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Demon Chemistry - 8

Angel rolled back to his resting position and returned to his contemplation of power.

He'd been riding his own demons for three days, and they played at his mind. He shut them away, for he wanted to concentrate on the inexorable progress that had brought him to be lying, leaking, on a mattress with his childe. He wanted to think about the first sight of Spike sitting in the bar, looking so… hard, so… mean, so … utterly fuckable. Angel smiled inwardly, remembering the reaction in his gut, in the base of his spine, in his balls, and in his mouth when he had seen… Spike. It was incredible. Just Spike… just Spike sitting there - same clothes, same hair, same attitude - but with the veil of the stranger in his eyes, Angel had seen someone quite different. He had seen someone he would have taken out, there and then, and fucked against a wall. He pursed his lips, imagining this.

It wasn't very him.

It was very Angelus.

He moved on and filed that disturbing thought away to brood on later. Spike had spoken first. It was hard to reply, given he'd wanted to kiss him and end the game. So what was it? He went over it again. Coming into the bar… loud music. Pushing through the crowd… too many people. There's Spike… Oh. Want him. Angel smiled openly this time at the playback. It had been as quick as that. See him: want him.

Angel folded his arms behind his head and moved on to their second meeting. He'd taken the lead. Incredible again! He'd actually… he winced at the memory. Had he really done anything as blatant as rubbing his foot into Spike's erection? He thought he'd been a bit drunk. God - Angelus excusing the first, alcohol the second. What excuse did he have for that kiss? In front of the pub, in full view of anyone passing, in his convertible… he'd kissed Spike. Suddenly, a memory struck him and he turned outraged eyes to Spike. 'What the fuck did you mean about my car?'

Spike blew him a kiss and continued smoking his cigarette complacently. Angel swore Spike was eyeing the small white stick for size as if making oblique reference to something else, but he wanted to return to his pleasant fantasies so ignored him.

He wanted to get to the best part. He wanted to think about his orgasm. He'd gone through it a number of times already, but he wanted to go through it one more time. An assisted orgasm: it was ... neat, and he wondered why more men didn't try it. William had been right: Spike pushed his button, and his bell had rung. The first time Spike's cockhead had hit that... no, go back a pace. Angel ran through the moment of penetration again. That was rapidly becoming his favourite memory, and he felt himself stir to the thought. He hadn't felt stretch there for centuries, and it had been such a shock, but quickly, the only shock had been the pleasure of gradually being filled and stretched to his limit. His anus began to throb at the memory, and he chuckled slightly.

Spike turned onto his stomach and looked lazily at him. 'Which bit you thinking about?'

Angel chuckled again. 'The going in.'

Spike grinned. 'Yeah, 's good that bit. What else?'

Angel turned, too, and kissed Spike, picturing their naked asses, lying side-by-side in the candlelight. It was a pleasant image, and he rocked into the mattress slightly to enjoy the swelling and tingling in his groin. 'The bell. I liked it when you rang my bell.'

Spike tipped his head back in amazement. 'You fucking remember that?''

Angel nodded. 'I remember everything. Some of it's confused, but I do remember.'

'Huh.' Spike gave him a cheeky look. 'Bet you wish you'd given it a go then, mate. Fuck - think how things could be different now.'

That effectively silenced them both for a while, pondering the imponderable.

Angel was the first to shake off the sense of wasted lives and began to run his hand over Spike's back in small circles. Spike laughed and sat up to light another cigarette. 'What do you want? As if I didn't know.'

Angel looked pleased. 'Then you'd be wrong, Spike. I want you to do it again.'

Spike choked slightly on his cigarette. 'Thought you'd be wanting me, mate. Fuck, you sure aren't Angelus, are you?'

Angel looked even more pleased. 'Come on, I want to try it again... now I know what to expect, now I can... relax more.'

Spike looked down at him and raised one eyebrow speculatively. 'Desperate and begging me for it already? Just like the green pixie saw. I'm chuffed.'

Angel ignored the taunt and reached up to throw the cigarette away. He provocatively got onto his hands and knees and eased his strong legs apart as far has they would go. Utterly unable to draw out the teasing any longer, Spike shifted around until he knelt up against Angel's hard backside. He teased with his cock instead, flicking it over Angel's slick hole, rubbing it over the puckered skin, causing delightful friction for both of them. He tickled his finger down Angel's crack to the anus, then up from his perineum - whether from top or bottom - not quite reaching the sensitive nerves around the sphincter muscles. Angel began to thrust back as if trying to force the penetration.

Spike laughed and pushed his penis in.

Angel pushed back.

Spike groaned deeply, and the dance began again.

This time, Angel took more control over the experience. He wriggled his backside from side-to-side and dipped and rose to make Spike penetrate every inch of his channel. Spike took hold of Angel's hips, digging his fingers into the hollows where they met his torso, holding on for the ride. When he felt Angel needed it, he pulled out and slammed in, hard. This made Angel beg for more, so Spike put a hand to the back of Angel's neck and thrust him further into the mattress, causing his ass to rise higher. There was nothing but deep penetration to be done. They both felt an aching need for it, and Spike punched into the receptive tissue with an abandon he had never, in all his penetrations, been able to achieve. He was humping the strongest, most resistant person he was ever likely to find and someone who begged for each thrust, who revelled in each heave, who literally panted for him and cried out his name with desire.

Spike wanted them to cum together and jerked out his desire to Angel between thrusts. Angel's staccato panting of his name turned into a short, breathless, 'Yes, yes, yes.'

Spike grimaced as the effort to cum, the riding himself to release, began again, and suddenly... there he was. Angel slipped into his mind as fully as Spike was in him. Angel saw through his eyes and felt what he felt. Angel saw a master vampire supine and being taken by his childe. He saw himself spread-eagled, his ass in the air. He saw Spike humping him, the hands and the cockstem just visible to Spike's eyes. He saw his own face twisted with the effort to reach orgasm, his hands disappearing under his body where he could feel what they were doing.

Angel saw himself powerless, being fucked by Spike, and he came, screaming to the power of the powerlessness.

Spike felt Angel's body shudder beneath him. He felt Angel's presence still in his mind, and he came for the two of them, sharing his orgasm with Angel as he was sharing his body. Angel felt the intense shock in the small of Spike's spine that signalled his imminent release. He felt Spike's balls swelling and marvelled at how intense this feeling was for his childe, almost more so than for him. Then he shared the orgasm; he travelled with Spike as Spike's mind and emotions coalesced on that one place, that one part of his body giving him pleasure. Angel felt Spike's cum soak into his own ass, and then the link between them broke, for it was too intense for them to share. Angel cried out in delight as the cum washed through him, Spike from the delight of another exquisite orgasm inside Angel.

They couldn't maintain the physical link either. Spike fell out; Angel collapsed, and Spike plummeted on top of him, squashing him to the mattress. They were both panting deeply. Angel tried to stop breathing but couldn't make the effort required: old habits die hard. Spike didn't bother. He liked breathing, and he let his cool breath play over Angel's sweating shoulders and back.

Angel drifted into sleep for a while, and Spike dozed, too. They woke; they fell asleep again. It was only when the batteries ran out in the CD player and the music stopped its continuous loop, that they both roused. Angel glanced at his watch. Spike watched him from his position on Angel's back. 'So you liked me present then, wanker?'

Angel laughed and rolled, tipping Spike off, and then pulled him into a tight spooning against his chest. 'Just tell me you didn't steal it from someone... tell me it was an anonymous retail outlet that has way too high a profit margin anyway.'

Spike was quiet for a moment. 'I swapped me bike for it.'

Angel sat up and looked at him. 'Oh, Spike, I wouldn't have asked you to do that.'

'Do you like the watch?'

As Angel was even then playing with it distractedly, Spike didn't really need the reply he got. 'You know I do; I love it.'

'Well, there ya go... only present I've ever given you, so I can do what I like.'

Angel nodded slowly. 'What will you do for wheels...?'

Spike chuckled. 'Poof. You angling for me to say I don't need any cus I ain't going anywhere.'

Angel smiled. 'Yes. So say it.'

'Angel. I'm not going anywhere. I don't need transport.'

Angel smiled. 'So... you took the job offer then?'

'Yep. Staff perks worked out just fine.'

'Oh really...' Angel began to push Spike back into the mattress; Spike began to laugh at the look on his face. 'You've not had the full package outlined to you yet.'

'Do I get an extra bonus then?'

Angel's finger slipped into Spike's hole. It was dry, so he took it out and ran it around in the sweat and the cum coating them both and then slipped it back in.

As his finger swirled gently around and over Spike's prostate gland, making Spike moan, Angel took his childe's mouth as his own. He kissed Spike more intensely and more passionately than they had done even as strangers. Amazed, they pulled apart fractionally. The realisation hit them at the same time that kissing as themselves was even more erotic than when they had denied their history. Angel leant in to try it again; Spike came back to meet him. They tried to climb into each other's bodies; Spike pulling desperately on Angel's hair; Angel pressuring Spike's neck as if he could eat that malleable mouth. Angel ended up sitting. He propelled Spike with force onto his lap. They blended into each other, Spike slipping down the rigidity of Angel's shaft: each inch drawn out and exquisite, each inch making him cry out, his neck stretched, his back arched, and his chest heaving. Finally, he reached rock bottom. Spike hung his head with the sheer delight of being filled by Angel. He had not realised how empty being dead was until this moment. Everything that had gone before - all his taking and breaking and victimising others - had only been to prove a newfound power that he saw now he had always had. He opened his eyes and stared directly at Angel. How had he thought for all those years that he had been powerless? He had been the focus and the obsession of this all-powerful creature. He cocked up one eyebrow; he pursed his lips, grinned… and then began to move.

Angel cried out and tipped his head back, his body supported on splayed hands, his legs stretched out. Spike went into an agile semi-crouch and began to raise and lower himself on his inexhaustible, supple legs. Angel tried to smile at the incredible position, but could only groan as it enabled Spike to ground himself down to the very root of Angel's cock and then raise himself up until the tip slipped out. He hovered under the waiting, throbbing entrance… and was then plunged back in.

Spike had ridden this cock for nearly twenty years, and he knew it intimately. He knew where the veins were thickest; he knew how far the foreskin would stretch; he knew how Angel liked the pause and thrust, pause and thrust, drawing out the pleasure and need. He could ride like this forever: every time he felt his orgasm drawing near, he slowed and avoided rubbing the hard cockhead over his sensitive gland. When the waves died sufficiently, he started again, faster, harder, more pressure to his prostate, and tipped his head back in pleasure at the immersion in orgasm this gave his entire body.

Spike was utterly unaware of time passing; he was blissful, his whole body drawing out a long, shuddering orgasm that he skated around the edges of - tantalizingly near, but never quite reaching. He dimly heard Angel beginning to moan almost in pain and smiled again at the realisation of his power. He just slowed down a bit more and teased the cockhead longer against his hole as he pulled off. He felt Angel's precum slicking against his hot anus; he teased some more, just bobbing against the tip, listening with rapt glee to Angel's begging and then gasp of shock as he plunged back on. He liked reaching the very base of Angel's cock, for he could wriggle on the stiff, wiry curls and feel them scratching against his smooth skin. He loved the sound that issued from Angel - a kind of half-strangled croak of pleasure/pain. Just as Angel got used to that, just as his cock settled into Spike's rectum for a long, blissful swell, he gleefully pulled off again and made the hot shaft sway slightly in the candlelight.

Finally, Spike felt his upper arms grabbed viciously, and Angel shoved him over onto his back, repositioning himself urgently and taking control of the fucking. Spike was furious and tried to sit up, but Angel's mouth came swiftly to his ear. 'Spike, open your eyes.'

Spike did and hissed. The candlelight was no longer visible. They were illuminated by the soft early morning rays of dawn. He looked at Angel. 'Fuck, no wonder your cock was beginning to feel hot!'

Angel gave a peel of laughter and thumped into Spike's incredibly slick, stretched hole. 'You've been riding me for hours, didn't you realise? We've got four minutes, thirty-eight seconds and counting, Spike. Think we can do it?'

'If you shut up, yeah.'

He was right. Silent, intent, thrusting, heaving, pulling, squeezing, grunting - they brought themselves off. The last drops of cum had hardly plopped out, the last twitches of their penises hardly stopped before they grabbed their clothes and piled, laughing manically, down the roof exit and onto the first floor of the old factory.

Spike had to sit down: his legs felt too wobbly to stand. This only made him laugh more at the ridiculous thought of being stiff in his legs from shagging Angel. He saw Angel looking at his watch and frowning. 'What's up, mate?'

'Seven hours and forty-five minutes, Spike. Where did nearly eight hours go? We've just shagged for eight hours.'

'Yep. Good, hey?'

Angel didn't reply. He was hopping around, unable to get his tight leather jeans back on over his sweaty, cum covered legs. He gave up and sat down disconsolately. 'I'll have to wait 'til I dry, I guess.'

'What d'ya wanna do to pass the time?'

Angel looked at Spike, and Spike looked thoughtfully back at him. They both said, 'Sleep?' at the same time and grinned.

A pile of old cardboard boxes made a good enough lair and they covered themselves from view, curling up tightly against each other.

Angel held Spike against his chest, stroking lazily through the spiky, sticky hair. 'Is this going to survive in the real world, Spike? When we go back tonight, will we survive?'

'I've got no transport, remember, it kinda has to. Good motivator that, luv, being stuck.'

'Can you work with us?'

Spike turned his head, disturbing the stroking. 'Who the bleedin' hell said anything about work?'

Angel frowned. 'I thought you were going to join the Agency?'

Spike grinned at the effortless way Angel always fell into his traps. 'I thought work meant you turn up in an office somewhere, do your own thing all day, have two hour lunch breaks and then go home complaining of a hard day.'

'No, that's just Cordelia.'

Spike raised his eyes wide, amused and surprised. 'Yeah, but she ain't getting the staff perks, I am. I feel committed to giving good service now.'

Angel smiled. 'You did, believe me, Spike; you did.'

Neither knew precisely when they fell asleep, nor who woke first. Both lay in the warmth and comfort of their small nest, feeling more like vampires than either of them had for a long time. Angel wasn't planning on giving up his emperor-sized bed with the extra thick mattress just yet, but nesting in the boxes with his childe had a sense of rightness he could not ignore… but there was something missing, and he lay for a long time wondering if Spike felt it, too.

When his childe turned his neck in sleepy, supine obedience to his sire, tears pricked Angel's eyes at the sense of completion to his life. He let his fangs emerge; he let his demon scent at the feeding zone and pick the spot; he let his cock close one hole as his mouth opened up another. Impaled and drained concurrently, Spike writhed to the vampire possessing him.

They both knew the outcome of this feeding; they both felt the blood link only growing between them, reaffirming the chemistry they had always had but had denied for so long. Angel pictured his fangs in Spike's pale throat, and the image gave him almost as much pleasure as picturing the tip of his cockhead deep inside the slick rectum… almost, but not quite. Angel smiled into the feeding as he effortlessly suppressed the demon in him to concentrate on the sensations of the man.

Spike knew Angel's feeding was more ceremonial than demonic. He thrust his neck up correspondingly, like a small puppy needing to be patted more. He actually felt Angel smile into the tendons of his neck and suck a little harder at the encouragement, but he still withdrew his mouth long before Spike felt the blood loss. He realised why when he saw the lust in Angel's eyes. He almost gasped at the raw need still evident in the angelic human features. Angel began to hump him with ever increasing urgency and passion. Spike took advantage of Angel's need and crashed into game face, lunging at Angel's neck. Angel screamed in delight as Spike attacked him at the very moment that he came, and his shuddering release into Spike was done with the smaller vampire hanging off his neck like a terrier. It did terrible damage to his neck, but he laughed as he came: waves of pleasure and the dreadful counterpoint of the pain and the drawing out of his blood, blending together into one erotic sensation. He surged his orgasm into Spike just before he felt the affects of the blood loss, and his erection wilted. The last twitch inside Spike signalled the end of his tolerance for the transgression, and he placed a demonically hard hand around his childe's throat, preventing him from swallowing any more. His mouth full of blood, Spike had no option but to pull off the torn neck… but he instantly reared up and fed Angel the last mouthful, licking it around Angel's human teeth and across his human tongue.

Finally, Spike returned to his human form and began to kiss at the wound he had made on Angel. He tickled his tongue into the soft flaps, sealing the edges temporarily only to watch with fascination as they fell apart slowly. He looked up a little guiltily. 'Sorry.'

Angel gave him an impenetrable look, and Spike felt a distinct stab of panic in his spine - panic at the thought of losing the man, of not having… this… anymore. Suddenly Angel sat up. 'How sorry are you?'

Spike was instantly wary. 'How sorry are you going to make me?'

'I want you to let me do something.'

Spike was actually scared. He rolled the fear around, enjoying it. New sensations were always good. 'Okay, I'll go along with this. What?'

Angel began to kiss small, childlike kisses down Spike's chest and belly. 'I want you to let me suck you off.'

Spike began to laugh. He tipped his head back and laughed up at the boxes piled on top of them; he laughed to the empty building and to the whole universe above. 'Yes, Angel. I'm really that sorry. I will let you do that.'

Angel lowered himself to this new territory. He propped himself up on one elbow and just studied his prey for a moment. Spike watched him, watching his cock sway and said 'Poof' very distinctly and slowly, then folded his arms under his head and settled back to enjoy the sight he was soon going to be treated to… or rather the apology he about to make. He grinned again.

Firstly, Angel rearranged everything to his own design, pulling Spike's balls free from where they had tucked between his legs, and laying them out in full view. Then he exposed Spike's cockhead, rolling the foreskin down and tapping the shaft lightly to test how upright it stayed on provocation. He was pleased with the effect and moved a few boxes, enough to let some more light in but not enough to immolate them both. The filtered sunlight caught the secretions of Spike's erection and made the exposed tip glisten. The rest of the shaft was soft and muted in comparison to this enticing bulb. It was where Angel wanted to begin, and he licked it tentatively.

Driven to the point of almost spontaneous ejaculation by Angel's quiet playing, Spike bit his lip so hard at this first lick that blood spouted from the soft red membrane, and he sucked it in, revelling in the taste.

Angel continued to lick with no hands, the effect only making the licks very light and teasing as the cock swayed away with each touch. Spike cried out in distress at the indirectness, desperate for more intensity. Angel ignored him and only blew on the saliva he had trailed across the fleshy tip. Angel saw and Spike felt a pulse of blood thicken and twitch in the shaft. Angel chuckled and resumed the slow swirling of his tongue over the mushroom head of Spike cock and probed once or twice into the tiny, aching slit. He could taste a faint salty trace of spent cum and nuzzled in further to pursue the trail. He felt Spike start to unfold his arms to force more and hit him, fairly hard, on one thigh. He glanced at Spike through lowered lids, and Spike's spine tingled at the look. 'I told you, you'd be sorry.'

Spike laughed. 'Bastard.'

Angel nodded and raised one eyebrow, but continued to barely touch Spike with his tongue. He made a show of looking at his watch. 'We've got six hours 'til dark. Oh good.'

'No!' Spike choked off his plea as Angel sat back on his heels doing nothing.

'My way or not at all.'

'You goyt, Angel.'

'Goyt? Does that mean masterful, all-powerful sire, Spike?'

'Fuck you.'

'Does it mean, bringer-of-pleasure-to-the-cock, Spike?'

'F-u-c-k o-f-f.'

'Does it mean he-of-the-powerful-tongue?'

'Yes, it means all those things, and six hours is just fine by me… only, Angel, please… use that pretty mouth for something else than pissing me off, hey?'

Angel shrugged and returned to his slow, exquisite torture of Spike's cock. He felt almost sorry for his victim, felt he ought to give equal attention to the root of this delightful column. He pushed his tongue into the wiry hair and probed to the deep root with hard thrusts. He was pleased with the effect and wished briefly he'd brought the Dictaphone Cordelia had bought him. It would make interesting playback in the quiet hours when he wanted to be reminded of someone responding well to sexual torture.

He rewarded Spike for his vocal efforts by using his teeth on the erectile muscles of the cock, biting them to a peak of performance. He nuzzled into the perineum and, at the same time, slipped a finger back into Spike to find his prostate gland from the inside. Looking up at Spike's face with an amused, self-satisfied smile, he worked it from inside and out, and when he thought Spike could take no more, swapped mouth for finger, continued to squeeze between both hands, but plunged Spike's shaft deep into his throat where his vampire-strong throat muscles clamped and released the bulbous head…

… but he had six hour to fill and gleefully withdrew for a rest. He was impressed with Spike's ability to swear and sat back, learning choice new expressions.

Spike gave him a mutinous, determined look and put his hand down to his own cock. Angel only raised an eyebrow. 'You've got three seconds to remove that.'

Spike ran his fist up the aching shaft, watching Angel carefully. He ran it back down and felt an orgasm beginning to build... suddenly he was pinned beneath sixteen stones of furious sire and winced at the crushing grip Angel applied to his wrists. 'I preferred you when you were some loser poof in a bar, mate.'

Angel touched his mouth to Spike's and teased his lips with gentle, tickling brushes. Spike moaned and raised his hips in frustration, desperation for contact and friction. Angel responded and let him grind into his naked groin for a while as he plundered his willing mouth... but enough was enough... and he still had five hours and forty six minutes to fill. He laughed at Spike's face and went back to his contemplation of Spike's cock, which had changed shape and texture subtly since his last examination and therefore needed to be examined again.

Angel felt Spike deserved some encouragement, so after a few minutes of the agonising licking, he plunged once more onto the cock, deeply to the root and clenched his throat muscles around the tip. Spike heaved a great gasp of shock at the unexpected delight and grasped Angel's hair, thrusting up and trying to bring himself off before Angel withdrew.

'I'm sure they must be here somewhere. Angel would never leave his car.'

'Angel? Spike?'

The vampires froze. Angel swallowed reflexively, forgetting he had Spike's shaft implanted in his oesophagus; he choked; Spike rose off the box as if levitating at the intense stimulation - and came, copiously and shudderingly, into Angel.

Angel shot a hand out to silence any screaming, and Spike bit down as he came. Angel swallowed frantically and tried to find his jeans and Spike's clothes at the same time. They heard Wesley's voice closer now.

'Cordelia, the roof exit is open.'

'Well they aren't up there, I'm thinking, Wes... unless they're...'

They heard footsteps on the steps to the roof and exclamations over the discovery of the mattress. Angel gave Spike a furious look and arched his hips up trying to fasten his jeans. Spike dressed more easily and returned the look with equal fury.

'Do I look... normal?'


'Spike! Have I got... anything stuck on me? Oh, fuck you...'

They heard the humans descending.

'Vamps come back do you think? That looked like some sort of yucky lair.'

'I'm not sure... if they did, then where is Angel? And Spike, as he's missing too.'

'You don't think... they've been... you know... damn...'

Angel looked at Spike and made to show himself, but Spike took his arm and nodded slightly at his hair, grinning. Angel grimaced and allowed Spike to try to remove some of the odd flatness and strangely stuck-out pieces. Wesley's next comment made Spike freeze.

'No. I'm sure they're not, Cordelia. Spike would never let anything happen to Angel.'

Spike raised his eyes in disbelief and shook his head at Angel's smug smile.

'Whoa, Wes, how'd'ya work that one out? You weren't here when that evil blond cretin tried to shiskebab Angel, were you?'

'He didn't though.'

'No, we slammed into him with a large van, that's why.'

'I don't think so. I've been thinking about this a lot since you told me... err, since I thought there was more to their relationship than sire and childe, and although Lorne lied to Angel, from what I've observed, I think he perceptively saw more than he knew.'

Their voices began to fade as they made their way down to the lower levels.

Spike looked at his nails for a while, then played with his rings. Angel stood and pushed angrily at the boxes covering them. Avoiding the sunlight streaking in through the windows, he began to pace distractedly over the dusty floor.

'He lied.'

Spike watched him from his perch in the boxes. 'Guess I didn't want to kill you after all.'

'Don't joke about this, Spike. Not about this. You know that's not what Wesley meant.'

'Yeah. Guess.'

'You don't want me?'

Spike began to laugh.

Angel whirled on him. He couldn't believe his childe was laughing at him. Spike sobered instantly when he saw Angel's face, but said carefully. 'I think that's what you want to think.'


'Here we are, Angel, just like before. You saw yourself up there on that mattress, didn't you? And you didn't like what you saw. You've lost the power to me; that's what you think. You've become a bitch to me, and you want this to end... so you blame me.'

'No!' Angel came back towards the boxes and stood looking down at Spike. At his lost expression, Angel fell gently to his knees almost in obeisance to his own childe. He took Spike's face between his hands. 'It wasn't really power, Spike. I didn't get it until I saw you sitting at that bar. It was fear: fear of admitting the truth. I crave you. I did then; I do now.'

Spike put the pad of his thumb over Angel's cheekbone, stroking lightly. 'Shit, luv, when you sat down next to me and I saw... when you turned to me...' he stopped, embarrassed by the welling emotion he found so hard to express. 'All I've ever wanted is for you to want me.'

Angel nodded. 'To be big enough to admit it, you mean.'

Spike smiled softly. 'Are you big enough, Angel?'

Angel tipped his head to one side, 'What do you mean?' Although Spike saw from his face that Angel already knew the answer to this. He stared at Angel levelly until Angel gave a faint nod and then stood, pulling Spike to his feet as well.

They were silent all the way back to the hotel, the long, pedestrian route through the sewers distracting them both sufficiently not to feel the silence too intently.

When they emerged into the lobby they could almost feel the overwhelming relief in the humans. Angel answered questions; Spike went to fetch blood as they were both starving. As an after thought, he made tea for Wesley and coffee for Cordelia and Gunn, smiling at the strange domestication. When he returned to the lobby, carefully carrying a tray, he ignored the deafening silence and handed out the drinks complacently. Wesley coughed.

'So, you're going to start off here as tea boy then?'

Spike grinned. 'If you want, mate; I fight better than I brew though, believe me.'

Wesley tasted the tea. 'Quite.'

Angel cleared his throat as if to speak. No one noticed except Spike who paused, waiting for the actual words to come forth. Nothing. He grinned inwardly and perched on the end of Cordelia's desk, staring at Angel. Angel did not catch his eye but made busy with some paperwork.

Eventually, he said in quiet, rushed words, without looking at anyone in particular, 'Spike's staying. He's staying with me. I... I need him, and he's staying.'

The laughter made him snap his head up. Gunn slapped a ten-dollar bill on Wesley's desk; Wesley leant back to hand that and one from him to Cordelia. Angel watched all this with a dismayed fascination. Cordelia looked longingly at the money... then stretched over and handed it to Spike who pocketed it, delightedly.


Gun patted Angel patronisingly, but sympathetically, on the arm. 'Don't ask, bro; I don't get it either.'

'Were you taking bets on... me... I mean... us... and hey! You can't bet on yourself!' Angel looked pointedly at Spike.

'Sure I can. I told the bint I'd be ensconced in less than a week. She said no way cus you were ...'

'Hey! Blondie, private conversation-much!'

'... said you were a brave, warrior-like vampire who found it hard to show emotion.'

Angel backed away, shaking his head and retreated behind his desk for the rest of the day. Spike stayed out with the humans for while, but when he sensed the chatter annoyed Angel, made his way up to bed. He figured he was still sleeping alone for a while, and cast an envious look into Angel's room as he passed.

Angel sat pondering at his desk, his hands tented under his chin. He desperately wanted a shower and some sleep, but could not face the grins and silent yet deafening laughter that would follow him up the stairs if he went now.

They knew. He'd told them; they already knew; they knew now... it was pretty immaterial - all semantics in the long run - they knew… that was all that mattered.

After an hour or so, Wesley came in with some files and a fresh cup of coffee. He placed both carefully on Angel's desk, then made to leave, but at the last moment returned and leant on the desk. Angel looked up. Wesley didn't look away, and Angel sighed and picked up his pen to play with. 'Are you okay with this? I seem to remember you were the least flattering of any of them about Spike.'

'Not flattering, but accurate, I seem to recall.'

The details of Wesley's thoughts on Spike flooded back to Angel. He gave the human a surprised look, and then laughed. 'Thank you, Wesley. You know I don't find it...'

'I know, Angel; I don't either. So if you can put up with Cordelia's odd - and I may say rather prurient - interest in your activities, I can assure you, you will hear nothing from either Charles or myself on the subject.'

Angel nodded gratefully.

Wesley smiled. 'After all, I must say, I prefer him to Darla or Faith.'

Angel gave a small, almost secretive smile. 'So do I.'

'I had noticed.'

Angel's head shot up and then lowered as fast when he caught the human's eye. Wesley made a bold move and patted his arm, fondly. 'Gracious Angel, once it was err... pointed out to me... even I could see it was... there was...' he tipped his head to one side looking at the oddly ruffled hair. '...chemistry, I suppose. You two have chemistry... volatile though the mix may be... it's undeniable, Angel. So please, for the sake of peace and harmony for the rest of us - don't deny it?'

With that parting thought, Wesley got up and left Angel to his musing.

Spike could see that the humans seemed surprised by how ... petty Angel managed to be with him for the next few days. The tension returned between them. They could all see how much of an effort he was making to fit in and told him they all blamed Angel for being distant and cold with him and sympathised with him at every turn... however were strangely adamant he should not confront him... yet. Angel was absent for the rest of that day and most of the following, and Spike hung around the hotel looking increasingly miserable.

On the third day, despite Wesley and Cordelia trying to prevent him, he was provoked enough to confront Angel in his office. He didn't care that the two humans were just outside, undoubtedly listening.

He went into the office. Angel even had the nerve to look up coolly. 'Hello, Spike. What do you want?'


Angel seemed to be thinking about this. 'Oh, what's the bet this time? Can I play?'

'Fuck off, Angel.'

'I was kind of hoping you might do that, Spike.'

Spike took a slight step back, but he recovered and came closer. He noticed with fury that Angel was twisting his watch round and round his wrist distractedly, provoking Spike to retort bitterly.

'Can't now, can I? You fucking git.'

Angel looked up. He leant back in his chair. He smiled and nodded towards the lobby. 'Yes, you can.'

Spike felt his bowels contract slightly; his throat seemed suddenly tight. Once more he was being forced to run away from something he only wanted to run toward.

He turned and almost staggered towards the door, pushed past the grinning humans and ran into the lobby. He almost slipped as he staggered to a halt. He stared; he glanced back to Angel.

He turned back and stared at the motorbike propped on its stand by one of the couches.

In a daze he walked slightly unsteadily towards the Triumph.

He hardly took it in when Gunn, who had pushed the bike in, laughingly passed him and, with fond tolerance, said, 'Jees, vampire, couldn't you have held out one more day 'fore you folded? I had you down for four days.' He slapped a note into a grinning Angel's outstretched hand and flung himself into a chair. Spike looked even more bewildered when Angel stuck his other hand out to Cordelia and Wesley, and one by one they begrudgingly gave him notes. Cordelia shrugged and said with a laugh, 'Six.' Wesley looked apologetically at Spike and held up five fingers.

Spike turned back to the machine. He'd been played; he didn't care. He closed his eyes. He opened his eyes and ... plummeted in love with the bike, its metallic dark silver drawing him in, setting his teeth on edge with its beauty. He knew what one of these cost, and that Angel should have bought it for him, staggered him.

As if Angel were reading his mind again, he felt arms slip around his waist, and Angel stroked the money on his face as he nuzzled into his ear. 'This'll pay for one spoke, I guess.'

'You complete git, Angel. You've had me bricking it for days. I thought...'

'Yeah, I know you did.'

'It's mine?'

Angel laughed. 'What do you think? I just borrowed it for the day to piss you off? I'm not that cruel. It's so you can piss off anytime you want, Spike, so when I wake up and you're still lying alongside me, I'll know…'

'That I'm here cus I want to be?'

Angel laughed. 'Well, I was gonna say I'd know no one else would put up with you, but if you wanna believe your version…'

Spike pouted affectionately at him then smirked and ran his hands over the seat, and up and over the tank. Angel hissed faintly. 'I'm getting jealous.'

Spike stopped and chuckled. 'A Bonneville America. What made you choose this one, pet? It's so… perfect.'

Angel looked pleased, but almost amused at something. Spike poked him in the ribs, 'Hey, what's so funny?'

Angel shook his head, 'Nothing… only… I said I wanted something traditional but new; something English, made for an American…' He couldn't finish for laughing. They both knew he wasn't talking about the bike.

Spike cocked his eyebrow and swung his leg over the bike, laughing at Angel's face. He wriggled slightly to get comfortable. 'Fuck, I love the feel of leather between me thighs. Hey! I could be a Hell's Angel.'

Angel folded his arms patiently. 'Angel's hell, more like.'

Spike stuck his tongue out and continued to make himself comfortable on the seat... much to Angel's discomfort. He had to resist putting his hand down to readjust his pants and kept his arms resolutely folded.

Glancing over Angel's shoulder, Spike said in an amused voice. 'We're being watched, mate. Careful you don't explode there.'

Angel looked up and caught his eye.

'I don't care. Upstairs, now.'

Spike stopped laughing. 'You serious? We go upstairs now... middle of the day... bit obvious ain't it?'

'Exactly. Upstairs, Spike, don't make me repeat myself.'

Spike grinned and swung his leg over the front so he perched sideward on the seat, facing Angel. 'How's about we play "Spike learns to ride his new bike" then?'

If Angel felt all eyes on him like prurient daggers as he walked up the stairs, to his credit, he didn't show it.

Spike lit a cigarette, watched his retreating back for moment, and then jumped off the bike, sauntered over to the amused humans who had not even been pretending not to watch the activities in the lobby. With a twitch of his eyebrow he began a slow, mock calculation of the cost of the present on his fingers. When he reached the amount, he nodded complacently, then grinned and held out his hand expectantly. Much to their disgust, they each handed him another tribute.

Spike began to follow Angel up the stairs, but as he reached the bottom one he turned, tipped his head on one side, looked at each of them in turn, nodded at the bike and said with a slightly self-deprecating grin, 'Told ya: only the best. 'S just chemistry.'

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