Lanky S.O.B.

I wasn’t expecting him back so soon. He came in, slammed the door and slummed on the couch. Like a robot unwinding, he spread and draped his long arms over the back and let his head drop back. I stepped away from the fridge, to let him know I was there. I knew he had a jumpy side sometimes. The towel on my head wobbled but I steadied it quickly and kept a firm hand on the towel I was wearing.
“Where are the others?” I kept half an eye on the still open fridge, willing food to magically appear inside, because I was hungry, dammit. “Is the job done yet?”
“Not yet.” I stole a glance over at him. He looked defeated but I couldn’t remember the last time he looked like a champion, either. It was pretty much monotone all the time. He was just that one-note kinda guy.
I gave up on the fridge finally and walked over to the couch. Food did not magically appear when I wanted it to no matter how many curse words I muttered in a single breath. Tucking my towel around myself a little more snuggly, I perched lady-like on couch beside him and picked up my nail file.
“Well, we probably need to wrap this up, right? The authorities are going to be frowning on us pretty soon if we hang around much longer.”
No response. He was just as laconic and apathetic as ever. I was just about sick of his lassie-faire attitude as far as our finances went. Didn’t the man ever need to eat?!
Determined to get a reaction out of the lanky son-of a bitch, I swung my legs up onto his lap nestled my calves in his groin. I knew he hated me, never thought of me in that way, and never would but I was bored out of my mind, for fuck’s sake. Some men will call you a tramp and a whore to your face in an attempt to throw you off, make you think they aren’t hiding torturous feelings of lust for you, but I could smell those guys a mile off. When he did it, I knew that’s what he really thought I was.
Can’t say I’m blame him. Half truths are still truths, essentially.
“Spike, I’m huuungry.” I switched on my best whiny voice I knew he despised. I was walking a fine line here between a disgusted dismissal and asking to be slapped but this was too fun to pass up. The man was a stone I was determined to crack. And I don’t get determined in my life about much. I shifted my legs against each other, imagining the silky skin bumping his junk and wondering how he could just sit there, motionless. He had not moved or said a word since coming in, besides, “Not yet.” I wasn’t used to being ignored by men. Sure, he and Jet ignored me all the time, but if any other man in the universe besides those two walked in to see me in nothing but a towel, I’d have them on their knees in a heartbeat. But this man was granite! It was infuriating.
I was about to get to the point of obvious with my leg rubbing when he moved like snake, grabbed my shoulders, and pinned me under him. Startled by his quickness, I looked up straight into his eyes, one brown the other red, and saw… desperation. Spike. Desperate. It almost scared me to the core.
We fucked. Right there on the yellow sofa in the common room. He didn’t seem to care if Ed, Ein, or Jet walked in right then and saw us buck ass naked and fucking like bunnies on the community couch. There was no tenderness or longing. In fact, I can remember at least three better fucks in the past two years then the one Spike gave me. But it was sadder than anything I’d ever experienced. Not in the pathetic sense, mind you. But I could tell the whole time he was thinking about someone else, punishing someone else as he ripped the towel off my body and out of my hair and sunk his teeth in my neck.
There was the essence of another woman in the room when he bit my bottom lip between his teeth and drew blood. The pain excited me, like it always has, and I thrust towards him instinctively. He never kissed me with his lips but rather used his teeth to graze every last bit of flesh he could reach, like he was starving for something that I was just a taste of.
Not that I was complaining. I was racing towards the finish line and hell if I was going to stop because he needed to think about someone else during. I came and then he came, silently, and he laid there on me for a second while I just breathed and waited for my mind and eyes to clear. I went to wrap my arms around him when he pushed off, grabbed his clothes and headed for the bridge.
I laid there a second and just had to breathe. Then, I picked my towels up, slung them over my shoulder, and headed for my room, still feeling the sex in my hips as I walked. Even though I knew no one was watching.
We never talked about it after that, or the other times he would come to my door, reeking of alcohol on some occasions, sometimes not. It was never with frequency and it was always random, but I never turned him away. He was the glue holding all of us together for that short amount of time on the Bebop, and if the man needed to get laid every now and again, I was happy to oblige.
Sometimes, though, I get to thinking about it. Sometimes I wish he had seen me once, just one of those times, instead of Julia.