'He's back.' Xander flung himself onto the couch next to Buffy, who frowned severely and held her nail polish bottle tightly.
'Uh huh. And… I'm thinking still crazy?'
'Dunno.' Buffy concentrated on placing the pearl-pink liquid carefully over her perfect thumbnail. 'He wouldn't talk to me.'
'And the why to that?'
'He said he was a bad man and wasn't allowed to.'
Xander nodded. 'Weird about the choice of hole-up, too. I mean… glad he's out of the school an' all. But odd to choose a collapsed building, ya know? Streaks of light pouring in from all angles? Kinda looked like a troll hammer had been taken to it.'
Buffy paused momentarily then went back to her delicate job. 'Yeah.'
'So… you think crazy?'
'I don't know, Xan. I'm not sure I can tell with him anymore. He was hiding something from me, behind his back. I didn't… go look. Maybe. Yeah.'
Xander didn't hear a "Who cares?" but he felt she'd said it anyway.
He went home and gave Spike no more thought until, at a slight knock that evening, he opened his door to find the vampire standing there.
'No way. No, to the crazy vampire. Go 'way.'
'Do you eat?'
'What? Stop the crazies, Spike. And keep your clothes on.'
Spike smiled slightly. 'Do you eat, cus I've something that needs feeding. He won't eat rats.' Spike reached around the corner and fetched the puppy into view.
'Okay, thinking the not eating of rats makes that a pretty sensible dog, Spike. What's his name?'
Spike frowned. 'He doesn't have one.'
'You've gotta name him!'
'Why? Don't matter what names you give things; they shift and change inside all the time.'
'Deep joy, the crazy is back.'
'Nah. I just need some food for him. I thought food, I thought… you.'
'Hey! And I don't have any dog food!'
'He's not fussy. So, you gonna invite me in?'
Xander hesitated but not for all that long, then he nodded and stood to one side. 'Yeah. You'd don't need a hall pass here, Spike. Come in.'
Spike breathed out deeply and stepped in.
As Xander and the dog rummaged in the fridge, arguing about what was to be selected, Spike wandered over to the window then back, then began to pace randomly, as if staying still was difficult.
'So, you all… cured?'
'You forgiven, or whatever you wanted to be with that…. soul thing.'
Spike looked at him and began to laugh. 'Nah. Not forgiven. I got revenge, mate, much more….' He faltered and swallowed. He dipped his head. To Xander's surprise, Spike dashed a hand over his eyes and rushed out of the apartment.
He watched him go with a handful of chicken held loosely toward the dog. The starving puppy ignored it and began to whine pitifully at the door. Xander grimaced and picked him up, following Spike into the street. He was standing in the shelter of the apartment block with his face in his hands. When he sensed he had company, he turned away then gradually lowered his hands. Without turning around, he said very quietly, 'Did he feed?'
'Err… no, but I brought it. You can give….'
'K. Just give it me.'
'Don't. Just don't.'
Spike ran off, but as he had to wait for his slower companion, this desperate flight did not take him as far and as fast as he could have wished.
He crouched in the corner of the basement. The ragged, south-facing gap in the wall let the sun through in a large, wide streak from floor to ceiling from early morning until just before sunset. The light effectively divided the room into two shadowed areas, half away from the door, where Spike huddled all day a voluntary prisoner, and half by the door, which he did not need to use, the gap providing him physical escape, at least, when he needed it.
He heard the door open and close but did not move. The dog gave a small bark, however, and left Spike's side, an event unusual enough to make Spike look up.
Angel crouched on the other side of the barrier of light and pulled gently on the puppy's ears. 'Hi ya. How ya been?'
'He can't talk, Angel. He's just a dog.'
'He says what he needs to.'
They just stared at each other across the barrier. 'So, you got free.'
Angel tested a finger to the shaft of light, watching it smoke, apparently ignoring Spike's stating of the obvious, but then said quietly, 'No. I'm still chained. It's why I came.'
Suddenly, without warning, Spike put his face into his hands and in a low, shaky voice cried, 'Oh, God! I'm so unhappy.' Deep sobs rent the air, and Angel rose to his feet.
'No! Don't, Spike, don't. Fucking sunlight!' He put a tentative foot into the light as if to attempt a crossing.
Spike flung up and came to the other side of the invisible barrier that so effectively divided them. 'No! You'll… don't.' Tears ran unchecked down his face.
Angel gave him a look then said, 'I'm stretching a hand across to you, Spike. In my mind, I'm holding you now.'
Spike began to cry again and did not bother to hide it at all. Angel cursed and looked up at the gap in the wall. 'How much longer? Don't you have a blanket?'
Spike shook his head. 'I wanted to be trapped.'
'Jeez.' Angel took off his shoe and threw it to the edge of the light. 'Least I can measure its passing.'
Spike's eyes widened, causing more tears to run glistening down his cheeks. He stripped off his T-shirt and threw that alongside Angel's shoe. Angel hesitated then threw his other shoe. In a rush of tearing and ripping, they shed their clothing, casting each item as a small marker around the pool of light. Naked, in the shadows, they watched each other.
'I have something for you.'
'No.' Spike turned his head away and held a hand over his eyes. 'Who are you? What are you that you can come here like this and still talk to me? Jesus, Angel? What are you?'
Angel ignored him and knelt to his coat. He pulled a piece of paper out of the inner pocket and, folding it intently, he threw it as a dart across to Spike. 'I am exactly what I was when you left me in LA, Spike.'
Spike would have refused to pick up the paper and look at it. He feared too much what it might contain, but the puppy, not fully getting the intense moment, leapt on it happily when it landed. Spike's intention not to look at it hadn't extended as far as having it destroyed completely, so he pulled it free and held it in his hand. He knew what it was and looked with a sense of inevitability at the smoothed portrait he had so effectively finished for Angel.
He pouted. 'I don't wanna ask, but I'm going to…. Where's me bleedin' nose?'
Angel smiled. 'I thought you might tell me, because I think you cut it off somewhere in LA to spite absolutely no one but yourself.'
Spike pouted for a moment then flashed a tiny look at Angel before lowering his eyes once more. 'Meaning…?'
Angel chuckled. 'Meaning, that for the last few weeks you got from me what you've always wanted; what you died wanting; what your soul wanted with its last fleeting spark before I extinguished it for you; what you wanted without your soul, but I would not give you; what you wanted from me when I became soulled but would not ask for and, inevitably, what you wanted when you sparked back to this strange definition of life that we both now share. You got my love, Spike. Nothing more, nothing less. But when I finally gave it to you, when you finally had exactly what you had wanted for nearly two centuries, you threw it away because you had decided that revenge was more to your liking. So. No nose. You cut it off the minute this plan occurred to you. Do you feel better now? Can you move on? Was it worth it?'
Spike let the picture drop. He turned away. He began to pace naked through the gloom of his small prison. As if not really talking to Angel, Spike began to mutter in a fast staccato of words. 'All the time, see? It was so hard. So fucking hard to pretend that I loved you - just flat like that. Watching you loving me - when I did - see? For real. But my real love ain't like the milksop I showed you - that insipid excuse for love. I wanted to smash the pretence - take you - show you real love. Every time you looked at me, and I smiled back - such pain that I couldn't really smile - couldn't really show you how hot I burn for you. My soul is infused with you. I think it did go away somewhere, see? And you fermented in it for a hundred and fifty years - now I'm drunk with you - dizzy for you. I'm insane, and you're the madness and the cure.' He turned pleading eyes to Angel. 'Make the sun go down. Please.'
'We have eternity before us, Spike, if we can wait now.' As good as his word, Angel crouched back down and nodded at the clothes. 'Look. Not long now.'
Spike couldn't be so calm and continued to pace. The puppy just lay right in the middle of the sunlight, basking, wondering what all the fuss was about.
Angel took a risk a good half hour before he should have, but his furious leap ensured only a slight singeing and that was soon eased by the coolness that welcomed him on the other side.
They kissed so hard, Spike had the distinct thought that their souls were pressing together. As it was, his lip split to the power of Angel's mouth on him, and he offered the small blood sacrifice to his sire. Understanding the significance of the small gesture, Angel held his childe's head and murmured, 'Soul and demon, Spike, man and sire, Liam, Angelus, Angel and whoever I will become under your influence, they are all yours.'
Spike put his forehead to Angel's shoulder and one huge shudder passed through him. Angel fastened his hands together in the small of Spike's back, pulling them closer and began to sway slightly, just offering comfort. When he felt it was right, he said quietly, 'Have you forgiven me now? It's easier, I think, when you have had revenge.'
Spike jerked his head back. 'No, you have to forgive me! Angel! I need your forgiveness.'
Angel bowed his head and suddenly, roles reversed, Spike held the dark hair and forced Angel to look at him. 'What? Shit, Angel! You have to say you have!'
'If I have, will you be able to move on?'
'What? Move on where? You're not gonna talk about a fucking journey again, are you?'
Angel smiled sadly. 'I had to find you, Spike. I had to ask someone where you were.'
'Yes. Buffy. She told me you were here and… possibly why.'
'What's that got to do with us now? Angel?'
'Spike.' Angel suddenly gritted his teeth and took Spike by the shoulders, shaking him slightly at each word. 'You - got - that - soul - for - her.'
'No-o. Yes… all right. I did.'
'So she would want you. Forgive you.'
'So, now she can. Now you can move on - to her.'
'My soul doesn't want her.'
Angel held on tighter. 'Spike. Don't be hasty….'
Spike's eyes widened. 'Hasty? Hasty! From London to here, across two centuries and you call me hasty! Angel, I need your forgiveness so I can move on, but only to you. Back to you. Full circle. From the beginning to the end, which might have been the beginning.'
'Then I give it to you. Freely. I already had, Spike, as I lay chained. And hungry. Oh, and erect.'
Spike gave a small chuckle, and Angel did not think he had ever heard such a welcome sound. 'How did you get free?'
'Cordelia came stomping in about three days after you'd gone. She was mumbling about getting a… stair lift. Not for long, of course.'
Spike's eyes widened. 'Had you… subsided at all?'
'Rather the opposite. I'd been thinking about you for three days. Suffice to say, whatever you said to Cordelia, I have a feeling she's glad she made the choice she did.'
'Huh.' Spike pouted a little, and Angel wanted to take that lip and suck it slowly back into shape. 'Fred?'
'Did you see love running down the walls of my home when you were mad? I think if you did, then it was her love for Gunn running purple on those old walls. She told him. They came back together. All then got… explained.'
'Thinking I'm not gonna be too welcome….'
'Probably not. But they want the dog, and I guess you two come as a package now. But Spike, what are we doing? I'm this side now. We are both naked, and….'
'There's something I need for you to do first.'
Angel pulled away, half laughing, half incredulous. 'You are joking.'
Spike gritted his teeth. 'Will you never believe me again, Angel, because I tricked you? Is this your forgiveness, so grudgingly given?'
'No! Don't accuse me of that, Spike. What then? Anything. What do you want from me?'
Spike told him.
Angel backed away, tripping over the puppy, which squealed a little. Angel felt like squealing himself. Instead, he said, 'No,' and swallowed hard.
Spike pouted. 'I'm not sure I want to go through this life without you now.'
Angel captured him once more. 'You don't have to! God, Spike! Don't force this condition. I won't do it.'
Spike shrugged him off. 'Tell Cordy and Fred I'm sorry.'
'Tell 'em the dog says hi.'
Spike bent to his clothes.
He began to dress.
'I hate you.'
Spike bent to pick up the dog.
'You are going to suffer for this.'
Spike turned with a grin. 'It'll be worth it.'
Angel stomped his foot, dressed, and with a surprise two-fingered salute he had learnt from Spike, he stormed out of the basement.
Angel knocked on the innocuous door. She opened it and, although startled, covered well. She leant in the doorway and eyed him up and down with a small, satisfied smile. She allowed the towel that she held over her shower-wet body to slip slightly, and with a small toss of her hair, she knew she was irresistible.
'Stop pissing around Lilah and get him.'
'Who is it?'
'Angel?' Wesley came to the door slightly behind Lilah, also wet, also wearing nothing but a towel. 'You're not welcome here.'
Wesley looked at Angel for a long time then said with no inflection in his voice. 'Go away.' Lilah smirked. 'Not him. You.' He turned, grabbed an armful of clothes, gave her prod in the small of her back sending her into the hallway and chucked her clothes after her. He nodded at Angel and stood back for him to enter. Without a backward glance at the woman, he shut door.
Angel turned and faced him. 'She's a bad choice for an enemy, Wesley.'
'You were worse.'
Angel swallowed and suddenly could not say the things he had prepared in the car. 'I've come to….' He looked down and pouted, felt he was learning too much from Spike too quickly and turned it into a less seductive look.
As if Angel's thoughts conjured him between them, Wesley said, 'How is Spike?'
Angel looked up, and his expression seemed to answer Wesley's question, for the human turned away for a moment and nodded. 'I was afraid he would….'
'Why the dog?'
Wesley looked down for moment, smiling. 'I felt… he needed someone to love. Love needs something to grow from, Angel, a seed.'
'You know why I'm here. Are you going to deny me forgiveness, Wes? Can you be so wise and yet begrudge me that?'
'You banished me as if to hell, Angel.'
Angel nodded slightly at the door. 'I may have sent you to hell, but I didn't ask you to fuck the devil.'
'Hell was lonely, Angel. I missed you.' Wesley's startling confession hung in the air between them for a moment, and he added softy, 'You are a very hard act to follow, Angel, for anything… friendship… love, I would imagine. Why are you here? The truth.'
'Spike said I had to.' Wesley looked at him incredulously. He began to chuckle. His towel slipped a little, and he snatched it to him in such an old-Wesley manner that Angel began to chuckle, too. He held out a hand, Wesley came forward, and Angel just laid it against the stubble of the dark cheek. He cupped his other hand behind Wesley's neck, and they placed their foreheads together for a moment. Angel pulled away, but as he did, he placed a light kiss on Wesley's cheek. 'I'm sorry.'
Wesley nodded; close as they were, he did not need to raise his voice more than a whisper. 'I did what I thought was right for you, Angel. But I was wrong to decide for you; I should have trusted you more, and if I have been in hell, it's been because in my heart I knew I was wrong.'
'Jeez, Wes, you could'a saved me the apology.'
Wesley gave a small, pleased huff then turned to put the kettle on. As it was boiling, he turned and looked at Angel over his shoulder. 'If I had saved you the apology, you wouldn't get what I suspect you're going to get tonight.'
Angel almost blushed, and he looked anywhere but at Wesley. The human chuckled. 'If I wasn't still recovering from the devil's touch, and off sex entirely I think for a while, I'd almost say I was jealous.'
As Angel watched Wesley making their tea, he could not quite decide whether Wesley had meant jealous of Spike, or of him, and chuckled over the thought of relating this small gem to Spike. Angel glanced at the clock, wondering how long it would take him to get back to Sunnydale. 'You can go, Angel. Friends don't need politeness to oil the wheels of their friendship. Go. I'll see you tomorrow… at work.'
He didn't turn, but he felt strong arms encircle him for a moment and a light kiss pressed into his wet hair. 'Spike told me to say that the currents were strong, but that he has rowed as best he could. He made more sense to me when he was crazy.'
Angel then turned swiftly away, not sure he could last until he got back to Spike. He pulled the door open, desperately hoping a scorned female was not waiting for him with a stake. Instead, a blond vampire leant casually on the wall, leg bent up, smoking. His inevitable shadow sat quietly at his feet. 'Hi ya.'
'It feels good to forgive, doesn't it Angel?'
Suddenly, shockingly, Angel grabbed him and began to dance him wildly down the corridor. Spike lost his cigarette and shouted in annoyance, and at his shout the puppy began to attack Angel's leg. Angel shook him off but, at a warning look from Spike, bent to the dog and swept him up instead. 'Can I name him?'
'Can I name your dog, Spike? Now we're….' He raised his eyebrow suggestively.
Spike pouted. 'Okay. But not something daft. There's a knack to naming dogs.'
'You've gotta picture yourself in a real public place - park or something - and then picture yourself standing there shouting that bleedin' name at the top of your voice. So….'
Angel grinned. 'Shadow. I want to call him Shadow.'
Spike nodded and let a slow smile spread over his face. 'The naming of dogs. We've moved on, Angel.'
'We have. Can we move a bit faster?'
They did… until they got to the hotel. Then time slowed down and stayed at that slow dream-like pace for some days. Spike hardly looked at the humans in the lobby; his eyes were all for Angel, but he held out the puppy. 'This is Shadow. I'm sorry. And can one of you look after him for a few days?'
Angel looked at the three humans. 'Wesley is coming back to work tomorrow.' He waited for the noise to die, and then said, 'Make him welcome; find something to ease him back in. Watch out for him. He has made a powerful enemy tonight for me. I will see you all in a few days.'
Gunn frowned. 'Where you both goin'?'
Angel moved over to Spike and ran a finger down Spike's cheekbone. 'We have a very long journey to make, but this time, we're taking it together.' He turned and looked each one of his friends in the eye. When none of them dropped his gaze or even blushed at his hand still on Spike, he nodded and smiled.
Spike took hold of the hand and, unashamed, brought it to his lips. 'Wesley was right, you do choose your friends well.'
He turned away and began to climb the stairs. Angel followed the slim figure. When they got into Angel's bedroom, Spike looked with detachment at the bloodstained sheets. He'd been forgiven, and Angel's forgiveness armoured them both against such things. Angel swept the manacles that he had struggled so painfully to free himself from and the memories away with one powerful sweep of his arm. 'Come to me.'
Spike stepped into Angel's embrace. Angel twisted his hands into Spike's hair. 'I need you. Will you indulge me?'
'Yes.' Spike began to unbutton Angel's shirt. Their heads tipped in tandem to watch the slow, languid movements, each tiny unbuttoning brushing the tips of Spike's fingers erotically over the skin of Angel's chest. He lifted his hands and slipped the warm silk from the cooler silk beneath it, and ran his hands lovingly over that human silkiness. Angel caught at Spike's fingers and brought them up, one at a time, to his mouth. He sucked slightly at their tips then gave them back for Spike to run the dampness in little drying trails over his sensitive body.
Spike put his hands to Angel's belt and unbuckled it. The sound of the leather and metal made them hiss slightly as demons stirred under this intensely human moment. He took hold of the tiny piece of zipper that would enable him to free the pulsing flesh he felt beneath, but fell to his knees and pressed his face there, savouring for a moment the anticipation of that release. Still on his knees, he eased Angel down, and at each notch in the zip, Angel pulled and twisted Spike's hair, an erotic encouragement to this slow revealing. At last, Angel stood free and proud, a hard, silk-encased column that rose from a dense, musky forest of escaping curl. Spike inhaled deeply then leant forward and touched the tip of his cool nose to the underside of the quivering shaft. Angel twitched lightly at his head, pressing him in harder, groaning and spreading his legs as far as his half-mast pants would allow.
From the root of the hard erection up to the soft ending of foreskin, Spike ran his tongue lightly, following the line of the swollen vein. Angel gasped, and the sound was accompanied by a gushing of precum from the glistening tip. Spike made no sound, but his silence was loud in the quiet room, and Angel took his penis in one hand and rubbed it gently over Spike's cheekbone, transferring the cool, slick fluid. He began to run it from one cheek to the other, first over Spike's nose, but then dipping lower each run, until at last, the leaking tip was rubbed over Spike's closed lips. They both moaned, and after a few rubs, Angel felt the tip of Spike's tongue protruding: a small nub around which he could swirl, until the very centre of the tip settled into his welling hole.
Angel pushed slightly, Spike's mouth gave way, and Angel slid into welcoming warmth that made his knees shake with repressed desire to thrust and come. Instead of thrusting, he held back. He murmured encouragement and played light fingers over the back of Spike's neck. Spike tested the feel in his mouth, unaccustomed to such an unusual sensation. He pulled back a little so just the head lay between his lips then tasted the tip once more with his tongue, probing into the soft foreskin that still covered the head. He put his hands up to Angel's root, tugged gently then held the rolled foreskin tucked away behind the ridge with his lips. Exposed, raw, the head was now hot in Spike's mouth. He flicked his tongue around it; he eased his lips slowly forward and, as they slid down the silky column, the gush of cool fluid increased until it poured unchecked down his throat. He let it pour then swallowed reflexively. At the swallow, Angel gasped and began to shudder against Spike's face. The musky smell from the wiry curls overwhelmed Spike for a moment, and he pulled his face off the shaft and knelt with his forehead to the floor. Angel shed the rest of his clothes and knelt alongside him.
Spike rose up with a smile. 'Almost came there.'
Angel kissed him and pushed his tongue into Spike's mouth to taste what he had tasted. They kissed for a while, all the time, Angel's restless hands working at Spike's clothes, releasing the slim body from its confines.
He held onto Spike's shoulders when they were bare and pushed him over onto his back. He took a hard thigh in his hand and began to raise it. 'I am so sorry, Spike.' He gave a slightly rueful smile. 'If you had another hole - more pleasurable for you - then I'd use it.'
Spike nodded and closed his eyes as Angel began to push in. Angel could see the pain in Spike's face and almost stopped, but strong hands clamped around his waist and urged him on. He groaned in pleasure, and the additional rush of precum lubricated the last of his entry enough for Spike's ring to slick pleasurably over his whole shaft. He began to move gently in and out, not looking at Spike, well aware that the pleasure would be all his. Suddenly, he felt Spike tense. Angel winced. Spike tensed again and rose up in the middle with a huge gasp, his shoulders and heels pressing into the floor. He captured Angel's neck and just hung on, his eyes wide with astonishment. Spike began to moan and thrust up to meet Angel. Angel, embedded in this place that was so tight - the tightest a man could ever find to encase and pleasure him - and finding that his intense pleasure seemed to be shared, swelled inside Spike: a sudden rush of blood to his penis making him thick and long in the taut channel.
Spike brought his eyes back into focus and whispered raggedly, 'Harder.'
Angel lifted Spike's other thigh and pulled the hard backside up onto his lap for a moment. Then he spread Spike wide to each side and looked down. He looked back up. 'Jeez.'
Spike blinked and only said more forcibly, 'Harder.'
'I'm going to fill you, Spike.' He thrust in hard.
Spike gasped and flung his arms up, capturing one wrist in his other hand, digging nails painfully into pale flesh. 'I've been full of you for two hundred years, love.'
'Is this good?' Angel pulled out almost entirely then rushed fluidly back in.
Spike bit his lip and cried out. Angel flushed at the incoherent praise, but then closed his eyes and lost himself to the orgasm he should have had those long two hundred years ago.
He rode in and out of Spike for a very long time. Spike's rectum had become stretched and flooded with Angel's precum so every thrust was bliss, every withdrawal an agony of anticipation until he thrust back in, and all the time he knew that he was also giving intense pleasure to Spike.
When he felt himself beginning to build at last to the release he ached for, Angel opened his eyes and saw Spike's penis standing rigid, untouched, deep blood red and throbbing. He made to hold it for Spike, but at the first soft touch, it erupted and sent hard pellets of cum against his face. Spike arched, lifting Angel high, screaming. Angel flung his hand over Spike's mouth to quieten him somewhat and cried out with a deep demonic joy when sharp fangs descended and began to feed from his soft palm. Spike's cum ran off Angel's face and dripped down between them, and the air filled with its musky smell, subtly mingled now with this coppery, hot addition.
Angel sped up, his thrusting now desperate. He watched his demon childe sucking at his blood; he smelt the cum; he felt the pain, and he suddenly exploded into Spike. His balls shivered as they emptied; his shaft almost burst with the pressure of sperm forced through its tiny tube, and he howled as that pressure was released deep into Spike's rectum, over and over, a forceful, trembling relief.
Angel let Spike feed long after their orgasms ended. He lay on his childe, pinned him down with his weight while the tongue probed, the fangs opened the wound and the throat took the coppery elixir down in tiny, exquisite sips. Eventually, he sensed human teeth working him, and he twisted his head to look up at the blue eyes and smooth contours he had come to value more than he could express.
He smiled. 'Would you believe me if I told you that was the best orgasm I have ever had? And, as you know, I've had a few in my long, illustrious life.'
Spike raised an eyebrow. 'Yeah. I would.'
They smiled at each other, but then Angel frowned a little, too. 'So…. That was good for you? I don't really get it.'
'Why didn't she like it? Nah, I don't get it either. Wait 'til it's your turn.'
'Why wait?' Angel rose up and straddled Spike's waist. He felt behind him and smiled when his hand encountered a hard, swaying column. With a slow, seductive rise of his eyebrow, Angel lifted himself up then sank down onto the erection. So much cum and sweat between them now, he slid on easily, until he sat back where he had been, but now filled to his core with his childe's penis. He took a huge, very human breath then with head bowed, hands splayed on Spike's chest, he began to rise and lower himself in smooth, easy movements.
Spike smiled and waited. It didn't take long. At a small shift in his position, Angel's head flew back, his hands cramped on Spike's chest, and his nails clawed into the pale flesh, blood oozing where they had passed. He cried out one sharp cry of pleasure and repeated the movement again and again, up and down, until he had raked Spike's chest into a welter of blood. He looked down at the carnage, saw Spike's eyes dilated with pleasure and moaned when Spike rubbed the tip of his penis around for him in the fresh blood. Angel came first, the intense pleasure throughout his rectum bringing him off in a second angry outburst of sperm. Free this time, it shot straight out and into Spike's raised face, bouncing off his chin and down into the crimson pool, but Angel continued to work Spike's cock for him. He shifted to a crouch over the hard body and with his agile, powerful legs, managed to increase both the speed and depth of his impalement. More than that, he was able to rise until the tip threatened to escape from his tight ring at every lift, until Spike had to rear up to keep it embedded, and then Angel thundered back down and caught Spike still in the rise, so his penis seemed to stab Angel to his very core.
Spike didn't hold out long at this. Lifting his hands to hold Angel's arms tightly, he tried to hold him down and explained why by flooding him with cool release that trickled out around Spike's wiry curls, crystallising on them like tiny pearls.
Angel spread himself down onto the blood, cum and sweat, and wondered that he had lain only with women for so long. He ran a finger through the damage he had caused. 'Sorry.'
Spike replied softly. 'I needed some new scars there: better ones.'
They kissed gently, both tired emotionally and physically. Angel nodded at the bed and helped Spike to his feet. They stood looking at it for a while, and Spike said, slightly puzzled, 'How did I ever sleep alone? I can't imagine ever doing so again.'
They curled together in a tangle of tired male limbs and felt nerves still tingling and firing off with delayed pleasure from such intensity. Angel ran his hand up and down Spike's back in a repetitive movement that lulled them both to sleep, and the last thing Spike remembered before he tipped over the edge of that nameless place was a quiet voice asking him if, after all, his strange journey had been worthwhile.