I Feel You (Angel(us)/Spike) R 1/1
Title: I Feel You
By Tami (tabrandt @ hotmail.com)
Disclaimer: The characters from ATS / BTVS are owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox studios. This story is not meant to infringe upon anyone's rights, only to entertain.
BETA: Myself, lexa4227
Rating - R
Pairing - M/M, Angel/Spike
Timeline - After DESTINY (Angel: The Series, Season 5)
Summary - Angel and Spike come to terms with a couple of things. Something for so_sharlemaine.
Feedback - It would be appreciated. My plot bunny has been lagging lately.
Author's Note - Song fic
Word Count: 3,549
**************************
I Feel You
Spike hung by ropes from the ceiling in the center of Angel’s penthouse bedroom. He knew he had taken it a bit far when they came back from the fight over the Cup of Perpetual Nothing. He just had to have the last word in before he left for that corporeal drinking session. It seemed like a flippant comment on the way out the door. Something that was forgotten by the time he got back to the office.
Being corporeal after months as a ghost who got bored walking around the place on the first night had its disadvantages. One of those being that he had nowhere else to go. While Gunn, Fred, Lorne and Wes each had their own homes outside the building, he was stuck. He decided to crash on the leather couch in Angel’s office. He could be up and out of there before Captain Superhero came down for his morning cup of blood and office memo.
That was the idea anyway.
When Spike opened the door to Angel’s office, he stepped in and was met face to, well, chin with an angry looking Sire. He honestly had forgotten what he said to the older vampire only five hours before. Angel immediately grabbed him by the lapels of his duster and dragged him shouting about watching the leather over to his private elevator and threw him into the cubicle before following. Then, there was the stony silence on the way up.
Now, here he was hanging naked from the ceiling. Kind of like old times, it was. His Sire punished him this way for any infraction real or imagined then and he was doing it now. He knew that shiny soul of his Sire’s didn’t make a difference. To him, Angel and Angelus were one and the same. Angelus didn’t care for him back then, and Angel cared less for him now. The soul changed nothing.
“Is this how you get your rocks off, by torturing me?” Spike gritted out.
Why does everyone always want to chain me to the ceiling? Spike thought as he remembered Glory the bitch Hell-God.
“Do you really think having you hang from my bedroom ceiling pleases me, Spike?” Angel asked from the closet behind Spike.
“It must be since it was the first game you ever played with me after you made me,” Spike commented.
Angel turned to look at Spike’s smooth, flawless back. “Oh! Now, you’re claiming me as your Sire? From what I heard, you told Buffy that Dru sired you.” The dark vampire snorted at that and went back to what he was doing.
“It was fun telling Buffy all that. It made for a good story. Girl had to get her money’s worth and all,” Spike reasoned.
“Hmm,” Angel said distractedly.
“What are you doing, Angel? What’s this about?” Spike called behind him.
“Just something you said earlier triggered the need for action,” Angel answered.
“Oh yeah, what’s that mate?”
“Hopefully, by the time I’m done you’ll have figured it out, Spike.”
That comment was joined by the first lash of the whip. The strip of leather broke a thin line of skin, allowing a bit of blood to well up. The sharp pain made Spike wince a bit. It had been so long since he had felt his Sire’s adept skill at this. The lashes struck in measured strokes, painting his back in crimson lines. The scent of his blood permeated the air in the room.
I feel you
Your sun it shines
He smelled faint traces of Sire’s blood.
Angel’s blood.
Spike closed his eyes and lost himself in the scents. The pain from the strokes had become dulled as all his senses honed in on the aroma in the room. His nipples and cock hardened, balls drawing up slowly. It had been too many wasted years since he had smelled these intermingled scents.
Angel knew the second he had lost Spike to the rhythm of the strokes. There were enough slashes on his boy’s skin to suffice his needs. The blood that hadn’t splattered the pale skin, trickled tiny rivers down the slope of Spike’s back.
I feel you
Within my mind
You take me there
You take me where
The kingdom comes
Spike was lost in memory: exquisite days after coming home from a good hunt, torturous nights when Angelus used him to dispel his frustrations. The times when his Sire sought him out when Darla refused anymore attention and Drusilla hadn’t done enough to entertain him.
All these memories and Spike could feel Angel behind him. Though the whip was silent, held slack in Angel’s hand, there was a humming from the wounds crisscrossing his back. If he were alive, the humming would be throbbing pain. But, his senses were dulled to the intermingled scents and the memories they invoked. He didn’t feel the pain of the whipping.
You take me to
And lead me through
Babylon
As he concentrated on that one thing, he thought about his relationship with Buffy and what he knew of her relationship with his Sire. In her mind and heart, she thought she had a relationship with Angel. Hell, even Angel considered it a relationship. Spike wasn’t as dumb as he appeared to be to Buffy and her merry band of teenage sleuths. If anything, he was the perceptive one of the family. He played dumb and obnoxious, but in doing so, he could observe those around him. It’s the thing that made him an accurate judge when he finally did speak and tell the person something they didn’t want to hear about themselves or others.
Buffy couldn’t have had a meaningful relationship with Angel. She would have never understood a blood bond. She wouldn’t try to. It was too primal. Spike had tried to get her to tap into her primal side that whole winter she was using him to feel something. He tried to get her to embrace the darkness in her being. He tried to get her to touch the slayer’s essence inside her. She never listened, never learned what he had to teach her. To her, he was an evil, soulless creature that she used to get off on.
As much as she’d like to convince herself otherwise, Buffy would never know the depth of the connection Spike had with Angel. She never had that with him. It was something he had always had but ignored it. Neither he nor Angel wanted to acknowledge it in recent years. It would have been embarrassing to let anyone in the demon world know that your Sire was the vampire with a soul. But now, he had a soul as well.
This is the morning of our love
It’s just the dawning of our love
Spike hadn’t moved nor made a sound in the last half hour. After waiting so long for a reaction, Angel walked around to the front of his childe and looked at him. Spike’s eyes were closed and he was sporting an erection.
Angel was bare to the waist, only wearing a pair of trousers, and barefoot. He stood there in front of Spike watching him. The vampire in front of him had given him so much trouble as a fledgling. He had been a thorn in Angel’s side in recent years, doing everything he could think of to get his Sire’s attention. And, now that he had it? Spike was silent with eyes closed. He wondered what Spike was imagining or remembering.
I feel you
Your heart it sings
Spike had felt Angel move to stand in front of him. He knew where his Sire was at all times. It was a gift and a curse to know when you shared the same city, same room with your elder. That sense could cloud any vampire’s judgment. It was like having a parent watch their child’s every move and correcting it in front of others.
That feeling brought another fact to the forefront: Angel represented home. With Darla dead - for good this time - and Drusilla off hell knows where, as long as he knew where Angel was, Spike knew he would be okay. Angel hated to be reminded of the past, hated being reminded of what he was. In all that soul-searching and redemption-seeking, he hadn’t come to terms with being a vampire who had committed so much destruction.
I feel you
The joy it brings
What Spike told Xander Harris was right: it’s all about blood. Blood meant everything, connected you to everything. If nothing else, it was the blood in his veins that connected him to Angel. It wasn’t Drusilla, with whom he had spent a century trying to recoup that feeling of belonging to something. It wasn’t Buffy, whom he thought was his last link to his Sire because Angel had loved her and marked her with his scent. It was his own blood that made him a part of the demon standing in front of him. He felt Angel more keenly with each new insight that occurred as he hung from the ceiling.
Where heaven waits
Those golden gates
And back again
Angel continued to watch as Spike seemed to mull things over in his head, wondering if the blonde had come to the realization yet. He threw the whip down and untied Spike, letting him drop to the ground.
“Ow! Bloody hell!” Spike responded annoyed.
“Get up and go to the bed,” Angel commanded.
It had been a long day of work, fighting the good fight and fighting his childe; Angel was tired. When Spike picked himself up off the floor, Angel followed him.
Spike stood at the end of the bed and was just about to climb up on it when Angel stopped him by placing a big hand on his shoulder. The blonde closed his eyes again to the sensation. It was a common touch, a hand on a shoulder turning him around to face his companion. It was a common touch and yet it sent volts of electricity through his body. In all these years, his Sire had done nothing but touch him in anger and annoyance. Until now.
You take me to
And lead me through
Oblivion
Spike felt Angel’s hands move over him. They were nice, big, skilled hands. He had seen those hands cause so much destruction. He had seen them rip apart human and demon alike. Those hands turned killing into an art form. Those hands had brought him pleasure and pain with equal grace. Now, they were sliding over his body, carefully inspecting each crevice and curve by touch alone.
Spike groaned when he felt those hands wrap around his hardened shaft. He felt Angel slowly stroke the length. He was afraid to open his eyes and cause his Sire to stop. Then, he heard rustling and the sound of a zipper. That was when Spike decided to take a peek and saw that Angel had dropped his pants and was now standing equally hard in front of him.
Angel pushed Spike back on the bed, but never let go of his cock. Instead, he followed him down. Once they were level with each other, Angel wrapped his huge hand around both their cocks and stroked them in tandem. The dark vampire leaned closer and captured his childe’s lips in a searing kiss.
This is the morning of our love
It’s just the dawning of our love
Spike was momentarily surprised when Angel kissed him. It wasn’t as if his elder hadn’t kissed him before. But, he had mostly done it in anger or a show of dominance. The kisses had never been this needy before. He wondered what sort of game his Sire was playing this time. Not six hours ago they hated each other and were pounding each other with fists and fangs over a phantom holy grail for vampires. Now, Spike lay on the bed under Angel’s big bulk and was being kissed tenderly and passionately. What had gotten into him?
“I’m going to prove you wrong, Spike,” Angel whispered huskily in his ear.
Prove me wrong about what? Spike wanted to ask. In all the fervent kissing, touching and whipping, he had forgotten that Angel was trying to drum something into him. Before he could think further or even ask what his Sire meant, Angel was spreading his thighs and rubbing the head of his cock against his ass.
I feel you
Your precious soul
And I am whole
Spike pressed up against his Sire as Angel teased the opening before Spike felt himself slowly open up as Angel pressed deeper. This was a new experience in and of itself. His Sire had never cared to be tender before. As far as Spike knew, Angelus was hard, demanding and punishing in his sexual endeavors.
A new sensation overcame Spike when he felt Angel move completely within him and stop. His internal muscles contracted around the monolith stretching him. He opened his eyes and stared up at the dark vampire. There was an unreadable look in those chocolate eyes. When Spike finally allowed himself to relax, he felt it.
Angel was all around him, not only towering above him and buried as deep as he could get in Spike’s body, but really inside him. Angel’s soul, that’s what he had glimpsed in those eyes. He knew Angel had the soul; that was common knowledge. But, he’d never sought it out before.
Looking into Angel’s eyes, Spike could see everything: the pain and anguish the dark vampire went through every day was like a dark cloud of sadness in those eyes. He continued to stare, because he could do nothing else. Spike felt a well of emotion literally rise up into his throat and nearly choke him when he looked up at Angel.
I feel you
Your rising sun
My kingdom comes
Angel lay between Spike’s thighs, braced on his forearms, looking down at the blonde vampire. His childe was staring at him so intently that it made him wonder what Spike was searching for, and if he wasn’t searching then, he wondered if Spike found it.
He and Spike had known each other a long time. Sometimes it felt like it had been too long. Other times it felt like it wasn’t long enough. For instance, when he had gotten word that Spike had died in the Hellmouth, Angel locked himself in his rooms, grieving for days. If one asked his team what they knew of those days, they would have commented on the eerie howling. For all Angel’s threats to dust his unruly childe, he never actually pictured him gone from this realm before. As with all the sins committed in his life, Angel thought over all the ways it could have been different between them, if only Angelus had even thought to care about any of those he sired.
Angel had told Spike during the fight over that damnable Cup that Buffy could never love him because Spike wasn’t him. In some ways that’s true. He had a romanticized forbidden love with the enemy of their kind. Buffy spent years after he left measuring up every male she was ever with to him. He didn’t know that of course. It wasn’t like she told him that she did that. But, it’s what every woman has ever done since the beginning of time: holding any male up against their first love. Even if she used Spike for her own means, his childe was no different in that regard.
Then again, Spike had always come in second to him, even when they were evil. Angelus, dressed in leather, had given the illusion of delicious sin that made women swoon. Spike was just plain wicked and fun-loving, preferring the brawl to seducing women out of their pantaloons and their hot, sweet blood. Not that his childe wasn’t accomplished in that department; he just had different priorities when it came to the killing fields.
Now, Spike had a soul which he fought for. He wasn’t like Angel. Knowing that his childe had willingly gone out and sought to right a wrong by asking for his soul to be returned and having it permanently there made him a better man than himself. Angel’s demon was cursed with a soul, he never wanted it. Even if he was giving the chance today to do what Spike did, he didn’t think he would have taken it. He had been offered to remain human, to live the life he had always wanted to with Buffy and after 24 hours he had asked to be returned to his former state.
The elusive shanshu be damned. The prophecy that had been his guiding light for the past three years, the one claiming that a vampire with a soul, a Champion, will play a major role in the Apocalypse and receive a reward for his efforts. What efforts had he made in all this time? Doyle’s dead. Cordelia’s in a coma. Wesley, Gunn and Fred are perfect strangers to him now. Connor is only remembered by him. And let’s not forget being CEO of the very corporation he had been fighting against for the last four years. Who’s left unchanged but Spike?
“Angel?” Spike queried when his Sire had been quiet far too long.
Angel shook away his thoughts and refocused on Spike.
“As much as I enjoy this, are you going to move anytime soon? ’Cause, I understand that the friction between two bodies at a joined point helps with the achievement of an orgasm.”
A smirk slowly spread across Angel’s face at Spike’s words. Leave it to his childe to think of sex during a lesson. Though, what lesson and who was teaching whom was lost on him now. He had started this in an effort to show Spike that they were different. That Buffy would always choose him over Spike. But, somehow that got lost in translation.
I feel you
Each move you make
Spike grunted when Angel drew back his hips and thrust forward. In the position the dark vampire was in above him, Spike could feel his cock rubbing against Angel’s stomach every time he moved. This was more like it, Spike thought as he rocked against Angel. As far as Spike was concerned, his Sire could brood all he wanted as long as he kept moving.
I feel you
Each breath you take
The dark vampire could hear little groans and growls from Spike as he breathed unnecessarily to the rhythm Angel set. He tightened his hold on the blonde’s hip and forced him down as Angel pushed up into the willing body of his childe.
It was so tight and welcoming inside Spike, Angel had forgotten what that was like. It had been nearly two centuries since he felt this. All thought of the shanshu and redemption were thrown to the wayside in lieu of feeling Spike’s internal muscles contract and subsequent breathing, moaning and growling uttered from his childe’s lips.
Where angels sing
And spread their wings
My loves on high
Spike had never felt this before. Not with Buffy or Drusilla and definitely not with Angelus. The epiphany hit him like warm water washing over him. He felt his soul expand and it brought tears that stung his eyes. He didn’t let them fall however. Instead, he pressed his body up into Angel’s possessive touch in an attempt to get closer.
You take me home
To glory’s throne
By and by
Why had he fought it all this time? Not the soul, though, he and Angel were the only vampires in the world with a soul. That was a given. But, why did he fight this connection with his Sire for so long. His very existence started with the demon that was currently taking him and imprinting his claim with hard, possessive thrusts of his cock. He should have known that his life would end with this same demon. That wasn’t the epiphany, not entirely anyway.
The thing that became as clear as day was that he was Angel. All this time Spike had fought against any reminder of the Sire, who had mistreated and abandoned him nearly two centuries ago and yet, there hasn’t been a time in all the years between that he was ever completely deserted. Twenty years together before Angel was cursed. Then two years later in China, the time he had glimpsed a ragged-looking Angel in Nepal in the 1920s, the German submarine in 1943, then again in Sunnydale in 1998. The fact they chased after the same women, and now as they both inhabited the building of Wolfram & Hart. His destiny was entwined forever with Angel’s. Even so, he still didn’t put much credit in that prophecy of Wesley’s.
This is the morning of our love
It’s just the dawning of our love
As Spike clung to Angel’s broad shoulders and tightened his thighs around his Sire’s waist, letting the impending orgasm wash over him, his last coherently thought was that he had his own prophecy to fulfill: to follow and let his Sire guide him. With that, Spike sank his fangs into Angel’s neck at the same time he felt sharp fangs puncture his own throat.
By Tami (tabrandt @ hotmail.com)
Disclaimer: The characters from ATS / BTVS are owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox studios. This story is not meant to infringe upon anyone's rights, only to entertain.
BETA: Myself, lexa4227
Rating - R
Pairing - M/M, Angel/Spike
Timeline - After DESTINY (Angel: The Series, Season 5)
Summary - Angel and Spike come to terms with a couple of things. Something for so_sharlemaine.
Feedback - It would be appreciated. My plot bunny has been lagging lately.
Author's Note - Song fic
Word Count: 3,549
**************************
I Feel You
Spike hung by ropes from the ceiling in the center of Angel’s penthouse bedroom. He knew he had taken it a bit far when they came back from the fight over the Cup of Perpetual Nothing. He just had to have the last word in before he left for that corporeal drinking session. It seemed like a flippant comment on the way out the door. Something that was forgotten by the time he got back to the office.
Being corporeal after months as a ghost who got bored walking around the place on the first night had its disadvantages. One of those being that he had nowhere else to go. While Gunn, Fred, Lorne and Wes each had their own homes outside the building, he was stuck. He decided to crash on the leather couch in Angel’s office. He could be up and out of there before Captain Superhero came down for his morning cup of blood and office memo.
That was the idea anyway.
When Spike opened the door to Angel’s office, he stepped in and was met face to, well, chin with an angry looking Sire. He honestly had forgotten what he said to the older vampire only five hours before. Angel immediately grabbed him by the lapels of his duster and dragged him shouting about watching the leather over to his private elevator and threw him into the cubicle before following. Then, there was the stony silence on the way up.
Now, here he was hanging naked from the ceiling. Kind of like old times, it was. His Sire punished him this way for any infraction real or imagined then and he was doing it now. He knew that shiny soul of his Sire’s didn’t make a difference. To him, Angel and Angelus were one and the same. Angelus didn’t care for him back then, and Angel cared less for him now. The soul changed nothing.
“Is this how you get your rocks off, by torturing me?” Spike gritted out.
Why does everyone always want to chain me to the ceiling? Spike thought as he remembered Glory the bitch Hell-God.
“Do you really think having you hang from my bedroom ceiling pleases me, Spike?” Angel asked from the closet behind Spike.
“It must be since it was the first game you ever played with me after you made me,” Spike commented.
Angel turned to look at Spike’s smooth, flawless back. “Oh! Now, you’re claiming me as your Sire? From what I heard, you told Buffy that Dru sired you.” The dark vampire snorted at that and went back to what he was doing.
“It was fun telling Buffy all that. It made for a good story. Girl had to get her money’s worth and all,” Spike reasoned.
“Hmm,” Angel said distractedly.
“What are you doing, Angel? What’s this about?” Spike called behind him.
“Just something you said earlier triggered the need for action,” Angel answered.
“Oh yeah, what’s that mate?”
“Hopefully, by the time I’m done you’ll have figured it out, Spike.”
That comment was joined by the first lash of the whip. The strip of leather broke a thin line of skin, allowing a bit of blood to well up. The sharp pain made Spike wince a bit. It had been so long since he had felt his Sire’s adept skill at this. The lashes struck in measured strokes, painting his back in crimson lines. The scent of his blood permeated the air in the room.
I feel you
Your sun it shines
He smelled faint traces of Sire’s blood.
Angel’s blood.
Spike closed his eyes and lost himself in the scents. The pain from the strokes had become dulled as all his senses honed in on the aroma in the room. His nipples and cock hardened, balls drawing up slowly. It had been too many wasted years since he had smelled these intermingled scents.
Angel knew the second he had lost Spike to the rhythm of the strokes. There were enough slashes on his boy’s skin to suffice his needs. The blood that hadn’t splattered the pale skin, trickled tiny rivers down the slope of Spike’s back.
I feel you
Within my mind
You take me there
You take me where
The kingdom comes
Spike was lost in memory: exquisite days after coming home from a good hunt, torturous nights when Angelus used him to dispel his frustrations. The times when his Sire sought him out when Darla refused anymore attention and Drusilla hadn’t done enough to entertain him.
All these memories and Spike could feel Angel behind him. Though the whip was silent, held slack in Angel’s hand, there was a humming from the wounds crisscrossing his back. If he were alive, the humming would be throbbing pain. But, his senses were dulled to the intermingled scents and the memories they invoked. He didn’t feel the pain of the whipping.
You take me to
And lead me through
Babylon
As he concentrated on that one thing, he thought about his relationship with Buffy and what he knew of her relationship with his Sire. In her mind and heart, she thought she had a relationship with Angel. Hell, even Angel considered it a relationship. Spike wasn’t as dumb as he appeared to be to Buffy and her merry band of teenage sleuths. If anything, he was the perceptive one of the family. He played dumb and obnoxious, but in doing so, he could observe those around him. It’s the thing that made him an accurate judge when he finally did speak and tell the person something they didn’t want to hear about themselves or others.
Buffy couldn’t have had a meaningful relationship with Angel. She would have never understood a blood bond. She wouldn’t try to. It was too primal. Spike had tried to get her to tap into her primal side that whole winter she was using him to feel something. He tried to get her to embrace the darkness in her being. He tried to get her to touch the slayer’s essence inside her. She never listened, never learned what he had to teach her. To her, he was an evil, soulless creature that she used to get off on.
As much as she’d like to convince herself otherwise, Buffy would never know the depth of the connection Spike had with Angel. She never had that with him. It was something he had always had but ignored it. Neither he nor Angel wanted to acknowledge it in recent years. It would have been embarrassing to let anyone in the demon world know that your Sire was the vampire with a soul. But now, he had a soul as well.
This is the morning of our love
It’s just the dawning of our love
Spike hadn’t moved nor made a sound in the last half hour. After waiting so long for a reaction, Angel walked around to the front of his childe and looked at him. Spike’s eyes were closed and he was sporting an erection.
Angel was bare to the waist, only wearing a pair of trousers, and barefoot. He stood there in front of Spike watching him. The vampire in front of him had given him so much trouble as a fledgling. He had been a thorn in Angel’s side in recent years, doing everything he could think of to get his Sire’s attention. And, now that he had it? Spike was silent with eyes closed. He wondered what Spike was imagining or remembering.
I feel you
Your heart it sings
Spike had felt Angel move to stand in front of him. He knew where his Sire was at all times. It was a gift and a curse to know when you shared the same city, same room with your elder. That sense could cloud any vampire’s judgment. It was like having a parent watch their child’s every move and correcting it in front of others.
That feeling brought another fact to the forefront: Angel represented home. With Darla dead - for good this time - and Drusilla off hell knows where, as long as he knew where Angel was, Spike knew he would be okay. Angel hated to be reminded of the past, hated being reminded of what he was. In all that soul-searching and redemption-seeking, he hadn’t come to terms with being a vampire who had committed so much destruction.
I feel you
The joy it brings
What Spike told Xander Harris was right: it’s all about blood. Blood meant everything, connected you to everything. If nothing else, it was the blood in his veins that connected him to Angel. It wasn’t Drusilla, with whom he had spent a century trying to recoup that feeling of belonging to something. It wasn’t Buffy, whom he thought was his last link to his Sire because Angel had loved her and marked her with his scent. It was his own blood that made him a part of the demon standing in front of him. He felt Angel more keenly with each new insight that occurred as he hung from the ceiling.
Where heaven waits
Those golden gates
And back again
Angel continued to watch as Spike seemed to mull things over in his head, wondering if the blonde had come to the realization yet. He threw the whip down and untied Spike, letting him drop to the ground.
“Ow! Bloody hell!” Spike responded annoyed.
“Get up and go to the bed,” Angel commanded.
It had been a long day of work, fighting the good fight and fighting his childe; Angel was tired. When Spike picked himself up off the floor, Angel followed him.
Spike stood at the end of the bed and was just about to climb up on it when Angel stopped him by placing a big hand on his shoulder. The blonde closed his eyes again to the sensation. It was a common touch, a hand on a shoulder turning him around to face his companion. It was a common touch and yet it sent volts of electricity through his body. In all these years, his Sire had done nothing but touch him in anger and annoyance. Until now.
You take me to
And lead me through
Oblivion
Spike felt Angel’s hands move over him. They were nice, big, skilled hands. He had seen those hands cause so much destruction. He had seen them rip apart human and demon alike. Those hands turned killing into an art form. Those hands had brought him pleasure and pain with equal grace. Now, they were sliding over his body, carefully inspecting each crevice and curve by touch alone.
Spike groaned when he felt those hands wrap around his hardened shaft. He felt Angel slowly stroke the length. He was afraid to open his eyes and cause his Sire to stop. Then, he heard rustling and the sound of a zipper. That was when Spike decided to take a peek and saw that Angel had dropped his pants and was now standing equally hard in front of him.
Angel pushed Spike back on the bed, but never let go of his cock. Instead, he followed him down. Once they were level with each other, Angel wrapped his huge hand around both their cocks and stroked them in tandem. The dark vampire leaned closer and captured his childe’s lips in a searing kiss.
This is the morning of our love
It’s just the dawning of our love
Spike was momentarily surprised when Angel kissed him. It wasn’t as if his elder hadn’t kissed him before. But, he had mostly done it in anger or a show of dominance. The kisses had never been this needy before. He wondered what sort of game his Sire was playing this time. Not six hours ago they hated each other and were pounding each other with fists and fangs over a phantom holy grail for vampires. Now, Spike lay on the bed under Angel’s big bulk and was being kissed tenderly and passionately. What had gotten into him?
“I’m going to prove you wrong, Spike,” Angel whispered huskily in his ear.
Prove me wrong about what? Spike wanted to ask. In all the fervent kissing, touching and whipping, he had forgotten that Angel was trying to drum something into him. Before he could think further or even ask what his Sire meant, Angel was spreading his thighs and rubbing the head of his cock against his ass.
I feel you
Your precious soul
And I am whole
Spike pressed up against his Sire as Angel teased the opening before Spike felt himself slowly open up as Angel pressed deeper. This was a new experience in and of itself. His Sire had never cared to be tender before. As far as Spike knew, Angelus was hard, demanding and punishing in his sexual endeavors.
A new sensation overcame Spike when he felt Angel move completely within him and stop. His internal muscles contracted around the monolith stretching him. He opened his eyes and stared up at the dark vampire. There was an unreadable look in those chocolate eyes. When Spike finally allowed himself to relax, he felt it.
Angel was all around him, not only towering above him and buried as deep as he could get in Spike’s body, but really inside him. Angel’s soul, that’s what he had glimpsed in those eyes. He knew Angel had the soul; that was common knowledge. But, he’d never sought it out before.
Looking into Angel’s eyes, Spike could see everything: the pain and anguish the dark vampire went through every day was like a dark cloud of sadness in those eyes. He continued to stare, because he could do nothing else. Spike felt a well of emotion literally rise up into his throat and nearly choke him when he looked up at Angel.
I feel you
Your rising sun
My kingdom comes
Angel lay between Spike’s thighs, braced on his forearms, looking down at the blonde vampire. His childe was staring at him so intently that it made him wonder what Spike was searching for, and if he wasn’t searching then, he wondered if Spike found it.
He and Spike had known each other a long time. Sometimes it felt like it had been too long. Other times it felt like it wasn’t long enough. For instance, when he had gotten word that Spike had died in the Hellmouth, Angel locked himself in his rooms, grieving for days. If one asked his team what they knew of those days, they would have commented on the eerie howling. For all Angel’s threats to dust his unruly childe, he never actually pictured him gone from this realm before. As with all the sins committed in his life, Angel thought over all the ways it could have been different between them, if only Angelus had even thought to care about any of those he sired.
Angel had told Spike during the fight over that damnable Cup that Buffy could never love him because Spike wasn’t him. In some ways that’s true. He had a romanticized forbidden love with the enemy of their kind. Buffy spent years after he left measuring up every male she was ever with to him. He didn’t know that of course. It wasn’t like she told him that she did that. But, it’s what every woman has ever done since the beginning of time: holding any male up against their first love. Even if she used Spike for her own means, his childe was no different in that regard.
Then again, Spike had always come in second to him, even when they were evil. Angelus, dressed in leather, had given the illusion of delicious sin that made women swoon. Spike was just plain wicked and fun-loving, preferring the brawl to seducing women out of their pantaloons and their hot, sweet blood. Not that his childe wasn’t accomplished in that department; he just had different priorities when it came to the killing fields.
Now, Spike had a soul which he fought for. He wasn’t like Angel. Knowing that his childe had willingly gone out and sought to right a wrong by asking for his soul to be returned and having it permanently there made him a better man than himself. Angel’s demon was cursed with a soul, he never wanted it. Even if he was giving the chance today to do what Spike did, he didn’t think he would have taken it. He had been offered to remain human, to live the life he had always wanted to with Buffy and after 24 hours he had asked to be returned to his former state.
The elusive shanshu be damned. The prophecy that had been his guiding light for the past three years, the one claiming that a vampire with a soul, a Champion, will play a major role in the Apocalypse and receive a reward for his efforts. What efforts had he made in all this time? Doyle’s dead. Cordelia’s in a coma. Wesley, Gunn and Fred are perfect strangers to him now. Connor is only remembered by him. And let’s not forget being CEO of the very corporation he had been fighting against for the last four years. Who’s left unchanged but Spike?
“Angel?” Spike queried when his Sire had been quiet far too long.
Angel shook away his thoughts and refocused on Spike.
“As much as I enjoy this, are you going to move anytime soon? ’Cause, I understand that the friction between two bodies at a joined point helps with the achievement of an orgasm.”
A smirk slowly spread across Angel’s face at Spike’s words. Leave it to his childe to think of sex during a lesson. Though, what lesson and who was teaching whom was lost on him now. He had started this in an effort to show Spike that they were different. That Buffy would always choose him over Spike. But, somehow that got lost in translation.
I feel you
Each move you make
Spike grunted when Angel drew back his hips and thrust forward. In the position the dark vampire was in above him, Spike could feel his cock rubbing against Angel’s stomach every time he moved. This was more like it, Spike thought as he rocked against Angel. As far as Spike was concerned, his Sire could brood all he wanted as long as he kept moving.
I feel you
Each breath you take
The dark vampire could hear little groans and growls from Spike as he breathed unnecessarily to the rhythm Angel set. He tightened his hold on the blonde’s hip and forced him down as Angel pushed up into the willing body of his childe.
It was so tight and welcoming inside Spike, Angel had forgotten what that was like. It had been nearly two centuries since he felt this. All thought of the shanshu and redemption were thrown to the wayside in lieu of feeling Spike’s internal muscles contract and subsequent breathing, moaning and growling uttered from his childe’s lips.
Where angels sing
And spread their wings
My loves on high
Spike had never felt this before. Not with Buffy or Drusilla and definitely not with Angelus. The epiphany hit him like warm water washing over him. He felt his soul expand and it brought tears that stung his eyes. He didn’t let them fall however. Instead, he pressed his body up into Angel’s possessive touch in an attempt to get closer.
You take me home
To glory’s throne
By and by
Why had he fought it all this time? Not the soul, though, he and Angel were the only vampires in the world with a soul. That was a given. But, why did he fight this connection with his Sire for so long. His very existence started with the demon that was currently taking him and imprinting his claim with hard, possessive thrusts of his cock. He should have known that his life would end with this same demon. That wasn’t the epiphany, not entirely anyway.
The thing that became as clear as day was that he was Angel. All this time Spike had fought against any reminder of the Sire, who had mistreated and abandoned him nearly two centuries ago and yet, there hasn’t been a time in all the years between that he was ever completely deserted. Twenty years together before Angel was cursed. Then two years later in China, the time he had glimpsed a ragged-looking Angel in Nepal in the 1920s, the German submarine in 1943, then again in Sunnydale in 1998. The fact they chased after the same women, and now as they both inhabited the building of Wolfram & Hart. His destiny was entwined forever with Angel’s. Even so, he still didn’t put much credit in that prophecy of Wesley’s.
This is the morning of our love
It’s just the dawning of our love
As Spike clung to Angel’s broad shoulders and tightened his thighs around his Sire’s waist, letting the impending orgasm wash over him, his last coherently thought was that he had his own prophecy to fulfill: to follow and let his Sire guide him. With that, Spike sank his fangs into Angel’s neck at the same time he felt sharp fangs puncture his own throat.