On Me - Chapter 11
And I’m thinking real clearly now. I can see just
what was happening between Angel and me. I was a convenient fuck to pass the
time with who wouldn’t damage his precious soul, and I fucked it all up by getting
all fucked up. Then he had to take care of me: get me out of the way cus precious
one was coming for a little visit. Shit, they probably have chaste huggin’ and
sodding conversation in bed cus of the friggin’ curse. But doesn’t matter for
Angel, cus he’s got good old Spike to get his rocks off for him afterwards.
Well, it ain’t gonna work like that, mate, cus Spike’s on to your little game
and, oh boy, are you gonna suffer for this. I down another shot that the sad
little wanker sitting next to me has been buying me all night. Probably thinks
his night’s about to be made. Probably can’t believe he’s managed to pick up
a leather-clad fucking rock star. Yeah, maybe I’ll start blowin’ sad fucks in
alley ways to make a livin’. That’d piss him off big time. But, right now, I’ve
got a little visit to the old sire and his jail-bait to make. And one’s things
for fucking sure, his little slayer’s gonna see some slaying tonight.
I reassure Buffy and Willow that nothing is going to happen to me and send them back to Sunnydale. I’m pretty sure that I was wrong in my first thought that I would never see Spike again. Now I’m pretty sure that I will be seeing him very soon. He is not going to let this pass, and I have to come up with a way to hold him here long enough to explain before he stakes me. Because I’ve no illusions on that front. I am totally at his mercy, because my hand could not lift against him. I quickly move round the apartment, making my preparations. I’ve got one shot at this, and I’d better not get it wrong.
Fucker’s here; I can smell him: that unique Angel smell that was beginning to mean home to me. Beginning to mean love. Beginning to mean a future. I guess by now he’s well into whatever the fuck he does with the Slayer, and I wonder how much better than me she feels: her warm soft body. Does he miss this cold, hard body? Well, miss it then fucker, cus you ain’t ever gonna hold it again. I move silently down the stairs, hoping that his brain's moved down to his dick and that he ain’t sensing me at all, cus I want to surprise them… what the fuck? The apartment is brightly lit, shit; I think every light is on, and then some, and there’s music on the player. Bloody hell, it’s Robbie singing Angels, and what the bleedin’ hell is going on here? Cus Angel is sitting on the couch looking at me, and there’s no Slayer here cus I can smell that, too, and I start to laugh.
‘She’s fucked off and left you, ain’t she mate? Did you tell ‘er about your little fuck toy? And why the bleeding hell are you playing my fucking CDs?’
‘I thought they were our CDs now?’
‘How fuckin’ dare you, you tosser!’ And this is SO not how I planned this, cus I’m standing here in some sort of bleeding spotlight, and the wanker’s just sitting there all broody and quiet and and and, shit, he’s taking his shirt off.
‘Come here, Spike.’
Oh yeah, I’ll come there, mate, and I lunge at him, grabbing him round the waist and propelling him back against the couch. I fall on his now naked chest, but I’m not going to let that distract me. I get a good right hook to his jaw, and his head snaps back with a small crack. He grunts and goes loose under me, and I’m just about to pull myself back to standing when the fucker flips me over and lands squarely on top of me on the floor.
Well, that got his attention. Thought the Angels track was a nice touch. Knew what would distract my Spike the quickest. And it worked. And now he’s under me, and all I have to do is convince him that he is my Spike, and that I am his. But if he keeps wriggling like thi,s I’m not sure I’m going to be able to concentrate long enough to... ah shit, thought I was hard earlier, but just thinking of Spike is nothing like as good as the reality of Spike. So, now I’m so hard, I may actually stake him with it if I’m not careful, but, oh, just keep wriggling Spike, just like that.
‘Spike! Stop struggling.’ Ohh, keep wriggling, Spike. Yeah, just there, that’s right. ‘Spike, calm down.’
‘Dontyoufriggingtellmetocalmdownyoufuckingloser.’ Yeah, so, OK, I’m screaming now, but it’s real hard to concentrate and keep to the plan of staking your Sire when he’s naked to the waist and his fucking cock’s giving you bruises and, OH HOLY SHIT! He’s gone into game face, and he’s sunk his fangs into my neck, and he’s, ohhh, he’s draining me dry. I’m going to die here on his floor and he’s… oh… he’s stopped, and he’s forcing me against his neck, and I can’t resist, cus he’s drained me to make me do this. So, I don’t resist and....
I pierce his flesh and start to drink deeply.
And I’m spinning away from our bodies on the floor.
I am moving out of this room, and I see the Slayer in a car heading back to Sunnyhell and... weird, she’s not alone, Red’s with her, and they are talking about me. Oh shit, it was Red in the shower I heard, and now I’m in someone’s apartment, and Angel is on the couch. Through the blood, Angel is sending me his thoughts, and I can see him lying there, and I can hear him thinking about me and thinking about the slayer. And, Oh God, I see myself as he sees me, and I am there in a shaft of sunlight, and my duster is blowing away from me, and I am like some fucking movie star: all lines and planes and angles of light and, jees, I LOVE what I’ve done to my hair, and can I shag meself, cus I am fucking stomping. And he’s dressed me in leather – interesting thought to file away.
And I see how he sees ‘Buffy’, and she’s all pink and fluffy and sucking on a lolly pop (shit, I was right, jail-bait, mate), and she’s somehow insubstantial, and his thoughts on her are tender and sweet . And yeah, there I am again, and, jees, I‘m not insubstantial. I’m like the entire focus of his attention. I can feel the waves of obsession come pouring out of him. In his mind, I see myself from every angle as he turns me round and round, and I am always twisting my head back to look at him. And this Spike I am watching is laughing all the time, and I realise what Angel is trying to show me: that wherever he looks, there I am; whatever he thinks, I’m thinking it, too, and whatever he does, I do it with him, and I am there making his life light and full of laughter.
I’ve done everything I can now. I’ve sent him the most potent message I know how to. He’s staring up at me with those incredible eyes. Wish I’d shown him his eyes. He’d have liked that.
‘Leather hey, mate? You’re a sodding poof, you know that, don’t you?’ And despite all my better intentions, I can’t help but grin ruefully at him.
‘Yeah, well, just you remember, childe; that’s how I see you when I’m wanking off. Most of the time I see you as a miserable little fuck ruining my unlife!’
‘Sooo, you picture me when you’re doing this, do you?' And I rub his cock through his pants, lightly scratching my nail over the head, and I feel the moisture coming though as the head weeps to meet my touch. He groans deeply and arches back from the waist, pressing his cock harder on to me. I rise up to catch the back of his neck and, looking him deeply in the eyes, I place a deep and loving kiss on his soft, willing lips.
‘I’m sorry, Luv. I shouldn’t have doubted you, but….’ He stills my mouth with his own, and we don’t need words anymore tonight, cus we have better use for tongues and teeth and lips. He pulls my duster off my shoulders and quickly strips my shirt off me, and we are both naked from the waist up. I go to undo his pants, but he stills my hand and, pushing me back down to the floor, he arches up again and starts to grind his cock against mine. And, oh shit, it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever felt. He keeps his eyes on me, and he’s laughing at my reaction.
I can’t believe the startled look on his face. He wants to get on with it: ever impatient Spike. He’s no idea of the lessons in foreplay I intend to give him tonight. I start to turn the rubbing into sliding up and down over him, and he’s rolling his eyes back in his head, and I really don’t want him to cum just yet, so I stop and, ignoring his groan of frustration, I stand up and offer him my hand.
Bastard’s stopped. But I really don’t want to cum just yet, so, when he offers me his hand, I take it, and we go into the bedroom. He stands a few feet from me and starts to peel off his pants, languidly and sensuously, and when did I start to sound like the big ponce himself? Too much drinkin’ his blood, I’m thinkin’. Next thing yer know, I’ll be wearing cashmere and saying ‘excuse me please’. And now he’s naked in front of me, and he’s still grinning at me, and he’s just licked his lips like I’m about to be.. .oh, he’s standing toe to toe, and he’s licking up my chest, and my knees buckle from the sensation, not only from his tongue on my nipples, but cus his cock is now brushing against my stomach, and I can see the huge, engorged head glistening in the light.
I start to take his pants off, easing my hands into the waistband of his jeans and just running them around a bit before sliding the zip down. He’s buckling at the knees, and he groans deeply when I free his cock, now standing up to attention with mine. When we are both naked, I turn him gently around and start to nuzzle into his neck, just to make sure his defences are down before….
Oh shit, he’s handcuffed me. A very large trickle of fear descends my spine, and I’m wondering if I’ve read tonight all wrong. Holy mother of God, did he fuck Slutty and lose his soul? Am I naked and handcuffed and in a bedroom with a pissed off Angelus? Cus that’d be worse than ‘Bikers in a factory time’.
‘Shhh, Spike, remember, I can read your thoughts for a while when the blood is in us. See my thoughts; feel my desires.’
And I can. If I try, I can see Angel’s desire for me. I can see the man wanting this body. I can see the soul, still there, wanting love. And, underneath them, I can see my old friend, Angelus, firmly anchored but screaming and banging his head against the walls for me, for his blood companion and his eternity.
And he does, and he sees the entirety that is my need for him, all of me in a holy trinity of need.
‘So, Spike, you’ve been very bad tonight. You’ve disobeyed me by leaving the cabin. You’ve stolen one of David’s cars, I presume. And hey… I’m guessing you don’t have a licence. You’ve tricked some poor man in a bar to buy you drinks all night – remember, Spike, I told you, I can read you now. And, let’s think, oh yes. You planned to come here and stake me. Am I missing anything?’
Shit, this Angel's doing a pretty good impression of Angelus, and I’m not sure yet if I like this.
‘So, what should I do with you, hey? Boy!’
‘That’s a rhetorical question, Spike.’
‘It’s just as well for you, Spike, I can also read why you did those things, and I think I’m gonna limit your punishment to this….’
Fucking pillock’s pulled me into the shower with him, and there’s not much I can do about it, cus my hands are handcuffed behind my back, and we’re both under the water, and he’s staring at me, not letting me look away. He’s washing himself slowly from top to bottom and, ohhhh, God; he’s swirling his hands around his slick cock, letting me watch as he pulls the foreskin back, and then up again to join and back, exposing the engorged head. I think I’m gonna explode, cus I can’t touch my cock, or his, and I’m just getting wet and, fuck, he’s speeded up, and he’s still looking at me, and he’s gonna cum, and he’s pushed me to my knees, and I’ve no option but to take him in as he pushes into my mouth. But he’s real gentle and takes the back of my head in his other hand, stroking up and down my hairline, and I can’t help but think what an erotic picture we would make: me on my knees, handcuffed; him standing above me, cock in my mouth, and the water cascading down over us, making a world of water droplets in which only we exist.
This would be enough. This moment in time. The cascading water washes away all our pretensions and doubt, and all I can feel is his soft mouth on my hard cock and the tension building as my balls scream to cum and, in a wave of pleasure, I do cum deeply in his throat. I sink to my knees and capture his mouth in mine and start to suck my cum out of his mouth, tasting myself and him mixed together, and I don’t let his eyes wander from my gaze. I want to see his reaction to everything I do tonight.
I’m lost now in the sea of passion that is Angel’s tongue in my mouth, that is Angel tasting himself for Christ’s sake, and, still, I can’t use my hands. But I have no pride left. ‘Angel, pleeease! Let me go, I need to… Angel; I can’t take this anymore.…’
But he doesn’t take any notice; his eyes won’t let me alone, and when he sees me beg, he gives the slightest flicker of a grin and… bloody hell, he’s moved behind me and....
With one swift thrust, I enter him. He’s very slick and easy from the water, and I am coated with my own cum. The sensation as my cock passes through the tight muscle at his entrance is indescribable. This is the first time I have done this for love, since before I left him, since Romania. I pause for a moment to give him time to adjust to me inside him. But only for a moment, because this sensation is unforgiving, and it makes me desperate for relief. His hands and arms fastened behind him make really convenient holds, so grabbing on tightly, I ride him hard, thrusting in and up with each stroke, hitting his sensitive spot each time, making him pant and groan.
‘Angel! Me, too. Christ, mate. Pleeease, I’m dying here’, cus my cock is being pushed into the shower floor and, shit, I need some relief. Feels like I’m gonna burst. And then, all rational thought ends, cus he is cuming in huge thrusts deep in my body, in heaving waves of cold cum, and he’s screaming, and he’s screaming my name. And it’s enough.
I feel my orgasm roaring in my ears, and it seems to go on forever. I’m filling him deeply, but it’s too much and spills out mixing with the water in the bottom of the stall and, when it’s over, I collapse on top of him for a moment. I think I was screaming, and I think I was screaming his name, and that’s okay. I swiftly undo the cuffs and lie down under the still spouting water. I pull him over to straddle my chest and, reaching up, I run my tongue over his almost purple cock.
‘Who do you trust, Spike?’ Lick.
‘You, pet, if you’re going to do that to me.’
‘Wrong answer. Who do you trust, Spike?’ No lick.
‘Still not enough. Who do you trust, Spike?’ Move to get up.
‘You, Angel! Love. Pet. Mate. Light of my unlife. You, now, forever, whatever, just suck me, OK!’
‘Much better,’ and, with that, I rear up and swallow him whole, right down to the back of my throat allowing the head to rub against the wall and, ohh shit, I love being a vampire at moments like this, and I seal my lips around his thick shaft and proceed to take him way over the edge of reason. And it doesn’t take long, cus he’s desperate and very hard, and, oh god, the taste of him as he explodes down my throat. I can feel the cum pumping along the shaft under my lips and the cold seed flooding down. I swallow every drop and continue to suck and lick him gently, until he comes down, and he falls onto my chest and a low, happy chuckle rumbles against me. ‘What’s so funny, Spike?’ I chuckle in his ear.
‘You, mate. You’re funny.’
‘And why would that be?’ I’m stroking his wet hair with my fingers, twisting them in the short blond strands and tugging gently. I want him to raise his head and look in my eyes, because this moment is it. This moment is forever. This is how far we have come on this journey from Sunnydale, which has been so much more than just a trip to LA to kill a demon.
I lift my head and look him in the eyes. ‘Cus, mate, for all your sodding ‘I’m Angelus’ domination act just there with the ole handcuffs, I seem to recall it was you screaming my name. Not the other way about. You’re just a fat poof who fancies me in leather, but I’m still the Big Bad, mean-ass vampire I always was!’
‘Well, I think there’s one thing you may be forgetting here, Spike.’
‘What’s that then, you ponce?’
‘I drank your blood, too. I saw what you see, when you look at me!’
Oh bloody hell!