China (Angel/Spike, NC-17)
AUTHOR: Salustra
E-MAIL: Salustra: goddess_salustra@juno.com
TITLE: China
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Angelus/Spike
CONTENT: m/m sex
SUMMARY: In China, Spike decides not to let his Sire just walk away.
SPOILERS: Through Ats 2nd season 'Darla'.
DISCLAIMER: Playing wit the boys, but we’re just having fun. No money made, don’t sue us! (or, in more formal language-
Copyright Disclaimer I do not own any characters, products or services depicted in this story which you recognize. Original characters/characterization and plot are mine. Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel The Series characters are OOC and I cite section 107 of the US copyright clause on 'fair use' to be found HERE
Principally this is a transformative work, for enjoyment only, has a selective audience and I make no profit. )
DISTRIBUTION: Various lists, Ao3, My livejournal - http://salustra.livejournal.com/ ; and the website Weird Romances- http://www.freewebs.com/salustra/wr/index.html . No posting elsewhere without express permission please.
FEEDBACK: Yes please.
Length: 2,275 words.
~~ China, 1900 ~~
Spike stirs sleepily in the soft featherbed. He looks over, heavy-lidded, at a sleeping Dru. This is a nice house that Darla had found, and the occupants had been delicious. Darla had kept the best sweetmeat for herself and Angelus, of course…a tiny sleeping babe. But such was the prerogative of an elder.
He couldn’t complain. He had dined on Slayer just the night before, and he still feels the rush of power in his veins today. Both he and Dru had been drunk on the powerful aphrodisiac and he had worn Dru out with his lovemaking.
Lovemaking…mmmm. Surely Angelus had likewise put Darla into a heavy slumber by now. It was good to have him back. He still doesn’t know why Angelus had left for two years but he is back and that is all that matters. He gets up and prowls the house, reaching out his senses searching for Angelus.
After walking the house he has scented his presence faintly in a few rooms but Angelus is nowhere to be found. He does, however, encounter Darla.
“Ah, the little Slayer of Slayers,” Darla coos, moving over to rub her corseted chest against his. “Dru all happy and sated? I could use your services in my bedroom.”
Spike tries not to shrink from Darla. He does not like her, but he owes her obedience all the same. She has made all-too-frequent use of him while Angelus has been gone. He attempts to distract her. “Where is Angelus? I would have thought he would have been taking care of you tonight.”
Darla pouts prettily. “Angelus is gone again. For good this time. Don’t think about him. With luck we will never see him again.”
Spike’s eyes flash angrily. “What did you do to him to drive him away?”
Darla slaps Spike. “How dare you question me?”
Spike summons up his new-found strength, still heavily fortified with Slayer’s blood, and throws Darla across the room. He stalks off to his sleeping place, gathering what few belongings he prized into a portmanteau and filling his pockets with money and jewels they have taken from their hapless victims, and charges out the door before Darla could recover enough to stop him. He moves down to the docks, drawn by instinct, and prowls back and forth until he feels Angelus’ presence in a ship.
It’s a grimy-looking ship, and its crew are quite evidently men up to no good. Smugglers, most likely. Well, with all the people wanting to leave China in a hurry, there’d be good profits to be had in smuggling people no reputable shipping line would touch. Spike moves up to the gangplank and a greasy, gap-toothed specimen looks down at him. He hawks up something unpleasant looking and manages to spit it just in front of Spike’s boot. “Wotcher needin’?” He bellows.
“Lookin’ for a friend,” Spike says. “If he’s on your ship, I’ll be wantin’ passage for myself as well.”
The sailor looks a little more interested. “Step on board, then. No need t’be announcin’ yer business to all and sundry.”
Spike smiles a sly smile and works his way up the gangplank. He slides his hand inside his coat pocket and fingers the handle of a lovely knife he’d taken off someone a few days ago. He waits for the move that he is sure will come. And indeed, the sailor doesn’t disappoint. He moves, a sap in his hand, no doubt to knock Spike out, even as two other sailors move from the shadows. But Spike is ready for them, and moves with blinding speed to pull the first sailor in front of him, arm bent behind his back, and a knife to his throat.
“No need t’be hasty, boys. We can still do business if you’re willin’ t’be reasonable gents,” Spike says.
“Cor, quick as the other ‘un,” One of the other sailors says.
“The other one?” Spike asks. He then describes Angelus. “Is that him?”
The sailors both nod. Spike smiles a triumphant little grin. “That’s who m’lookin’ for. You blokes willin’ t’be reasonable, or do I have t’kill a few of you first?”
The sailors nod. “Reasonable. Didn’t mean no ‘arm, Sir,” one of them says.
Spike moves the knife off the one sailor’s throat, but keeps his arm tight behind him. He reaches into a pocket and tosses out a diamond necklace. “That enough for passage and silence?”
The sailors’ eyes bug out, but they don’t move. A rapier flashes out of the darkness and snags the necklace. The rapier’s wielder comes into view. A rakish-looking gentleman, dressed in fine clothes. “It will suffice,” he replies in a deep voice. “I suppose old Uriah and his companions tried to divest you of your wealth? Really, gentlemen, I would have thought the lashes you received last time would have taught you otherwise. Mr.Fitzhugh, could you and your men escort these three off my ship? I’m certain the natives will spare me the trouble of having to run them through.”
A burly but clean-shaven man steps from the shadows, flanked by several other formidable-looking men, and they physically manhandle the three would-be robbers off the ship. The rakish gentleman extends a hand. “Let me introduce myself. Captain Gideon Butcher, at your service…” His voice trails off, waiting for Spike to return the introduction.
“Spike.” Spike shakes the Captain’s hand briefly.
“Ah. A man of few words. Like your friend. I’ll escort you to your cabin. Make the point to the bilge rats that you’re not to be molested.”
“You can take me to his cabin, if you please. I’ll need no other accommodations.”
The Captain raises an eyebrow at this but says nothing. “As you wish. Follow me, please.”
A few minutes later they are knocking at the cabin door. “Go away,” comes Angelus’ thickly-accented voice. “Told you, wanted no disturbances.”
Spike waves the Captain away. The Captain quirks an odd smile and moves on down the corridor. Spike opens the door, and ducks the knife that Angelus hurls towards the door. He shuts the door behind him. “Not glad t’see me, then, Sire?” He asks.
“Spike, what the feck are ye doin’ here?” Angelus asks. He does not sound happy.
A momentary flash of hurt flickers across Spike’s features. “Came t’join you,” he says. “This little trip t’China’s been the only decent time we’ve had in two years. Darla is set t’drag us back t’the Master, and I don’t want his clammy paws all over me again.”
Despite himself, Angelus is roused by that remark. “The Master touched you, m’boy?” He roars.
Spike nods. “ He did. Wanted me t’sleep with him, too, until I told him I’d rather be staked. Darla damn near skinned me with a bullwhip after that one.”
Angelus glowers. Then he seems to shake himself, to shrink before Spike’s eyes. He turns away. “Can’t stay with me, boy.”
Spike moves closer. His voice hovers between hurt and anger. “You don’t want me?” He asks.
Despite himself, Angelus looks back. “S’not that,” he growls gruffly. “Just can’t keep you.”
Spike considers for just a fraction of a moment. He can’t go back. Darla will flay him alive after what he did. And as much as he wants family, he won’t submit himself to her will again. It’s either Angelus or alone. So he drops his tough-guy veneer that he knows irritates Angelus so much and lets his face settle into a sweeter, more submissive mold. He pulls the ribbon out that holds his hair in a ponytail, and lets his hair flow down around his shoulders.
Angelus can’t help but watch. His boy is so beautiful. He’s missed him. His fingers itch to touch that skin, that hair. It’s been two years. His face betrays none of the turmoil he feels inside.
Spike slips off the jacket he wears, then starts unbuttoning the shirt, revealing milky skin. "Please. Can't go back to Darla, she'll kill me. Let me stay." His voice is soft, the cocky fake accent dropped.
Angelus shudders. "Fine. Stay. Can't seem to stop you at any rate." His hand lifts and fingers stroke across Spike's chest. "Come here, William my boy."
William moves in closer. Angelus pulls Spike down onto his lap. "My boy," he said with a rumble. "Whatever shall I do with you? I want to keep you but..."
"But what?" Spike asks, voice still soft.
Angelus sighs. "The reason I'm gone is Darla drove me away. I'm cursed, lad, cursed with a fecking soul. I can't rid myself of it and I can't shake it. I can still kill, but then the torments of hell descend upon me. I only killed villains here, so I could feed. Darla wanted me to kill the babe and I couldn't. So you see why I can't keep you."
Spike thinks, his head tilted. "No, I don't. Rather have you with a soul and all than Darla without. You're my Sire. If you'd gone without me..." He doesn't finish the thought. If he had to look forward to servicing Darla and being dragged to the Master again and again, he thinks he might have walked into the sunrise.
"Ohhh, my boy." Angelus follows the thought without it being spoken. He strokes his back and up into his hair. "I'll keep you. We'll work it out. Darla likes Dru well enough, she can care for her."
Spike purrs and leans into Angelus' touch. "I'll be good. Well, as good as I can be."
Angelus chuckles. "I know there's only so much goodness I can expect, my boy. As for now, you can be very good indeed." He grips tighter in his hair and pulls him closer to kiss him.
Spike moans at the grip and melts into the kiss. Yes, he and Angelus often fight when the mood is on them but more often it is like now, like this. Spike adores Dru but he had to make a choice, and he's chosen Angelus. There is a raw passion between them like nothing else in his life or unlife.
Angelus pushes Spike back and kisses him again as he presses him under his body. Spike groans and begins to undo Angelus' trousers, reaching inside to stroke along his hardening shaft, barely covered by cotton underpants. Angelus rolls them both til Angelus is on his back. "Mmmm, my boy, I think I want you to use that amazing mouth of yours for a start."
Spike grins and nods, eyes shining. "I like using my mouth on you, Sire."
"I know you do, boy. I know you do."
Spike pushes his Sire's trousers down some more and then the underpants. Angelus' rather large cock springs into view. Spike's long fingers curl around it as he slides down to lick along the underside. His long tongue traces little paths of wickedness along the velvety skin. Angelus groans in response. "Mmmm, yes, more of that, my William."
Spike purrs and begins to lick carefully around the head as he peels back the foreskin. Spike takes his time and curls and swirls his tongue as he takes the shaft into his mouth. His hand is firm around the base of Angelus' cock but he takes in as much as he can easily manage between his lips. Angelus moans and fists a hand in Spike's hair. Spike just purrs and pushes down more, taking Angelus in to the root, swallowing around the head as it hits the back of his throat. Angelus had taught him to love this, to crave doing it, and two years had not dimmed his proficiency.
Angelus pants and groans, thrusting his hips shallowly. "Feck, boy, so damn wicked with that mouth of yours." Moments like this remind Angelus of why he'd made the boy, why he'd chosen him out of so many to be his favored. Darla is a sweet piece, no denying that, but it is Spike who can tempt him almost to distraction just with a look or a touch.
Spike purrs louder and relaxes his throat to ease the face-fucking Angelus is now giving him. His tongue continues its wicked dance along and around Angelus' shaft, drawing groans and muttered curses from his Sire. He looks up with his oh-so-blue eyes at Angelus, both letting him see the pleasure he takes in this and feigning an innocence he no longer possesses. The look gets another muttered curse, and Angelus picks up the pace of his thrusting.
Damn the boy anyway, he didn't miss a trick. The eyes get him every time. He remembers seeing those eyes framed behind glasses, when the boy hid his deliciousness away in ridiculous, ill-fitting clothes. He'd known then he wanted the boy, and did everything in his power to get him and keep him. Angelus only lasts a few more thrusts before he spends himself into that amazing mouth.
Spike swallows it down as if it is the tastiest treat. He loves it, the ability to send his Sire off the edge with just a look. He just revels in the little touch of power from on his knees. He flows up onto Angelus' lap and kisses him.
Angelus holds Spike close. He sighs. "How I ever imagined I'd do without you, I don't know. You can make me forget the torments of hell." Angelus strokes his hands over Spike's porcelain-fine skin, taking in the delicateness of him, and the contrast of the tight muscles under the pale skin. Spike is most definitely male, despite his startling beauty, and capable of dominating almost anyone else except Angelus. That he submits himself is the sweetest part of all.
Spike is still purring. "I live to serve you, Sire." True enough, he could rebel and push back and he and Angelus had fought often enough, but down deep he prefers it when they are like this. Angelus is primal, male, brutally handsome and brutal and gentle by turns. He served Darla because he had to, Angelus he serves because he wants to.
Angelus chuckles. "You do, do you, boy? Well onto your belly, as I've need of your services some more." As Spike slides onto his belly on the little bed, Angelus reaches into his bag for some oil. He'd gotten it to ease his solitary pleasures but this is a much better use for it. He pours some onto his hand and begins working oiled fingers into Spike.
Spike moans and rocks up his ass to the intruding fingers. "Mmmm god yessss please Sire." He's been more than two years without the feel of Angelus inside him and he is greedy for it now.
Angelus spreads some of the oil onto his own cock and moves so that he can press into Spike's tight little ass. He gives a groan as he feels himself buried in that silken passage. There's nothing like the sweetness of it, nothing in the world. He begins to lose himself in the sensations as he moves inside Spike.
Spike pushes back against Angelus and also works to clench and unclench himself along Angelus' length. The pleasure and just the slightest spice of pain run through him as Angelus' large cock stretches him open again and again. It is in moments like this that he knows he is made for Angelus, that the two of them belong together.
Angelus' thrusts get rougher, the pace harder as he gets more and more excited. Spike moans and pulls his knees up under himself. The two of them are moving together, fluidly, every flex of taut muscles in sheer perfection.
Angelus can feel all of his troubled thoughts slipping away. He can feel the veil of pain he's been living in for two years lifting. Who would have thought all he needed to relieve his pain was to fuck his boy again? As he climaxes, he can feel a wrenching jolt inside, and he shouts and passes into unconsciousness.
Spike feels Angelus slump onto him and he is confused. Slowly he manages to extricate himself from under Angelus without dumping his Sire on the floor. A few minutes later Angelus awakens, and then he laughs. "You've done it boy, the soul is gone. I don't know what happened but I'm free." He pulls Spike close and kisses him firmly. "Your Sire is back!"
E-MAIL: Salustra: goddess_salustra@juno.com
TITLE: China
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: Angelus/Spike
CONTENT: m/m sex
SUMMARY: In China, Spike decides not to let his Sire just walk away.
SPOILERS: Through Ats 2nd season 'Darla'.
DISCLAIMER: Playing wit the boys, but we’re just having fun. No money made, don’t sue us! (or, in more formal language-
Copyright Disclaimer I do not own any characters, products or services depicted in this story which you recognize. Original characters/characterization and plot are mine. Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Angel The Series characters are OOC and I cite section 107 of the US copyright clause on 'fair use' to be found HERE
Principally this is a transformative work, for enjoyment only, has a selective audience and I make no profit. )
DISTRIBUTION: Various lists, Ao3, My livejournal - http://salustra.livejournal.com/ ; and the website Weird Romances- http://www.freewebs.com/salustra/wr/index.html . No posting elsewhere without express permission please.
FEEDBACK: Yes please.
Length: 2,275 words.
~~ China, 1900 ~~
Spike stirs sleepily in the soft featherbed. He looks over, heavy-lidded, at a sleeping Dru. This is a nice house that Darla had found, and the occupants had been delicious. Darla had kept the best sweetmeat for herself and Angelus, of course…a tiny sleeping babe. But such was the prerogative of an elder.
He couldn’t complain. He had dined on Slayer just the night before, and he still feels the rush of power in his veins today. Both he and Dru had been drunk on the powerful aphrodisiac and he had worn Dru out with his lovemaking.
Lovemaking…mmmm. Surely Angelus had likewise put Darla into a heavy slumber by now. It was good to have him back. He still doesn’t know why Angelus had left for two years but he is back and that is all that matters. He gets up and prowls the house, reaching out his senses searching for Angelus.
After walking the house he has scented his presence faintly in a few rooms but Angelus is nowhere to be found. He does, however, encounter Darla.
“Ah, the little Slayer of Slayers,” Darla coos, moving over to rub her corseted chest against his. “Dru all happy and sated? I could use your services in my bedroom.”
Spike tries not to shrink from Darla. He does not like her, but he owes her obedience all the same. She has made all-too-frequent use of him while Angelus has been gone. He attempts to distract her. “Where is Angelus? I would have thought he would have been taking care of you tonight.”
Darla pouts prettily. “Angelus is gone again. For good this time. Don’t think about him. With luck we will never see him again.”
Spike’s eyes flash angrily. “What did you do to him to drive him away?”
Darla slaps Spike. “How dare you question me?”
Spike summons up his new-found strength, still heavily fortified with Slayer’s blood, and throws Darla across the room. He stalks off to his sleeping place, gathering what few belongings he prized into a portmanteau and filling his pockets with money and jewels they have taken from their hapless victims, and charges out the door before Darla could recover enough to stop him. He moves down to the docks, drawn by instinct, and prowls back and forth until he feels Angelus’ presence in a ship.
It’s a grimy-looking ship, and its crew are quite evidently men up to no good. Smugglers, most likely. Well, with all the people wanting to leave China in a hurry, there’d be good profits to be had in smuggling people no reputable shipping line would touch. Spike moves up to the gangplank and a greasy, gap-toothed specimen looks down at him. He hawks up something unpleasant looking and manages to spit it just in front of Spike’s boot. “Wotcher needin’?” He bellows.
“Lookin’ for a friend,” Spike says. “If he’s on your ship, I’ll be wantin’ passage for myself as well.”
The sailor looks a little more interested. “Step on board, then. No need t’be announcin’ yer business to all and sundry.”
Spike smiles a sly smile and works his way up the gangplank. He slides his hand inside his coat pocket and fingers the handle of a lovely knife he’d taken off someone a few days ago. He waits for the move that he is sure will come. And indeed, the sailor doesn’t disappoint. He moves, a sap in his hand, no doubt to knock Spike out, even as two other sailors move from the shadows. But Spike is ready for them, and moves with blinding speed to pull the first sailor in front of him, arm bent behind his back, and a knife to his throat.
“No need t’be hasty, boys. We can still do business if you’re willin’ t’be reasonable gents,” Spike says.
“Cor, quick as the other ‘un,” One of the other sailors says.
“The other one?” Spike asks. He then describes Angelus. “Is that him?”
The sailors both nod. Spike smiles a triumphant little grin. “That’s who m’lookin’ for. You blokes willin’ t’be reasonable, or do I have t’kill a few of you first?”
The sailors nod. “Reasonable. Didn’t mean no ‘arm, Sir,” one of them says.
Spike moves the knife off the one sailor’s throat, but keeps his arm tight behind him. He reaches into a pocket and tosses out a diamond necklace. “That enough for passage and silence?”
The sailors’ eyes bug out, but they don’t move. A rapier flashes out of the darkness and snags the necklace. The rapier’s wielder comes into view. A rakish-looking gentleman, dressed in fine clothes. “It will suffice,” he replies in a deep voice. “I suppose old Uriah and his companions tried to divest you of your wealth? Really, gentlemen, I would have thought the lashes you received last time would have taught you otherwise. Mr.Fitzhugh, could you and your men escort these three off my ship? I’m certain the natives will spare me the trouble of having to run them through.”
A burly but clean-shaven man steps from the shadows, flanked by several other formidable-looking men, and they physically manhandle the three would-be robbers off the ship. The rakish gentleman extends a hand. “Let me introduce myself. Captain Gideon Butcher, at your service…” His voice trails off, waiting for Spike to return the introduction.
“Spike.” Spike shakes the Captain’s hand briefly.
“Ah. A man of few words. Like your friend. I’ll escort you to your cabin. Make the point to the bilge rats that you’re not to be molested.”
“You can take me to his cabin, if you please. I’ll need no other accommodations.”
The Captain raises an eyebrow at this but says nothing. “As you wish. Follow me, please.”
A few minutes later they are knocking at the cabin door. “Go away,” comes Angelus’ thickly-accented voice. “Told you, wanted no disturbances.”
Spike waves the Captain away. The Captain quirks an odd smile and moves on down the corridor. Spike opens the door, and ducks the knife that Angelus hurls towards the door. He shuts the door behind him. “Not glad t’see me, then, Sire?” He asks.
“Spike, what the feck are ye doin’ here?” Angelus asks. He does not sound happy.
A momentary flash of hurt flickers across Spike’s features. “Came t’join you,” he says. “This little trip t’China’s been the only decent time we’ve had in two years. Darla is set t’drag us back t’the Master, and I don’t want his clammy paws all over me again.”
Despite himself, Angelus is roused by that remark. “The Master touched you, m’boy?” He roars.
Spike nods. “ He did. Wanted me t’sleep with him, too, until I told him I’d rather be staked. Darla damn near skinned me with a bullwhip after that one.”
Angelus glowers. Then he seems to shake himself, to shrink before Spike’s eyes. He turns away. “Can’t stay with me, boy.”
Spike moves closer. His voice hovers between hurt and anger. “You don’t want me?” He asks.
Despite himself, Angelus looks back. “S’not that,” he growls gruffly. “Just can’t keep you.”
Spike considers for just a fraction of a moment. He can’t go back. Darla will flay him alive after what he did. And as much as he wants family, he won’t submit himself to her will again. It’s either Angelus or alone. So he drops his tough-guy veneer that he knows irritates Angelus so much and lets his face settle into a sweeter, more submissive mold. He pulls the ribbon out that holds his hair in a ponytail, and lets his hair flow down around his shoulders.
Angelus can’t help but watch. His boy is so beautiful. He’s missed him. His fingers itch to touch that skin, that hair. It’s been two years. His face betrays none of the turmoil he feels inside.
Spike slips off the jacket he wears, then starts unbuttoning the shirt, revealing milky skin. "Please. Can't go back to Darla, she'll kill me. Let me stay." His voice is soft, the cocky fake accent dropped.
Angelus shudders. "Fine. Stay. Can't seem to stop you at any rate." His hand lifts and fingers stroke across Spike's chest. "Come here, William my boy."
William moves in closer. Angelus pulls Spike down onto his lap. "My boy," he said with a rumble. "Whatever shall I do with you? I want to keep you but..."
"But what?" Spike asks, voice still soft.
Angelus sighs. "The reason I'm gone is Darla drove me away. I'm cursed, lad, cursed with a fecking soul. I can't rid myself of it and I can't shake it. I can still kill, but then the torments of hell descend upon me. I only killed villains here, so I could feed. Darla wanted me to kill the babe and I couldn't. So you see why I can't keep you."
Spike thinks, his head tilted. "No, I don't. Rather have you with a soul and all than Darla without. You're my Sire. If you'd gone without me..." He doesn't finish the thought. If he had to look forward to servicing Darla and being dragged to the Master again and again, he thinks he might have walked into the sunrise.
"Ohhh, my boy." Angelus follows the thought without it being spoken. He strokes his back and up into his hair. "I'll keep you. We'll work it out. Darla likes Dru well enough, she can care for her."
Spike purrs and leans into Angelus' touch. "I'll be good. Well, as good as I can be."
Angelus chuckles. "I know there's only so much goodness I can expect, my boy. As for now, you can be very good indeed." He grips tighter in his hair and pulls him closer to kiss him.
Spike moans at the grip and melts into the kiss. Yes, he and Angelus often fight when the mood is on them but more often it is like now, like this. Spike adores Dru but he had to make a choice, and he's chosen Angelus. There is a raw passion between them like nothing else in his life or unlife.
Angelus pushes Spike back and kisses him again as he presses him under his body. Spike groans and begins to undo Angelus' trousers, reaching inside to stroke along his hardening shaft, barely covered by cotton underpants. Angelus rolls them both til Angelus is on his back. "Mmmm, my boy, I think I want you to use that amazing mouth of yours for a start."
Spike grins and nods, eyes shining. "I like using my mouth on you, Sire."
"I know you do, boy. I know you do."
Spike pushes his Sire's trousers down some more and then the underpants. Angelus' rather large cock springs into view. Spike's long fingers curl around it as he slides down to lick along the underside. His long tongue traces little paths of wickedness along the velvety skin. Angelus groans in response. "Mmmm, yes, more of that, my William."
Spike purrs and begins to lick carefully around the head as he peels back the foreskin. Spike takes his time and curls and swirls his tongue as he takes the shaft into his mouth. His hand is firm around the base of Angelus' cock but he takes in as much as he can easily manage between his lips. Angelus moans and fists a hand in Spike's hair. Spike just purrs and pushes down more, taking Angelus in to the root, swallowing around the head as it hits the back of his throat. Angelus had taught him to love this, to crave doing it, and two years had not dimmed his proficiency.
Angelus pants and groans, thrusting his hips shallowly. "Feck, boy, so damn wicked with that mouth of yours." Moments like this remind Angelus of why he'd made the boy, why he'd chosen him out of so many to be his favored. Darla is a sweet piece, no denying that, but it is Spike who can tempt him almost to distraction just with a look or a touch.
Spike purrs louder and relaxes his throat to ease the face-fucking Angelus is now giving him. His tongue continues its wicked dance along and around Angelus' shaft, drawing groans and muttered curses from his Sire. He looks up with his oh-so-blue eyes at Angelus, both letting him see the pleasure he takes in this and feigning an innocence he no longer possesses. The look gets another muttered curse, and Angelus picks up the pace of his thrusting.
Damn the boy anyway, he didn't miss a trick. The eyes get him every time. He remembers seeing those eyes framed behind glasses, when the boy hid his deliciousness away in ridiculous, ill-fitting clothes. He'd known then he wanted the boy, and did everything in his power to get him and keep him. Angelus only lasts a few more thrusts before he spends himself into that amazing mouth.
Spike swallows it down as if it is the tastiest treat. He loves it, the ability to send his Sire off the edge with just a look. He just revels in the little touch of power from on his knees. He flows up onto Angelus' lap and kisses him.
Angelus holds Spike close. He sighs. "How I ever imagined I'd do without you, I don't know. You can make me forget the torments of hell." Angelus strokes his hands over Spike's porcelain-fine skin, taking in the delicateness of him, and the contrast of the tight muscles under the pale skin. Spike is most definitely male, despite his startling beauty, and capable of dominating almost anyone else except Angelus. That he submits himself is the sweetest part of all.
Spike is still purring. "I live to serve you, Sire." True enough, he could rebel and push back and he and Angelus had fought often enough, but down deep he prefers it when they are like this. Angelus is primal, male, brutally handsome and brutal and gentle by turns. He served Darla because he had to, Angelus he serves because he wants to.
Angelus chuckles. "You do, do you, boy? Well onto your belly, as I've need of your services some more." As Spike slides onto his belly on the little bed, Angelus reaches into his bag for some oil. He'd gotten it to ease his solitary pleasures but this is a much better use for it. He pours some onto his hand and begins working oiled fingers into Spike.
Spike moans and rocks up his ass to the intruding fingers. "Mmmm god yessss please Sire." He's been more than two years without the feel of Angelus inside him and he is greedy for it now.
Angelus spreads some of the oil onto his own cock and moves so that he can press into Spike's tight little ass. He gives a groan as he feels himself buried in that silken passage. There's nothing like the sweetness of it, nothing in the world. He begins to lose himself in the sensations as he moves inside Spike.
Spike pushes back against Angelus and also works to clench and unclench himself along Angelus' length. The pleasure and just the slightest spice of pain run through him as Angelus' large cock stretches him open again and again. It is in moments like this that he knows he is made for Angelus, that the two of them belong together.
Angelus' thrusts get rougher, the pace harder as he gets more and more excited. Spike moans and pulls his knees up under himself. The two of them are moving together, fluidly, every flex of taut muscles in sheer perfection.
Angelus can feel all of his troubled thoughts slipping away. He can feel the veil of pain he's been living in for two years lifting. Who would have thought all he needed to relieve his pain was to fuck his boy again? As he climaxes, he can feel a wrenching jolt inside, and he shouts and passes into unconsciousness.
Spike feels Angelus slump onto him and he is confused. Slowly he manages to extricate himself from under Angelus without dumping his Sire on the floor. A few minutes later Angelus awakens, and then he laughs. "You've done it boy, the soul is gone. I don't know what happened but I'm free." He pulls Spike close and kisses him firmly. "Your Sire is back!"