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Angelus' Place

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Sanguine Revival 12/? (Spike/Darla, Spike/Angel, Adults Only) [Apr. 9th, 2006|11:06 am]
Angelus' Place


Little aside- my Jossverse slash rp needs players- info and links here-

AUTHORS: Salustra and Cathelin
E-MAILS: Salustra: goddess_salustra@juno.com ; Cathelin: cathelinn@yahoo.co.uk .
TITLE: Sanguine Revival 12/?
RATING: FRAO, Adults only,
PAIRING: This Chapter- Spike/Angel.
SUMMARY: This chapter:- Angel gets a couple more 'presents'. Spike, Joyce and Dawn arrive in LA. Angel receives some distressing news.
Distribution: Various lists, Wierd Romance Yahoo Group- http://groups.yahoo.com/group/WierdRomance ;
Our livejournals - http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=salustra and http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=cathelin; and the website Weird Romances- http://www.salustra.vague-disclaimer.org .
SPOILERS: Through Season 5 BtVS: Fool For Love, and Season 2 Ats: Darla.
WARNINGS: Dark themes implied. Frottage. Slash
DISCLAIMER: We adore playing with the pretties, but we’re just having fun. No money made, don’t sue us!
FEEDBACK: Yes please.
Length: 5,085 words

Previous chapters are here –

Small worksafe manip beneath the cut.

Angel sits slumped over his desk, a pile of paperwork that Cordy has dumped there in front of him. Sighing wearily he signs the bottom of a form before putting it into the 'To File' tray. It flits through his mind yet again what a stupid thing for the tray to be named, it's not like Cordy's filing system is related to any kind of logic whatsoever. With another, deeper, sigh he starts to read the next form.

Cordelia comes in with the mail. "Package for you," she chirps, and hands it to him.

"Thanks." Happy to leave aside the paperwork, Angel gives her a smile as he takes it from her.

Cordelia smiles back at Angel and sits down on the edge of his desk, her little skirt riding up as usual. "So how are you coming with the paperwork?"

"Slowly." Angel replies morosely. He looks down at the small padded envelope in his hands and frowns, curious as to its contents.

"Gonna open it up?"

Nodding, Angel pulls the tab, lifting the flap, sliding his hand inside and pulling out...a flat square plastic box. "What is it?" Angel asks, holding it out.

Cordy giggles. "Jeez, Angel." She opens it, taking out a silvery disk. "It's a CD-ROM or a DVD. Hang on, I'll pop it into the computer and check it out."

"C D ROM...D V D." Angel mouths to himself. That explanation just doesn't help at all. Cordelia giggles and heads over to her desk, sitting down and sliding it into her CD/DVD drive.

"Ok, quick virus scan first." A minute later, she nods. "It's clean, let's check it out." She clicks her mouse, and her eyes open wide. "Oh. My." She looks over at Angel and blushes.

"What?" Angel looks at her, his stomach plummeting in sudden suspicion.

"Ummm...You might need to come look at these. But you have to *promise* not to punch my computer, ok?"

"Do you think I'm likely to want to?" Angel asks, slowly standing up and taking a couple of heavy steps towards her.

"Yes, and just remember how much it cost the last time."

"Ok." Angel's voice is slightly strangled sounding. "I promise not to punch your computer."

"Ok. You can come look."

Taking a fortifying breath, Angel continues the short walk to stand behind her. Reluctantly he lifts his eyes to look at the screen. He stands frozen for a couple of moments in sheer disbelief before "Fucking HELL!"

Cordelia nods. "Yeah. It looks that way." She tilts her head to the side. "How can she even *get* into that position?"

"You'd be surprised how easily." Angel answers without thinking. His brain has momentarily shut down in favor of his dick. There on the screen, is a full color photograph of Darla, *his* Darla, exposed to the camera and in one of his favorite positions for screwing the little strumpet senseless.

Cordelia turns to look at Angel. "Really?" The picture switches on the screen automatically to the next picture, Darla with her mouth wrapped around Lindsey's cock.

Distracted only momentarily by Cordelia's movement, Angel's attention returns to the screen at the change. Every muscle in his body freezes as he starts to growl. Cordelia tenses at the growl, and the picture switches again, this time to Darla straddled over Lindsey. The pose is artful so it's impossible to see if Lindsey is actually inside her or not, but her expression is blissful and his hands are cupped on her breasts.

Angel's growl grows that little bit louder and more menacing as his eyes change color. His fangs drop with the next picture, visibly peeking between his lips. As the picture switches again - from one of Lindsey's tongue in Darla's open pussy to one of his tongue about to lick her spread asscheeks, Angel's face changes completely.

Cordelia is getting nervous, wondering if she should just shut off the disc. Her hand reaches towards the mouse.

Before she can, the picture changes again and it's this picture that really sets Angel off. Again it's one with a clever pose, but it certainly *looks* as if Lindsey's [*soon to be ripped off*] cock is buried in her asshole. Angel howls with fury.

Cordelia flinches at the howl and clicks the corner, shutting down the slideshow. "Angel....calm down."

"Calm down!" He hisses, "Oi'll calm down when Oi've killed t little fecker." Spinning on his heels he heads for the weapons cabinet. "Touch me sire wil'e? Let's see what use he is witout 'is prick or tongue."

Oh, crap. The Irish accent is thick enough to cut with a knife, and that's *never* a good sign. "Angel, I'm sure this is *just* the reaction she's wanting."

"O course it is." Angel snorts, pulling out a wickedly curved knife. "That's naught ta do wit it."

"Angel, don't *do* this!" Cordelia moves over to try to take the knife from him.

"Come on Cordy! Te little basterd has been askin fer tis fer years." He pulls the knife out of her hands and into his belt.

"That may be, but you can't *do* it, Angel."

"*Why not*?"

"You have a soul, for one thing. And you don't want to play Wolfram and Hart's games, for another."

Giving a petulant snarl, Angel crosses his arms. "Fine. I won't kill him or cut off his dick or tongue. Is that better?"

"Yes, that's better." Cordelia sighs, seeing that's as much of a concession as she is going to get.

"Fine." He huffs, dropping into human face. "Can I go hur..threaten the bastard now?"

"If you *must*."

"Oh I must." Angel replies darkly.

"Well have fun. Just not *too* much fun."

"Damn." Angel mumbles as he turns away. He sighs as he picks up his coat "Ok, right. Not too much fun." Cordelia lets out a breath in relief and moves back to her desk.

"I'll be back later." Angel says over his shoulder as he heads for his car. "Call me if you have a vision."

"I will," Cordelia calls after him.


Spike settles back as they make it out of the main traffic, on the highway between Sunnydale and Los Angeles. He can relax some now, and he glances over at Joyce. "You awright, luv?"

"I'm fine thank you Spike." Joyce gives him a gentle smile. "It's very kind of you to come with us. I know that you mustn't be looking forward to a couple of days in Angel's company."

Spike chuckles dryly at that. "No, not really. But I can't have you passing out at the wheel."

"I'm sure Giles would have..." Joyce is interrupted by a quiet snort from the backseat. "Yes Dawn?" She asks dryly. "Something to add?"

"Nuhuh." Dawn buries her face back into her magazine. "Not a thing."

"Yeah, well, with you gone, Watcher'll needed to stick around for Buffy, right? In loco parentis, that sort of thing." Spike keeps his voice carefully neutral.

"I suppose so. He should at least be able to help keep her calm." Joyce nods.

"Yeah. She did seem a tad hysterical." Spike's tone is still carefully neutral and tactful.
Dawn snorts again.

"Dawn." Joyce says warningly.

"Yeah yeah I know."

Sighing at the smart answer, Joyce turns to Spike and rolls her eyes, looking a great deal like Dawn as she does so. Spike smiles over at them. "Nice of Angel to put you two up while you're in town."

"Hmm." Now it's Joyce's turn to play at being neutral as she smiles faintly and nods. "Yes it is."

"Yeah, well." Spike chuckles. "And you'll like John Whiteagle. He's a good guy, and really top-notch."

"How did you meet him?" She asks curiously.

"Friend of a friend. Needed a little help with something I couldn't heal on my own."
Something flickers in Joyce's eyes as she looks at him. "Ah. I see." She murmurs with a small shake of her head. But she doesn't ask if her suspicions are correct. What was that term she heard on the TV? Plausible deniability or something like that.

"M'sorry the docs couldn't help."

"So am I." Joyce replies then shrugs, "But if they can't then they can't. No matter how much Buffy sulks and threatens, the world doesn't move to her whims."

Dawn clears her throat. "Someone should tell her that sometime."

"I'll let you have that honor then shall I?" Joyce asks with a grin.

Dawn rolls her eyes. "Like she listens to me about *anything*. I told her she shouldn't beat up on Spike but..." Her mouth snaps shut as she realizes what she just said. Spike tenses in the front seat but doesn't comment.

"Pardon?" Joyce turns in her seat to look at Dawn. "What was that?"


"Spike?" Joyce turns to the vampire when Dawn tries to avoid her eyes.

"You really don't want the answer to that question, Joyce," Spike says gently.

"In that case I shall have to ask Buffy when we get home." Her voice is filled with a quiet anger.

Spike sighs. "I'm a safe outlet for her. If she hurts me, she knows I'll just heal. She *could* just kill me, as she reminds me pretty much on a weekly basis."

"She shouldn't need an 'outlet'." Joyce tells him decisively. "And she shouldn't be taking things out on you or anyone else. There's no excuse."

"M'sorry, Joyce. I never wanted to hurt you or Dawn. Dawn just happened to see it without Buffy knowing she had."

"It's not your fault Spike." Joyce sighs, propping her elbow on the window and resting her head in her hand. "It's Buffy's problem."

Spike shrugs. "I probably provoke her. Goodness knows I don't watch my mouth very well."

"You shouldn't have to. It's not like Dawn or any of her friends watch what they say and how they speak to her either." She frowns as she says worriedly, "How long before she hits one of them?"

"She'd never hit a human." Spike sounds definite on that. "But I'm a monster, so I don't count."

"You're *not* a monster and you *do* count. And there's no guarantee that she wouldn't if she was angry enough."

Dawn opens her mouth as if to say something, but then thinks better of it. Her mother's annoyed enough as it is, she really doesn't want to make things worse.

"She can't help it. That's standard Slayer training, they get it drummed into their heads over and over. Demons and vampires are monsters, not people."

"Hmm. And don't think that Mr. Giles and I haven't had words about that." Pressing her fingers against her temples, Joyce sighs again. "Such black and white views are silly in view of you, Oz and Anya. Yes and Angel too."

"I'm glad at least *you* see it. But you've always been decent to me, you and Niblet both. Never will forget you giving me cocoa when I showed up all torn up about Dru."

Smiling, Joyce relaxes a little. "It's nice to have someone to talk to. And you've always been very sweet to both of us."

Biting her lip, Dawn hides her grin by pretending to look out the blacked out window.

"How could I not like someone who watches 'Passions'?"

Laughing lightly, Joyce shakes her head at his comment.

"So you want to stop for dinner before we get to Angel's? He won't have any food in the place, he doesn't eat."

"But doesn't he have human employees?"

"Yeah, but they don't live there."

"Ah. Well in that case, we should certainly stop and feed the bottomless pit sitting in the back." Joyce grins.

Spike chuckles, looking in the rear view mirror to see Dawn. "What would you like to eat, Niblet?"

He finds her cross-armed glaring at the back of her mom's head. "Don't care." She huffs.

"Well, Joyce, anything appeal to you?"

"I'm not all that hungry to tell you the truth." Joyce sighs. "So whenever you see somewhere convenient we can go there. As long as it's fattening Dawn will eat it."


"Tell you what, I know this little Thai place. Spicy food's good when you're not that hungry, it'll perk you up."

"That would be nice thank you Spike." Joyce gives him another thankful smile.

After having a nice dinner and stopping to pick up some juice and some eggs and bacon and bread to make breakfast, they arrive at the hotel. Spike gets out, opening Joyce's door and holding out his hand to help her out

Angel is sat at his office, staring at the his latest 'present' from Darla. His mind is far away, dwelling in the past - glorious nights of blood and passion and laughter. God he misses those times.

"Thank you Spike." Joyce takes his hand and climbs out of the passenger seat. "Always such a gentleman."

Spike kisses her knuckles. "For you, at any rate." He opens the door for Dawn and then starts getting luggage out of the trunk.

Dawn gets out, looking at the hotel. "Not much to look at, is it?"

"It's not too bad." Joyce replies. "A bit rundown."

Spike grins at Joyce. "A little age just means there's some experience there." He winks at Dawn behind Joyce's back, and she stifles a giggle at his gallant flirting.

"Very true." Joyce laughs. Turning she reaches for one of their bags.

"No, no, Joyce, Dawn and I can get the bags. The docs said no stress. We'll see you inside," Spike insists.

Frowning, she looks from Spike to Dawn. "But...oh very well." She sighs and goes inside.

There's not much, just a few overnight bags and Spike's cooler of blood, along with the groceries. They manage it all in one trip and are just a little behind Joyce

Entering the lobby, Joyce finds it empty. "Hello?" She calls, moving further inside. "Angel?"


She jumps and turns to find Angel standing in one of the doorways. His face is rather distant looking, but he's smiling in a friendly way. "There you are." She says, her hand resting over her racing heart. Damned vampire, looks like he's still sneaking up on people.

"Yes." Angel nods, and comes forward. "You found us ok?"

Spike comes in the door, hands full of luggage, with Dawn right behind. "Yeah, I still know how to drive, ponce."

"Spike." Angel sighs with a put upon expression. Turning to the other vampire he automatically takes a deep breath. His mind quickly filters the various layers of scent, ending up looking rather disturbed as he stares at the other vampire.

Joyce gives Angel a firm glare, coming to stand between him and Spike. "Angel, Spike. You both remember that you promised to behave?"

"Yes, ma'am," Spike says, mock-abashed, eyes twinkling. He notices Angel's expression and furrows his brow.

Angel shakes himself and gives a sheepish smile. "Yes Joyce." He makes an aborted move to take some of the luggage. "Erm...Cordy cleaned out a couple of rooms on the same floor as ours. Rooms 105, 106 and 107. Did you want to make your own ways up or shall I show you?"

"I'm sure we can find our own way thank you Angel." Joyce gives him a smile as she starts towards the stairs, wanting to get him and Spike apart as soon as possible, thinking it would be best.

Spike nods. "Lemme get you settled Joyce, then I'll put away the groceries." He picks up the luggage and gestures to Dawn to follow. She's sorely tempted to stick out her tongue at Angel but resists.

Angel doesn't notice, his attention is fixed on the younger vampire as he climbs the stairs. "Spike." He says quietly, "I'd like a word when you come down."

"Yeah, awright." Spike looks over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. Nodding, Angel returns to his office.

Spike takes Joyce up, making sure she's got the most comfortable room, and Dawn settled in next to her, before heading back down to put away the groceries and his blood.

Sunk back in his memories, Angel sits leant back in his chair. Holding the Cognac from Darla, he strokes his thumb gently over the label of the aged bottle. His eyes are closed, face tilted to the ceiling.

Spike finishes in the kitchen and steps in the doorway of the office, watching Angel fondle the bottle. "Nice vintage, is it?" He asks mildly.

"William." Angel murmurs his name lovingly, still caught in the past. Spike feels a tug at his heart, hearing Angel speak his name like that, and there's a brief, unexpected rush of heat.

Coming back to earth with a bump, Angel straightens up and coughs, putting down the bottle. "Spike." His face is flushed as he avoids the other vampire’s gaze. "Why don't you have a seat?"

Spike sighs and steps into the office, draping himself over one of the chairs, a leg hooked over the arm of it. "Yeah So whatcha want?"

"Your scent." Angel says quietly, staring at the desktop.

"What about it?" Spike's voice is tense.

"I can smell...Why can I smell...?"

"Come out with it, Angel, jeez."

"Have you been fighting?" Angel says hopefully. "And...clubbing?"

"Ah. I've patrolled, yeah, but that's not the reason for what you smell." Spike looks at him defiantly.

"It's not?" Angel's face is calm, but his eyes as he raises them are pained.

"No." Spike almost growls. "A vampire at the mercy of humans has to expect that some of them will have a different concept of what constitutes 'mercy'."

"Oh god." Stricken Angel shakes his head. "God no."

Spike narrows his eyes. "As if you care. You *left* me there."

"No!" Angel denies. "I offered for you to come here. But you didn't want to!"

"When? We haven't spoken since I came to town before the chip. I felt you, you know, standing outside last Thanksgiving. Felt you walk away and leave me."

"But I told...Giles..." Angel trails off face darkening as he starts to put two and two together.

Spike raises an eyebrow. "Well, that makes sense. Now you know who's responsible for what you smell."

Covering his eyes, Angel shakes his head. "No...he wouldn't..." He nearly begs. "Buffy...Willow...?"

"Buffy uses me for a punching bag. And Willow's busy with Tara."

"Oh God." Angel slumps over his desk, gripping the edge. This is unbelievable, unacceptable. His demon is not just rattling his cage but attacking the bars in the need to get free and punish the human that would *dare* to...

Spike's emotions are actually whirling. Assuming his Sire is telling the truth, he hadn't completely abandoned him to the humans. And he did at least seem to care somewhat about what had happened. Well, good. Maybe it would push things along. Well worth taking a torture session from Giles for, if he could pry loose more of Angel's hold on his demon and push him closer to where they needed him to be.

His body shaking with emotion and the fight with his demon half, Angel's nails dig into the wood of the desk, slowly splintering it. Golden eyes stare unseeing at the grain, as he tries to resist the arguments of 'Angelus' - arguments that are starting to sound *very* reasonable right about now.

Spike decides to push a little more fuel on the fire. "What did you expect? He had me in chains even though I couldn't possibly hurt any of them. Surely you had to smell me on him when he spoke to you."

Angel shakes his head wildly. "Mechlarsh demon..." He explains, voice strained. "I fought one a couple of days before, got a face full of venom." Mechlarsh venom was a powerful sensory inhibitor, very valuable on the black market. Not so valuable when you were a vampire that relies strongly on your senses.

"Well. At least I know now you din't sell me out to him." Spike slumps, letting his face and body show his resignation to the treatment he'd received.

Imagination running wild, Angel closes his eyes tightly. It doesn't help, his demon calls up memories of the times he had Spike in chains himself, only superimposed over those memories was Giles, not Angelus, hurting his childe. Gritting his teeth, he presses his face against his desk. "No...no..." He starts to chant, half in reply to those horrible pictures, half to the urgings of his demon to...just...let...go.

Spike looks at Angel, seeing him teetering perilously close to losing control completely. It's too soon for that, they're not ready to preserve his sanity yet. Spike makes a quick decision and moves over to kneel next to Angel, hands stroking on his thigh. "Sire?" He whispers softly, drawing his attention.

"Will." Angel whimpers, loosing the desk in favor of grabbing hold of Spike, pulling him close. Spike lets himself be pulled up into Angel's embrace. He purrs softly, writhing his body a little against Angel. Knowing for his Sire the line between anger and sex was a very thin one.

Burying his face in Spike's hair, Angel pants lightly as he struggles for control of his emotions. He can't help but moan as Spike moves against him. Spike strokes his hands down over Angel's arms, threading his delicate fingers with Angel's stronger ones. His mouth moves on Angel's neck, kissing softly, tilting his neck in submissive offer. "Use me, Sire."

Angel groans, saying weakly, "I can't."

"You need to. I can feel your demon, just below the surface. You need a release or you'll run mad. Go ahead."

With another groan Angel gives in far too easily. Pulling Spike onto his lap, he catches his mouth in a needy kiss. His arms wrap around the smaller vampire, holding him tightly. Spike moans and presses into the kiss, surrendering his mouth. His hands are still twined with Angel's, now held behind his back as Angel pulls him in tight.

Rocking his hips up into Spike, Angel shudders as their groins brush together, his fingers tightening reflexively between Spike's. Spike hardens immediately, his whole body reacting with a shiver as Angel presses against him.

Already struggling for control before Spike came within two feet of him, Angel's passion rises quickly and letting go of his hands, he stands up, placing Spike on top of the desk and pulling his legs around his waist. Spike whimpers and stretches on the desk, his body arching, his legs tightening to rub his crotch harder against Angel.

Hissing as his hips jerk forward, Angel watches him hungrily. His fingers fumble at the fastenings of Spike's jeans, eventually getting them open. Spike cock springs free, and he lifts his hips, hooking his hands into the waistband to ease down the jeans. He slides his T-shirt up and off, revealing his pale muscled chest, marred only by the residual hurts of his session with Giles.

Eyes suddenly riveted on the red marks, Angel snarls quietly. Leaning over Spike, he presses his mouth to one faint line, kissing and laving it as if to soothe the pain. Spike moans and curls fingers into Angel's hair, making soft little noises. Instinctively, noises he hadn't made for him in a hundred years.

Moving onto the next mark, Angel brings his hands to his own trousers, hurriedly freeing his cock and pressing it against Spike's. "My boy." He mumbles against Spike's shoulder.

Spike whimpers again at that. "Sire." He arches his hips in little thrusts, rubbing shaft to shaft against Angel.

Groaning, Angel braces his arms against the desk on either side of Spike's torso and starts to grind down against him. His mouth moves languidly between each of the marks marring his boy's perfection, in contrast with the hard and desperate movements of his hips. "My childe."

Right at the moment Spike's no longer even thinking about any of his plots and plans. He's completely open, needing, wanting. He closes his eyes and half sobs out, again, "My Sire." He moves to give Angel as much friction and contact as possible. Their bodies haven't forgotten each other.

Frustrated by the jeans trapped halfway down Spike's legs, Angel steps back to strip them roughly away, snapping the bootlaces to get his boots off. Kicking off his own pants, he presses back into Spike's body he urges him to wrap his legs around his hips.
Spike groans and lifts his legs again, pulling tight against his Sire. His hands move to pull open Angel's shirt, buttons popping, rubbing his hands over the muscular chest.

"Will." Angel purrs, leaning over his childe and bracing himself once more. "My Will."

"Yours?" Spike asks, blue eyes intent and raw on Angel's.

"Mine." Angel affirms, "Always mine." Spike groans and whimpers all at once, pressing into a hungry kiss as his hips keep thrusting to meet Angel's.

Angel returns the kiss passionately. In some hazy part of his mind he wonders over how easily they fit together, as if no time has passed apart, their cocks lined up between their hard stomachs, balls pressed together as they grind their hips.

Spike moans and purrs as he pulls closer to Angel, chest to chest, his own need getting sharper as they continue to rub together. Angel's cock is leaking a stream of precum, slicking their cocks. His hands move down to grip Spike's ass, pulling him even closer. He buries his face in Spike's neck as he starts to moan harshly. Spike whimpers and tilts his head, baring his neck for his Sire, feeling him getting closer to climax.

Growling at the submission, Angel feels his fangs drop helplessly. With another groan he buries them in Spike's neck. Spike's fingers tighten again in Angel's hair and his body shudders at the feel of fangs in his neck. "Oh, god, Sire!"

Shuddering at the taste of his childe's sweet blood, Angel screws his eyes shut as he comes. Ropes of cum spurting from his cock as he moans around his fangs and mouthful of blood. "William!" Spike shivers and whimpers, feeling Angel climax, cool liquid bathing his belly. His own cock is still hard and aching.

Still shuddering, Angel retracts his fangs, lapping at the punctures on Spike's neck.
Spike whines softly at the cool tongue on his throat.

Kissing up his neck and jaw, Angel kisses him deeply. Spike moans into the kiss, holding to him. He can feel that Angel's in charge of himself again, more or less. Angel pulls away from Spike's mouth and starts to kiss back down his throat when he freezes. "Oh God."

"What?" Spike asks, voice still hoarse with need.

"Oh shit." Angel pushes himself up to stand, staring down at him, horrified. "Oh god. I'm sorry...I shouldn't have..." He starts to babble pushing away from Spike. Spike closes his eyes and sighs, his own hard cock still throbbing, Angel's cum on his belly.

"Yeah." His entire face is resigned. "Should've known. Don't worry about it, Angel. Just forget it happened." He grabs his T-shirt, starting to wipe the sticky fluid from his belly.

Not really hearing him, Angel continues to babble, deep in guilt mode, as he struggles back into his trousers. "You've been...and now I've...oh god...and you're hurt...I'm such a bastard...I'm so sorry..."

Spike shakes his head. "S'awright. I told you to." He reaches down to pull on his jeans. He picks up the now-useless boots, trying to remember if he has any extra laces anywhere.

"Huh?" Finally taking notice of Spike Angel finds himself distracted by his lean chest as he moves. His demon is much happier, now that it's his scent on his childe, overpowering that of the foolish human.

"I told you to use me and you did." His voice soft and dead-sounding

"Use...you...?" Angel repeats. "Oh god. I'm sorry!" Twisting his hands together he takes a step back towards the younger vampire. "I'm sorry, I'll make it up I swear...I mean, I mean I'll *try* and make it up."

"Don't worry about it, Angel. I'm used to it by now. You don't have to pretend what you said meant anything."

Staring at him, Angel's mouth opens and closes a few times, feeling lost as to what he should say or do. "B...b...but I did...mean it." His voice is small, almost soundless to even vampire hearing.

"So you meant what? You want me back?" Spike moves to look him in the eye. "You cum and two seconds later you can't even bear to touch me."

"That's not it!" Angel cries, eyes wide. "You...you've been...hurt...I shouldn't have..."

Spike chuckles darkly. "Me being hurt never stopped you before. Most times I even begged for it."

Swallowing, Angel shivers at his tone. "I didn't have a soul...I *made* you like it...oh god I'm such a monster..." His tone is filled with self-loathing.

"Not for the reason you think." Spike moves against Angel, pulling Angel's hand down. He pressed the hand against his jeans-covered erection. "This is who I am. This is what you do to me. When you decide if you can handle me, when you really think you can carry through on what you said... you let me know. Because I've *never* stopped being your boy."

Angel's breath catches and he moans deep in his throat. Flecks of amber appear in his wide eyes as he holds Spike's gaze. He's caught in the blue of Spike's eyes, frozen with crippling need. Need for his boy, need for his bitch of a sire who's been tormenting him for weeks now, need to choose the right thing, need to give in to the urgings of his demon. Need for the decisions to be taken from him. "Will..." He groans, a desperate strangled sound.

Spike lifts his other hand, long fingers stroking over Angel's lips. "Shhh. I know. Wish I could just tempt you to drag me upstairs and fuck me until you can't bear to let me go. But you have all the considerations, these duties. I can't force you to do anything. God knows if I thought I could I wouldn't have let a hundred years pass. Just... think about it." He pulls away and grabs his boots, walking from the room. His cum-spattered T-shirt is still lying on the desk.

Shaking, Angel collapses into his chair. After a moment he reaches out slowly for Spike's shirt. Lifting it to his face he inhales deeply. "Will." He moans pitifully. His eyes fill with tears and he closes them tightly, dropping the shirt to the desktop he buries his face in it, his arms curled protectively around the material.