bakerstreet | Skeet skeet

If he had a heartbeat, it would be speeding just a tad from that, because to Spike, that sounded like interest. In fact, it sounded very close to permission, and he had to reach a hand down to Matt's side, fingers finding the waist of his pants and tugging him closer. "That, Pet, is up to you. Clearly a full feeding is off the menu, as a drained partner isn't any fun -- until they've woken up again. But maybe... just a taste?"

Spike won't have to wonder about Matt's interest level any longer, not as close as they are now. This may actually be the stupidest thing he's ever done, and if you know Matt Murdock, that's saying a lot. But what the hell, he's never run from anything before. And at least this guy has said he doesn't want him dead.

"Just so we're clear, the limit is before the point where I'd normally be involving an ambulance." If Foggy knew about this, he'd wash his hands of Matt for good. "Wait, shit, hold on. White shirt."

Silk dress shirts are expensive, and he'd prefer to keep the bloodstains where they can be hidden by his jacket. Reluctantly, he steps back to quickly undo the buttons, sliding off his shirt without even thinking about the expansive collection of scars.

He might not be thinking of them, but as soon as Spike's hand touches his side, dark room or not, he can feel the raised ridges that are scattered here and there over the body in front of his. It makes him take a minute, both hands moving to slide up along Matt's chest, feeling the paths of pain that had left their marks on him. "My, my, someone's been a busy little beaver. If this is anything to go by, a little nip from me won't likely even be noticed. But it'll go better for me if I know you like it. Less pain that way."

Again, for him. If he knew he was hurting the other man, that chip would do its thing and ruin what could be a perfectly good night.

Matt shudders at the hands smoothing across his skin. "I've got some unusual hobbies." Thankfully there aren't any recent injuries, not beyond a few bruises, which are pretty much ever-present anyway.

He misses Spike's meaning about pain, unaware of the chip in his head, and just dismisses it with a shrug. "Pain doesn't bother me."

A bite, even from a vampire, couldn't possibly hurt as much as the beating he took from Fisk. And he got back up from that, didn't he?

"But if what you need is confirmation that I'm good with this? Then yeah. I'm good with this."

"Right. Well, now I'm starting to feel overdressed. Feel like helping me with that?" His hands skim up over a toned chest, sliding fingers with chipped black polish on them around to the back to feel just as many, if not more scars back there. "Bloody hell, mate. Went a few rounds with a meat grinder, did you?"

Not that any of that bothered him. If anything, the idea of having a partner, a human partner who was into pain, who'd like a nip here and there -- maybe along the neck, or the inner thigh... Well. That was just an incredible turn on. Evidenced by the erection pressing against the front of his black jeans.

"Something like that."

Oh, Matt would be happy to help with the overdressed situation. Sliding his hands up Spike's chest, he works them under the shoulders of his coat and pushes it down his arms, then drops them to his waist to pull at the hem of his shirt.

"I like the leather, by the way. Just to make up for griping about the cigarettes."

Spike appears to be pretty toned himself, if the abs under Matt's fingertips are any indication. That's something he definitely intends to explore more fully.

Some vampires didn't mind preening and showing off just how good they'd look for the rest of eternity. Spike would be one of those. He lifted his arms up to help Matt get rid of his shirt, reaching for the warm body in front of his to pull up against himself. Another reason to love humans; that heat that seeped into him and made him want to roll all over him, wrap himself around him just to keep that warmth. "You're a bit of a laugh, Lawyer. All prim and proper with your tie and suit, but you've got a jigsaw of marks here that talk about interest in other things. You don't like smoking and have a cross on your wall, but you invite a vampire into your home and seem to enjoy leather."

"Like I said, unusual hobbies." Hey, it's technically the truth. It's not like he gets paid to be Daredevil. Not that lately he's been getting paid a whole lot to be a lawyer either.

Matt has to admit, he kind of likes being something of an enigma, especially to a guy who can lay claim to a boatload of mystery himself.

The cool skin against his make Matt shiver, but it isn't a wholly unpleasant sensation. "There's nothing shocking about a blind guy enjoying something that smells and feels nice." The way he grins, eyebrows up, lends an undertone of innuendo to his statement. Spike smells different from what he's used to but not in a bad way, his body is muscular and his skin is smooth. Even if the unusually low temperature makes Matt instinctively shove him into a hot shower and then a warm bed.

"Hedonist," he all but purred, hands gripping Matt's trousers and using that hold to pull the man closer, pressing their hips together in a way that let Matt know just how okay he was with everything that was going on. For a creature that didn't have his own heartbeat, it was a good thing that didn't seem to affect the flow of blood to other very important appendages. Matt was welcome to try to figure out that mystery. "So, do those hobbies include getting your arse kicked on a daily basis? Because I smell blood all over this apartment, Pet. Seems someone's into some very interesting foreplay."

Matt can't help roll his hips a little in response to that, pleased if slightly puzzled about how a vampire manages an erection. But then, he's slightly puzzled about how a vampire manages to exist at all, so he's willing to let his questions wait for a more convenient time. He may not be that 'prim and proper' fellow people tend to assume he is, but he's not kinky enough to find in-depth medical analysis terribly sexy.

He laughs at being called a hedonist, because if Spike thinks that now, wait until he gets a load of the silk sheets on the bed.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." He shakes his head, chest rising and falling as more of his own blood flow is redirected south, then presses his lips softly against the corner of Spike's jaw. "Maybe I'm just clumsy."

"Somehow, I doubt that." He presses closer still, a little grind at the end of that shift of his hips, scenting the change in Matt's pheromones, smiling as he picks up on that arousal he'd been aiming for. He feels the slight tease of a kiss, turning his head to nip at Matt's lip. Nothing that would break skin, human-blunt teeth doing the biting, but enough to give him a heady rise of his own arousal, enjoying the promise of what was to come. "So, do I get a tour of this clumsy place, or you just want to fool around here, mm?"

Matt's tongue darts out unconsciously to sooth the spot on his lip, but he closes the distance again immediately, nothing teasing about the kiss this time.

"Is that a hint?" Chuckling, he teasingly takes Spike perhaps a little more literally than he'd intended, tilting his head first in one direction then the other. "Kitchen, bathroom, you're standing in the living room." Then he slowly starts to walk backward toward the sliding door that separates the bedroom, pulling Spike along with him. "Hope an unmade bed doesn't offend you, I overslept this morning."

Because he'd been out most of the night skulking around on rooftops, but shh.

"Oh, no. Unmade bed? Much too sloppy for me. Not like I sleep in a crypt or anything like that." The sarcasm was something Matt might be able to feel, even as Spike moved to follow along after Matt, flicking his thumb over the button of his jeans to undo them as he all but stalked after his 'prey' for the night. "Hope your neighbors don't mind a bit of noise."

"Still can't believe there's no better option than a crypt. Basement apartment? Blackout curtains? Remodeled storage unit?"

It has to be some kind of vampire-chic conceit. Or, probably more likely, Spike's just pulling his leg.

He moves backward slowly enough that that he can still hang on to the other man by the hips, although once they're through the doorway, he lets go so he can finish undressing, tossing his clothes with perfect aim into a laundry basket. "It's New York. Anyone who minds a little noise isn't going to last here for long."

"All workable, but they require rent. You know of many places a vampire can get a job?" Mausoleums were free, Matt. The current occupants didn't care, and there was no invitation rule. Win-win.

Matt might be blind, but Spike's not, and he enjoys the show as Matt continues to undress, lifting first one foot, then another to untie the laces of his boots so he can toe them off. "Fair enough." Then a pause. "They won't call the cops, will they? Be a shame to be mid-fun and have to explain, no, Mr. Officer, we're just playing a bit of slap and tickle." Especially if there might be a bit of blood at that point.

"I don't know, I might be able to think of a couple." Hell, if they worked for the next to nothing Karen did, Matt would hire one in a minute. So long as they were willing to abide by a few rules.

For a few seconds, a haunted expression darkens Matt's, his brow furrowing as he shakes his head. "No. They won't call the cops." Far too few people do, and even then the police don't always have the manpower (or the interest) to respond. A little banging and shouting? Doesn't rank very high when compared to fires and shootings.

"Anyway, cops show up at the door, there's always the fire escape, right?"

"I'm suddenly picturing having to jump out the window with my clothes in my arms, like I've just cuckolded someone. If that's the case, Lawyer, you'd better be worth it. Not that whoever sees won't get a lovely view." Smirking, he started to push his jeans down, showing that no, vampires (or Spike) didn't wear underwear.

Oops.

Matt can hear the slide of denim over skin, and he raises his eyebrows with a chuckle and a wince. "Commando, really?" God, he doesn't even want to imagine how horrible that would feel. Anybody who can tough that out has his respect.

Despite his remark, he closes the distance between them once the jeans are on the floor, pulling Spike toward him by the hips and snaking one hand down to wrap around his cock. He has to admit, aside from being understandably interested in finding out what the man feels like, Matt's also curious about this cool vampire skin of his, and whether it's like that everywhere.

"Saves time." That wasn't the only reason, of course, but he didn't know this Lawyer boy well enough to go into the intricacies of why he strolled around with denim rubbing up against his junk.

Matt stepped in and crossed that first line, a warm, calloused hand wrapping around Spike's erection, making the vampire lift up and rock into that grip a little. Spike was cool all over, but once things got going, he'd retain a little of that body heat of Matt's in addition to exertion. Hopefully. "Didn't expect a lawyer to have rough hands. That anything to do with your blind but able to be grabby act?" Spike's hands were sliding up over Matt's chest, nails digging in when he reached his shoulders, letting them make light marks down along his back.

No matter how much time it saves, Matt just can't wrap his head around anyone being willing to put up being that uncomfortable all day. But what does he know, maybe vampires can turn off their responses to tactile stimuli. It makes exactly as much sense in his mind as the fact that he has a fully erect dick in his hand and not a pulse in the room other than his own.

"It might." Spike's hands are just the opposite, smooth but lean as glide over the ridges of scar tissue. Matt can't help but arch encouragingly into the scrape of nails, teasing little lines of fire across his skin. "You've got a lot of preconceived ideas about lawyers."

Because he figures the vampire isn't expecting it, Matt bends his head to brush his stubbled jaw along Spike's, scraping his teeth over the angular jut of bone.

He had been a poet in another lifetime, after all. Time didn't have the same effect on vampires as it did on humans. Oh, he scarred; had a few that he still carried from battles past, but callouses were built up over time, and he healed too quickly to gain that roughly textured ex-blister.

Spike grinned at the remark, shrugging a little as he traced his fingers over those little raised ridges here and there. "Hardly preconceived if it's true of the ones I've met, is it?"

He feels that rasp, stubble scratching at smooth skin, Spike's eyes closing as he just enjoys that sensation while he can. "Enjoying yourself?" Spike's hands slid down the back of Matt's body, fingers dipping in past the waistband of those silk boxers to grip at his ass, pulling him in as he did.

"You need to hang with a better crowd of lawyers." Not that plenty of those stereotypes don't fit the people at firms like Landman and Zack. But that's the reason he and Foggy couldn't see themselves staying.

Matt really isn't interested in thinking about his fellow attorneys at the moment, though, not with hands on his ass and that audible smirk in his ear. As their bodies move closer together, he slides his hand out from between them and runs both of them up Spike's back, enjoying the play of muscles under the cool skin.

"Mm-hm." He grins against the vampire's jaw, then tilts his head to properly find his mouth. Spike tastes about as expected in some regards, of whiskey and beer and cigarettes. But not a lot else. If vampires eat actual human food, Matt can't tell what it is. And that's a novelty he could get used to.

Spike does like to eat regular food; blood's all well and good, but life would be terrible without a good scone. He just hadn't had the opportunity in the last day or so. Blood, yes. Food... did whiskey count?

His tongue wound around Matt's, drawing it into his mouth to tangle with as he pressed his hips more firmly to Matt's. He could feel the heat and warmth and that solidness of the living erection against his pelvis, letting out a soft, pleased groan that was muffled in Matt's mouth. He drew back enough to let the other man breathe (he'd been with enough humans to know he needed to remember that was a necessity), then nudged his head at the sliding door to the bedroom. "Let's relocate. I feel like seeing what you look like all sprawled out with that little patchwork quilt design you've got going on."

Of all the questionable decisions he's made in his life, taking a vampire to his bed probably rates higher than Matt would like to admit. But despite the lack of the usual cues, he feels like he can trust the things Spike has told him. If all the guy wanted was a meal, he could have had that back in the alley.

It also wouldn't be the first time he slept with someone who could kill him. Although it would be the first time having that knowledge in advance.

Corners of his eyes crinkling, he grins steps away, slowly so he can draw his hand down Spike's chest as he moves. The bedroom is only a few steps away, and the bed only a few beyond that. Matt pushes the rumpled bedclothes aside and stretches out on the white sheets. "Do I pass inspection?"

Spike follows along after, watching the way the scars move with each step, seeing the muscles underneath skin that spoke of an active physical lifestyle. He watched that body spread out on the bed, moving to crawl in after him, hands sliding up along muscular legs as he moves further up. "Bet there's quite a story to go with this, eh?"

His hand moved from a scar to the length of him, fingers wrapping around Matt's cock as he gave it a slow, firm squeeze.

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