Title: More than You Bargained For
Author: gleefulmusings (formerly xanzpet)
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, post-Chosen; Supernatural, Season One.
Pairing: Xander/Dean; Special Guest Star!
Warning(s): Language; sexual situations.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, lyrics, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Snippets of dialogue may be incorporated from the original canonical episode(s) and belong to their respective authors/creators. The original characters and plot are the property of the author(s). The author(s) is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended, nor should any be inferred. No profit is being made.
Summary: Dean Winchester thought he had found an easy mark in Xander Harris, but looks can be deceiving. Especially as marks sometimes travel in pairs...
Dean Winchester sauntered into the smoky pool hall with a cocky grin and a loose swagger, sizing up prospects. Almost immediately, he spotted the perfect rube. The guy stuck out like a Care Bear at a Satanic Church social.
He let his gaze travel up and down the lanky frame before him and was rather pleasantly surprised at what he saw. Strong, broad shoulders, not as nice as his own, of course, but quite suitable; a waist which had not conformed to the emo standards of the present, but one which was trim and fit, solid; long, lean legs which tapered down to a large pair of feet.
He raised an eyebrow. Perhaps this night wouldn't be entirely unfortunate.
The guy in question quirked his own brow in response. Dean frowned. So apparently the Pirate King here had also mastered the Eyebrow. It reminded him a little too much of his brother and inspired a so very wrong feeling within him, one which nevertheless sent a small shiver up his spine.
"Hi! Wanna play?" the man asked him.
Dean suppressed the snicker and leer just aching to burst forth, instead leaning forward and, planting one hand on the table, peeked up at the mark through his lashes, employing his best boyish grin.
"What did you have in mind?" he purred.
The man's eye widened in either terror or horror. "Uh, pool?" he squeaked.
This was too much fun. Dean slapped down a fifty down on the table.
The other man backed up slightly before narrowing his eye. "You're one of those hustlers, aren't you? My mother warned me about guys like you."
"Your mother warned you about guys?"
The man began ticking off with his fingers. "Hustlers, priests, and guys in short shorts. Oh, and strangers with candy. Hey! Did you ever watch that show?"
"Dean," the hunter replied, extending his hand. He grasped Xander's palm and held it a little longer than necessary, exerting just the right amount of pressure. The mark frowned in confusion before another lopsided grin overtook him.
"I'm not sure I have enough money," he whispered, now blushing.
"Got anything to trade?" he drawled.
"Relax, kid," Dean chortled. "Just put up whatever you got."
Xander's fingers shook as he reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He carefully counted out its contents, amounting to thirty-eight dollars, most of it in ones.
Dean winced, feeling more than a little guilty. This was probably all the money kid had, and he felt like a heel trying to wrest it from him. "Maybe this isn't a good idea."
"What? Are you saying I can't hack it?"
Oh man, now the dude was pissed off. "Look, kid..."
"Who are you calling a kid? I'm probably older than you!"
Dean held up his hands in surrender. The last thing he needed was to draw attention to himself. "Okay, okay. Sorry, Xander. Didn't mean to offend you."
At once, the man's features relaxed and he offered another grin, shrugging. "Thanks. Play now?"
Dean shrugged once. "Sure. You can break."
Xander's brow furrowed.
"Uh, that means you use the cue..."
"Oh, you mean this stick thing?"
"Right. You use that stick thing, point it at the white ball, and send it flying toward the triangle of balls."
Xander snickered. "Balls," he wheezed.
Holy shit. Was this kid for real?
"I'll be solids," Dean sighed. "That means the balls without the stripes."
"I figured that one out for myself," Xander chirped.
Dean nodded wearily, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. In fact, he'd rather just give the kid the fifty and send him on his way. Xander walked over behind the table and expertly positioned the cue in his nimble fingers. A slow smirk settled across Dean's face as he realized he'd been set up. And when Xander broke, Dean knew he had already lost.
"Words of advice, slick," Xander drawled. "Don't try to Tom Cruise my Paul Newman." He turned to line up another shot, only to feel Dean come up from behind and lean heavily against him.
"It wasn't your Newman I was cruising," he whispered.
Xander completely blew the shot.
"Oh," Dean grinned, fluttering his lashes. "Is it my turn?"
"Good game," Xander offered, again extending his hand.
It had ended in a draw and both men had kept their money. They now stood in the parking lot, saying goodnight.
"You've got that wide-eyed hick thing down," Dean marveled.
Xander chuckled. "It helps when you only have one eye."
The other man didn't know whether to laugh as well or ask one of the myriad questions rolling around in his mind. He was saved from making a decision when Xander roughly pushed him against the brick wall.
"You could have bought me a beer first," Dean teased. He spun around when he heard the scuffle behind him, just in time to see the other man dusting a... "Vampire?"
Xander offered a mild shrug. "Comes with the territory."
Dean cocked his head. "And what territory is that?"
"You really don't want to know. This is action you wouldn't want in on."
"You'd be surprised what I want," Dean countered, taking two steps forward and grinding his crotch against that of the other man, "and you have no idea the action I can handle."
Xander studied his eyes, quirking his lips in a lazy smile. "Is that right?" He reached down behind Dean's neck and pulled him toward his mouth.
"Don't write checks your ass can't cash," Dean groaned.
"But my ass isn't the one on the line here."
Dean moaned, grinding his cock against Xander's in reply. Right then, he wanted nothing more than for the Pirate King to bend him over the hood of the Impala and plunder his booty.
He blinked. Hey, new kink. Awesome.
"Shit," Xander softly cursed, dropping his head onto Dean's shoulder.
The other man grimaced, pulled away, and looked in the direction of the voice. "Angry girlfriend?" he scowled.
Xander fidgeted. "Not exactly."
The hunter squinted as he peered into the dark alley, shocked beyond belief when something that resembled the original Smurfette emerged, looking more pissed than Sam after discovering Dean had eaten all the Twinkies. "What is that?" he shrieked.
Smurfette cocked her head and seemed to be examining him. "Human," it offered, disdain apparent on its face. "Weak offal. Alexander, we have discussed this."
Dean balked. Human?
"But Illie!" Xander whined.
"Do not address me by that ridiculous nickname! You have been honored by being chosen as my new pet, and I demand you afford me the proper respect due a being of my magnificence or I will rip out your spinal cord and beat you to death with it!"
Xander rolled his eye. "Yes, Illyria."
"That's a demon!" Dean screeched.
Illyria's eyes grew impossibly wide.
"You really shouldn't have said that," Xander fretted, looking around wildly, hoping either Faith or Buffy would suddenly materialize and save him. Hell, he'd even settle for Angel at this point.
"Demon! You impudent, insignificant rodent! I am a god!"
"What!" Dean roared.
"God, but in human form," Xander whispered into his ear. "So her powers are pretty limited, but are still more than enough to kick everyone's ass around the world at least twice."
"Dude!" Dean turned to face him. "Who are you?"
"I'm Xander. This is Illyria."
"What the fuck?"
"Alexander," Illyria interrupted, "from my vantage point, I discerned that you and this offal were in the process of a potential mating. I am most intrigued by same gender relations. I believe that further demonstration is required, as the two half-breeds refuse to allow me to witness their intercourse. According to my research, homosexual encounters must have what is termed a 'top' and a 'bottom'. Which are you? Further, please clarify what these designations mean."
Xander startled. "You just said please!"
Dean's head volleyed back and forth between the two. No fuck was worth this, no matter how good it promised to be! Suddenly, he felt Xander's hard grip on his shoulder, trying to massage away some of the tension.
"You're not thinking of running off, are you?"