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Protective Custody – 4

The next few days passed in a blur of feeding, fighting, and desperate, individual fisting. So, in addition to these 'fs', there was a great deal of frustration, too.

They rarely left each other's side. Each day would start with breakfast, where Spike would oversee Angel's eating, forcing him to drink more blood than he would have by choice. Then they would go up to the training room and relish in the struggle for physical mastery that their sparring entailed. They trained hard for hours every day, and the training had taken on a new focus now. Angel had shown Spike one new move; he had mastered it, and had offered to teach Angel some things. So, they worked together, sharing skills and exploring weapons and techniques. Neither of them thought about the past. This was nothing like the past, nothing like the Sire / Childe relationship they had been trapped in then. Angel could not but admire Spike's skill and power. His confidence amazed him. Spike was confident enough in himself to admit that he did not know everything and was very willing to learn new skills. Angel had never had such an apt pupil.

Angel relished being Spike's student, too. Spike would put his hands lightly on Angel's body, easing him into new positions, checking his balance and control. With his face and mouth and lips only inches from Angel's, he would whisper commands for the delicate moves. Angel felt as if the world had imploded to the tiny space they occupied. All he could think about was the feel of his body under Spike's hands. He became so aroused by these sessions that he did not need to be encouraged to obey rule three. He willingly went to his room at the end of each morning, and he could hardly get through the door before his hand would fly to his cock to release it, and his fisting was harsh and painful. He would fall to his knees with his head thrown back. All he wanted was release; he didn’t want images flooding his brain. He didn't want to see hands moving on him in more intimate ways; he didn't want to think about the pleasure those hands could give him. He acquiesced to this self-release, but he did not want to threaten his soul.

Angel's rules had been completely forgotten. Angel wanted Spike with him all the time. So Spike had taken to coming down in the afternoons and hanging around the office. Occasionally, he would offer advice about a demon or some magic they were working on. Angel shared his thoughts with Spike and included him in the workings of the agency. Cordelia, Wesley, and Gunn were amazed, and slightly concerned, by the change in their strange colleague. He was approachable, affable, and almost fun to be around. He became thoughtful about the humans' needs, often producing boxes of doughnuts or tubs of ice cream when he came back to the office. That these treats were always exactly what Spike liked best, the flavours Spike enjoyed, was not lost on them. But they only smiled to themselves and enjoyed the fruits of this new, relaxed Angel.

But Angel had been more right than he knew to lay down his, now ignored, rules in the first place. This constant closeness drove them both to distraction. Angel's visits to his room became more and more frequent during the day. Spike started absenting himself, too, but when they reappeared, neither seemed to have had the sweet release they needed. The hotel had started to become like a powder keg of repressed desire: all it needed was a spark to ignite the fire.

An innocent telephone call was all it took.

Angel answered the phone, and his face creased in concern. He reluctantly handed it to Spike and mouthed 'Buffy' at him.

Spike took it. He was more surprised, perhaps, at suddenly realising he hadn't thought about her all week, than that she should be calling him now.


'Spike. What are you doing?'

'Talking to you.'

'Funny. Why are you there?'

'Err… I'm helping Angel with something.'

'Oh. Well, when are you coming back?'

'Why, you're not feeling a bit odd are you, Slayer? Not a little demony there, are you?'

'What are you talking about?'

'Nothing, pet. Just checking. So, what can I help you with?'

'When I want your help, Spike, I'll tell you.'

'Well, what the bleedin' hell do you want then?'

'Dammit, Spike, one minute you're here and we're… I'm… you're… I'm feeling all angsty, and I need a good staking.'

'Woa… I'm on my way then!'

'God, did I actually just say that? I need to do a good staking, Spike. Patrolling. I need you to patrol with.'

'Alright, pet. I'll come back tonight. I'll be there a couple of hours after dark, 'k?'


'What, luv?'

'Tell Angel… tell him… I'm… nothing. Tell him nothing.'

This would have been difficult, given Angel had his hand over Spike's and his ear pressed to the other side of the handset, listening to every word. Spike put the phone down and turned to him. 'Can you take that spell thing away then, mate? I'll be off tonight.'

What did Angel hear when Spike said this? What did he see when he looked at Spike's eager face. Did he see his one chance at surviving unlife slipping away from him? If that was the case, he would have done a lot better just to tell Spike that's how he felt.

What did Spike mean when he said it? Did he mean to finish clearly unfinished business, so that he could return willingly later that night to Angel? If that was the case, it was a pity he did not tell Angel that.

Both of them stood in complete ignorance of each other's thoughts and feelings. Angel thought Spike still loved Buffy and wanted to return to her; Spike thought that Angel completely understood that he had put his Sire into protective custody, and what Spike protected he did not leave.

So, Angel's quiet 'no' shocked them both.

Spike looked genuinely puzzled. 'No? What do you mean, no? I'm going. Let me go.'




'Fuck you!'

'It's still no.'

So, Spike hit him - not for training and not in fun. He gave Angel a serious blow to the side of his face. Angel felt the blow crack open his self-control. He had been broken open by Spike's presence, laid bare, tested, gone through the fire, and was just starting to emerge out of the other side, and now Spike wanted to go to Buffy.

He snapped. All self-restraint went with the hissed breath that accompanied his flying kick into Spike's hard belly. Spike was flung into the wall of the office, his head cracking painfully against a shelf. He recovered enough to avoid Angel's fist aiming for his face and kicked Angel in the back, hopping around his flailing body to slide over the counter and run up the stairs. Angel knew exactly where he was headed and followed.

Spike picked up his favourite weapon and swung the nunchaku around, ready for when Angel came into the room. He caught Angel across the face, cracking open his nose and cheekbones, but Angel ignored the pain and slid across the floor to retrieve a nightstick.

And they both knew. This was it: a fight to the death. It was what they had wanted for over a century. They both knew only one body would leave the room after this confrontation.

Spike stood straight and looked at Angel. 'Bring it on, Angelus.'

The words taunted Angel, but he kept up his slow circling. Spike dodged Angel's first thrust and swept the nunchaku at his legs, trying to bring him down. Angel hopped over it and, in a move Spike had taught him, caught it around one ankle and wrenched it out of Spike's hands. Spike was incandescent with rage but applied the same tactic; he dived through Angel's legs, flicked up, and attacked him from the rear - a move Angel had taught him and, given his extra suppleness and speed, one he had swiftly bettered him at.

They fought tooth and nail, fang and claw, for a long time. Both were tiring but desperate not to let their guard down for a second. One particularly hard blow of Angel's sent Spike into the corner of the room against the training mats. As he recovered, he saw something discarded and picked it up. He circled Angel, took advantage of Angel's temporary distraction as he heard the telephone ringing again, and swept Angel's feet from under him.

Spike straddled Angel's chest and opened the thing he had found in the corner… the bottle of holy water he'd teased Angel with before.

He meant it to drip onto Angel's chest, but when Angel saw what it was, he tried to dash the viol away. The contents of the small bottle went over Angel's face, most of it in his eyes.

He screamed and tried to wipe it away, only burning his forearm and hand in the process. He lashed out at Spike and knocked him off, grabbing the nunchaku. He got a lucky blow to Spike's head, splitting his scalp from hairline to temple. Spike screamed, too, and flung himself at Angel. He was surprised that Angel did not dodge out of the way. Angel only held his hands in front of his eyes, moaning.

Spike realised, with a pang of fear and guilt, that Angel was blind.

Spike expected Angel to give up now. He sat back, wiping the blood out of his eyes, waiting for Angel to ask for assistance. He was infuriated beyond belief when Angel swung the weapon for a second time and caught him across his raised knees. He howled in pain and pushed Angel over onto his back, but Angel flipped up and kicked him in the belly.

Spike realised, with a frisson of fear, that Angel could fight almost as well blind as he could with sight. He almost regretted taking him through the vision deprivation training. But Spike was not unduly worried. Wearing a blindfold and being in control was an entirely different thing to be in agony and blind. Spike pressed his advantage. He circled Angel, kicking at him lightly just to wind him up, make him realise he had lost. But Angel refused to go down. He went into a protective crouch, and the next time Spike kicked, grabbed his leg and twisted Spike painfully to the ground.

Spike snapped. 'You won't quit, will you? Angel, you can't win. But you can't admit I might just be better than you, can you?'

'You! Better than me? I made you!'

Spike stood up and backed away from Angel in horror. He'd done it. Angel had reverted back to the past. Whenever he felt threatened, there it was again... Sire... Childe... mine... I made you. Spike realised, with fury, that that's how Angel would always see him. It didn't matter how much he tried to be anything else to him, he would always be 'mine' in Angel's mind.

But Spike also realised that for the first time, he had Angel completely in his power. If there was abuse in this relationship, then the abuser had just changed places with the abused. Spike laughed at the irony, and the sound infuriated Angel, this fury blinding him just as effectively as the holy water continued to do.

Spike took his time. He circled Angel, twitching at him, tormenting him, pulling at his clothes, making small tears in them, so they started to peel away. He stripped the helpless, blind vampire, and all Angel could do was impotently run at him and score the very occasional strike back. Angel could not believe this was happening to him. He had rarely experienced the fear that comes with helplessness, and he did not like it. He did not like being stripped and exposed to Spike. He was in agony from his eyes and disorientated from the continual blows Spike was inflicting on him.

Finally, Angel snapped and lunged at Spike. Spike sidestepped and let Angel crash into the wall, straddling his back before he could get up again. He sat on Angel's naked thighs and put one hand down to open up his cheeks. Angel scrambled away, but Spike hit him with the nightstick: a blow that split his skull and sent him sprawling into the wooden floor. Spike was on him again. He leant down to whisper in Angel's ear. 'Shall I use the holy water, Angel? Make interesting lube, wouldn't it?'

'Let me up, Spike. If you touch me, I'll….'

'What, Angel? What you going to do then?' Spike put his hand back between Angel's cheeks and pushed his finger against the tight, puckered hole.

'No!' Angel's cry was hoarse, but desperate.

'Come on, Angel… I'm not gonna put a live rat in yer… that was one of your little peccadilloes with me, I seem to remember. But I'd like to make you scream like I used to. So, no lube then?'

Spike opened up his jeans and slid down Angel's body until he was poised above his entrance. He tried to push his penis against Angel's stretched cheeks but, to his horror, he was soft. For the first time in his entire life or unlife, Spike's penis was soft and unable to penetrate the strong ring of vampire muscle. He howled in frustration and hit Angel across the cheeks as if it were somehow his fault. In his howling, he heard another soft sound. Angel had his bleeding and swollen eyes buried in the crook of his arm and was sobbing quietly, as if he did not want to be heard.

Spike screamed in fur, distress and confusion. He picked up the nightstick. 'I'm gonna use this, you prick. Just like you did with me, hey Angelus? Remember all those sodding things you used on me? I do. I remember every one, and I can still feel them in me when I want to….' He tried to push the handle of the nightstick into Angel but, for some bizarre reason, he couldn’t see too well either. He put it down and wiped his arm across his eyes to clear them, and it came away swamped with blood and hot, salty tears. He went to pick the weapon back up again, but just didn’t have the heart. He was too tired. Too tired of life to bother. He lay down on Angel and buried his face into the skin on Angel's naked back. The blood from his scalp wound poured out, covering them both in a blanket of blood.

The only sound in the room was the sound of anguished sobbing, and Spike could not tell anymore if it was coming from him or from Angel.

After what seemed like hours, Spike heard a quiet, muffled voice. 'Why do we do this to each other, century after century? Why don't we just get the fuck out of each other's lives? It'd be healthier.'

Spike made no reply, but wiped his nose on Angel's back and sniffed.

Getting no response, Angel answered his own question. 'I gave you my demon, Spike. I'm not complete unless you are.…'

'Bollocks.' Spike slid off Angel and lay down on his stomach next to him. Their faces were only inches apart; Spike saw that Angel's eyes were now open, red and bleary maybe, but open and focused. 'Bloody bollocks, Angel. We just fancy each other, and neither of us has the balls to admit it.'

If Angel was taken aback by this complete dismissal of all vampire culture and lore, he didn't show it. He blinked painfully and said in a small, wondering voice, 'Fancy each other?'

'Yep. You can wrap it up in sire/childe shit, or rationalize it however you want, Angel, but the simple truth is, you fancy me, and I fancy you, and we want to shag each other blind. Always have, always will.' To prove his point he leant forward and gave Angel the first kiss they had ever shared.

His lips were hesitant at first. He was unsure of his reception. There was little they had not done to each other's bodies over the years, but they had never pressed their lips together in this intimate way. Angel was just as shy and awkward as Spike was.

They sat up, keeping their lips together, then Angel moved his hand to the back of Spike's head, and they seemed to plummet down into the sensation of the kiss. Spike opened his mouth and allowed Angel's tongue in. His hands came up to hold Angel; they started passionately trying to open their mouths more: to taste and feel more. Suddenly Spike pulled away and held Angel at arm's length.

'Fancy me?'

Angel rubbed his thumbs over Spike's cheekbones. He put a finger in Spike's mouth and watched his lips close over it. He brushed over Spike's eyes, making them close, spreading his long lashes down.

Spike heard a low chuckle. 'Yeah, I think I do.'

'Not Sire, not Childe, not Angelus, not William. I mean it, Angel. If you met me at a party, would you fancy me?'

'I don't go to… ow… yes. I would. Not your Sire, not my Childe, no demons. I’d want you.'

Angel pulled Spike to him and pressed his mouth again to those willing lips; he felt Spike grin against him and huffed when he pulled away again.


'How what?' He kissed playfully at Spike's hair and around his neck, turning him like clay under his hands.

'What would you think, if you saw me. What bit would you want?'

Angel didn't hesitate. 'Your hands. I'd want your hands on me.'

'My hands?' Spike was genuinely amazed and held them up, turning them around, looking at them. 'Why?'

Angel shrugged, embarrassed. 'They've kind of been on me - in my mind - every time I've….' He gave a shy grin.

'Well, what'd'ya know!'

'What about me then, Spike. Why would you want of me, if you saw me at this party I'm not at?'

'Not your dancing skills, I'm thinking, luv.'

'No. Probably not. What then?'

'All of you.'

'Cheat. You have to name a part. I did.'

'Angel, it's not cheating; it's true. I can't separate you into bits. You're too all-enveloping.'

'You're trying to say I'm fat, aren't you?'

'No, I'm trying to say you are like my light. I can't separate your colours. I just see the whole.'

'Huh.' Angel was genuinely pleased and pulled Spike into his arms, leaning back against the wall, just cradling him and working at the bloodied mat that was his hair.

'Sorry 'bout the eyes.'

'Good move. You should have capitalized on it more.'

'Tried to. Had a little problem down below.'

'Is it better?'

'Oh yeah.'




'On your own again?'

'What do you think?'

'I think you've got temporary insanity from being bested by me in a fight, and you're gonna sober up in a minute and get back into good brood-boy mode and worry about that bleedin’ soul of yours. That's what I think.'

'So, I should make some new rules then?'

Spike groaned. He knew it would come to this. He was sick of fucking rules that didn't allow him to fuck. 'Go on then.'

'Okay. Rule one. You keep those hands of yours on me as much as possible day and night without it being illegal. Fuck, who cares, illegal too. Rule two. I get to show you that the light has lots of colours and separates into different parts quite easily. Rule three….'

'Rule three… you talk less and kiss more?' Angel could hardly help but agree to this. They continued to kiss all the way down to the bathroom. They tried to kiss as Spike undressed and joined Angel under the hot water. They had to stop for a while as Spike's mouth was otherwise engaged on Angel's body, but neither of them commented on this early breaking of the rules.

Spike took Angel's penis in his hand and held it out so the hot water washed over it, stimulating it. He eased the tight foreskin back so the cascade washed over the sensitive tip. He felt Angel’s hands bracing on his shoulders and smiled. He had returned to his childe role relatively quickly, and he didn’t give a fuck. He’d have been here anyway. He imagined being at that party, seeing Angel, taking him into a back room, and kneeling to him like this: just strangers that wanted each other. It turned him on to imagine it, and he stood up slowly, licking Angel’s wet body, telling him the fantasy. Angel took Spike’s face in his hands and started kissing him again.

‘Hmm... you like the idea of me going down on you, don’t you luv? Strangers at a party, hey?’

‘Yeah... what’s your name?’

Spike grinned; now, this Angel was fun. ‘Whatever you want it to be.’

‘Just want you to suck me.’

So, Spike dropped once more to his knees like a willing slave. The water fell over him, plastering his hair to his scalp; he cupped Angel’s ass in his hands, pulling him closer. He placed his tongue against the tiny slit in the tip of Angel’s cock and pulled the foreskin back over them both. He swirled his tongue round and knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that Angel was remembering their first time, too. Angel’s hands tightened on Spike’s shoulders, drawing blood. Spike relaxed his throat and let Angel push in. Angel’s wet curls rubbed against Spike’s face as he formed a seal with his lips and started long, slow movements up and down.

‘That’s good; that’s so good.’ Angel began to work himself against Spike’s mouth. He took his hands off and braced himself on the wall behind. Now he could thrust hard; now he could work towards his own release. Spike felt used and abused, and he loved it. He wanted that hard spurting in his throat. He wanted to swallow Angel’s seed. The wanting made it good. The wanting made the difference. Angel started to groan with a low, urgent sound that made Spike’s spine tingle. He felt a rush of sperm start up Angel’s thick column. As the cold, viscous fluid hit his throat, Spike stopped moving and let Angel find his own rhythm and release. It took him many minutes to lose all his seed and, by the time he was finished, Angel’s arms were twitching with the effort of holding himself up against the wall. But not so much that he couldn’t pull Spike to standing, grab his wrist, and manhandle him into his bedroom.

Spike started to protest until Angel pushed him onto the bed and slid between his legs. Spike raised them slightly, puzzled. Did Angel want to enter him already? Even Angel usually took a few moments to recover from an orgasm like the one he had just enjoyed.

Spike was amazed and delighted when Angel placed a soft lick across his balls and up his hard penis. He sat up and looked at him with a questioning look.

Angel gave a shy grin and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Said I fancied you.’

‘You carry on then, mate. There’s a first time for everything.’

‘Err... Spike....’

Spike pulled Angel in for a kiss, so neither of them could speak for a while but, eventually Angel pulled away and gave Spike another shy look. ‘Show me how?’

Spike laughed. ‘This really is your first time? Not just with me? With anyone?’

‘Well, it’s not really a Sire’s place, is it?’ Spike knew that it had taken Angel a lot to admit this. He was finally letting go of the past.

With a smile, Spike pulled Angel onto the bed with him and swiveled around so they lay at each other’s cocks. ‘Just follow me, poof.’

So, Spike started again on Angel’s cock, and every move Spike made, Angel copied. When Spike gently took Angel’s balls in his mouth and swirled them around, pressing and kneading them with his tongue, he felt his balls taken into Angel’s mouth, followed by that same sweet playing. He hadn’t realised how difficult it was going to be trying to work Angel when all he wanted to do was scream his own pleasure.

He nibbled lightly on Angel’s foreskin and felt Angel’s penis swell again. His was already hard, like steel, and responded urgently to Angel’s blunt, human teeth. Spike relaxed his throat and took Angel to the back wall. He waited for Angel to copy this move and had to smile - as much as he could given his mouth was rather stretched already - when his penis only got part way into Angel’s mouth. He released Angel and sat up a bit, tapping on the damp brown head lightly.

‘Err... Angel.’

Angel sat up too, his pupils were dilated, and he was clearly enjoying this experience. ‘You’ve gotta relax, luv. Imagine you’re swallowing a huge throatful of fresh, warm, human blood.’ He saw Angel start to frown, ‘Course, it’d be from a blood bank - stuff they didn’t want or something!’ His swift backtrack was not lost on Angel, and he smiled faintly at Spike.

‘It’s not going to easy for me, Spike....’

‘Sure it is, just open your throat....’

‘Not that. That, I can probably manage. But....’ he looked down almost nervously. ‘How do I reconcile this with my redemption? Why have I struggled and resisted for so long, if I just give in to pleasure now?’

‘Dunno, pet, but if you could just concentrate here a bit....’ Spike returned to Angel’s cock and sucked him like he was trying to suck Angel’s broodiness and doubt out through that tiny slit. It appeared to work, too; Angel watched him for a moment then returned to Spike’s cock, opened up his throat like he was told to - perhaps imagining biting some soft, unwilling flesh - and swallowed. Spike’s scream of pleasure around Angel’s cock made such an incredible sensation on the hard flesh that Angel had no choice but to copy that, too, and howled against Spike’s hard shaft.

It was too much for both of them. Spike came first: great heaving thrusts of sperm into Angel’s throat, followed swiftly by Angel’s release in him.

They lay gently sucking on each other, until Spike slid up and around to kiss Angel’s mouth instead. Then he put his head theatrically down onto Angel’s chest and pretended to be listening to something there.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Listening to your soul singing hallelujah.’

‘Don’t think it can do that. Think that would burn me up from the inside. Still can’t hold a cross or touch holy water - as you’ve discovered.’

‘But there’s no sign of it going, is there?’

Angel had to admit that he felt just as soulful as he had before swallowing a copious amount of Spike’s cum.

‘So... whose rules better then?’

‘You are getting increasingly cheeky. Just because I am not allowed to mention the fact that I am your, you know what, and you are my, the other, does not mean that I am not just better, older, and wiser than you. So stop being cheeky.’

‘What... this kind of cheeky?’ Spike pushed Angel’s thighs up and opened up his cheeks with both hands. Angel’s hole lay tight and closed, pink and inviting against the otherwise white flesh. Angel pushed up on his elbows to watch, as Spike’s tongue licked around the untouched entrance. ‘Never done this either, have you?’

‘No. You know I haven’t.’

‘Want to?’

‘Good party this.’

‘Oh yeah, I know the best places to be.’

‘I’ll come again then.’

‘Count on it.’ Spike pushed a wet finger into Angel’s hole and moved it gently around. Angel’s eyes flew open wide, and he arched back onto the bed. ‘Like that?’

‘Hmm... move it more.’

Spike added another finger but then pulled out, kissed Angel, ran into the bathroom, grabbed the first stuff he could find, and ran back in, inserted both fingers again, and took up where he had left off - before Angel had even drawn breath to complain.

‘Want to try even more?’

‘Want you.’

Spike removed his fingers and took a large scoop of the expensive moisturiser and covered his semi-hard penis. ‘You want to give me a little stiffening hand here, Angel? Feel free.’

Angel grinned and sat up again, putting his hand between Spike’s thighs, pressing up so Spike’s balls were pressed in, moving his hand around, creating almost unbearable friction. He licked over Spike’s collarbone and whispered against his neck, ‘Let me in.’ Spike hissed and stretched back and felt a pinprick as Angel’s fangs entered his artery. The blood loss instantly stiffened him. Angel’s hand continued to press up against him, pressing him into the bite, the bite forcing him down onto the massaging hand. Spike was kneeling between two places of pure pleasure. But he wanted to give pleasure to Angel and let him experience his first time. He pushed Angel’s hand away and eased him off his neck, pushing him back down onto the bed. With the slick, easy entry of a hand into a silk glove, he pushed into the tight, smooth hole.

‘Push back against me, pet. Try to squeeze me out; it’ll make it easier for you.’ Angel complied, and Spike felt himself falling forwards as he embedded himself deeply in Angel. He kept his cock still for a few minutes but pulled Angel’s face up to be kissed and petted. ‘You okay? Feel good?’

Angel only whispered in his ear, ‘Can I change my mind about which part of you I like the most?’

Spike chuckled, ‘You can do anything you want, Angel. That’s the advantage of being dead.’ And with that, he started very slow, very drawn out movements in and out of Angel’s ass. He experimented to see if Angel liked him pulling out all the way, and when Angel groaned in pleasure, played with him for a while, just pushing the head of his cock in and out, teasing the sensitive ring. When Angel started thrashing from side to side, Spike pushed in deeply again and found that small, soft swelling to work against. Angel flung his arm over his face, but Spike pulled it away. He wanted to watch Angel’s face as he came. He lifted Angel’s legs and put them over his shoulders, holding onto the backs of Angel’s thighs, and started jerking and working Angel’s hole.

‘Like letting a stranger fuck you, do you? Turn you on to do this at a party, does it? Just think, your precious humans are just outside that door, Angel. Maybe they know why you came in here to be with me... what do you think? Did they see the look I gave you? Did they feel it, too?’

Angel groaned, lost in the fantasy.

‘Maybe it’s not just me tonight, hey? Maybe you’re gonna lie here and open yourself up like a fucking mine to be shafted by everyone. Like to do that? Want me to watch? Do you like being a bitch, stranger? Tell me.’

Spike took Angel’s hand and guided it to the urgent cock lying between them, smiling that Angel was so lost to the new sensation he had not thought to do this himself. He helped Angel form a fist and kept his hand there, too, helping Angel work himself.

‘Come on, luv, tell me how you like it. Want me to stop?’ Spike grinned when Angel’s eyes flew open and he groaned in reply.

‘No... harder, I want more.’

‘Hmm, more like this?’ Spike slammed into Angel’s ass as if he could thrust him into the mattress. He felt something tear deep inside Angel and felt warm blood coat his cold penis. They both howled in delight, and Angel’s cock swelled in response to the pain and spurted thick, ropey strands of cum over his naked chest, the last few spurts running over their joined fists.

‘Fuck, Angel, I’m cuming....’ Spike thought he would crush Angel with his pounding; he could picture his release, so close now. When he felt his cum rushing down his shaft, he howled once more and was joined again by Angel, as the torn walls of Angel’s tunnel were cooled and coated by the thick, shooting liquid.

Angel watched Spike’s face contorted in pleasure above him. He suddenly knew that if his soul were ever to experience a moment of true happiness with another demon, it would just like this, now. It would be watching Spike getting off inside him. It was Spike having release and pleasure in him. It was a revelation to Angel who had always thought the happiness had to be his release.

Finally, Spike collapsed onto Angel’s belly with a soft laugh. ‘Fuck. I’m done for.’

‘Party pooper.’ Angel pulled the covers over them and wrapped his arms around Spike’s back. Spike covered him like an extra blanket: heavy and unmoving. Angel started to run one finger down Spike’s spine from his hairline to the small of his back. He could feel every vertebra. On one run down he went lower, in between Spike’s cheeks to rub over Spike’s hole. That brought an amused comment from the quiet vampire lying on him. ‘Feeling on surer ground there?’

‘Hmm... been here once or twice, I do recall.’

‘So do I.’

‘Recall good, or recall bad now?’

‘Now, Angel, I think you were my saviour, and I’d have died again for you if you had asked me to.’

‘Don’t overdo it, Spike. Losing the sincerity there a bit.’

‘Yeah, well. Anything to keep you from brooding on the past. I don’t want broom handles up there, and I don’t want anything with whiskers - I'll give you those two - but other than that? It was all good far as I remember.'

'Hmm, did you used to lie there leaking afterwards, like I am now?'

'Yeah, why?'

'Did you feel empty after I'd pulled out?'

Spike sat up a bit on Angel's chest and smiled at him. 'Again, yes… why the third degree?'

'Just wondering why I left it so long to let you take me like this.'

'Cus you're a stupid git?'

Angel's finger pushed into Spike and started moving round. 'I had no idea what this felt like, did I?'

'You could have seen it… fuck… in my face… oh, God… like now.'

'Never took the time to look.'

'Take it now.' So Angel did. He stared at Spike's face as it responded to the finger inside him. Spike held his gaze, not embarrassed to show Angel how good this felt to him. Eventually Angel could bear it no longer, and he pushed Spike off his chest.

'Hands and knees now.'

Spike obeyed; he wanted it as much as Angel did. Both of them needed this familiarity, perhaps, after so much progress. To Angel, it was like coming home after a long, long journey in unfamiliar lands. He knew the feel of this backside, hard against his hips, so well. He knew how Spike's sac felt, swinging heavy and soft under him; he knew the feel of that tight ring, and just how much pressure to put on it to slide in. He knew the feel of these tight walls and that soft swelling that engaged the veined underside of his cock. What he did not know so well was the soft sound of Spike's low, pleasured moaning. That he had rarely heard when buggering his childe like this. He was more used to cries and harsh panting of torn out curses.

'Moan some more, Spike. I like that. It really turns me on.'

Spike raised his head a little. He had never heard Angel talking like that in a quiet, erotic voice when they did this. If he had talked at all, it had been accompanied by harsh laughter and insincere endearments to maintain his complicity. Spike felt completely overwhelmed by the knowledge that Angel was now seeing him, not as his childe, his plaything or his possession, but actually as a lover and an equal.

He tried to moan as Angel had wanted, but it caught in his throat and came out as more of a sob. Angel stopped his slow, thoughtful stokes in Spike's ass and put a reassuring hand around him, pulling him up against his chest. He put his mouth to Spike's ear. 'What's wrong?'

Spike turned in his embrace, and Angel saw tears at the corners of his eyes. He gave a small chuckle. 'Thought you were a big bad demon, Spike.'

'Thought I was, too. What's happening? Get a fucking rat out, Angel, I'm losing it here, big time.'

'Hmm… lose it some more then….' Angel started thrusting harder, squeezing Spike to him as he thrust in. It was not the easiest position for him to get maximum pleasure, but it enabled him to reach Spike's mouth and kiss him. It let him feel Spike crushed in his arms. But Spike wanted more and, with a chuckle, he thrust into Angel, knocking him onto his back. Spike repositioned himself on Angel's cock, leaning forward to grasp Angel's ankles. Angel lay on his back and watched Spike's back as he rode him. He had a perfect view of his thick penis slipping in and out of Spike's stretched hole. It was a deep shade of purple against the pale flesh surrounding it. The thick veins pulsed with the pleasure Spike was giving it; it glistened from the copious precum it was bathed in. Angel put his hands lightly onto Spike's hips and let them ride up and down with him. He knew Spike was working his own cock, too. He wanted to watch, but didn't want to take his eyes of the sight of his own shaft, working like a piston into Spike's ring.

He felt himself coming again and sat up a bit. 'Harder, Spike… harder.' When Spike could get no more contact, no better position, Angel pushed him over onto his hands and knees again and thrust into the stretched, willing hole. Spike stayed still and let Angel do all the work. He knew Angel was concentrating only on his own pleasure now, and that was right and fitting. Spike wanted to feel Angel come in him; it gave him pleasure to receive Angel's seed. He grinned in delight when he heard Angel's explosive cry and felt a cold liquid wash around his bowels. Angel emptied himself for a long time into Spike. He rode his slim, hard ass as if they were joined, as if his shaft were forever impaled and shooting its load into this willing receptacle. Finally, Angel was exhausted. He fell, crushing Spike under him, his cock still buried deep in his ass.

Spike felt completely immersed in Angel. Their bodies seemed to melt into each other, dissolving in the potent fluids that covered their skin.

Before Angel drifted into sleep, he heard Spike murmour a low comment. He rolled off and spooned himself against Spike's belly. 'What?'

'Did you feel it, Angel, before the fight. Did you want to kill me?'


'Me too - I thought only one of us was gonna make it to tomorrow… only one body get out of there. Scary, hey?'

Angel wrapped Spike's arms around his chest and spread Spike's hands, looking at his fingers, playing with them. 'I don't know, Spike… seems to me now, maybe only one did.'

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