10 ****** Spike got for Christmas and immediately returned
Title: 10 ****** Spike got for Christmas and immediately returned (without the slightest hint of force whatsoever…)
Characters: Angel/Spike, Spike/Wesley, Spike/Fred, Spike/Hamilton, Spike/Eve, Spike/Lorne, Spike/Nina, Spike/Lindsey, Spike/Gunn, Spike/Harmony, Spike/puppet!Angel
Rating: PG
Word count: about 1100
Warnings: not a native speaker, no beta
Disclaimer: Not mine. Damn.
„Snip! Snap! Snip! the scissors go; And Conrad cries out - Oh! Oh! Oh! Snip! Snap! Snip! They go so fast; That both his thumbs are off at last.” Angel sing-songs darkly and Spike’s momentarily distracted by the remote possibility that “Mandy” still was above rock bottom. Or that there are levels below, whatever.
“Fine. Yes, he offered,” Spike yells when the tips of the blades stroke along his left pinky finger. “Told me he wanted to do some research on vampire physiology. I swear I turned him down! Come on, peaches. We’re talking stick-up-his-pale-British-arse… not that there’s anything wrong about deliciously milky-white English arses, obviously” - Spike wriggles his ass seductively on the chair he’s bound to - “but Wesley? ‘s just.. gross. I mean… just no. No. Really. No.”
Spike shudders ostentatiously. Angel looks sheepishly away, hiding the hint of a blush and faint memories behind his anger. ‘Gross.’ Exactly.
He hurries to continue the interrogation.
“Fred? Seriously? That would be like raping kittens! I’ve got a soul too, you know.” Spike pouts so hard his tongue frenulum hurts.
Angel cocks an eyebrow but seems to buy it. So, no, Spike doesn’t add “… pretty horny lil’ carnivores” though the things Fred did that night before Christmas in the lab… And later, when Wesley joined them, eager to do some ‘research’ and determined to prove his skills in front of Fred and his rival, going all testosterone and old-school dominance.
“Hamilton?! You’re asking me if I and Hamilton--? Seriously?” Spike laughs hysterically as the blades traveller further west, opening around his tense middle finger. “As if I’d sleep with a suit monkey! Lad’s gotta have standards.”
Angel growls and fumbles at his $ 800 Hugo Boss (albeit a little tight) cashmere waistband. Right. Maybe not the best argument. Besides, that blowjob at the Christmas staff party? A hoover’s nothing compared to… whatever Hamilton is. Fortunately Angel was too busy hiding in his office while his staff celebrated the “feast of love”. Literally.
“Talking about standards… I’m not the one who shagged Eve!” … lately. OK, yeah, so said Christmas staff party got a little out of hand… but Spike just had to find out what it is that made Lindsey fuck her. Disguise, definitely. Angel would get this motive, then again, he’s having a bit too much fun with those scissors so… no, Spike won’t talk about this special “Christmas gift” either.
Opposable thumbs - a vital evolutionary step in the development of fine motor skills such as gripping, writing and… what else? Oh yeah, jerking somebody off. So, when Angel moves the blade to Spike’s thumb he’s perfectly sure that Lorne will forgive him that he forgets to mention their little make-out session underneath the mistletoe. “Mate’s soddin’ green, for fuck’s sake!” After all, there’s still a whole lot of the stuff hanging above the office doors, matching Lorne’s complexion perfectly and inviting them to continue their little Christmassy get-together.
“Wouldn’t shag any bird you already pissed at, would I?” Spike snarls while Angel ties Spike’s right - surprisingly still five-fingered - hand back to the chairback. Brutally yanking his left hand up, the blades cut the skin of the bound vampire’s wrist instead of a single digit and Angel growls menacingly.
“Whoa, beefcake, cool off. ‘s just a metaphor. Didn’t shag our ex, is all I’m saying.” What he doesn’t say is that wolfgirl needed some comfort after Angel ditched her on the 24th of December, the jerk. Being the gentleman that he is, Spike may or may not have offered her a shoulder to cry on, which maybe led to comfort of another kind. But that’s nothing his jealous sire needs to know.
“No! Don’t, fuck, Gelus, please” - Spike yells when one sharp blade breaks the skin of his right ring finger, cutting flesh until the grating sound of metal on bone can be heard - “you know I didn’t screw Texas”… because you practically ripped me off of him, Spike thinks and shudders violently since the part of his anatomy that had briefly linked him to Lindsey really isn’t one Spike wants to have nearly torn off ever again. It’s not exactly one of his favourite Christmas memories of this year. Or, you know, ever.
This time, the razor-sharp blades hardly find their way around Spike’s middle finger before Angel moves on to the next digit. “Yeah, right, Gunn. Not even I am hot enough to seduce Mr. Hyper-Hetero,” Spike tsks. Except, he thinks proudly and smirks a sly little smirk, when he is. After all, it’s not the vampire’s fault, Gunn can’t hold his eggnog.
“You really think that me and that bimbo--? OK, fine, I did Harmony before but why should I shag her when I can be with you?” Angel watches him with an expression on his face that resembles a frozen caramel toffee defrosting in the sun until it’s nothing left but a velvety, golden mousse of sweetness. Huh, Spike thinks, would have saved me a lot of trouble if I had thought of this earlier. It’s not like the big brooding git’s vanity is news. Looks like Spike’s finally found a way to keep his nooners with Harmony alive until after Christmas…
Opposable thumbs again. Number 10. And this time, there’s no way out. “See, peaches, you really can’t blame me for having the hots for you, even when you’re tiny, and made of terrycloth, polyester stuffing and cardboard. Besides, the Christmas version of puppet!you with the beard, the red velvet suit and the big belly-Wot? That wasn’t the backlash of the curse? Bugger. So, no more sex with puppet!you then? Pity.” The scissors close up. “OK! No more sex with your plushy alter ego. Swear to fuck and hope to dust!”
The scissors make a rattling sound when they hit the floor. Spike exhales. “You gonna untie me then?”
Angel smirks, fastening Spike’s right hand besides the already bound one, and playfully bites Spike’s neck, fangs breaking the skin, but careful to stay on the side of fuck yes and more!.
“Mine”, he growls against the junction where Spike’s milky white neck meets his shoulders and thin rivulets of red trickle down the skin before Angel can lap them up.
Spike rolls his eyes. Possessive git. Then again, Christmas’ just too bloody good to waste time on being mad because of jealousy and a little torture among friends.. And then there’s Angel’s hand sneaking down his chest, clearly heading for more festive fun. Spike smiles.
No better gift for Christmas than sex…