Home | Gallery | Spike/Angel | Spike/Giles/Angel | Spike/Giles | Spike/Wesley/Angel | Buttons | Poems


Time is the Fire in Which we Burn

Episode 6 - Chapter 2

Angel woke with the knowledge that Spike was in his room. He sat up and composed his features, hoping his nightmares had not betrayed him. He frowned. Spike was kneeling, lighting a candle.

'What are you…?'

'I've been reading - studying.'

Angel sighed and swung his legs out of bed. 'Good. Perhaps we can discuss….'

'Shut the fuck up, Angel. You're such a crap actor.'


'Rituals. I've been studying rituals.'

'Oh. As in…?'

'Siring rituals.'

'There are rituals for that?'

Spike glanced up, amused. Angel came closer and sank to his knees the other side of the candle.

Spike closed his eyes. 'You said you had no words to describe how much you love me, Angel. I wanted to come here and tell you that I was sorry, that I was wrong - but I can't find words either. So, I'm gonna do it in the way we both understand - our language.' He opened his eyes. 'You are my sire, my lover and my best friend. I want to start at the beginning of that - start again. Sire me, Angel - give me eternal life in you.'

Angel felt unsire-like tears prick his eyes, but he nodded. 'Come to me, Childe.'

Spike extinguished the candle and, in the dark, felt a vast presence sweep down over him. He felt a flash of fear and revelled in the ancient mystery that could awaken such intense emotion. He heard a hiss, cried out, and then fangs descended into his neck, precisely into the scar that bore witness to his first rebirth through Angel's dark power. Everything that Angel had suppressed went into the bite. He reached deep into Spike's artery and sliced it: his childe's lifeblood draining into his mouth. He tasted God's faint trace under the coppery flavour and swallowed him. He lived Spike's nightmares, felt the sun burning his own skin, and swallowed the fear. He felt Spike's overwhelming love for him and swallowed that eagerly, and then a soul and all the subsequent madness slipped down to fill his belly. He took in Spike's love for Buffy, savoured their sex, swallowed the unrequited passion, tasted this creature's fury at being chipped; and continued to drain him as, at last, the Big Bad surfaced and slid over his tongue. With the last few dregs of Spike's blood, Angel held his human obsession in his arms once more. He brushed William's damp hair from unseeing blue eyes, kissed the flawless lips, and then began the long journey again.

He opened his breast and clutched his childe to his heart, offering his own unique form of salvation, sharing his promise of eternal life.

He felt William's humanity slip away as the powerful blood began to reanimate him. He felt Spike twitch and stir as an instinctive sucking reflex kicked in: long drawn-out sucks that pulled his blood through his body, through his cock, hardening it to an unnatural thickness. He laid them down, unbuttoning Spike's jeans, not dislodging the fangs that tore at his heart, and put his hardness into his Childe, closing this circle of life, thumping it back into the supine body as that body drained it so effectively from him.

Angel hung teetering on the brink of coming and passing out, and did both: deep shudders of cum into Spike's rectum, and then a hard thump on his body as the blood loss overcame him.

Dislodged from feeding, Spike opened his eyes. His entire body was filled with Angel. He wrapped his arms tightly around Angel's back and sent him a silent, heart-felt prayer of thanks, for hadn't he just been told that his God always heard his prayers, no matter how unworthy he felt?

Spike woke first.

Angel was still in him, still lying heavy on him. Spike stretched and grinned. He'd dreamt of Angel all night, and now he burnt for him - in that good kind of burning that thickened his cock. With a smirk, he ran his hands down Angel's back to his firm cheeks and cupped them. The movement, as it was intended, woke Angel.

Angel dislodged himself and rose, fetching his robe.

Spike adjusted his clothing and stood up, very unsure of what he should do next. Angel returned and stood a few feet away from him. 'We'll start again - as you wished, Childe.'

Spike breathed a deep sigh of relief, and Angel's brows knitted together. 'Do you understand what that means?'

'Sure, I guess….'

'No, Spike, you don't guess anything - you wait to be told what you think, when I've decided what that will be.'


'Sire, remember? Sire, lover and best friend. We will never be free to be the last two of those unless we start again at the beginning. So, now I am only your sire. I say again, do you understand what this will entail?'

Spike paused then bowed his head and replied, 'Yes, Sire, I do.'

'Will you submit to me?'

'Yes, Sire.'

'Will you remember that you carry my demon and only mine?'

'Yes, Sire.'

'Will you service my needs - whatever they might be?'

'Willingly, Sire.'

'Will you live according to our rules?'

'As best I can, Sire.'

'Then leave me now. Go back to your place, pack what you'll need for a stay of some length and then return.'

Spike hesitated.

'Do you fail at the first hurdle?'

'No! Only… am I permitted to ask a question?'

'Of course.'

'This is just the first step, right? I mean… we'll move on to the…?'

'Just do as I wish now.'

Trying to remember that he didn't deserve forgiveness anyway, Spike went to the door without more hesitation.

When he was sure Spike had left, Angel staggered to the fridge and fed with a ravenous hunger he'd not felt for over a century. The feeding distracted his thoughts - thoughts he did not want to think anyway.

He fed, and he forced the thoughts away.

He fed, and he clamped them down so hard that not one single moment of confusion leaked out.

As he picked up a last bag, something stabbed behind his eyes, and he put a hand wonderingly to his head but with a shrug, downed the blood anyway.

Spike returned swiftly with a bag and came into Angel's room. Back from a shower, dressing, Angel said coolly, 'Your room.'

Spike nodded and backed out. When he was dressed, Angel went down to the lobby and found Wesley: sleepy, bad-tempered and making tea. He put a hand on his arm to still it and said, 'Spike's back.' He faltered at the look on Wesley's face and added, 'But things have changed.'

Wesley's face fell again, and Angel added somewhat hesitantly, 'We are working through some issues our way… as vampires.'

Wesley's eyebrows rose. 'You don't often refer to yourself as a vampire, Angel.'

Angel turned and leant on the counter. 'Spike is very perceptive - he always has been. He came here last night and asked for me to be his sire again.'

'He felt lost - it's only natural, I suppose. And, Angel, for what it's worth, I think you handled this whole situation incredibly well, but I'm not sure I understand what you are saying - you are… together, no? What's wrong…?'

Angel snatched the hand away from his temple and replied nonchalantly, 'I've got a headache and no… we're not together in… that way. In time, perhaps. He's staying here now, and you'll see some change in his behaviour - he is my childe, and I'm reacquainting him with that position.'

'I see - said the blind man. Do you mean you are training him to be a vampire?'

Angel looked surprised. 'Yes, I suppose I am.'

'Goodness. I shall be intrigued to see how you pull this off given you are both souled and he's chipped.'

Angel smiled faintly. 'So will I.'

Wesley went back to making the tea, and Angel watched him, thoughtfully. Before he could say anything about the events of the previous evening, Spike sauntered into the kitchen. He nodded warily at Angel and went immediately to the fridge.

Angel put a hand on it and nodded at Wesley to leave. When they were alone, he said, 'Who is your source of life?'

Spike ducked his head once more. 'You, Sire.'

'Good. You will feed from me when you have earned it. You will not feed elsewhere.'

Spike nodded.

'I want you to stay close to me today - work in the office… anything the others ask you to do.'

Spike's jaw clenched a little, but he nodded meekly enough. He rummaged in his jeans, produced a packet of cigarettes and tipped one into his mouth. Angel removed it.

'No smoking.'


Angel looked at him sadly and went out to the lobby. Spike came after him and put a hand on his arm, snatched it off quickly and said softly, 'Forgive me, Sire, only… I'm finding this kinda weird, yeah?'

Angel smiled a little. 'I am too, Childe. Be careful to think before you react - it's your worst fault.'

Spike lifted an eyebrow. 'Is that so? Sire….'

Angel clenched his jaw on a grin and said warningly, 'William….'

Spike ducked away. 'Going to the office now… see?'

Angel nodded and went into his office, closing the door. He leant on it until he felt strong enough to walk to the desk. He wondered briefly if the blood he'd taken had been bad. He'd never had a non-alcohol-induced headache before - not one he could remember - and it made it difficult for him to think straight. He tried to think positive thoughts. At least he'd found two sure ways to gain Spike's compliance: control the food supply and threaten withdrawal of approval.

A third way to control Spike occurred to Angel an hour or so later. He'd gone out to watch his childe, and leant on the wall, ostensibly chatting to Wesley. He glanced over at the lowered profile and jerked his head back a little at the intensity of sexual heat radiating off the blond figure. He could smell his own blood coursing through the smaller figure. It animated every fibre, every muscle straining to be used. He waited. He gave Spike credit for withstanding it for another hour, but then Spike looked up casually and said, 'Sire…?'

Angel nodded.

'Can I speak with you… upstairs?'


Spike recoiled as if this reply had not occurred to him. Angel saw the petulant word 'but' form on the soft lips but was pleased when it was snatched away. Spike buried his expression behind his computer screen and stayed silent for another hour.

Impressed, Angel went back to his office. He sat carefully at his desk and put his head down on folded arms. It didn't help. It particularly didn't help when he had to snatch it up again at Spike entry. 'Sire…?'


'May I go upstairs then?'

'On your own?'

'Seems so.'


'Hey! This is fucking stupid! You're hard; I'm bloody bursting 'ere…. oh, bugger.'

He watched Angel's slow approach extremely warily. 'Upstairs, now.' The unexpected, hissed command sent waves of intense desire down Spike's spine, and he had difficultly holding back a surging ejaculation.

He went swiftly up the stairs and waited just inside the bedroom. When Angel came in, he pinned him to the wall with a smirk. 'I can smell you want me.'

Angel took a deep breath, winced noticeably with a small twitch in one eyelid and reversed their positions, pressing Spike to the wall by his shoulders. 'No. You're not getting this, are you?'

'Come on, Angel. This is different; this is just....'

'No. You don't trust me enough to subjugate your needs to my authority.'

'You saying we can't shag?'

'Take your clothes off.'

'Oh, yeah…. That's more like it!' Spike willingly complied, striping off his T-shirt and flinging it to one side, circling Angel as he undid his jeans and let them drop to the floor. With a flourish, he kicked them off and stood with his arms open invitingly.

Angel smiled. 'Now, go to your room and stay there until I come for you.'


'And I will know if you do anything about that....' Angel indicated the painful, thick erection that bobbed leaking against Spike's belly.

'This is a joke, right?'

Angel came up to him, dominating him by his superior size without actually touching him. 'It wasn't a joke when you cast me off, Spike, no. I don't know what brought you back here to me - I don't know what went on with that priest - perhaps one day you'll tell me - but I think you discovered that when you stripped everything away, there wasn't God at all, there was me. I am your source of life, Spike; I am your creator, and until we understand what that means to both us, we can't discover what else I can be to you. So, I will say this one more time - but only this once. Do you understand what obedience to me means?'

Spike swallowed, stopped trying to sway his erection against Angel, and said petulantly, 'Yes, Sire - but I don't have to like it!'

Shaking his head at the small defiance, Angel turned away but then swung a massive punch into Spike's face. Spike fell like a stone before his expression had even had a chance to lose its arrogant challenge. Angel waited patiently until he regained consciousness, holding fingertips to his temple, waited until he rose warily to his feet and then hit him again. He could feel his own erection swelling at this violent release and kept his eyes on Spike's swaying erection as he hit him.

Spike tried to crawl away. Angel took one look at Spike's backside and felt his balls shudder release into his pants. He bent over at the waist, groaning. Spike turned and skittered away until his back was to the wall. He watched Angel coming but did not touch himself. Finally, he said through broken lips, 'I'm sorry, Sire.'

Angel nodded and straightened. 'Go to your room until I come for you.'

Spike rose with some difficulty, glanced at his clothes, saw Angel shake his head and went naked, bloody and erect to his room.

He sat there all day, thinking about Angel and what had just happened between them.

He had sensed Angel's dark pleasure at the beating - seen the effect it had had on him. It was exactly the apology he wanted to make, the language they needed to use to express their pain, but for all that, he sensed that Angel was holding something back from him. It was evident in the tense set of his shoulders and in the odd flicker of his eyelid.

When Angel came up to see him late that night, Spike slipped gracefully to his knees and hung his head silently. Healed on the residual power of Angel's blood, he almost glowed in the soft light.

Angel came over to him. 'Do we know where we stand now?'

Spike nodded and breathed, 'Sire,' softly.

'Follow me.'

Angel spun and went to his room. When Spike came in, he picked something off the bed and handed it to his childe. Spike held the offered sabre reverently.

'It's nineteenth century - English - used at the Battle of Waterloo. It's yours now. I want you to have it.'

'Shit. Sire. I mean... why?'

'Because you obeyed me. Because I can. Because I want to.'

Spike swung it around a few times, and the effect of his naked arousal combined with the beauty of the weapon made Angel turn away for a moment. He felt Spike's presence close behind him. 'Sire...?'


'I want to thank you.'

Angel turned and saw his expression. Spike downcast his eyes and added, 'Please.'

Angel put a hand to the blond head and pushed it down. Spike moaned with pleasure and unzipped him. Glancing up for permission, he eased Angel back to the bed and made him sit on the edge. He pushed him back and knelt between the open thighs. There were so many roles to play: adoring lover returning after an absence; worshiping childe being rewarded for obedience; pissed off vampire who desperately needed a shag - Spike didn't know where to begin. Preparing himself for another beating, he decided to ignore all of these, just be himself, and see how that went.

He eased Angel's erection out of his pants and freed his balls so they hung heavy and full, cupped in his hand. He nuzzled into the scent that he had missed so much and then licked hard and slow up the throbbing shaft. Angel gasped in a very unsire-like way and rose up slightly, his hands embedding in Spike's hair. Spike grinned and risked a hand under Angel's shirt to find his nipples, and he played gently with them as he tapped the leaking tip of the hard erection against his lips. Angel's nipples peaked under Spike's fingers, and he twisted them slightly in turn, pinching them and pulling them until Angel cursed.

Not knowing how much longer Angel would put up with this very un-childe-like blowjob, Spike decided to progress matters. He let Angel's balls drop, heavy and stretched, and took hold of his foreskin, easing it around the swollen head. He pulled the erection away from Angel's belly to his mouth and ran the head repeatedly over his lips then, keeping them tight, pushed the tip in and out. Angel swore again but made no attempt to stop him.

With one swift move, Spike ducked his face right onto the shaft, sending the tip to the back of his throat. He knelt up, and Angel caught at his head, urging him to move, trying to get the tip to rub against the back walls of the tight throat. Spike cupped his sac once more, playing his fingers over Angel's perineum and rubbing the balls together as he sucked.

Hard all day from thinking about Spike, reliving the beating and its unexpected outcome, Angel didn't last. He cried out, arched back and exploded cum against Spike's throat. Spike swallowed. The reflex muscle action made Angel crease up at the waist with pleasure, and his face nearly brushed Spike's hair. He held back though, and when his intense orgasm finished, he lay back down on the bed with a small groan.

Spike eased off the softening penis and said softly, 'Shall I prepare a shower for you, Sire?'

Glancing up, Angel kept his expression neutral and nodded. Spike picked up his new sword with obvious delight, gave Angel a small nod, and went out.

Angel lay on his back not sure whether he'd just witnessed the most intense example of sire/childe obedience in his long unlife, or a very clever act. He wasn't sure that he cared all that much. His head hurt so much now that he feared he could not stand. When he did, it was worse than he feared. Every movement sent daggers of pain into the backs of his eyes.

Unwilling to admit that he could succumb to such a human weakness, he straightened and went steadily to the bathroom.

The water was running, a towel was laid out for him, and Spike leant against the wall studying his nails. Angel slowly stripped off his clothes. 'What are you still here for?'

'Do you want me to wash you?'

'No. Wait. Yes.' Spike didn't grin; he just pushed off the wall and joined Angel under the water. It took all of Angel's very considerable strength of character not to reach out a hand and relieve Spike's need for him. Sharing the shower, the leaking shaft continually hit him, running its soft tip over his abs and his sides. At one point, Angel bowed his head so Spike could wash his hair, and he mentally saw himself falling to his knees - going just that bit lower and taking the red need in his mouth. It was only the nausea at the slight bend that kept him on his feet.

When Angel was clean, Spike stepped out of the shower. 'May I leave?'

Angel nodded, slightly suspicious. Spike got to the door then turned. 'I'm hungry, Sire.'

'Wait for me in my room.'

When he got to his room, Spike was sitting on the bed, still naked, his new sword possessively at his side. Angel attempted a smile. 'You'd better lock that away downstairs.'

Spike's face crumpled for a moment, but it was such a brief look that Angel forgave him.

Angel pulled on some sweat pants and sat beside Spike. He looked at him frankly. 'From whom do you draw you life?'

'You, Sire. Only you.'

'To whom do I offer my life's blood?'

'Me. Just me.'

'What does it represent?'

'The bond between us.'

'The bond that nothing should break.'

Spike hung his head. 'I'm so sorry, Sire. I forgot that, and I let my head get....'

'Hush, Childe; I forgot as well. We are here now, and we will take this new beginning and make of it what we want. Feed now. Take my blood; I shed it for you alone.'

Spike changed and came to Angel's neck. Angel gasped at the intensity of the pleasure and lay back. Spike half-lay on him and lapped at the wound, his erection now urgent and rubbing between them. After a short time, however, he pulled away and slid back to human form. Angel frowned. 'You've not fed enough...'

'I can't, Sire....'

Angel felt his anger rising once more. 'Do you think this is unclean or...?'

'If I keep on, I'll come, and you said not to.'

Angel blinked and clenched his jaw to hide his smile. 'Feed Childe. You've done well today.'

Closing his eyes with pleasure, Spike returned to the blood and wriggled as he fed, rubbing his cock on Angel's naked belly. He felt a hand slip in between them and relaxed to enjoy his meal as his sire brought him off.

Skilfully, almost as familiar with Spike's cock as with his own, Angel played gently with the steel-hard shaft.

He could feel his blood leaving his body, pictured it going into Spike, giving him life and power, sustaining him. That it only increased his pain to the point where tears sprang unbidden from his eyes, he ignored. When he felt the cool explosion of cum on his hand, he put it to his lips before he remembered that worshiping his childe was wrong.

He eased Spike away from his neck. 'Go to your room now and sleep.'

Spike seemed to find this the most difficult command of all that day. Angel saw his gaze flicker to the empty spot alongside him, but instead of begging, he rose, grasped his present to his chest, bowed slightly, and left.

Angel rolled into the empty place and hid his face under his arm.

Go to Chapter 3


Home | Gallery | Spike/Angel | Spike/Giles/Angel | Spike/Giles | Spike/Wesley/Angel | Buttons | Poems