making everyone afraid. But I'm not afraid.” Derek's girlfriend tugged on his sleeve, a horrified expression on her face. She kept glancing at Spike's face, as if to see if he would snap or something. “You used to be top-dog around here, but nobody's seen you for months. And I gotta tell ya, things have changed. No one around here is scared of you anymore.”

Spike, who had been calmly puffing on his cigarette during that little speech, smirked suddenly, a dangerous tilt to his lips as he slowly stood. He was 6 and a half feet tall and he towered over the guy. But where Spike was only lean corded muscle, the jealous boyfriend was cut with thick bulging sinew. Obviously, he felt that gave him the edge.

But Spike was too long out of this game and he felt the itch to fight overtake him. He flexed experimentally, cracking his knuckles. Then he leaned down over the man, his white teeth glinting in the low light. “That's all good, I suppose. But the thing is...” He sighed dramatically. “I think these people deserve to know you can hold your own against the former 'top-dog'.”

Derek scowled angrily. “Sounds good to me, kid. Name the place and time.”

Spike almost snorted at the term 'Kid'. But he held his impassive expression and nodded to the door. “How bout right now? Outside so we don't make a mess for my dear old friend John.”

The bartender rolled his eyes and just shook his head, pretending to ignore the two.

Jill was over in the corner, looking terrified as her boyfriend nodded his acceptance to the challenge, but Spike could also see the excitement sparkling in her eyes. Regardless of the outcome of the fight would be, it seemed that Derek would be getting some special loving from his girl tonight.

That is, of course, if he was still conscious enough to enjoy it.

Spike straightened to his full height, retaining his lazy smirk and crossing to the door. He didn't bother looking back to see if his opponent was following. They always did, along with the few tag-alongs who came out to watch the fight.

Once in the street, Spike tossed his cigarette to the ground and shrugged off his black leather jacket, fixing his tight black t-shirt. It accented the cut muscles of his abdomen. The jacket was tossed onto a nearby car and Spike stretched, arching his back and popping the vertebrae of his spine. Voices sounded from his left and he saw Derek and Jill arguing semi-quietly. Apparently, Jill was trying to stop her lover from doing this. Good girl. She knew what Spike was capable of. Hell, he knew she saw the fight the last time he was in town, so the outcome was already known in her mind.

The familiar excitement of violence coursed through his veins, pumping him up and making him giggle a little maniacally.

Derek stood in front of a nearby alley way and Spike stalked over to him, lowering his head and staring hard at his opponent. “You ready for this kid?” He mocked, teeth bared.

To his credit, Derek showed no fear and Spike watched as his left arm twitched. He knew the first punch would be thrown soon. He paused a few feet away and decided to be a little frisky. One obsidian eye winked at Jill and he heard Derek's roar of rage. There was only a second to dodge the swinging fist as it shot at his face, but he side-stepped easily, laughing.

His laughter was cut off when a solid kick landed in his stomach, dangerously close to his groin. In seconds he was right in front of the other, grabbing his collar and lifting him off the ground effortlessly, all traces of his smile gone.

“Now that wasn't very nice, was it? I think you'll need to be taught a lesson.” He tightened his grip and was pleased to hear the other's choked gasp. “Hehe, I'd forgotten how fun this was. I should-”

“Daniel!”

Oh shit. Spike's eyes grew wide as he recognized the voice. There was only one person who called him by his real name. He winced and craned his neck around. Yup, it was Finch. “Uhhhhh...Hey baby! I thought you were asleep?”

The figure glaring at him was a vision of angelic beauty. Honey-brown hair that shimmered in the lamplight, dark green eyes like emeralds, smooth caramel skin, and long slender limbs. But the anger radiating off him was anything but angelic and Spike shivered.

“Don't you 'baby' me! You put that boy down right this instant!”

Spike looked up in surprise to see that he was still holding Derek off the ground, his face turning blue. He quickly dropped him and backed away, almost tripping as he approached his furious boyfriend. “It's not what it looks like, I swear.”

Finch just glared, crossing his arms and tapping his foot on the ground agitatedly. “Liar. I knew that you would be out here doing this stuff again! Acting like some macho street-fighter! I knew! And to think I trusted you to give up this life! You promised!” A pointed finger jabbed at his face in accusation and Spike winced again. “You are unbelievable! All those sweet words, 'Ooh, I've changed' and 'I'm not the same guy I used to be'! That's crap! Maybe moving back here with you wasn't such a good idea.”

A gasp escaped him and he fell to his knee, throwing his arms around his lover in denial. “No don't say that, Baby! I just needed to get it out of my system! You know, one last time! I swear!”

“Hmph! Sure, I bet you...Hey, wait a minute...What's that smell...?” Finch's delicate nostrils flared and Spike cursed silently, trying to quietly shift away. But slim fingers dug into his shoulders as Finch bent down and sniffed him. He yanked back with a gasp. “You've been smoking again! You-You-!” He struggled for words, shoving Spike away and snorting angrily. “I cannot believe that you are smoking again! You know I'm allergic to the smoke! When we get home you are washing your mouth out with soap! And just see if I kiss you again!”

Spike watched his angry lover turn away and stomp down the street, only to pause and shout over his shoulder, “That goes for sex too! None for a whole darn month!” Then he resumed his angry march back to their apartment.

Spike was still on his knees, looking after his angry lover forlornly. He was screwed now. Well, figuratively at least. If Finch kept his threat, he wouldn't be getting any for the next 30 days.

There was a sort of muffled choking sound behind him and he turned, still on his knees, to see what it was. His ex-opponent, Derek was apparently trying not to laugh, as Jill had both hands clamped over his mouth, stifling his snorts. But he managed to push her away and he guffawed and pointed at Spike, who rose to his feet angrily.

“You're a fucking fag! Hah! That's hilarious! And you're whipped too! Fucking priceless!”

Spike now stood in front of the laughing man, glaring down at him. He watched Derek look up with amused eyes.

“What? You gonna retaliate? You can't! Hah! Your bitch will get mad!” He cracked up all over again.

Spike just growled, cracking his knuckles again. “See, here's the thing. He's already mad at me. I can't make him madder. And he's not my bitch.” Spike smiled crazily cocking back his fist. “I'm his.”

Derek's laughter quickly turned into pained screams.

-------------------

The front door didn't make a sound as he swung it open, entering their apartment. He let out rush of breath in relief. He did not want Finch to catch him red-handed. Literally. That bastard Derek had been a gusher. All over his hands. But thankfully not on his jacket.

The trip to the bathroom was uninterrupted and he showered and brushed his teeth, knowing that he was probably going to have to sleep on the couch, but not wanting to risk being booted out if he was allowed to sleep in their room just cause he smelled like cheap liquor and smoke.

The living room was still empty when he left the bathroom and he figured that Finch was most likely already asleep. On tip-toes, he made his way to the bedroom and pushed open the door.

Oh fuck.

Finch was most definitely not asleep.

The lamp had a red cloth over it and cast a amber glow about the room and his lover sat on the bed, wearing only his special silk half-robe which stopped right at the bottom curve of his backside, exposing long creamy cocoa legs. It was parted in the front, tied only at his hips, showing his bare chest and dark pink nipples.

Spike gulped. Surely he didn't want to...No, he couldn't want to. Yet, Finch only wore that robe when he was feeling in the mood. Spike didn't want to get his hopes up and he cleared his throat. “Uh, Baby? I thought you said, uh...No sex...Right?”

Finch leaned forward onto his hands and knees, smiling seductively, and Spike held back a groan, knowing that if he moved to the other side of the bed, he'd have an unobstructed view of his lover's exposed bottom.

“I know I said that, but on the way home, I realized what you said was true. You did need to get that out of your system. You had such a rough childhood and I've only known you for 4 months. I love you and I know you love me, but I can't make you give all that up for me.”

“Wait, Finch, no that's not-”

Finch cut him off, laying back as he spoke. “Shush, don't argue. Just come here and love me.”

Spike needed no further instruction and his clothes practically flew off him as he leaped onto the bed, covering his boyfriend's slightly smaller frame. Their mouths crashed together and Spike wound his arms around him, suckling at his lower lip sharply.

Their kisses were always frantic, desperate, full of need and longing, ever since they first kissed.

Spike had met Finch on an airplane. He'd been leaving town to go stay at a relative's empty vacation home, needing to get away from the local cops.

Right in the seat next to him had been the sweet, smiling boy who was actually one year older than him. They'd struck up a conversation, Finch not being intimidated at all by Spike's criminal-like appearance; dark clothes, day-old stubble, tattoos on his arms, and his dark, piercing eyes.

Spike actually found himself opening up, sharing his troubled past, his troubled present, and his soon-to-be-troubled future. Finch had listened and been sympathetic, but not gentle at all. He'd slapped Spike on the forehead and told him he was in charge of himself, so if he threw away his life, then the only one to blame would be himself, not his past.

His surprise at being struck had been so great, that Spike could only laugh. No one had ever been so bold with him and he liked it. He'd asked out the kind-hearted boy, who'd accepted, and they'd been together ever since. Their relationship had been easy, but Spike had been surprised by one thing.

For all his gentle and kind ways, Finch was an absolute hell-cat in bed. He screeched, bit, bucked, hissed, and begged for more, always leaving Spike with something bleeding the next day.

Not that he wanted it any other way. His sexual appetites were always thoroughly fulfilled.

At the moment, he was suckling at that sensitive spot on Finch's neck that made him howl like a coyote.

“Ooorrooooh! Yes!”

His hips bucked sharply into Spike's stomach, pressing his arousal into his skin. Spike felt the skin on his back tingle numbly as Finch's nails raked down his back, almost breaking the skin. With a hickey starting to form, he slid down and teased his nipples, licking and sucking them to redness as Finch humped his belly, legs wrapped around his middle.

“Oh Danny! Oh Yes! Hurry! I can't wait! Please!”

Spike chuckled, surprised at his lover's eagerness. Usually they played for a long time before getting to the final act. Spike raised up to reach for the lube and Finch stopped him, spreading his legs.

“You don't have to. I got myself ready for you already...”

Oh dear god, Spike almost came right then, imagining his love jabbing slim fingers inside himself and moaning like he always did when he was impaled. He got to his knees and guided himself to the glistening opening, seeing the rosy puckered skin flushed and ready.

Just as he was about to slid in, Finch stopped him with his foot. “Wait.”

Spike almost screamed. “What! Oh god, don't change your mind now!”

Finch only smiled. “No of course not, but I think you should still be punished for smoking.”

He sighed heavily and sat back, waiting for it.

“I should tie you up.”

Obsidian eyes blinked in surprise. “Huh?” That wasn't really a punishment in his eyes. More like a massive turn-on. Letting the smaller boy tie him up and ride him.

“Yeah, that way you can't touch me. That's your punishment.”

The answer was immediate. “Yeah! I mean, if that's what you want.”

Finch's smile was odd. “Yes. It is.”

“Well, let's go then!” He flopped onto his back and held up his hands, waiting. He watched his lover grab several belts from his closet and come back to him. His wrists were strung to separate posts, spreading him wide. Then, to his surprise, Finch started to do the same to his ankles. “Hey! Wait! You didn't say anything about my legs!”

Nothing was said and he was already bound to the four corners of his bed. It left him feeling vulnerable and anxious. But then Finch was climbing back into the bed and straddling his hips. There were still no words as the boy reached between them to position Spike's cock and slowly sink down onto it.

“Oh god!” Spike groaned in bliss at the velvety tight feel of his partner. The tight clamping muscles slowly clenched around him and he pulsed, almost too close to the edge.

Something was wrong though. Finch wasn't making any noise. He usually made enough noise to wake the dead, but now he was silent. Spike glanced up and saw his love, staring down at him with the strangest expression on his face.

“F-Finch? You okay?”

“Oh yes, just want to make sure you're alright like that.”

Thank goodness. Finch's silence had scared him. “Yeah, I'm fine. You...wanna move now or something?”

The only answer was Finch slowly lifting himself and sliding back down, dropping back his head and moaning like himself.

“Oooooh, yeah, you're so big, so good, so thick, oh Danny!”

His rythym was quick and deep, exactly what Spike needed to reach his peak fast. “Oh fuck! Hang on Baby! I'm getting too close!”

His lover bent down and gave him a satisfied smirk. “Let me know when you're about to come, okay? I want you to come on my face.”

That was new. Finch usually shied away from the messier aspects of sex. That fact had Spike sorely tempted to just jerk off on him one day. Partly because he wanted to freak the other out, but mostly because he was forbidden to do so and he wanted nothing else since it had been labeled off-limits. Finch's permission had him almost at the zenith and he choked out his warning. “I'm close! Oh fuck, I'm really close!”

The brunette slipped off his cock and Spike's head fell back to the pillow at the loss of sensation, but then then was movement between his legs and he lifted his head to watch the show. Whoa, wait a minute. Something just snapped around his manhood. And his balls too. One glance told him it was a cock ring. “Finch...? Honey? Uh...what's that for?”

To his horror, Finch's anger was once again set on his face. “That? Oh, that's your real punishment. You're going to sit there and think about how important your old life is. Do you really want to be suspended in the past? Or do you want to experience what the future feels like?” One hot finger traced up the underside of his cock and he shuddered, pleasure intense enough to make him orgasm, but not achieving it. “The release of becoming a new man. The pleasure of changing for the better. Well? Do you?”

His reply was choked. “Y-Yes! God, Y-Yes! Just please! I need to come!”

“Well, I need you to stop fighting and smoking. I don't want you to get killed either by a mistake or from cancer. So you just think about that and I'm going to go eat some dinner. When I feel like you've thought for enough time, then I'll come take the ring off, but I won't untie you. And I won't let you come. You'll have to just think gross thoughts to get yourself out of that predicament.”

Spike was amazed. In horrible aroused pain, but still amazed. “You can't be serious! That's-that's sadistic!”

Finch scowled at him. “I learned from the best.” He turned and fixed his robe as he walked to the door. He paused in the archway, and glared back at Spike. “Oh, and I can't believe you actually wanted to cum on my face! That's disgusting, Daniel. And to think I would want that! It's disgusting and degrading. This isn't porn. I should leave that thing on all night, but I don't want to damage you. I expect I'll want to sleep with you again eventually.”

Spike paled. Damage? What damage? “What do you mean by damage?”

Finch rolled his eyes. “If you leave those rings on for too long, it can make you impotent or break the blood vessels in your penis.” He turned to leave again.

“Hey! Don't leave me like this! I don't want a broken dick!”

But his love was gone already. Spike lay spread-eagled on the bed, cock throbbing painfully between his legs and he whimpered, knowing that the itch to fight would never again rise up and that nicotine withdrawal could never compare with this feeling. Hell, he could quit heroin after feeling this pain.

But god help him, he still loved his tormentor.


THE END


AN: Would anyone be interested in a PREQUEL to this? Like, I actually write out how they met? Let me know.


If you like this story, please go to my author page and check out my other stuff. It's all boy/boy stuff. Some other Originals (which I HIGHLY recommend), and some fanfics. THANKS!