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The Darkling Plain

Episode 1

Chapter 5

He went back the next day. As he suspected, Wesley had not left for England. He heard him moving about in his apartment, but when he knocked curtly, there was no response.

With a twitch of one eyebrow, he kicked the door open and went in.

Eyes wide, Wesley backed against the wall and watched his approach. His face was a mass of bruising, one cut vivid above his eye, his lip split and swollen. He swallowed but faced Angel without blinking.

Angel came to a halt in front of him. He surveyed his handiwork, outwardly dispassionate. 'Take your clothes off.'

Wesley snagged in a breath.

Angel raised an eyebrow. 'Do I have to ask twice?'

'What is this?'

'This? This is what you wanted, Wesley. What you did it for. What you screwed it all up for.'

'So, now I'll be responsible for screwing you up too? No, Angel. I don't want that.'

'How does this screw me up? I get off in you - might as well be some random cunt - and then I go home and make love to Spike. Seems good to me.'

'And in between those two things you cry?'

Angel took a sudden step back then twisted away and went to pour a drink.

Wesley pushed off the wall and, very slowly - with almost no more than a shuffle - made his way over to where Angel stood.

'You can take me again, Angel, if that's what you want. You can kill me. To be honest, I don't really care one way or the other. But I want you to be very sure of your motives here. Let's not confuse those again, shall we? I'll tell you mine. I've kept it inside long enough. I love you. I've wanted you for so long, I forget how little of your long life we've actually known each other. And sometimes, I think that's why you'll never be able to feel this kind of love. How can you? You're eternal; you don't have the desperate urgency we all do to find that elusive, perfect love in our short lives. I love you. I want you. But, more importantly, I desperately wanted you to love me. So much so that I sacrificed everything I had - I sacrificed someone I loved almost as much as you. But… not quite. That's the important thing. Not quite. You came first. So, take me. What do I care? Kill me; again, I don't care. Just be very sure why you're doing it this time.'

Angel looked down to the glinting liquid in his glass. 'Wanted?'

Wesley frowned, and Angel added quickly, 'In the past tense? You wanted me to love you?'

Wesley made a small, painful chuckle. 'I'm nothing if not a realist. I know there will be nothing for me from you now but pain and fear. You're a vampire, Angel. You are implacable in your hatred. I don't expect you to forgive me, let alone anything… else.'

Angel breathed in slowly. 'The priest disagreed with you.'

Wesley eased himself very slowly down onto the arm of the couch, seemed to regret this, and stood again, leaning tiredly on the counter. 'I didn't think much of his theories on anything; as you know.' He winced again. 'Although, right now, some of his pontificating seems quite sensible.'

Angel pouted as if he didn't want to hear any humour in this.

'What do you want, Angel? Whatever it is, take it and go. I want to be left alone - get used to that again.'

Angel ran a hand through his hair and murmured, 'It would kill him.'

Frowning at this odd, unrelated comment, Wesley didn't respond but waited for the dark figure to elaborate.

Finally, Angel turned and looked at him. 'I think if I forgave you it would kill him.'

'Oh.' Wesley bit his lip, tipped his head back and blinked a few times at the ceiling.

Once more, Angel saw his hand snaking out to give comfort, and this time, he allowed the impulse. When he touched the flushed, hot cheek it was wet. Wesley snatched away, but Angel held him just as implacably as he had while he'd raped him.

The man looked away, utterly unable to look at Angel, but Angel ignored this and ran his finger down the hot, salty trails. 'What have I done?'

Wesley shook his head. 'Nothing. I told you: nothing.'

'I - I….' He suddenly turned away then turned back and propelled Wesley against the wall. He pinned him, wincing when Wesley winced. 'I thought one day I'd tell you what I did in those repeating days. I did it to see if it would work between us all. But we took you, and you didn't want it. Do you see? If you'd wanted it, I'd have told you. I'd have ended the spell and taken you for real! But every time, Wesley, it destroyed our friendship; how could I….'

For the first time, the human defended himself. Hurting, weak from a sleepless night of pain, he nevertheless pushed Angel off and said hoarsely, 'What did you expect? You didn't make love to me! You abused me! Made me your sport! Made me act like a little boy again and suck you like my fa….' He couldn't finish, the painful memories of another time and another land overwhelming him.

Wesley looked challengingly at the vampire then frowned at the shocked expression. They stared at each other silently. Angel's face collapsed, and he put his hand up to hide his expression. An overwhelming sense of déjà vu hit Wesley, and he hesitatingly took Angel's shoulders, murmuring, 'I'm so sorry. I believed him. I believed him. I should have known you better. I should have trusted you.'

'What have we both done?'

Hearing again a soft voice saying, "You have to forgive each other," Angel gently pulled Wesley into his arms and pushed his face into the soft, dark hair.

It was like coming home.

Wesley rested his hot, bruised face against the cool, flawless one and felt himself come back to life.

The stood for a long time, embracing tightly, as if they feared being pulled apart again. Eventually, however, Wesley eased the dark form off and said with his head bowed, 'I want what's best for you now, Angel. This may not be it.'

He didn't need to mention Spike's name. The blond vampire, and his implacable hatred, rose between them.

Angel hesitated for a moment then snatched him back. 'I don't care.'

Wesley eased him off again with a strange look. 'I'm not sure what I'm hearing here.'

Angel clenched his jaw. 'He's not the only one who has needs.'


Angel placed one finger over a button on Wesley's shirt but then snatched it off and ran his fingers through his hair. 'What am I doing? Fuck. You must hate me.'

He pushed past Wesley and went toward the door.


Angel stopped but didn't turn around.

'I use words as my defence - it's an English thing, I'm afraid. But I used the past tense in error.'

Angel's back stiffened.


The vampire turned and watched as the shirt landed softly on the carpet.

'Hating you is the very last thing on my mind.'

Neither remembered finding the bed. They didn't remember shedding clothes or falling together, rolling and kissing. It was only when Wesley cried out in pain that Angel drew away, coming back to himself. He eased his finger out of the swollen, torn hole, but before he could withdraw into his self-hatred, Wesley's mouth found him again, and he was kissed gently with lips full of forgiveness.

They only stilled when Wesley felt Angel smiling into the kiss. He eased off the mouth he'd never thought to be his again. 'What's so funny?' It was the old Wesley, and Angel bowed his head that such forgiveness could be his.

He chucked again. 'I'm at a loss. I'm kinda raring to go… somewhere… and can't.'

'Oh. Sorry.'

Angel pouted. 'Hardly your fault….'

Wesley caught his face. 'No, Angel. All my fault. You are what you are - you don't think like us or act like us, and it was my fault for forgetting that.'

Angel lay back and put his thumb to Wesley's cheek. 'Come here.' He pulled the warm human into his arms, and they just lay together, Wesley's head on Angel's broad chest. 'When you're healed.'

Wesley nodded. 'If we do this in the meantime, I think I'll pray that I never do.'

'Hmm, you like this, do you?'

'I think it's what I've been looking for my whole life.'

There was a long pause, and Angel said softly, 'He'd lost his soul, Wesley. It's what he's like then: making mischief. Remember, it was only his demon talking.'

'What a fucking mess this all is.'


Wesley began to swirl his finger around Angel's nipple until Angel said softly, 'That's really not helping.'

'Oh, sorry. So… what will you tell…?'

'Nothing. He's to know nothing of this.'

'Ah. Isn't that rather… dishonest?'

'He won't accept it; so, I'm avoiding the confrontation.'

'That's not like you.'

Angel tipped his head down and looked at the rumpled, dark hair. 'It's not like me to be in love with two people at the same time.'

Wesley sat up. He swallowed. His chin wobbled, and with a soft 'Fuck' he climbed off the bed and went to stand at the window.

Angel crawled off and stood behind him wrapping his arms around the battered, bruised body. 'He's not to find out. I won't be forced into making a choice between you.'

Wesley pursed his lip. 'If you had to make that choice, Angel, I do know who you would choose. I understand that.'

Angel only tightened his hold, pushed his face into Wesley's hair and repeated, 'He's not to find out.'

Spike pondered the strange evening, as he lay in the sleep warm bed alone. He'd thrown back the covers and lay stretched out in the sun.

He was trying to work out when it had all gone wrong.

It all seemed to stem from the moment Angel had left the office. Spike tried to remember where Angel had said he was going and suddenly sat up with a frown. He climbed off the bed and began to pace. He'd remembered.

Spike trailed Angel in his mind - saw him going into the apartment block.

He tipped back his head and cursed: Angel was regretting that he'd allowed him to move in with him. It was the only explanation.

It all made sense now: the anger at him walking into the shower, the childish outburst about a few dropped clothes.

Spike ran his fingers through his hair in an increasingly agitated manner, then suddenly ripped some clean clothes from the closet and headed out.

Sam opened after a long series of knocking. He was looking rough, dressed only in a towel, and Spike looked warily around the apartment. 'Is he still here?'

Sam shook his head and murmured, 'Are they, and no.'

Spike marched in, perched on one of the kitchen stools, and said seriously, 'I need some money.'

Sam scratched his belly and took a bottle of water from the fridge. 'You need a case?'

'Hey, Mate, clue in here, will you? I need for you to give me some money.'

Sam spilt some of the water and stared at Spike, amused.

'What? You're a friggin' millionaire now! You got ten percent of zillions when Angel sold the fucking Hyperion, didn't you? I got bleedin' nothing - and I'm his only bloody relative!'

Sam took a swallow of the water and chuckled. 'Okay… here's the deal. I'll swap what I got from Angel for what… you get from him.' He raised an eyebrow and waited for the explosion.

Spike was getting tired of slapping Sam: his victim just enjoyed it too much. He stomped over to the bed and sat on the edge. 'Cough up the fucking money and stop being such a cunt.'

Sam came and sat alongside him, tipping his head back to finish the last of the water. 'How much?'

Spike suddenly looked down at his nails and said casually, 'Well, see, here's the thing… so… how much would it… say you wanted to rent… I mean… what would the rent be on a place like Angel's?'

'Like yours.'


'It's yours too, Spike.'

'Yeah. Sure it is. So, how much do you reckon?'

Sam gave him his best estimate, and Spike did a pretty good impression of a rabbit caught in headlights. He swallowed and said as nonchalantly as he could, 'Okay. Can you borrow me 'nough for one month. Guess we do need a case.'

'You're going to sublet from yourself?'

'No. Wanker. I'm going to pay Angel rent.'

'Jeez. Kinky. I like it. But kinky.'

Spike gritted his teeth, tipped his head back, and said with as much patience as he could muster, 'SO?'

'Oh, sure. No problem.' He saw Spike's face relax with relief and added as subtly as he could, 'My terms are very reasonable.'

Spike kept his face impassive but flicked his eyes over to the human. 'You're joking, right?'

Sam twitched up an eyebrow and licked his lips, his tongue just flicking out to moisten them. 'I mean… just how grateful are you going to be…?'

Spike turned his head. 'You're gonna make me work for this, aren't you?'

'Oh yeah.'

'You are a cock-sucking son of a….'

'Now, Baby, is that any way to treat your new benefactor? Take your clothes off.'

'I'm not fucking taking my clothes off! What do you think this is?'

'I think this is me holding all the cards and you holding fuck all except your cock in a minute.'

Spike turned back to the front, tried to maintain his position of outrage but lost it completely. He fell back to the bed laughing. Sam bent to his ear. 'So… clothes.'

Shaking his head, Spike took hold of the bottom of his T-shirt and began to lift it. Sam stilled his hand. 'Not like that. Out there, on the floor. Put some music on, and do it slowly.'

Spike suddenly looked genuinely annoyed. 'No.'

Sam grinned and batted his eyes slightly. 'I've found a weak spot, haven't I? Something my badass Baby doesn't want to do….'

'You're gonna get yourself filled in, in a minute, Pet.'

'No…. you are. After you've stripped… and… crawled for a while.'

Spike pushed him off and sat up. 'Fuck the money.'

Sam waited patiently.

Spike twitched up his shoulder as if his ear itched and studied his nails for a while. 'I am so going to make you pay for this.'

Sam flipped around on the bed so he could lie on his belly, chin propped up in his hands, to watch. 'Pick something slow and sexy.'

Spike stomped over to the player and stuffed in the first thing he could find. A slow, heavy, sexual beat thumped out, and he tipped his head back, cursing. Sam laughed. 'They're all slow and sexy, Babe…. All good fuck music. Come closer. I want a good view.'

'I'm going to hunt you down, rip your head off and drink your fucking blood from the stump.'

'After I've paid you though.'

'Well, yeah.'

'So… T-shirt?'

Spike closed his eyes, thought about the money, and began to prostitute himself for the human.

As soon as Spike lifted his T-shirt, Sam's hand disappeared from sight. Spike heard the slight rustle and opened his eyes. He kept Sam's gaze and frowned slightly. He was turning the man on just by standing there, and that was an incredible aphrodisiac. His mood suddenly shifted, and he felt hot desire suffuse his body. When he dropped the T-shirt to the floor, therefore, he let it go with a slow, sensual opening of his fingers. He slid his hands across his belly, just holding onto the button of his jeans as if about to open them. Sam increased the slight movement he was making with his hand. Spike dropped his head, then looked up at the human through lowered eyes. Instead of opening his fly, he slid his hands slowly up to his nipples and played with them: pinching them up and twisting them, until they flushed dark on his pale body.

Sam hissed and lifted one thigh slightly, his arm now working urgently beneath him.

Spike pouted and slid one hand back down his belly, paused over the button, and then slid it in under the soft denim. Sam's eyes widened as his mind filled in the erotic picture: seeing what Spike touched, feeling what he felt. He suddenly knelt up and openly worked himself under the towel, the position occasionally giving Spike a glimpse of the engorged, weeping erection.

He slid his hand out and, one by one, undid the buttons on his jeans. As they opened, his jeans hung lower on his hips, wisps of dark hair escaping, until suddenly, Spike stopped before the last button. He put his hand back inside and, this time, a full, glistening tip emerged over the waistband as, out of sight, he held and fondled the root.

Sam gasped and flung his towel away, his penis now so wet that his hand made small slurping sounds as he worked it.

Spike kept Sam's gaze and then very slowly turned around.

He heard a high-pitched moan of gratitude and carefully eased his jeans down until they fell with a soft rustle to his ankles. He cupped his hard, flawless cheeks, running his palms over their smooth coolness.

With a small, private grin, he bent very slowly to release his feet from the tangle of clothing.

He bent very low.

He bent very low for a very long time.

When he was entirely naked, he turned back.

With his head tipped a little on one side, he sank gracefully to his knees. He licked his lips and crawled to the bed, seductively crawling up and over to the human.

Spike spread himself face down on the bed and turned to Sam. 'Fuck me?'

Sam almost tore him a new hole.

He thrust in so hard that Spike arched in pain, and they both cried out in their separate pleasure. Spike rose and spread his legs, dipping at the waist, his fingers clawing into the sheet with need.

Sam paused for just a moment to enjoy once more the exquisite and unique feel of his flesh, raw against raw flesh, and then he took Spike - hard and fast, as they both wanted it.

He pushed his fingers through Spike's hair and held onto it painfully, tugging his head back like reins. 'You liked that. You like being my fucking whore, don't you?'

Spike ripped his head around and tired to bite Sam's fingers. Sam dug in more and began to pant. 'Did you get hard being watched, Babe? I know you did. You've not done that before, have you? Everyone else's so afraid of you: the bad, scary demon. But I think you're a whore. You sell your body for money, Spike, and you love it.'

Spike darted his head around again, but this time, feral, amber eyes flashed at the human. Sam leant in and moaned, rising slightly to the thrusting so he could push his cock further into Spike's rectum. 'Do it, Spike. Play vampires with me. Please.'

Spike flicked his head as trying to shake off water, but if he was trying to deny the human this pleasure, it didn't work. With a low snarl, he turned to watch the fucking, and Sam began to pant raggedly at the sight of what he was fucking.

He held the demon's hair once more and began to pull viciously. 'Wanna hurt me now? Wanna stop me?'

Before he really knew what had happened, like watching sharks feeding in a tank, all was thrashing and a blur of limbs, and Sam found himself under the vampire, being taken, blood trickling down his thighs. Then fangs descended on his throat.

'You play with the fucking devil, Human.'

Sam nodded and stretched his throat tight, the pulse in his neck juddering visibly just under his tanned, perfect skin.

'Suck me, Spike. Fuck me and suck me. I wanna play with you.'

Spike lowered his mouth, the temptation almost overwhelming him, but he lowered only to the man's chest and ran his fangs lightly around the prominent nipple. With a hiss, he bit into it, drawing blood.

Sam screamed and arched as if he was about to come, but Spike clamped his hand around the base of his cock. He nuzzled slowly down from the bleeding nipple as he thrust hard into the soft tissue, his balls thumping the human's perineum at every inward stroke.

When he reached Sam's cock, he flicked his tongue over the copious stream of clear, sticky fluid. 'Do you want the devil?' Without waiting for an answer, he bit into Sam's swollen cockhead, inserting his fang into the man's pisshole.

Despite the hold around his shaft, Sam arched, his entire body strung like tight wire, and a stream of cum ejected, shooting into Spike's face, hitting his eyes, running down his sharp cheekbones.

Spike flung his head back and shuddered his release deep into the human's body, and as he ejaculated, he howled as if he were taking his pleasures on the man's body in a far more primeval way.

The bed stank of sweat and cum and blood, and with a small, shared groan, they fell happily together into the damp delight.

Spike glanced over at his jeans but couldn't be bothered to attempt the vast distance to fetch his cigarettes. Sam grinned, stretched his hand to the nightstand and produced some slightly stronger ones. They smoked together, sharing the joint.

'If I'm permanently damaged, I'm suing you.'

Spike chuckled and slid seductively over to the stretched figure. 'I'll check, shall I?'

He slipped Sam's semi-hard penis into his mouth and sucked gently on the abused tip. He eased off. 'There, all better.'

Sam forced his head back. 'No, it's not.'

Spike got comfortable and played with the slowly stiffening penis.

'He won't take the money, by the way. Thought I'd mention that.'

Spike looked up. 'And I get that wise remark after you've had your fun….'

'Of course. I'm learning from a master.'

'Yeah. And he'll have to. I pay my way, or I move out.'

'Move in here.'

Spike did not mistake the deceptively casual tone this was said in and crawled up to lie alongside the human. 'I'll bear that offer in mind.'

Sam shrugged as if it was nothing and guided Spike back down to other business.

Go To Final Chapter of Ep 1

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