Disclaimer: I keep checking, but they haven't shown up there yet...
Dedication: For my sweet boy, to jump start his muse
In the Closet
"-woulda had him, too, if you'd let me drive instead of insisting on bein' the world's biggest and poofiest control-freak."
"Spike, drop it." Angel stalked out of the elevator, followed closely by the blond who seemed to have made it his mission in life to annoy him.
"Gladly, ya ponce! Just agree that I can do the drivin' from now on and we'll forget all about it."
"Let you drive? You don't seem to realize there are any numbers on the speedometer below 60!"
"The quarterly expense reports need your signature today, Boss. Oh, and I left your blood on your desk as well." Harmony didn't look up from her magazine as the bickering pair walked by her, a nod from Angel the only sign that she'd been heard.
Spike snorted, hiding a twinge of envy behind another biting remark. "Better too fast than drivin' like an' old lady out for a Sunday cruise, Grandma!"
"I'm not about to let you run my car's transmission into the ground and rack up enough tickets to pay off the national debt just because you can't be bothered to have a little patience!"
"An' there we go-it's all about YOU, isn't it? Your car, your apartment, your soddin' destiny! You just can't stand to think about anyone that isn't you, can you?"
Angel tossed the report he'd picked up back on the desk and glared at Spike. "As opposed to you being obsessed with taking anything and everything that belongs to me, you mean?"
"Seems to me I didn't have to take anythin'. She gave it all to me, mate, sent you toddlin' back here an' declared me her champion, or are you forgettin' that?"
No, he hadn't forgotten that, hadn't forgotten the cost of being the champion or anything else that had followed it. He remembered the pain that had clawed at him from the inside and left him shaking and empty when it receded. Buffy's red eyes and Dawn's hitching sobs had only confirmed what he'd known seconds after it happened. The reminder brought him up short and he wondered how it was that he'd allowed the memory of all that to slip away beneath the irritating reality.
Spike's voice broke into his thoughts and he walked around the desk to see the blond pacing as he ranted at him, "-everythin' I could want an' what do I do? Give up any shot at it to stay an' help your ungrateful fat ass! Course, you can't admit that, cause that would mean you'd have to admit you're not the omnipotent fuckin' savior you've set yourself up to be, right? Serve you right if I did pick up an' take off. Oughta do it, too, just leave you to-"
Angel's mouth over his effectively ended his tirade, and there was no sound except a muffled groan as Spike surrendered to temptation. It lasted only a few seconds before he pulled back, knocking away the hands that had bracketed his cheeks. Time seemed to slow, the air between them hanging viscous and heavy as they stared at each other in silence, each unwilling to be the first to look away, or make the first move.
The briefest blink of an eyelash, and Spike was on him. Their mouths met and fused in a hard kiss while hands tore at clothing, frantic for the first taste of skin. The kiss seemed to have unleashed a hundred years of hunger and yearning in the younger vampire, all of it pouring out of him in a tidal wave of inarticulate moans and sobs. Angel welcomed the eager assault, and things were just beginning to get interesting when he heard a voice in the hallway: "-not sure about the possible ramifications of such a union. Maybe we should ask Angel?"
The vampire in question froze in his tracks. For a second he saw what his friends would see when they opened the door, and it sobered him as though someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over him. He slid his hand out of Spike's pants, earning an immediate growl of complaint, trying to prepare himself to face Wesley and whoever else was with him. A quick look at Spike made him rethink that idea, for there was no way he'd gotten rumpled like that fighting a demon!
Before he could talk himself out of it, Angel grabbed hold of Spike's hand and dragged the blond towards the penthouse elevator. But while he was still fumbling with the keypad, he heard the door begin to open. Knowing they had seconds to get out of sight, he yanked open the nearest door and shoved Spike in, slipping after him and shutting the door securely behind them.
It must have been in the very nick of time, for he'd barely closed the door when he heard Gunn say, "So where's the big man? Thought Harmony said he and Blondie Bear got in a little while back."
"He probably went upstairs to try and get away from Spike," Fred's sweet voice chimed in. "Or maybe take a shower. You know how messy some of those hunts can be. Remember that one time when we were all going out to dinner and a big blue demon jumped out at us?"
A low chuckle answered her. "I do indeed. The death throes managed to spoil my favorite linen shirt."
Angel started when an arm slid around his waist and a slim figure nestled up against his back. Turning his head so his lips brushed against Spike's ear, he whispered, "They'll leave soon, and we can go upstairs."
Spike grinned and gave Angel a light kiss to show he understood. He'd waited a hundred years, so ten minutes or so more wasn't going to kill him, even if his cock was trying to argue the point. Besides, there were lots of fun ways to pass the time while they waited. He nuzzled into Angel's neck at the same time as one hand slid down over Angel's hip, bent on showing him a few of them.
Angel tried to bat Spike's hand away, barely suppressing a growl that was equal parts warning and annoyance. He couldn't help but feel silly, hiding from his friends like some kid afraid his mother was going to catch him with porn. It was beneath his dignity to cower in a closet when he was a master vampire, dammit! The press of Spike's lips on his neck seemed to assuage some of his wounded pride, though, and when a hand settled on his shoulder, he turned at its urging to take the blond into his arms.
This time when he kissed him, it was like the frenzy from earlier had just... vanished, leaving only a honeyed sensuality in its wake. Angel's tongue slid into Spike's mouth to explore, twining and stroking until lips closed around it and sucked lightly. One hand found its way down to cup that perfect ass, pulling him closer still. They pressed against each other, losing themselves in kissing until Spike broke away. He slid down Angel's body like water, and when hands began to work his pants open, Angel was too drunk off their kisses to really protest.
The sound of his zipper going down, careful as it was, seemed overly loud in the small space, loud enough that he wondered if his friends on the other side of the door had heard. But the conversation continued, moving from battles to TV shows, as though they were perfectly content to never leave. Cloth slid away and a strong hand closed around his dick, squeezing him gently. Angel bit his lip, trying to keep quiet, but when a tongue swept up one side of his length and down the other, he nearly forgot how.
“Spike, we can't-” But even as he whispered a protest, his hand was sliding into crisp bleached hair and guiding his childe's head up to the tip of his aching shaft. Spike didn't respond to the words, but he took the hint and opened his mouth, tongue flicking out to lap up the droplet that had formed there before he slid down partway and sucked hard.
God, how could he have missed out on this? Angel moaned softly, leaning his head back against the wall, fingers combing through stiff strands, dislodging them from their gel until they came free to curl around his hand. He'd always loved to play with those curls, stroke them and tug them but now all he could do was hold still while they clung, holding him prisoner in the sweetest way.
Spike pulled back a little and flicked his tongue against the tip of his sire's cock, then moved further down, taking him in a little deeper. He wasn't actively trying to get Angel off, not yet, not when he couldn't hear the deep groans or harsh shout of his name that had always made this particular act one of his favorites. No, this was just to play while they waited for the humans to leave. His hand slid down to rub over his own cock through his jeans, the touch making him moan around Angel.
The vibration that shot through his body from his dick proved to be the last straw. Angel pulled him up and kissed him, hard and seeking, as though he could find the answers to the path that he had forgotten in his childe's mouth. He spun him around, one hand wrapping around the slender waist, sliding down to find the hard lump that spoke of desire and want and need, giving it a gentle squeeze. A soft gasp was his reward, and Spike's hips bucked into his touch, begging for more, always more.
Thankfully, Spike wore button-fly jeans, because Angel didn't have the patience to work a zipper down quietly. He ripped the jeans open and slid his hand inside, closing his hand around bare flesh at last. Spike moaned softly, squirming in his grip and Angel shushed him with a low murmur, then worked him free. He didn't immediately start stroking him, though, fingers instead straying idly over sensitive skin. The lack of light made the exploration more intense, narrowed his world to the dick in his hand, the tremors that this twist of the wrist elicited, or soft whimper that came when he flicked his fingernail like that. And Angel found himself enraptured with all of it.
Spike shoved his jeans down past his hips, but when he started to spread his legs and lean forward, Angel stopped him. Wrapping an arm around his chest, the older vampire pulled him back against his broad frame, groaning when his cock settled along the curve of Spike's ass. He rocked against Spike in a mimicry of what he knew they both wanted, the two men shuddering at the drag of hard shaft over soft skin. The voices from outside faded into a wordless murmur as Angel found a rhythm with both hand and hips, slowly working them both.
Lips pressed against the side of Spike's neck, a tongue trailing up until teeth closed gently on his ear. “Once they leave, I'm taking you upstairs and spending the next 48 hours buried inside you,“ Angel whispered.
“Fuck, I can't- Angel, I'm gonna- Ang-!” Angel's hand clamped over Spike's mouth, muffling his cry. Spike slid back, then lunged forward, and Angel could feel his childe's cock swell and then pulse like a living thing. Liquid spattered over the closet wall as Spike shook against him, head thrown back, mouth open under Angel's palm. He felt Spike's climax like it was his own, the close, cramped darkness of the closet bringing it home in a way that he'd never known before.
When the spasms subsided, leaving Spike limp and boneless against him, Angel's hand left his mouth, sliding down to his chest again to hold him close. He slowed his movements down, trying to draw this out, to savor the feeling of his cock gliding over the silken skin. The scent of sex was everywhere, the air thickening from it until it felt like molasses, heavy and sweet. He wondered briefly if his friends could smell it even with their human senses, but the thought wasn't enough to stop him, not when he could feel precome bubbling out of his slit to dampen Spike's skin.
Spike shuddered, pressing back against him as Angel released his softening cock, fingers drifting down to stroke and cradle his balls before settling on one hip. The pressure increased the spiral of heat deep in the brunet's belly and he turned his head to one side, biting Spike's shoulder to stifle his groan. He began to move faster, hips flexing as he climbed higher, coming closer to the sweet release that awaited him.
“Want you inside,“ Spike whispered, writhing against him. The feel of Angel's cock riding over his skin was driving him slowly crazy, offering what he needed without fully delivering.
“Soon,“ he breathed, sucking lightly over his pulse point. The shudder that it drew was almost enough to send him over the edge. God, he was close, so fucking close! His climax hovered just out of reach, tantalizing and teasing him with its nearness. He just needed one thing, one tiny thing to push him over... “Bite me.“
Fangs slid into his skin and with the first hard draw of his blood, Angel was lost. “FUCK, YEAH!” he roared, fingers digging into Spike's hip as he came in scalding bursts of liquid ecstasy. He was dizzy with it, drunk on the pleasure and the bite. Spike was his, marked in ways that any demon would recognize, painted with his scent, and as he eased back down to earth, he turned his head to capture the full lips in a soft kiss.
Tongues met and tangled together until suddenly Spike twisted away. “You screamed,“ he said hoarsely.
“Yeah. Well, you come like that and see if you don't- oh.“ The teasing light faded out of Angel's eyes as he realized what he'd done. There was no way they hadn't heard him, no chance that his friends weren't either sitting stunned and horrified in his office or making plans to chain him up again in case he had reverted to Angelus. He swallowed and drew back, then muttered, “Guess it's time to face the music.“
“Guess so,“ Spike echoed. They set about tucking themselves back into their pants, attempting to restore some kind of order to their wrinkled and stained clothes. Angel was reaching for the doorknob when Spike caught hold of his sleeve. “Don't have to go out there. Could wait in here if you want; just tell 'em you wanted some private space, yeah?“
“No.” Spike's hand fell away, the sting of rejection obvious on his face. “If you're mine, you're mine and they may as well get used to it now. I'm not going to make you a dirty little secret.”
Something flared in the blue eyes, a light that he'd never seen before, but Spike only nodded and slid his hand into Angel's. “We'll face 'em together, then.”
Angel smiled and opened the door to the office. The... empty office?!? “Think this means we finally caught a break?” Spike asked as he stepped out of the closet behind him.
As if on cue, the intercom beeped. “Um, Boss? Wesley said to tell you that when you were done with Spike he needed to see you before you went upstairs.”
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