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The Darkling Plain
Spike woke before dawn, wondering idly what had woken him. With a smile, he realised that nothing had- no spell, no life and death problems, no fear, no confusion. He was warm; he was comfortable, and he was in love. It made him chuckle, and Angel stirred slightly then turned over and spread comfortably on his belly.
With another small chuckle, Spike slid carefully out of bed and went softly into the other room, pulling on a pair of jeans and a shirt. The puppy watched him from where he lay on Angel's bed, and with his finger to his lips, Spike nodded at him to follow. Obediently, the dog trotted into the elevator with him.
They crossed the agency and went out through the basement into the street. Trying not to appear concerned whether the dog followed him or not, Spike went toward the small coffee shop they'd discovered the night they'd found The Crypt.
He pushed open the door and went in, ignoring the fact that someone had let a dog in too.
The young man who'd served them before looked up from a book he was reading, as if surprised anyone was about this early. He nodded at Spike then eyed the dog. 'He can't come in.'
Spike shrugged and went to the counter. 'Two coffees and four doughnuts to go.'
'The dog has to go.'
'Tell 'im then. 'S not mine.'
The man frowned and went to pick the dog up, but backed off when a vicious growl issued forth from the small creature.
Spike gave the puppy a look of approval and repeated his order. Trying not to look as if he was afraid of something smaller than the stack of doughnuts on the counter, the young man began to pour the coffee.
'You live around here then?'
Spike nodded. 'In a manner of speaking. Hell, yes, I do live. Around here, that is.'
'Not seen you around.'
'Not one for eating much.'
'Okay. So… I'm Grant, by the way.'
'Your friend live here too?'
Spike kept his face neutral. He heard the interest. 'Yeah.'
'Uh huh. So…. Does he eat? I mean, is he going to come in again?'
Spike looked up at the boy as he put the food into a box. The stab of jealously he felt at the innocent, almost naïve enquiry astounded him. He suddenly saw Angel from this young man's point of view and had the startling realisation that he had what other people wanted. It made him feel vulnerable. It made him feel… incredible. It made him feel alive.
He laughed as he paid, then whistled to the dog whom, seemingly embarrassed at his earlier outburst, trotted meekly at his heels along the road.
Balancing the coffee carefully, Spike negotiated their way back up into the agency. He held the door for the dog and then turned to find himself face to face with Wesley.
They both stopped and stared at each other for a moment, and the strange emotions that had been swirling around Spike all evening washed over him once more. He saw Wesley as someone intensely human, someone who made mistakes, who was jealous, who wanted what he had- as someone who had nothing, whereas he had… everything. Spike blinked and thought about what he had upstairs asleep in bed. They would drink the coffee together; he would eat the doughnuts and force Angel to try pieces. They would make love, perhaps for the whole day. They would laugh and talk, making love in those ways too. This man, however, would have nothing.
Suddenly, he wanted the man to have more- he wanted to give him more, but given what had happened so recently between them, what that more could be confused him.
Slowly, Spike reached into the box and handed Wesley a doughnut.
As if in a daze, the man reached out and took it. He stared at it, apparently also seeing more in this small gesture than an offering of breakfast. Letting it hang limply from his fingers he murmured a confused, 'Thank you.'
'I- err…. Will you tell Angel that all is well down here? I want him to enjoy his… holiday.'
Spike nodded again.
Suddenly, Wesley pulled his hand up and murmured, 'Bloody dog!' He peered at the area of licked sugar and, with a shrug, put the doughnut down on the floor. 'You might as well eat it now.' He looked up to Spike. 'Is it okay for him to have that?'
Spike looked surprised. He had no idea what he was supposed to say. Before he could frame a reply, Wesley added, 'What's he called, by the way?'
Spike looked down. 'Dunno. 'S gotta be something Irish, apparently.'
Wesley smiled slowly. 'Perhaps Boyne?'
Spike jerked his head back at the thoughtful, amused expression on the man's face and then began to laugh. Wesley gave him a look through veiled lids. 'That's a sound I didn't think I'd hear again.'
Spike bent, swept up the dog, and went toward the elevator. He too had felt that the laughter was good, but he'd be damned if he was going to admit that to the man just yet.
Angel was still asleep.
Spike put the food down on the bed, slid off his shirt, but then paused. Carefully, he uncovered the sleeping figure, feasting his eyes on the long, lean, muted brown flesh. Angel's body was perfect; like a Bob Mizer model, his buttocks were softly rounded and shining as if oiled. The thighs were so powerful, so muscular, and they balanced perfectly with the broad flare of his shoulders and the power of his arms.
Suddenly, Spike swept the small concession to being so bloody human off the bed, unzipped himself, and climbed on the sleeping figure for a more vampire-like breakfast.
Angel woke to the feeling of being taken. He moaned and pushed back; there was a gasp from behind, and then they were furious in their passion once more. He pushed onto his hands and knees, spreading his legs. 'Oh…. Jesus, that's so good.'
'Like that, do you?' Spike moaned softly as he swelled to Angel's praise and increased the slick thrusting. He ran his hands around Angel's waist. 'Hold yourself for me.'
Angel put one hand out of sight and arched his back at this new pleasure.
'Yeah, that's right.' Spike knelt higher and shifted position slightly. 'Oh, bloody hell, I needed this….'
Fast, furious, they came together with panting cries of need. Angel watched his sperm shoot out onto the pale sheet and felt Spike release his load deep in his body. He groaned and lowered to the bed, Spike lying heavy and still on top on him, still deeply embedded.
After a few moments, Angel felt a small shaking on his back and twisted his head round. 'Share the joke?'
Spike shook his head but murmured, 'I was thinking of our first time.'
Angel laid his head down on the damp sheet, deep in thought. He glanced sideward at Spike and said softly, ' I was… scared.'
Spike gave him a look. 'You were pissed off- I don't remember fear.'
Angel shrugged. 'Not exactly something I'd admit.' After a moment, he added, 'Then.'
Spike stretched and made himself more comfortable on Angel's back, then reached down and dragged the box of doughnuts on alongside them. He took a bite and dipped his finger in the filling, wiping it across Angel's lips. When Angel frowned and wrinkled his nose at the unfamiliar, sugary taste, Spike grinned and began feeding him small pieces.
'Dog's been named, by the way.'
Angel twisted around again. 'Uh huh. By you…?'
'Boyne. Good, hey?'
It took a while, but the look on Angel's face when he worked out that his dog had been called after the complete rout and subsequent enslavement of the Irish by the English was worth that small, anticipatory pause.
With a growl, he turned over sharply in the bed, dislodging Spike's softening shaft. He reared up, his eyes flashing amber.
'You think you've conquered me?'
Spike, trying desperately to suppress his laughter, nodded sagely.
Angel pinned his arms crucified on the bed and suddenly dipped and bit into one armpit. Spike howled in mock agony and tried to writhe away. Angel straddled him and looked at him speculatively. 'Take it back.'
Spike's eyebrow raised a fraction. 'No.'
Angel mirrored the small interrogative. 'Take it back.'
It was all-out war. Angel jabbed his head down and bit Spike's nipple. Spike brought his legs up hard and thumped them into Angel's back, sending him toppling over. When he was off balance, Spike wriggled out from under him and tried to get off the bed. Angel caught his ankle and held on, but Spike had reached the edge of the deck and clung on, kicking to be free. Angel dragged himself closer, using Spike's leg, but once he'd fallen to the floor, Spike twisted away and made it to the couch before he was flattened. They tumbled off onto the floor, but Angel was laughing too much to capitalise on his victory, and it was fairly easy for Spike to skitter over the back of the couch and out into the main room.
There weren't many places to run, but hitching up his jeans, he charged across the floor through the small well and crashed into Angel's room, heading for the weapons' cabinet.
He couldn't get the sword he wanted off the board before Angel caught him again. This time he was flattened with no hope of escape, his face pressing against the blade of an axe. Angel murmured his appreciation into the back of Spike's neck, his hands exploring further down. Spike heard his zip being ripped down, and Angel whispered urgently, 'Kick them off.'
When Spike was naked, Angel resumed his exploration of the perfect body; it was always new territory; it always astounded him that it was his.
'Spread for me.'
Spike slid one foot across the floor, and Angel's fingers sought him out, entered, and began to work their magic inside his body. Spike reached up and held onto one of the swords for support as his body was wracked with shivers of pleasure. 'Can you take more?'
Spike nodded and another finger was added. He arched back, and suddenly Angel caught him around the waist and bent him over one of the green leather armchairs. With no further preliminaries, he stabbed into the slightly open hole. They both hissed, and for a moment, Angel slowed the furious pace, just riding slowly in and out while he absorbed the erotic picture of Spike bent over the chair.
Spike's fingers began to massage into the leather, urging Angel on. He twisted his head around and caught Angel's gaze. 'Fuck me- hard….'
With a moan of appreciation, Angel grabbed him around the hips and pounded his hard column deep into Spike's body. The muscles in Spike's arm flexed as they took the pounding. Angel's thighs were hard and rigid as they held him flexed to the perfect position to embed his long, swollen cock.
The only sound in the room was the smacking of flesh upon flesh. They could smell the potent scent of the leather: a subtle reminder of past lives and pleasures.
As if driven by these two sensations, Angel suddenly raised his hand and whipped the flat palm down onto Spike's backside. The slap resounded around the room. Spike gasped and put his face down onto the arm of the chair. Angel watched with morbid fascination as Spike's cheek turned a vivid red. It was so beautiful - like a promise of blood trying to escape. He decided to free that blood. The second slap brought forth a moan of desire; at the third, Spike lifted his head and howled his demonic delight.
Angel fucked and smacked and pounded Spike until there was nothing but pain and pleasure, and then with an explosive shout, as if outraged that it was over, he propelled a huge stream of cum into Spike's body. Shaking, almost unable to keep his legs braced, his arm aching from the spanking, he nevertheless fumbled to Spike's front and fisted him urgently, so his childe could have an orgasm as well.
With a shudder, and a deep catch in his voice, Spike let a stream of pale fluid shoot out over the old leather. It dripped slowly down the arm, filling the air with another potent scent. With all their senses acute, they collapsed inelegantly together, Spike half into the chair, Angel at his feet where he lay panting on the floor.
Spike tried to see the damage. 'I need a bloody mirror.'
'Let me see, Baby.' Angel inspected his handiwork with fascination and then rose and licked across the red-hot skin. He pulled Spike off the chair and manoeuvred them so Spike lay astride him, facing away. Spike put his face down to inhale the intense scent of Angel's spent cum, and Angel lifted his head to lick and play with Spike's backside.
It didn't take long for Angel to hiss with enjoyment as his soft cock was sucked slowly into a cool mouth. He murmured his pleasure and showed his gratitude by pushing his tongue deep into the stretched, leaking hole. Spike's sucking increased, and Angel swelled again, their mutual tonguing arousing each other. He could taste his own release inside Spike and licked appreciatively around the slick walls, exploring to see how far he could push in and what he could stimulate. Spike began to push back slightly, and he took Angel's balls in one hand, playing with them as he sucked and licked the leaking, bulbous head.
When Spike used his other fist to run up and down the stiffening penis, Angel breathed, 'Yesss…' and the sound vibrated the delicate nerves around Spike's anus. He arched down on Angel, bending subtly at the waist, but his working of the throbbing cock increased.
Suddenly, with a cry, Angel flung his head back and came once more. Spike became frantic: swallowing, licking, sucking, until there was nothing left. When Angel was totally dry, Spike let the soft penis slide from his lips, and he spun around on Angel's chest. He knelt over Angel's face and offered his own erection to the soft lips, tracing its leaking tip around their pink curves until they parted and took him in.
His foreskin dragged back as he slipped inside, and he rode his cockhead in and out for a while before plunging the whole shaft deep into the willing mouth. Angel tipped his head back slightly, opening his throat, and with a moan of deep gratitude, Spike's cock hit the back wall. He braced over Angel and fucked his face urgently, his head thrown back with the pleasure of the tight, warm wetness.
When he felt Angel's finger seeking him out once more, when it slipped in on his wetness, when it pressed against his swollen prostate, he screamed and filled Angel's throat with cum, shot after shot coating the warm walls and running down to fill the waiting belly. Angel began to swallow rapidly and hungrily, and for one moment, Spike almost blacked out with the unbelievable pleasure surfing through his entire body.
With a groan, he finished and slipped off in a slightly theatrical faint.
Compared to the choice of beds or couches available to them, it was uncomfortable and cold on the floor of Angel's room, but they didn't even attempt to rise for some time. It was only the sunlight, which began to flood in from the main room that tempted them to move.
With a groan, Angel sat up and ran a hand through his hair. Spike held out his hand, and Angel pulled him to his feet as he got up.
Before they got back into the warm light, Spike pulled Angel back and kissed him swiftly. 'We forgot that.'
Angel smiled and held him loosely around the waist, kissing back, enjoying the closeness. Almost reluctantly, they pulled apart and crossed over the threshold into the light.
The sun never ceased to amaze them, and for a moment, they stood together, their faces tipped back to the midday heat.
Suddenly, Spike chuckled and jogged over to the bed. He dragged off the quilt and some pillows and spread them out in the middle of the floor. Angel grinned and strolled over, rummaging for his book amidst the detritus of their first day on holiday. He wrinkled his nose at the smell from the discarded food then swept off all the coverings and took them over to the washer.
He grabbed some blood from the fridge and joined Spike for an afternoon of sunbathing.
Angel read; Spike didn't. They were so close now that they could lie side-by-side without speaking for an entire afternoon without once thinking they needed that external communication.
They turned; they rubbed cooling lotion into hot skin, and occasionally, they kissed and played gently with each other's bodies.
Spike slept, and still Angel read, his head resting in the comfortable small of Spike's back.
When Spike woke, he stretched a hand around to make sure Angel didn't move and lay contentedly on his belly, enjoying the feeling of Angel's hair brushing his skin.
'What do you want to do tonight?'
Spike's voice surprised them both, and Angel chuckled, shutting his book. He turned over to mirror Spike's position and pillowed his head on folded arms. 'Your choice tonight.'
Spike turned his head, and they were inches apart. 'Drink, dinner and a movie.'
Angel looked slightly surprised, but before he could comment, Spike added softly, lowering his eyes, 'I wanna do something… normal. Like real people.'
Spike flashed him look. 'Something wrong with that?'
Angel looked thoughtful. 'It'll kinda be my first in two hundred and fifty years.'
Spike smiled softly. 'Yeah. Scary, isn't it?'
Once more, Angel rose and pulled Spike to his feet. 'Shower? I wanna look good for our first date, ya know?'
Spike was tempted to say that Angel would look good whatever he wore, but saw that Angel was trying not to think this too. Instead, he gave him a punch for being so vain.
Laughing, they went together into the shower and turned on the reviving water. It stung their sun-hot skin, and they turned and twisted under its influence, feeling their own unique brand of life returning.
to Chapter 3
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