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Chapter 20

Angel's hand moved almost automatically to his limp penis as he pondered this thought. He frowned. 'You've imagined me….'

'Sometimes, when you lay along side me after we'd shagged the girls, I'd picture you still not satisfied….'

'And doing this?'

'Oh. Jesus. Yes.' Spike watched the hands he adored caressing a stiffening penis. As he had always known they would, they worked the perfect column with a gentle reverence that utterly belied the demon inside.

Spike tore his eyes away from the moving, pulling fist to look at Angel's expression. It was just as he'd seen it, dreamt it and wanted it for decade upon long decade. The dark eyes were closed with rapt bliss as his mind flickered over private, erotic images. Every so often, a frown lowered the heavy brow and the sensuous lips parted slightly as if their owner tasted something. Spike shivered to the certainty that his body now featured largely in the thoughts creating that look.

He leant closer and laid his head on Angel's thighs where he could look from one to the other - face to fist, fist to face. Angel's hand sped up, and Spike closed his eyes for a moment to enjoy the sound: the slap, slap of flesh, lubricated and worked. He opened them to see Angel's hand awash and glistening with pre-cum; it made his mouth water as it bubbled out of the swollen, raw cockhead.

All gentleness vanished. It was astonishing that a cock could take such punishment; it seemed worse to Spike than anything he inflicted on his, but he smirked with the thought that when he was… in the moment… he probably pulled just as hard.

Angel suddenly swore and sat up a little. He cupped his hand around the raw cockhead seeming to forget that he was naked and already coated in drying sperm. He caught his ejaculation and only then appeared to wonder why he'd bothered. With a small smirk, he wiped it off in Spike's hair.

At Spike's look of outrage, Angel chuckled, lay back on folded arms and said, amused, 'Okay. That was a first.'

Spike shifted his head slightly so it lay on Angel's still twitching and leaking shaft. Angel's hand returned with a renewed gentleness, but this time, the caresses were all for Spike, the soft cupping was now to Spike's ear and the slow pulling and working was to the sticky strands of Spike's hair.

There was no movement for a long time from either vampire; they both lay silent in the gloom, just the languid movements of Angel's hand on his childe giving any sign that they were awake.

Eventually, Spike put his hand on Angel's wrist, stilling him for a moment and said with a sad voice, 'What's still wrong, Pet?'

Angel allowed his hand to be stilled for a moment, but then pulled free and resumed the repetitive twisting and reshaping of the blond hair. 'What happens when there's nothing of me left for you? You are… demanding.'

'I'm not a bleeding two-year-old.'

The pause was just slightly too long for Spike's liking, and he huffed at the non-existent rebuttal. Angel's voice was low when he eventually spoke. 'Sometimes the fight is so bad, Spike. Christ, the pain out there is never-ending. I can't take so much…. I… falter. Sometimes, I have nothing left, Spike: man, demon - it doesn't matter; they are both exhausted.'


'So, what then for you? What will there be for you when you want to play your games and I can't? Fuck, Spike, who will you turn to?' Angel's voice sank even lower. 'Who are you going to leave me for?'

Spike stood up. He held out a hand to Angel. Wordlessly, Angel took it, and Spike heaved him to his feet. Angel needed a reply and began to speak, but Spike laid a hand over his mouth and shook his head fractionally. Still holding Angel's wrist, he led him out of the kitchens.

When they reached their floor, Spike headed directly for the bathroom. Still refusing Angel the opportunity to speak, he began to run a bath. Angel frowned at this, but stood willingly enough, just waiting for instruction - as if he had become the exhausted, empty vessel he had just conjured.

Spike tested the water then made Angel get in. When he'd made sure he was lying back, relaxed, soaking in the blisteringly hot water, Spike went downstairs and fetched several blood bags. He turned off the light as he came back, and a subtle, restful darkness enveloped them. He immersed the bags in the water, pushed Angel forward a little and slipped in behind him, his addition causing the water to cascade over the edge and pool, steaming on the cool marble floor.

Spike fished for the first bag, chuckled at the potential that occurred to him with the search, but resisted, and brought the retrieved bag to his mouth, ripping into the plastic. When the blood began to spurt out, he pressed the hole to Angel's mouth and held the bag like an obscene breast above him as he nuzzled in and fed. They repeated the exercise until all the blood was gone. The water turned red with spillages, the pool on the floor now a deep crimson, floating with discarded bags. Bloodied water swilled over the edge of the tub at every move. Spike leant into Angel's ear. 'Empty? Nothing left for me? When that happens, Angel, I'll just fill you up again and make you whole. I just want you.'

Angel lay back onto Spike's slim form, closed his eyes and fell asleep, lulled and cosseted by the smell and taste of warm blood.

He slept until cold woke him. With a start, he jerked his head around. 'It's freaking freezing in here now!'

Spike nodded and glanced with a raised eyebrow at Angel's cock. Angel swore and jumped out of the water, reaching for a towel. He watched Spike climb out and then slightly shyly, took another towel and wrapped him up. Suddenly, he ripped both towels off again. 'Better idea.'

He turned the shower on and dragged them both under a hot stream. The water ran red for a moment as their bodies released the last traces of the bath water. They turned, relishing the heat, lifting their arms to let the water run down their sides, into their hair and faces.

The bed seemed very welcoming when they returned to it: a small den of warmth and softness after their foray into the cold kitchens. Spike sprawled on his belly, and Angel lay on his side, watching him. He put a hand to Spike's damp hair and entwined his fingers in the soft, clean locks. With a long, slow blink, Angel said slowly, 'What happens when I am perfect, Spike? When the struggle comes together, when I feel my redemption near, when I am the man I try so hard to be, when I….' Unbelievably, he choked slightly and turned swiftly away, flinging an arm over his eyes. As if determined to finish, however, he said with a voice almost breaking with emotion, 'What are you going to do when I can't accept the demon inside you? What happens when you revolt me, Spike?'

Spike slid close and began to stroke his finger up and down Angel's arm. Eventually, when he'd regained some control, Angel turned to look at him, but his eyes were glistening. 'What then?'

Spike gave a small grin, and Angel jerked his head back, looking deeply into the blue eyes. He could see that Spike was thinking this one through, considering his options. He lowered his eyes seductively, and once more the enticing eyelashes flared out over his perfect cheekbones. With a small, terrified flutter in his belly, Angel saw that Spike was thinking about Angelus. He almost heard Spike's response in his mind - heard just how Spike would prevent his redemption separating them. He began to pull away, suddenly seeing the almost perfect happiness Spike was giving him in a sinister new, Angelus-tinted light.

Spike laid a hand on Angel's arm, and Angel looked down at the only hands he would ever want on him again.

'Luv. If that ever happens…. If you come back from some mission one day and I revolt you….' Angel looked up from the small, shared contact, almost begging Spike not to speak his demon's name. 'Then I'll find some way to get my soul back too.'

Angel actually hitched in his breath as if he'd been stung and the small, human sound hung on the air between them. Spike smiled. For the first time since he'd seen Spike in his room, trying to steal his clothes, Angel felt that his childe's smile was utterly genuine. It was totally endearing, and for the briefest of moments, Angel wondered which one of them already had the soul. He nodded.

Spike made to lie back down but cast Angel a glance out of the corner of his eye. 'You done now? Covered all the bases? Made sure all that love of yours ain't gonna go to waste?'

Angel pouted but quickly found his lip being gently teased back into shape by Spike's soft lips.

Exhausted as their bodies were, they responded to the taste and feel of the other's mouth. Angel ran his hands over Spike's side, reassuring himself that he was really there. He opened his mouth to Spike, and the kisses became more urgent. He lifted himself over the smaller frame, covering it, enveloping it with his strong body. They both knew what was coming and made no effort to have it any different. Angel came swiftly with almost no release, and Spike followed shortly after, a few drops of cum merely glistening the tip of his erection.

Angel dropped his head onto Spike's shoulder.

One by one, the locks that he had fastened around an insatiable need to love fell away. He placed his lips to Spike's scar where he had once heard and stilled a man's heartbeat and surrendered to a deep, utterly peaceful sleep.

Spike didn't want to sleep. He wanted to feel Angel's body overwhelming him, smell Angel's scent enveloping him and see Angel's soft hair whenever he opened his eyes.

His body betrayed him though. After some minutes, faint rumbles turned into painful pangs of hunger. He'd fed Angel but neglected himself, and his injuries demanded blood.

He also felt he had an obligation still to fulfil.

Wearily, with some considerable trepidation, Spike eased Angel off him and slipped noiselessly out of the room. He went toward the stairs, pausing briefly at the door to his room. He looked at the empty bed and gave it a two-fingered salute.

As he warmed his food, he hopped up onto the counter, listening. He swung his legs and hummed quietly, but the sound was eerie in the empty hotel. He heard footsteps and looked up with a profound sense of inevitability.

He still hissed when the creature appeared in the doorway. He held up his hand and shaded his eyes slightly, bemused.

It was shining.

As if it had risen from the flames, new, whole and perfect, a sheen illuminated its skin. Colour tinted the contours of the naked body. It was human skin given perfection its creator could not. Spike slid off the counter and just stared. The thing seemed taller, its muscles more defined and its head held high as if it were looking far away to a private redemption.

It turned to him with a smile that would have melted far harder hearts than that of the very flawed demon in front of it.

'I think I've been forgiven, Spike. I am human.'

Spike was about to begin screaming, just to see if this would wake him, or at least cause Angel to wake him, but as this thought crossed his mind, a dark figure appeared in the doorway. Spike swung his glance to the new arrival and didn't know whether to laugh or just go for his first option and scream. Angel was propped up in the doorway, watching. He was rumpled and smelt of dried blood and cum.

The glowing, tanned Angel turned to follow Spike's gaze and frowned when it saw the naked figure leaning so nonchalantly in the doorway. It slowly took in his dishevelled state. With a deep frown, it turned and held out a hand to Spike. 'Come, Childe. I came back for you. I have risen, phoenix-like from the ashes, and I have come to make you mine.'

Spike looked from one to the other. He began to walk toward the outstretched hand. When he reached it, he made to touch it, but then drew back his hand.

With intense concentration he crossed the small floor to the dark figure in the doorway. Keeping his back to the glowing form, he placed a soft kiss on Angel's lips. As he did, he let one finger rise suggestively to the perfection behind him.

He turned his face to see the reaction to this but finding nothing but an empty room.

Spike woke, and it was light outside. He turned his head to watch Angel's face as he slept. The soft hair lay clean and fresh on the pillow. The skin was smooth and sweet smelling.

Spike grinned and, with a small touch of his tongue to soft lips, decided to wake and return this Angel to the dishevelled state he had just chosen over perfection.

The End

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