Envy
The next deadly sin! (3 of a series of 7!)
Spike/Lindsey this time. And yes, non-con once again. Poor Spike.
Envy (Lindsey)
Neither vampire knew they were being watched. One moment snarling in each other’s faces, the next, halted, their mouths open, eyes seeking lips and hanging there, like they were just enjoying the taste of each other’s breath before closing that final inch and melding. Hands gripping leather, tugging, pulling, urgent.
Angel. Dark, beautiful Angel. Never his, never even wanting to be his, and Spike. The son of a bitch had strung Angel up once and pushed hot pokers through him! How was that forgivable when Lindsey - just following fuckin’ orders - was beyond redemption?
Later, when Lindsey approached Spike with a fake name and a faker smile, the vampire didn’t know how well he was known.
Spike had everything Lindsey had ever wanted, not just Angel; he was the fuckin’ cherry on the sundae. There was more, written between the lines in watcher’s diaries and first-hand accounts. The bastard was loved - had love thrown on him like cheap cologne and didn’t fucking notice it. Love and respect and redemption were all things Lindsey could never obtain. But Lindsey did have one thing; he had the keys to the apartment.
He paused, when he unlocked the door, looking at the second deadbolt, set at eye-level. There had only been one key to that lock, and Lindsey had it, so it wasn’t used. But every time he unlocked the door, he glanced at it and remembered that he could, very easily, lock the vampire in.
Spike was sprawled on the twin bed, limbs hanging off all sides, the sheet twisted and bunched between his legs. He’d been tossing and turning, then, before falling into the quite-literally dead sleep he was in.
Bare shoulders, twisted muscles spread out as he hugged the pillow under his head, and a bare back, colorless like the indifferent streetlight that shone down through the high, narrow window.
Damn. He’d gotten the shittiest apartment he could and still Spike made it something beautiful. Lindsey ached with how much he wanted just to touch that.
He wound the telephone wire around his fist, testing its strength with a tug that cut into the meat of his palm. Then, with a sigh, he went to the telephone and replaced the cord that had been chewed through by rats. Spike had called them ‘unwanted takeaway’ and snapped at him to ‘do something about it’.
Spoiled little rich vamp. Lindsey tugged too hard taking the old cord out of the wall and the heavy old phone fell off its little table, internal bells chiming in complaint.
Spike snorted, one arm flailing. “Wot’s that?”
“Just your landlord, champ. And what are you doing asleep at night, anyway?” Lindsey slammed the phone back on its table with a little more force than necessary, the bells and parts chiming again.
Spike blinked at him, propped up on his elbows now, hair all a mess. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Doyle. Was out defending freedom and puppies already.” He flopped back against the pillows, an arm over his eyes.
Lindsey walked up to the side of the bed. “Were you defending freedom in the strip club or the liquor store?”
Spike squinted up at him in irritation. “Had an early success. Came upon a whole gang of vamps - some bachelor party or something. Fourteen dustings, thank you, and I’m fagged out. Plus I was up during the day because of that vision you had so if you don’t mind…”
“I do mind.” Lindsey went back to the end table and snatched up the ruined telephone cord. It whipped against his thigh from the force of motion.
“Bloody hell, Doyle. What bug’s crawled up your ass?”
“You don’t care.” He turned, gesturing at the window. “People could be in trouble out there but you’re ‘fagged out’ so forget about them. What the hell kind of champion am I suffering for here?”
“Only one you’ve got,” Spike said, eyebrows knit.
Lindsey tightened his fist around coiled wire and sweat. “Maybe the Powers That Be sent me to the wrong guy. Who was that other vampire you were bitchin’ about? What was it - Angel?”
“The hell!” Spike smacked the bed so hard the frame bounced and leapt to his feet, naked and shameless as a jaybird. “That’s bollocks. Mr. CEO wouldn’t know a champion if he was beaten into the ground by one.” Spike tilted his head cockily, “Which he was,” he added, and snatched his jeans off the foot of the bed.
Lindsey should have stopped there, having done his job, gotten Spike the reluctant lazy bastard back out there to win the day. But his jaw ached with clenching. He took a step closer to the agitated vampire. All that power and strength, on edge. He could turn and rip Lindsey’s head from his shoulders with ease. Lindsey could never resist danger “Protest a bit much there, champ. Afraid you don’t stack up to the competition?”
Spike affected the most disbelieving of grimaces as he pulled on his jeans. He slid them up fast and rough, no underwear, just pushed his cock out of the way and zipped up like that wasn’t the most uncomfortable thing to see. “I died, all right? To save the world. I don’t need some pillock with migraines to tell me I’m a champion. Angel can go to hell.” Spike bent to retrieve his t-shirt - black of course - from the floor. “If he isn’t there already,” he muttered as he stretched the black fabric over his head.
“I think you envy him.”
“Ha bloody ha,” Spike tugged down the shirt, settling his shoulders like it was armor. “Envy his brooding? The way he pushes everyone away so even with a fan club and all those lackies he’s still a miserable, lonely old git?”
Lindsey took another step forward, head tilted back. “You think he’s a better man.”
The punch hit Lindsey’s jaw, sending a red haze over his vision as he stumbled backward, not feeling the pain yet. He touched his chin, feeling the heat of the impact. “Answers my question,” he said.
“I don’t have time for this, Doyle. Got kiddies and puppies to save.”
“Yeah. Strike the defenseless human and leave. Real big champion you are.”
“You knew I was a dick when you met me.” Spike turned his back on Lindsey and walked casually to pick his duster off the dinette chair.
“You’re not leaving this apartment.”
Spike whirled, arms out. “You want me to leave, you want me to stay, which is it?”
Would his magically-enhanced strength meet the vampire’s in a full-on fight? Lindsey thought about beating that pretty face, about dominating with strength. He shook his head. “Doesn’t make a difference, does it? You’re not gonna make a difference out there.”
“Watch me.”
Lindsey grabbed his arm as he reached for his coat and he felt the muscles tense, felt Spike pull back to punch, and saw the conflict in his expression. His eyes lingered on the bruise already rising on Lindsey’s jaw.
“What’s the matter, champ? Feeling less than worthy?”
“Let go.”
“Or what, you’ll bash my face in? Nice. Real nice. What would Angel say?”
“You don’t know a thing about Angel.”
Lindsey shrugged. Not letting go his grip on Spike’s arm, he stepped in front of the vampire. “I can guess he’s gotta be bigger than a scrawny guy like you. Maybe he even looks the part - handsome, broad-shouldered?”
“He’s a regular GQ cover vamp. What do you want me to say, Doyle? I’m sorry?”
“Nah,” Lindsey lifted his chin. “Sorry’s a sorry word, my momma used to say.” He looped the telephone wire around Spike’s wrist.
With a wary frown, Spike jerked his arm back, but the loop of wire only tightened, what had been a loose knot squeaking closed against his skin. Lindsey kept hold on the wire. “I think you want him,” he said, relishing in the irony of his own words he let them drip like honey from his lower lip. “I think you want to be him. He has everything you want, without even trying, and it eats you up inside.”
Spike, almost without realizing it, retreated as Lindsey advanced. “Don’t fucking play around like this, Doyle. It’s cutting off my non-existent circulation. Said I’m sorry for lamping you.”
Spike twisted away as Lindsey grabbed for his other arm. For a moment they were engaged in a slap-fight, Lindsey trying to grab on and being thwarted, until Spike backed into the bed.
Lindsey stopped reaching for Spike’s forearm and rushed him, shoulder to sternum, knocking him back onto the mattress.
“Bastard!” Spike punched, but Lindsey was expecting that, with a loop he had the other wrist captured.
He set his knee on the vampire’s stomach and pulled back on the wire, drawing Spike’s wrists together while he struggled, brow ridges rippling under the surface. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Tying up a spoiled vampire,” Lindsey said, grunting a little with the effort of holding his position as Spike bucked under him. “Just like roping cattle.”
“Don’t want to hurt you, Doyle!”
“Yes you do.” He leaned down, letting his knee slide from Spike’s stomach to his crotch, and the vampire stilled, staring at him. Lindsey lowered himself until his lips could feel the downy hairs on Spike’s cheek, just above the surface of the skin. “You’re only fighting because you know I’m right. You don’t deserve a second chance.”
Blue eyes widened, the forehead smoothed. Lindsey knew then he had him. Now all he had to do was say the opposite of the truth. “You’re selfish,” he said, reaching over Spike’s head to loop the wire around the metal head-rail. “You don’t care enough. You haven’t suffered enough.”
Spike’s fists clenched, his arms straining as Lindsey looped the wire a second time over the pipe-like bed frame and back over the combined wrists. He leaned his head back. “What do you want, then, Doyle? Gonna make me suffer? Think you know what’s enough? It’s never enough. Never can be.”
Lindsey finished off his work with a pair of square knots and scooted back to punch the vampire in the stomach. “Had about enough of your ‘poor me’.” Knee-walking just a little further back he grabbed the top of Spike’s jeans and ripped them open.
Spike gasped airlessly, “No!” He twisted and kicked, but Lindsey got the jeans down and left them around mid-calf, holding Spike’s legs together. He sat on the vampire’s thighs as he tried to kick the jeans the rest of the way off so he could use his legs better to fight.
“Let’s see if I got you pegged right,” Lindsey said, calmly rolling up the bottom of Spike’s t-shirt. “I’m gonna guess middle-class. Privileged, boring life. Right? Never had any real problems, loving family. Found yourself a vampire and had to be all cool. It’s been, what? A hundred years? And you’re still trying to act like you’re down with the street scene when you’ve never had to worry about a roof over your head.” Lindsey pushed the t-shirt over a scowling face and nudged it up Spike’s arms to cover the wires that were now limned in blood. He looked down, smiling smugly into rage. “Am I close?”
“It’ll take me a little while to break these wires,” Spike said with affected calm, “because they have some stretch in ‘em. But when they snap, Doyle, you’re not going to want to be here.”
“Heh. Yeah.” Lindsey ran his palm over the ladder of ribs, the sharply defined muscles of Spike’s torso, stretched and twisted for his appreciation. “Then, after all that undeserved grace, you, worthless shit that you are, get to save the world, and die doing it. Who gets that? Absolute vindication? Who deserves that? You?” Lindsey squinted into Spike’s eyes, looking honestly curious. “Did you deserve that grand exit? And to come back from it free of charge?”
Lindsey held off his smile until Spike’s eyelids closed. Jackpot. He was unnecessarily rough, grabbing the vampire’s slender waist and flipping him onto his stomach. Spike cried out and fresh blood trickled out from under the bunched t-shirt to drip down his arms, delineating the curve of his twisted triceps.
The shoulders rose with breath. “No. Just… don’t, Doyle. Not this. Just don’t.”
Lindsey reached around, rubbing his thumb up the side of Spike’s face just to confirm the presence of his tears. He pulled his head back by his hair and looked at them - glittering streaks spilling from the corners of his tightly-closed eyes.
He stroked Spike’s side again. Beautiful. How was it he was somehow so insecure he didn’t know how fucking gorgeous and adored he was?
And that, too, was perfect. Flawless as his ageless skin.
Lindsey pushed Spike’s thighs apart as far as he could with his knees and then pried his way between the smooth globes of his tight ass. He jabbed his thumb hard into the dimple, not wanting to go in dry, he fucked him brutally with fingers until blood slicked the way.
“I don’t want this… I don’t… I’m not…”
“What? Telling me you didn’t rape a few times when you were evil?” Lindsey lined himself up. “You deserve it. Say it.” He pushed in and hissed at the sensation - tighter than he’d expected, clenching, fighting to keep him out. His eyes rolled back and he had to grip Spike’s hips harder just to keep himself up.
He realized he was giving him time to adjust. Mustn’t have that. He thrust hard, badly, off-center a bit. He shifted his stance and started fucking in earnest, lifting slender hips with his hands, slamming in and enjoying the compression of his balls against smooth flesh.
“Say it.” He jabbed hard, his dick a weapon. “Say it.”
“Fucker! I’ll kill you!” Spike jerked his hands hard. The bed-frame shook and the wires bit tighter, flexing almost to the breaking point.
Lindsey ground in, deep, shallow thrusts, he gathered Spike into his arms and lifted him partially off the bed, nuzzled his chin into the soft skin just below Spike’s ear while the vampire tried to pull away from him. “We both know that’s not true. Is it? Why would you kill me, Spike? The one who provides for you? Your link to the powers that be? You may be a joke of a champion, but without me, you aren’t even that. Now say it. Say you deserve this. Getting fucked against your will by someone who, quite frankly, would rather be doing it to someone else.”
This “no,” was weak.
“You’re pathetic. Not even a good fuck. Admit it.” Lindsey bit back a groan, enjoying the pure fucked-up nature of what he was doing. The lie so blatant, the listener so willing to believe it. He felt a monster of an orgasm building, warming from his center as he fucked that perfect tight vampire ass.
He imagined Angel, holding him down like this, and his hand tightened on the back of Spike’s neck, pressing him even harder into the mattress.
“I deserve it,” Spike whispered.
Lindsey bit through his lip, wanting desperately to hold onto that ledge, but he tipped over, falling helplessly, thoroughly into that blinding bliss. He lost vision and thought for a moment and didn’t even feel himself collapse onto the vampire’s back.
He lay a long time, catching his breath against the still form below him. He thought about how he knew how Spike must be feeling at this moment, hating every inch of contact between their skins. Not wanting to move because movement would make him feel. Not wanting to be there at all.
And yet, Lindsey still envied him. Spike was beautiful in his suffering, and one desecration closer to forgiveness while Lindsey was yet another step further away.
Spike/Lindsey this time. And yes, non-con once again. Poor Spike.
Envy (Lindsey)
Neither vampire knew they were being watched. One moment snarling in each other’s faces, the next, halted, their mouths open, eyes seeking lips and hanging there, like they were just enjoying the taste of each other’s breath before closing that final inch and melding. Hands gripping leather, tugging, pulling, urgent.
Angel. Dark, beautiful Angel. Never his, never even wanting to be his, and Spike. The son of a bitch had strung Angel up once and pushed hot pokers through him! How was that forgivable when Lindsey - just following fuckin’ orders - was beyond redemption?
Later, when Lindsey approached Spike with a fake name and a faker smile, the vampire didn’t know how well he was known.
Spike had everything Lindsey had ever wanted, not just Angel; he was the fuckin’ cherry on the sundae. There was more, written between the lines in watcher’s diaries and first-hand accounts. The bastard was loved - had love thrown on him like cheap cologne and didn’t fucking notice it. Love and respect and redemption were all things Lindsey could never obtain. But Lindsey did have one thing; he had the keys to the apartment.
He paused, when he unlocked the door, looking at the second deadbolt, set at eye-level. There had only been one key to that lock, and Lindsey had it, so it wasn’t used. But every time he unlocked the door, he glanced at it and remembered that he could, very easily, lock the vampire in.
Spike was sprawled on the twin bed, limbs hanging off all sides, the sheet twisted and bunched between his legs. He’d been tossing and turning, then, before falling into the quite-literally dead sleep he was in.
Bare shoulders, twisted muscles spread out as he hugged the pillow under his head, and a bare back, colorless like the indifferent streetlight that shone down through the high, narrow window.
Damn. He’d gotten the shittiest apartment he could and still Spike made it something beautiful. Lindsey ached with how much he wanted just to touch that.
He wound the telephone wire around his fist, testing its strength with a tug that cut into the meat of his palm. Then, with a sigh, he went to the telephone and replaced the cord that had been chewed through by rats. Spike had called them ‘unwanted takeaway’ and snapped at him to ‘do something about it’.
Spoiled little rich vamp. Lindsey tugged too hard taking the old cord out of the wall and the heavy old phone fell off its little table, internal bells chiming in complaint.
Spike snorted, one arm flailing. “Wot’s that?”
“Just your landlord, champ. And what are you doing asleep at night, anyway?” Lindsey slammed the phone back on its table with a little more force than necessary, the bells and parts chiming again.
Spike blinked at him, propped up on his elbows now, hair all a mess. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Doyle. Was out defending freedom and puppies already.” He flopped back against the pillows, an arm over his eyes.
Lindsey walked up to the side of the bed. “Were you defending freedom in the strip club or the liquor store?”
Spike squinted up at him in irritation. “Had an early success. Came upon a whole gang of vamps - some bachelor party or something. Fourteen dustings, thank you, and I’m fagged out. Plus I was up during the day because of that vision you had so if you don’t mind…”
“I do mind.” Lindsey went back to the end table and snatched up the ruined telephone cord. It whipped against his thigh from the force of motion.
“Bloody hell, Doyle. What bug’s crawled up your ass?”
“You don’t care.” He turned, gesturing at the window. “People could be in trouble out there but you’re ‘fagged out’ so forget about them. What the hell kind of champion am I suffering for here?”
“Only one you’ve got,” Spike said, eyebrows knit.
Lindsey tightened his fist around coiled wire and sweat. “Maybe the Powers That Be sent me to the wrong guy. Who was that other vampire you were bitchin’ about? What was it - Angel?”
“The hell!” Spike smacked the bed so hard the frame bounced and leapt to his feet, naked and shameless as a jaybird. “That’s bollocks. Mr. CEO wouldn’t know a champion if he was beaten into the ground by one.” Spike tilted his head cockily, “Which he was,” he added, and snatched his jeans off the foot of the bed.
Lindsey should have stopped there, having done his job, gotten Spike the reluctant lazy bastard back out there to win the day. But his jaw ached with clenching. He took a step closer to the agitated vampire. All that power and strength, on edge. He could turn and rip Lindsey’s head from his shoulders with ease. Lindsey could never resist danger “Protest a bit much there, champ. Afraid you don’t stack up to the competition?”
Spike affected the most disbelieving of grimaces as he pulled on his jeans. He slid them up fast and rough, no underwear, just pushed his cock out of the way and zipped up like that wasn’t the most uncomfortable thing to see. “I died, all right? To save the world. I don’t need some pillock with migraines to tell me I’m a champion. Angel can go to hell.” Spike bent to retrieve his t-shirt - black of course - from the floor. “If he isn’t there already,” he muttered as he stretched the black fabric over his head.
“I think you envy him.”
“Ha bloody ha,” Spike tugged down the shirt, settling his shoulders like it was armor. “Envy his brooding? The way he pushes everyone away so even with a fan club and all those lackies he’s still a miserable, lonely old git?”
Lindsey took another step forward, head tilted back. “You think he’s a better man.”
The punch hit Lindsey’s jaw, sending a red haze over his vision as he stumbled backward, not feeling the pain yet. He touched his chin, feeling the heat of the impact. “Answers my question,” he said.
“I don’t have time for this, Doyle. Got kiddies and puppies to save.”
“Yeah. Strike the defenseless human and leave. Real big champion you are.”
“You knew I was a dick when you met me.” Spike turned his back on Lindsey and walked casually to pick his duster off the dinette chair.
“You’re not leaving this apartment.”
Spike whirled, arms out. “You want me to leave, you want me to stay, which is it?”
Would his magically-enhanced strength meet the vampire’s in a full-on fight? Lindsey thought about beating that pretty face, about dominating with strength. He shook his head. “Doesn’t make a difference, does it? You’re not gonna make a difference out there.”
“Watch me.”
Lindsey grabbed his arm as he reached for his coat and he felt the muscles tense, felt Spike pull back to punch, and saw the conflict in his expression. His eyes lingered on the bruise already rising on Lindsey’s jaw.
“What’s the matter, champ? Feeling less than worthy?”
“Let go.”
“Or what, you’ll bash my face in? Nice. Real nice. What would Angel say?”
“You don’t know a thing about Angel.”
Lindsey shrugged. Not letting go his grip on Spike’s arm, he stepped in front of the vampire. “I can guess he’s gotta be bigger than a scrawny guy like you. Maybe he even looks the part - handsome, broad-shouldered?”
“He’s a regular GQ cover vamp. What do you want me to say, Doyle? I’m sorry?”
“Nah,” Lindsey lifted his chin. “Sorry’s a sorry word, my momma used to say.” He looped the telephone wire around Spike’s wrist.
With a wary frown, Spike jerked his arm back, but the loop of wire only tightened, what had been a loose knot squeaking closed against his skin. Lindsey kept hold on the wire. “I think you want him,” he said, relishing in the irony of his own words he let them drip like honey from his lower lip. “I think you want to be him. He has everything you want, without even trying, and it eats you up inside.”
Spike, almost without realizing it, retreated as Lindsey advanced. “Don’t fucking play around like this, Doyle. It’s cutting off my non-existent circulation. Said I’m sorry for lamping you.”
Spike twisted away as Lindsey grabbed for his other arm. For a moment they were engaged in a slap-fight, Lindsey trying to grab on and being thwarted, until Spike backed into the bed.
Lindsey stopped reaching for Spike’s forearm and rushed him, shoulder to sternum, knocking him back onto the mattress.
“Bastard!” Spike punched, but Lindsey was expecting that, with a loop he had the other wrist captured.
He set his knee on the vampire’s stomach and pulled back on the wire, drawing Spike’s wrists together while he struggled, brow ridges rippling under the surface. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Tying up a spoiled vampire,” Lindsey said, grunting a little with the effort of holding his position as Spike bucked under him. “Just like roping cattle.”
“Don’t want to hurt you, Doyle!”
“Yes you do.” He leaned down, letting his knee slide from Spike’s stomach to his crotch, and the vampire stilled, staring at him. Lindsey lowered himself until his lips could feel the downy hairs on Spike’s cheek, just above the surface of the skin. “You’re only fighting because you know I’m right. You don’t deserve a second chance.”
Blue eyes widened, the forehead smoothed. Lindsey knew then he had him. Now all he had to do was say the opposite of the truth. “You’re selfish,” he said, reaching over Spike’s head to loop the wire around the metal head-rail. “You don’t care enough. You haven’t suffered enough.”
Spike’s fists clenched, his arms straining as Lindsey looped the wire a second time over the pipe-like bed frame and back over the combined wrists. He leaned his head back. “What do you want, then, Doyle? Gonna make me suffer? Think you know what’s enough? It’s never enough. Never can be.”
Lindsey finished off his work with a pair of square knots and scooted back to punch the vampire in the stomach. “Had about enough of your ‘poor me’.” Knee-walking just a little further back he grabbed the top of Spike’s jeans and ripped them open.
Spike gasped airlessly, “No!” He twisted and kicked, but Lindsey got the jeans down and left them around mid-calf, holding Spike’s legs together. He sat on the vampire’s thighs as he tried to kick the jeans the rest of the way off so he could use his legs better to fight.
“Let’s see if I got you pegged right,” Lindsey said, calmly rolling up the bottom of Spike’s t-shirt. “I’m gonna guess middle-class. Privileged, boring life. Right? Never had any real problems, loving family. Found yourself a vampire and had to be all cool. It’s been, what? A hundred years? And you’re still trying to act like you’re down with the street scene when you’ve never had to worry about a roof over your head.” Lindsey pushed the t-shirt over a scowling face and nudged it up Spike’s arms to cover the wires that were now limned in blood. He looked down, smiling smugly into rage. “Am I close?”
“It’ll take me a little while to break these wires,” Spike said with affected calm, “because they have some stretch in ‘em. But when they snap, Doyle, you’re not going to want to be here.”
“Heh. Yeah.” Lindsey ran his palm over the ladder of ribs, the sharply defined muscles of Spike’s torso, stretched and twisted for his appreciation. “Then, after all that undeserved grace, you, worthless shit that you are, get to save the world, and die doing it. Who gets that? Absolute vindication? Who deserves that? You?” Lindsey squinted into Spike’s eyes, looking honestly curious. “Did you deserve that grand exit? And to come back from it free of charge?”
Lindsey held off his smile until Spike’s eyelids closed. Jackpot. He was unnecessarily rough, grabbing the vampire’s slender waist and flipping him onto his stomach. Spike cried out and fresh blood trickled out from under the bunched t-shirt to drip down his arms, delineating the curve of his twisted triceps.
The shoulders rose with breath. “No. Just… don’t, Doyle. Not this. Just don’t.”
Lindsey reached around, rubbing his thumb up the side of Spike’s face just to confirm the presence of his tears. He pulled his head back by his hair and looked at them - glittering streaks spilling from the corners of his tightly-closed eyes.
He stroked Spike’s side again. Beautiful. How was it he was somehow so insecure he didn’t know how fucking gorgeous and adored he was?
And that, too, was perfect. Flawless as his ageless skin.
Lindsey pushed Spike’s thighs apart as far as he could with his knees and then pried his way between the smooth globes of his tight ass. He jabbed his thumb hard into the dimple, not wanting to go in dry, he fucked him brutally with fingers until blood slicked the way.
“I don’t want this… I don’t… I’m not…”
“What? Telling me you didn’t rape a few times when you were evil?” Lindsey lined himself up. “You deserve it. Say it.” He pushed in and hissed at the sensation - tighter than he’d expected, clenching, fighting to keep him out. His eyes rolled back and he had to grip Spike’s hips harder just to keep himself up.
He realized he was giving him time to adjust. Mustn’t have that. He thrust hard, badly, off-center a bit. He shifted his stance and started fucking in earnest, lifting slender hips with his hands, slamming in and enjoying the compression of his balls against smooth flesh.
“Say it.” He jabbed hard, his dick a weapon. “Say it.”
“Fucker! I’ll kill you!” Spike jerked his hands hard. The bed-frame shook and the wires bit tighter, flexing almost to the breaking point.
Lindsey ground in, deep, shallow thrusts, he gathered Spike into his arms and lifted him partially off the bed, nuzzled his chin into the soft skin just below Spike’s ear while the vampire tried to pull away from him. “We both know that’s not true. Is it? Why would you kill me, Spike? The one who provides for you? Your link to the powers that be? You may be a joke of a champion, but without me, you aren’t even that. Now say it. Say you deserve this. Getting fucked against your will by someone who, quite frankly, would rather be doing it to someone else.”
This “no,” was weak.
“You’re pathetic. Not even a good fuck. Admit it.” Lindsey bit back a groan, enjoying the pure fucked-up nature of what he was doing. The lie so blatant, the listener so willing to believe it. He felt a monster of an orgasm building, warming from his center as he fucked that perfect tight vampire ass.
He imagined Angel, holding him down like this, and his hand tightened on the back of Spike’s neck, pressing him even harder into the mattress.
“I deserve it,” Spike whispered.
Lindsey bit through his lip, wanting desperately to hold onto that ledge, but he tipped over, falling helplessly, thoroughly into that blinding bliss. He lost vision and thought for a moment and didn’t even feel himself collapse onto the vampire’s back.
He lay a long time, catching his breath against the still form below him. He thought about how he knew how Spike must be feeling at this moment, hating every inch of contact between their skins. Not wanting to move because movement would make him feel. Not wanting to be there at all.
And yet, Lindsey still envied him. Spike was beautiful in his suffering, and one desecration closer to forgiveness while Lindsey was yet another step further away.