__A Deal's A Deal__
By Kath



The theatre was just one of many located on the seedier side of West Hollywood. A nondescript lump of a woman sat inside its tiny ticket booth, hidden behind a dingy window of safety glass and puffs of cigarette smoke, while the broken street lamp on the corner did little to illuminate the many advertisements haphazardly pasted to the building's plain white walls. Colored flyers promising 'Naked Girls! All the time!', phone numbers to ring for a 'Good Time', and directions to 'Maury's Pawn and Porn Shop' down the street fluttered lightly in the warm night's breeze.

Wesley stood silently on the sidewalk and pulled his jacket closed tighter around his neck, not because he was cold, but rather because he didn't want to be there and was feeling an inexplicable need to shield himself from whatever he might encounter inside. The jacket collar rubbed against the still-healing scar along Wesley's neck, making it itch, but he managed to resist the urge to scratch it. The last thing he needed now, on top of everything else, was an infection.

Squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw, Wes mustered up as much dignity as possible and stepped up to the ticket booth. "One for 'Megalodong'," he muttered gruffly, his vocal chords still not completely recovered from their recent injury. He slid a $10 bill through a slot in the window and retrieved his ticket in return, refusing to make eye contact with either the cashier or the man just inside the doorway who ripped the ticket in two and handed him back the stub. Had he felt like considering it, Wesley might have concluded that the employees there were used to such rude behavior, given most patrons' desire for anonymity and what they were there for. As it was, he really couldn't care less. What he was most concerned about was finding the person who had summoned him there in the first place.

Entering the seating area of the theater, Wesley squinted and blinked, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dark. On screen, two young men wearing wet suits - one blond, the other brunet, both tall and good looking - were standing together on the deck of a boat out at sea, doing something with what appeared to be a harpoon gun. Before he could discern the plot - if there even was one - Wes heard a cough coming from his right and turned his attention to the back row of seats. In the flickering light from the screen he could just make out the uniquely angular features of the man he had only met in person once before. Sidestepping down the row, Wesley took a seat next to him.

"Mr. Wyndam-Pryce," the man greeted him politely in a syrupy English accent.

"Mr. Rayne", Wes answered in the same calm tone. "What do you want?"

The man smiled broadly at him, eyes twinkling mischievously even in the dark. "Oh, I think you know, Wesley. I can call you Wesley, can't I? And you must of course call me Ethan."

Wesley pressed his lips together in a tight line of disapproval. "*What* do you want?"

Ethan leaned back and crossed one leg casually over the other, his hands resting together on one knee. The smile was still in place, but the eyes flashed dangerously with magic and power. "Come now, Wesley. We both know why you're here. We had a deal."

Ethan momentarily turned his attention back to the movie screen again, drawing Wesley's there as well. The two generically muscular men were now below deck, wetsuits stripped off to the waist. The blond, whose impossibly long cock was clearly outlined by the tight confines of rubber, was currently sticking his hand down the front of his companion's suit, something which the second man appeared to be enjoying, if his loud moans were anything to go by.

"How did things go with the Loa, by the way?" Ethan continued smoothly. "Did you find the answers you were looking for?"

Wesley shot a nasty scowl Rayne's way. "It wasn't...what I expected. But then, I suspect you knew all along it wouldn't be."

Ethan shrugged almost apologetically, as if to say 'If it were that easy...' "Still, I did live up to my end of the bargain. Surely you haven't forgotten what you promised me in return."

"Beyond the enormous sum of money I already paid you, you mean?" Wes countered. No, he hadn't forgotten. He'd have done anything back then, agreed to anything. Hell, he'd even offered up his own life in exchange for both Angel's and Connor's. Rayne's request had been nothing in comparison. Of course, now, none of it mattered anymore. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Wonderful!" Ethan beamed at him and produced a silver flask from an unseen pocket. "I've got just the thing to help loosen us up and get us in the mood." Unscrewing the cap, he took a long drink, then offered the flask to Wesley.

Wes's eyes moved distrustfully from Ethan's face to the flask then back again, then, decision made, he snatched the container from Rayne's hand and tipped a good portion of its contents down his throat. The burn of the liquid going down was enough to make Wesley's eyes water and it worried him slightly that he couldn't completely identify the taste. When the burn shot through his blood stream into his limbs, and all his nerve endings began to misfire painfully and he started having difficulty breathing, a moment of panic set in. "What the bloody hell is in this stuff?" he managed to gasp out.

"It's a bit late to be worrying about that now," Ethan pointed out smugly. Wesley grabbed him by the throat, his fist drawn back for a punch. Ethan's hands flew to protect his face. "Okay, okay! It's just a mild aphrodisiac I mixed up. A simple potion, nothing dangerous. The side effects are only temporary."

Wesley continued to pin Ethan to his seat until the pain had turned into a slight tingle and his breathing had eased, then he reluctantly released him. The burning sensation was gone except for a hot, throbbing need now coming from his groin. Without saying another word, Ethan reached over and began to stroke Wes's growing erection through his jeans. Wesley's hips jerked and he threw his head back, his body now apparently overly sensitized to the slightest touch. The penny finally dropped. He hadn't realized Rayne planned on exacting his payment "Here?" he managed to gasp, even as the small part of his brain still capable of coherent thought realized it was a stupid question.

Ethan chuckled and unzipped Wesley's jeans, pulling his hardening cock out into the cool air. "Why *not* here?" Wesley jerked again, momentarily overcome by the raw sensual connection created by the touch, something he hadn't felt from anyone in God, so long. Ethan's hand alternated between soft caresses and powerful jerks, and was quickly driving Wes crazy. "A little danger to make things interesting, not to mention the added visual stimulus." Ethan's head tilted towards the movie screen where both men were now naked and the blond was writhing happily on his back in a small bunk, a dark head bobbing up and down in his lap. Wesley groaned, and judging by the sounds of pleasure drifting back from other areas of the theater, he wasn't the only one enjoying the view. Eyes focused forward, he began to imagine it was Ethan's warm, wet mouth on his cock instead of his hand and his hips began to buck in time with the bobbing head onscreen. His moans became longer and louder and it wasn't long before Wesley's eyes rolled back into his head and he was hit with the strongest climax he'd had in years. He came across Ethan's hand and onto the floor and seat back in front of him, and it was a good minute before he was able to calm his heart rate and breathing enough to open his eyes without feeling dizzy.

When Wesley finally turned to look at Ethan, the other man was watching him patiently, yet expectantly, a nasty little knowing smile on his face. Looking down, Wes could see Ethan's erection straining painfully against the seam of his trousers and was inexplicably turned on again by the sight. As if drawn by an unseen power, he immediately dropped to his knees onto the sticky floor and fumbled to release Ethan's cock from its tight confines, filled with a hunger, a *need* for it. Something felt wrong about that need, but it was nothing he cared to examine, not when he could taste, suck, *feel*... He took the long length into his mouth as far as he could. Now it was *his* dark head bobbing up and down, as he licked and sucked and nipped at Ethan to his heart's content.

Ethan was largely silent, except for a low hum of pleasure that seemed to vibrate through his entire body and into Wesley's mouth. His fingers came down to tangle in Wes's hair, holding him in place, and finally, with a "God yes, Wesley!" he released himself down his throat in hot spurts. Once he'd recovered, Ethan smiled and ran a gentle hand across Wesley's cheek, the caress warming Wes with feelings of contentment. Wes gazed up at him happily, his smile faltering when Ethan then neatly put himself away, zipped his trousers and stood to leave. He made it to the end of the row before turning back to face Wes, who was still watching him, still on his knees. "Well, are you coming?"

Wesley's groin already throbbed with desire again, and he knew. He knew, at that very moment, he would follow Ethan Rayne anywhere.

* * *