The electronic beep that meant mail sounded and Angel reached out, double-clicking on the envelope in the lower right corner without thinking. Harmony and Wesley had given him a crash course in computers that, combined with Cordelia's earlier nagging, let him at least read and send email. He knew his secretary was angling for him to start typing his own letters, but he hadn't given up handwriting things for Cordelia, and he certainly wasn't about to start for Harmony. Besides, it wasn't like his handwriting was as bad as Gunn's or Spike's-the two of them wrote in illegible scrawls that so far, only Wesley seemed able to decipher. Shaking his head, he forgot about the bad penmanship of his coworkers and started reading his email.
Angel read the email, then went back and read it again. And again. Who had sent this to him? The space where a name usually appeared was filled with a jumble of letters and numbers, so it obviously wasn't anyone he knew. But more to the point, why would someone send this to him? He wasn't about to take something like that! The last time he'd taken anything, it had only been dumb luck that nobody was killed. And then there was the fact that he didn't really want to know what 200 years of existence coupled with Angelus' sick ideas of fun would come up with as his deepest secret desire.
He clicked Delete and went back to reviewing the quarterly expenditure reports, determined not to think about the email. And for a while, he succeeded. It wasn't until he was wrapping up a meeting with Gunn later that afternoon that he remembered one the of claims that had been made: odorless and tasteless. What would happen if someone slipped some of that drug into his blood? There were plenty of people out there that would love to bring him down, and what better way than by making him a slave to his own sexual need?
The thought was an unsettling one, to say the least. Perhaps he should talk to Wesley about it. But what would he say? That someone had sent him an email that boasted of an undetectable drug that could make anyone lose all control, but he didn't have the email anymore because he'd deleted it? It sounded like the plot of a really bad porno at best, and the ravings of a madman at worst. No, he'd have to just forget about it and put it out of his mind. Besides, it wasn't like Wolfram & Hart was that easy to get into... unless you were a small army of robots, or the suppressed subconscious of an empath or a vampire with a grudge, or the liason to the Senior Partners...or Lindsey.
Lindsey! Of course! Why hadn't he thought of him right away? This was probably one of those plans the little prick had mentioned to Spike, one of the myriad ways he intended to screw with Angel just like he always had. Not for the first time, Angel thought about how he must have really messed up Lindsey's plans when he'd caught the Texan feeding Spike some line about destiny and the Powers That Be. Whatever he'd been up to, it wasn't good and it was almost guaranteed to be trouble. Luckily, Angel had been able to derail that particular idea of Spike being the new champion, and he'd brought his childe back to Wolfram & Hart to make sure he stayed away from Lindsey.
And now this email only a couple of weeks later. Yes, Lindsey had to be the one behind it, even if Angel wasn't sure exactly how. If he'd gotten his hands on that drug... Christ, who knew what Lindsey would do if he knew all that stuff about Angel? Humiliation and degradation were absolute certainties, but they could prove just the tip of the iceberg. Angel groaned and rubbed his temples, wondering if vampires could develop migraines.
"Angel, are you all right?"
He looked up to see concerned blue eyes and smiled. "I'm fine, Wes, just... didn't sleep too well," he lied.
"Perhaps you should take off early tonight, then. Maybe even see about scheduling a vacation at some point. After all, we're running the office; it shouldn't be running us."
"Yeah, good point." Angel nodded and drummed his fingers on the desk until a cleared throat made him look up to see Wesley still standing in the doorway. "Something else you needed, Wes?"
"Yes, actually. We have a meeting on the Dukeson case to see if we can reach a settlement. Did you forget?"
"The Dukeson case?"
Wesley sighed. "Patricia Dukeson, Angel. She's the witch from Irvine who had a daughter with one of the lesser demons last year and we're representing her in her custody case." He shot the vampire an odd look. "Ring any bells?"
Damn, he'd forgotten all about that case, and it was one of his special projects, too. Angel rubbed his temples again and wondered for the thousandth time exactly what he'd done to tick the Powers off badly enough that he was forced to deal with both Spike and Lindsey McDonald. "Yeah, I'll be right in. Sorry, I've just been... preoccupied."
Wesley nodded. "Try not to wait too long." With that gentle admonition, he walked away, leaving Angel to shake his head and try to forget about emails, drugs and enemies so he could get back to helping people like Patricia. The vampire took a deep breath and stood up, then grabbed his file folder and headed out in the direction Wesley had gone.
The Dukeson meeting was followed by a conference call and an internal office meeting, then a budget review and two employee assessments. Somewhere in the middle of it he managed to squeeze in a fight with Spike and feed. Just another typical day at the office, Angel told himself as he straightened his desk up at the end of the night. He headed upstairs to his silent apartment, trying not to remember what it felt like to have other people around. After all, he liked his peace and preferred being left alone. Right?
Absolutely. Angel stripped and climbed into the shower, where he turned the water on as hot as he could stand it. He took more showers these days, as if he was always trying to clean off something that wouldn't quite wash away. The patter of the water on the tile echoed in the bathroom, a small sound that seemed very loud in the quiet space. He didn't need the chatter of friends or the articifical noise of the TV and stereo that Spike was always surrounding himself with. That was just another way of hiding, and Angel wasn't about to hide.
Turning the water off, he stepped out and towelled himself off, then changed into a pair of silk sleep pants. A last mug of blood from his private supply and he was ready for bed. Angel settled down onto the mattress with a sigh and closed his eyes, ready to let the cares of the day slip away, from the Dukeson case to the budgets to the drug that email had talked about...
His last conscious thought was that he had to tell Wesley about the drug in the morning.
The bed dipped under an added weight and a pair of soft lips brushed his in a teasing caress before they parted and a tongue darted out to press against his mouth. Angel opened his mouth automatically, and was rewarded when that tongue slipped inside to curl around his own. He returned the kiss for what seemed like hours, and as the mouth withdrew, opened his eyes to see- "Spike!"
A low laugh answered him. "Expectin' someone else, were you?"
Angel didn't reply, too busy trying to process whatever the hell had just happened. Spike! Was in his bed! Naked!! And looking all too tempting for Angel's peace of mind, too. The platinum blond hair was damp from a recent shower and falling in a curly mess around the angular lines of his face, drawing attention both to those razor sharp cheekbones and the brilliant blue eyes that were filled with a heat that skittered down Angel's spine, making him swallow hard. His gaze slid down to the full pink lips that had just been kissing him - kissing him!!! - and then down to the smooth muscles of Spike's chest and the abdomen that always made him want to lick ice cream off it...
No! Stop it! Angel admonished himself, trying to pull his eyes away from the sheet that lay pooled in Spike's lap, the sheet that was twitching and starting to rise, slipping a little with each movement- "What- what are you doing in here, Spike?" he stammered, desperate for anything to take his mind off what was under that sheet.
"Don't know where else I'd be," was the maddening reply. "Would you rather I was naked in someone else's bed? Buffy's, maybe? Or Lindsey? He seemed like he might be a bit of a good time, didn't he?"
Angel growled, and Spike laughed. "Don't seem to like those ideas, do you?"
"No," he ground out. "You stay away from them."
Spike stretched out on the bed, the bedsheet dropping down to his hip, riding low enough to expose the line of one hipbone. He reached out to stroke Angel's collarbone with a featherlight touch, leaving Angel surprised at the gentleness of it. "Wouldn't dream of gettin' out of this bed just now, luv. Got nothin' to worry about there. Already told you - I'm yours: body, heart an' soul, the whole deal."
While Angel stared at him, too stunned to reply, the blond slid closer, his hand flattening on Angel's chest and creeping up to delve into dark hair. "An' you're mine," he whispered just before he pulled Angel down to kiss him. In two hundred years, Angel didn't think he'd ever been kissed quite like this. It was tender and loving, with a darker undercurrent that tugged him under and rolled him about like a helpless toy. Love and lust and ownership lived there, and he wasn't sure which he wanted more.
"Well?" Angel stared up into blue eyes, belatedly realizing that Spike was expecting an answer of some kind. He licked his lips, savoring the taste of nicotine, blood and mint that lingered there, then whispered, "I'm yours." Hearing the words spoken would probably have thrown him into an instant panic if he hadn't been too busy being kissed into a second dizzying whirl immediately after. As it was, there was too much else to concentrate on to worry about what he'd just said, far more important things like the way Spike's tongue stroked his or the feel of Spike's skin like satin over sleek muscle as Angel gripped his arms like a drowning man.
And that was it, wasn't it? He was drowning, lost in Spike and going under for the third time, but somehow he couldn't seem to care. Not when Spike pressed closer and he could feel a hard length along his hip that mirrored the erection already tenting his pants. Not when a fingernail scratched over his nipple and a hungry mouth drifted down to tease his neck with an expertness that only a century's worth of life could give. Angel moaned, one hand moving up to hold Spike's head in place.
"Not yet," the blond murmured, ducking away from Angel's hand. "No bitin' until I'm inside you, remember?"
Inside-? Angel stared dazedly up into wicked blue eyes. He'd never let his childe fuck him before, never told anyone about the yearning that sometimes made him ache with emptiness, never given any hint of his most secret fantasy, so how the hell had Spike figured it out?
He opened his mouth to ask, but Spike's hand slid down to curl around his cock, squeezing him through his pants and all that emerged was a ragged moan. Spike's answering smile was slow and filled with a dark purpose that sent a shiver down Angel's spine. "Yeah, knew that'd get to ya. You thinkin' about it now, luv? Thinkin' about how I'm gonna feel slidin' into you, fillin' you right to the brim, hmmm?"
Angel pressed up into that knowing hand, muttering, "God, yes. Want it... need it..."
"I know you do, baby. Gonna give it to you, too. Fuck you all night long, make you scream for me." Spike was rocking against him, erection sliding along Angel's hip, and it was all Angel could do to keep from grabbing him and demanding to get fucked right away.
They kissed again, tongues tangling as the heat between them rose. Spike's hand slid into Angel's pants and Angel ripped his mouth away with a wordless cry when bare fingers touched flesh. It ratcheted the need up to an almost unbearable level, feeling the soft touch right where he ached, but the best part was knowing this was just the start, that soon he would have it all. "Spike," he whimpered, squirming against the hand that was touching him and the hard prick rubbing against him. "Spike, please..."
"That's it. You can feel it, can't you, how close you are? Gonna come for me soon, Angel?" Those long fingers stroked him, teasing his climax ever closer until he wanted to scream. "So fuckin' beautiful when you come, luv. Wanna see it, wanna feel you come. Gonna fuck you soooo good after it, too."
The promise was the final straw. Angel's hips thrust up and he came with a cry of "SPIKE!" that rang in his ears even as it yanked him back into reality. The reality that found him still coming in his pants as he woke, his childe's name and taste lingering on his lips as though the blond were right there in bed with him. But when the storm at last passed and he sagged bonelessly on the bed, there was only the hard mattress and the silent, empty room.
Angel's breath slowed and finally stopped, and he lay still for a moment, clarity slowly returning. Something was wrong. He'd dreamed about doing... THAT before, but never like that, where it was so real he couldn't tell it from real life. It was a trick, one of Spike's plots to manipulate him and get what he wanted. It had to be a spell of some kind or- he paled when he remembered the email from yesterday- that drug. Oh, God. Had someone given him the drug while he slept? Was he wrong and Lindsey and Spike had been planning this all along?
He had to call Wesley. Had to get him to research that drug and find a cure. And maybe in the meantime they could find something to keep the dream from coming back. After all, it wasn't like he'd been poisoned, he told himself, but even as he planned a way out of his current predicament, he was shoving his sweats down and wrapping his hand around his half-hard dick, stroking himself back to a full hard-on. Later, he promised himself. He'd take care of everything... later.
Now, though... now he could let go, remember the images and sensations from the dream, and take some conscious pleasure from it. After all, sex dreams were just the body's way of letting the mind know what it needed, right? And it had been a while since he really indulged, usually just settling for jerking off in the shower, so he was bound to be a little tense. Nothing wrong with relaxing, was there? It would help when he went to talk to Wesley if he wasn't so stressed out. And by the end of the morning, Angel planned on being very relaxed.
His decision made, Angel kicked the sweatpants the rest of the way off and reached for the bedside table, pulling a small tube out of the drawer there. Just the feel of his hand closing around it made him ache, his body taking over to demand the pleasure that it knew was coming. A twist of wrist, a squeeze and two fingers were quickly coated with a slick sheen of lube. The tube was tossed aside as he lay down, legs drawing up to rest his feet flat on the bed.
Angel closed his eyes, slowly stroking his dick while he imagined a figure hovering above him. And if that figure had light hair and blue eyes that burned into him, it was his secret. He moved his hand down between his legs, carefully easing one finger inside his own body. The slight burn made him moan and tilt his hips up, but somehow he managed to force himself to go slow. It had been a while since he'd done this, and he wanted to draw it out so he could savor every sensation.
He began to twist and turn his finger, then when he felt like he might scream, he slid the second finger in to join the first, panting softly as his body protested the stretch. His hand slowed and then stopped, leaving him trembling with the effort to keep still, but he fought to control it. When he could stand it no more, he pushed down onto his fingers. "Please," he whispered to those blue eyes in his mind. "Please... I need it."
Holding his hands still, Angel began to move, first thrusting into his hand and then back onto his fingers. He moaned as the first rush of pleasure filled him, the sense of being fucked and fucking all at once. God, it felt good! How had he let this go for so long? He shifted, then pressed up and back again, a slow, deliberate motion of his hips that made him want to tear at the covers and scream.
It was always like this, a taste of something that he knew there was more of. How many times had he watched William's face when he was taking him or heard the girls scream while he drove into them and wished he was on the receiving end of that overwhelming bliss that made them writhe uncontrollably? He'd thought about this, dreamed about it, jerked off to it more times than he could count, but never actually gotten up the courage to really ask for it. Even now, when it was just him alone in the room, he fought to keep quiet and hold onto his control instead of letting it all overtake him.
The pleasure rose until he wasn't able to keep up the slow pace, until his hips were moving with increasing speed and he was avidly fucking himself upon his fingers. He was riding the crest of pleasure, just a few strokes from orgasm when he heard the door of his apartment open and a voice called out, "Angel?"
Automatically his hand closed around the base of his erection, holding back the climax that threatened from hearing that voice. And then it came again, closer this time. "Angel? You here, mate?"
Easing his fingers free, Angel wiped them off on the sheet, rolled out of bed, and went to answer the call of his heart's desire.
Spike opened the door to the penthouse, muttering under his breath about pompous officious ex-Watchers who just couldn't allow anybody to have any fun. He still didn't see why he had to be the one to come fetch Angel down for the meeting. "Angel?"
There was no answer, but he couldn't have left or Spike would've passed him on the way up. Besides, his scent was still- Spike froze when the scent registered. He could smell Angel, but this wasn't the usual mixture of grooming products and blood that he associated with the souled version of his sire. No, this was musk and skin, sweat and... sex. It was Angelus, and he swallowed hard before trying again. "Angel? You here, mate?"
Just when he was about to tell Wesley to get Red on the horn so she could shove the soul back in, Angel's voice called out, "Be right out, Spike!"
Spike relaxed a little, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. While a part of him that he would never, ever admit existed still missed his sire, he wasn't anxious to come face to face with the full insane deal anytime soon. Angel might be a right git, but when the alternative was Angelus, he suddenly started looking a helluva lot better to deal with. "Hurry on up, then. Percy's down there ready to call in the national guard if you don't..."
His mouth went dry and words were completely forgotten as he turned around to see Angel coming towards him. He was crawling across the floor on his hands and knees, graceful as a panther stalking prey, and it took Spike a second to realize that he was naked. But once he noticed, there was no way he could look away. The play of muscles as they moved beneath his skin, sliding along his back and arms, the honey color of skin that hadn't lost its luster in over two hundred years out of the sun, all of it combined to mesmerize him.
"Hello, Spike." Was that really Angel's voice, rolling out in a sultry breathless purr that promised outright everything Marilyn's had only hinted at?
"Um, Angel? Dunno if you noticed, but you're a bit... naked," Spike stammered. Angel didn't say anything, just prowled closer. Spike took a step backwards, then another and another until he was pressed up against the door, watching his sire crawl over to him. The sheer eroticism of the sigh was enough to make him want-but that wasn't right. Angel hadn't touched him since he'd been back, hadn't shown any indication that he wanted him like that anymore.
"Angel, pet, you might wanna go back in there an' put somethin' o- ooooohhhh, my God!" Spike's knees buckled and if it hadn't been for the wall at his back, he'd have dropped to the floor right then and there. He stared down blindly at the dark head that nuzzled him through his jeans. One hand settled tentatively on Angel's head, and his sire made a sound that was a cross between a purr and a whimper.
It took a moment for him to realize where he'd heard that sound before, and then Angel did it again and memory slammed into him. This was how he used to greet Angelus when he wanted him: he'd strip naked and crawl over to him, and that sound always got him- God, what the fuck was going on? "Angel, stop," he commanded, fingers tightening in dark strands.
The whimper became a whine, but he obeyed. For a second they hovered on the brink of something, both panting more from instinct than need, and then Angel looked up. "Please..." he whispered, the word feeling strange on his lips.
Spike looked down into brown velvet eyes, taken aback by the mixture of heat, desire and sheer need in them. Was this what Angelus had seen all those years ago? And if it was, how the hell had he ever managed to walk away from it? His hand slid out of Angel's hair, moving to cup his cheek, thumb stroking his lip, and then he made his decision. "Take me out, baby. Want you to suck my cock."
Angel shuddered, the raw words sending his arousal soaring through the roof. He fumbled with the button and zipper of Spike's jeans, excitement making him clumsy. Spike did nothing to help him, just watched intently until at last the fastenings gave way and he could reach inside for his prize. When Angel's fingers closed around him, Spike moaned, pressing into the touch as denim was peeled away from aching flesh.
One large hand moved in a slow stroke, brown eyes fixed avidly to where a single drop of clear fluid appeared. As if hypnotized, Angel leaned forward, tongue darting out to capture the drop before it could fall, flicking lightly over skin before retreating. The flavor exploded on his tongue, a siren's song of salt and blood and Spike. How was it that he'd never done this before? Never knelt to taste his boy in all the years that they'd spent together, never taken the time to worship Spike's body the way it deserved?
Well, he was going to make up for lost time now. Angel opened his mouth, licking at the tip of Spike's cock once more before taking in in and closing his lips around it. Spike groaned, then gasped when Angel licked around the head, tongue curling over sensitive flesh, teasing the foreskin back and then dipping inside it. He didn't do anything other than hold him in his mouth and explore for several long minutes until long fingers slipped back into his hair and urged him to slide forward and take more. He inched forward, then pulled back, setting a slow rhythm that allowed him the chance to map every line and commit it to memory.
Spike was in heaven... or maybe hell. He fought to keep still while Angel's head bobbed up and down, but the curious tongue that flicked over him at random intervals made it hard as hell. He gritted his teeth, one hand stroking through short dark hair, the other curling into a fist at his side. God, how could it feel this damn good when it was obvious Angel had never done this before? It just wasn't fair!
Then Angel took him all the way in until his nose was buried in dark curls. He paused and made that whimpering purr again, the vibrations threatening to blow the top of Spike's head off. "Fuck, Angel!" he gasped, hips automatically moving in a short thrust before he managed to control himself. Another low sound from Angel and Spike's tenuous control snapped.
He grabbed his sire's hair and pulled him up and off his cock. Angel moaned and then whimpered. Spike's growl silenced him before he wrapped one hand around his shaft and ordered, "Open for me." When Angel obeyed, Spike slid inside and pushed almost all the way to the back of his mouth. "Like that, huh? Want me to fuck that pretty mouth, is that it?"
Angel's groan was answer enough. "Fuck!" Spike gasped, pulling back and returning. "Gonna get it, baby." He forced himself to go as slowly as he could, ordering softly, "Swallow," when he was right at the other man's throat. Angel obeyed, amazed at how full he felt when Spike slipped into his throat and he constricted around him. The strangled moan from above told him that was good, so he did it again, then again before Spike's hand tightened and held him still as the blond retreated.
Another slow press of his hips, and when Angel took him all the way in again, there was no more thought about being gentle or making it easy. Spike fucked his mouth with short thrusts, not wanting to lose the feel of his mouth more than he had to. He looked down and hissed, "So fuckin' hot with your mouth wrapped around my dick, pet. Gonna come, shoot right down your throat. You want that?"
The low growl in response sent him careening over the edge. Spike howled, a long eerie sound that seemed to hang in the air as he came in bursts of starlight. Angel fought to pull back near the end, and Spike couldn't hold him still, could only watch wide-eyed as his sire drew back so he could taste his come.
Spike's flavor filled his world, and Angel drank him down eagerly, licking his lips when he finally released him. If he'd known that it would be this good, that Spike would taste like that, he'd have shoved him against a wall and gone to his knees when he first laid eyes on him! He cleaned Spike in the aftermath, long sweeps of his tongue bathing his skin while Spike combed one hand lazily through his hair.
Spike watched Angel clean him, still dazed from coming harder than he could recall in recent memory. When Angel released him, it was to press a kiss in the hollow of his hip with a soft whimper and whisper hoarsely, "Please."
Again he begged for some unnamed something. Spike opened his mouth to ask, but when those dark eyes raised to his again, the words lodged in his throat. He knew that look, knew the desire that shone there from his own experience. And there was only one thing that he'd ever wanted when that took hold. He nodded and said quietly, "Get on your bed, pet. Hands an' knees, an' then don't move."
Heat flared in the dark depths, but Angel didn't say anything, only nodded and turned around, crawling back into the bedroom with the same slow, pantherlike gait that he'd stalked Spike with. Spike watched him for a long minute, then tucked himself back into his jeans, stripped off his shirt and walked over to the phone. Pressing the button with Wesley's name next to it, he stated, "Angel's not feelin' too hot. Got a piece of a demon on patrol, needs to rest up. Go ahead an' start the meetin' - I'll stay here with him, make sure he's all right."
The Watcher accepted his explanation readily, but any thought of him fled the second he hung the receiver up. Dropping his shirt on the floor, Spike followed Angel into the bedroom to see if he was actually going to get to live out his own private wet dream after all.
The sight of Angel kneeling on the bed in a shot straight out of some of his wildest fantasies was enough to make Spike instantly hard. He prowled towards the bed, walking around to the other man's side. "You were a pretty bad boy out there, luv," he said quietly. "Jumpin' me like that. Were you really that hot for my cock, that you couldn't wait, hmm?"
He whimpered. It was a question he really didn't want to answer, but when Spike's hand smoothed over his shoulderblade, the answer was wrenched from him. "Yes! Want you.. wanted you-"
"For a long time now. I know, I know," he soothed, stroking down over his spine. God, this was better than he'd dared to dream! "Gonna give you everythin' you want, pet, show you things you never dreamed-" Spike stopped cold when his fingertips brushed over Angel's hole.
Angel's wet hole.
"What manner of game are you playin' at, Peaches?"
"Gotta be some kinda game! Cause you're not seriously expectin' me to believe you set this whole havin' me fetch you thing up so you could get me alone, are you?" Blue eyes narrowed. "Or were you thinkin' someone else was gonna be the one that came up here instead?"
"What? No! No plan!" Angel shook his head, but the icy silence behind him didn't seem to be buying it. Shame warred with fear and lost, and he started babbling, words tripping over each other in his rush to keep Spike there and touching him. "I had a dream about you and when I woke up I needed-"
"Needed what, pet?" Two fingers stroked over his skin again as Spike questioned him in a low voice.
Angel gasped and arched, his body begging for what it had to have. "Needed to feel... inside. God, please!"
"So you just lubed yourself up an' waited for the first available cock to come along, is that it?" Spike's voice sharpened, taking on a dangerous note.
Angel shook his head, lust and a rising discomfort making it hard to concentrate. "No! Wanted you, fucked myself thinking about you!" The fingers that had been stroking him slid inside and he groaned, then shoved back onto them.
Spike watched with glittering eyes, one hand sliding down to squeeze his cock through his jeans. "Know what I think, Angel? I think you're just a slut, need somethin' to fill you up an' you really don't care what that is." A nail scratched over his prostate and Angel's only reply was a ragged moan. "Know what sluts get, Angel?"
"Fucked?" he asked hopefully.
Spike's eyes darkened. "Oh yeah. But they get somethin' else, too. They get punished, especially demandin' lil sluts like you."
A bolt of heat shot straight through him, leaving Angel dizzy. "Yes please," he whispered hoarsely.
The first smack of Spike's hand on his skin jolted him forward, tearing a moan from his lips. He waited for the next blow, for the fury that was undoubtedly going to be unleashed, but nothing else came. And just when he was about to ask, another hard blow caught him high on one thigh.
Spike stroked his hand over the mark he could see trying to form, then asked, "Needed this for a while, haven't you, pet?"
Angel bit his lip, struggling to hold the words in. He couldn't give in, couldn't tell him the rest, not if he wanted to walk out of this with any pride whatsoever. Better to let Spike beat him black and blue, then fuck him bloody first. And he had no doubt that's what was about to happen - he'd taught him too well as Angelus to expect anything less.
But the next strike didn't come. Instead, Spike eased one of his fingers free, leaving Angel feeling empty in a way he'd never known existed. He opened his mouth to protest, but a low voice stopped him. "Didn't say you could talk just yet. Now, you're the one started it, but I'm doin' the drivin', so we're doin' this my way. An' my way is that when you answer me - truthfully - you get a reward. You don't answer, or lie to me, an' you lose somethin' good. Keep it up an' I'll walk outta here an' shag the first willin' bloke that crosses my path, then make you smell him on me for weeks."
He paused, letting his words sink in. "Now... you wanna stop an' chalk it up to a bad batch of blood, or are you gonna play nice?"
Angel should be furious. He should be roaring his denial of Spike trying to assert authority and then fucking his childe into next week to prove his dominance. He should tell the insolent boy to fuck whoever he wanted, so long as he got the hell out of his bedroom. He should definitely NOT be finding this newfound confidence so fucking hot! But when he felt Spike's remaining finger start to slide back, he blurted out, "Yes!"
"Yes what, pet?"
"Yes... Sir." As he said it, a tremor slid through him, and just like that, control was Spike's. A strange calm seemed to settle over him, the effects of the drug no doubt making it easier to yield to those secret thoughts that had always been kept locked tightly away before this.
The blond chuckled. "Much as I like that little extra bit, still doesn't answer my question. Is that yes, you're gonna obey the rules, or yes, you've needed this?"
Angel hesitated just a second, and when a hand struck him again, he yelped, "Both!" He was rewarded when Spike's finger slipped back inside him, and he couldn't resist wiggling, savoring the sensation of being filled. A sharp smack stopped him quickly, and this time he couldn't hold back his soft whine.
One hand stroked over the curve of his ass, and Spike asked, "What were you dreamin' about that made you so hungry that you had to fuck yourself, hmm?"
He fought the urge to writhe on the fingers that were sunk deep inside him, the words coming effortlessly now. "About you." A hard swat made it clear that more was needed, so he hurried to expand on the idea. "You were in my bed, touching me, and you said you'd fuck me after I came for you."
"Wanna get fucked, don't you?" Angel's low groan was answer enough, but Spike pretended not to notice as his fingers slowly retreated before pressing deep inside again. "Need to feel a hard cock inside you, splittin' you in two, takin' you hard an' fast, yeah? How long've you wanted it?"
"Forever." He yelped at the two measured slaps that followed. Spike's deliberate, careful spanking was undoing him in ways he wouldn't have thought possible. "Since- ohhh, God, since you were turned, at least."
Spike curled his fingers, drawing his fingertips slowly over his sire's prostate. "Tell me."
Fuck, how was he supposed to talk when Spike did that? "Used to watch... watch you, and you always seemed to love it so much. Wondered what it'd be like, thought about it, dreamed about it, even jerked off to it. Remember that night... in the study?"
A soft hiss sounded behind him. "Yeah, I remember. Walked in on you strokin' off an' ended up gettin' bent over the desk. 'Cept now I'm thinkin' you were the wantin' me to be the one doin' the bendin', is that it?"
He nodded, almost too lost in pleasure to speak. It was just as well, because Spike's next order robbed him of what little coherency he had left. "Fuck yourself on my fingers, pet. Wanna see how bad you need it."
Angel rocked forward, then shoved back hard, yelping when Spike's palm struck the underside of his ass. "Didn't say you could go that fast, did I? Greedy lil slut."
The words skittered along his spine and he moaned. He rocked again, slower and steadier, and was rewarded with a twisting motion that made him gasp. His fingers never felt this good! And if this was just fingers, what was it going to be like when Spike finally fucked him?
The question seemed to be running through Spike's mind as well. "Can't wait to feel me in there, can you? You thinkin' about it, pet, what I'm gonna feel like inside?"
God, he was going to kill him! Angel tried to focus beyond the pleasure to the questions, but a swat distracted him and he couldn't do anything but whine.
"Got you all hot an' bothered suckin' me off like that, did it?" Spike's hand fell again, goading him forward, a little faster this time. "Wanna get fucked, luv? Want me to slide up behind you an' take you?"
Angel licked his lips and breathed, "Yeah. Wanna feel you fuck me."
"Such a pretty lil slut you are." Smack! "Gonna fuck you so hard, baby, make you feel me there for weeks." Crack! "Tell me, Angel. Tell me what you want!"
The last blow was between his legs, a stinging swat that seemed to send heat rushing up through him. And just like that, the floodgates opened. Angel began to rock faster as the words tumbled from his lips. "Wanna be your slut. Wanna- oooohh, wanna get fucked. Need it, need it so bad. Please, Spike!"
"Shhh, not gonna let you down, don't you worry." Spike's fingers slid free and he nearly screamed at the sudden loss, even as he spread his legs wider, waiting for the press of the cock he'd waited so long for that was surely coming next.
But there was nothing. Nothing except air and the creak of the mattress as Spike shifted to one side. "Look at you, pet, so hard an' hungry for me. Bet it wouldn't take two strokes an' you'd come all over yourself just like a kid."
Angel whimpered, hips involuntarily jerking at the imagery Spike's words created. "Please," he whispered, all thoughts of dignity forgotten in his need to finally get what he'd dreamed about so often.
One finger lightly traced his erection, the touch soft enough to be almost more imagined than felt. "Come for me, luv."
Angel's back bowed and he threw his head back with a scream. Come jetted out of his cock, soaking the sheets underneath him. He heard a whispered, "Bloody hell," and when he finally got his wits about him enough to look over at Spike, the wide blue eyes sent a bolt of longing straight to his heart.
Spike's tongue darted out to wet his lips. "Fucking beautiful when you come, you are. Makes me wanna see that again and again." He slid a hand down to stroke himself, the motion drawing Angel's attention. "Still want this, then?"
Angel's mouth went dry as he stared at Spike, at the way he stroked his hand slowly up his hard cock. He'd been asked a question, an important one that he knew he had to answer, but he couldn't seem to remember what it was.
Spike shook his head, a smile playing around his lips as he recognized the lust-dazed expression on the other man's face. "Angel? Gotta tell me, mate," he repeated. "Still wanna get fucked?"
Fucked. Angel's body jerked at the word as if from a blow. He opened his mouth, but the word wouldn't come out, so he just nodded, slowly and first and then faster when Spike didn't immediately move to act on it.
The blond shook his head. "Not good enough, pet. Wanna hear it, gotta hear the words. Tell me what you want, Angel. Ask me to fuck you like a real good boy an' I'll let you have everythin' you want."
"I want it," he whispered in a hoarse voice, then licked his lips and asked, "Please, Spike? Fuck me, make me... make me scream?"
Spike's smile was sin made flesh. "With pleasure." He ran his free hand over Angel's back, his eyes darkening when the other man shivered. "Where's the lube, pet?"
Angel reached blindly for it, hand sliding in under the pillows until it closed on the tube. He held it out to Spike, but the blond shook his head. "Want you to do it," he said in a low voice. Angel swallowed, heat sparking through his whole body with the need he could see in Spike's face. He nodded and rose up onto his knees, flicking the cap open and squeezing some of the lube out.
Spike's hand fell away as Angel reached for him, fingers tentatively smoothing the gel over him until they closed around his cock and stroked. Both men moaned, but it was Angel who found himself unable to tear his eyes away from his hand wrapped around Spike's dick. He'd touched him countless times over the years, but this was different enough to make him feel like it was the first time. Never before had he slicked Spike up so his childe could fuck him.
When he couldn't take anymore, Spike pushed Angel's hand away as gently as he could. "Hands an' knees again, luv. Gonna fuck you now."
Angel could've sworn he felt his hole twitch at that. He dropped back onto his hands, and shuddered when he felt the mattress dip down as Spike climbed back up onto the bed. Fingers trailed down his back, stroking over him, then one hand slid over to curl around his hip. Just when he was ready to scream, he felt the first press of something round and much bigger than either Spike's fingers or his own.
Spike guided his cock to Angel's hole, then pushed forward, grabbing his other hip as he pressed slowly into his sire's body. It was difficult not to just bury himself into the silk that squeezed him, and his fingers dug into Angel's hips as he struggled for control. "Fuck, you're tight!" he gasped.
There was pressure, and the faint edge of pain that he knew could've been much worse if he hadn't been so well-prepared. Angel dropped his head, panting softly, doing his best to relax as Spike pushed into him. He wanted to lunge forward or shove back onto him, wanted to move with a need that was quickly bordering on desperation. "Please," he begged softly. "Spike, need to... need you to-"
"Need me to move?" Spike asked, his voice hoarse and gravelly with desire. "Want me fuckin' you nice an' slow, pet?"
He groaned and tried to push back, but Spike tightened his grip and he stilled. "Gotta tell me," Spike said, and Angel growled, "Yes! Fuck me, dammit!"
"Cheeky bottom," Spike snarled, pulling back, and for a second Angel feared he was about to pull out completely, but then Spike lunged forward, burying himself in one hard thrust, then ground against him until he felt Angel tense and gasp. "Like that, don'tcha? Like feelin' me inside, rubbin' up against that spot for you?"
"God, yeah," Angel moaned. Spike made an approving sound behind him and repeated the motion, this time sliding in slower, letting Angel feel every inch as it rubbed along his body. The difference in sensation was enough to make Angel try and push back again, and this time, Spike allowed it. Shoving back against the dick that filled him sent another wave of heat washing over him, and it seemed to spark something in Spike, because he started moving a little faster.
Spike had wanted to take it slow, wanted to make Angel writhe and beg and scream, but the eager little push was almost his undoing. Knowing that Angel wanted it as badly as he used to, feeling the way his body tightened around his cock... it was almost too much. He gripped his sire's hips and growled, "Dunno how much longer I can hold back, you keep doin' that."
Angel whined low in his throat. "Don't hold back," he urged in a low tone. "Need to be fucked, Spike. Give it to me- ohhhh, just like that, please..."
"Fuck, you really are a slut," Spike groaned, grinding against him. "Hang on, pet. Gonna show you how sluts get fucked, yeah?"
He grabbed the sheet underneath him, gritting his teeth as Spike started to move harder, faster, each thrust of his cock sending sparks shooting through Angel. It was like dying and being reborn in the very best way, and he opened his mouth to tell Spike, but all that came out were a series of gutteral moans and animal whimpers.
Spike seemed to understand, though, because he started fucking him in real abandon, pulling Angel tight against him until there was no choice left but to take it. A hand slid up his back and yanked on his shoulder, pulling him up against Spike's chest, and he felt ridges brush the back of his neck as Spike panted, "Gettin' close... gonna come soon. You want it, hmmm? Wanna feel me come, fill you all up?"
The words were like lightning bolts that fried his brain and hardened his dick to the point of pain, and all Angel could do was nod. He felt his own control slipping until suddenly he shifted as well. Spike heard the crunch of his sire's facial bones, and it seemed to spur something inside him, because he began to hump against him wildly, muttering against his neck, telling him how good he felt, how tight and perfect wrapped around his cock, and every word made Angel's dick twitch until he realized with a distant surprise that he was about to come too.
Fangs slid into his shoulder and Angel shouted, his entire body bowing as he came under the dual assault. Spike groaned and he could feel him come as well, spurts of liquid shooting up into his body. God, that was Spike. Spike was coming inside him! He felt his dick twitch again, as if just knowing that was enough to make him come again... or was it still? He really couldn't tell, could only hold on through the volleys of fire and pleasure that ripped through him, until eventually he sagged back against the slender frame behind him.
Spike eased the bigger man down to the mattress, then followed, stretching out along his side to lap at the jagged bite marks. Angel wrapped an arm around his waist, and Spike told himself that he was absolutely in no way cuddling- just cleaning the old man up while he gathered his strength enough to move. And if that took a while, well, it had been a brilliant shag, so that was only to be expected. He'd just give Angel a little time to recover and then be on his way...
The two vampires were sound asleep a few hours later when a trim figure entered the room, stealing soundlessly over to stand beside the bed. "Well, I did what I could," Cordelia muttered. "Guess that means the rest is up to you two."
She smiled down at the pair that lay tangled together in the wreckage of the sheets. One hand reached out to Angel's cheek, but didn't make contact. She'd done her part, shown him what he could have if he wasn't too dense to reach out and take it, and now she had to move on. She took some small comfort in knowing that at least he wouldn't be alone anymore. Looking at Spike and the fierce way he clung to Angel even in his sleep, she smiled. "Take care of him, Blondie," she whispered.
Bending down, a warm pair of lips pressed first against the blond's temple before moving to the brunet's forehead. "And Angel? You're welcome."
I want Angel to receive an email, letter, or memo (anonymously sent) that describes a new drug that can cause the person who has taken it (or been given it against their will) to lose their ability to control their sexual urges. This would mean that if they were already sexually attracted to a person and either keeping that desire hidden, or in such deep denial about it that they can't even acknowledge it to themselves, they wouldn't be able to prevent themselves from acting on those desires/feelings. After getting this info (and thinking about it, worrying that one of his enemies could use this on him and humiliate him by causing him to reveal his deepest sexual desires) Angel goes to sleep and has a sexual dream about Spike. On waking, he decides he's been given this drug and that's why he had the dream - so that when he sees Spike he just pretty much goes for it, believing that he's unable to stop himself anyway. I'd like Spike to act shocked at first, but then kind of go with a "well if you really want it I might as well go along with it" type of attitude. I'd like Angel to want Spike to take control and direct their encounter. Spanking is never bad, biting is OMG perfect, and some dirty talk by Spike making Angel admit how much he wants these things and how long he's secretly wanted them. I'd like Spike to top Angel with Angel practically begging him to do it. If you'd like to reveal where the info on the drug that "made" Angel behave this way actually came from, who sent it and what their real motivation was - that's up to you. Also you can decide whether or not Angel actually was drugged or if someone manipulated him to make this happen.
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