Angel POV / Spike
something wrong. I sense it, but I can't work out what it is. Outwardly we're
OK. Sure, he doesn't let on to anyone else what we are, what we have, what we
do. He's still the Dark Avenger, sex- God on legs, Mr Brood features to his
friends and clients. Only to me is he the funny, wild, besotted demon with the
face of an Angel and the body of a god. Yeah, honestly, funny and wild. He is.
You'd just have to be there. You'd just have to be there when he pounces on
me when I'm trying to watch TV. You'd have to be there when he makes me eat
ice-cream off his stomach. You'd have to be there when he cries cus he can't
save the world. When he can't save himself. Yeah, at those times he is all mine.
But there are times lately when he is shutting himself off, even from me. When
we make love, he's restrained. He'll do stuff. Oh Yeah, Angel'll do stuff till
stuff is coming out of every orifice. It's not that. It's that it's as if he's
not there. In his head. In his heart. He's there in body only. And that's a
real pisser. And I'm not having that.
This is getting increasingly difficult. It was OK to start with. I was OK with it. Sure, I kept it all secret. No way am I going to admit to Cordy or Wes what Spike and I are, do, have together. They see me as Buffy's ex. Brood guy. Quiet, but manly. How could I explain that I am fucking the hyperactive vampire I've taken into my apartment? How could I ever face them again? And that's the source of my problem. I am not gay. So what am I doing fucking Spike? It's a real dilemma. You've just got to admit that. I mean, it didn't used to be a problem. Angelus had no problem whatsoever fucking Spike. Shit, he would have fucked himself if he could have bent enough. But Angelus is just an echo in my mind, a force rumbling constantly in my belly. I am Angel. And I do not fuck men. And this is really starting to affect my... what can I say? Performance.
He'll do it. But he isn't enjoying it. Not really. He'll get lost in the moment when the moment comes over him. But up to that point? Up to that point, it's `must avoid going there' and `woops, shouldn't have done that', and that, as you can imagine, is a bit of a passion killer. And I do know what it is really. It's just that I don't want to have to deal with that. Cus that is gonna be kinda hard to overcome. Angel is more man, than demon. And as a man, he is not gay. Now this is not a problem I have. I'm all demon. I'm just chipped. Chip doesn't affect the fact that I can't be doing with human gender obsessions. Far as I'm concerned – Spike needs relief, Spike sticks it somewhere. Anywhere. Shit, I fucked Harm for months, so that shows yer I'm not choosy. Now I actually choose to be here with Angel cus... hey? Why do I choose to be here and take this shit? Oh, yeah. I remember, free blood, big bed, hot shower, and, there's something else. YesokIlovethetosser. Happy? So, this is something I really have to help him get over. I don't want Angelus back in any incarnation. But I want the little slice of Angelus that would fuck a goat if said goat was: standing, alive and... well, actually scratch the last one there. Anyway, I want `gender- free, I love Spike,' very small bit of Angelus to be reanimated in Angel. So, plan A ...
Shit, plan A was a complete disaster. Things have gone from bad to worse. Now the tosser won't even toss. He's reluctant even to kiss anymore. OK, well he will KISS. He just doesn't like the biting and the thrusting and the blood pouring down his throat. GOD, I could fuck a human if this is all I'm going to get. And that really would be desperate.
All I did was point out to him some perfectly reasonable examples of gender-free pairings. As a plan, it was good. Rather fell down in the execution though. Timing. I think the timing was bad. We were sitting in the car in a gas station waiting for Cordy to come out of the Ladies. So we'd both hunkered down for a fairly long wait. And I thought, "Great! Bring plan A subtly to fruition." I introduced the problem in a caring and sharing kinda way.
"Why won't yer shag me then, mate?"
I thought as an opening gambit it was appropriate, but Angel just couldn't see the subtlety of the approach and kinda winced. And I was just gonna move onto me next point when the convenient, but ultimately unfortunate, incident occurred.
It was awful. We were sitting quietly together in the car waiting for Cordy, and I was just thinking how mature we were both being about my err... problem, when he just came out and said it. I mean, it was a bolt out of the blue, and I'd just composed a suitable and mature reply when he suddenly grabbed my arm and started hysterically shouting.
It seemed like the perfect example, so I grabbed Angel and made him look, too. But he sorta went funny, kinda green lookin' and it just didn't help one bit. I mean, those dogs were going at it something fierce. Did they care they were both hung like donkeys? Did they go, `Oh, I'm not gay, I couldn't possibly shag yer in this gas forecourt.' NO! They did not. They did what any respectable, horny creature does with no soul and a healthy appetite. They climbed up, hung on and did the biss. But `oh, my hair-gel's melting, but I'm not gay', Sire could not see this at all.
Dogs. Fucking male dogs, fucking. He's just tried to liken us to dogs going at it in the dirt. AND HE THINKS THAT'S GOING TO HELP!
Plan B. Not quite sure what plan B should be. I've tried the perfectly natural approach of, `There's more to life than male/female'. Dogs were perfect. So what now? Oh yeah. Good one Spike. This is sure to work.
Fuck. He's moved onto the couch now. Plan B was spectacularly bad, even for me. Almost put me off wanting a shag meself. It hasn't of course. But almost. I got the atmosphere just right. I even bought some sodding candles. And you have NO idea how embarrassing it is for the Big Bad to go into a bloody candle shop. But I did it. I even bought wine. OK, I drank said wine to get over having to buy candles. But we had beer. It was the thought that should have counted. And it did at first. He was in a really good mood. We ate. We drank. We had beer. We settled down to watch the movie.
Oh God, burn out my eyes so I may never see that again. How could a man so fat get it up so high, and how did he manage to find that other ass amongst all that cheek hair? And the musak and that grunting. Oh God. Does Spike really want me to be like that?
Fucking, cheap, whoring, porn movie! I knew I shouldn't have picked the one out from the bargain bin. No wonder it was a fucking bargain. If I hadn't have spent all me soddin' money on bloody scented candles I wouldn't have had to rent `Homer fucking Simpson does Chief Wiggins in technicolour'. With grunting. I mean are those guys failed Het porn stars, or are they actually chosen cus they're so hairy and fat? Jees, makes you think there might be an opening for me there. So, plan B, to get him into the idea of being gay was a flop. Literally. Didn't even get a cuddle after that one. Plan C.
I think I need to bring out the big guns here. And what's the biggest gun I know? Me, of course. So, onto plan C.
Now, plan C is gonna depend on getting him to go so far. Just far enough you understand, for my natural charms to do the rest. So, I've gotta get him back into bed and desperate. Shouldn't be too hard. Have you seen me?
He's been incredibly brave, but I know he's more injured than he will admit. I can't leave him alone tonight in case he needs me. So when he's asleep, I creep into the bedroom and slide in alongside him. He's deeply asleep, it can't hurt just this once. Oh shit. He's just turned over in his sleep and thrown the sheet off him and he's spread eagled on his back and his beautiful cock is... NO! Don't think like that. He's a man. Well, actually, he's not. He's the demon that killed the man. No, I'm the demon that killed that man. No, wait, I'm a man now and the demon that killed me is... oh shitting, fuck. I lean over and lick the tip of his cock. I can't help it. I don't care what I am, what he is, he is just Spike, and I'd be fucking blind not to want him. Hell, even dead people would want to fuck Spike. Oh, I am dead. Well there you are. Proved my point.
Plan C has been an undoubted success so far. Poor little old Spikey wikey; so badly injured. Couldn't walk at one point. Had to be carried. Even got him to let me watch all of Passions without any sarcy comments. But then I felt a bit... you know... woozy and wanted to be put to bed. So he did. Hah, made sure he got lots of peeks of Spike's smooth skin, and Spike's long legs and Spike's hard cock. Did the trick just fine. Crowning moment of course? The old, `throwing off of the sheets trick'. Ever tried it? It's a winner, every time. Course he fell for it. He's a man, ain't he?
So things have been looking up ever since. Plan C has been filed away for future reference. And that's the problem now. I have no intention of this little problem ever reoccurring. I think Angel has to get in touch with his real self. He needs to come to terms with what he really is. We are about to have a little Born Free of the Demon variety. Let's let the demon out to play.
Sometimes I don't know how to face Cordy and Wes in the evenings when I think of what I've just been doing with Spike. Been doing all day with Spike. No wonder I seem like brood boy. So uncomfortable all the time. So would you if you had just had your cock up Spike's ass for hours. It's just going to take some adjusting too. But I'm trying.
I have to give the old Sire credit, he is trying. He doesn't have a problem now with the licking, or the sticking, or the biting, or the sucking, or any of the other acts. But I'm still not convinced he's fully reached his potential. Angelus used to be much more inventive if I remember rightly, and as I have 100% vampire recall, I know that I do. Oh yes, I remember just fine. Thank you. Don't want the whips, don't want the cock rings, don't want the pain. Want the fun stuff. Want inventive good. Want inventive nice. Plan D. Or am I on plan E. Fuck it. It's important. Got to get your plans right. Until you get bored of them of course. Then they can go to hell. Plan D then.
Now plan D is very simple. I just have to show Angel what he really knows for himself. Hey, guess what? I'm going to facilitate. Ouch.
It's all going as usual, and even I have to admit that this is very nice. I've just sucked Spike off for an hour or so, and he really seemed to enjoy that. I'm OK with this. I really am. Now he's lying along side me and he's repaying the favour. Strange, he's moving. Not taking his mouth off my cock. But definitely moving. He's clever that way. Oh, now that's different. Now he's sitting on my chest, facing away from me and still sucking me off. But as I'm propped up on the headboard his... oh God... that's... oh.
Hah, the eagle has fucking landed. Plan D. Facilitation rocks. Cus I'm straddled on his chest and I'm facing away from him, sucking him like a liquorices allsort and he's sorta propped up on the pillows, so I bend down the small of my back, arch my butt into the air and spread my legs as wide as they'll go. And bingo.
His perfect round puckered hole is inches from my face. And he's so engrossed in what's he doing, I don't even think he's realized. It's all mine. Like a little playground of my own. So what can I do? I have to play.
Well, the candle fitted in quite well. Didn't like the bit there when he debated whether to blow it out or not. Pity it was the only thing he found to hand. I should have planned better. Could've been Plan D-1. Shit, planning's complicated. Cus candle proved a bit difficult to get out again. But let me tell you, that only adds to the fun. And the best thing about plan D? Plan D is ongoing. He's finally getting inventive. The other day Cordelia found some frozen strawberries in the top of the fridge an' asks Angel, "What are these for?" You should have been there. I swear on my dead mother's life – I can you know, cus I killed her – I swear without even blinking an eye, the ole Sire says "They're for Spike."
Now, is that the Angel you've come to know? Told ya, all ya need is facilitation.
I spend most nights in our new position now and he just plays away. And the strawberries were good. Especially after he'd dipped them in chocolate. As I say, easy to get in. Not so easy to get out again. Especially when they started to go soggy.
It's endlessly fascinating. It's an endless game. Tonight I tried strawberries. Frozen. I wanted to see how many I could get in. Quite a lot as it worked out. At least ten, I kind of lost count, because I was concentrating on the way the chocolate melted when I pushed them gently past that tight outer muscle. His tiny puckered hole just closes right over after they go in. No sign of what's in there. What I've put in there. It's beautiful. But it got a bit messy when I couldn't get them out again. At the end I had to get three fingers in there. But after a lot of wriggling, I coped. He didn't seem to mind. Seem to remember him screaming my name at one point. So that's good. He likes strawberries. Vitamin C must be good, even for Vampires.
I don't even need to move onto my next plan now, cus I think Angel has a plan all of his own. And how do I know this? Well, I was just doing my weekly raid of his wallet, as you do, and I found the receipt. Harry's. $250. Now there is quite a lot you can buy at Harry's for $250. And all of it's good.
I don't know whether I'll be able to carry this out. Not sure I'm ready for this. But I had to buy them. They bought themselves really. They spoke to me. There I was, making a real effort. In Harry's . Sure, I thought, I can come to terms with fucking Spike. I can realise my potential here. I'll buy him a treat. Something he'll enjoy. And just as I was heading to the, `any thing as long as it's got lots of sugar section', there they were. I saw the one in the blue box first. I only glanced at it. But it said, "Wesley", as clear as day to me. And, God, the one next door in the yellow box said, "Giles". So here I am. Spike is wriggling around in our favorite position. I've been playing with his tight little hole for a while and Wesley and Giles are screaming at me from under the bed where I stashed them earlier.
What is he doing back there? He's just messing around. He's licked, he's used his fingers, but now he's brooding. Bet it's about whatever the fuck he's bought at Harry's. God, he is so transparent. This doesn't even deserve a plan. All this needs is something a lot simpler.
Ohhhh, he's just nipped the tip of my cock and he's lapping at the blood on the engorged end. Oh fuck it, I'm so hard and I... where are they?
That's better, he's got something out from under the bed. Kinda exciting this. You've got to open yourself up to new experiences, and I'm hoping I'm gonna be really well opened up in a minute.
It's just a fantasy. But it's been going round in my head, and it makes me so horny. When Spike comes into the office and Wes is there it starts, and I can't help it. The fantasy always starts after a drinking bout and Spike has passed out, (hey, I based this fantasy on some reality after all!), and Wes and Giles are there for some reason and... and...
"Well, Mr Giles, this is a dilemma. Spike is out cold on the couch. We really ought to get him to bed you know."
"Err yes, you're quite right Wesley, and do call me Giles. You know, I am beginning to see what Angel sees in Spike. He really is rather attractive from this angle."
"Do you think we should undress him? He won't be very comfortable otherwise."
"Oh, I'm quite sure we should. There, that's much better." "Oh, I say, he really is rather beautiful, just look at that rear end, so perfect and so..."
"Do you know, I've never actually had the opportunity to try something. One would think I had, top public school and all that. But I never had... never did... but do you think Spike would mind if I did now?"
"I'm sure he'd be only too happy to oblige."
What the hell is he doing back there? He's still brooding, the tosser. He's got something in his hand and from what I can see from this position – which is not much given I've got Angel's cock in my mouth - he's sort of waving it around.
"Well, here goes then, Wesley. What should I do first? Maybe I'll just dive off the deep end and thrust it in, seems like the best idea. Ahh"
What the FUCK! He's just rammed a 10" sodding, plastic cock up my ass! What the soddin' hell is he thinking?
"Giles, I really think it's my turn now you know."
"Quite right, old chap, sorry. There, in you go."
I don't believe it. He's pulled that one out and now he's swirling the tip of a second cock against my hole. He'd better not... shit. He did.
"Oh, this is quite incredible. I never realised how different this would be. Ohh, how embarrassing... I didn't realise quite how long it's been, I think I'm gonna cum, right now!"
"No, for goodness sake Wesley, pull out. Oh, that's rather splendid. We'll have to clean Spike up later. But right now, I'd like to... oh, he's all slippery now and I can't hold back...
And that does it for me, I'm so close to exploding now, I roughly push Spike off me, chuck the cocks onto the bed, plant my hand in the small of Spike's back pushing him hard into the mattress, and I thrust into him with a scream of desire, the fantasy spinning round in my mind. I picture Giles' cock thrusting into him, see its engorged length moving in and out. I imagine I'm Wesley looking on, fascinated to see such a beautiful hole being stretched and worked. And then with Giles and with Wes and with every man, I cum, hard into Spike, and I'm screaming his name.
I think the ole Sire has finally come to terms with fucking me. We are tangled together on the bed, he's over me, under me, still in me. Limp now, but still there. He's too spent to care or move. I want to ask him what tonight has been about. Cus I wanted inventive. Not substitutes. But I don't want to ruin this coming to terms. I don't want to ask him questions he won't, or can't answer. He's a private man and I have a feelin' he may not be able to share this with me. It was his fantasy. And who has the balls to share their most private fantasies?
"Move over." Shit, he's retreating again, pushing me away. "Why?"
"Cus you're lying on Wesley."