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The Darkling Plain
They stood together, facing the open elevator doors, squaring their shoulders, psyching themselves up to entering.
'They're all gonna know, aren't they?'
Angel nodded grimly.
'Whole holiday spent shagging.'
Again, Angel nodded then murmured weakly, 'We went to a gallery.....'
It did nothing to make the going back to work any easier.
Suddenly, the puppy strolled nonchalantly past them and sat in the elevator, licking his balls.
Spike chuckled. 'Come on. Dickhead is okay 'bout it.'
Angel gritted his teeth. Giving any indication that he'd noticed Spike's corruption of the dog's name would only guarantee its use from then on; Angel had discovered two centuries ago that ignoring Spike was sometimes his only defence.
They rode down together and stepped out, parting, going to offices, coffee, something leather to chew on- anything to keep from having to notice if knowing smiles were creeping around the faces of prurient humans.
Spike put his feet up on his desk and picked up the phone.
'Sam? Get your butt over here now.'
'What about these gorgeous new offices? We've been putting up curtains.'
'Yeah. Coffee's on.'
He turned to look at Angel through the open door that connected them. They gave each other a small, knowing smile, and then Angel turned to watch Wesley coming in.
'Welcome back. You look... actually, you look rather done in.'
Angel demurred and distracted him by pushing his inbox forward. 'You've been busy.'
Wesley nodded and sat down for their daily update, and even from his office, Spike could feel the deep sense of happiness that this familiarity gave Angel.
Angel turned to him and nodded briefly at the remaining chair. Spike pursed his lips, then joined them, moving the chair well away from Wesley, but making this seem as if he only wanted to sit closer to the door so he could smoke.
Angel fell for the ruse; Spike could see from Wesley's brief, dark frown that he didn't.
They talked about cases, discussed the changes to the agency, and caught up on the general gossip. Spike sat and smoked, making no contribution. He was trying - for Angel - but the effort silenced him.
At last, Wesley coughed slightly, and before Angel could move on to another point, he laughed softly and said, 'I think I really do need to take that trip home I've been threatening for the last few weeks.'
Angel looked speculatively at him, and Wesley gave him another reassuring smile. 'I need to put my father's house on the market, and frankly, it needs an awful lot of redecoration before I do. It's very hard to arrange it all from here. Besides, holidays seem to be the norm now, so I thought a couple of weeks enjoying the nice Autumn sunshine I hear they've been having....' He trailed off watching Angel closely under the pretext of not watching him at all, and Angel only nodded distractedly.
'Sure. Couple of weeks. Why not? When are you going?'
As Wesley had only just decided on this plan in reaction to Spike's cold neutrality, he replied, slightly flustered, 'Tomorrow? I mean, tomorrow. '
Angel nodded then turned to answer his phone, which rang shrilly at his side.
Wesley rose and went out to pour himself some coffee.
Spike waited for Angel to finish his call but cursed under his breath when Angel pointed to Wesley's back, clearly wanting him to be fetched back.
He mentally gritted his teeth but went out to the coffee bar.
'Angel wants you.' He didn't hear the words until they were spoken aloud, and if the earth could have swallowed him up at that moment, he'd have been delighted.
Wesley's shoulders tensed, and he turned slowly. 'It's a very good act, Spike. You've got him fooled. I'll be gone for a lot longer than two weeks probably. Out of your way.'
Spike toed the ground. 'Don't go on my account. You're not that important.'
'I'm going on Angel's account, not yours. He'll see through the act soon, and then he'll be torn between placating you and wanting me.'
Spike's eyes widened and then narrowed. 'He doesn't fucking placate me.' There was something in the focus on that part of Wesley's comment that made them both regroup slightly.
Wesley nodded. 'I'm sorry. That was immature. I don't know why I'm going, but I want Angel to be happy. He gets this expression on his face when he looks at you, and I want to see that look there all the time.'
'If you go, you won't be here to see it.'
Wesley frowned. 'Are you saying you don't mind me here?'
Spike pouted and continued to toe the ground. 'I want Angel to be happy, too.'
Wesley sighed deeply. 'What a bloody mess this all this.'
Spike nodded glumly.
'But I do actually need to go. I need to sell the damn house, and I can't do it from here.'
Spike shrugged. 'Anyway, Angel wants you.' He turned away, well aware how ambiguous that last had been.
Being pragmatic, Wesley took it for a summons and went thoughtfully back to Angel's office.
Spike hovered, debating what to do next, when he looked up to find his small team arriving. Chuckling, he intercepted them and said lowly, 'Staff meeting. Now.'
Grinning, they both followed him back out into the soft evening air.
Knowing he was being given amused looks behind his back, Spike shook his shoulders out and led the way to the coffee shop. He took a table by the wall and lit up, watching Jordan and Sam sit down.
'Things have changed. We're moving back in with Angel Investigations, and I'm moving back up top.'
They grinned at him as they heard the deliberate echo of an earlier and much sadder declaration. Sam began to hum happily but stopped when an excited, pleased voice said, 'Oh, hi, you're back.'
He turned, and Grant blushed deeply, mumbling, 'Sorry, I thought you were someone else.'
He looked with a confuse expression toward Spike and seemed about to comment on the total unfairness of him having an Angel look-alike as well, when Sam leant back seductively and said, 'I'll be whoever you want me to be.'
Grant blushed even deeper, and Jordan shifted slightly in his chair.
Suspecting whom the demon was planning to change into, Spike laid a warning foot on his leg and, amused, said to Grant, 'Three coffees and doughnuts.'
Grant noted it down and went off, still blushing.
Sam gave it all of a minute, glanced back into the kitchen and said, rising, 'Maybe he needs help with his... doughnuts.'
Spike and Jordan laughed as he drifted toward the back of the shop, and Spike murmured, 'Yeah, nuts of some sort.' He gave Jordan a look, and then said more evenly, 'How's he been?'
Jordan smiled. 'I gave you a hard time about that- kinda... surprised myself, ya know?'
Spike moved his foot further up and lit a cigarette. 'You give me a hard... time... all the time.'
'Uh huh, someone's feeling better.'
'Thanks to sneaky buggers who lie and connive behind his back, yeah.'
'Do you think we're ever gonna get coffee?'
Spike shrugged. 'How long will it take him?'
Jordan mimed calculating then grinned. 'Maybe we should go help.'
Deliberately ignoring this, Spike leant forward on the table, running his hands through his hair. 'Wesley's going to England for a few weeks.'
'Oooo... we said the dreaded W word.'
'So... are you up for some fun tomorrow? Or do you have laundry? Housework? Or maybe washing your hair?'
'You trying to get a smacking, Mate?'
Jordan laughed. 'That would be a fun start, yeah. I was thinking: bar - preceded by smacking if you insist - then maybe another bar and then... Babel.'
Spike leant back and took a long drag, squinting through the smoke at Jordan. 'Okay.'
Jordan let out a small breath of pleasure. 'Okay. Tomorrow then.'
They both knew the pleasure was not due to anticipation of either alcohol or the club.
'You get that this is Sam's way of showing you that he's over his Spike-stalker phase, right?'
Spike nodded. 'Yeah, I'm sensing recovery.'
Jordan flicked his eyes over, and they both watched Sam saunter back to the table. He slid in with a shy, but self-satisfied grin.
Spike stubbed his cigarette out and then groaned disgustedly when Sam licked his lips slightly. 'Jesus, I'm suddenly off eating anything from here. Come on- back to work.'
Laughing at how ludicrous this sounded, they walked back out into the night together.
Jordan flung his arm over both their shoulders. 'Let's go get your clothes- before you argue with dark and sexy, and move out again.'
Spike gave him a don't-push-your-luck look but murmured wryly, 'And that would be the clothes you needed Angel to help carry?'
Laughing delightedly, Jordan and Sam only steered him pointedly away from their place of work.
The next day, Wesley did not make an appearance in the office until the evening. He came in, carrying a small holdall, and went into Angel's office.
Spike was sitting with his feet up on one of the couches, feeding the dog chocolate chip cookies, and didn't look up as he passed.
'I'm off, Angel.'
Angel looked up, 'Need a ride?'
'I've got a taxi waiting, but thank you anyway.'
Angel rose and came around to Wesley's side of the table. If he glanced at Spike, it was such a surreptitious glance that Wesley didn't see it; nevertheless, he said in a low voice, 'I'll walk you out,' picked up the holdall and, going stiffly past the couch, went down toward the basement.
Wesley paused by the couch. 'That'll rot his teeth.'
'I'm planning to turn 'im before that happens.'
'Ah. Quite. Did Angel appreciate the name?'
Spike didn't want a conversation so replied coldly, 'He's got a new one: Droichead.'
Wesley looked interested. 'That's rather nice- suitable.'
Spike looked down nonchalantly at the cookies and broke one into pieces, letting the crumbs fall onto the couch.
Wesley watched the lowered head then commented, amused, 'You don't know what it means, do you?'
Spike shrugged dismissively. 'Neither do you.'
'I started to study Gaelic when I… when I met Angel. I'm surprised you never thought to.'
'Well, that's me, always surprising everyone.'
Well, I'll see you later then.'
'Have a good trip. Don't hurry back.'
'Look after him.'
Spike looked up for the first time and said curtly, 'Don't be so fucking patronising, Human.'
Wesley frowned and adjusted his glasses slightly, regarding the cold eyes. 'And maybe you should stop being such a cunt.' On that very uncharacteristic assessment, Wesley flicked one eyebrow up accusingly and spun on his heel to follow Angel to the basement.
Spike felt himself flush, which was disturbing, and watched the tall human leave with troubled eyes.
Angel was pre-paying the cab, and he straightened when Wesley appeared.
'No need to do that.'
Angel shrugged. 'Call me when you get there.'
Angel looked down, shyly. 'I mean it. First thing- call me.'
'All right. From the house. I've left the address and number on your desk- if you want to contact me. You will contact me if things… if you find… I mean…. Bugger.'
'Wesley, just go already?' He softened the words by pulling Wesley closer with the lapels of his jacket and touching their foreheads briefly. With a chuckle, he straightened the human's glasses and then pursed his lips. 'Things are better: you're here; he's here.'
Wesley's eye flicked for a moment with a small twitch, but he nodded. 'Yes.' He took his bag from Angel and, with a small glance, said softly, 'No kiss goodbye?'
Angel frowned. 'And that would be no for so many reasons.'
Wesley suppressed a grin. 'Public street?'
Angel didn't bother to suppress his. 'Both men?'
'Ah. There is that. Taxi driver watching us?'
'Master Vampire and his human employee?'
'Watcher and Vampire?'
'Very confused vampire with a volatile lover he doesn't want to lose.'
'Human, who'd do pretty much anything to make that vampire's life less confusing.'
Angel toed the pavement for a moment. 'Don't stay away, Wes. Two weeks is all I can spare you for.'
Wesley nodded, leant forward and kissed Angel. 'Not confused human. I'll call when I get there.' He climbed into the back seat and tapped the driver on the shoulder to move.
Angel walked slowly back inside, closing the doors. He climbed the stairs and went into the agency, looking around for Spike. He joined him over by the coffee machine and was handed a freshly brewed cup.
'He kissed me- kinda dutiful, and I felt….'
Spike nudged him. 'It's okay, Angel.'
Angel sipped his coffee and then said deceptively casually, 'What are you doing tonight? Beside saving the helpless of LA, that is?'
Spike found something interesting inside the coffee machine and, as he busied himself sorting it, said also very casually, 'Just the usual. Nothing special.'
'Nothing special with Sam and Jordan.'
'Well, yeah. That okay?'
'Yes, Spike. It's okay.'
They gave each other quick glances, and then Spike chuckled. 'If we weren't being watched, I'd kiss you.'
Angel's eyes dilated slightly. 'What time are you meeting them?'
Spike bit his lower lip with a seductive smile. 'When I've finished with you.'
Coffee spilt over the bar as they carelessly discarded it. Trying not to actually run, they bundled into the elevator, laughing.
Angel caught Spike around the waist and turned him to face the wall, ripping down the back of his pants. 'Spread as much as you can.'
Spike made a small growl of need as Angel's strong fingers entered him. Now half way between the two floors, Angel slammed his hand onto the emergency stop. 'We never did christen this properly.'
Spike slid his hands slowly over the cool walls for a moment then brought them back to the bottom of his shirt. 'Let's do it properly now then.' He lifted his shirt over his head and stepped out of his pants.
Slowly, he began to undo Angel's shirt buttons, swaying his hips slightly into him at each small release.
Angel watched the slim, strong fingers. 'I'm going to fuck you into that wall, Spike. They'll be a permanent Spike-shaped dent in it.'
Spike cast a seductive glance up to him through lowered lids, and Angel ripped the rest of his clothes off. He threw Spike into the wall and crushed against him. The small elevator wobbled on its cable at the impact.
'Where are you? Oh, yeah, there….' Angel rubbed his fingers over the enticing hole for a while, nuzzling into Spike's hairline, smelling him. 'Tell me what you've got planned for tonight, you fucking little whore.'
Spike swivelled his eyes around to catch Angel's expression and let out a sound of total, animalistic desire at the beginning of such a game. He wrenched away from the strong hold and backed to another corner. 'I'm gonna fuck a human, Angel. Someone warm and someone who… ughh.' He doubled over as Angel's fist sank into his belly. 'I'm gonna suck him and….' Spike went down onto his knees as Angel chopped him across the back of the neck.
Angel stood to him, and held out his cock as if about to urinate. 'You're gonna suck me.'
Spike looked up with his best mutinous expression. It had worked well enough for a skanky hell-God. 'Fuck you.'
Angel dug his fingers into Spike's scalp, pulling his head back into a good position. 'Suck me and make it good.'
Angel hit him with a massive back-hander across the face, but held tightly onto the blond hair so he could keep him on his knees. 'Suck me.'
Spike spat out some blood and hung his head as if totally defeated. Angel groaned at the sense of power it gave him to stand over his beaten, broken childe and offered his cock once more.
This time, Spike took it reverently, as if it were a great gift bestowed on someone unworthy, and that made Angel swell more, his cockhead now leaking badly, a small, steady stream of clear fluid dripping to the metallic floor.
Spike opened his split lips and let the cool tip touch his tongue. Angel tipped his head back and leant on the wall, closing his eyes in bliss.
Spike slid his hands around Angel's hips and grasped his buttocks, pulling on them for purchase as he rode his mouth up and down the slick column.
Angel's hands crept to the back on his head, urging him a little bit further on each time, holding him a little bit longer, making him move a little bit faster.
Spike had never been so glad that he didn't need to breath. The blow job seemed to draw out into infinite time, just the feel of Angel filling his mouth, the smell of Angel - musky and warm and enticing - the sound of Angel breathing deeply: a reassuring sound of the human in him enjoying the sucking as much as the demon.
It couldn't last forever, as much as they both wanted it to. Eventually, Spike felt the penis swell and pulse, and he knew what was coming. Angel doubled over slightly, crying out harshly, and then held Spike tightly to him so he couldn't move. His legs shaking, his hips thrusting, Angel humped a powerful orgasm into Spike's throat, grinding his childe's face into him as he rode the intense surges.
When Angel collapsed to his knees, the entire elevator shook alarmingly, but once more, neither of them noticed. Angel put his forehead to the floor and groaned. Spike slid around him and lifted the smooth backside slightly.
Angel spread his legs, and Spike entered.
Angel thought he was done. He felt empty. The feeling of being taken from behind, naked on all fours, seemed to reanimate him. He put his hand down to a recovering erection and worked himself to match Spike's long, slow thrusting.
Spike ran his hands over the curved, strong back, tickling a finger over the prominent spine, easing it lower to touch his own shaft as it slipped in and out of the tight hole.
At the end, when his swelling need broke inside Angel's body, Spike fell onto the broad back, crushing them together, fastening his hands around Angel's belly and jerking his orgasm until he was totally drained.
He slipped out and lay on the floor, done in.
Angel eased himself down onto his belly and put his head on Spike's lap.
His fingers found Spike's mouth, and he felt around the swelling lips, bringing them back to his own mouth to taste the faint trace of blood.
'My name'll be taken in vain tonight, I'm thinking.'
'I'll tell 'em I ran into a cupboard.'
Angel crawled up and kissed Spike lovingly, urging his tongue into the willing mouth, smiling at Spike's strange, rumpled hair.
He reached up and punched the elevator button once more, and the doors slid open to their apartment.
Sighing, they climbed to their feet, collected their clothes, and padded toward the shower.
'You gonna to stay out all night?'
'Find something I wouldn't do, and enjoy it.'
Spike slapped Angel's backside hard and threw him a towel.
to chapter 2
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