bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote,
bmblbee
bmblbee

Hang Ten

Title : Hang Ten
43/50
Author: BmblBee
Paring: Spike/Xander (of course)
Rating: NC17. Not a lot of sex, but what there is, is very graphic. M/M
Warning: See above
Disclaimer: The Bee has no claim on any of the characters she plays with.
Summary: A story of teens, sun and surf in the 1960's. HAU.


Link to previous chapters HERE






Special thanks, as always to my dearest friend Petxnd for the wonderful banner.

The Bee greatly appreciates readers who take the time to comment.
Spelling and punctuation checked by Silk_Labyrinth. Remaining boo boos are by the
Bee's choice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


This time the wait was nearly relaxed. Xander briskly ruffled the towel through his long, dark hair as
he and Riley compared notes on the ride they had just shared. No one in the group would jinx it
by verbalizing what they all thought. That the ride was perfect. That it would ensure them a spot in
the final five. That they were still in the running.

Xander laughed as he briskly swiped the towel down his legs and finally looped it around his neck
to wait. The others bubbled with praise and he was still catching his breath when they heard
the loudspeaker squeal.

"ATTENTION PLEASE. THE SCORES HAVE BEEN TABULATED AND THE FIVE
TEAMS ADVANCING TO THE SEMI-FINALS HAVE BEEN DETERMINED. BEFORE
WE REVEAL THE NAMES AND NUMBERS OF THE FINALISTS, WE WOULD LIKE
TO COMMEND ALL OUR PARTICIPANTS AND IF YOUR NUMBER IS NOT CALLED,
WE INVITE YOU TO COME TO THE JUDGES' STAND FOR A COMPLIMENTARY T-SHIRT."

Spike snorted in disgust. "I'll tell you what they can do with their fucking t-shirts. They can wrap
them around their peckers like cotton raincoats and...."

Cordelia shot Pepsi out her nose in laughter before smacking Spike on the shoulder as the
booming announcement continued.

"WHILE ALL OF YOU EXHIBITED EXEMPLARY SURFING SKILLS, ONLY FIVE TEAMS
CAN MOVE ON. THE FIVE SEMI-FINALISTS ARE: TEAM #3. TIP WARNER AND BILL
HO. TEAM #16. CAM CARTER AND JAY WALKER. TEAM #21. BOBBY SCOTT AND
TERRY GUILDER. TEAM #23. XANDER HARRIS AND RILEY FINN. AND FINALLY,
TEAM #6. ROCKEY COONS AND FRITZ GAREN. CONGRATULATIONS GENTLEMEN
AND PREPARE FOR YOUR SOLO RIDES."

Xander was speechless. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back to bathe his face in the rays of
the sun as he basked in the warmth and glow of the moment. Even though expected, hearing their
names like that was almost like they had been called by the voice of God himself. It didn't matter if
they went no further, this day was one he would remember forever.

When he opened his eyes and turned his head, he saw the matching expression on Riley's face and a
look of awe and appreciation on his friends'. They all understood. Then the stark reality of
their situation hit home and the six dropped to the blanket. There was a one-hour break while
Brown Bodies sold shirts, tanning oil and miscellaneous crap. It was time that Xander and Riley
would get themselves prepped both mentally and physically.

Willow shook Xander's arm. She was a nervous wreck. She couldn't have been more geeked up if
she were riding the waves herself.

"FOOD! Are you guys hungry? Should I go get hot dogs or burgers or nacho chips or something?
Oh, how about a Coke? I know you must be thirsty. You name it. Whatever you want, I'll go get."

Xander paid no attention to her as he and Riley continued with their heads together. Instead, Spike
took his boyfriend's well-being into his own hands and acted as Xander's agent. He shook his
head firmly.

"No. No food. Do you want him to get a cramp out there and go under? And no soda.
Nothing carbonated. It will make bubbles in his stomach and bowels and throw off his balance when
he needs to fart. No, no I will go with you to the concession stand and I will supervise what he can have."

No one questioned Spike's authority as the three girls jumped up and obediently followed the short
blond boy who marched across the sand with a Lawrence of Arabian air. They snaked in and around
the blankets and beach towels that covered nearly every open spot of sand, and they swerved as
several wild and apparently unsupervised children ran by.

"William! William! Over here!!"

Spike's step faltered while his eyes sought the source of his paging. With a cringe of embarrassment,
he spotted his father's pasty pale chest as the older man stood on his tiptoes and waved wildly to
catch Spike's attention.

Damn. He had been spotted. Eye contact had been established. Escape was impossible.

With reluctance and trepidation, he admitted defeat and changed directions with the girls
following faithfully behind. As they moved closer, Rupert bounced happily on the balls of his feet,
a move which caused his flabby man-boobs to wiggle grotesquely. Spike was certain it was done
to humiliate him.

"William, what luck. We have only just arrived."

Spike looked around his father to where Jenny laid, propped up on her elbows in a very skimpy
and brightly colored bikini. She appeared oblivious to Rupert's pasty white skin and lack of
manly physique. She smiled brightly and waved, "Hi Will." Spike marginally lifted his hand as
his father continued.

"I would never have imagined so many people would be here. This is astounding. Jenny said
we would never find you in such a huge mob but, well, here you are. And who are your little
friends? Introductions, William."

Spike had recently read that the coastline of Southern California is subject to horrendous and
potentially disastrous events. Something called the San Andreas Fault line. It was said that at some
time in the near future, it would cause the entire coastline of California to snap off and drop into
the ocean, never to be seen again. Spike wondered where the fucking thing was when you needed
it most.

"Oh, sure, sorry, this is Willow Rosenberg, Cordelia Chase, and Buffy Summers. Guys, this is my
father and his, um, friend Jenny Calendar."

Buffy popped her head around and grinned.

"Hey, hi! So you're Spike's dad. Did Spike tell you that my mom wanted you to call her? She said
that whenever you are free, she would love to have you over for dinner."

That was when Spike first realized rescue and redemption could come in the most unexpected
forms. Just when you think there is no hope, hope arrives. And sometimes it arrives on the wings of
a polka dot bikini and a blond pony tail, that continually flipped happily like a puppy on dog biscuits.

"She said to let her know whenever you are free and she will cook you up a scrumptious roast.
Do you have her number?"

Instantly, Jenny sat bolt upright as poor Rupert continued to look clueless. He was still sussing
out the particulars of the unexpected statement when he heard Jenny behind him.

"Oh, don't worry one little bit, Buffy. I have your mother's number."

The distinct tinge of venom in Jenny's voice struck them all. Spike lit up as he caught the first scent of
an escape tunnel and Buffy grinned happily, assured that Miss Calender would be giving Rupert
the number any minute now. Rupert froze. He eased the glasses off his nose and began polishing
the lenses with the corner of the towel that hung around his neck. When they were spotless, he
replaced them and slowly turned around. What he saw on her face sent chills down his spine
and immediately, like a mother hen, Spike gathered his flock and herded them away as the
high-pitched, "Why the hell does Joyce Summers want you to call her? Have you been talking to
her? What the fuck have you been doing, Rupert? Are you playing me like Sally Simpleton?"
licked at his heels.

Who the hell needs an earthquake when you have Buffy Summers on your side?

Xander and Riley had run out of words. They had gone over and over each and every move of
their previous rides and all possible twists and turns of the rides yet to come. They were the readiest
of ready and teetered on the brink of being over-ready. A condition both of recognized as potentially dangerous.

"I gotta pee. You want to come?"

Riley snorted at his friend's question.

"Nah, when that fucking wave curled up over us, I ain't ashamed to admit, I pissed myself right there
and then, but, hey, I finished the ride."

Xander barked out a laugh and slapped Riley on the back as he walked away. The relatively short
trip to the outhouses took longer than imagined. As quarterback of the football team and center of
the basketball team, Xander was no stranger to a certain amount of praise and admiration, but this
was accolades to the max.

Every few steps he took toward the bathrooms, he was stopped, praised and touched. He was patted
on the back, his hand was shaken and he was kissed on the cheek. Everyone, it seemed, was pulling
for the hometown team. Just as he was beginning to worry that he was about to follow Riley's
example and pee-dampen his trunks, he made it to the stall.

With a sigh of relief he stepped inside and was immediately snatched into a bear hug.

"Well, well, well. What the fuck have we got here? The very fucking pip-squeak that thinks he can
beat the pants off me. How about we have a talk? What do you say, Pip-Squeak?"

Xander flinched. The smell of alcohol on the man's breath was overwhelming and nauseating.

"Mr. Coons?"
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  • 33 comments

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