Time is the Fire in Which we Burn - Chapter 8
Angel woke with his usual erection and urgent need for swift release, only to find his shaft squashed and worked slightly by Spike's sleep-warm, curled body. He groaned and wondered if he couldn't, this close, surreptitiously work it into…. 'Don't even go there in yer head, Mate!' Spike turned in Angel's arms and gave him a look.
Angel returned a small, amused pout. 'Good evening.' He stretched and blinked, slightly bemused at the strangeness of the situation, then snapped his eyes open in surprise as a cool hand cupped him.
'Guess I can do this without losing too much face, Pet.' Spike slid lower and nuzzled into Angel's curly hair, breathing in his unique scent. Angel parted his legs so Spike could slip a cool hand between them and fondle his soft, wobbly sac. He sat up at the extreme pleasure driving in waves through his groin, making him swell and leak. With a seductive glance up through very self-satisfied, lowered eyes, Spike licked up Angel's erection from the veined root to the slippery, smooth head. He caught the leaking fluid on his tongue and murmured his appreciation of its cool flavour.
Angel suddenly shoved him away. With an accusatory slap on the blond head, he hissed, 'Cheat!'
Spike raised an eyebrow and rolled away onto his back, rummaging for his cigarettes with a cheeky grin. 'I'm just taking away some of that dangerous lookin' swelling; 's all. Relieving the urgency of my sire, like an obedient childe.'
'I want my urgency where it is, thank you.'
''K then. You're still gonna lose though.'
'Err… maybe shower first, Luv? Bit… flaky here.'
'No. It's makes me want you more. I can smell me on you.'
Not making any move whatsoever to get dressed, Spike lit his cigarette and took a long drag. 'Golly, so masterful, and so soon to be my bitch.'
Angel punched at Spike, but Spike rolled off the bed at the same time, and the blow only landed lightly on his arm. Nevertheless, Spike gave him a look as he foraged for his discarded clothes. 'Cripple me, why don't you? Cheat.'
'Feeling vulnerable, Childe?'
'Get dressed, SIRE.'
Silent, hiding his amusement and pleasure, Angel dressed, watching Spike as he pulled on his jeans and, together, they went down the hallway toward the stairs.
'So, where we gonna get this thing on? Not here.'
'Afraid my friends are gonna witness the Big Bad becoming the Big Butt?'
'I'm afraid they're gonna see their champion cry and beg, Mate. 'S not gonna be pretty.'
'We'll take it into the tunnels.'
'Won't they be angsty 'bout the good fight not gettin' fought tonight?'
'An old… acquaintance…. A friend is returning tonight. His presence will… please them, and he can take my place.'
''K then.' With only one small look between them, they descended into the lobby. Angel suddenly gave a smile, which he then tried to suppress and said neutrally, 'Wesley.'
Fortunately for Spike, he was a step behind by the time Angel spoke, so Angel did not see his expression. Wesley immediately came forward, mounted the remaining few steps and said very distinctly, 'You must be Spike. I'm Wesley Wyndham-Price, a colleague of Angel's.'
'A friend, Wes.'
Wesley turned to Angel, grateful for the distraction from Spike's expression and even more thankful for the correction. He nodded once. 'Yes. Friend. Thank you.'
Angel went on toward his office, talking to the others, explaining some of Wesley's reappearance. Spike gritted his teeth, nodded toward the kitchen and stomped off, not waiting to see if Wesley followed.
He put a blood bag in the microwave and kept his back to the room. 'I'm thinking we'll keep the kiss between us, Mate.'
He heard a chair scraping out behind him. 'And possibly your offer to fuck me.'
'Along with you wanting to say yes.'
Spike turned but could not keep anger on his face. He shook his head censoriously. 'This is shedding a whole new light your little comment about playing with fire, you bugger.'
'I think it was worth the risk, don't you?'
'I never got to say anything.'
'He spoke first? I'm… surprised. Pleased, but surprised. I didn't think he would.'
'Given he's… what was your phrase? An emotional retard.'
Wesley chuckled and was about to say something when Angel came in to feed. Spike rubbed the back of his neck with a slightly guilty expression, and Angel looked between them. 'What? What are you two talking about?'
'You.' Wesley smiled and looked guileless. His suspicion successfully deflected, Angel put some food in to heat and casually mentioned that he was taking Spike on a tour of the city's lowlife that night. He saw no suspicion in the human's eyes and began to outline what Wesley was to do in his absence.
Eventually, Wesley gave Angel a patronising smile and assured him that they could manage one night without him and, at the words, Angel gave Spike a meaningful look and nodded toward the door. 'Time to go.'
Spike raised an eyebrow. 'Can't wait.'
They went out together. Wesley stood to make himself some tea but suddenly leant back against the counter and raised his eyes sightlessly to the ceiling and let out a long, slow breath. He'd hardly recovered his composure when Spike came swiftly back into the room. He marched up to Wesley and stood eye-to-eye. 'You've got a lot to answer for, Human.'
Spike saw Wesley's uncertain look. He caught Wesley's face between his hands then bent swiftly and kissed him hard, opening his mouth, lifting one leg slightly… and then he was gone. Wesley took back in the long breath he'd just released.
He needed it.
He stared intensely back up at the ceiling, wondering, firstly, if that was the most confused and desperate man he'd ever seen and, secondly, why Angel appeared to be completely blind to Spike's pain.
Spike sauntered through the tunnels in a way that appeared deliberately calculated to annoy Angel. Angel watched this blond annoyance out of the corner of one eye.
He picked up sticks and trailed them along walls until they broke; he jumped the small stream running down the middle; he sang; he cracked jokes. Whether he was deliberately trying to remind Angel of the old, manic Spike - the one Angelus had suffered for so long - Angel wasn't sure. He gave him the benefit of the doubt that any resemblance was purely coincidental and tried not to expect to be called poofter in a dismissive way at any minute. He clenched his jaw at the thought that he was going to fuck this childe within a few minutes. He'd come down here to fuck the Spike he'd had in bed with him all night; this one did not seem so appealing.
Suddenly, Angel stopped. He looked down for a moment and grinned. 'Good one, Spike.'
'Never mind. Continue. You only stir Angelus, and I'm thinking of letting him out to play soon.'
'Prick.' Spike dropped the act, slowed down and lit a cigarette. 'You're still gonna lose.'
Angel jogged to catch him up and put a hand on his arm. 'Why are you being so obtuse, Spike? You can't possibly beat me. You know I'm stronger than you. We've done this so many times before.'
Spike shrugged. 'Maybe. This might help though.' He suddenly lashed out and caught Angel a vicious blow to his face, and when the larger vampire staggered, chopped him on the back of his neck. More from surprise than weakness, Angel went down on his knees. Spike didn't hesitate and swing-kicked him in the face. Angel was knocked onto his back, but rolled to one side when Spike tried to stomp on him. He whipped out an arm to catch the passing boots, but missed, and had to suffer the indignity of seeing Spike running at full speed out of sight into the tunnel complex.
Angel got to his feet and readjusted his jaw slightly with a deep frown at his own gullibility. Unpredictability had always been his childe's forte and apparently the soul had not changed this - or ruined his street fighting skills. Angel stood straight and tipped his head up slightly, scenting the air, then with his coat slowly flowing behind him, he began the chase. He hadn't gone far when an iron bar caught him full in the face. His nose broke and blood ran down his chin. It was just what he needed to focus, and he caught the swinging weapon and pulled hard. Jerked out into the light, Spike suddenly looked wary. Angel made to punch him, but anticipated Spike's feint and swept his legs out from under him instead. With a cry of pleasure, he picked Spike up and threw him against the wall.
Spike grunted, more from the reminder of how strong Angel was, than from the impact with the brickwork. He came up in a low crouch and smashed Angel back into the opposite wall. Angel brought up his knees and proved that Spike's sac was as vulnerable to damage as his. Spike crouched, doubled over. Angel held his hair then kneed him in the face. Spike spread eagled on the ground and groaned slightly. Angel stood over him, wiping the blood from his nose. 'Turn over.'
Spike looked at him then reared up and sank his teeth into the front of Angel's thigh. Outraged, Angel hit at the blond hair but to no effect. He tried to step backward but, like a terrier, Spike held on and was dragged along the ground. Angel shook his leg, cursing. Off balance, as he was supposed to be, Angel was struck again when Spike flipped to standing and head butted him in the belly. With a whoop of glee, the blond figure ran off again, until nothing remained but the sound of his receding footfalls.
Angel ran a hand through his hair, straightened his clothes, checked his leg, and then let Angelus out for a little fun. Angelus didn't need to scent the air; he just pounded straight after Spike. Moreover, fucking his blond childe was not at the top of his list of things to do when the chase came to its inevitable conclusion.
Angelus rounded a corner and skidded to a halt in a small chamber. Spike was standing in the centre, his arms loosely at his side, seemingly relaxed but exuding tense excitement. Angelus grinned; Spike tipped his head on one side and gave the approaching figure considerable attention. 'Sire?'
Angelus nodded. 'Long time no see.'
'Having a rest.'
'Uh huh. Never no mind.'
'You will mind.'
Spike raised an eyebrow. 'I'm thinking less dark menace and more actually hitting me, maybe?'
Spike couldn't dodge the blow, despite thinking the distance between them sufficient to make such jibes in safety. Angelus demonstrated his spooky ability to fly but, flat on his back, Spike couldn't show proper appreciation. He shook his head to clear it, but Angelus' size eleven connected with his temple. Almost losing consciousness, Spike dragged himself to one side and rolled over on his belly. He stood slowly and turned with his back to the wall, facing Angelus. He swallowed deeply. Angelus grinned manically and ran like a charging bull at the blond figure. Spike left it beyond the last minute to dodge, but the tactic worked, and Angelus' fist plunged through the brickwork up to his elbow. Face to face now though, Angelus grinned and began to pull out. He frowned and pulled some more. A look of intense pain crossed his face.
Spike slid further away down the wall and watched this interesting development. Angelus shook his head and hissed, 'Fuck off, not now,' but then after a slow blink, Angel looked up at Spike. 'Fuck.'
Spike frowned, debating whether this was a trick. 'What?'
'Some kind of structural rod.'
'And now it's through my fucking elbow. If I pull, it only embeds in my arm more.'
'So… you're stuck then?'
Angel saw his expression and yanked uncontrollably on his arm. He paled and slumped unconscious, hung up on the rod, which was now impaled from his elbow to his wrist.
Spike squatted down and lit a cigarette, watching the slumped form. He was only out for a few seconds, but when Angel reanimated, a look of horror crossed his face, and he did it all again, pulling desperately. Once more he paled; sweat ran heavily down the chalk-white face, but this time he stayed conscious.
Spike got to his feet. 'Yes. You've lost.'
'Spike! This doesn't fucking count!' Angel tried to lower and calm his voice. 'You haven't taken me; I'm….'
Spike waited for him to finish with a pleasant, helpful expression. When Angel couldn't find the word, he added cheerfully, 'Stuck?'
Angel gritted his teeth and pulled once more. Spike wasn't too sure what made Angel go paler: the pain at this last desperate attempt to get free, or the fact that he happened to take the opportunity to hitch his jeans up, his hands going casually to his waistband.
Angel made a small sound of relief as Spike's jeans went up then leant wearily on the wall. 'Help me.'
'Do you remember what you said to me when I was…. When you were…. When I first got here?'
'What? Is this the time for fucking reminiscing, Spike?'
'When I was torturing you, you said it was all about choices.'
'Did I? I say a lot of freaking shit when I'm in pain - LIKE NOW!'
'Choices about why we do things. You said I got my soul for the wrong reason.'
'I talk too much.'
'Maybe, but some of it's actually good. I did. I got it so you would want me, but you didn't, and I couldn't make it true, however much I wanted it. So, I'm not gonna take you now….'
Angel heaved a sigh of relief. 'Okay. Good. Stop pissing around, and get me out.'
'I'm not gonna take you until you ask me to.'
'Next Millennium springing to mind here, Spike.'
'Cus I can find someone who does want me. Won't have to look too far, I'm thinking.'
Angel narrowed his eyes. 'Are you blackmailing me? Let you fuck me or you piss off to some dancing homo?'
Spike smiled. 'No. You have to want me enough to let it go.'
Angel looked suspicious. 'Let what go?'
'Okay. This is just bullshit. Get me outta here.'
'See, you've always been the strongest. Do you remember how you told me about Liam: how strong he was, how fearless?'
'I tell you lies all the time, Spike; you said that yourself. Liam was a bully. I was a bully. I was weak, and I was stupid.'
'Angelus was magnificent.'
'He got me fucking stuck in here!'
'You then, Angel. What about you? Everyone's champion, so strong, so fearless, so in control.'
For the first time, Angel's expression lost its furious lines. 'Balance….'
He shook his head slightly as if clearing some thought. 'Nothing. What Wesley said to me.'
'He is.' Angel looked at the blood streaming down his arm for a while then added, 'He said I couldn't be strong unless I was weak.'
'I think my argument is better.'
'No…. Not weak… vulnerable. He said there was a difference. Dunno. Maybe. What he meant was that there's neither without both.'
'You have to ask for it. You have to want it. Lay down the need to be a champion for a while, Angel. You don't need to be one with me. It's not why I want you.'
Angel swallowed deeply. 'I can't.'
'Are you going to let fear beat you? Jeez, Angel, you told me to face it, and I did. Am I stronger than you?'
Angel looked ruefully at his arm. 'Apparently.'
'Huh. That's a start. You saying I beat you fair and square?'
'Yes. You beat him too, and he's stronger than me.'
'So…. What am I so afraid of? It's just a thing. People do it.'
When Spike's hands returned to his waistband, Angel's eyes widened, but he did not demure. When Spike undid his button, Angel winced slightly, but turned to face the wall. When Spike's hand slid around Angel's waist and undid his jeans, lowering them half-mast, Angel let out a small sound, but they both allowed him the save that it could have been desire.
'You wanna get free first, Luv? Looks painful.'
'It is and no. I need it.'
'Okay. I get that. Can you spread some more?'
Angel tipped his head back and rolled his eyes to the ceiling, biting his lip until it bled, but he shook his jeans down to his feet and stepped out of them, then spread as if he were bracing for an attack.
Spike smiled into the warm silk of Angel's shirt and cupped the firm cheeks. 'This is gonna hurt.'
'Like a three foot iron shaft in my arm?'
'Dunno. Maybe. Never done either.'
'Just get on with it.'
Spike ran his hand through the blood on Angel's body and then slipped it into the warm cleft. He rubbed a finger gently over Angel's hole, pressing softly then releasing. ''K?'
Angel didn't reply. He'd leant his forehead on the wall, his eyes tightly shut. Spike took his shaft in his hand and thumbed over the leaking precum. It was cool to the touch, and he saw Angel flinch as he transferred the first drops to the waiting hole. Hands on Angel's hips, holding tightly, Spike began to push in. Angel grunted, and his free hand swung back as if to stop him or slow him or just take control once more, but Spike only took the hand in one of his and squeezed the fingers hard. Then he pushed home. Angel let out a rush of held breath, more indicative of his fear and pain than the earlier paling and passing out. Spike frowned and waited, deeply embedded in Angel's body.
At last, Angel said weakly, 'Get it on, Spike. Just do it.'
Spike nodded and pulled back slightly. It was dry and unpleasant, and Angel hunched his shoulders. Spike eased forward, and precum slicked around him, so when he pulled back once more, it was cool and fluid and very, very pleasurable. Encouraged, Spike made a small sound and dipped slightly as he pushed back in. He sped up, the tightness of Angel's virgin arse sending sharp jolts of pleasure to his balls, his foreskin rubbing over his cockhead and thick veins on his shaft beginning to throb from the stimulation. He put his forehead on Angel's back and began to twist his head from side to side as he rose into the thrusting and dipped on exit. He thought no greater sexual pleasure could exist, but then Angel pushed back.
Spike's eyes flew wide open. He stood straight and thrust again. It was unmistakable; Angel was there to meet him, thrusting his backside back onto the shaft, urging it deeper. He began to clench and unclench his strong muscles, tightening the walls onto Spike. Spike let out a low, soft expletive at the sensation and increased his pace until the only sound for hundreds of feet was rapid, urgent humping: sweaty flesh banging sweaty flesh, and a hard body being propelled into brickwork.
Then there was a low, building cry: the unmistakable sounds of a man crashing to orgasm. Spike cried out in unison, unable to believe that he'd fucked Angel to a shared release. His shaft swelled and lengthened in Angel's rectum as his balls discharged their load. Shots of milky fluid filled the tightness, as Spike smelt Angel's sperm pungent on the stale, underground air. He shuddered against Angel's back, now holding on for support as his orgasm drained his strength and wobbled his legs.
Small aftershocks of orgasm kept Spike trembling slightly in Angel's rectum. Fluid poured out of the stretched anus, running down Spike's root to glisten on his dark curls. Mindless now, wanting only to sit down and light a cigarette, Spike began to pull out. Angel untangled his fingers and jerked Spike to him tightly. They stayed that way for some time until, with a small nod, Angel released him. Spike eased out, bent and pulled Angel's jeans up for him, fastening them with only slightly shaky hands.
With a grimace, Spike punched his hand into the wall alongside Angel's impaled arm. He did it over and over again until the cause of the problem could be seen. The bar, bent by Angelus' blow, twisted away. On pulling back, it had gone through just under the elbow, each successive wrench only sliding it further along Angel's arm. Now the point emerged through the wrist, glistening with his dark blood. Spike began to kick at the brickwork all around. When it was loose enough for Angel to push forward sufficiently, creating some slack, Spike took the bar and eased it gradually out of Angel's arm.
Spike lowered Angel to sitting, noting (but ignoring) his wince of discomfort and stripped off his own shirt. Binding the badly damaged arm carefully, Spike glanced at the exit. 'You need to feed.'
Angel nodded, seemingly not trusting himself to speak, and together they limped back toward the hotel.
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