A story in the Fanged Four verse

Pairing: Spike/Angelus

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: Slash, spanking, daddy!kink

A/N: Prompts "spatula", "blue", and "New Orleans". Silly, fluffy fun stuff!

Bon Temps


Angelus sat at the window, enjoying the spectrum of colors the fading light provided. He perused the crowd, picking and choosing victims at random. Mardi Gras reminded him of an endless buffet. You could pick your color, flavor, and drug tolerance in these happy, ready to sin party goers. As he watched and planned, he thought of his wicked boy and wondered where he was and what he was doing.

There was a crackle and hiss, blue sparks shooting up into the sky. Angelus watched them lazily, finding the colors lacking in comparison to the blue blue eyes of his William. He recalled sparks of a different nature from the night before, flashing and shining from those pleading eyes as he plowed deep into a sweet arse. Ah, he sighed, there's not a finer sight in t'world than my beloved Childe begging for a bit more cock.

Angelus rose, strolling nude to the bath and sliding into the steaming water. He stroked himself, lathering his large frame and pondering what he and Will would do tonight. Well, he admitted, more of a who than a what. Unlife offered infinite variety, but some things never did change. A quick meal and a quick fuck, but what followed might be anything. Perhaps a concert or a play, Angelus thought. His boy did enjoy a bit of music and poetry.

Bourbon Street was a sea of drunken revelers, most of them out of towners. The locals had been partying for three weeks now, and all but the most hard-core ones had headed to Lake Ponchatrain or Metarie for quieter festivities, leaving the sunken streets of the Big Easy to the tourists from Ohio.

Spike strolled along in his faded denims, Doc Martins scraping the paper littered streets. The banquets were shoulder to shoulder with Shriners, college students and amply endowed young girls who were more than willing to pull up their shirts, and as they kept downing Hurricanes from the tall plastic glasses outside Pat O’Brian’s, the girls only got friendlier. Spike flirted and groped his way through the crowd, occasionally dipping down for a taste of a likely looking specimen, and soon he was feeling no pain from the candy-colored and flavored alcohol.

Soon Spike was liberally draped with multi-colored purple, gold and green beads, and had a plastic bowler hat perched cock-eyed on his head. His white blonde hair had been tousled by the girls who'd put it there, and hung over one eye. He was having a bit of trouble walking straight as he wandered back through the side streets of the Quarter, toward the 18th century townhouse where he and Angelus were staying. He sniggered to himself as he stumbled in past the wrought iron gate and through the little courtyard, pausing to try and coax a curious cat toward him. "Here pusss... c'mere puss puss puss... here pussy-pussy. Heh heh. A bit a' pussy for th' auld man."

Angelus stepped from the tub, reaching for a thick towel and wrapping it around himself. He cocked an ear, hearing Will's voice. He smirked, and moved into the bedroom. So, the lad had started without him. Should be a bit o'fun, than, teaching him to respect his elders. Angelus paused, remembering all the other times he'd pushed that lesson into his boy's sweet body. He wandered into the kitchen, searching for and finding exactly what he wanted. Long, flat, and made of high-grade steel, the spatula was the perfect paddle for his boy's calloused arse.

He called out, voice light and sweet, "Will me boy! Good to hear yer voice. Want to give me hand in here? I seem to have lost something. There's a good lad."

"Bloody hell, y' little bastard! Fine then!" Spike yelped when the cat scratched him and leapt away. He threw an ill-aimed rock after the little beast, and then paused, hearing his Sire's voice cutting through the crisp winter air. Hastily, he tossed the hat into the bush and shoved the beads in his pocket, then ran his hands through his hair to give it some semblance of order. Taking a deep breath, he splashed water from the fountain on his face and then strode into the warmth of the house, doing his best to look fresh-faced and chipper.

"So what're you lookin' for then? Better hurry up if we're going to get any action. They'll close down the streets at 3 o'clock you know," Spike said, coming into the kitchen.

Angelus whirled gracefully, and his hand came to rest around Spike's throat. He grinned, good humor and genial, as his thumb massaged cool skin.

"I seem to have misplaced my temper, sweetling. Care to tell me if you've seen it?" Angelus asked.

He inhaled deeply and the smile fled, replaced with a direful frown. The boy smelt of cheap perfume and even cheaper booze. The temper Angelus claimed to have misplaced flared to life at this evidence of revelry.

"So, ye've been out and about. Without a word to me, and without a thought, " Angelus murmured. "Did ye enjoy yerself, lad? I certainly hope so, for ye'll be paying for yer pleasures now."

As soon as his sire turned his broad shouldered frame and reached out his long arm, Spike knew the game was up. He turned to run but Angelus truly had the speed of a demon and Spike's rum-soaked reflexes were off. He could only squawk when the big hand closed itself around his throat.

When he saw the deceptively warm and open smile on Angelus' face, Spike felt a pang of anxiety in his gut. He tried the charming approach first, batting his blue eyes and giving Angelus his most winsome smile. "Dunno what yer talkin' about mate- nothing to get yer knickers in a twist about! It's Mardi Gras! Th' whole town's out there getting their last dose of sin- you ought to be into this sort a' thing, yer th' catholic--"

"Ssh," Angelus instructed softly. "I'll not be hearing any of yer excuses now. Ye know better, great big boy that ye are. Ye know better and ye did it anyways. That's cause enough for punishment." Angelus forehead crinkled and a look of concern replaced the frown. "But, ye'll be paying for my worry, lad. I'll not lose you and ye take far too many chances with yer life. Now, upstairs with ye. Strip and lay down on the bed. I'll be up in a moment."

Angelus raised an eyebrow and added, as an afterthought, "Don't think of runnin', Will. If I have to chase ye, I'll only be more annoyed."

Spike's jaw dropped and his blue eyes flashed with shock and indignant surprise. "Worry?! You've got no reason to worry about me!"

The blonde continued, brows knit and high-planed cheeks flushed. His sense of diplomacy had gone out the window upon hearing that Angelus apparently thought he needed a sodding nursemaid.

"I was only having a bit a' fun! Like every other person in the sodding city! I'm not a flipping baby, Angelus!"

Angelus tutted, shaking his head at this foolishness. "Ah, but ye are, Will. Yer my baby, aren't ye? Ye stand here, drunker than a priest after Mass and tell me ye take no chances. Upstairs now, lad. 'Tis obviously been too long since yer Daddy took you in hand. No more arguments, boyo. MOVE!"

Spike huffed, too drunk to weigh his options clearly. Despite his frustration and indignation, his treacherous cock stiffened at the words 'daddy took you in hand', and so he stormed past the tall, muscular frame of his tutting Sire and stormed for the narrow staircase. He got what satisfaction he could from stomping up the stairs as loudly as he could. Kicking open the paneled door to the Master bedroom, he stalked to the big four-poster bed and sat down hard, fumbling with his bootlaces. After yanking off the first boot, he hurled it at the open door, followed quickly by its mate.

Angelus laughed, long and loud at the sounds coming from upstairs. His boy, big and stroppy, throwing a tantrum over a bit of a spanking. He fisted his cock loosely, enjoying the sounds and imagining the lovely scowl on Will's face. He sauntered towards the stairs, moving slowly so as to give Spike enough time to wind down. He knew from experience just how long it took the boy's temper to flare and die.

Once he'd divested himself of the boots, Spike quickly stripped off his shirt and jeans, and threw himself face down on the bed. He lay there, feeling the cool air playing gently over his lean, muscular back and firm bottom, and swallowed hard despite himself in anticipation, realizing his bottom wasn't likely to feel cool again for some time. He sulked a bit, his quick-tempered anger giving way to a little self-pity, and then quickly to scheming how to turn the punishment to his advantage if possible.
Angelus strolled into the room, his own temper cooling. The sight of Will, pale body stretched out on the bed, tended to have that affect on him, he acknowledged. He could never stay angry with the boy, even when he knew he should. But, his lad had a way about him, all big eyes and soft lips. That and his sweet submission made it difficult to punish him properly. Still, Angelus resolved that this time it would be different. The boy had to learn, didn't he? Drunk, wandering a town renowned for its hunters and witches. New Orleans was not just any town, but did Spike pay any heed at all? No, he just threw himself into the whirlwind and figured out the cost later. With that thought in his head, Angelus raised the metal spatula and brought it down with a resounding crack onto that luscious arse.

Spike heard Angelus' footsteps on the stairs and swallowed hard, clenching his bare arse reflexively. The waiting was the worst part. Never known for his patience, having to wait for punishment or pleasure was torment to the boy and always had been, since he was a fledgling. On top of that, his cock was hard despite his anxiety and it took all his reserve not to touch himself. If Angelus was in a punitive mood it wouldn't do for him to walk in and see or smell evidence that Spike had been enjoying himself waiting for his impending punishment.

He heard the swift stroke of the implement as it descended and then felt it brought down hard across his arse. Spike yelped and jerked his head, looking over his shoulder with blue eyes wide in shock and pain. "What the- a bloody spatula?!"

Angelus nodded sheepishly. " 'Twas the first thing that came to hand." Remembering himself, he wiped the look of embarrassment from his face. Punishment, he reminded himself. The boy has t'learn.

"So, sweetling," he purred, "did ye enjoy yerself tonight?"

Spike was still boggling at the spatula in Angelus' big hand. "No! I was just getting started- came home t' get you! I didn't know you'd have some sort of bug up yer arse- don't smack me with that thing again!"

Spike rolled toward the edge of the bed in an attempt to avoid the second smack.

Angelus raised the spatula, intending to give the boy a hiding he'd not soon forget. But as soon as he heard the boy say he'd come home for his sire, he lowered the admittedly foolish paddle and sat down heavily on the bed.

"Ah, my sweet boy. I didn't know ye were coming for me," he admitted. "Smelled those girls on you, and I got... 'Twas only my worry, " Angelus insisted, grabbing at the boy and cuddling him close. "Daddy loves ye so, sweetling."

Spike clenched his teeth, anticipating another hard swat, but when Angelus cuddled him, he nuzzled his Sire's throat, looking up with his biggest, most appealing blue eyed gaze and his sweetest, most petulant little boy pout

He tried to keep a smirk from his face when he said, "You were jealous, than?"

Angelus growled ominously. He refused to admit to jealousy. That was a human trait, and a weak one at that. He was better than that.

Spike's blue eyes sparkled and he couldn't resist twisting the knife, "So, then all that bollocks about responsibility and worrying about me, and how it's dangerous... that was all a load of crap then? You were jealous!"

"Not jealous, " Angelus replied, large hand connecting with a very firm bottom. "T'Scourge of Europe doesn't get jealous of a few humans, and ye'd best remember that." A few more heavy swats and he pressed a firm kiss to his boy's head.

"Not jealous," he mumbled, lips seeking out the sweet mouth he craved.

Spike yelped a little at the smacks, but secretly was thankful the despised spatula had been discarded. He kicked out a lean leg and 'accidentally' knocked the instrument from the bed, out of easy reach. Inside he was thrilled to know that even after all these years, he was still his daddy's favorite boy, and he kissed back against the firm mouth eagerly, pressing himself against the big vampire and thrusting his tongue between his lips.

Spike nipped Angelus' lower lip mischievously and murmured in a sing-song voice, "jealous"...

That did it. Angelus tipped the boy off his lap and rolled him onto his back. Covering the lean body with his own, he began to savage that sweet pout. Nipping and sucking demandingly at the boy's tongue, his fingers pressed insistently at the entrance to the tight passage his body craved.

"Let me in, " he demanded. "Daddy wants his boy."

Spike eagerly kissed back, his cock swelling at the attention and Angelus' insistent, rough passion. The blonde was not one for romantic lovemaking and this sort of animalistic, intense passion was what he loved most about his Sire. He thrust against Angelus rough fingers, moaning, "Oh! Daddy, yes! Uhh! Been a naughty boy, daddy!"

Angelus reached out, scrabbling blindly for the slick. A dollop smeared onto his cock, and he thrust forward. He groaned throatily as Spike's body fluttered around him.

"My boy, my wicked wicked boy, " he panted.

Spike gasped when the cool, slicked tip of Angelus' cock breached his firm cheeks and pressed against his loosened hole. He arched his back and spread his lean thighs further, arms outstretched and fingers laced behind Angelus' neck. "Uhh! Oh god! Daddydaddydaddy! Need you daddy! Make me yer good boy daddy please!"

Angelus reached between their bodies, clutching at Spike's shiny wet prick. He began to stroke it roughly, in time with his own harsh thrusts. Leaning over, he fastened his blunt teeth to the boy's neck. Taking a firm bite, he pierced the skin and the taste of Spike's blood pushed him over the edge. He spasmed, shooting bolts of thick cum deep inside the welcoming channel.

"My own, my sweet lovely boy, " he murmured.

Spike gasped when Angelus' big hand grasped his swollen cock. He thrust into Daddy's big fist and pushed back against the thick cock inside him. When Angelus bit his throat he gasped and yelped, crying out, "Please daddy need you, please!!! Yours, yours just yours! Daddy!"

Still hard and aching, Angelus began to move again, gently this time. He relished the feel of his Childe, the scent of his desperation and arousal hanging heavy in the air. He wasn't jealous, but he did enjoy having this bit of Will only for him.

"Yer my boy, my good boy. Daddy missed you tonight, " Angelus purred.

Spike moaned and whined, keening high in his throat as Angelus' cock thrust deeply in and out of him. He felt so full, so wanted and loved, so alive, when Angelus took him like this. It felt right, complete. He yelped at each jolt of pleasure when his sire's cock brushed his prostate, digging his short nails into Angelus' shoulders and gasping. "Uhh! Need you daddy! Always! Never gonna go away! Miss you! Need you! Oh please Daddy!! Please!!"

Angelus licked seductively at the mark on Spike's throat. He loved the boy like this, wanton and needy. Needing his Daddy, Angelus gloated.

"What's the matter, baby boy, " he asked. "Yer so beautiful like this. Could keep ye this way for hours. All hard and aching for me. Love it, sweetling. Love you," he admitted as his hips began to snap faster.

Spike whined and thrust desperately against Daddy's cock- suddenly the prospect of being spanked with the spatula seemed like it would have been an easier punishment! His blue eyes were wide with lust and he whimpered, clinging to Angelus, lean legs wrapped around his Sire's back, moaning. "Uhh! Please please Daddy! I'll be good, I'll be good I'll do anything you say!! Need to cum!"

"Anything, " Angelus hissed, fighting to restrain his own desperately needed orgasm. "So ye'll stay with me as long as we're here, not wander about on yer own? Ye'll not go out looking for doxies, and worry yer Daddy so?"
Spike whimpered and panted, desperately fighting the urge to say anything about 'jealousy' and instead nodding his head frantically. "Uhh! yes, yes, right by yer ohgod side! Won't leave fer a minute! Stick t'you like glue-ooooh!! Daddy!!!”

"That's my precious baby, " Angelus smiled. "Cum with me, lad. Cum for yer Daddy," he urged as he released another heavy load of cum into the boy's backside.

Spike gasped and his eyes went wide as he came, shooting sticky fluid all over his and Daddy's muscular bellies. "OOoh! Daddy! Love you!!"

Angelus collapsed on top of Spike's shuddering body and buried his face in the crook of his boy's neck. He inhaled deeply, the mingled smells of their release and the boy's blood comforting him as few thing could. He placed a string of kisses on the flesh beneath him and then rolled over. Pulling Spike close, he rubbed and stroked the smaller vampire's back.

"I love ye, too, " he admitted. "Perhaps a bit more than I should. 'Tisn't jealousy, though."

Spike clung to his Sire, nuzzling against him and murmuring, rubbing his lips gently against Angelus' throat and purring deeply in his chest. He revelled in the closeness and his daddy's affection, drinking it in. It was more powerful than any liquor, more intoxicating and far more satisfying.

"No... it's love," Spike said, with a naughty smirk.

Angelus gave Spike a half-hearted swat before curling his body around the boy. He had to admit it, that Spike had a point. It was love. Of course, that didn't mean he had to admit it out loud. So he snorted and snuggled close, fingers caressing his sweet baby's soft skin as sleep stole over him.

Spike cuddled close and kissed Angelus' chin, then licked his lower lip. He closed his eyes and curled up, secure in his daddy's strong arms and the knowledge that he was loved.

The End

The Fanged Four

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