"But... but... but..."

Brian rolled his eyes. "But nothing, Justin. We're here on business--at least for the moment. You're just going to have to wait until Friday to go out and find the quote 'gay Los Angeles'. As if this town could get any gayer."

"But I'm bored!" Justin almost-whined. "I'm not even sure why I'm here; you don't need me to pitch this account. The artwork's done, you're the hotshot ad exec, and..." And come to think of it, Brian did have a point. Los Angeles was an incredibly gay city. An entire metropolis of self-absorbed, fashion-conscious people always in a hurry to get the fuck away from you. Did he really want to see Brian let loose on this place? It wasn't Pittsburgh, so the man hadn't fucked 90% of the male population... "Fine, we'll just stay here in the hotel room. I'm sure there's something on TV."

Brian spent half a second wondering why Justin had let go of the subject so easily before simply thanking all the major gods and a few smaller deities that the boy was already distracted. Then he turned to his computer and busied himself preparing for his presentation. He wanted Kinnetik to be a national firm, which meant expanding to the West Coast. Why in the hell he'd chosen a Los Angeles-based manufacturer of cellophane food wrappers to launch his worldwide takeover of the advertising business, he couldn't rightly say. Perhaps it was because if he could pull this off, he could do anything. He could make anything sexy, even plastic packaging.

Four hours later, he wasn't so sure that bringing Justin had been such a good idea. He'd flown the boy out to keep him company--not that he needed company of any sort. He was used to doing these trips alone, spending his time preparing for the pitch and then fucking the brains out of everyone he could find. Still, Justin was a better fuck than he was likely to find trolling through clubs he'd never been to, in a city renknowned for its beautiful people. He was the biggest fish in Pittsburgh's slimy pond, but out here? Anyone could be Adonis if they had enough credit. So Justin was here as his sure thing, only he was laying on the bed watching something that sounded suspiciously like the 'Beverly Hillbillies.'

"What the fuck are you watching?"

Justin smirked and muted the television. "Oh, this reality show where they take a dozen people from classic small town America and stick them in a bunch of refrigerator boxes underneath a bridge in New York City. Right now the 'mom' figure and the 'slutty youngest daughter' person are fighting over a john who's offering twenty bucks for a blowjob. Seems they're running out of Oxycontin at the cardboard homestead." Having explained just what he was watching, Justin turned the sound back on and reimmersed himself in his chosen entertainment. The show was like a train wreck--he couldn't look away, even though he was horrified that he was even watching.

Brian wondered if he was causing permanent damage to his dental work by grinding his teeth as hard as he was. "You know, I can have you on a flight back to Pittsburgh in under an hour."

Justin snorted. "Uh huh. And I'll get to explain to everyone in Pittsburgh how poor widdle Brian can't stand to be trapped in a room with another male if he's not fucking, sucking, or taking a chemical substance designed to enhance the size of his cock's ego."

Justin had a death wish, Brian just knew it. There was a fine line regarding something and the boy seemed determined to not only step over it, but rub his shoes over the thing until it was obliterated. "What is your problem now?"

"I'm still bored. There's nothing good on TV, I've already figured out that you won't let me order room service, I'm not allowed to go out of the room by myself, if I start jacking off you'll get pissed that I'm distracting you--same goes for showering or digging out one of the toys you packed--so I'm bored," He replied, flipping the television to the Discovery Channel, where a geeky, balding man was eloquently describing the mating habits of nematodes. Nematodes, which looked like worms. Sort of.

Brian sighed and shut down his laptop. "Get dressed."

Justin barely restrained a squeal of glee as he bounced off the bed and reached for their luggage.

•••

"Spike?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you...dissecting that man's eyeball?"

Spike glanced over at Wesley. My, the man looked tasty in the new leathers the vampire had acquired for him. "I'm bored." The eyeball he'd been cutting open squelched in a most amusing manner, vitreous humor squirting out to coat the table and drip along Spike's fingers. "There's nothing to do here."

For the thousandth time, Wesley wondered why the hell he'd saddled himself with a vampire who had the attention span of a fruit fly on crack. Oh yeah, he was a phenomenal fuck. If it wasn't for the fact that a bored Spike tended to drive Wesley into a seriously evil rage, their little life together would be idyllic. "What's wrong with the X-Box? Didn't you get that new game with the 'amazingly realistic gore?'"

Spike shrugged and reached for another eyeball, this one with nerves still attached. They wound around his fingers and dripped fluids down his wrist. "Got mad at the bloody thing."

Wesley nodded. "Which explains the small pile of electronic rubble in the corner. Do you have any idea how much that thing cost?"

"So go kill someone with a fat wallet and get me another," the vampire retorted, popping this eyeball between his fingers. The cornea flew across the room and slapped down on the tattered remains of his former game system. "Tell me again why we're staying in tonight instead of going out?"

There had been a reason for Wesley's insistence on them staying in, but for the life of him, the former Watcher couldn't remember what it was. Maybe it was that Angel would probably be out, skulking in the shadows as he tried to track down his wayward childe and former assistant-cum-fall guy. No, that couldn't have been it--Angel never frequented this part of town, and besides he was far too busy wondering how in the hell Lindsey had gotten his cell phone number. Wesley just adored the former lawyer--he was such a good match for Angel, with his predilection for handcuffs and spankings. If only he'd move back to Los Angeles and away from whatever Iowa cornfield had swallowed him whole. Angel would have his old fuck buddy back, Lindsey wouldn't be risking terminal boredom, and Wesley could fuck Spike in peace.

"Fine, we'll go out, but don't come crying to me if we run into Angel or some other idiotic doo-gooder with a stake and an axe," Wesley muttered as he walked towards his closet.

•••

"I can't believe the only club clothes you packed were the black leather," Justin said as he wriggled and twitched in the elevator. Not that he didn't love the outfit--it was tight, black, and showed off every good feature he had--but it was also hot, restrictive and got him in trouble more often than not. At the moment, his only consolation was that Brian was in much the same boat--head to toe black leather, painted on and leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Quiet, boy," Brian hissed, tugging on the back of Justin's trousers. "Justin should be seen and not heard."

"Fuck you," Justin replied, twisting his hips to free himself from Brian's hold. "At least you didn't bring the collar."

Brian smirked and held out his free hand.

"Oh shit."

•••

"What about him?"

Brian looked over at the tall guy Justin had pointed out. "Too skinny."

"Him?"

"Too short."

"Him?"

"Too fat."

"Him?"

"Too old."

"Him?"

"Too young."

"Him?"

"That's a her."

Justin looked back. "Are you sure?"

Brian shook his head. "I'm never wrong about these things."

"Is there anyone here you'll fuck?" Justin asked. "Because at the moment, you're zero for everyone, and I'm horny." That and he was sweating, which made the leather clothes even less comfortable. The bar they were in was dank and packed with men. Brian had insisted as they left the hotel that if they were going out, it was to sample the locals. Normally Justin found such activities distasteful but tonight he was feeling a bit adventurous. Besides, he was the only man getting on the plane with Brian on Saturday. For tonight, he'd play along... and maybe outplay Brian. He did do that on occasion.

"Them," Brian said, tilting his head towards a pair of men at the other side of the bar. The men he indicated were standing side by side, not touching but obviously together. Both men were pale, the shorter one almost unnaturally so. The taller was a brunette several shades darker than Brian and the other man was white-blonde of the bottle variety. They were as lean as Brian, tight like whipcords and nicely packaged in dark leather. The two men looked a bit dangerous, a bit unkempt, and exactly what Brian and Justin were looking for.

"Okay," Justin said, nodding his agreement. "Get me another drink and I'll fetch your toys." Brian waved him off and signaled for the bartender, knowing that Justin would get the men one way or another. He wouldn't be as fast as Brian, but he'd probably not insult them either.

•••

"This place is absolutely dead," Spike complained. "We've fucked every fuckable body here."

Wesley finished his drink and ordered another. "What about the fresh ones over there?" He asked. "The ones who've been watching us?"

Spike tilted his head to one side. "Not bad, I guess. The tall one looks ok."

"We'll be finding out here in a minute; the short one is coming over here," Wesley replied. Justin arrived right as Wesley finished speaking.

Justin slid along the bar until he was inches from Wesley's side. He said nothing, instead glancing across Wesley to study Spike. Yeah, they'd do nicely.

Spike smirked when he saw the boy's collar. So their admirers liked it that way, did they? "New in town, sweets?"

"Mmm," Justin demurred. "Not overly impressed at the moment. Same things we could get at home, any night. Nothing special."

"Don't be too sure about that," Wesley commented, peering down through slitted eyelids. "There's more to this town than meets the eye."

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Justin said, smirking. He caught both Spike's and Wesley's eyes and made the invitation before turning and walking back to Brian, making sure that both men got a good, hard look at his ass. After all, it was his best feature.

Spike and Wesley shared a look before following the blonde boy back to his companion. As they approached, they noted the apparent age difference between the two--with such humans it was very obvious. Most people ignorant to Spike's nature thought he and Wesley were of an age, and Spike's behavior rarely informed them otherwise.

When they reached the older man, he simply handed a drink to the younger one and pushed away from the bar. Wesley watched the young man's throat constrict as the liquor was swallowed. The crash of glass on the bartop brought everyone's attention back to the present.

With a nod, Brian directed the foursome out the front door of the bar, letting the slightly cooler night air drift over them.

•••

Once they were all outside, Spike took the lead, strolling down the sidewalk with his usual coat-swirling swatter. There was no reason not to take this back to his and Wesley's place; these two were run-of-the-mill humans, but they looked interesting enough to be worth more than a back alley. The taller of the two fell in behind him, with his blonde boy third and Wesley bringing up the rear. A few vampires and demons eyed them curiously but made no move--it was obvious that Spike and his consort had chosen their entertainment for the evening and no one was going to make the mistake of getting in the way.