RockStarPeach

Written for the Halloween nekid numbers at nekid_spike . I got Connor, forest, pumpkin. Heh.

Title: No Payment Required

Pairing: Spike/Connor

Summary: Bs7, As5. Connor gets lost in the woods. Spike is kind.

Rating: Adult

Connor sat on the hard packed dirt of the forest floor, elbows resting on his bent knees and hunched against the trunk of a giant tree. The bark was scratching his back through the long sleeved t-shirt he wore, and he toed at the remains of what was once a very impressive pumpkin.

He’d been on his way home from the grocery store, with his still intact pumpkin, pretty pleased with himself, smiling, actually smiling, because he could just picture the look on Cordelia’s face, the way she would grin and laugh and throw her arms around him when she saw the surprise, when he’d heard a scream, and turned to see a woman doing her best to fight off some kind of demon that Connor couldn’t identify, by hitting it with her purse.

And she had been losing. So Connor, The Destroyer, ever the valiant hero of the people, much more heroic than Angel, hadn’t hesitated to intervene, telling the woman to get to safety as the demon ran off and he chased after it.

The chase had taken a while, probably almost fifteen minutes, as they ran at near top speed, Connor carrying his pumpkin, until the demon seemed to lose some stamina and turned into a small patch of urban forest, hoping to lose Connor in the trees.

Why the demon hadn’t just stayed to fight him, Connor didn’t know, but he couldn’t say that he hadn’t gotten off on it being afraid of him. Maybe his reputation had proceeded him, or maybe this type of demon was just a coward that only preyed on those he perceived to be weaker than him.

It didn’t really matter though, because he was a demon, and he’d been trying to hurt someone, and Connor had a responsibility, not that he didn’t enjoy it, to find it, which he did, quickly, and kill it, which he also did, after a brief scuffle that resulted in his precious pumpkin being smashed to bits when Connor had been knocked to the ground on top of it.

And now there was the dead body of a demon lying ten meters away, and his pumpkin was garbage, and he was bruised and dirty and lost in a forest. He hadn’t even known Los Angeles had forests. He was assuming he was still in LA, but he wasn’t all that familiar with the city, except the area immediately surrounding the decrepit old building that he and Cordy currently called home, and the area around the Hyperion, and the route between the two locations.

And right now, he wasn’t in either of those places, he didn’t really know where he was, and sure he wasn’t an idiot and would be able to find his way back without too much trouble, but he was pumpkinless and he had had to scrape two dollars and forty-nine cents out of some wishing fountain just to be able to buy the first one, and he didn’t want to have to go back empty handed.

Not that Cordeila would know he was empty handed. He hadn’t told her where he was going, or what he was planning to get, but for the last week or so, with Halloween approaching and people decorating their homes and businesses, and costume displays in shop windows, Cordy had been remembering how much she used to love the holiday, before hellbeasts and wizards had begun to ruin it.

Her memory was still foggy, she still couldn’t remember much, and Halloween was something and Connor desperately wanted to make her happy, do something to brighten up her day a little, and he thought – pumpkin. If he could pick out the best one, bring it home, she’d be pleased, she’d see he had worth, that he could provide for her, make her happy as well as protect her, and they could laugh and play and carve it together, though Connor didn’t quite understand that tradition, and it would be good.

Now that wasn’t going to happen, and he knew he should get back, because Cordy would be wondering where he’d gone and he sighed, was about to stand and try to find his way back to someplace familiar, when his body began to tingle, in that way it did when he knew a demon was near, and he heard a voice from behind him.

***

Spike was tired of being crazy, of having the first use him as its bitch, of seeing things that weren’t there, of being forced to kill people, enjoy it, and forget that it had happened. He’d needed to get out of Sunnydale for a while, get away from the source of the pain, the crazy, not that he was fooling himself he could be gone long. No, they needed him, and he deserved whatever he suffered when he was there, but the past couple of days had been slow, the first regrouping, and he needed to do a little bit of regrouping himself.

Getting out of town for the night, having a few drinks, maybe a shag, try not to kill them or think about Buffy, and making a few humans piss there pants with his scary face, like back in the old days when he knew who and what he was, sounded like just the thing to take his mind off everything and help him relax.

He’d already had the few drinks, and it was a bit early to go looking for a shag, a decent one at least, but it was just past dark and he thought he might be able to get some of the scaring in. He left whatever hole in the wall bar he’d been in and headed down the street looking for something to keep him occupied, but mostly just enjoying the quiet in his head. No voices, no whispers, no burning desires to commit murder. Just him and his guilt. He could get used to this.

He had a feeling he was heading out of town, rather than into it, but he didn’t much care where he ended up. He soon passed a small forest in the middle of an industrial neighbourhood he heard a rapid heartbeat and heavy breathing, and he could smell sweat and he thought, ‘why not?’

Some kids had probably been getting in a little slap and ticle, and they were always fun to mess with, so he walked into the woods, quietly as he could, but when he came across one lone boy, leaning against a tree and looking like he’d just lost his puppy, he frowned. Then he shrugged. Oh well. Fun was fun and maybe he could get a laugh by sending the little boy home, running and screaming. Maybe even make him cry.

He knew he shouldn’t want to do things like this. He had his soul now, and he shouldn’t like the idea of finding other people’s fear funny, but he did. He was trying to, anyway. If he caused any permanent damage he’d probably feel bad, but it was Halloween, so he could get away with seeming like any other regular human jerk tonight.

***

“Well, well,” Spike said, smirking even though the kid wouldn’t have been able to see it. He was sure he could hear it though, his voice smooth and just a little creepy. “What have we got here? Poor little boy, all alone in the woods.”

“Vampire,” Connor growled, and slowly raised his head, but didn’t turn it to look behind him, body tensing and ready for a fight.

“What?” Spike asked, confused and making a face. “No you’re not. I can hear your heart… Oh, me,” he said, mumbling, understanding. “Well, yeah. How’d you know?” The kid hadn’t even seen him, and he was a boy, so he obviously wasn’t a slayer…

“I just know. My parents were vampires,” Connor told him, not really understanding how he’d gotten any of his abilities, but then again, he didn’t understand how he could have existed in the first place.

Spike snorted. “That’s rough, kid,” he said. It must be terrible to have to watch your parents killed and turned into something evil. He should know. He’d done it to enough kids. And obviously Spike’s fun was ruined, because this kid didn’t seem scared in the least, and Spike didn’t know why he wasn’t just turning around and walking away. “So what you doin’ all alone in the woods on a night like tonight?”

“I was out getting a pumpkin,” Connor said, dreary and defeated, fingers picking up some of the guts and seeds, and squishing them. His body relaxed a little, upset again about not having the gift he’d wanted for Cordy, and sensing, for some reason that this vampire wasn’t exactly a threat. It shouldn’t matter though, he should still kill him, because he was a vampire, and he was evil, but honestly Connor just couldn’t drum up the enthusiasm for a kill just now.

“Er… in the forest?” Spike asked, taking a step closer and seeing the remains of the pumpkin between the boy’s legs. “It’s not some kind of magic, forest growing, spell casting pumpkin, is it? Cause I had a little incident with a belt this one time…”

“No,” Connor said, very slowly, and sounding like he thought the demon was a little crazy, or some kind of moron. “Just a regular pumpkin. I got it at the store. It got… squashed.” He looked up at the vampire behind him, giving him a look that matched his tone, and then froze, his face turning hard. He knew this guy. Well, he didn’t know him, but he’d heard about him, stories, from Cordy and Angel, had seen pictures, and he knew he was trouble.

“Hey,” Spike said when the kid turned around, brows furrowed in concentration. “Don’t I know you?”

“Spike,” Connor growled again, and again Spike didn’t quite get it.

“No, I think… right, me. Yeah. Connor right?” He’d heard about the kid. Listened to Angel cry in his beer over him one secret night when they’d gotten together and not tried to kill each other for a change, and Angel had pulled Connor’s photo’s out of his wallet, proud daddy of a psychotic demon killing machine who hated everything about him, and Spike had held him that night, all night, and tried to take away some of the pain.

“Angelus told me about you,” Connor said, getting up, stalking slowly toward Spike, attempting to seem threatening. “Told me you were dangerous, trouble.”

“Yeah,” Spike said, sighing and rolling his eyes. He didn’t care what Angel had said, what this kid’s reputation was, he was skinny and short and looked kind of like a girl, albeit it a really handsome one, and there was no way in hell Spike was going to be afraid of him. “Settle down, kid. I’m a lot different these days. And I hear your old man is going by ‘Angel’ now. Something about a soul…”

“What the hell would you know about it?” Connor demanded, moving even closer to Spike, and pissed off, not because he was a vampire this time, but because it sounded suspiciously like he was defending his father.

“Lot more than you’d think,” Spike told him with a snicker. “Probably a lot less, too. Dunno. It’s… confusing.” And why the hell was he even talking to this boy about this?

Connor barked out a short laugh, finding that funnier than he probably should, but then again, his entire relationship with his vampire father was confusing, to say the least, and it was refreshing that someone else felt the same way, and wasn’t trying to tell him how perfect Angel was for once.

“I get that,” he said and backed up a bit. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

“Not really,” Spike answered. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about his soul, or Angel, or Angel’s soul, especially with this kid who looked about Dawn’s age, and much less mature, and had come out of Darla, but the boy obviously needed someone, needed to talk, needed to listen, and big surprise, the bloody pouf wasn’t around, and it looked like he was going to have to pick up the slack. He was getting good at that.

“Fine,” he sighed, and watching Connor smile and sit down on the ground, joined him, and lit up a cigarette. “What do you want to hear?”

***

Connor asked and Spike talked. About his own soul and how he got it, and why, about Angel and Angelus and how there wasn’t as much of a difference as the oaf liked to pretend, but more of one than Connor was willing to see, and about how much Spike knew that Angel loved Connor, wanted him in his life, would do anything for his safety, his happiness.

Spike was kind to him, laughed and joked and promised him that everything would work out, even if he didn’t believe it, because Angel was on his side, and Angel was a champion. A stupid, brooding, funny-haired, irritating, know-it-all champion, but he’d make sure Connor was alright.

Spike listened to Connor whine, bitch, about Angel and how much of a bastard he was and about how none of them understood, how they expected everything to be normal when it couldn’t be, and Spike understood, telling him that he’d never be normal, but that it was okay, because normal was overrated anyway, and they’d all come around.

And Connor appreciated it. And during his early days in the city he’d learned what you were supposed to do for someone when they were kind to you, when they helped you out, and he’d always hated it, always shut his mind down and pretended it wasn’t happening, but with Spike… Angel had been wrong. Spike was one of the good guys, demon or not, and Connor found, after this short time together, that he was really starting to like him, like having someone who understood, who didn’t seem to want him to be someone he wasn’t. And he’d been lacking any sort of affection, pleasant physical contact with anyone for so long, and he wasn’t really that surprised that he genuinely wanted to do this.

He wasn’t casual, or suave, wouldn’t have known how to be, and when there was a sufficient lull in the conversation and Spike was looking wistful about something, plucking a piece of grass from the ground in front of them between his thumb and forefinger, Connor got up on his knees and leant over, grabbing Spike’s shoulders hard in his hands and covering the surprised vampires lips in his, pressing much harder than a normal human would have appreciated.

Spike managed to keep his mouth shut, despite Connor’s questing tongue jabbing at his lips, and pulled away, pressing a hand against Connor’s chest and moving the boy back. “Woah,” he said, eyes wide and shaking his head. “Hang on just a tick, there, junior. Are you sure that’s just a regular pumpkin?” he asked, eyeing the goopy remains.

“What?” Connor asked, not having any idea how that related to what was going on at the moment.

Spike made a vague sound of frustration and removed his hand from Connor’s chest, nodding once when the kid stayed put. “What the bloody hell are you doing?”

Connor looked down, ashamed, face turning slightly red, and Spike could hear the blood rushing to his cheeks, and it wasn’t doing anything to tamp down his arousal. Not that he was all that aroused, or hadn’t been until 5 seconds ago when he’d had a lapful and mouthful of horny, willing teenage boy. But damn, it was wrong. For a whole lot of reasons, not the least of which was that he was Angel’s son. And the kid was kind of annoying, in a bizarrely likeable sort of way, but it hadn’t crossed his mind, in the hour they’d spent talking, to try to shag him. Hmm. He really must have changed.

“You were being nice,” Connor said, not looking up. “And I thought…”

“You thought that if two people are nice to each other they should have a bit of a snog?” Spike once would have been able to see the logic in that.

“I thought you’d want it,” Connor hissed, embarrassed and hurting that Spike didn’t want him, that he wasn’t good enough. Not for someone like this. Only for those drunken, low-life, dealers and thieves that hung around a few blocks from his building. He should have known.

“Well I don’t!” Spike almost shouted, a little too exuberantly. Only, he did a little. And the more he thought about it, the more he did. Connor was cute, and oddly sweet, and it was nice to find someone that actually wanted to be around him, and wasn’t just putting up with him because they felt obligated, or because he could help them defeat unspeakable evils. “You’re Angel’s son, for Christ’s sake!”

“Right, I get it,” Connor said, standing, and stepping on some pumpkin flesh. “Why the hell would you want me?”

Spike huffed out a breath and tried not to sound too exasperated, because that never made people feel better, and stood as well. “For the love of…” he started, and took a breath, trying again. “You don’t have to act like such a dramatic little brat about it!” Okay, that probably wasn’t much better. “I don’t understand why you’re so upset. You don’t owe me anything.” And Spike was pretty damn sure that the boy thought he did, or where the hell had that come-on come from? He shrugged. “I was nice to you. Yeah, s’a bit of a rarity, but… you needed it, and I wasn’t doing anything else. I don’t need payment.”

“But…” Connor started, stepping close to Spike again, still not meeting his eyes. “What if I want to? Pay?”

“You don’t.”

“How the hell do you know what I want?”

“You’re feeling appreciative, cause I listened, told you what you wanted to hear, and you’re lonely, and you need someone. Trust me, I know how you feel. Been there.” He left out the part about him sort of being there right now. “This isn’t the answer. To whatever the hell your problem is. And Angel would kill you.” He smiled and snorted. “Kill me too. Me mostly, actually.”

“But wouldn’t that make it more fun?” Connor smirked, and wondered why the hell he was bothering. Spike clearly wasn’t interested, and he was only making himself look sad. “Knowing that it would really piss my father off?”

Spike shivered, and not a good kind of shiver. “First, stop calling him your father. ‘S creepy, even if it is true. And second… yeah,” he said, sounding like he’d just realised something. “Now that you mention it, the thought of pissing of tall dark and broody makes just about anything sound like a good idea.”

Connor smiled and moved forward, pressing himself against Spike and reaching his hand down to grab the bulge in Spike’s pants, squeezing and caressing, attempting to tease him to hardness.

“Wait!” Spike squeaked and jumped back. “That wasn’t… I wasn’t saying ‘let me fuck you please’, I was just…”

“But you want to, don’t you?” he asked, more uncertain than anything, and just hoping that he’d be wanted.

“Yeah,” Spike said, evenly. “I do.” And it was true, but he certainly didn’t want to be anything to this kid other than a few minutes entertainment, didn’t want to be in the position of offering approval, or validation, but if he walked away now, he just knew Connor would feel like shit, and he’d had enough of that. And… he really was pretty. Hell, he was the child of Angel and Darla, he couldn’t help it.

“Okay,” Connor breathed out, relieved. He unbuttoned his pants and turned around, ready to kneel on the ground and let Spike take him, just that easy, but Spike’s hand on his elbow stopped him.

“We’re not doing…” Spike started, and swore under his breath when he saw Connor’s face drop. He leaned forward and kissed the boy, sweetly, on the lips, but didn’t deepen it, wasn’t really interested as Connor brushed his hips forward against Spike’s and his attention was diverted elsewhere. Spike jerked back and shot his hand forward, grabbing Connor’s crotch, and working his hard cock out from the confines of his pants.

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he said again, working his hand over the warm, hard flesh, as Connor’s sounds and smells of arousal only ramped up his own. Shit, this was going to be harder than he thought. “We can do this, we can make each other feel good, but we’re not having sex. I’m not that suicidal,” he added, thinking again of Angel’s reaction and getting even harder.

“I want to make you feel good,” Connor agreed, and blindly sought out Spike’s still clothed dick, working the buttons on his pants open and jerking his hips forward into the cool, comforting touch, tilting his chin up for anther kiss.

Spike granted it, but it wasn’t any more involved than the last one, smooth, hard lips pressing gently against young soft ones, careful, playful. He let Connor work his cock out of his pants and he stilled and twitched when the hot hand encircled him and began to move, and he didn’t stop pumping Connor.

Not even a minute later Connor stopped, moved back, and Spike was about to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, because Spike hadn’t started this, but damn, he really needed to finish it, and Connor sunk to his knees, taking Spike into his mouth, wrapping his hand around his own erection and working it as he sucked Spike down.

“Jesus… Fuck!” Spike shouted, not having expected either the action itself, or how fantastic it would feel. The last warm mouth he’d had around him had been The Slayer, and that had been a while ago, and he knew he shouldn’t even be letting Connor get this far, but it felt way too good to stop him.

Connor didn’t use much finesse, hadn’t learnt to, hadn’t had any reason to, and he worked quickly and efficiently to get both himself and Spike off. A few minutes later Spike was coming, pumping forward into Connor’s eager mouth, not even thinking about his need to breath, not really caring, and Connor didn’t either. He loved it. It only meant that someone was interested in him, wanted him so badly that they couldn’t think of anything else.

He didn’t really like the taste of Spike, hadn’t liked the taste of anybody, and thought he would probably have preferred to do this to a girl, but none so far had been willing, and when Spike shot in his mouth he had to try not to gag, like he always did. But the fact that Spike was so obviously enjoying himself, and hadn’t forced this on him, wanted him and whispered his actual name when he came and not ‘slut’ or ‘whore’ or ‘bitch’ like all the other men did, was enough to push Connor over the edge, and he sped up his hand, and he emptied himself over squishy bits of orange and scattered pumpkin seeds, swallowing and panting.

Connor immediately stood, not used to taking even a second to recover from this kind of thing, and tucked himself back in, wiping his sticky hand on his pants. “Thanks,” he said, because Spike had been nice, and that’s what you said when someone was nice to you.

“You really haven’t been in this city long, have you?” Spike asked, but didn’t expect an answer. “You’ve got some pumpkin on your knee.”

Connor looked down and saw that he did. “Yeah,” he said with a shrug. “It was a present. For… someone special. But…”

“But what?” Spike asked, fastening his pants. “Just go get a new one. There’s a corner market just a few blocks down.” He didn’t mention that if the kid had a ‘someone special’, he probably shouldn’t be blowing strange vampires in the woods. He had one of those, too, but it didn’t mean that he was as special to her as she was to him.

He reached into his duster pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill, passing it to Connor. “Here,” he said, trying not to feel like he was paying the kid for services rendered. And totally ripping him off. “Get a real nice one.”

“I’m not a whore,” Connor scowled, but pocketed the money anyway. Cordy deserved it.

“Sure you’re not,” Spike answered, and didn’t know whether or not he was being serious. The kid obviously had been, had been willing to whore for Spike tonight, had practically begged for it, but he believed him when he said he wasn’t. Not anymore. “’M just helpin’ you out.”

“Thanks,” Connor mumbled, and Spike smiled at him, forced though it was, and moved toward the boy to place one last kiss on his lips, swift and hard, trying to say ‘your welcome’ or ‘thank you’ he wasn’t sure, and it didn’t really matter. They’d both gotten something out of this, but now it was over, and Spike had somewhere to be, someone to help, and Connor did too.

END