Second Verse
Chapter 4 -- Insecurities
Xander had not yet found enough brain cells to point out that he didn't know a Cassidy before Blue Eyes, correction—Spike, disappeared into the crowd. Only then did Xander look around and realize that he had just been returned to his regularly scheduled nightmare, still in progress. Quite a few men silently watched him with knowing smiles, and Xander watched as several nudged or pulled over friends and partners, pointing toward Xander and whispering meaningfully. Soon, T's prediction came true and more customers watched Xander blush deeply and retrieve the tray than watched the dancer currently prancing down the runway.
He considered making a mad dash for the kitchen. Oh well, he told himself, he had publicly humiliated himself and lost the best paying job he had ever held, but at least he had enough money to carry him through a month of job searching. Maybe T would still let him wash dishes, he mused as he considered the distance between himself and the kitchen door. Deciding that a dash would probably end up with him fishing potato skins off the floor for a second time, Xander decided to go for the dignified retreat, not easy in cum-stained jeans. Xander groaned as he realized the jeans weren't even his. Good news: he didn't have to walk home like this. Bad news: he owed someone for one very expensive pair of jeans. Mike or Matt, he thought to himself as he tried to remember whose jeans he had just ruined. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't register that several members of the crowd had moved in on him until he looked up.
When a thick arm circled his waist, Xander jumped, and struggled to right the tray before he dumped it back on the floor. Obviously he had no business carrying the thing. "Nice show," a deep voice rumbled in his ear as a ten dollar bill appeared in front of him before the hand that held it slowly sank down and fingers slipped under the front of his jeans. The fingers continued to invade until Xander felt the paper suddenly slide easily into the slippery cream that filled his jeans. The hand withdrew and the slightly damp fingers slid up under his shirt and rubbed the substance into his skin. Xander stood silent, shocked, his fingers closing on the edge of the tray until the knuckles turned white. He couldn't imagine how his heart managed to beat with all his blood in his face which burned with shame.
"Lovely," a second voice added as an older man with salt and pepper hair came up on Xander's right and slid his empty hand down the front of Xander's jeans until his fingers found the dampness. Xander felt the fingers press into his skin and slide along a couple of inches before the older man pulled his hand out with the collected cum pooling between two fingers. "Just lovely," the man intoned as his second hand held up a fifty. The man's damp fingers reached up toward Xander, and Xander pulled back sharply, or at least tried to. The thick arm tightened as Xander simply managed to push himself back into the first man's embrace. Xander felt the weight of the arm and the press of other men crowding in as the cum-covered fingers approached his mouth. "Be a good boy," the older man cajoled as he held up the fifty. When the fingers touched his lips, Xander opened his mouth with a small whimper that caused the man behind him to laugh. The older man slipped his fingers into Xander's mouth and rubbed the salty, slightly sour taste over Xander's tongue as other men now stepped up and slid their tips into Xander's jeans.
After a moment, Xander watched as the older man's face slowly turned into a frown even though the fingers remained in Xander's mouth. Xander's brain had long since turned off, and so he simply gazed back until the man leaned in and whispered, "Suck, boy." Without a second thought, Xander began to suck; he had often had fantasies of men, but this surpassed even his wildest ones. He couldn't help feeling like he had fallen into some dream and would soon wake up in his own bed. Feeling this dream-like trance settle in over his mind, Xander felt free—free to do anything since he would soon wake and find that he had imagined it all.
In this trance like state, he sucked harder and then began to tongue the fingers enthusiastically. His hips thrust up to meet the probing hands even though his own erection could not meet the challenge of a third performance without more recovery time. The older man left his fingers in Xander's mouth even as he slipped the fifty dollar bill down the back of Xander's jeans, his fingers running as far as they could down Xander's crack given the tightness of the jeans and the fingers exploring the front of the jeans. Xander continued to suck and caress the fingers even after the hand had deposited the fifty and withdrawn and the older man slid his free hand through Xander's thick hair, pushing the curls away from this face. "So lovely," he finally announced as he pulled his fingers out of Xander's mouth. Xander's eyes remained fixed on the gray-haired man until a darker complexion moved into his line of sight.
"Xander?" Xander heard the voice, but his eyes hadn't quite focused since blue eyes had left him leaning against the wall. He did suddenly register the lack of warmth behind him suggesting that the man in whose embrace he had stood just a moment ago had left him.
"Xander?!" the voice repeated more insistently, and Xander looked up into Carlos' worried face. "Are you okay?" Carlos asked as he slipped an arm around Xander's shoulders and glared at the few remaining customers who now hurried to back off.
"Yeah," Xander replied slowly, "I'm just fine." He didn't even convince himself with his weak and trembling voice, and he felt Carlos' arm pulling him toward the kitchen.
"Yeah, right," Carlos snorted sarcastically. "When I catch Billy, I'm going to beat the crap outta him for leaving you alone." Carlos promised as he steered Xander around several people and through the kitchen door. Xander only half listened as he continued to walk in his dream-like state and think about Spike pinning him against the wall.
"Shit, what happened to the boy?" T asked as he tossed a baking sheet aside and took the tray from Xander.
"He dumped a tray of your skins on the floor," Carlos jutted his chin out toward the tray of mangled potato skins.
"Fuck the potatoes, what happened to him?" T asked, but Xander couldn't find the strength to do anything except brace himself against the metal table and take deep breaths in an attempt to restart his brain. "Xander?" T called his name gently as he walked around the table and laid a hand on the small of Xander's back.
"Well there's the tip stealer," a high-pitched male voice called out as Xander heard the slap of a stripper's sandals against the tile of the kitchen floor. "Did you see him out there?" the indignant voice demanded as the slapping noise came closer. Xander lowered his forehead to the prep table and prepared to be humiliated and fired—in exactly that order.
"What happened?" T asked the nameless stripper.
"He and some guy were hot and heavy on the floor—had a whole audience for it. Not sure, but I think the boy even finished the deed if the reactions of the audience were anything to go by. I'm out there shaking my ass, and he does the whole trembling, blushing virgin bit, blows his load in the middle of the floor, and steals every tip in the house." The voice snorted derisively.
"You outta be in pictures, 'cause you're one damn good actor with your whole wide-eyes, 'don't know what to do' act you have going," the voice stopped just behind Xander, but Xander didn't move—just let this be over and let T quietly fire him, that's all he hoped for at this point. "Just tone it down during my show or I'll show you," the voice finished with a threat. Xander didn't think the threat entirely necessary since T would shortly fire him, but he couldn't blame the stripper.
"Luis, you cool it or you'll be shaking that ass on the street," T retorted. "Xander?" T asked quietly, hand still on his back even as Xander leaned over the table. "That what happened?"
"Yeah, pretty much," Xander agreed. The details didn't matter and that is what basically happened.
"Carlos?" Xander heard the sharpness in T's voice and he braced himself to be forcibly thrown from the club. Luckily T was calling for Carlos, who Xander hoped would only shove him out the door and not actually throw him. Of course Carlos was entirely large enough to throw Xander if ordered, hell the man could probably bench press him, he realized with a start. He wondered if they would let him get his clothes or if he would have to walk home in the cum-stained jeans after all. If he got home. The vamps were out in force lately and he wouldn't call Gunn for an escort with his jeans still stained from his most recent humiliation. Xander mentally pulled himself to a halt to review the latest words he thought he heard T say. Reality didn't seem to be meeting expectations, so he listened more carefully. Yep, T was angry at Carlos for leaving him alone.
"I just went to change, and I ordered Billy to keep an eye on him," Carlos defended himself against the accusation Xander had only half-heard T make. "I didn't know things would get so out of hand, and I trusted Billy to keep him safe…I won't make that mistake again," Carlos finished with a growl. Xander struggled to understand what was going on. It sure didn't seem like T had fired him, so he peeked over his arm to look at the thin black man. Yep, T looked angry as stick-poked bear, but the scowl pinned Carlos in place and the hand now moved in small circles on Xander's back.
"Wasn't his fault," Xander managed to murmur as he started to push himself up from the table. Since he wasn't fired, he had to show some pride, and hiding his face in his arms while the boss rubbed his back didn't seem very manly.
"The hell it isn't," T retorted sharply.
"No, it isn't," Xander snapped back. "I saw him call the other bouncer over, and he had to change his pants because of *me,* so if you want to get angry, get angry that I dumped the food on him in the first place." Xander stood up and turned so that T had to let go of his back.
"That was an accident," Carlos interjected quickly. "You didn’t do anything wrong."
"And neither did you," Xander turned to pin Carlos with a glare just as cold as T's own. "I'm a big boy, and you can't blame other people for my mistakes," Xander finished as he turned back to T.
"Honey, I doubt the mistake was yours," T slipped a hand over Xander's arm, and Xander could feel his own muscles tremble beneath the fingers. "What happened?" T asked gently.
"The blond…things got a little out of hand with him," Xander finally admitted. "I thought he wanted a kiss for helping me pick up the mess, but when he backed me into the wall, I knew I was in trouble. I looked for a bouncer, but I couldn't find one. I should have just shoved the guy back and walked away. He was smaller than me," Xander finally admitted. In retrospect, the whole situation should have been easy to handle, but Xander just couldn't stop the shiver as he remembered the blue eyes and the sardonic smile that had immobilized him. T's hand tightened at the feel of the shiver and Xander found T's dark eyes searching him, looking for some sort of answer that Xander didn't have.
"How far did it go?" T finally asked.
"He didn't do more than lean on me, and I ruined the jeans," Xander sheepishly admitted. Xander heard a friendly snort behind him and Charlie appeared in the kitchen.
"If cum ruined clothes, I'd be running around naked by now," the well-built man laughed as he stole one of the fresh potato skins that lay forgotten on the prep table. He had changed out of his work clothes, but the tight green shirt and white pants still made him look like a god. "You want me to make a food run?" he asked T as he pulled a second tray down from the top of the ice machine and began to load the new potato skins and the peanut bowls that waited to be served.
"Please," T agreed with a smile before turning back to Xander with concern still in his eyes, but Charlie hadn't finished yet. He continued talking as he efficiently loaded the tray.
"Good job, Xander. Now that the customers know you're capable of that kind of show, you're going to rake in the big bucks," Charlie ruffled Xander's hair as he walked by with the tray of food held high in one hand. "We're going to have to work a little harder to keep their attention on the runway." With that, Charlie backed through the kitchen door into the main club.
"So I'm not fired?" Xander asked in a small voice. Charlie had given him some hope, but he didn't know whether to believe it. He certainly wouldn't keep his job at the expense of blaming Carlos, but Xander did wonder if his words would simply mean they were both unemployed.
"You thought I'd fire you over this?" T asked with a quick wrinkle above his nose that appeared and disappeared in a flash.
"Well, yeah. I didn't handle the blond guy very well, and then I embarrassed myself in the middle of the club, and then I just sort of stood there shell-shocked and didn't even try to do my job as guys touched me." Xander enumerated his crimes. He wanted T to make his decision based on the truth, and he knew that he hadn't handled the day well at all.
T gave a small defeated sigh. "Xander, you not only have a job, but I'd give you a raise just to keep you, not that you need one," T commented as he gestured toward the jeans where a couple of green paper corners stuck out from the waist band where a few timid customers had not pushed them down very far. "You and the blond guy put on a nice show for everyone, and if you're okay with people seeing that, trust me, I have no problem with you doing it. Law says there can't be any touching of genitals, but what you did was both legal and highly entertaining. Some of those men will come back just hoping to see a repeat of that." T's brow quickly wrinkled and smoothed for a second time.
"As far as embarrassing yourself, I'm sorry you aren't comfortable with what happened, but no one is judging you. And your job is to keep customers here and drinking. If the customers stay because of the food—fine. If the customers stay because they're watching you—all the better. It saves me on the cost of chips," T finished as he pulled a box out from under the prep table and began to line up bowls. "However, I think you need the night to recover, so go use Charlie's dressing room to get changed and cleaned up. There's a small bathroom behind the screen. Xander turned to leave, but he didn’t get far before a sound stopped him.
"Xander?" Xander froze at the sound of his name, and when he turned, he found Carlos right behind him, smiling. Carlos held out a stack of money he had been holding for him. "Thanks for sticking up for me," he said quietly enough that T wouldn't hear. Without another word, Carlos turned and followed the path Charlie had taken toward the main club.
"Xander?" This time T called his name, and he silently turned to his boss. "Normally the strippers and food carriers put 10% of their tips in the jar for all the bouncers to split," T nodded toward a jar half full of money that sat on a shelf across from the ovens. "However, Carlos guarded just you tonight. You give your 10% to him and the others will split that pot," T finished.
"But won't that be less money for Carlos?" Xander asked, concerned about losing Carlos part of his income for the night. T only laughed.
"When he was back here changing, he showed me what you got when you dropped the first tray. Trust me, he's better off taking his share from you," T said confidently. "Take advantage while you can, the customers can smell virgin meat, and you'll only get those tips as long as you blush the color of that shirt every time someone calls you cute," T finished as he emptied the bags of corn chips into the waiting bowls.
Xander felt his face warm once again as he proved the accuracy of T's words and quietly crept down the hall toward the end room where he could hopefully have privacy. T's laughter followed him down the hall.
Xander woke with only the light from the hallway showing and a strange quiet throughout the building. He sat up and quickly checked his surroundings. The silk shirt lay folded and draped over the arm of the wooden chair. The newly washed and still damp jeans were draped over the metal partition screen between the bathroom and bedroom. He now wore his baggy jeans and Hawaiian shirt and lay on the floor half on, half off a bean bag chair. He remembered sitting down, but he didn't remember falling asleep. With a surge of panic, Xander leapt up and stepped into the bathroom. Two stacks of money still waited for him: one had mostly fives and tens to make $60, the other had everything from dirty ones to damp tens to a single fifty dollar bill, that stack made up the other $510 Xander had earned. Xander looked at the money in awe, and pocketed the two stacks separately. Stretching his neck which had stiffened in the uncomfortable sleeping position, Xander walked in the silent hall wondering about the time and what had woken him. Usually he didn't wake without serious yelling, cover-pulling, and direct sunlight involved.
"..do more," he heard the tail-end of T's comment as he quietly padded down the hallway. He didn't want to bother T if he were on the phone, but he needed to give T the money for Carlos since the other employees had clearly left.
"Help Xander, and it's even." Xander recognized Gunn's voice. Gunn must have rung the employee buzzer and come in the back, Xander mused. The buzzer was loud enough to be heard over the bustle of rush hour as Xander had discovered when a load of alcohol was delivered and the trucker had rung the buzzer causing Xander to drop a tray. Luckily, that one had been empty.
"How'd he do?" Gunn asked, and Xander froze. He didn't want T to be nice just because he was there, and he really needed to know whether T would tell Gunn about the whole 'obviously homosexual' thing.
"Let's see," T began, and Xander felt his heart tighten. "He dropped three trays—two of them full of food and of course the full ones he dropped on the club floor. He dumped potato skins down the front of one of the bouncers, pissed off a stripper, panicked and humiliated himself when one customer got overly friendly, and had to be rescued by a bouncer when he couldn't get by another rather friendly group," T chuckled and Xander could hear Gunn's open laugh.
"Yeah, that sounds like my boy. Lost his last job when he dropped a crate of glasses on the floor," Gunn agreed. Xander felt the warmth at his eyes, and he struggled to even out his breathing and not cry. When others were around, he could do the whole manly 'don't cry' thing, but when he knew no one was watching, Xander sometimes just couldn't stop the tears. Now, in the privacy of the hallway where the two men couldn't see him, he felt the tears fill his eyes and threaten to fall. The $500 would be enough for the month, he decided. Hell, it was as much as he normally earned in two or three months. He wasn't going to stay when the job and the kind words were obviously just part of some sort of "payment" T felt that he owed Gunn. He hadn't yet slowed his breathing down enough to confront the two men before he heard T continue.
"He has also endeared himself to my security chief, Carlos, and my headline stripper, entertained the entire club with his ability to blush, charmed the bartenders, and caused half my customers to fall completely in love with him, not that he noticed," T finished with a chuckle. "I don't think that boy even noticed that one of my strippers spent the entire time on the catwalk trying to catch Xander's eye, or so Carlos told me. I was too busy back here to watch the fun, but apparently Xander did make for an interesting evening; he has real charm about him, doesn't he." T commented quietly. "I'm glad you sent him."
Xander's breath caught as his emotions swung back once again. He couldn't believe that T had not only kept his secret but expressed an honest desire to have him back. He never felt like he belonged anywhere, not in his LA high school where he was one of the only white kids, not in his Sunnydale junior high where he was the class loser, not in Gunn's crew, not even in his house where he seemed pushed to the side by his parents' fights. Even after the divorce, one screaming match caused both of his parents to completely forget about him. The kind of acceptance T quietly offered seemed entirely foreign to Xander.
"Know what ya mean," Gunn agreed. "Even Luther who hates all white guys can't manage more than a few half-hearted insults when it comes to Xander. Boy's got heart, he'll jump into any fight if it means helping his friends or doing the right thing."
"Yeah, that's what worries me. He's got more heart than common sense," T commented in a voice so quiet Xander had to strain to hear it.
"What happened?" Gunn asked, his voice instantly hard like steel.
"Nothing. I wasn't there, but one of the strippers said that the guy who hassled Xander had a real look to him."
"Look as in…" Gunn let his voice trail off, inviting T to provide more information.
"Don't know," T confessed. "Xander said that he was small, that he could have pushed right by him, but he didn't. Xander stood there until the guy moved on. And the dancer who was on the catwalk said the guy had a real fierce look in his eye." T fell silent again.
"Xander’s got good instincts," Gunn confessed. "He knows when he needs to stay back and when we need the extra help. I've seen Xander go up against vamps, course he got his ass kicked, but he still went in swinging and gave us the extra edge. If Xander froze then something about this guy made him freeze." Silence fell again, and Xander leaned forward to try and hear any words they might whisper, but he didn't hear anything until Gunn gave a sigh. "Maybe he shouldn't come back," Gunn finished. At that, Xander felt his anger rise up. How dare Gunn make that decision for him!
"Guy probably won't come back; he wasn't a regular," T hurried to say. "I wouldn't want to lose Xander; I really need him for the weekend shifts."
"I just don't want to see Xander get…"
"Get hurt?" Xander finished as he walked briskly into the kitchen, trying to make it seem like he had just woken. "Why? What do you have planned that would lead to Xander-hurtage?" Xander asked with his patented naïve smile determined to cut this conversation off. These two men were not going to stand in a kitchen and decide his future for him. The two men in question turned to face him, their elbows rested on the tall metal prep table and each nursed an amber colored drink in a short glass. Xander raised his eyebrows; it wasn't like Gunn to drink before patrol or escort duty. If Xander wanted to get home, they had to go through some pretty active vamp territory.
"No plans, you just seem to find trouble on your own," Gunn laughed as he lifted his drink to his lips.
"Gunn?" Xander asked in a long, drawn out tone. Gunn cocked his head to one side and looked at Xander.
"Yeah?" Gunn replied in the same exaggerated tone.
"Are you planning to get drunk before walking me home? If so, maybe we should save the vamps some trouble and just tie ourselves to a lamp-post as sacrificial victims." Xander gestured toward the nearly empty glass and the half-full bottle of booze between the two men. Xander could see T's lip's twitch.
"I can see your point, but I don't think we really need to worry," Gunn said confidently as he quickly downed the rest of his drink in one gulp.
"Worried? I'm not worried, I'd just like to stay breathing. So, unless you have some super weapon that we can use to get home, maybe you should stop drinking," Xander gestured toward the bottle that Gunn uncorked as he began to pour himself another drink.
"Super weapon—that's a good word for it because it will certainly 100% guarantee that no vampire is going to bother us on the walk home. I could be falling down drunk, and I still know we'd be safe with our super-weapon." Gunn threw back another drink with alarming speed.
"Super weapon?" Xander repeated slowly, and T began to laugh.
"Oh yeah," T agreed. "That big ball of light in the sky does wonders at keeping the vampires at bay."
"Ball of light?" Xander repeated dumbly, only dimly grasping their meaning, and both men burst out laughing.
"It's 11 o'clock in the morning, Xander," Gunn finally explained. "I don't think you need an escort home, and you certainly don't need me to be sober." Gunn sipped this drink more slowly, but he clearly intended on drinking more.
"Damn," Xander quietly whispered. He knew that he felt more rested than he had in days, possibly weeks, but Xander had no idea he had slept so long. With his free hand, Xander reached up to rub the tension out of his shoulder, but in doing so he pushed hard on his scar, a scar left by the vampire who had nearly killed him on the day he met Gunn. A scar Spike had played with the night before. As he pushed, he could feel the warmth in his stomach grow and his cock struggle to react. For years he carried that scar, but until Spike came, he had no idea of its power. Now he dropped his hand awkwardly as the two men looked at him curiously.
For a moment, he worried that they knew of his arousal, but he quickly realized their amused faces came from his confusion over time. "Morning," he squeaked as he concentrated on calming his arousal and his disobedient cock which remained at half-mast. Both men laughed again as Xander rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up you hyenas," Xander snarked. "You wanna unlock the back door for me, boss man?" Xander asked as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and fingered his two piles of money.
"Can do," T replied as he draped his arm over Xander's shoulders and gently pushed him down a new hallway, one that passed a couple of locked storage rooms and a giant freezer before turning at a 90° angle and revealing an EXIT sign. When they turned the corner, Xander pulled out his hand with the $60.
"Give this to Carlos, huh?" Xander asked as he pushed the money into T's hand. T quickly counted. He gave a soft whistle.
"$60?" He cocked one eyebrow. "Is this 10% or are you being a little overly generous?" T asked in a serious tone.
"I brought in $570," Xander admitted. As the door opened and the sunlight flooded the small hallway, Xander suddenly felt embarrassed by the large pile of bills in his pocket.
"Knew you'd be good, but I had no idea," T slapped Xander's butt gently to push him out the door. "Get yourself three shirts and two pairs of tight jeans: you're on the Thursday, Friday and Saturday shifts," T announced. You can keep the one pair you used last night. Mike said that if you came in them, you keep them. You owe him $90 for a new pair." T finished as he pulled the heavy door closed. "See you tonight, cutie." Xander barely heard T say as the door clicked shut and Xander found himself blushing in a wide alley. With a sigh, Xander started the thirty minute walk home wondering what he would tell his mother about his new source of income.