The Space Between: Part IV
Jan. 19th, 2007 11:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sevendeadlyfunPairing: Spike/Angel
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Plain old gay vampire sex
A/N: Part of this was inspired bytamibrandt 's wonderful Spangel video, "My Immortal". So, credit where credit is due. It's a lovely vid and if you haven't watched it, well, what are you waiting for?
The voice was soft, soothing. It called forth bittersweet memories of long days spent in warm nests, soft languid kisses from lips perfectly made for worship, bright blue eyes shining with love. If someone asked Angel to define Spike, he would hedge and flounder. He knew so little about the peroxided vampire, and the little he did know he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. But, if asked to define William, Angel could answer with perfect certainty that William was love.
The voice was silent now, but there were firm hands caressing Angel and he gave himself over to the sensuous touches. The comfortable warmth and sweeping strokes fit in so neatly with his own thoughts that he allowed his mind to wander. Darla wanted him, Drusilla needed him, but only William loved him. It had been strange, he reflected, to be loved. As he looked back, the clarity of distance showed him that he had never really been loved. His father, his sisters, all the women he’d pleasured in dark bed and alleyways, Buffy, none of them had loved him. They had wanted him, needed him, adored or despised him in turn, but nothing from any of them truly resembled love.
There had been lustful touches or worshipful glances, screaming rage or moaning desire, depending on the person and the time. But all of that had required something of him or from him. Even his friends, Wesley and Cordelia, only offered conditional approval. They would stand by him, provided he lived on their terms, by their rules. Any slip, any sign of his demonic self, and friendship turned to enmity.
But with William, it had been different. Angel knew that he only need exist and that was enough for William. The boy accepted kisses and blows with equal grace. So long as his Sire was there, nothing else mattered to William. Rationally, Angel knew that part of that was due to the blood they shared. William’s demon, born from his own, craved close contact and intimacy. Rather like human infants, fledging demons needed their makers. Nevertheless, there had been love. At least, on William’s part. Angelus loved nothing, not even himself. Angelus could only offer the echoing howl of the tomb, and that was precisely what he had offered to everyone he came across. Death, artistic and elegant death, given with an exquisitely beautiful smile.
Angel loved William. He could admit that he missed the boy, his sweet shy smile and disheveled curls, his unabashed love for his Sire. The only time he’d ever been loved and it had taken him a hundred years to appreciate it. Angel laughed softly, knowing that Cordelia had been right. He was slow. Too slow and too late, for William was long gone. Only Spike remained. He wouldn’t save William with this foolish act of bravado, but Spike. However, he spoke no less than the truth to Wes and Cordelia. Spike was his Childe. Time had changed them both, despite Spike’s fervent denials otherwise. Angelus and his William didn’t exist anymore. Their passing had left Angel and Spike, and no matter what, Angel wouldn’t shame their blood and bond. He would save Spike. Now, if he could just figure out why he kept landing in lace…
“Sire?”
That husky voice, so familiar and so welcome, drew Angel quickly from his own meandering mind and he once again opened his eyes. It was the same face, every detail exactly the same as it had been the last time they’d been in the same bed. The lovely face unmarred, no scar yet. Angel half-wondered if that night had sounded William’s death knell or if he had killed him when he left the first time. Either his own abandonment or the death of that Slayer in China had smothered the life out of William and heralded the arrival of Spike. It didn’t much matter, he figured. In any case, it had been all his fault.
Angel stared, trying to engrave the sight of his Childe in his mind. He would never see this sight again, except in his own mind and he wanted to remember it. The blue blue eyes looked down on him with affection and something remarkably like pity.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I love you so much and I’m sorry…” Angel murmured brokenly, feeling a tear trail down his face.
William leaned down, his pink tongue sneaking out to follow the tear track upwards. He pressed a soothing kiss to Angel’s forehead and hushed him. Lying on top of Angel, William brought their mouths together, the kisses a benediction for Angel’s soul. Busy hands divested Angel of his clothing, quickly and smoothly, with no break in the wonderful drugging kisses.
Skin met skin and Angel moaned into William’s mouth. It had been so long since they’d been together like this. No anger, no pain, no grudges, just two lovers entwined and peaceful. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed the feeling of this strong masculine body pressed against him.
Angel tore himself away from William’s lips and panted harshly. He had so much he wanted to say, so much to make amends for. William’s singularly wise eyes met his and a slim white finger pressed against his mouth, stopping his words. He tried again, and William sighed heavily.
Angel gave up thinking about words when William slithered down his body and slurped around his swollen knob. That talented tongue swirled underneath his foreskin, drawing intricate patterns and shapes on his tight flesh. Angel pushed his upwards slightly, body restless and aching. Over the years, he’d had other lovers. The Furies, Buffy, Drusilla, hell, he’d even fucked Spike after he lost his soul. But this was his boy, infinitely inventive and incredibly knowledgeable about every square inch of his Sire’s body. Angel stared at the honeyed curls, the sight of his Childe working his cock ratcheting up his pleasure.
“Yeah, he’s beautiful down there, ain’t he, luv? Sweet, pliable, and oh so willing,” a cocky voice whispered in his ear. “He’ll do anything, be anyone for you. Bet that really sparks you, don’t it? Knowing you have all the power.”
Angel turned his head to see Spike crouched by the bed. His hair shone almost white in the gaslight, standing up in stiff peaks. His eyes, rimmed in black, glittered with malice. He leaned in closer and the chains around his neck jingled musically. Angel met Spike’s gaze, his own eyes soft with desire. William never stopped teasing Angel’s cock, indeed didn’t even seem aware of Spike’s presence.
“I always wondered how much you remembered, Angel. You played a good game, blathering on ‘bout how I disgust you. Guess the truth will out, eh? That soul o’yours doesn’t stop you from wanting it, does it? His mouth, his arse, his surrender. You want all of it, crave it. It’s your drug of choice, power,” Spike’s mouth hovered inches away from Angel’s lip, the cool breath raising bumps on Angel’s sensitive skin.
His body tensed as William pulled him all the way down, using his strong throat muscles to swallow Angel’s cock. The intense suction and the sight of Spike combined to drag a near-scream from Angel’s throat. He arched up and William pulled back, returning to kittenish laps and licks.
“Gonna cum for him, pet? Or are you saving that luscious stonker for later? Bend him over, give him a good pounding, right? Pour all that lust and anger and hate into his backside. Use him and lose him and he’ll come crawling back for more. That’s his drug o’choice. Wants your approval, your love. Knows he can never have it and that makes him crave it all the more, “ Spike leaned in even closer, the sound of his leather duster complimenting the moist smacking sounds the permeated the room. He was so close now that their lips touched and Angel quivered.
“What…ah…about you, Spike? What’s your…ugh…drug of choice,” Angel demand, voice harsh and raspy.
“Ah-ah, pet. That would be telling and I don’t aim to give you any advantages here. ‘S my game we’re playing, innit? My head, my rules. I know what you want, Angel. Know where you live now. Can practically taste it. You want him, “ Spike inclined his head sideways towards the curled figured of William. “You can have him, o’course. He’s always been yours. But you gotta take me in the bargain and I figure I’m owed a bit.”
William removed his mouth from Angel’s cock and stared at the two figures. He crawled up Angel’s body, straddling his hips and rubbing their erections together. He bent forward and in a swift striking motion, captured Spike’s lips. The two halves of Spike kissed, tender and ferocious, lips and tongues tangling in mutual love and desire. The sight of these two ravishing men together, mouths battling and claiming, drove Angel over the edge and he shuddered, shooting jets of cool semen onto his belly and chest. To his surprise, Spike broke off the kiss and swept his tongue through the puddles of semen.
Glancing up, Spike smirked, “Told you, ponce. This is my game, so we play it my way. Now, if you’ve finished molesting poor William here, what’s say we get down to business?”
TBC
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Plain old gay vampire sex
A/N: Part of this was inspired by
tamibrandt 's wonderful Spangel video, "My Immortal". So, credit where credit is due. It's a lovely vid and if you haven't watched it, well, what are you waiting for?The voice was soft, soothing. It called forth bittersweet memories of long days spent in warm nests, soft languid kisses from lips perfectly made for worship, bright blue eyes shining with love. If someone asked Angel to define Spike, he would hedge and flounder. He knew so little about the peroxided vampire, and the little he did know he wasn’t entirely comfortable with. But, if asked to define William, Angel could answer with perfect certainty that William was love.
The voice was silent now, but there were firm hands caressing Angel and he gave himself over to the sensuous touches. The comfortable warmth and sweeping strokes fit in so neatly with his own thoughts that he allowed his mind to wander. Darla wanted him, Drusilla needed him, but only William loved him. It had been strange, he reflected, to be loved. As he looked back, the clarity of distance showed him that he had never really been loved. His father, his sisters, all the women he’d pleasured in dark bed and alleyways, Buffy, none of them had loved him. They had wanted him, needed him, adored or despised him in turn, but nothing from any of them truly resembled love.
There had been lustful touches or worshipful glances, screaming rage or moaning desire, depending on the person and the time. But all of that had required something of him or from him. Even his friends, Wesley and Cordelia, only offered conditional approval. They would stand by him, provided he lived on their terms, by their rules. Any slip, any sign of his demonic self, and friendship turned to enmity.
But with William, it had been different. Angel knew that he only need exist and that was enough for William. The boy accepted kisses and blows with equal grace. So long as his Sire was there, nothing else mattered to William. Rationally, Angel knew that part of that was due to the blood they shared. William’s demon, born from his own, craved close contact and intimacy. Rather like human infants, fledging demons needed their makers. Nevertheless, there had been love. At least, on William’s part. Angelus loved nothing, not even himself. Angelus could only offer the echoing howl of the tomb, and that was precisely what he had offered to everyone he came across. Death, artistic and elegant death, given with an exquisitely beautiful smile.
Angel loved William. He could admit that he missed the boy, his sweet shy smile and disheveled curls, his unabashed love for his Sire. The only time he’d ever been loved and it had taken him a hundred years to appreciate it. Angel laughed softly, knowing that Cordelia had been right. He was slow. Too slow and too late, for William was long gone. Only Spike remained. He wouldn’t save William with this foolish act of bravado, but Spike. However, he spoke no less than the truth to Wes and Cordelia. Spike was his Childe. Time had changed them both, despite Spike’s fervent denials otherwise. Angelus and his William didn’t exist anymore. Their passing had left Angel and Spike, and no matter what, Angel wouldn’t shame their blood and bond. He would save Spike. Now, if he could just figure out why he kept landing in lace…
“Sire?”
That husky voice, so familiar and so welcome, drew Angel quickly from his own meandering mind and he once again opened his eyes. It was the same face, every detail exactly the same as it had been the last time they’d been in the same bed. The lovely face unmarred, no scar yet. Angel half-wondered if that night had sounded William’s death knell or if he had killed him when he left the first time. Either his own abandonment or the death of that Slayer in China had smothered the life out of William and heralded the arrival of Spike. It didn’t much matter, he figured. In any case, it had been all his fault.
Angel stared, trying to engrave the sight of his Childe in his mind. He would never see this sight again, except in his own mind and he wanted to remember it. The blue blue eyes looked down on him with affection and something remarkably like pity.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I love you so much and I’m sorry…” Angel murmured brokenly, feeling a tear trail down his face.
William leaned down, his pink tongue sneaking out to follow the tear track upwards. He pressed a soothing kiss to Angel’s forehead and hushed him. Lying on top of Angel, William brought their mouths together, the kisses a benediction for Angel’s soul. Busy hands divested Angel of his clothing, quickly and smoothly, with no break in the wonderful drugging kisses.
Skin met skin and Angel moaned into William’s mouth. It had been so long since they’d been together like this. No anger, no pain, no grudges, just two lovers entwined and peaceful. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed the feeling of this strong masculine body pressed against him.
Angel tore himself away from William’s lips and panted harshly. He had so much he wanted to say, so much to make amends for. William’s singularly wise eyes met his and a slim white finger pressed against his mouth, stopping his words. He tried again, and William sighed heavily.
Angel gave up thinking about words when William slithered down his body and slurped around his swollen knob. That talented tongue swirled underneath his foreskin, drawing intricate patterns and shapes on his tight flesh. Angel pushed his upwards slightly, body restless and aching. Over the years, he’d had other lovers. The Furies, Buffy, Drusilla, hell, he’d even fucked Spike after he lost his soul. But this was his boy, infinitely inventive and incredibly knowledgeable about every square inch of his Sire’s body. Angel stared at the honeyed curls, the sight of his Childe working his cock ratcheting up his pleasure.
“Yeah, he’s beautiful down there, ain’t he, luv? Sweet, pliable, and oh so willing,” a cocky voice whispered in his ear. “He’ll do anything, be anyone for you. Bet that really sparks you, don’t it? Knowing you have all the power.”
Angel turned his head to see Spike crouched by the bed. His hair shone almost white in the gaslight, standing up in stiff peaks. His eyes, rimmed in black, glittered with malice. He leaned in closer and the chains around his neck jingled musically. Angel met Spike’s gaze, his own eyes soft with desire. William never stopped teasing Angel’s cock, indeed didn’t even seem aware of Spike’s presence.
“I always wondered how much you remembered, Angel. You played a good game, blathering on ‘bout how I disgust you. Guess the truth will out, eh? That soul o’yours doesn’t stop you from wanting it, does it? His mouth, his arse, his surrender. You want all of it, crave it. It’s your drug of choice, power,” Spike’s mouth hovered inches away from Angel’s lip, the cool breath raising bumps on Angel’s sensitive skin.
His body tensed as William pulled him all the way down, using his strong throat muscles to swallow Angel’s cock. The intense suction and the sight of Spike combined to drag a near-scream from Angel’s throat. He arched up and William pulled back, returning to kittenish laps and licks.
“Gonna cum for him, pet? Or are you saving that luscious stonker for later? Bend him over, give him a good pounding, right? Pour all that lust and anger and hate into his backside. Use him and lose him and he’ll come crawling back for more. That’s his drug o’choice. Wants your approval, your love. Knows he can never have it and that makes him crave it all the more, “ Spike leaned in even closer, the sound of his leather duster complimenting the moist smacking sounds the permeated the room. He was so close now that their lips touched and Angel quivered.
“What…ah…about you, Spike? What’s your…ugh…drug of choice,” Angel demand, voice harsh and raspy.
“Ah-ah, pet. That would be telling and I don’t aim to give you any advantages here. ‘S my game we’re playing, innit? My head, my rules. I know what you want, Angel. Know where you live now. Can practically taste it. You want him, “ Spike inclined his head sideways towards the curled figured of William. “You can have him, o’course. He’s always been yours. But you gotta take me in the bargain and I figure I’m owed a bit.”
William removed his mouth from Angel’s cock and stared at the two figures. He crawled up Angel’s body, straddling his hips and rubbing their erections together. He bent forward and in a swift striking motion, captured Spike’s lips. The two halves of Spike kissed, tender and ferocious, lips and tongues tangling in mutual love and desire. The sight of these two ravishing men together, mouths battling and claiming, drove Angel over the edge and he shuddered, shooting jets of cool semen onto his belly and chest. To his surprise, Spike broke off the kiss and swept his tongue through the puddles of semen.
Glancing up, Spike smirked, “Told you, ponce. This is my game, so we play it my way. Now, if you’ve finished molesting poor William here, what’s say we get down to business?”
TBC