Title: Don't Tell Me
Author: Romany
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: A/S, B/A/S
Summary: set immediately after AtS 5x20, The Girl In Question


So Spike and Angel sat there, leaning against Angel’s desk, the head of the Capo finally given to the family. But them? They were still there. Wouldn’t look at the bugger right next to him. Flew halfway round the world and for what? To have the Immortal stick it to him again? A tantalizing glimpse of Buffy?

For him and Angel, when it came to her, all bets were off. The shagging, the truces, none of that mattered. He got a soul for her, he did. Died for the world because of it. And the ponce next to him thought he could stow her away like a fine wine. Have his perfect love when he was good and ready, all atoned.

Fuck it, should just go home and have a go at the PlayStation.

Startled him when he felt the old man’s hip brush up against his. He looked over at Angel, whose arms were still folded, his grim and determined face looking at the future or some such. Good and fine, but did he have to do it right next to him? And there it was again, the slight brush of hip, Angel still looking away.

“Quit it,” Spike said, folding his own arms. The brush of hip again. “Quit it, I said. Won’t have you flirting with me.” Spike inched away from Angel’s encroaching hip. “Give Rover a call, why don’t you? Have her console you.”

“Planning on it,” Angel finally said, still looking out at the Outer Hebrides or maybe the Orion Nebula. But his hip brushed Spike’s again.

Spike leaned back, picked up the receiver. “Here,” he said, “What’s her number? I’ll punch it in for you ‘less you’ve already got it on speed dial.” And sure enough, there was ‘Nina’ at #3. “Well, that’s easy then.” And with that he pushed the button.

Angel killed the call before it could ring through. Finally glaring at Spike, he said, “That is a conversation you don’t want to hear.”

Spike met his gaze, “Might not. But you might, yeah? Used to like it when I watched, might like it if I listened.”

Should have let it go at that, but he continued, “Used to like putting it to Dru while I watched. Used to like putting it to me when I was putting it to Dru.” And bugger all, but he was getting hard. Not just from the memory of it, but happened almost every time he and Angel fought now. Fucking Pavlov’s dog, he was.

Angel looked away, “People change,” he said.

But Spike looked down at the bulge in Angel’s trousers, could smell it in the air. So Spike said, “Not us. Not us demons.”

Wanted more than anything to grab that lummox and have at it right then and there. But he had a point to make. So he leaned over and almost whispered, “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of me lapping into that hot Slayer cunny while you fuck me good and hard.” And judging by the way Angel closed his eyes, took an unnecessary breath, he had. So Spike insinuated himself closer and whispered some more, “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of me taking her from behind while you take her in the front. Or her sucking me up and down while you plow into her...Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of any of that.” Angel shuddered. Good and hard now, he was. “Don’t tell me different. ‘Cause I knew you then and I know you now. And you’re not as different as you would have them all believe.”

Suddenly, Spike’s back was against the floor, Angel on top of him. “Spike. Shut up.” So Spike did shut up, grinned.

And Angel said, while grinding his hips into Spike’s, “Keep talking.” He undid his belt, unzipped. “God, Spike, just keep talking.”
“Thought you had a phone call to make?” Spike said, licking his lips, letting Angel peel his kit off.

“It can wait,” he said, stroking himself with lotion. “Thought I told you to keep talking,” he insisted while he hooked one of Spike’s knees over his shoulder and then the other.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought of her sitting nice and pretty on your face while I ride you up and down.” He grunted as Angel entered him in one thrust. “Don’t tell me...”

He couldn’t finish that one. Angel’s tongue was in his mouth.

And yeah, ended up the way Angel wanted, with his cock up Spike’s arse. Angel was driving. No denying that. But this time? Both of their hands were on the wheel.

-End

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