Spike woke in the night, running a tongue over now healed lips, glad for vampire healing. It took him a moment longer to work out where he was and as the evening's events revealed themselves to the disorientated vampire, he heard the snoring.
Spike wasn't exactly averse to sharing his bed, but he was more than surprised to find Angel snuggled behind him, a smile on his sleeping face, looking for all the world as if there was nowhere else he'd rather be. 'What the fu-?' fell out of the blond vampire's mouth before he had the sense to quiet, taking the opportunity to give Angel the once over.
Frown lines were etched across his brow, not a sign of aging, Spike realised, before glancing briefly to his mouth, seeing that the little lines that showed in his grin were long gone. Man doesn't laugh enough he thought to himself, before Angel stirred slightly, one hand groping in the dark for something he hadn't had in months. Spike paused a second before lying back down. He and Angel weren't exactly best mates these days and he had no idea how the Irishman would react to finding his long lost childe sleeping in his arms again. But the desire to stay in the arms he hadn't slept in forso long was overwhelming.
Spike lay down and looked up at the ceiling, running over his (few) options in his head. He was to all intents and purposes, a child again, unable to find or rather unable to take nourishment. He couldn't bite anyone. He'd tried, he'd really tried, but the pain in his head was so intense that he couldn't bite down. It paralyzed him and he couldn't feed. The first time he'd tried, he'd fallen at his 'victim's' feet, unable to complete the act. The second time had been with Willow, but even that had turned out bad, she'd been so bloody nice about it. Ewww, he was having impotent thoughts and he didn't even want to test that out. He'd already been Kubriked, he didn't want to throw up at the sight of a bit of leg. He had to face the truth. He was a sap, a big fluffy puppy with bad teeth.
Spike really wished he hadn't thought about that.
So he couldn't attack people, which sucked, ha ha ha, big time. He couldn't bite people, which was really his raison d'etre, all vampires bit. Even hack writers had got that one right. He could, it seemed, drink blood, provided there hadn't been any violence involved getting it, violence on his part anyway. Which left him where, precisely? He could hardly walk up to someone and say, 'excuse me, but I'd really like to drink your blood. Could you oblige?'
Nope, Spike didn't say please to anyone.
So that wasn't going to work.
He guessed that he'd have to do things Angel's way, at least until he could get rid of this thing they'd done to him, drink pigs' blood, or whatever it was. It didn't taste so bad and at least it wasn't accompanied by that pain that threatened to paralyze him. He groaned and Angel shifted slightly, his arm tightening, drawing Spike closer to his chest. The thing was, Spike loved the violence that went with feeding. He was a hunter, had been one for as long as he could remember, which was a long time. He might look as though he was two blood bags short of a full transfusion, but Spike was no ones fool, despite his best plans going awry all over the place. The best laid plans of mice and men, he murmured to himself, add vampires to that list and you would have been right, Burns.
So, he could drink pigs' blood, the gaining of which was a question for later. Fixed with the barmy notion of swapping blood bank addresses with his sire, Spike shook his head, trying to deny what he had become, wondering how on Earth he could change back. He hadn't asked for any of this. He'd been a good vampire, doing his level best to keep chaos and corruption on the up. He'd killed Slayers for Christ's sake. He was hardly a nobody in the vampire world. He had a name. He was William the Bloody. He was reduced to drinking from plastic bags in LA. Who was going to be afraid of him now?
Unlife could surely not get worse.
Angel snored loudly in his ear and snuffled back into consciousness.
'What?' said Spike huffily. His account of his existence was annoying him and when Spike got pissed off, everybody felt it.
'We're in bed.'
Spike snorted and rolled over to look at the dazed and slightly confused vampire.
'Yes Peaches. I can't remember going to sleep like this, I just remember feeding from one of your bags and then this. Waking up next to you.'
Angel sat up slightly, running one hand through hair that was suffering from the bed. He looked slightly askew and Spike grinned, knowing that his sire's vanity had survived the loss of his soul. Angel hadn't removed his hand from his childe's shoulder and Spike took it as a sign that he wasn't going to have to watch out for the axe just yet.
'I remember you falling inside the door.'
'Yes,' said Spike, his tone cajoling, 'We went there, remember, I was hungry and you fed me.'
'That's right, you were hungry.'
Spike rolled his eyes and lay back, both hands behind his head. Angel sniffed and frowned, turning to look at the delicate features of his childe. Spike had always been insolent, but he was surprised it still featured when he was lying in the bed of a man he'd tried to kill on a regular basis for the last few years.
'You smell bad.'
'I smell like I've been living rough, big deal.'
'Shower. I'll try and figure out what the Hell's been going on since yesterday and work out what to do.'
He got up slowly from the bed and touched his hair again, feeling the unevenness and groaning. Spike let out a chuckle and Angel whirled on him, prepared to morph into game face. Spike held his hands up and got up out of bed, grin still firmly in place.
'Don't fret Peaches, you can fix your hair whilst I shower.' He slid his coat off and dumped it on the chair, before raising a wink to Angel. 'You can come and watch if you like.'
That did it.
'Shower Spike. We'll talk later.'
Spike chuckled and moved into the bathroom, shedding clothes along the way. No one could ever accuse him of being a neat freak. He guessed that Angel would pick them all up - his fastidiousness was legendary. As he climbed into the shower and wondered how he was going to turn it on, Angel's big hand reached round and flicked the switch. Jumping slightly, Spike turned to look at his sire, who sported a decidedly familiar grin before leaving the room.
'Bloody hell,' he muttered as the vampire left, wondering if Angel knew what effect that smile had on him. The water cascaded down on his head and he stepped back briefly as it heated up. It felt good to have such warmth on his skin. He craved it now, this long forgotten heat that enveloped his body. He thought about Angel and how he had made love to the Slayer. What had that been like, feeling that warmth around the coldness of the corpse he inhabited.
How could he have compared to that tasty bit of flesh?
Sighing, he reached for the soap and washed himself, realizing with a groan that he was going to end up smelling like the poof after all this. Time for a bit of Sid.
Angel stood in the bedroom, picking up the clothes Spike had dropped. He lifted them to his nose and pulled a face, wondering when he'd last washed any of them. Angel reached into the armoire and pulled out a shirt and a pair of jeans, knowing and not wanting to know that the jeans would be too big. He pulled out a vest and a pair of socks before pausing at his boxers. The dark vampire wasn't sure what would be more disturbing - Spike wearing his boxers, or Spike wearing his jeans without boxers.
There was a certain stirring in his own pants and he immediately turned his thoughts to Byron, questioning if the man had ever truly suspected he knew a vampire, or if it was just the drugs kicking in. Nope, Byron had been pretty cute, and that wasn't helping. Okaybad things to think about - soul; regret; penanceokay, yeah that was working. No lust present now.
Oh dear, Spike was singing.
'I am an antichrist I am an anarchist don't know what I want but I know how to get it I wanna destroy the passer-by 'cause I wanna be anarchy no dogs body anarchy for the UK'
Angel shook his head, he'd never been a fan of punk, he'd barely been able to listen to it, but Spike seemed to have relished the rebellion, loving the up-yours sign to the establishment in Britain. He's always rebelled, always been something other than the average, and Angel had enjoyed it. They had been friends as well as lovers back in those days. Okay, stirring in his boxers again, not good. Not helpful. They had killed, (that helped!) and fed off as many humans as they could, Spike growing pleasantly plump and Angel feeling slightly bloated. If it had been Spike's choice, they'd pick off some rich bint or some stupid aristocratic fop, the younger vampire venting some deep resentment on the upper class.
'I thought it was the UK or just another country another council tenancy I wanna be anarchy I wanna be anarchy oh what a name I wanna be anarchy know what I mean? and I wanna be an anarchist get pissed destroy!'
Angel threw the clothes into the laundry basket and carried the clean ones to the bathroom, the door pulled closed as he'd exited. Spike was in there, washing. Yes, you know that, he murmured to himself, why are you even bothered by it? He's only here until you find out what the problem is and work out what to do about it. But he's naked and soapy and okay, definite problem here! I'm just going to leave his clothes outside and walk away. Right, that's the right thing to do, just leave him alone and fix us both something to eat. And I'm walking awaynow.
He opened the door.
Spike blissfully sang his way through the bubbles, shampoo mixed in to his hair and plastering its platinum mass to his forehead. Soap did indeed run the whole way down his body, making interesting parts of his body appear and disappear as it slid its way to the floor. He stood under the cascading water in total comfort, feeling happier than he had in weeks. He wasn't as bothered by the simple pleasure of washing as his sire, but he couldn't deny its luxury after days of discomfort and pain. He swayed pleasantly, letting it reach every part of his body and decided that when he'd sorted all this out, he'd get a shower and a bloody great bath, something that he could fit loads of people in, start having some bloody fun again.
Angel was not having fun. He stood in the doorway with his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he struggled to swallow the drool Spike elicited. He'd never seen any man take a shower and he didn't know how damn erotic it could be. His childe, standing there, water washing over him and that soaphe felt faint. His cock had sprung to attention and no amount of persuasion was going to get that to lie down. Not when he could see the vampire in front of him, pale flesh glistening as he got clean. It's a good job I can't lose my soul just for thoughts, Angel thought, the demon would be back on the spot.
Spike finally sensed the presence in the room and opened his eyes, only to see Angel standing in front of him like some naughty schoolboy. It was obvious from his very expression that he was hard, painfully hard by the look of his pants and Spike grinned, pleased that the effect was mutual. His balls started to throb and he cast a glance wickedly at the soap, wondering if Angel was up to a joint shower yet. It was worth a go.
He was about to ask when the phone rang.
Angel started at the sound, so lost was he in his fantasy. He cast one more look at Spike, then fled the room, dropping the clothes on the towel rack, racing away from his desire and toward the phone. He picked it up quickly, wondering who it was before his mind kicked in and reminded him of the call he'd been so nervous about last night.
'Yeah, speaking.' He said, hoping the lust was absent from his voice. The voice on the other end was slightly tearful.
'Oh. Right? Is everything all right?'
'Oh Angel, it's terrible, I don't know how to tell you this.'
Angel drew in a breath he didn't need, listening to Cordelia cry on the other end of line in Sunnydale. Spike stepped out of the bathroom, a towel casually slung around his waist. He caught the pained expression on Angel's face and walked over, unthinking and laid a hand on his sire's shoulder. Angel felt it and touched his fingers to the oddly comforting hand.
'Some demon's taken over Doyle.'
Angel blinked, unable to take in what the young girl was saying. He unconsciously rubbed Spike's fingers as he tried to figure it out.
'Tell me what's going on?'
Cordelia sobbed some more and Angel stared at the phone, willing it to explain the problem. There was some mumbled conversation and he struggled to pick up words, but he heard 'Doyle' and 'Spiky face' and 'vengeance spirit' and tried hard to put the words together. Cordelia was getting increasingly upset by the whole thing, her wailing getting louder and more piercing in his ear.
'Cordelia, stop a moment, take a deep breath.'
He heard more sobs and then a snuffly sound, which he took to mean she was trying. After a few of these, there was no wild sobbing and he thought it safe to talk.
'Cordelia, did I hear you right? You said that Doyle has been possessed by a "spiky faced demon"?'
'Yes! That's what I've been telling you!'
Angel laughed and turned round, his eyes meeting Spike's. The blond vampire was still dripping from the shower, his hand removed from Angel's shoulder and a wry look on his face. Angel focussed on the water that slid down his forehead and dripped down the side of his face, gathering on his chin in a plump droplet. He couldn't take his eyes off it and when it dropped, he followed its path down the vampire's chest and down to the towelthat covered his...
'Angel? What are you laughing at? I'm here talking about some demon that's taken over Doyle and you're laughing like a loon! What is with you?'
Gulping and shaking his head, Angel looked away quickly, but not before he caught the grin on Spike's face. Damn Spike, damn him for being so damnably, bloody irresistible. No, I'm not thinking like this. I'm not. I'm not thinking for one second about Spike, or his body or taking him right here and... No! No! No! I'm not going there! Listen to Cordelia. Tell her the truth. About Spike? No! Tell her about Doyle, stop her trying to get Buffy to kill him. Right, sorted it out. Then why is your body shaking? And why is your cock...
'Cordelia,' he said before he lost all control, 'did Doyle try and tell you something when you went to Sunnydale?'
'Well yeah, he told me that we had to warn Buffy and help her, again! I mean, didn't I do enough for her when I dated that loser Xander? Don't my needs ever get talked about?'
'Anything about him being a demon?'
There was a pause and Angel heard Spike's throaty chuckle as he listened to the conversation. He heard the vampire leave the room and head for the bathroom, presumably to pick up the clothes that Angel had dropped there earlier. He quashed the voice in his head that yelled 'Shame!' and tried to calm the girl on the other end of the line.
'He's a demon? And you knew? What do we do about this?'
Angel smiled gently and stopped as Spike moaned loudly at the ill-fitting jeans.
'Angel? Is someone there with you?'
'Hmmm? No, I have theer TV on.'
'Oh. So Doyle's a demon? And you seem okay about this?'
There were more expletives coming from the bathroom and Angel turned his back, desperate to try and erase the image of a half-dressed Spike that hung at the forefront of his mind.
'Look Cordelia, I'm gonna have to go, something's come up here, but Doyle's a half demon, he's one of the good guys, believe me. Nothing nasty that we have to charge for, okay? Just give him a chance, ask him about it. He'll tell you. I have to go now.'
'Angel? Don't you want to know about Buffy?'
Spike stepped out of the bathroom and put his hands on his hipswhich were bare - Angel's jeans hanging down so far that fluffy dark hair was visible. They were too long as well, hanging down under his feet giving him a child-like effect, making him look awfully cute. Angel followed his gaze up Spike's body, watching as the impatient vampire pulled the vest over his head and wondered if his jeans were so loose, how were they staying up at all. He dropped his eye line back to Spike's hips and let out a barely audible gasp as he saw the tell-tale bulge in his jeans.
Spike looked at him and saw the almost desperate look on his sire's face, the deep need which burned there and that Angel struggled to deny. Rubbing his tongue inside his lip he slowly turned around, giving Angel a twirl, wondering if the other vampire would manage to control his lust, or if Spike was going to have a far better night than he'd envisaged. Angel watched with a barely controlled hunger and when he saw the peak of the tattoo on Spike's left cheek, he closed his eyes and remembered the day he'd had it put there.
The Slayer was the furthest thing from his mind right now, but he forced himself back to the present and spoke in what he hoped was a decisive voice to Cordelia. Strange to think that in the evening he'd been aching for news of her, and now, she was just an instrument between him and that beautiful flesh on the opposite side of the room.
'Is she okay?'
'Well yeah, Doyle spiked out and they killed all these Indian things, oh and a bear.'
'She's fine then?'
'Yeahboy Angel, for a guy who was so "I can't be around her because I care too much", you don't sound interested at all!'
'I'm not' almost fell out of his mouth before he bit down.
'I'm just... I have to go Cordelia. I'll talk to you when you come back.'
He put the phone down before he let slip anything else. That would look good wouldn't it? Hi Cordelia, yes I know that yesterday I was all wound up in Buffy and worrying about her, but that was before Spike came back. And he wasn't trying to kill me, but Dear God, if I don't manage to stop thinking about fucking him, I may just go crazy.
Yeah, that would go down really well.
Spike started laughing.
'You know mate, if you don't start loosening up, you might as well be dead.'
'We are dead, Spike.' He said flatly, hoping his voice wasn't the adolescent squeak he felt like.
The blond rolled his eyes and lifted up the shirt Angel had given him, sliding it onto his shoulders and wondering if he'd be able to get his own clothes washed and cleaned soon. It was one thing arousing the boss by flashing a bit of the old skin, it was another falling over your own pants. He bent down to slide the socks on, growling as the jeans slid down his thighs.
'Oh I can't wear these!'
He stood up and pulled the jeans down and off, not hearing the silent moan that came from Angel's lips. He sat back down and pulled the other sock on, unmindful of the cock that slapped happily against his belly. Angel stood up quickly and walked into the bedroom, returning with a pair of his silk boxers.
'Put these on. I'll get your clothes laundered.'
'Thanks Love,' said Spike with a grin, 'you always did know how to take care of a man.'
Ignoring the deliberate innuendo, Angel put the mugs in the microwave and clicked on the timer. He wasn't going to think like this. Okay, he had Spike semi-dressed now and everything covered up, no danger there, yeah, right, keep telling yourself that and the hard pounding in your pants will go away too.
Angel took both mugs out and passed one to Spike, sitting down at his broad kitchen table. He decided that he'd better find out what the deal was before he slipped up and shagged the man. Oh no! Shag the man? That was pure Spike, he needed to sort this out now!
'So,' he said, taking his first sip, 'How come you've not been feeding?'
Spike slurped a big mouthful back and turned, game face in full play and a blood moustache coating his lip. Angel found it oddly endearing.
'The bastards that zapped me, they put something in my head.'
'I don't know! If I knew do you think I'd be here, begging for,' he paused and looked at the mug, 'pig's blood?'
'Guess not.' Said Angel, trying to bite down on the smile that threatened - Spike looked so damn horny when he was angry. Any minute now he'd get up and pace the room wearing Angel's boxers. Oh please?
'So you can't bite?'
Spike got up and started to pace. Yes, thought Angel happily, watching as the silk clung to his childe's thighs. Spike took another drink and spat out every vile thing that had been done to him.
'I can't bite, I can't even kill someone! It's so bloody annoying. I went to that stupid cow Harmony and she wouldn't even give me someone to eat.'
'Harmony? Cordelia's friend?'
'She got turned mate, where have you been?'
Angel shrugged and gestured to Spike to go on. Man he looked good, that blood was flushing his cheeks. I bet it's warm inside, a voice whispered in Angel's head. I bet that you could slide inside him and it would be so warm right now.
'Shut up.' he said, before realizing that he's said it aloud.
Spike blinked at him.
Angel shook his head, 'Go on, I was just thinking about something.'
I bet you were, Spike thought to himself and grinned a little.
'So I figured the Slayer had gone all high tech and I went to find her and give her a little pay back.'
'And what?' asked Angel. For some strange reason, he wasn't bothered in the slightest by Spike's last remark. Maybe it was because he'd evidently not managed to get to Buffy, maybe it was for some other reason.
'She wasn't in her room. The little red head was.'
'Yeah, her. I didn't hurt her, don't look at me like that!'
'I'm not looking at you like anything.'
'You are, you've got that self-righteous look on! Well, keep your pants on Precious, I didn't hurt her, couldn't even rough her up too much.'
'It's this bloody thing!' Spike exclaimed and thumped his head. 'Everytime I go arrgh!' he said, demonstrating his biting technique, 'I get this pain and I can't do anything.'
'It's not bloody funny!'
Angel looked up at his indignant childe.
'No? The Big Bad unable to bite? Sounds like the piggies got you.'
'Big Bad Wolf, the three little pigs, never mind.'
Angel leaned back and grinned.
'So what happened? You came to me because?'
Spike looked at him, his blue eyes suddenly sad. It was such a rare sight and it expressed everything that Angel could ask. He had come because Angel was home. And home is the place that, when you have to go there, they have to take you in. He'd heard someone say that once, a little humanity in his vampiric life. But it didn't make it any less true. His instinct to survive had brought him to Angel and Angel had taken him in.
So what now?
Angel sighed and drunk the last of the blood.
'You're harmless then?'
'Well aside from my biting wit, yeah. I can't do it mate.'
He sat down, defeated.
Angel looked at his childe, biting on his lip in a nervous act few saw him do. He couldn't admit, even to himself, how good it felt to have Spike here alone with him. Half his mind was busy working out where he could strip the vampire naked and make love to him, the other half just wanted to take his slender frame in his arms and comfort him. Had it always been this way between them?
He could remember wanting to punish Spike when he had lost his soul. Wanted to take out all his anger at the humanity the Slayer had made him feel. The blond vampire had always managed to retain more of his personality than any other. He was almost human in his affections and Angelus had hated that after nearly a century of suppression. Whatever they had meant to each other once, the soulless creature that lorded his body had been determined never to feel again. He had wanted to hurt and hate and despise. Angelus had only taken Dru because he had known how much Spike would suffer. Anything but human, his demon had demanded, anything but affection.
Spike wasn't like that.
Angel wasn't like that.
He stood up and moved to the other side of the table, laying both his hands on Spike's shoulders. Spike leaned forward at first, trying to pull away from the comfort offered, but it was too hard to reject. He missed this too much and as he leaned back, both vampires let out something between a sigh and a growl. Angel smiled at the acceptance, glad that he could offer solace. A vague plan began to form in his mind.
'You can stay here, with me, until you get sorted, that is.'
Spike smiled silently, then remembered to whom he was talking.
'What? Stay here with you and angst all day? I may be a little...'
'INCAPABLE, right now! But I'm still a vampire, I'm not fighting for the good of humanity or anything sappy like that.'
'I didn't offer you a job.' Said Angel, amused, 'I said you could stayuntil you'd figured out where to go. Which is, incidentally, anywhere but Sunnydale.'
Spike turned and looked up at him.
'What? You mean I could be your live in...'
'You can stay, or not, Spike!' Angel added quickly. 'It's up to you. And anyway, I like what I do.' He sniffed.
'Oooooh!' Spike whistled, 'Sorry, your lordship, I'd forgotten how into Batman you were.' He dropped his voice to mock Angel's. 'Whenever there is trouble, I'll be there. Wherever people have lost hope, I will provide it, because I'm sooo keen on wearing black and poncing about, whilst girlies fall over thinking I'm sooo pretty.'
Angel simply raised an eyebrow.
Spike grinned, 'Yeah, but it's true.'
'It is not.' Said Angel, dimly aware that Spike was flirting with him.
'It bloody is. You love it when they bat their eyelashes at you and if it wasn't for that bloody curse of yours you'd be lapping it up, shagging every one that offered a firm thigh and a promise of breakfast.'
Angel began to walk away.
'I don't have to listen to this.'
'Why not? It's true. You're so desperate for a shag that you're permanently hard! Tell me you're not.'
Angel growled slightly and moved toward his bedroom, determined to get away.
'Dammit Angel, why do you always have to be such a wanker?'
Angel whirled round, angrier than he'd been in a while and ready to snap. But Spike didn't look as if was just provoking now, he looked genuinely concerned. He looked bothered that Angel lived in a constant state of unfulfilled desire.
Man did Angel look horny when he was angry, thought Spike. Everything was tensed and pumped andoh I want to know if his cock is as hard as mine. I wonder if we could do something without his bloody curse getting in the way. And that was a surprise. He didn't want Angelus back, his long time lover and fellow fiend of the night. He wanted to ease Angel's suffering. He wanted this version of the dark vampire, silly brooding feelings and all.
The sad look which now fell over Angel's face hit Spike deeply. He wanted to take the pain away. He sighed.
'Come on Soul Boy, let's go do something fun. Hell, I might even be up to helping you keep up your Batman image.'
'I'm not trying to be Batman.'
'Yeah, right Bruce, come on. I'll buy you a drink.'
Angel looked pointedly at Spike's lack of pants.
'Despite this being LA, I think you're going to have to put some pants on.'
'Fine!' exclaimed Spike. He picked up the jeans he'd dropped earlier and pulled them on, the waist still too wide. He picked up his won belt and threaded it through, grumbling as they felt too loose and baggy. Angel bent down and rolled up the hem, a shudder of pleasure crossing his face as his fingers brushed against Spike's ankle. How could he have forgotten the pleasures of touching this man? How could he ever have convinced himself, even as Angelus, that hurting Spike was more fun?
He stood up and looked at his watch - two in the morning. A drink sounded good. He could always drown his sorrows that way. Worked as well as any other method he'd come up with.
'Come on then.'
'You buying the drinks then?'
'I thought you offered to buy me one?'
'Left my wallet in my other pants.'