a.connor  a.doyle  a.lindsey  a.oz  a.spike  a.wesley  a.xander  a.other  three.somes  het.fic  character.study           
Title: By her side
Author: Criss Moody
 Pairing: Angel/Spike, threads of Angel/Buffy and Buffy/Spike
 Rating: NC-17
Setting: Through AtS 'Epiphany' and BtVS 'Forever'

 

Hours spent by Buffy's side, casual, platonic embrace had
left Angel exhausted.  So hard to keep his good intentions
in mind when her sweet vanilla flesh surrounded him and he
knew that he could get away with anything right then.
Ripping away the boundaries and the clothes to get at her
warm, silk skin.  Creamy and endless, and so fucking mortal
it hurt to think about it.

So many times he'd bit back, "Buffy, I had an epiphany," or
"Buffy, I've been through so much in the last few months."
Not because he didn't want her to know, but because she
didn't care.  Not then.  Not at her mother's grave.  Buffy
needed him to be sweet, gentle Angel.  She needed.  And he
was there for her, and he held her in his arms, and
listened, and comforted with the most banal of words.
Little steps now, into the brighter pained world of making
decisions and standing by them.  Look at Buffy more as
someone to be helped, someone to be saved, than true love.
Truer and better that way even if lingering traces of
vanilla and grief cling to him.

Angel shook his body hard, as if he could free his skin of
her smell that way.  Never free, never unbound from the
taste and feel of her, her blood sharing space and vein
with that of hundreds, a favored few.  This nasty heat
crawling under his skin...he'd forgotten kissing mortals,
he'd forgotten the horrible warmth and smell that lingered
after the human had gone.  Reminding him that he was dead.
Wanted desperately to be gone, even though he had an hour
'till the sun rose.

He'd come close to hating Buffy during the night.  For not
asking, for being selfish, for not letting him show off his
newfound completeness.  "Look at me, I can be a demon, and
a man, and have a soul, and not be Angelus, and not be a
murdering fiend.  I finally figured it out."  Needed Buffy,
impetus of his birth into the world of fighting the good
fight, to be proud of him.  Please, please, admire, see,
acknowledge.  Not the right place or time, so Angel let
Buffy see only Angel, not the man become the demon who has
accepted all three selves into himself.

Dislodged the twigs and dirt clinging to his black jeans as
he walked.  Halfway through the cemetery, he caught a ripe,
familiar smell on the air.  Rolling puffs of smoke dirtied
the pure black of the sky as they fled over the top of a
headstone.  Two steps and a look down revealed a bleached
blonde head attached to a long, slumped body.

"You done with the big strong Angel bit?  Thought I was
gonna heave, frankly.  How many bloody times do you have to
say I'm sorry? I think the girl got it after the eigh-"
 

Angel hauled the peroxided vampire up to eye level,
slamming him against the tree.

"Spike." This could be fun.  This could relieve stress.
First he'd kick the crap out of his grandchilde for
existing.  Then, heâd inquire gently after why the vamp
smelled too much like the Buffy.  Or maybe he'd just kick
the crap out of him some more.  Excise the Angelus-like
urge to fuck Buffy there in the dirt, watch the horror as
she came, right next to where her mother's body lay rotting
beneath the ground.  To take, and kill, and arrange the
beauty in crimson swirls of death.

"Yeah, that'd be me.  Ain't you the crackerjack detective?"
The blonde wiggled free and patted out the creases in his
leather duster.  They stood, separated by three to four
feet of ground and millions of miles of hate and history.

"How long have you been here?"

"Been here since the bloody funeral, hidin' in the bushes
under a blanket." Spike dragged a hand through his unruly
tresses.  The shaking of the black tipped fingers drew
Angel's eyes.  Spike was shaking, terrified or angry or
scared.

ãDidnât anyone ever teach you itâs not nice to eavesdrop?ä

Spike didnât grace that with a response, just a
heavy-lidded, long look, before turning away.  His upper
body arched as if to walk away, and Angel moved into grab
Spikeâs arm.  Spike snarled, latched onto Angelâs arm, and
threw the big man toes over head hard into the firm earth.

With a shredded snarl, Spike launched himself at the prone
vampire, sending the two rolling down the small hill behind
them.  As they reached the bottom, they both sprang up and
began to circle each other.  Noses curling, they sniffed
the air, reading the pheromones and adrenaline pumping
through the air.  Slowly, in unconscious unison, their
human features melted off to reveal the demon.  Angelâs
eyes glowed crimson gold in the darkness as he regarded his
grandchilde.  Spike had his hands down at his sides,
fingers twitching and dancing.   Face vamped, Angel blinked
as old features flickered over new, longer, sable hair
where bleached existed now, cocky arrogance superimposed on
learned sneer.

With a roar, Angel charged, catching Spike in the chest.
Their arms gripped each other in a mock embrace, grappling
for supremacy.   Didnât want to remember days when he liked
the cocky arrogance.  When he liked fucking the witty words
right out of his pretty little mouth until Will just
whimpered.  Being deep in that boyâs ass had been like a
trip to nirvana while smoking acid.  Pure mind-tripping
pleasure.

Angel was starting to feel like going on a trip down memory
lane.

"Boy, you never did know your place."

"My place??  My fucking place is fucking nowhere thanks to
you and Dru and a stupid chip."  High hiss on the chip, and
Spike started to lose his grip on Angel.  The older vampire
took advantage of the moment to throw Spike to the ground
and straddle him.  Rolled his hips against him, and grinned
when Spike's hips rose up to meet his.

"Spike, I'd forgotten how fucking easy you are."

With a flick of his hips and body weight, Spike flipped
them over to straddle his grandsire.

"Easy?  I'll show you bloody easy."  Took both hands and
ripped the silk shirt off Angel's chest, revealing the
creamy expanse of cold skin.  Bone white rising to two
persimmon red nipples, hardened to tiny points.  Ripped his
own black tee off before gripping Angel's wrists and
lowering himself in.  Their teeth clashed and clacked,
blood running down Angel's face as teeth nipped and fangs
sliced at tender flesh.  Lips rubbed against lips as Spike
attacked Angel's mouth, as if he could eat the words he
didn't like straight off the tongue and make them
disappear.

For the briefest of moments, Angel felt safe.  Consumed in
the embrace of this violent creature he'd helped form, he
wasn't obligated to be nice.  Or friendly.  Or anything but
a fuck hungry vampire.  Too soon, bored by the repetitive
anger Spike threw out like an electric net, Angel grew
restless under the oral assault.  He reared up under Spike
and threw the blonde off to one side.  Quickly came down on
knee next to Spike.  Paused to look at the results.  Of
kissing.  Of being chipped.

He was so damn beautiful when he hurt.  Poor little Spike,
forced to rely on the humans.  Damn funny, Angel had to
admit.  At least he didn't have a soul.  But which was
worse?  Electric or spiritual leash?  Angel bent, and
placed a false soft kiss on Spike's ruby red lips before
raising his fist high and ramming it into Spike's stomach.
Gloried in the gasp from those blood stained lips and
remembered days of beating the 'God' out of William the not
yet Bloody.  Must be why Angel felt so much like
worshipping as his fists made repeated contact with Spike's
torso.  Again and again, tenderizing the flesh, sweet
purple bruises that would not last long, but would be a
beauty mark for a moment.

"You.  Fucking.  Done.  Yet.  Peaches?"  Each word
punctuated by a grunt.  Angel ceased beating on Spike and
straddled the younger vampire again.

"Mmmmm-let me think."  Angel rubbed his chin with a spare
hand, holding Spike's wrists in the other.  Took a sweaty
finger, dragged it down Spikeâs chest, and the blonde
hissed as he watched it approach his groin.  Angel yanked
the front panel off of Spike's ubiquitous black jeans, and
in one swift move had Spike's cock firmly in his grasp.
Sighed happily at the dolphin firm, cold feel to the
squirming member.   No annoyingly warm mortal here.  Dead,
just like Angel.  Blood, just like Darla, but without the
accompanying 'uh, sorry I killed you once' angst.  Angst,
yes, but that subsided under an overwhelming need to fuck.


Now.

"Mmm, no, not done."  Unfastened his own slacks, freeing
his turgid erection.  Hissed at the feel of his hand on the
foreskin.  Kissed Spike again, delicately licking the thin
lips free of blood and spittle.  Angel read arousal and
fierce denial in the baby blues blinking up at him.  So
hard, some times, to see Spike and not William.  Blundering
newborn begging for help from his elders.  Arching, rising
mounds of pale, pale flesh.  Please, don't, dear God, stop,
it·it hurts, don't you hear me?  But Angelus heard, and
loved, and fucked William until the new vampire learned to
swallow down his poet's soul and fight arrogance with
brattiness.

Angel sucked two of his fingers into his mouth, watched
Spike watch his movements, ridiculous trepidation floating
across those easy to read eyes.  Ridiculous because this
wasn't anything that hadn't happened before.  A few years,
a few hundred, but Spike knew the punishing, erotic hard
taste of his grandsire's cock as well as the blonde knew
the taste of Dru's cunt.  Familiar, family.  What was me
was you is us.

Raised Spike's hips up to straddle his, and Angel knelt
between the younger vampire's jean clad legs.  Almost
drooled at the sight of the veined, purple cock.  Spike
wasn't thick, but he was long, arching slightly at the tip.
Angel took his saliva saturated fingers and plunged them
into Spike's defenseless ass.  Grinned at the howl of
protest from Spike that quickly became mewls of frustrated
pleasure.  Withdrew the fingers, slapped Spike hard across
the face when the vampire opened his mouth to speak, and
raised himself and Spike's legs up.  Snug up to the pale
body before him, and Angel gripped Spike's hip as he slid
in.

Tight, cold, sparkles of frigid pleasure danced up and down
Angel's spine.  He almost forgot to move as his cock
swelled and pulsed inside the plush, firm grip of Spike's
body.  Began to pump, slow, so slow that Angel's cock
almost fell out on each thrust.  Angel's eyes slid shut as
he concentrated on the feelings, dancing out into color
behind his eyelids.  Cascades of gold and orange, silver
sparkles, like tiny snowflakes encased in precious metal.
Taste of cock and ass blooming on his tongue as if he'd
been doing things he hadn't done since he'd been human.
But, to be honest, the temperature felt the best.  Their
body temperatures stayed at the same, ambient temperature,
and Angel nearly cooed as his cock again and again
disappeared between Spike's muscular globes.

Rasping ache as he moved faster, created an empty heat from
the friction.  Angel's low-hanging balls slapped,
smackidysmack, against Spike's ass as the big vampire
angled over and drove himself home.  Listened to Spike's
keening wail as the younger vampire's cock jumped and
throbbed between their bodies, bouncing against the
occasional stomach.  Angel lowered his body and slowed his
thrusts, careful to keep arched just enough to prevent
Spike from rubbing his cock between their stomachs.

"What?  You want to come?"  Angel lazily thrust, rubbing a
hand down Spike's thigh.

"Fuck.  Yes."  Teeth clenched, hair wild, mussed, rich
black earth threading through the silken blonde.

"Spike, my boy, I don't think I'm feeling generous
tonight."  Angel raised up, and thrust deep, hard, bruising
flesh.  Savored the wonderful cool of Spike's ass for a
brief second before letting his release happen, shuddering
cold, useless seed into Spike's body.  Watched as the
bubbling white foam rushed out past his softening cock
before dripping around the blonde's buttocks and into the
ground. Angel withdrew, stood, his cock swaying drunkenly
in the breeze.

"I don't have to say that it's been fun.  But, while I've
got you here,"  hand suddenly clutching at Spike's throat,
fingers threatening to rip his grandechilde's throat out,
"hurt her.  You die.  Get it?"

Angel released his hold and stood back, eyes surveying the
damage done to his clothing.  Good thing he'd brought a few
extra things·in case.  Always be prepared, or at least
that's what Cordelia had chirped as she thrust the suitcase
into the trunk.  Felt-calmer now, Angelus again relegated
to an stage in his evolution as a being of the light.  As
Angel prepared to walk away, already deciding to wear the
soft gray chinos and the coal black cotton pullover, Spike
spoke.

"Yeah, go ahead.  Fuck and run.  But ya know what?"

Angel looked back, scathing remark on his full lips.  Saw
Spike laid out, legs spread, fist closed on his cock,
jerking hard on the denied thickness.  Spike's eyes rolled
back into his head as he came, shooting ropes of come over
his chest, the ground beneath him.  As Spike sucked his
fingers free of come, he managed to plant one burr under
Angel's recovered sanity.

"You're in L.A.  And I'm.  Right.  By.  Her.  Side."

~end~
 

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