the Fire in Which we Burn - Chapter 7
Spike made a stealthy return
to the hotel, not wanting to be noticed or cross-examined. As before, he spent
the day in bed, but just before he could make another early evening escape, there
was a light knock on his bedroom door. Knowing exactly who was there, he said
softly, 'Just a minute,' dived out of bed and pulled on some jeans. ''K.'
Angel opened the door, but did not actually come into the room. 'Stranger.'
Spike gave a small shrug. 'Been busy.'
'Wanna be busier? Vamp nest.'
Spike gave a shy smile. 'I'll just shut up and fight this time.' He pulled on
a shirt and sat to tug on his boots. Angel came further into the room. He idly
picked up one of Spike's rings that was lying on the dresser and tried it on,
by his expression not really thinking about its fit. He turned and gave Spike
a surreptitious glance, thrown when he found Spike watching him closely. They
both turned back to what they were doing. After a few moments, Angel said, his
back still turned, 'Spike…?'
It was not much encouragement, but Angel ploughed on nevertheless. 'We've known
each other a long time.'
'Longer than most.'
'Have I ever really known you? Or you me…?'
Silence greeted this hesitant question, and Angel turned to find a quizzical look
on Spike's face. He frowned and added, 'I find it hard to say things - or so I've
been told. It….'
Angel glanced incredulously toward the door and murmured, 'Not fucking now!'
Spike, his boots finally on, stood. 'Just say it, Angel'
Angel opened his mouth. 'I-I….'
'Angel, man, you there?' Gunn skidded into the room. 'Gotta go, now. They've scattered.
All over the freaking hood.'
Without speaking further, the vampires followed the human out of the room. Angel
glanced at Gunn's back, laid a hand on Spike's arm and said softly, 'Stay safe.
There are things that need to be said.'
Spike frowned and nodded, but the words he longed to say to Angel only seemed
to stick in his throat more soundly.
They arrived at an abandoned warehouse. Although some of the vampires had dispersed,
a large number remained. They appeared to be partying, but the humans tried not
to look too closely at the buffet. They set about the killing, and it was long,
hot work. Spike fought on autopilot, this contest nothing new or particularly
hard for him. He was distracted, running through in his mind what Angel wanted
to talk about, why he was so hesitant, what it might mean for his own fragile
place in this new pack.
Without warning, something hit Spike hard on the back on the head, and he turned,
infuriated, lashing out at his attacker. Agony stabbed him, and he fell to his
knees, clutching his head in disbelief. He looked up at the vampires' human accomplice
and watched helplessly as the axe swept toward his neck. He closed his eyes at
the last minute, unwilling that this ugly face should be the last thing he saw,
so missed the human's slightly gory end. He felt hot blood splatter him though,
so snapped his eyes open just in time to see a head hitting the floor. The decapitated
torso still stood; Spike gave it a push, and it fell satisfactorily to join the
rolling head. Trying to ignore the intoxicating scent of wasting human blood,
Spike shrugged and gave Gunn a small grin of thanks. Gunn nodded and held out
his hand. Together they waded back into the fight, not noticing a pair of dark
eyes that had watched the scene from across the space, unable to help.
The last vampire went down with a satisfying amount of dust, and the group stood
triumphant in the wreckage of the fight. The humans moved together, comparing
opponents and generally unwinding with tasteless jokes at each other's expense.
Angel was looking down at his axe, apparently deep in thought. Spike went over
to him, rubbing his head where the human had hit him. He turned and looked amused
at the noisy group. 'You've a good… ugh.' He fell as Angel's slap backhanded him
viciously to the ground. 'What the…?' Angel pulled him up by the lapels of his
coat, ignoring the expressions on the shocked humans.
'You almost got killed.'
Spike's eyes widened. 'Almost being the key word there, I'm thinking!'
'You could have been….' He let Spike drop and turned away, striding over to the
car. Spike wiped the corner of his mouth and watched him leave.
Angel threw his axe angrily into the trunk of the car. Angry at Spike, furious
with himself, beside himself at everyone else, he didn't know where to put this…
fear. So close….
He climbed in, drumming his fingers on the wheel, waiting impatiently as his friends
rather nervously took their places. He waited. He turned. 'Where's Spike?'
Fred gave him a weak smile. 'He went off.'
Angel gritted his teeth and slammed the car into drive and screeched over the
deserted dock. His angry presence kept them silent on the way home.
Angel started to walk into the hotel when he got back then swore and got back
into the car. He screeched off once more, and his exit was greeted with sighs
of relief from the three tense humans. He drove the route he knew so well, parked
and tore up the stairs. He banged on the door. After a significant time, Wesley
answered, wet, a towel around his waist. 'Is she here?'
'Good. Let me in.'
Wesley stepped to one side. Angel stood as usual with his back to the room, leaning
on an arm, staring morosely out of the window, but this time he initiated the
conversation. 'He's making me weak.'
Angel turned at the flat comment. 'I nearly lost him tonight.'
'So, you've told him? You… actually have him.'
Angel did his best shifty look. 'No, but….'
'Fuck you, Angel.' Wesley went back into his bedroom. 'You interrupted a very
pleasant shower to tell me you're more of a coward than I…. Get out of my way.'
Angel stood his ground, a dark presence in the bedroom.
'I can't do weak, Wesley; you know that.'
Wesley took a small towel off the bed and began to rub at his hair, the effect
making the short dark strands stick up in all directions. 'It's not weakness,
Angel; it's vulnerability - an entirely different thing. You can't do strong without
'What?' Angel flicked out his hand and held Wesley's still, annoyed by domestic
actions at this time of such huge import. Wesley gave him a small, irritating
pat, infuriatingly not apparently seeing such great significance in the moment.
'You know, Angel? I just don't get the Christian vision of heaven, do you? Lions
lying down with lambs just aren't lions in any definition, are they?'
'Okay, and this is about me… how?'
Wesley smiled inwardly at the narcissism, but it was a very fond smile. 'You see,
I've always held that you can't have ultimate good without its balance: ultimate
evil. You can't have you as you are now without Angelus. You can't be strong without
being vulnerable. Without vulnerability, you can't empathise. Without empathy,
you can't be our champion.'
'Two more inches, Wes. If Gunn hadn't been there, Spike would….' Angel turned
and busied himself rearranging the items on Wesley's nightstand.
'Why haven't you told him?'
'I was going to. Tonight.'
'I hit him instead.'
'You bloody fool.'
'It was a very caring punch.'
Wesley put his hand on Angel's back, planning to give him another small pat, but
Angel turned and caught his hand. A look passed between them, but before Angel
could speak, Wesley shook his head fractionally. 'Go find him, Angel. Make this
The club was heaving. The music was deafening. The bodies were hot, and they wanted
him. He'd shed his duster in a safe place where he could retrieve it later and,
dressed only in shirt and jeans, he moved through the blue, writhing mass. Once
more, hands were on him, and it was so good. There was no confusion in what they
wanted - no unexpected pain, no rejection. Spike swelled to the knowledge that
in this place, he would never be rejected. He closed his eyes and let the bodies
hold him up. Arms, hands, chests, legs - all warm and alive and pumping blood
and simplicity in their need. He was kissed and warm tongues told him of his desirability.
He was held and strong arms reaffirmed that he existed, almost fooled him that
he too was alive.
He drank heavily, and when he'd taken in just the right amount, Angel left his
mind. Everything else did too, but he had peace from Angel for a while. Mindless,
he became all body in this place where only the physical was needed or wanted.
He noticed no one in particular until one man manoeuvred him over to the wall.
He pressed Spike to the cool tiles as if the slim body was made of rubber, and
its owner had no will. He moaned to the feel of Spike's unique physique under
his hands and opened his shirt to press his palms to Spike's nipples. Spike looked
down at the hands on him and laughed. The man kissed him, glad to smell the drunkenness,
anticipating where it would lead them. Spike closed his eyes to the kiss until…
it changed. He snapped his eyes open and tried to focus. A cool darkness enveloped
him, hiding him from the blue light. Strong hands held his and spread-eagled his
arms to the cool tiles, and now he was kissed by lips that were as ancient and
as seductive as his.
Spike blinked, and tears rolled down his face. He'd drunk too much. All thoughts
of Angel… drink... no thoughts of Angel… more drink… conjure Angel in this place.
He didn't want for this not to be Angel. He didn't want to sober and find the
unknown human kissing him.
Spike let out small confused sound when the lips lifted from him, but they swiftly
came back to capture the tears, licking them off his face. His arms were lowered
and pinned tightly to his side, and a quiet voice whispered in his ear, 'I'm taking
you home, now. Make a scene of any sort, and I'll punch you unconscious and carry
Spike jerked his head back with a cry. He swallowed deeply, utterly confused at
Angel's startling reality. 'For fuck's sake! Piss off! Why?'
Angel smiled and leant back to make sure that despite the volume of music, his
words would be heard. 'Because you are mine, and I'm fucking sick of smelling
other people on you. From this moment on, Spike, you'll smell only of me. Your
own man? Fuck that too. Mine. Now, move your sorry arse.' With a painful grip
on Spike's upper arms, Angel manoeuvred him through the dancing figures. One or
two customers went home that night with considerable bruising and a few sprains
as hands were chopped away and bellies punched. When they hit the night air, they
both reeled at the contrast. Spike bent over and put his head down for a moment,
groaning. Angel came closer, but he was waved away. When he straightened, Spike
looked more focused.
He sat on a low wall and felt his jaw gently. Angel did not miss the implication
and sat next to him. 'You weren't careful. I won't lose what's mine. I was angry.
'You said you'd never wanted me.'
'Jeez. No, I said I'd been waiting for you to be just that… you.'
Spike pouted and despite the slightly childish tone, said softly, 'No you didn't.'
'So, I'm suddenly like a dad to you?'
Spike gave him a small flash of a look. 'Touché. I thought that might hurt.'
'It did. I'm not heavy with the incest.'
Suddenly Spike tipped his head back and groaned in frustration. 'Jesus, Angel!
You've shagged your sire, your childe, your childe's childe, so I'm thinking incest
'Okay, I'll go with that. Kinda handy, since I'm gonna fuck you tonight.'
Spike jerked his head around but whatever he'd about to say or protest was lost
in Angel's mouth - just a small breath of speech dissipating in the strength of
Angel bruised Spike with his hands and bit his lip slightly as they kissed, drawing
blood. With a small groan, Angel eased his mouth away. 'We need to take this home.'
Spike sat back and gave him a long, searching look. Angel could tell some fundamental
decision was being made behind those blue eyes. Angel would have said they were
sad eyes, but that didn't seem likely, given he'd just told Spike what he had
been wanting to hear for a century and a half. The decision seemed to be taking
an inordinately long time. Angel frowned and, at his look, Spike said softly,
'Tell me again, Angel… what you said in there.'
'It's simple, Spike: you're mine, and I intend to have you.'
He got up and shook his shoulders. 'I need to get me coat. I'm not right without
This wasn't the hot urgency Angel wanted, but he waited while Spike returned to
On the way back, distracted by the heavy traffic, Angel could only cast a few
anxious glances at his passenger. Spike sat with one ankle crossed over his knee,
staring out into the dark, his hair blowing and ruffled slightly by their passage.
When they got back, the hotel was deserted. Angel came up behind Spike and wrapped
his arm around his neck, whispering softly, 'My room, now.' Spike nodded, but
then twisted in Angel's arms and pushed him back against the counter.
He gave Angel one, intense look, searching his eyes for something then hung his
head. 'All right.'
At that slightly cryptic comment, he looked away from Angel for a moment then
leant in and kissed him.
He slid his hands up Angel's loose shirt and splayed them over the hard, peaked
nipples. Angel buried his fingers into Spike's hair and pulled and played with
the short strands, then cupped Spike's backside with one hand, pulling them together.
He smiled into the kiss as he created delicious friction through their bodies.
Spike nodded but hung behind Angel as they went up the stairs. When they reached
the bedroom, Angel flattened Spike against a wall, mashing his face into the wallpaper.
He pushed his hand down inside Spike's jeans, trying to reach the hard backside.
'Pull them down.'
Spike flung around and pushed Angel backward until he fell onto the bed. He straddled
his strong body and began to undo Angel's jeans. 'I've only done this once, but
it was tighter than a nun with 'er legs crossed.'
Angel only half heard this and flipped Spike onto his back, rising darkly over
him. 'Strip. I'm kinda there, and I wanna be in you.'
Spike's eyes came back to focus a little, and he slid out from under Angel's heavy
hold. 'You what?'
Angel jerked his head back. 'Just turn over and shut up.'
'Err… that's kinda what I want you to do, although you can talk if you want.'
'Well, duh! I'm not a frigging girl, Angel; you ain't sticking anything in me!'
'What the fuck?' Angel's expression clearly showed that this possibility had never
once entered any of his various plans for Spike. He spoke very slowly and very
distinctly - just in case this would help clarify the matter. 'Spike.' He saw
that part had been understood. 'I am your sire.' No argument yet. 'YOU AREN'T
FREAKING TAKING ME!' Gritting his teeth with the knowledge he'd lost a serious
amount of credibility by shouting in a high-pitched voice, Angel nevertheless
grabbed Spike and began to rip at his jeans once more. 'Now, fucking take these
off, turn over and make any damn noise you want.'
Spike pushed Angel off the bed and pinned him to the floor, a position they knew
would not last long, Spike being so much lighter than his sire. 'Just shut up,
Angel, and let me do what I'm good at.'
Angel predictably flung him off and stood, then began to pace angrily, running
a distracted hand through his hair. 'You were fucking taking it tonight kinda
happily I'm thinking - and every night you've been here. Way't'go with the butch
act now, Spike.'
'I'm confident enough to give a little too, yeah. Are you? I don't think so; now,
spread on that sodding wall!'
Angel batted Spike's hand away, but grabbed it too, pulling Spike to him. 'I could
'And me you.'
Angel laughed. 'Yeah.'
Spike bristled. 'You sayin' you're better than me?'
'I don't need to say it.'
'Okay. Best man wins arse then.'
'I'll fight you for it. Winner gets to take the other's arse.'
Angel looked mutinous but secretly pleased with this outcome. 'Sure.'
Spike gave him a knowing look. 'No wriggling out at the last minute - like when
you've lost, mate… I know you. "I'm not very good at saying what I mean, Spike.
I didn't mean you could really have my ars…." Ow! Wanker!'
'Your Irish accent is worse than mine. A deal is a deal. I always make good, Spike;
you know that.'
''K then. Fight it is. But not now. I'm still drunk.'
Angel nodded as if victory was already his and he could afford to be magnanimous.
Spike got about half way down the hallway before he was flattened against the
faded wallpaper. 'Fuck this. Come back to bed with me. Just - Jesus, am I really
saying this? - just sleep together.'
Spike turned and caught Angel around the back of his neck, pulling him onto his
mouth. They kissed all the way back to the bedroom, kissed as they stripped and
crawled naked together onto the bed. Spike was the first to realise that their
plans were being scuppered. He pulled away, wide-eyed. 'OH! Shit! Sorry.' Clasping
Angel tightly to him, his body shuddered several times and then went limp. Angel
peeled him off and ran a hand in wonder through the sticky mess. The wet hand
went to his own erection, but before he could touch it, it jumped, milky strings
of cum leaping from its tip to fall soundlessly on the dark silk sheets.
Angel pouted for a moment, fixating on the bed, a slight flush of embarrassment
discernable to other preternatural senses. 'Okay. We'll just sleep then.'
Spike, quickly agreed. 'Oh yeah. Good idea. Shagged now… and tired might be a
better way of puttin' that.'
Angel lay on his back, Spike on his belly, and an awkward silence fell between
them until, with a small curse, Angel turned and heaved Spike into his arms. He
pressed his face into the soft hair. 'I don't lose control easily. That was novel
- thank you.'
Spike pushed back further into Angel's arms. 'Gonna have more novel tonight, Luv.
Better get to sleep, or you'll be too tired to enjoy it.'
'Yeah, yeah. Like I'm worried, Spike.'
''K. But remember, I'm younger than you.'
'You're recently souled. I've had decades to learn how to work round mine.'
'I want you.'
'I want you more.'
''K. We'll see. Tonight.'
Angel fell asleep to this pleasant thought. Spike lay awake all day, wondering
how he was going to maintain this new fiction given that lying to Angel now gave
him some considerable pain.
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