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The Darkling Plain - Episode
On the Friday of the party, Spike opened Sam's door and walked into a sea of men. He closed his eyes in his effective get-rid-of-sea-of-men tactic, then opened them and cursed- sea of men was still there: young, beautiful men.
Sam suddenly materialised at his side and mouthed over the noise of the music, 'What's your pleasure?'
At Spike's slightly nervous look, Sam held up and glass and raised his eyebrows expectantly.
Spike looked relieved. 'I'll get myself something.'
Sam grinned and floated happily back to the throng.
Not feeling at all like socialising, Spike looked in vain for Jordan- he was always good to stand quietly with and not have to make an effort.
He grinned when he saw the back of a young man standing surrounded by other beautiful young men. This one stood out- his backside perfect in black leather, every line and hard edge of his torso defined in an electric-blue, skin-tight T-shirt.
Spike grinned. He'd found Jordan, abusing his unique talent and being the most beautiful man in the room. He was just about to go over when the figure turned to accept a drink.
Spike felt a painful jolt stab right through his body, and he wasn't at all sure whether it was from discovering that the beautiful young man was Angel, or from the knowledge that he'd not sensed him or connected at all with him until he'd actually seen his face. Before he'd turned, he had been just another young, male body. A century and a half of shared blood had been wiped out.
Sam peeled off from his admirers and came up to Spike. 'Hey, you're not drinking yet! I need you drunk, Babe, or you won't do that fun thing you do: vomit in my bed and talk about Angel.'
'What the fuck is Angel doing here?'
'Oh, isn't he fabulous? He's my exhibit.'
'Your fucking what?'
'I'm doing my own Queer Eye, Babe. Only, of course, Angel-buns isn't straight. Mere semantics in the overall scheme of things, though.'
'Sam! What the bloody hell are you on?'
'Oh, come on. You've got to admit my shirt looks… gorgeous on him.'
'Your shirt…? Your bloody shirt?'
'You didn't think he arrived looking like that? Oh no, that took the spilling of large amounts of Bloody Mary over the dull, untucked black thing he had on.'
'And he agreed to wear… that?'
'It was the only shirt I seemed to have in my closet….'
'What the fuck is going on here, Sam?'
'Oh, crisis, I feel sobriety creeping up on me. Gotta go and sniff something.'
Spike tried to catch his arm, but lost him in the crowd.
He looked over to the corner where Angel was listening to a young man, who was talking in an extremely animated manner to him. Spike recognised him and frowned as memory clicked around the backroom of Babel. Then he sighed with relief: the boy from the coffee shop.
He went over and stood close to them.
Angel turned. Spike nodded.
An animated voice said, 'Hi there!'
Spike sighed and nodded at the excited young man, too. 'Grant.'
'Isn't this the coolest party?'
'Oh, yeah, I'm feeling so cool just being here.'
Another young man peeled off from the dancing and came to stand next to Angel. He put a hand lightly on his arm. 'Hi. You're new. I'm… not. I'm Alexander. Wanna dance?'
Angel's eyes widened fractionally, and he said haltingly, 'I'm not… I don't…. Not really.'
The young man sighed then drifted his hand across Angel's T-shirt. 'This is just fabulous on you…. I mean… shit, you work out!'
Suddenly, the man swore, and Spike apologised profusely, dabbing at the drink that had somehow got knocked. 'Sorry, Mate. Bloody careless. I'd get something on that, if I were you… pity to ruin your shirt.' He gave the man a helpful smile.
Alexander gave Angel a parting glance and drifted off to find some water.
Spike turned to Grant and said pointedly, 'You look like you need a drink.'
Grant grinned. 'Thanks. Beer.'
Spike's mouth fell open, but before he could vent his outrage, Grant grabbed Angel's arm and dragged him away, saying eagerly, 'Come on, I'll show you what I meant.'
Spike stamped his foot, and then ran his hand through his hair, hoping no one had noticed the petulant display. He pushed his way through the dancers and found the couple admiring a piece of artwork. Grant had his hand on Angel's arm and was pointing out things that he wanted Angel to see. 'It's the passion; do you see it?'
Angel nodded. 'You're very good. You have an eye. I'd love to see some more of your work.'
Before Grant could swallow this suggestion whole, Spike pushed between them, and said with an edge to his voice, 'So, not just a waiter in a third-rate coffee shop then, Mate?'
Angel frowned and said apologetically, looking at the boy, 'He's an artist, Spike. This is one of his.'
'Big red blotches?'
Angel was about to glare at him, but Sam suddenly appeared, dragging a man by the arm. 'Hey, Angel, I want you to meet Chris.'
Angel held out his hand, but instead of shaking it, Chris bent elaborately and touched it with his lips. 'I worship at the altar of your beauty.'
Sam laughed. 'Yeah - like - you wanna alter something of his. Angel, Chris is a photographer - to the stars, sorry, gotta always add that; this IS L.A. - and he wants to photograph you.'
'Me? I mean, why?'
Chris' eyes widened in disbelief, and he mimed looking at him through a lens. 'Colour me totally incredulous here, but did you just ask why I want you for my book?'
'"Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder." It's a study of male beauty.'
Sam laughed again and whispered conspiratorially, 'When they're… holding things. I mean, Tom Bianchi eat your heart out; this is gonna be hot. Ow! Spike! Watch those size elevens- delicate tootsies here.'
'Stop acting like a fucking prom queen, Sam!'
'This is my party; I'll be gay if I want to.'
Spike turned to the photographer. 'Angel doesn't pose.'
'And you are?'
Spike hesitated then said softly, 'I'm the guy who's gonna close your fucking shutters for good, Mate, if you don't fuck off.'
Angel stepped between them and smiled apologetically at the man. 'Sorry.' He mimed someone drinking heavily, and then turned back to Spike. 'Can we talk for a moment?'
Spike curled his lip and hissed, 'I thought you found my conversation boring….'
'Oh, you've gotten a lot more interesting since you became possessive, bitchy, and embarrassing.'
Chris gave Sam a theatrical wince and slid back to the dancers. Grant put a hand on Angel's arm. 'Don't ruin Sam's party. Please.'
Angel ran his fingers through his hair and turned to Sam. 'Sorry.'
'Oh, don't mind me. Wouldn't be a party without a boyfriend squabble.'
Angel turned slightly pale and walked stiffly away from them all. Grant turned to Spike. 'You're his…?'
Spike flicked his eyes across, and Grant swallowed, moving swiftly away.
Sam took a sip of his drink, also received a look, and so slid back to people who weren't thinking of killing him.
Angel chose a beer from the bar, then pouted and swapped it for a low-cal soda. He felt an arm around his waist and turned with a smile and an apology, to find a man staring at him frankly. 'Who are you going home with tonight?'
The man removed his arm but put one finger on Angel's chest. 'I've been watching you.'
'Why? What did I do?'
The man frowned, puzzled. 'You get that you are the most beautiful thing in this room- in L.A, I'm thinking?'
'So, I repeat: who are you going home with?'
'Me. Me is WHOM he's going home with.'
The man gave Spike the once over and then huffed. 'Nope- I'm not seeing it.'
Spike poked him in the chest. 'No, you're not. I am. Tonight. Angel! Home!'
Angel frowned for a moment and looked between them. For some reason, he took a long look at his can of sugarless soda, and then said in a low voice, 'So, I didn't catch your name….' He put an arm around the man's shoulder and wandered away with him.
For one brief second, Spike changed, but it was dark by the bar, and no one seemed to notice. He flicked his head and changed back, but it left his whole body charged: demon adrenalin pumping through his dead veins.
He glanced wildly at the door, needing to escape, but then took a breath, shook out his shoulders, and began to stalk Angel: staying in the shadows and corners of the room, keeping out of sight, but always there, his gaze always on Angel.
Angel was passed between men, as Sam had said, like a great prize. They talked at him, flattered by his silent, thoughtful listening. They touched him, turned on by his hard, lean body. They stared at him, entranced by his beauty. Gradually, Angel straightened his shoulders when he talked with someone. After a while, he laughed, his whole face softening and relaxing into the expression. As the night wore on, he touched people- just a hand on an arm, or a playful punch.
Spike watched all this from the shadows, and he changed as Angel changed. Jealous fury as his possession was taken from him, gradually turned into something quite different and new. There was a roaring in his ears, like a great wind. This wind sucked the air from the room and left him panting for breath. His body felt stripped raw, exposed to the shadows that now burnt him with their intensity.
He was completely, totally, overwhelmed by the beautiful man that Angel had become, and he wanted that man- not the blood link, not his sire: Angel.
The party became louder, less organised. Angel actually glanced once or twice at the dance floor wistfully. Suddenly, he felt a presence at his side and sighed. 'I thought you'd gone home.'
'Nope. Still here.'
Angel pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. 'What do you want?'
'Do you want to dance?'
'Then will you come with me for a minute?'
Spike glanced around desperately. 'Outside- just for a moment….'
'Please, Angel. Please.'
Angel blinked then nodded. 'Make it quick.' He pushed through the crowd, smiling now at people he recognised.
He remembered getting out into the dim hallway, and then he was seized and flattened against the wall. A mouth, so urgent it bruised him, crushed to his. Desperate moaning made him open his mouth slightly. His tongue was sought, and with a deep, satisfied groan, Spike lifted his leg and ground them together as they kissed.
It felt so good.
Angel suddenly wanted Spike's hands on him. He made a small sound in his throat and pulled them closer, bumping his hips up to Spike's swelling. He ran his hands over Spike's back urgently, tearing the material of his T-shirt up, needing to feel skin.
Spike slid his hands up inside Sam's electric-blue T-shirt and rubbed his palms over Angel's nipples. He dragged them down and around Angel's rock-hard abs, feeling over his body, his eyes dilating, his tongue still entwining with Angel's.
Angel felt the power of his human body. He felt the blood pumping through his veins, heard the thump of his heart again, and it turned him on- memories of its red passion flaming his desire. He felt beautiful and hot, and he wanted to share this with Spike. His hands fumbled urgently with Spike's zipper. Into the kiss, he mouthed, 'I want you inside me.'
Spike pulled away and hissed, 'Are you sure you're ready?'
Angel pulled him back and turned them, crushing Spike against the wall. 'It's where we went wrong, Spike. We should have done it as soon as I was back.'
'Before the apple?'
Angel chuckled. 'Christ, but I've missed you.'
Angel was busy kissing along Spike's cheekbone to his ear and only murmured, 'Hmm?'
'I adore you. You do know that, don't you?'
Angel stood back and blinked. His face scrunched up slightly, and he pressed it to Spike's shoulder. 'I hate it when we argue.'
Spike chuckled and ran his fingers through Angel's hair. 'We'll make this work, Pet. We tried too much too soon.'
'The apple! See!'
'Come on, Pillock. Let's go home. I'm gonna lie you down, and we're gonna make love. I want to come inside you.'
Spike felt a shiver run through Angel's body, and he moaned as Angel returned to his mouth urgently. Angel slid his hands down inside Spike's jeans and cupped his backside. 'Don't ever stop talking to me, Spike.'
'Because… I want it… whatever you say. Even if I don't… like it.'
'Can I tell you that you are beautiful?'
'Oh, yeah. I guess….'
'Can I tell you that you are my life?'
Angel smiled softly. 'It's just as well I have enough for both of us.'
'Then let's go home, and we'll explore our compatibility.'
Angel slid his arm around Spike's waist, and they walked together through the L.A. night.
'Nice shirt, by the way.'
'Sam doesn't have many clothes. Weird- I kinda thought he'd have more.'
Spike gave him a look then rested his head against him fondly. 'You should wear bright more. Tight and bright.'
'Uh huh. Maybe I should do that book thing….'
'If you wanna have something to hold when you get old, I'd recommend… not.'
'You could come and watch.'
'Or watch and come….'
Angel chuckled and pulled him closer.
The agency was quiet when they got home, and they rode up in the elevator, kissing softly. When the doors slid open, Spike patted Angel on the backside and murmured, 'Take the fur-ball out, Luv. I've got things to… get ready.'
Angel frowned and opened his mouth to demur, but Spike laid a finger on his lips. 'Trust me.'
Angel swept the puppy up and took him back down to the street. He walked with him across to one of the small, private gardens, and sat in the moonlight, watching him. He couldn't believe how big he was getting and smiled when the dog was easily able to put his full weight on the now, very grubby cast.
Angel tipped his head back and tried to see the stars. He still loved the night best, still imagined it embracing him. He frowned slightly as he listened for the sounds of the night that he could no longer hear. Something rose up inside him, but he pressed it down before it could form into coherent thought. He was back. That was all that mattered.
When the doors slid open to the apartment, Angel's heart missed a beat. Once more, Spike had filled it with the soft light of candles: dozens of them, surrounding the bed. Pain-filled memories flooded him: whipping; wax; hard, vicious sex. He scrunched his face up and went to the kitchen, drinking urgently from a bottle of chilled water. Spike came out of the bathroom, freshly showered, wearing nothing but a towel. He came seductively toward Angel, but stopped when he saw his expression. 'Hey, Luv, what's wrong?'
'I can't do this. Not now. I can't take the… pain.'
Spike looked around, surprised, and then said haltingly, 'No… I didn't mean…. I thought… it was just pretty.' He gritted his teeth and said in a very quiet voice, 'Ithoughtitlookedromantic.'
'Huh?' Angel came closer, catching him under the chin and making him look up. 'What?'
'I thought it looked romantic….'
Angel snagged Spike into his shoulder and ran his fingers through the short blond hair. 'It does. Thank you.'
Spike pulled away and caught at Angel's hand, leading him toward the bed. 'I've not given you anything to thank me for… yet.'
They stood alongside the bed, and Spike made Angel raise his arms. Very slowly, he peeled off Sam's shirt and let it fall to the floor. He pressed his palms against the hard abs in wonder, Angel chuckling in pleasure at the genuine delight in Spike's face. He stretched his arms over his head once more, only flattening them more, and murmured, 'I need to shower.'
Spike shook his head. 'No way. You're… edible.' Angel gave him a small look, and Spike added quickly, 'You got that I didn't mean… literally?'
Angel nodded, glancing down to where Spike had begun on his zipper. The touch of Spike's fingers against his sensitive bulge made him wince with delight and double over slightly at the waist. Spike ignored him and lowered the pants, forcing him to step out of them. Dressed only in silk boxers, Angel's honey-brown skin glowed with life in the muted candlelight. They stood, separated only by silk and towelling, their penises swelling and lifting to seek the other out.
Angel bent to kiss Spike and parted the folds of his towel, revealing the rising shaft beneath. It stuck out, curtained on both sides by the dark towelling. With a small moan, Angel stepped closer and let the tip rub against his silk-clad bulge. With a small groan of need, Spike slipped his hand into Angel's fly and freed his erection too.
The need almost drove them wild. They kissed urgently, hands roaming over wet cocks: sometimes their own; sometimes the other's; sometimes both, as the rigid shafts were gripped in strong fists and worked together.
Spike lowered Angel onto his back on the bed and said huskily, 'Turn over.'
Angel shook his head slightly and pulled Spike's towel off fully. 'Like this. I want to… see your face.'
Spike looked down, shyly, but nodded. He slid further down the bed and took Angel into his mouth, sucking him gently, just getting him ready. He licked down the thick vein on the underside, reaching the soft sac. When he sucked on it, the balls ground together slightly, and Angel arched his hips, chuckling in delight.
Spike grinned and lowered his face some more. Angel caught at his head and lifted him back up. He glanced away, and then said in a low voice, 'Don't, please.'
Spike frowned then whispered, 'I want to taste you. Inside.'
Angel shook his head, and because Spike felt the body beneath him tensing, he let the request drop and took the warm shaft back into his mouth instead.
Angel relaxed once more and let the pleasure of the sucking overtake him.
Spike eased Angel's legs apart and slid a finger up the inside of his thighs, toward the enticing hole. He stroked around it for a while as he kept up the work on Angel's erection. Angel tensed slightly every time Spike got near his entrance, and when Spike finally inserted the tip of one finger, he half sat up and cried out.
Spike capitalised on his advantage and pushed Angel's thighs apart more. He wriggled his finger for a while until he heard a familiar moan of pleasure, and then he bent his face once more.
Once again, Angel lifted him up, his face a deep crimson. 'Please- don't….'
Spike nodded. 'Okay, Luv. Whatever you say. This okay?' He took hold of his cock and rubbed the soft, leaking head gently over the waiting hole. Angel arched again, and Spike took this as all the permission he needed. Very gently, he began to push in. Angel cried out and rose up at the waist, holding tightly to Spike's hair. Spike paused and gave him time to adjust, and when he saw Angel's face relax, he pushed again.
When he was in deeply, when Angel was stretched and tense beneath him, Spike rose over the sleek, beautiful body, and began to make slow love to him. He eased in with a slow, exquisite pace, and then withdrew equally slowly, until Angel's flesh released its prisoner and closed. Then he pushed in again and again, until Angel cried out with the intensity of the sensations racking his body.
Spike controlled his orgasm, pacing himself, sensing every quiver of Angel's body. He held back with every ounce of restraint he possessed. He treated Angel's body as gently as he could, ignoring the intense desire to thrust and pound and bring himself off.
Long before he was ready, he felt Angel's orgasm starting. It tightened the channel and quivered through the soft walls, tickling his cock slightly. He cried out but continued to ride gently in and out, but Angel stopped him, holding onto his arms, sitting up and wincing as his sensitivity turned to pain.
Spike pulled out and hung his head for a moment, the need to come still driving him to find release. He grinned slyly and crawled up Angel's body, lifting Angel's head and running the tip of his cock over the soft lips.
Angel suddenly flipped him off and rolled away, rubbing his mouth into the sheets. Spike put a hand out to his back and stroked it lightly.
Angel turned back and pulled him down for a kiss.
Spike began to kiss back, urgently, and guided Angel's hand to his cock.
Angel ran his hands up and down a few times, and Spike edged up once more and whispered, 'Suck me, Luv. Please.'
Angel moved away again and sat up, running his fingers through his hair. Suddenly, he hung his head and pinched the bridge of his nose wearily. 'I'm sorry. I'm just… tired.'
'Okay. That's okay. Come on; lie down.' Spike eased him down and put his head gently on Angel's chest. Angel began to twist and tangle Spike's hair into little peaks.
'I'm sorry. Things are just so different in here.'
'Don't you remember at all what it felt like?'
'Well, I remember some things, but I never did this, did I?'
'My little blond virgin.'
'I'm thinking that's a topic we really don't want to pursue at the moment.'
'No. Sorry. Don't you remember feeling… ill?'
'I've made you feel ill?'
'No. I didn't mean that. I just meant… do you remember how vulnerable you felt? Germs? Sickness? Death?'
'I guess. I remember eating something once that nearly killed me and then being bled, which pretty well finished me off.'
It went very quiet for a while as they both pondered this.
'Am I gay?'
Spike sat up, his eyes widening. 'What and where did that come from?'
Angel frowned deeply. 'I didn't think about it when I was… a vampire. It didn't seem to count…. But if I… being human now….'
'Would it bother you if you were?'
'It's not that. It's just… maybe… I'm not.'
'I'm really not following you here.'
'Maybe I'm not enjoying it so much because I'm not gay. Maybe human me doesn't want to sleep with men.'
'Uh huh. I'm not sure what to get bloody mad about first here. Oh, yeah, I do- you're not enjoying it?'
'I said not as much. I am enjoying it, but not like I did- not as much as you do. Do you want me to pretend and lie to you?'
'Well, yeah!' Spike suddenly tipped his head to one side and added swiftly, 'No. I don't. Can't think of anything worse than that.'
'Okay. I think it's important not to do that too.'
'Maybe you're enjoying it as much as you ever will enjoy any sex. I mean- it might be just the contrast.'
'You mean this is all any humans feel? With men or women?'
'Can't you kinda… ask someone?'
'Oh, yeah, like I'm gonna do that.'
'Just go to sleep, Angel. All this is very new, yeah? In a few… years… you'll forget what you once felt about anything.'
Angel did as he was bid and lay down, but Spike could see from his expression that his words had had the opposite effect to the one he'd intended. He sensed Angel lying awake next to him, felt his anxiety.
Suddenly, he turned and took Angel in his arms, reaching down to find his soft cock. With the gentlest of touches, he began to stroke and play with it in his cool fist. He leant into Angel's ear and murmured, 'Is that better? Does that feel nice?'
Angel snuggled closer. 'Mmm. That's…. Ahh….'
Spike smiled as he felt the slight stiffening. 'Yeah, that feels good to me, too. You feel good, Angel. You're so warm. I can hear your heartbeat; did you know that? It turns me on so much. I imagine your blood pumping to your cock, making you hard… yeah, just like that. Hmm, let's see what you do like now, shall we?' He slid down and took one nipple in his blunt teeth and teased just enough to raise it to a peak. Angel laughed and held his head, moving it over to the other nipple, clearly enjoying the sensation. Spike kept up his soft working of Angel's cock, now almost hard in his hand. He moved down further and played with Angel's belly button, but got no response there. He knew what Angel really wanted. He opened his mouth as wide as he could and took Angel's cockhead to the back of his throat. Angel cried out and began to raise and lower his hips. Spike smiled around the cock, running his stretched lips up and down the hot skin.
All too soon, Angel came, but he did it with a shout of pleasure, humping his hips into Spike's face, pulling on his hair.
When he'd swallowed the small shot, Spike crawled back up and murmured into Angel's ear, 'Not gay then, Pet?'
Angel slapped him, and Spike laughed into his neck, desperately hoping that Angel might offer to feed him again.
Suppressing his sigh, Spike said huskily, 'Angel… turn over…? I need…. Just to look at you… please.'
He took his aching, unrelieved cock in his hand, and when Angel saw this, he turned over, spreading his superb, warm body over the sheets. Spike ran his free hand over Angel's skin as he wanked. He pictured entering Angel, and it made him swell. He thought about thumping into him, and he cried out as he came close. As he spilled over Angel's back, in his mind, he was deep inside his body. He took a while to come down, but when he did, he murmured his thanks softly to Angel, but then opened his eyes to find that Angel had already fallen asleep.
He pulled him into his arms and covered him, protecting him- he was so precious.
He concentrated on how much he loved him and not on the fact that he'd just got off by fucking Angel's demon body in his mind.
to chapter 5
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