Fic: Blackout 2/6
Previous chapter and warnings here
Blackout, Chapter 2
They were both silent on the way down, Angel too lost in his confused thoughts to pay much attention to the vampire beside him. The one that wasn’t fidgeting, wasn’t tapping hyper fingers against the wall, wasn’t uttering a single word. He was actually so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the small movement until the elevator abruptly stopped. He looked up just in time to see Spike take his finger off the STOP button, and like in slow motion he watched him turn towards him, fall on his knees and before he knew what was happening his zipper was being pulled down and… Jesus fucking Christ!
“Oh God! Spike! What are you… oh fuck! Jesus!” He leaned back against the wall, wrapping shaking fingers around the railing behind him. Spike’s tongue was doing unimaginable things to him and then he sucked him inside his mouth and…
Angel looked down at the bleached head bobbing in front of him as his wet cock slid in and out between pink lips. “Oh God, Spike…”
Spike looked up and Angel froze. His eyes were completely blank, like there was no one awake behind them. Oh fuck. For a moment he contemplated letting Spike finish but it was a very short moment and it made him feel dirty enough that his erection wilted a bit. Stifling a groan he pushed Spike away and with much difficulty tugged himself in.
Spike was sitting on the floor, watching him with those creepy blank eyes. “Sorry, sir. Something else you want? I can…” His hands moved to unbutton his own pants.
“No! Nothing. Don’t do anything. Just…” He pulled Spike up to his feet and this close the scent of Connor was overwhelming. Mixed with his own arousal it made his stomach turn. “Just stand still. We’ll be there in a moment.”
He reached out with a shaking hand, pushed the button and the cart resumed its descent. The rest of the journey was spent in silence and, for Angel, in great confusion and shame.
Wes was waiting for them in the examination room, his grey face another reminder of Angel’s failure. “There you are. Spike, I heard you’ve been…”
He stopped short as Spike slunk over to him, graceful like a cat, trailed a finger down his chest and was just about to drop to his knees when Angel grabbed his arm and pulled him up again. Spike’s expression didn’t change but Wes looked shocked and, Angel jealously noticed, even a bit disappointed.
“Ah. I see. You didn’t mention…”
“Does it matter?” The growl was harsher than he planned and Wes took a step back.
“No. Of course not. Well…” At the look on Angel’s face he shook his head vigorously. “No, not at all.” He stepped over to Spike and stared into his eyes for a while, then waved his hand in front of the blank face. “Fascinating. Do you know what triggers it?”
“Triggers?” Angel blinked and then blushed. Again. “Why do you think something triggers it? Maybe it just happens. Like… ping.”
“Ping?” Wes noted absentmindedly, too occupied by the specimen in front of him to notice anything odd. “Perhaps. But last time…”
“You knew about that?”
Wes finally looked up. “Well, yes. Everyone knows about that.” The look on Angel’s face made him smile awkwardly. “Or perhaps not. He didn’t tell you? The First controlled him with this quaint little English ditty. My mother used to sing it for me too, actually. Now how did it go? ‘Early one…”
Angel’s hand clasped over his mouth and he panicked, jabbing his elbow into Angel’s ribs.
“Fuck. What the hell are you doing, Wes?”
Wes glared at him. “What the hell are you doing?”
Angel sighed and rubbed his side. “What if you trigger him again? It’s enough to have him all… horny without turning him homicidal as well.”
Now it was Wesley’s time to sigh in his particular I-must-remember-I’m-talking-to-an-idiot way. “They broke that trigger. And I don’t even know if this is the same kind of thing. I was just wondering.”
“Oh.” Maybe he should get Spike to tell him about it all one day. Or just ask someone else since they all seemed to know everything about Spike better than he did. Hiding his confused feelings of guilt and jealousy he looked around in fake interest. “So how about that CAT scan then?”
Wes eyed Spike warily. “Are you sure it’s okay to do it while he’s like that? Since we can’t really explain to him what’s happening maybe he’ll freak?”
“As far as I can tell he’ll be a lot more compliant like this than he would have been as himself.” That brought up such dirty and infuriating images of Spike being pushed and ordered around by strangers that he had to turn away to calm himself. When he turned back Spike was already lying down and then being slid into the tube and he couldn’t help the twist in his gut at seeing him so… obedient. It just looked so wrong.
For the hour it took he paced around in the small room, intimidating the doctors and irritating Wes with his growls and question of ‘Isn’t it done yet?’ every five minutes. Spike’s legs were sticking out of the device and he kept expecting him to start struggling or cursing. The fact that he didn’t was petrifying. There was a small monitor that showed Spike’s face and he found himself staring at it, waiting for it to twitch or grimace or just… anything. It didn’t.
“There’s nothing. He’s absolutely normal.” Wes frowned. “Well, brain wise anyway. Who’d have thought?” He sighed when the small joke didn’t even bring on a hint of a smile. “Right. Better get him out of there then.” He nodded to the doctors to leave them.
Angel hovered over him like a mother hen when the bed slid out of the tube. Spike just got to his feet and then stood patiently while Wes prodded him and poked, then wrote the disappointingly inconclusive results down on his pad. Finally he stood back and sighed.
“Can’t find anything wrong with him, Angel. Mystical came up with nothing so I guess we’re back to the old fashion hypnosis theory.”
“What? You think someone hypnotised him to do those things? Who would do that?”
“Actually what worries me more is that it was possible in the first place. See, the thing is, you can’t hypnotise people to do something against their will.”
“But he’s been…” Angel paused, not willing to give away too much of Spike’s humiliation. “Why would he behave like that. So…”
“Submissive?” Wes looked over at Spike. A sad look of compassion passed over his face. “Maybe he thinks that’s what he deserves. After all, this soul thing is quite new to him and even if you never went this way he might see it as…”
“Who said I didn’t? Over a hundred years alone and broke, living of rodents and dead beggars… even I had my weak moments. Sometimes all you crave is someone to touch you-” Angel abruptly stopped. Why he was telling Wes this he didn’t know. Maybe because for a short moment he felt like he had his old friend and confidant back.
The silence was deafening. Then suddenly Spike crumbled to the floor and the spell was broken. Angel dropped by his side, trying to revive him but he was completely out. Together he and Wes carried him into the next room and lay him down on a hospital bed.
“I’ll check into the hypnosis thing. See how we can break it. If that’s what it is. I’ve never heard of hypnosis rendering such a harsh reaction though but that could actually be his own mind, punishing him for his actions.” Wes patted Angel awkwardly on the arm but he didn’t even notice, just stood staring down at the very pale vampire that seemed to fade against the white sheets. “Angel?”
“What? Yeah. Sure. I’ll…” He looked down at Spike again. “I’m taking him upstairs. Call me.”
“Of course.”
Wes stood back as Angel scooped Spike up and carried him out of the medical department and into the elevator. If the gentle act seemed odd to him he didn’t mention it.
~~~~~~~~~~
The splitting headache was so severe that he wished he’d stayed unconscious. Peering out of half-closed lids he scanned the room and immediately relaxed when he saw Angel sitting in the comfy chair, head fallen to the side, drool dribbling in a tiny string down his chin. Spike couldn’t help smiling even if the small movement made his head ache even worse. Then he remembered why he was lying there and the smile faded away.
He had no recollection of what had happened, any more than usual, but knowing that ‘it’ had happened while he was with Angel made him feel a shame so deep he wanted to sink back into oblivion. Had he offered himself to Angel? Had he behaved like the common whore the evidence seemed to indicate he was? There was no fresh pain but that didn’t mean he hadn’t…
And no matter how much he wanted him, wanted him to want him back, he didn’t want it to happen like that. Like they were just a whore and a john, like it didn’t mean anything. Besides, Angel’s cock up his arse was something he wanted to remember. After all, the memory of it being there had stayed with him for over a hundred years.
“I’m not a pervert!” Angel’s flailing around came to an abrupt stop when he realised where he was. Clearing his throat in embarrassment he wiped the drool off his chin and sat up straight, looking over at Spike. “Oh, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
Spike decided to ignore the pervert thing for more worrying matters. At least for now. “Why? What did I do?” The awkward look on Angel’s face made him groan and he closed his eyes. “You better have paid me decently for it because…”
“Nothing happened. And I wouldn’t pay you anyway.” At the look of annoyance on Spike’s face he added, “Wes on the other hand…”
It felt like a punch in his gut. “No! Angel, I can’t believe it. You fucking told him? I trusted you and you…”
“You kinda dropped to your knees and were about to pull him out when I stopped you.”
Spike suddenly went pale and Angel just managed to put the bucket in place before he vomited over the side of the bed. Afterwards he lay still on his side, eyes closed. His stomach was cramping and he was pretty sure his head would explode.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That wasn’t fair. And I didn’t tell him everything. Just that you were…” Angel paused, “…horny.”
“Great. Why don’t you just put me in a room and sell admittance? Could make a pretty penny whoring me out.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. Then he could hear Angel standing up from the chair.
“I could. God knows there’d be plenty of men, or women for that matter, ready to pay for your pretty mouth and tight ass.” Angel’s voice shivered slightly. “But I rather resent the implication that I’d do such a thing. I’m not Angelus, Spike, no matter how evil you seem to think I am. For what it’s worth you did your best to try to suck me off too and I didn’t let you. And not because I didn’t want you to, believe me I did, but because it would have been wrong. I don’t know what is making you do this but I’m not the bad guy here.”
Spike hitched his breath and opened his eyes in time to see Angel turning away and heading for the door. “Wait!” Angel stopped but he didn’t turn around. His whole body looked tense and angry. Spike sat up, pushing back the nausea. “I’m sorry, all right? I don’t know why I said that. It was stupid. And I know you’re not Angelus. If you were I’d be dead by now.”
When Angel still didn’t look at him he staggered out of the bed and over to him, grabbing his arm to keep himself steady. “Angel… I can’t do this without you.”
Angel turned slowly. His eyes were dark but they weren’t angry. “I’m not going to leave you in a rut just because we had a little spat, Spike. And I can’t really blame you for not trusting me, after all Angelus… I did things even worse than that to you. I haven’t forgotten. Any of it. But things are different now. We are both different now. I would never do that to you. And you would never let me do that to you.”
He turned away again but Spike’s soft voice stopped him. “I would. If you asked me to.”
He stood still, waiting for Angel to start yelling at him again. But instead his head was tilted upwards and he was looking straight into Angel’s eyes. They were like dark pools and the air around them suddenly became heavy. His knees felt weak and he parted his lips, drawing in shallow breaths. He thought he saw a golden flame in Angel’s eyes and then he was pulled tight into Angel’s arms. He forgot everything else as hungry lips claimed his.
Through the buzzing in his ears he felt hands roaming his body, heard sweet words moaned into his mouth, and then he was falling, falling… Suddenly there was a bed underneath him and Angel was hovering over him, such primal need in his eyes that he felt his cock pulsate in anticipation.
“We can’t do this. You’re not well and…” Angel closed his eyes, trying to regain his control.
“I want this. I want you. Bugger it, Angel. Haven’t we waited long enough?”
Angel’s eyes flicked open and he stared down at him. “You’ve been waiting?” He swallowed. “I thought you were just teasing me.”
Spike groaned. “I’m not that cruel. I was just hoping for a sign.” He gasped as Angel ground their erections together. “Think that’s a sign if I ever felt one.”
“Fuck. I want to…” Suddenly Angel rolled off and sat up, hiding his face in his hands. “I can’t do this. Not when you smell like that.”
Spike lay frozen. Then he swallowed. “You think I’m filthy.” He sat up and swung his feet over the side of the bed. “I am. A filthy whore, tainted by their scent.”
“No! Well, yeah I can smell them but it isn’t that.” Angel hesitated, and then looked up. “I can’t because you smell like Connor. My son. You’re wearing his clothes.”
Spike blinked. “Your son? You have a son?” He looked down at the crumpled jeans and sweater. “And I smell like…” His eyes widened and he shivered in disgust. “Oh God, that’s absolutely perverted!”
“Yes, thank you.” Angel gritted his teeth. “We need to get you some other clothes. And a bath. Preferably in chloride.” He stood up and adjusted his pants. “You feel well enough to go to your place?”
“Since I feel well enough to shag I guess I’ll manage that.” He sat up, swallowed and took a deep breath before standing up. He noticed Angel stayed close by, as if ready to catch him. He reached for his leather coat, then paused. “Erm… thing is, I don’t actually have a bath. I do have a shower though but no hot water.”
Angel was staring at him, unconsciously wrinkling his nose. “How have you been keeping clean? Licking yourself?” His stare suddenly went out of focus and Spike rolled his eyes.
“No, you idiot. I’m not a bloody cat. The hot water only got cut off last week, all right? Apparently I’m supposed to pay some bill.” He scowled. “I’m a vampire. Vampires don’t pay bills.”
“I do.”
“Well, yeah. But you don’t count. After all, you’re a nancy-boy vampire.” He smirked.
“Oh yes. Because I’m the one fainting left and right.”
Spike’s face fell. “Yeah, well… I’ll go home and change then. See you later.” He strode toward the door, duster clutched in his hand.
“Spike, wait! Wait! I’m sorry.” Angel grabbed his arm. “Spike! You can’t go alone!”
That stopped him in his tracks but he didn’t turn around. “I’m not a child, Angel. I can take care of myself.”
“No, you can’t. Didn’t we just establish that? What if you have another episode? What if the next time I see you you’re bruised and broken from your newest john?”
Spike flinched and wrenched his arm free but the pleading in Angel’s voice stopped him again.
“What if there is no next time? What if come morning you walk out into the sun because you can’t remember what you are?”
Spike stood still. He closed his eyes, the leather coat creaking as he clenched his fists. “I’d rather die anyway than…”
Angel slammed his palm flat against the door, making Spike jump. “Fuck, Spike. You’d rather dust than allow me to help you? Do you really resent me that much?” So much hurt Spike could smell it in the air.
Spike slumped, the anger draining out of him. He felt too tired, like the decades were catching up with him and he just wanted to lie down and sleep until the end of time. “I don’t… I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… I feel so bloody helpless. Doesn’t matter what I do, I can’t control this. I tried. I locked myself up, I stayed awake for days, I haven’t had a drop to drink since…”
“But you didn’t come to me.”
Forget smell, the taste of hurt was coating his tongue. He shrugged, unwilling to give his thoughts away. “I told you why. Besides, I didn’t think you’d care.”
“You didn’t…? Why? I mean… Will…?”
He swung around, his anger flaring up again. “Don’t! Don’t call me that! You have no right to call me that.”
“Wi… Spike. What is…?” Angel rolled his eyes. “Jesus! We almost fucked five minutes ago. And now I can’t even talk to you?”
“That’s right. Fucked. Just like old times, eh?”
Angel blinked. “What? I thought… you said…” He frowned. “Is this about Sunnydale? Look, I know-”
“No! This isn’t about fucking Sunnydale. You never called me Will in Sunnydale! You haven’t called me Will since…” He stopped, breath heaving.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Angel sat down heavily on the bed. “I didn’t think of that. It was all such a long time ago.”
“One hundred and six years, three months and twelve days. And still it seems like yesterday.”
“Spike…”
“Look, let’s just forget it, all right? I need to get clean. I need…” He closed his eyes, his head was starting to hurt again. “Just drive me home, ok?”
~~~~~~~
They drove in silence. When the car stopped Angel got out of the car as well, ignoring Spike’s glare. He tried to keep his face neutral even if Spike’s place of living made him shiver. The neighbourhood wasn’t exactly Beverly Hills, the house was a clear winner of The Ugliness Awards and the small basement apartment… How anyone could live like that was a mystery to him. Okay, so he had from time to time but…
There were no windows, just bare walls. An old bed, a tattered couch, a small second hand TV. He wandered into the kitchen, pretending he wanted to get a glass of water so he could check the fridge. An old Chinese take-out container. Nothing else. No blood, no beer, nothing. No wonder he looked so thin.
“If you’re hungry there are rats in the hall.” The voice was cold and he turned around, feeling guilty. Spike was standing with a pair of jeans and a t-shirt tucked under his arm, glaring at him. “Can we leave now?”
“You’re not taking anything else?”
Spike gave him a cold stare. “Like what? Look around you, rich boy. This is all I have.”
“Oh.” That seemed to be his response to everything tonight. He thought of the dozens of suits hanging unused in his closet. His selection of shoes which worth alone could probably feed a small village. He closed the fridge, leaving the rotting Chinese food standing alone on the shelf. He felt like he should apologise but the look on Spike’s face told him he better not.
The drive back was even more oppressing. In the elevator on the way up to the penthouse they didn’t look at each other. Angel could feel Spike’s anger like electricity in the air and he wished he could reach out and touch him, tell him… What? That he was sorry? Sorry about the past, sorry about Sunnydale, sorry about how things were between them, sorry about how he had ignored him, sorry that he hadn’t known things were so bad…
He stood by the window, watching the city go to sleep outside, listening once again to Spike showering. He felt a strange kind of sadness. The hurt in Spike’s eyes as he talked about the past…
Every time such thoughts had sneaked up on him he’d suppressed them. He didn’t want to think of the past in any way other than regret and guilt. He’d been evil and so the things he did, the feelings he had, they had to be evil as well. Except that thoughts of Will… they made him feel totally different. But he didn’t deserve those feelings. Didn’t deserve…
“Angel?”
He turned around, expecting another verbal Cold War, but Spike didn’t look angry anymore, just tired. And lost. He was only wearing a towel around his waist, the clothes he’d brought with him hanging limp and wet in his hands.
“Spike?”
“They smell. They still smell. I washed them again and again in the sink but I can still…” The clothes fell from his hand and he shuddered. “Do I… Do I smell? Can you smell them on me?”
Angel walked over to him, his heart aching. “No, Spike. You smell good.” He reached out for him and when Spike didn’t flinch back he pulled him into a hug, inhaling sharply. “You smell of moonlight and leather. You smell of my expensive shampoo and my moisturising soap. You smell wonderful. They’re gone. They’re all gone. Not a trace left of them.”
He buried his face in Spike’s hair and closed his eyes, for a short moment allowing himself to go back to a time and place he hardly ever visited without feelings of such strong self disgust that it overpowered anything else he’d ever felt. Spike’s skin was still warm from the shower and drops of water were trickling slowly down his back from the wet curls on his neck. He suddenly became very aware of the thin towel being the only thing that separated them. Embarrassed he tried to let go but as his hands lifted Spike moved his own up and wrapped his arms hesitantly around Angel’s waist.
They stood like that for a long time, Angel’s face buried in Spike’s hair, Spike’s face pressed into the hollow of Angel’s neck. He could feel his neck get damp but there was no sound and no movement. He was starting to get worried when Spike suddenly let go and took a step back, head bowed.
“Erm… Spike? Are you all right? Spike?”
“Yes, sir.”
Oh fuck. He reached out and tilted Spike’s head upward. Blank eyes stared up at him. He sighed and stroke his cheek gently. “Why don’t you go lie down, have a little rest?”
“As you wish, sir.” Spike removed the towel, throwing it over the back of the couch before starting to stroke himself slowly. “Will you be joining me soon?”
Oh God. “Not… soon. Perhaps later, all right?”
Blank eyes looked up at him under thick lashes. “Do I not please you, sir? Am I…?” He seemed to falter for a moment before continuing. “Am I doing something wrong, sir?”
“No! There’s nothing wrong.” Except that you’re acting like a whore. And I’m totally getting off on it. “You… please me well enough. I just think you should get some sleep. You seem tired.”
Spike frowned. “If you say so, sir. But my needs do not matter.” He reached out and cupped Angel’s erection, making him shiver. “My only purpose is to please you. Master.”
Angel hitched his breath, he could feel his demon screaming inside. What would it matter? Not like Spike could remember it the next day. No one would have to know. He could make Spike bathe and brush his teeth and…
“It would please me very much if you did as I asked you. Please go in and rest.”
“Very well, sir.”
Spike gave him a last stroke before turning around and walking slowly and seductively into the bedroom, muscles rippling under his smooth pale skin, pausing slightly in the doorway before disappearing inside. As soon as he was out of sight Angel breathed out and sat down heavily on the couch. Sweat was running down his back and he was so hard he thought the thin fabric in his pants would rip from the strain.
He had come so close to losing his resolve. If Spike had insisted, if he had continued his sweet stroking for only a few seconds longer he knew that would have been it. He would have taken him up on his offer, would have made him serve him, would have raped his body, his soul and no one would have been the wiser.
Except him.
Slowly he stood up and walked into the bedroom. Spike was lying on the bed, totally nude, blank eyes staring up at the ceiling. Angel made himself look away and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.
He kept the water cold, working fast and angrily, but however much he tried he couldn’t bring up any other images than those of Spike. Spike naked, Spike stroking him, Spike on his knees, Spike licking his cock, Spike calling him master… His release didn’t even bring him real pleasure just eased the pressure for a while. Until Spike made his next pass probably. He groaned and watched his spilling wash down the drain. His water-bill was so going to rocket.
He opened the door carefully, peeking out to see if Spike was still awake. He was. He contemplated for a minute if he could stay in there for the time it would take Spike to do his usual wilting violet act. Of course last time it had taken some hours…
Damn. He’d better get it over with. Taking a deep breath he swung the door open and stepped outside. “Spike…” He stopped. Where Spike had earlier been lying flat on the bed he was now curled up and shivering. “Spike?”
“Did I… Did I do something wrong?”
His words were so similar to earlier that for a moment Angel stood still, not knowing what the situation was. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong. Spike, are you all right?”
“It hurts.”
He took a step closer. “What does? What hurts?”
“Everything. Everything hurts. What is wrong with me?”
Sighing Angel walked around the bed to the other side and sat down on the edge. “I don’t know. But we’ll work it out, I promise. And we’ll fix it.” He tried to make Spike look at him but he turned his head, hiding in the shadows.
“I could see it, feel it. Your need. And still you didn’t want me. Why? What is wrong with me?” And he finally looked up, eyes still unfocused but filled with confusion, like he wasn’t sure what he was doing there or even who he was.
Oh god.
“Spike… there’s nothing wrong with you. It’s just… You’re not yourself. It’s a spell or hypnosis or… Fuck, I don’t know.”
“You don’t want me.” Spike seemed to curl up in cramp. “I… I’ve disappointed you, my master. Tell me what I can do to make you want me.”
Angel groaned. “Believe me, I want you. More than anything. It just wouldn’t be right.”
“Then have me!” He whimpered, then started to shake violently. “It hurts, sir! Please!”
“Where? Where does it hurt? I don’t understand.”
“Everywhere! It hurts! Oh god.” His eyes suddenly flew open, staring right at him with perfect clarity. “Angel, please!” Then his eyes glazed over again and all they showed was pain.
He wasn’t sure if it was hearing his name that made him lose it but suddenly he was pinning Spike down, kissing him with a brutal need that shocked him. Spike was clinging to him, kissing him back so hard he could taste blood, small whimpers of pain gradually turning into moans of pleasure.
All that was between them was the towel around his waist and it didn’t take long until that was gone, leaving them naked and pressed together. God, he’d missed this. Missed it more than he had realised. Missed him more than he’d ever admit. All those years alone, endless nights filled with dreams and memories that had him shaking with longing and shame and still… it didn’t even come close to actually having him here, in his arms. Kissing him, touching him, looking at him with these big blue eyes that showed… nothing.
Fuck, he couldn’t do this. He tried to pull back but Spike held on to him with surprising strength. “Please, sir. I need to serve you. I’ll do anything you want. Please.”
He tried, he tried to say no, tried to pull away, tried to take the moral high ground. But there were tears and there were trembling fingers and above all there was the broken voice asking him to please, please take away the pain. So he gave up and gave in and prayed to God that he wasn’t giving away his only chance of making things right again.
He wanted to cry when Spike sunk on trembling knees down to take him in his mouth. He wanted to yell at him to smirk or swear or do something Spike-like because that’s who he wanted, not this submissive slave who behaved like a common whore, who waited his command, who seemed to have no free will at all. And he wanted to stake himself for loving every single minute of it.
He tried to convince himself it was just a blowjob, it wouldn’t hurt. But when Spike let his wet cock go and crawled up on the bed, lying down on his back and pulling up his knees, waiting for Angel to take him, he didn’t hesitate, just spit onto his fingers and swiftly prepared him before pushing inside.
God, it was so good! He hadn’t been inside another man for so long he’d forgotten how tight it was. So damn tight and so damn fucking good he knew he wouldn’t be able to last. Spike was gasping, eyes closed, fists clenched and wringing the sheets. Sweat was leaking down from his brow and Angel leaned over to lick it away. “God, Spike. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. And when I finally do…” He closed his eyes, unable to look at the pliant body beneath him. “I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry for doing this to you. So very… very… sorry…Oh god... nnghh!!”
When he finally stopped shuddering he opened his eyes. Spike was staring up at him, eyes wide with shock. “Spike?” Oh god. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I just…” He rolled off and sat up, shoulders slumped, feeling so ashamed he wanted to crawl into a corner and cry. “I can’t believe I did that. I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. I know it’s no excuse. I wish…”
“If you offer to pay me I’ll bloody well rip your fucking balls off.”
Angel blinked and turned around. Spike was still lying on his back but he didn’t look shocked or angry or disgusted. Most of all he looked tired and sad. Hurt. Most of all he looked hurt. “Spike, I would never do that. You’re not a whore. I’m the guilty one here, not you.”
“Yeah, well…” Spike stood up and walked gingerly towards the bathroom. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. I’ve had worse.”
“Spike…”
“Don’t. Just… don’t.”
It wasn’t until he’d locked the door behind him that Angel realised that apart from the emotional effect Spike seemed perfectly fine.
Continued here
Blackout, Chapter 2
They were both silent on the way down, Angel too lost in his confused thoughts to pay much attention to the vampire beside him. The one that wasn’t fidgeting, wasn’t tapping hyper fingers against the wall, wasn’t uttering a single word. He was actually so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the small movement until the elevator abruptly stopped. He looked up just in time to see Spike take his finger off the STOP button, and like in slow motion he watched him turn towards him, fall on his knees and before he knew what was happening his zipper was being pulled down and… Jesus fucking Christ!
“Oh God! Spike! What are you… oh fuck! Jesus!” He leaned back against the wall, wrapping shaking fingers around the railing behind him. Spike’s tongue was doing unimaginable things to him and then he sucked him inside his mouth and…
Angel looked down at the bleached head bobbing in front of him as his wet cock slid in and out between pink lips. “Oh God, Spike…”
Spike looked up and Angel froze. His eyes were completely blank, like there was no one awake behind them. Oh fuck. For a moment he contemplated letting Spike finish but it was a very short moment and it made him feel dirty enough that his erection wilted a bit. Stifling a groan he pushed Spike away and with much difficulty tugged himself in.
Spike was sitting on the floor, watching him with those creepy blank eyes. “Sorry, sir. Something else you want? I can…” His hands moved to unbutton his own pants.
“No! Nothing. Don’t do anything. Just…” He pulled Spike up to his feet and this close the scent of Connor was overwhelming. Mixed with his own arousal it made his stomach turn. “Just stand still. We’ll be there in a moment.”
He reached out with a shaking hand, pushed the button and the cart resumed its descent. The rest of the journey was spent in silence and, for Angel, in great confusion and shame.
Wes was waiting for them in the examination room, his grey face another reminder of Angel’s failure. “There you are. Spike, I heard you’ve been…”
He stopped short as Spike slunk over to him, graceful like a cat, trailed a finger down his chest and was just about to drop to his knees when Angel grabbed his arm and pulled him up again. Spike’s expression didn’t change but Wes looked shocked and, Angel jealously noticed, even a bit disappointed.
“Ah. I see. You didn’t mention…”
“Does it matter?” The growl was harsher than he planned and Wes took a step back.
“No. Of course not. Well…” At the look on Angel’s face he shook his head vigorously. “No, not at all.” He stepped over to Spike and stared into his eyes for a while, then waved his hand in front of the blank face. “Fascinating. Do you know what triggers it?”
“Triggers?” Angel blinked and then blushed. Again. “Why do you think something triggers it? Maybe it just happens. Like… ping.”
“Ping?” Wes noted absentmindedly, too occupied by the specimen in front of him to notice anything odd. “Perhaps. But last time…”
“You knew about that?”
Wes finally looked up. “Well, yes. Everyone knows about that.” The look on Angel’s face made him smile awkwardly. “Or perhaps not. He didn’t tell you? The First controlled him with this quaint little English ditty. My mother used to sing it for me too, actually. Now how did it go? ‘Early one…”
Angel’s hand clasped over his mouth and he panicked, jabbing his elbow into Angel’s ribs.
“Fuck. What the hell are you doing, Wes?”
Wes glared at him. “What the hell are you doing?”
Angel sighed and rubbed his side. “What if you trigger him again? It’s enough to have him all… horny without turning him homicidal as well.”
Now it was Wesley’s time to sigh in his particular I-must-remember-I’m-talking-to-an-idiot way. “They broke that trigger. And I don’t even know if this is the same kind of thing. I was just wondering.”
“Oh.” Maybe he should get Spike to tell him about it all one day. Or just ask someone else since they all seemed to know everything about Spike better than he did. Hiding his confused feelings of guilt and jealousy he looked around in fake interest. “So how about that CAT scan then?”
Wes eyed Spike warily. “Are you sure it’s okay to do it while he’s like that? Since we can’t really explain to him what’s happening maybe he’ll freak?”
“As far as I can tell he’ll be a lot more compliant like this than he would have been as himself.” That brought up such dirty and infuriating images of Spike being pushed and ordered around by strangers that he had to turn away to calm himself. When he turned back Spike was already lying down and then being slid into the tube and he couldn’t help the twist in his gut at seeing him so… obedient. It just looked so wrong.
For the hour it took he paced around in the small room, intimidating the doctors and irritating Wes with his growls and question of ‘Isn’t it done yet?’ every five minutes. Spike’s legs were sticking out of the device and he kept expecting him to start struggling or cursing. The fact that he didn’t was petrifying. There was a small monitor that showed Spike’s face and he found himself staring at it, waiting for it to twitch or grimace or just… anything. It didn’t.
“There’s nothing. He’s absolutely normal.” Wes frowned. “Well, brain wise anyway. Who’d have thought?” He sighed when the small joke didn’t even bring on a hint of a smile. “Right. Better get him out of there then.” He nodded to the doctors to leave them.
Angel hovered over him like a mother hen when the bed slid out of the tube. Spike just got to his feet and then stood patiently while Wes prodded him and poked, then wrote the disappointingly inconclusive results down on his pad. Finally he stood back and sighed.
“Can’t find anything wrong with him, Angel. Mystical came up with nothing so I guess we’re back to the old fashion hypnosis theory.”
“What? You think someone hypnotised him to do those things? Who would do that?”
“Actually what worries me more is that it was possible in the first place. See, the thing is, you can’t hypnotise people to do something against their will.”
“But he’s been…” Angel paused, not willing to give away too much of Spike’s humiliation. “Why would he behave like that. So…”
“Submissive?” Wes looked over at Spike. A sad look of compassion passed over his face. “Maybe he thinks that’s what he deserves. After all, this soul thing is quite new to him and even if you never went this way he might see it as…”
“Who said I didn’t? Over a hundred years alone and broke, living of rodents and dead beggars… even I had my weak moments. Sometimes all you crave is someone to touch you-” Angel abruptly stopped. Why he was telling Wes this he didn’t know. Maybe because for a short moment he felt like he had his old friend and confidant back.
The silence was deafening. Then suddenly Spike crumbled to the floor and the spell was broken. Angel dropped by his side, trying to revive him but he was completely out. Together he and Wes carried him into the next room and lay him down on a hospital bed.
“I’ll check into the hypnosis thing. See how we can break it. If that’s what it is. I’ve never heard of hypnosis rendering such a harsh reaction though but that could actually be his own mind, punishing him for his actions.” Wes patted Angel awkwardly on the arm but he didn’t even notice, just stood staring down at the very pale vampire that seemed to fade against the white sheets. “Angel?”
“What? Yeah. Sure. I’ll…” He looked down at Spike again. “I’m taking him upstairs. Call me.”
“Of course.”
Wes stood back as Angel scooped Spike up and carried him out of the medical department and into the elevator. If the gentle act seemed odd to him he didn’t mention it.
~~~~~~~~~~
The splitting headache was so severe that he wished he’d stayed unconscious. Peering out of half-closed lids he scanned the room and immediately relaxed when he saw Angel sitting in the comfy chair, head fallen to the side, drool dribbling in a tiny string down his chin. Spike couldn’t help smiling even if the small movement made his head ache even worse. Then he remembered why he was lying there and the smile faded away.
He had no recollection of what had happened, any more than usual, but knowing that ‘it’ had happened while he was with Angel made him feel a shame so deep he wanted to sink back into oblivion. Had he offered himself to Angel? Had he behaved like the common whore the evidence seemed to indicate he was? There was no fresh pain but that didn’t mean he hadn’t…
And no matter how much he wanted him, wanted him to want him back, he didn’t want it to happen like that. Like they were just a whore and a john, like it didn’t mean anything. Besides, Angel’s cock up his arse was something he wanted to remember. After all, the memory of it being there had stayed with him for over a hundred years.
“I’m not a pervert!” Angel’s flailing around came to an abrupt stop when he realised where he was. Clearing his throat in embarrassment he wiped the drool off his chin and sat up straight, looking over at Spike. “Oh, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
Spike decided to ignore the pervert thing for more worrying matters. At least for now. “Why? What did I do?” The awkward look on Angel’s face made him groan and he closed his eyes. “You better have paid me decently for it because…”
“Nothing happened. And I wouldn’t pay you anyway.” At the look of annoyance on Spike’s face he added, “Wes on the other hand…”
It felt like a punch in his gut. “No! Angel, I can’t believe it. You fucking told him? I trusted you and you…”
“You kinda dropped to your knees and were about to pull him out when I stopped you.”
Spike suddenly went pale and Angel just managed to put the bucket in place before he vomited over the side of the bed. Afterwards he lay still on his side, eyes closed. His stomach was cramping and he was pretty sure his head would explode.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That wasn’t fair. And I didn’t tell him everything. Just that you were…” Angel paused, “…horny.”
“Great. Why don’t you just put me in a room and sell admittance? Could make a pretty penny whoring me out.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. Then he could hear Angel standing up from the chair.
“I could. God knows there’d be plenty of men, or women for that matter, ready to pay for your pretty mouth and tight ass.” Angel’s voice shivered slightly. “But I rather resent the implication that I’d do such a thing. I’m not Angelus, Spike, no matter how evil you seem to think I am. For what it’s worth you did your best to try to suck me off too and I didn’t let you. And not because I didn’t want you to, believe me I did, but because it would have been wrong. I don’t know what is making you do this but I’m not the bad guy here.”
Spike hitched his breath and opened his eyes in time to see Angel turning away and heading for the door. “Wait!” Angel stopped but he didn’t turn around. His whole body looked tense and angry. Spike sat up, pushing back the nausea. “I’m sorry, all right? I don’t know why I said that. It was stupid. And I know you’re not Angelus. If you were I’d be dead by now.”
When Angel still didn’t look at him he staggered out of the bed and over to him, grabbing his arm to keep himself steady. “Angel… I can’t do this without you.”
Angel turned slowly. His eyes were dark but they weren’t angry. “I’m not going to leave you in a rut just because we had a little spat, Spike. And I can’t really blame you for not trusting me, after all Angelus… I did things even worse than that to you. I haven’t forgotten. Any of it. But things are different now. We are both different now. I would never do that to you. And you would never let me do that to you.”
He turned away again but Spike’s soft voice stopped him. “I would. If you asked me to.”
He stood still, waiting for Angel to start yelling at him again. But instead his head was tilted upwards and he was looking straight into Angel’s eyes. They were like dark pools and the air around them suddenly became heavy. His knees felt weak and he parted his lips, drawing in shallow breaths. He thought he saw a golden flame in Angel’s eyes and then he was pulled tight into Angel’s arms. He forgot everything else as hungry lips claimed his.
Through the buzzing in his ears he felt hands roaming his body, heard sweet words moaned into his mouth, and then he was falling, falling… Suddenly there was a bed underneath him and Angel was hovering over him, such primal need in his eyes that he felt his cock pulsate in anticipation.
“We can’t do this. You’re not well and…” Angel closed his eyes, trying to regain his control.
“I want this. I want you. Bugger it, Angel. Haven’t we waited long enough?”
Angel’s eyes flicked open and he stared down at him. “You’ve been waiting?” He swallowed. “I thought you were just teasing me.”
Spike groaned. “I’m not that cruel. I was just hoping for a sign.” He gasped as Angel ground their erections together. “Think that’s a sign if I ever felt one.”
“Fuck. I want to…” Suddenly Angel rolled off and sat up, hiding his face in his hands. “I can’t do this. Not when you smell like that.”
Spike lay frozen. Then he swallowed. “You think I’m filthy.” He sat up and swung his feet over the side of the bed. “I am. A filthy whore, tainted by their scent.”
“No! Well, yeah I can smell them but it isn’t that.” Angel hesitated, and then looked up. “I can’t because you smell like Connor. My son. You’re wearing his clothes.”
Spike blinked. “Your son? You have a son?” He looked down at the crumpled jeans and sweater. “And I smell like…” His eyes widened and he shivered in disgust. “Oh God, that’s absolutely perverted!”
“Yes, thank you.” Angel gritted his teeth. “We need to get you some other clothes. And a bath. Preferably in chloride.” He stood up and adjusted his pants. “You feel well enough to go to your place?”
“Since I feel well enough to shag I guess I’ll manage that.” He sat up, swallowed and took a deep breath before standing up. He noticed Angel stayed close by, as if ready to catch him. He reached for his leather coat, then paused. “Erm… thing is, I don’t actually have a bath. I do have a shower though but no hot water.”
Angel was staring at him, unconsciously wrinkling his nose. “How have you been keeping clean? Licking yourself?” His stare suddenly went out of focus and Spike rolled his eyes.
“No, you idiot. I’m not a bloody cat. The hot water only got cut off last week, all right? Apparently I’m supposed to pay some bill.” He scowled. “I’m a vampire. Vampires don’t pay bills.”
“I do.”
“Well, yeah. But you don’t count. After all, you’re a nancy-boy vampire.” He smirked.
“Oh yes. Because I’m the one fainting left and right.”
Spike’s face fell. “Yeah, well… I’ll go home and change then. See you later.” He strode toward the door, duster clutched in his hand.
“Spike, wait! Wait! I’m sorry.” Angel grabbed his arm. “Spike! You can’t go alone!”
That stopped him in his tracks but he didn’t turn around. “I’m not a child, Angel. I can take care of myself.”
“No, you can’t. Didn’t we just establish that? What if you have another episode? What if the next time I see you you’re bruised and broken from your newest john?”
Spike flinched and wrenched his arm free but the pleading in Angel’s voice stopped him again.
“What if there is no next time? What if come morning you walk out into the sun because you can’t remember what you are?”
Spike stood still. He closed his eyes, the leather coat creaking as he clenched his fists. “I’d rather die anyway than…”
Angel slammed his palm flat against the door, making Spike jump. “Fuck, Spike. You’d rather dust than allow me to help you? Do you really resent me that much?” So much hurt Spike could smell it in the air.
Spike slumped, the anger draining out of him. He felt too tired, like the decades were catching up with him and he just wanted to lie down and sleep until the end of time. “I don’t… I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… I feel so bloody helpless. Doesn’t matter what I do, I can’t control this. I tried. I locked myself up, I stayed awake for days, I haven’t had a drop to drink since…”
“But you didn’t come to me.”
Forget smell, the taste of hurt was coating his tongue. He shrugged, unwilling to give his thoughts away. “I told you why. Besides, I didn’t think you’d care.”
“You didn’t…? Why? I mean… Will…?”
He swung around, his anger flaring up again. “Don’t! Don’t call me that! You have no right to call me that.”
“Wi… Spike. What is…?” Angel rolled his eyes. “Jesus! We almost fucked five minutes ago. And now I can’t even talk to you?”
“That’s right. Fucked. Just like old times, eh?”
Angel blinked. “What? I thought… you said…” He frowned. “Is this about Sunnydale? Look, I know-”
“No! This isn’t about fucking Sunnydale. You never called me Will in Sunnydale! You haven’t called me Will since…” He stopped, breath heaving.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Angel sat down heavily on the bed. “I didn’t think of that. It was all such a long time ago.”
“One hundred and six years, three months and twelve days. And still it seems like yesterday.”
“Spike…”
“Look, let’s just forget it, all right? I need to get clean. I need…” He closed his eyes, his head was starting to hurt again. “Just drive me home, ok?”
~~~~~~~
They drove in silence. When the car stopped Angel got out of the car as well, ignoring Spike’s glare. He tried to keep his face neutral even if Spike’s place of living made him shiver. The neighbourhood wasn’t exactly Beverly Hills, the house was a clear winner of The Ugliness Awards and the small basement apartment… How anyone could live like that was a mystery to him. Okay, so he had from time to time but…
There were no windows, just bare walls. An old bed, a tattered couch, a small second hand TV. He wandered into the kitchen, pretending he wanted to get a glass of water so he could check the fridge. An old Chinese take-out container. Nothing else. No blood, no beer, nothing. No wonder he looked so thin.
“If you’re hungry there are rats in the hall.” The voice was cold and he turned around, feeling guilty. Spike was standing with a pair of jeans and a t-shirt tucked under his arm, glaring at him. “Can we leave now?”
“You’re not taking anything else?”
Spike gave him a cold stare. “Like what? Look around you, rich boy. This is all I have.”
“Oh.” That seemed to be his response to everything tonight. He thought of the dozens of suits hanging unused in his closet. His selection of shoes which worth alone could probably feed a small village. He closed the fridge, leaving the rotting Chinese food standing alone on the shelf. He felt like he should apologise but the look on Spike’s face told him he better not.
The drive back was even more oppressing. In the elevator on the way up to the penthouse they didn’t look at each other. Angel could feel Spike’s anger like electricity in the air and he wished he could reach out and touch him, tell him… What? That he was sorry? Sorry about the past, sorry about Sunnydale, sorry about how things were between them, sorry about how he had ignored him, sorry that he hadn’t known things were so bad…
He stood by the window, watching the city go to sleep outside, listening once again to Spike showering. He felt a strange kind of sadness. The hurt in Spike’s eyes as he talked about the past…
Every time such thoughts had sneaked up on him he’d suppressed them. He didn’t want to think of the past in any way other than regret and guilt. He’d been evil and so the things he did, the feelings he had, they had to be evil as well. Except that thoughts of Will… they made him feel totally different. But he didn’t deserve those feelings. Didn’t deserve…
“Angel?”
He turned around, expecting another verbal Cold War, but Spike didn’t look angry anymore, just tired. And lost. He was only wearing a towel around his waist, the clothes he’d brought with him hanging limp and wet in his hands.
“Spike?”
“They smell. They still smell. I washed them again and again in the sink but I can still…” The clothes fell from his hand and he shuddered. “Do I… Do I smell? Can you smell them on me?”
Angel walked over to him, his heart aching. “No, Spike. You smell good.” He reached out for him and when Spike didn’t flinch back he pulled him into a hug, inhaling sharply. “You smell of moonlight and leather. You smell of my expensive shampoo and my moisturising soap. You smell wonderful. They’re gone. They’re all gone. Not a trace left of them.”
He buried his face in Spike’s hair and closed his eyes, for a short moment allowing himself to go back to a time and place he hardly ever visited without feelings of such strong self disgust that it overpowered anything else he’d ever felt. Spike’s skin was still warm from the shower and drops of water were trickling slowly down his back from the wet curls on his neck. He suddenly became very aware of the thin towel being the only thing that separated them. Embarrassed he tried to let go but as his hands lifted Spike moved his own up and wrapped his arms hesitantly around Angel’s waist.
They stood like that for a long time, Angel’s face buried in Spike’s hair, Spike’s face pressed into the hollow of Angel’s neck. He could feel his neck get damp but there was no sound and no movement. He was starting to get worried when Spike suddenly let go and took a step back, head bowed.
“Erm… Spike? Are you all right? Spike?”
“Yes, sir.”
Oh fuck. He reached out and tilted Spike’s head upward. Blank eyes stared up at him. He sighed and stroke his cheek gently. “Why don’t you go lie down, have a little rest?”
“As you wish, sir.” Spike removed the towel, throwing it over the back of the couch before starting to stroke himself slowly. “Will you be joining me soon?”
Oh God. “Not… soon. Perhaps later, all right?”
Blank eyes looked up at him under thick lashes. “Do I not please you, sir? Am I…?” He seemed to falter for a moment before continuing. “Am I doing something wrong, sir?”
“No! There’s nothing wrong.” Except that you’re acting like a whore. And I’m totally getting off on it. “You… please me well enough. I just think you should get some sleep. You seem tired.”
Spike frowned. “If you say so, sir. But my needs do not matter.” He reached out and cupped Angel’s erection, making him shiver. “My only purpose is to please you. Master.”
Angel hitched his breath, he could feel his demon screaming inside. What would it matter? Not like Spike could remember it the next day. No one would have to know. He could make Spike bathe and brush his teeth and…
“It would please me very much if you did as I asked you. Please go in and rest.”
“Very well, sir.”
Spike gave him a last stroke before turning around and walking slowly and seductively into the bedroom, muscles rippling under his smooth pale skin, pausing slightly in the doorway before disappearing inside. As soon as he was out of sight Angel breathed out and sat down heavily on the couch. Sweat was running down his back and he was so hard he thought the thin fabric in his pants would rip from the strain.
He had come so close to losing his resolve. If Spike had insisted, if he had continued his sweet stroking for only a few seconds longer he knew that would have been it. He would have taken him up on his offer, would have made him serve him, would have raped his body, his soul and no one would have been the wiser.
Except him.
Slowly he stood up and walked into the bedroom. Spike was lying on the bed, totally nude, blank eyes staring up at the ceiling. Angel made himself look away and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.
He kept the water cold, working fast and angrily, but however much he tried he couldn’t bring up any other images than those of Spike. Spike naked, Spike stroking him, Spike on his knees, Spike licking his cock, Spike calling him master… His release didn’t even bring him real pleasure just eased the pressure for a while. Until Spike made his next pass probably. He groaned and watched his spilling wash down the drain. His water-bill was so going to rocket.
He opened the door carefully, peeking out to see if Spike was still awake. He was. He contemplated for a minute if he could stay in there for the time it would take Spike to do his usual wilting violet act. Of course last time it had taken some hours…
Damn. He’d better get it over with. Taking a deep breath he swung the door open and stepped outside. “Spike…” He stopped. Where Spike had earlier been lying flat on the bed he was now curled up and shivering. “Spike?”
“Did I… Did I do something wrong?”
His words were so similar to earlier that for a moment Angel stood still, not knowing what the situation was. “No. You didn’t do anything wrong. Spike, are you all right?”
“It hurts.”
He took a step closer. “What does? What hurts?”
“Everything. Everything hurts. What is wrong with me?”
Sighing Angel walked around the bed to the other side and sat down on the edge. “I don’t know. But we’ll work it out, I promise. And we’ll fix it.” He tried to make Spike look at him but he turned his head, hiding in the shadows.
“I could see it, feel it. Your need. And still you didn’t want me. Why? What is wrong with me?” And he finally looked up, eyes still unfocused but filled with confusion, like he wasn’t sure what he was doing there or even who he was.
Oh god.
“Spike… there’s nothing wrong with you. It’s just… You’re not yourself. It’s a spell or hypnosis or… Fuck, I don’t know.”
“You don’t want me.” Spike seemed to curl up in cramp. “I… I’ve disappointed you, my master. Tell me what I can do to make you want me.”
Angel groaned. “Believe me, I want you. More than anything. It just wouldn’t be right.”
“Then have me!” He whimpered, then started to shake violently. “It hurts, sir! Please!”
“Where? Where does it hurt? I don’t understand.”
“Everywhere! It hurts! Oh god.” His eyes suddenly flew open, staring right at him with perfect clarity. “Angel, please!” Then his eyes glazed over again and all they showed was pain.
He wasn’t sure if it was hearing his name that made him lose it but suddenly he was pinning Spike down, kissing him with a brutal need that shocked him. Spike was clinging to him, kissing him back so hard he could taste blood, small whimpers of pain gradually turning into moans of pleasure.
All that was between them was the towel around his waist and it didn’t take long until that was gone, leaving them naked and pressed together. God, he’d missed this. Missed it more than he had realised. Missed him more than he’d ever admit. All those years alone, endless nights filled with dreams and memories that had him shaking with longing and shame and still… it didn’t even come close to actually having him here, in his arms. Kissing him, touching him, looking at him with these big blue eyes that showed… nothing.
Fuck, he couldn’t do this. He tried to pull back but Spike held on to him with surprising strength. “Please, sir. I need to serve you. I’ll do anything you want. Please.”
He tried, he tried to say no, tried to pull away, tried to take the moral high ground. But there were tears and there were trembling fingers and above all there was the broken voice asking him to please, please take away the pain. So he gave up and gave in and prayed to God that he wasn’t giving away his only chance of making things right again.
He wanted to cry when Spike sunk on trembling knees down to take him in his mouth. He wanted to yell at him to smirk or swear or do something Spike-like because that’s who he wanted, not this submissive slave who behaved like a common whore, who waited his command, who seemed to have no free will at all. And he wanted to stake himself for loving every single minute of it.
He tried to convince himself it was just a blowjob, it wouldn’t hurt. But when Spike let his wet cock go and crawled up on the bed, lying down on his back and pulling up his knees, waiting for Angel to take him, he didn’t hesitate, just spit onto his fingers and swiftly prepared him before pushing inside.
God, it was so good! He hadn’t been inside another man for so long he’d forgotten how tight it was. So damn tight and so damn fucking good he knew he wouldn’t be able to last. Spike was gasping, eyes closed, fists clenched and wringing the sheets. Sweat was leaking down from his brow and Angel leaned over to lick it away. “God, Spike. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this. And when I finally do…” He closed his eyes, unable to look at the pliant body beneath him. “I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry for doing this to you. So very… very… sorry…Oh god... nnghh!!”
When he finally stopped shuddering he opened his eyes. Spike was staring up at him, eyes wide with shock. “Spike?” Oh god. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I just…” He rolled off and sat up, shoulders slumped, feeling so ashamed he wanted to crawl into a corner and cry. “I can’t believe I did that. I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. I know it’s no excuse. I wish…”
“If you offer to pay me I’ll bloody well rip your fucking balls off.”
Angel blinked and turned around. Spike was still lying on his back but he didn’t look shocked or angry or disgusted. Most of all he looked tired and sad. Hurt. Most of all he looked hurt. “Spike, I would never do that. You’re not a whore. I’m the guilty one here, not you.”
“Yeah, well…” Spike stood up and walked gingerly towards the bathroom. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. I’ve had worse.”
“Spike…”
“Don’t. Just… don’t.”
It wasn’t until he’d locked the door behind him that Angel realised that apart from the emotional effect Spike seemed perfectly fine.
Continued here