Umm, the title came from umm...well, I heard the pill was called 'little blue pill' but if I'm wrong...well, I just made them be blue, okay??

Pairing: Spike/Angel, Angel/omc (briefly, like fifteen minutes, lmao) and Angel/pretty much everyone he knows at Wolfram & Hart
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Er, there's lots of sex, although most of it's implied, but umm...there's Spike abuse. Poor little Spikey.

The lovely, luscious kitty_poker1 beta'd it, of course.

Author's note: I wrote this for toobusy2write's birthday. Which is August 22. That's two months away. I figured start early, there's no fucking telling when I'll get it completed. So. I'm starting the posting of this on my birthday two months ahead of Kat's. I'm really off but what the hell.

This is for Kat :)

If it sucks I apologise in advance. Even my beta isn't omnipotent.

Read through by toobusy2write.

Little Blue Pills

by
Eyezrthewindows

Part One

"Look, just give me the sodding pills. I know you've got them. You've got resources out your ass here. Wolfram & Hart can get anything. It's not like it's stealing. I'm asking you for them, not sneaking in to nick them behind your hunch-backed, scrawny bum. Plus, me old sire runs this building and I'm sure he wouldn't care. He wouldn't even have to know. It'll be between you and me, our little secret."

Come on, dammit. They're just some sodding pills! Fork them over or I'm going to...

...do something really bad like...

Bloody hell. The soul's made me soft.

I'll remove his stumpy digits, that's what I'll do!

Spike raised an eyebrow, hiding his inner turmoil expertly, then rolled his eyes at the speculative gleam and assessing look that roved his body and stopped on his crotch.

The little man raised an eyebrow and stared at Spike with vivid green eyes that made the vampire uncomfortable.

This was really starting to piss Spike off. He'd stood there begging, coercing, cajoling, charming and finally threatening the little garden gnome of a man and he'd gotten nowhere fast.

It was getting really old. He didn't have time for this shit. He shouldn't have to go through so much to get something so simple.

He wondered if anyone would miss this little toad if he splattered his guts all over the sterile, white walls.

Growling, he fought the urge to cover his crotch. "Stop bloody looking at me like that. I know what you're thinking, you sweaty, tiny, little monkey tosser. Look, it's not for me, is it? I don't need it, obviously. I'm a ruddy vampire. Vampire's don't get impotent. Don't even know the sodding meaning of the word. Don't need an enhancement for my already impeccable sexual prowess! Can get it up at the drop of a hat! Just give me some."

When that reaped no result, he tried a new tactic. He was desperate. Well, sort of.

"They're for a mate of mine...yeah, he has problems with performing. See, he's old and gloomy -- which makes him right depressed at not being able to get it up -- and has no taste in music or hair-cuts. He wears a lot of hair-gel and the like and these poufy designer clothes and I think he's gay but poufters need love to, don't they? Even if it's chemically-induced love. And, besides, there's lots of old farts here at W&H...bound to be a whole fucking load that need the stuff to get their ends away, right?"

The little, bug-eyed science technician feigned a cough to cover his laughter, his shoulders shaking silently.

"Anyway, can I get about half a dozen? He might want it more than once, right? Can get his own prescription after that lot's gone. Wanted to give him a pressie for his, uh, birthday. Thoughtful of me, ain't it?"

Spike stood impatiently in front of the little man, wanting to growl and rip him apart and spread his body parts and various fluids all over the place and just bloody well take the sodding things, because what was worth this embarrassment and hard work?

Well, it really would be worth the effort if he could just get the fucking things!

The man pursed his lips, shook his head in amusement and put down the clip board he was holding. He tucked his pen away into a pocket protector-lined lab coat pocket. "I suppose I could...just this once. Mr. Angel won't be happy if I give you more than that. Nor would Ms. Burkle, for that matter. The science department isn't for handing out freebie drugs and that's not for fun. This is serious business. We're trying to--"

Spike waved an impatient hand, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, you got to find cures for ruddy diseases or create them and test them on the unwitting general population or something. Just need the pills, mate, don't need a lot of jabbering about the boring shite you do here. Really don't care. Have places to be."

The little man huffed out a loud sigh and walked toward a cupboard with transparent doors that Spike could see held hundreds of different pills in little vials.

A veritable candy store.

Spike watched avidly, licking his lips, hands in his duster pockets.

The little man took out a tube, counted out precisely six blue pills and then put them in another little container for Spike to take. He waddled back to Spike's side and held out the pills.

"Just one in a twenty-four hour period. There are unpleasant side-effects if this isn't followed. Could be quite harmful to some...or merely unpleasant to others with...better constitution."

Spike narrowed his eyes and snatched the vial. If he didn't know better he'd think that little git thought it was him that needed Viagra!

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, thanks. I'll be on my way, then. Thanks and all that shit. Later, Erkel."

Spike shoved the container into one of his duster pockets and swiftly made his exit, duster tails flapping dramatically behind him.

Unpleasant side-effects, eh?

Spike's lips curved into a pleased grin.

After grinding up the six pills and scraping the powdered dust back into the tiny bottle the little man had given him, Spike made his way into the head faculty lounge where the higher-ups did their lunching and fucking about -- it was the same one where Angel's blood was kept. He ignored the old woman eating a tuna salad sandwich that stank to high hell and made his way straight for the refrigerator where the easily spoiled things were stored.

He found the thermos with Angel's blood easily enough -- it had girly unicorn stickers stuck all over its masculine silver surface with 'Angel' in bubble script along the side in Harmony's handwriting. Taking off the top, he poured the contents of his hard-won drugs into the mink blood and shook it slightly to help mix it in. He put the cap back on, shook the blood really well and replaced it on the top shelf in the fridge.

It was only minutes before Harmony was due to come down for Angel's lunch -- he'd timed it just right -- so Spike hid around the corner from the lounge. The bitch didn't so much as bat an eye in his direction when she finally appeared, sashaying on too-high, pink heels and a short skirt that had Spike cocking his head and examining her long legs and ass. She went straight for the thermos, poured some blood into a large mug with the words 'World's Greatest Boss' engraved on the side, heated it, and then tottered back to the elevator.

It was a wonder she was even still alive. She had the instincts of a lemming. Of course, she hadn't had a real sire and when Spike was with her for those few months -- after he'd apparently lost his mind and taste in women -- all he'd taught her was the best way to give him a good blow-job and get him off; he hadn't cared if she survived after he was through with her.

He shook himself silently and headed for the stairs. He made it to the twenty-seventh floor long before the elevator did -- sometimes it was a really fucking brilliant thing to be a vampire. He waited, propped against the stairwell door, and watched through the tiny window as Harmony took her sweet time walking to Angel's office to give the old sod his lunch.

By the time Harmony came bouncing out of Angel's office after leaving his meal, Spike was ready to run out and rip off her head. Or maybe just wrench off a limb or two and beat her unconscious and bloody with them.

She pranced her way to the ladies' room -- who the fuck knew why, though, because she had no reflection and she certainly didn't need to piss or take care of nasty human stuff; Spike thought she just liked to waste time and pretend she was off doing things so she wouldn't look entirely incapable and as dim as she was.

Spike breathed a sigh of relief as she disappeared, coming out from his hiding place and walking nonchalantly to Angel's office.

He stopped at the door, listening, then pushed it open and went inside. He wasn't going to miss the consuming of the spiked blood, not even if the world was going to end in the next ten minutes.

Angel took a drink out of his mug, frowning slightly and smacking his lips as if he tasted something funny, then set it down on his desk to look at Spike.

"What the hell are you doing in here, Spike? I thought you were off making the most of being newly corporeal. Getting drunk, whoring around, starting bar fights, getting some clothes that are from this decade, dying your hair a colour that's not radioactive retro... Which meant you were out of mine for a change."

Spike nearly bit his lip in two trying to keep from laughing or making a comment about Angel's own coiffure -- he didn't want to offend the older vampire and get himself thrown out before the fun started.

He didn't take any offense at Angel's insults, anyway; he knew he looked good.

"Got bored. Nothing to do. Got no money to buy booze or, well, anything. No place to stay. Have ended up wandering the bloody streets and the halls of this mammoth building more than a time or two. Most clubs charge you just to go in, so I can't even go into strip clubs to just watch the naked birds dance around." He shrugged and walked over to the couch. He flopped down on it, spread his legs and eased down into the leather. He sighed in bliss, resting his open hands palms down on his thighs. "Figured I'd just stick around and see what's what. Maybe get in on a little demon killing or something. Got anything to kill? Damsels in distress to save? Puppies or kiddies? Anything out of the ordinary?"

He eyed the mug, trying to telepathically influence Angel into finishing it off. It didn't work and his brain started to hurt after a few moments due to the strain but he would sit there until Angel finished it and something happened because he deserved a good laugh.

He couldn't wait to see what six Viagra pills did to a vampire.

They sat in silence for several minutes, playing the staring game, or the brooding, glowering game in Angel's case. Spike wanted to get up and walk around or leave or jump on Angel and start beating the hell out of him, force that blood down his throat while he was at it, but he had to bide his time.

He sighed. This was why none of his plans ever succeeded. He just didn't have the patience to follow through. He was too fidgety and enjoyed getting physical in various ways.

Angel was such a cool, bloody character. Spike wondered how he managed to sit so ruddy still all the time.

Angel drummed his fingers on his desk and finally, after a heavy glare at the shockingly quiet Spike, he picked up the mug and finished the blood in two big gulps.

Spike's lips threatened to curl up but he forced a blank expression on his face by thinking about how Angelus used to steal Drusilla from him, torture and brutalize her and make him watch while chained to the wall.

"Spike, get out. I have things to do that require concentration and I sure as hell can't do that with you here. Go do something else. In fact ..." The brunet stood up and dug into his pocket. He paused, frowning, eyes taking on a faraway look. "Uh, here," he said, throwing a wad of cash onto the desk top. He didn't look at or count it. "Go out and, um, uh, drink it away. Go to a-a...strip club."

Angel licked his lips and shifted, then sat down heavily in his chair, giving Spike a strange look.

Spike's face threatened to crack from its somber expression. He knew what was going on -- he could smell it, nearly taste it in the air. The Viagra was already kicking in and Angel hadn't a fucking clue what was going on, what was making him feel like he was.

He stifled his grin of triumph and stood up, stretching. He pulled all his muscles taut, throwing his arms over his head and luxuriating in the loosening of his limbs after having been tense for, oh, since the day he'd been recorporealized. As he put his arms down, he caught Angel staring at his crotch and raised an eyebrow.

Well, that was unexpected. Old and familiar territory, that.

His jaw clamped shut and his lips tightened.

He didn't want to go there. Too many bad memories to deal with.

Angel would just have to get himself another shag toy because Spike wasn't going to take his shit anymore.

He stalked the two paces it took and grabbed the cash but Angel's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist before he could fully pull away and trapped his hand between the desk and Angel's. It stayed there, heavy and smooth and...rubbing lightly against his flesh. Spike swallowed and looked away from their hands. He tried to wrench his from beneath Angel's but the elder vampire held on tightly, fingers gripping but not hurting.

"What? Let go of me," Spike asked, disgruntled and more than a little wary. "What are you doing, ponce?"

This wasn't turning out the way he'd planned.

Angel's finger tip caressed Spike's flesh so lightly he almost thought he was imagining it; he fought back a shiver. And then he was released and Angel was shoving himself up underneath his desk trying to hide his erection despite them both being vampires with enhanced senses.

Spike could smell the arousal starting to pour off the other man, cloying and musky and sweet, and it was far too familiar to ignore; his own cock was hardening with sympathy.

"Nothing. never mind."

Spike hurriedly grabbed the cash and backed away silently. He took a deep breath and stared at Angel, who stared right back.

What he was feeling at the moment scared him. He hadn't felt anything like it since before Angel had gotten his soul. Vestiges of their relationship from the days when everything was all fun and bloody, gory games reared its ugly head; it was like a living thing, large and imposing and impossible to ignore.

Christ. Gotta get out of here. Now. Fucking right now.

Don't need this shit.

Certainly don't need Angel coming onto me. Not like he cares anything about me. Stupid pills, anyway.

Stupid, fucking idea.

Let Angel get his leg over someone else. Won't be me.

Not ever again.

He doesn't have the bloody right to do this.

He turned around, heart in his throat, and got out of there as quickly as possible without losing face. Took the cash and split to the nearest dark, dank bar in one of Angel's cars.

He didn't head back to the building until he'd drunk enough to forget about the stupid, poncey feelings he was having.

Or at least until he could pretend he'd forgotten them, anyway.

I've got to get a bloody hobby.

Spike was just drunk enough to list to one side when he walked but sober enough not to crash the Viper he'd stolen from the garage; by the time he was finished boozing it up and felt he could return to the house of horrors, Wolfram & Hart, more than three hours had passed and he was feeling no pain.

If I had a sodding hobby I could get the fuck out of here and not have to deal with Angel.

Stupid nonce.

He perked up a little as he remembered the Viagra, punching the elevator button to Angel's floor a little too hard. The plastic cracked; his finger throbbed.

Wonder if he's too guilty to even wank off.

Would serve the pillock right. All that pent-up frustration and sexual tension, killing him in those eight-hundred quid trousers of his.

Spike snickered and leaned against the side wall of the elevator, watching with glazed, crossing eyes as the digital numbers changed while the lift rose.

When the car jerked to a halt at the twenty-seventh floor, Spike nearly fell on his face.

Okay, maybe he was more drunk than he'd thought.

He lurched out as soon as the doors slid open and was immediately assaulted with the over-powering smell of sex.

Sex?

What the bloody fuck?

He can't have, can he?

The curse...his guilt...

Couldn't he wait ten minutes? Jesus effin' Christ.

Spike's jaw tightened. He tried to crush the tearing feeling of disappointment at Angel having taken someone that wasn't him.

Sod the old fucker, anyway.

If he loses his soul after getting a leg over with one of his little flunkies, that ain't my bloody problem, is it?

'Course, I'll have to stake the bastard. Angelus was absolutely no fun last time he came a-visiting.

He felt a sharp pang in his heart at the thought of having to kill his sire.

He saw Harmony smiling, nearly skipping down to the coffee machine, cheeks rosy, eyes twinkling with...something. She was awfully bouncy.

He raised an eyebrow and bumped into a potted plant because he'd been watching her instead of where he was going; he pushed the fronds out of his face with a scowl when he righted himself, then kicked out at the pot and nearly fell on his ass for his attempt at retaliation.

He nearly collided with a partition that came out of nowhere when he got back on his feet and knocked his knees and a sensitive area of his body into Harmony's desk while he was trying to navigate the foyer.

He finally stopped against a wall just short of Angel's closed door, resting and trying to get his bearings.

The stench of sex and spunk was heavy and cloying and Spike was pissed as well as...pissed. Pissed and really fucking angry.

All he'd wanted was for the pouf to get horny and desperate and start getting snippy with people, maybe cancel a few meetings, have a wank-off session up in his pent house suite, unable to get soft because of the drugs, go insane from the frustration. Something. But, apparently, his old sire wasn't as prone to brooding and self-flagellation as Spike had thought.

Or even self-restraint, for that matter.

Angel was such a disappointment. That was nothing new, though.

God, he was too fucking drunk for this. He was acting like a complete ponce over absolutely nothing.

Spike banged his head lightly on the door, staggering a little as the world seemed to pitch and slide and whip around wildly.

He could smell...

Spike's eyes widened and his head drew back abruptly on his neck.

"It couldn't bloody be," he whispered.

It just fucking couldn't.

He smelled Angel's cum and the stench that he'd never forget as long as he lived -- Harmony's bitterly sweet cunt!

"No fucking wonder the bint's so perky and bouncing around like she hadn't a care in the world. Got poked but good by Angelus. Fucking wanker. Stupid, brain-dead slut."

He hiccuped for emphasis and then started to pull open the doors. Then he smelled it.

Or more accurately: he smelled lots more.

He could smell Gunn and Fred and that Knox bloke and even the uptight, freakishly unbalanced ex-watcher who always smelled like desperation and loss, Wesley.

Bloody hell, he's gone and shagged his whole ruddy team!

Wonder how he did it...got them to accept. Surely, they think he's under some sort of magical influence...or Angelus or something...

Fucking Christ.

He leaned his face against the cool wood and propped himself upright to get the floor to stop spinning and making his head feel funny. He felt kind of woozy. He really hoped he didn't puke his guts up all over everything.

That would really be the icing on his day of crap cake.

"Oh, Angel!"

Okay. He took that back. This was probably the icing.

Spike jerked away from the door so abruptly he immediately fell flat on his back, arms pin-wheeling as he tried to catch himself on nothing. He lay stunned on the floor, eyes glazed and staring wildly at the ceiling while he heard his ass of a sire go at it with that green, horned demon -- with the fashion sense of a colour blind, she-male Cher! -- Lorne.

There were breathy moans, high-pitched cries, and thanks to incredibly sensitive vampire senses -- Spike whimpered and threw an arm over his eyes as if he could block the mental images the sounds were producing -- he could hear the slapping and squelching of wet flesh and the squeaking of the leather couch in Angel's office.

Doing Kermit on the very couch Spike had been on mere hours earlier, was he?

Fucking liked that couch. Wanted to shag on it myself.

What a selfish pillock.

Spike fumed, then sighed, saddened. He always got melancholic and maudlin when he drank. Now, he knew why he didn't do it around people.

"Ooooooohhhh, Angel-cakes, I don't know what's gotten into you today," a high-pitched whine and extra hard panting and smacking were heard by a pouting, drunken Spike, still prone on the floor, "but -- oooooh, harder, honey bear, work those tight, clenching buns like they've never worked before! Give it to me! That's it, baby -- I'm really liking it!"

And then came familiar grunting and groaning noises and Spike knew Angel would cum soon. But the anagogic demon came first. He gave a musical howl, voice singing out in perfect tone and key, and then Angel was growling in that prehistoric, caveman way he had.

Then: silence. Relatively, anyway.

Spike blinked into his duster sleeve, listening to the combined panting of Lorne and Angel, whose was tapering off. Then, the couch squeaked and they got up and...Spike didn't want to be there anymore. Didn't want to think about what had gone on, what they'd done, the noises they'd made, the pleasure they'd felt.

Really didn't want to think about Angel screwing his demon friend into the floor while Spike laid out there in the office foyer unsatisfied, still drunk and very grumpy.

Stupid, goddamned, sodding, pile of shit pills. This was supposed to be fun, dammit! Why do I even care?

Stupid ponce.

Fucking whore, he is. Couldn't even keep it in his pants for two seconds after I left, could he?

Where's the fun in this bullshit?

He's supposed to be righteous and good and...bloody celibate! Not fucking all his friends and anyone he can set his beady, little eyes on!

I mean, what the hell've they got that I don't? Imagine I'm prettier...tighter, too, probably.

Not to mention he knows me better than anyone, ever...

Sad git that I am...well, he could've had me.

You are a loser, William. A fucking pathetic excuse for...

Yeah, there really are no words.

"Tosser," he muttered -- to himself, to Angel -- rolling over just in time for the door to open and for Lorne and Angel to be graced with the back-end view of Spike trying to get to his feet despite his still overly-drunk state.

"Oh, pumpkin! Let me help you up. You smell like a distillery. Things going okay? You don't look so hot, sweetie."

Lorne helped Spike to his feet and the blond only allowed him to because he couldn't seem to find his footing on his own. Not that he couldn't have in...time, he just didn't feel like waiting for it to happen on its own.

"Yeah, just bloody peachy." He detached the green hands roughly from his sleeve and stepped quickly away, nearly too quickly because he almost went down on his ass again. "I'm alright. Don't need no help. Just fine." He took a deep breath and finally met the concerned, red eyes that were staring at him sympathetically, assessing penetratingly, disconcertingly. "Stop fucking staring at me, Nancy, go on about your business. You could probably do with a good hot soak in a tub, though, yeah? He was never gentle with that monster dick of his, back when I was intimate with it. Bit sore, aren't you?"

Lorne's eyes widened and his skin flushed a dark green. He shifted uncomfortably. "Well..."

Spike waved a hand, nearly hitting the brightly -- re -- dressed man on the nose. "Anyway, believe I'll get the fuck outta here." He squinted at Angel, who had remained a silent wraith behind Lorne, shirt buttoned awkwardly, buttons in the wrong holes. He pointed at his sire, angrily. "Hair's all-all flat and not up to your usual stanzards. Might want to get that fiiissed before someone sees you. Well," he chuckled bitterly, "someone else, anyway. 'M sure enough people's seen you like that already, eh? Had a whole troop of bloody people in there, haven't you, peaches?"

The blond turned on unsteady legs and made for the elevator before he said too much. Lorne frowned and, even in his inebriated state, Spike could feel that gaze heavy between his shoulder blades as he staggered inside. He punched a button -- didn't care where he went, just wanted out of there -- and looked up just in time to see Angel and Lorne both watching him. He lifted two fingers and smirked at them both as the doors shut on their...concerned faces.

Angel's hard-on was still amassing its own zip-code, even after all that shagging he'd done.

Serves him right.

The blond leaned heavily against the wall, unable to stay upright on his own anymore.

I'm not nearly pissed enough. Need more ruddy booze. And to find some place of my own.

Maybe I could get the hell out of this town. Angel told me to get the hell out anyway. Doesn't want me here.

Said he'd even give me dosh if I did.

Should probably reconsider his offer.

Spike sighed and slid down the wall, puddling limply to the floor. He watched blurry numbers change, frowning when he found he couldn't make out where he was going because they'd turned into unreadable glyphs formed with crawling ants that wouldn't stay still. Shrugging, his eyes shut and he suddenly didn't care anymore.

Looks like damn Chinese. Don't know Chinese.

When'd they start marking floors with effin' Chinese?

As long as it was away from Angel and his den of debauchery and whoring, he didn't give a fuck.

It never occurred to him that he was being very hypocritical; he was too drunk for proper thinking.

He slipped into blissful unconsciousness just as the doors binged merrily and then slid open, sagging wearily against the wall, chin to his chest; he had a vague sense of them re-closing and then the elevator was ascending.

After that, he knew no more.

Until he began to regain consciousness and his head felt like it was imploding and exploding simultaneously.

Christ, what split my head open and shit where my brains are supposed to be?

Not a good feeling, this. Fuck.

He groaned and shifted on the soft...couch he was lying on? He frowned, eyelids fluttering open slowly. His sensitive retinas were immediately seared by the sunlight coming in through those neat necro-tempered glass windows that he'd found so fun before he'd drunk a whole liquor store full of alcohol and was now officially dying a slow, agonizing death.

Through slitted eyes, he looked around and found himself to be in Angel's office on the couch.

How'd I get in Angel's office and on his couch? Last thing I remember was being in the lift...

And then he recalled what had happened on said couch and leapt from it as if it were on fire, promptly falling on his face in an uncoordinated heap.

Oh, that's not good for the old stomach...or the aching, throbbing thing that's taken the place of my head.

"Urgh. Fuck."

"Graceful as ever, Spike. And what a way with words, too."

Spike started at his sire's voice.

Crap, Angel was there with him.

That's it, I'm laying off the booze. If I can't sense the poufter when I'm a little bit drunk then I don't need to be drinking.

Used to could handle it a lot better.

Soddin' soul must've somehow compromised my damn constitution.

Didn't know that could happen. Another reason for me to hate the soul.

Why'd I get that poncey thing again?

Oh, right. It was an accident.

Was drunk then, too.

And there's another reason to lay off the sauce.

Not to mention all the brain-searing pain and violent nausea...

Don't remember feeling this bad since...back when the chip was a new experience.

Oh, and let's not think about migraine's at a time like this. It'll make the being sick worse.

Spike lay face down for several moments, collecting himself and trying to get various limbs to respond. He was still mildly -- okay, that would be down-playing his condition a lot -- drunk and his body wouldn't work right.

Oh, he really hated this part.

He finally puffed up his cheeks with an un-needed breath and then let it out slowly as he pushed himself up carefully from the hard floor. He sat back on his haunches and rubbed an unsteady hand over his face.

He smelled arousal. Angel's arousal. Again.

If it ever went away in the first place.

Christ, when was the Viagra going to wear off? This wasn't funny anymore. It had been ages.

He'd show Angel a fucking way with words, all right. If he could rise without throwing up everywhere and spoiling the triumphant moment.

"Yeah, could be a bloody ballerina, me. How'd I get here? In point of fact...why am I here? Last thing I remember was being in the lift."

Angel sat forward in his big, commander-of-everything-and-everyone chair, fingers steepled against his chin, eyes dark and unreadable, as usual. "You passed out in the elevator. I had Harmony call down to the control office and bring the car back up. I dragged you out and tossed you onto my couch to sleep it off. Better you be here than in everyone's way in the elevator."

Spike's lips thinned and he glared at Angel, eyes full of hatred and hurt. "Yeah, wouldn't want me to be in everyone's way. Would've rather been in the sodding lift being trampled on by your minions than be on your shagging sofa! Don't know why the hell you brought me back here, anyway. Not like you give a care." He sighed and got to his feet, unsteadily. "Look, I'll leave. Give me some cash and I'll get the bloody hell out. Mexico's good this time of year. Figure I can go down there and get pissed all I want, not botherin' no one, might I add. Think five grand would do me a while? Five quid'd probably get me five bottles of tequila, cheap as shit is down there." He stared off into space.

Angel sat up straight, big caveman brow puckered in a frown. "Is that what you want? To go south and drink yourself into oblivion?"

Spike's eyebrow quirked; he stared at Angel with open arms and twitching fingers. "What the bloody hell else have I got to do? There's nothing for me anymore. I should've stayed dead, is what I should've done. Should've let Pavayne take me. Should've destroyed the ruddy amulet. Should've tossed the envelope out with the other shite that day instead of bloody opening it. This existence...it's shit. I don't know why you let me stick around when I got here and finally got all corporealized. You hate me so bloody much. Haven't let me forget it day after bleeding day." He cleared his throat and blinked suspiciously wet eyes as he wobbled on his feet. He held out a hand. "So, if you'll give me that dosh, I'll be on my way and hopefully we'll never see hide nor hair of each other ever again."

Angel pushed his chair back and stood up. Stalking around his desk, he moved to the front of it and propped his ass against the edge. He crossed his arms. "Spike."

Spike's wavering vision settled on Angel, seeing nearly double the normal amount of sire. He scowled. "What?"

"Shut the hell up."

"Hey, you git, you can't tel--"

"I'm your sire, Spike, I can tell you whatever I goddamned well please. Shut. Up. I have some things to say and I don't want to be interrupted."

Sullen, Spike pouted and crossed his arms in front of him but not before nearly ending up on his ass again as he over-compensated and his arms flailed out. He settled back in place, rocking back and forth, pissed at Angel and the world but especially at Angel. He glared at his sire because everything was his fault.

Always bloody was his fault. Soul or no soul, he's the ruination of every-sodding-thing ever!

"First, I've had some interesting...symptoms take hold today that won't be alleviated, no matter what I do. I was wondering if you wouldn't happen to know anything about that..."

Spike's anger dissipated somewhat and he had to bite the inside of one cheek to keep from giggling like mad at Angel's 'symptom' -- he could see the bloody symptom bulging out from between those tree trunk thighs of his sire's.

He opened his mouth to respond, after forcing his mirth down deep even with the alcohol-loosened hold he barely had on his emotions, but Angel waved him silent with one of those giant, long-fingered hands of his.

"No. I don't want to hear it. I know you've had a hand in this. This is just your style. Sneaky and under-handed. No one else would fuck with me this way. It's your m.o., Spike."

Spike's eyes widened innocently.

"Don't look at me like that, I know you're not guiltless. You never are! What the hell did you do to my blood? I thought it tasted off, figured it might be the container it was in but then a few minutes after drinking it..."

Spike's eyes widened.

A few minutes? It took only a few minutes to affect Angel? And then what? Angel waited a whole five minutes more after Spike left his office to grab the first body he could find and fuck it?

The blond glowered, then growled angrily, but said nothing.

Angel had told him to remain silent, hadn't he?

What the all-powerful Angel wanted, he got.

This time, anyway.

"What the hell did you put in my blood, Spike?" Angel repeated, angrily. "It wasn't poison, I know that much, because I've known various poisons and poisons don't have these kinds of side-effects. I've been hard for over four hours! It just won't go away no matter how much I...get off. No matter what I do."

Spike bit his lip, clenching his fingers into his leather-clad arms. His fingernails made divots in the leather but he didn't care at the moment.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourself, Spike? What were you hoping to gain by this little prank, huh? Wanted me to have trouble concentrating all day? You succeeded. Wanted me to fuck everyone I saw? Pretty much a given. All of my friends? They think I'm a fucking satyr, sex-maniac, now. Thanks for that." Angel's eyes narrowed. He pushed off of his desk and stalked predator-like to the silent Spike, who was staring burning holes into his flesh with pissed off blue eyes. "Well?"

Spike arched a sardonic brow and shifted in place. He wasn't about to give up any ground to Angel; the wanker didn't deserve being given that kind of power.

Angel's hackles rose. He grabbed Spike's crossed arms at the biceps and shook the shorter vampire until his clenched jaws loosened and his teeth rattled. His head flopped back and forth limply. "Say something, you little bleached shit! Don't just stand there like an idiot!"

Spike's vision swam, his stomach rebelled and Angel continued to shake him, oblivious to Spike's peril.

His eyes widened and then so did his mouth as he puked all over the both of them.

Angel stood there with wide eyes for a split second, shocked, then stepped hurriedly away from him as if burnt, but not quickly enough to evade the flood of vomit that now covered the front of his body and Spike's. His arms hung out from his sides, clothing and skin dripping with liquor and partially digested blood.

"Good fucking shit, Spike!"

Spike dribbled spittle and dark animal blood and booze from the side of his mouth. He wiped at it with the back of one hand, breathing heavily and staring at the mess with dilated pupils.

Oh, now that's nasty.

On the one hand, it was sublimely disgusting. It made him feel dirtier than he'd felt in a long time -- and that was saying something. He'd never cared for the bad points of being mortal, like this one -- being ill was disgustingly gross. He'd been glad he'd been made a vampire so he didn't have to deal with that shit anymore.

On the other hand...it was hilariously funny that he'd ralphed all over the front of one of Angel's posh, designer outfits and the look on the old ponce's face was priceless.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

He chose neither. He just stood there, staring in shock, dripping his own stomach contents all over, well, everywhere, throat burning, stomach churning, chest heaving in great gulps of air to try and settle the flip-flopping that went on inside him. His head pounded, throbbing much like the heartbeat he hadn't had in a century and some change.

"Spike, you little fucker. Look what you did to my Armani pants and the matching shirt! Not to mention my alligator skin shoes and silk socks. Do you know how much they cost? Do you?! Jesus!"

Spike suddenly felt weak, like he was being sucked down into the floor, his ears buzzing. He felt faint, disgusting and tired. With one last glassy-eyed look at Angel, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head as he swooned.

He fell backward, hitting his head on the table beside the couch with a sickening crunch that was damn sure going to smart once he regained consciousness. And then for the second time that day, he was still as the world turned static.

Bloody hell.

Part Two

Spike had no idea where he was when he finally regained consciousness. He hadn't even really known he was unconscious. He just felt like something really big had squashed his head in and he was left with mushed up brains and a shattered skull to deal with.

Oh, he really wished he hadn't woken up. He'd have been better off staying unconscious.

Then he realised someone was dabbing at part of his scalp, the part that really hurt. So, on top of the hang-over he was starting to experience even though he was still bloody drunk, he had a splitting headache that was getting worse every time that part of his head was touched.

He tried to open his eyes, tried to tell whoever it was to sod off that they were making his condition worse, but the light that seared into his corneas caused pain not unlike what he experienced when he'd had that fucking chip in his brain.

He ended up breathing deep and even and trying to stave off the nausea that rushed over him.

He groaned a little, trying to get away from the wet cloth that had been carefully blotting against his skin, but was only successful in making the situation worse.

Oh, he felt like hell.

"Ungh," was all he could manage.

"You're not going to throw up again, are you? I'd like a little warning next time so I can get as far away from you as possible... Are you conscious now or am I talking to myself?"

Might puke, might not. You'll be the second to know if I do the old technicolour yawn again. Git.

And, no, you tosser, I'm still in the land of nod dreaming the dream of the truly hang-over ridden. What the fuck do you think?!

Spike didn't actually say any of that, though, no matter how much he wanted to because he couldn't. He was still disoriented and in pain and unable to do anything other than flailing weakly about like a helpless infant and groaning in pain.

Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Laying here like a complete bint, sick and letting you touch me like you used to.

A chuckle met his pathetic attempts at communication and he tried to growl but it turned into puppy-ish whimper which made the deep laugh return.

"I forgot how cute you are when you're in pain...not to mention when you're not being an asshole."

Wanker. If I could remember where I am and who you are and get rid of this buggering headache, I'd show you a bloody thing or two.

Am not bloody cute.

"Here, lift up a little so I can get you into the shower. You puked all over the place and it stinks."

It was only then that Spike fully realised his position. He was naked and being cuddled in the arms of his equally naked sire.

He thought he'd felt air in naughty places but in the state he was in he couldn't be sure until now. He always did have problems with sussing out what was what when he was in this kind of condition.

Holy shit. When did this happen? Didn't think I was knocked out that long.

I always miss the fun parts. If this was, indeed, fun...

Why the hell did he undress me?

How could I have slept through that?

Why's he doing this anyway?

Some sort of personal gain, no doubt. That's all he's ever interested in.

Seems to be taking the puking on him thing and having to take care of me thing well, though...sounded amused, actually.

Got over the ruination of his poufy, expensive clothes real fast, dinnit he?

Snort. He's got a whole fleet of people to replace shit like that, now. Doesn't make a lick of difference in the long run if something gets fucked up.

Now, he's probably getting off on my pain. Like always.

Spike frowned and forced his lips to speak just one coherent sentence while Angel was man-handling him around like a completely bare-assed naked rag doll that weighed nothing. His naughty bits flopped against Angel's bare thigh and he felt a shudder but couldn't tell if it was him or Angel.

"Why'm naked?"

He heard a grin in Angel's response as he was propped limply against the cold shower wall while the brunet turned on the water and adjusted the temperature. Spike stood there shivering, head lolling to the side. Angel kept him pressed against the wall with one hand firmly in the center of his chest, otherwise he'd have toppled over and hurt himself again.

"Because you had vomit all over your clothes and it wasn't the most pleasant aroma. Did you want to stay drenched in disgusting stomach...stuff?"

Spike shuddered, swallowing back some bile. "No." Then, as he finally thought of something, "Why're you naked?"

"Because, Spike, I thought I was going to have to bathe your unconscious body and didn't want to bother putting anything new on because I'd probably end up getting it wet. Looks like I'm going to have to help you shower anyway, though...you don't look strong enough to hold a mug of blood much less keep from slipping and smacking your head on the tile. You really don't need to be knocked unconscious again. Even vampires have their regenerative limits."

Spike watched Angel's muscles move beneath his skin and bit his lip. "Where're my clothes? My duster better be--"

Angel interrupted, "Both sets of clothes are being decontaminated as we speak."

Spike breathed a sigh of relief and let Angel literally pick him up and place him in the shower cubicle. It was nice having someone take care of him like this. He might as well enjoy it while it lasted. "What happened to your office?"

He might as well continue making conversation and find out what happened because of his fuck up.

Yeah, he was nosy.

"My office is getting the scrub down of the century, steam-cleaned until the carpet's threadbare. Smells like a liquor soaked abattoir in there. You should've seen Harmony's face when she went in earlier. Was almost worth getting puked all over." Angel chuckled, manipulating Spike's body -- as he hadn't in a long time -- underneath the shower spray and reached for some poufy, expensive shower gel and a one of those puffs. "Now, stay still and let me do this. It won't hurt if you don't make me force you."

Spike was coherent enough to snort and shake with weak laughter. "Remember you saying that a time or twelve, Angelus."

Angel rolled his eyes and began to lather Spike's body. Once he was finished with the shivering blond's upper torso, he stopped. "Lean against me so I can get your back," he said, softly.

Spike didn't question the older vampire, he just did as he was told. He didn't have the energy to fight and that soft timbre was hypnotizing and relaxing and made him want to do whatever Angel asked. He'd probably kick himself later, though, because he wasn't interested in rekindling those kinds of feelings again.

All in the bloody past and all that.

He couldn't help but melt into Angel's hard body as Angel massaged the soap into his flesh -- it was familiar and tender and it made Spike hurt inside, aching for the long lost past. He leaned more heavily into Angel, cozying up to the larger man involuntarily. He propped his chin on Angel's shoulder and tried to stop from purring, as he'd done in this particular situation a century ago -- he didn't quite succeed.

Angel's hand stopped moving the puff and he froze at the vibration that went through his body.

Spike could feel the erection that hadn't quit since he'd given Angel that Viagra twitch against his pubic bone.

This was something he'd missed but would never admit to missing.

"Feels good, don't stop." He rubbed his face into the collar bone closest to his face, eyelids fluttering open briefly only to re-close because they were too heavy. His tongue flickered out and licked a few water droplets from Angel's skin.

Angel tensed, his entire body coiling tightly. His voice was gruff when he finally responded. "Spike." He cleared his throat. "What are you doing?"

Spike sighed. He was drunker than he'd thought, even after all the passing out and throwing up his body was still retaining the alcohol he'd ingested; he was still feeling a little woozy. He rubbed his hip against Angel's erection, felt his own slip up and down Angel's thigh. "Having a wash. Speaking of, why don't you finish cleaning my back? Felt good, sire. You feel good. Missed this."

Angel's swallow was very audible and it took him a moment but he hesitantly went back to washing Spike's back as the blond rubbed against him like a cat. His free arm tightened securely around the blond's waist to hold him close.

Moments later, just as Angel was getting to the good bits and Spike was starting to respond -- very nearly about to ask Angel to just take him and get it over with, his pride and their cocked up relationship be damned -- he either passed out again or fell asleep in the warm, wet embrace of his sire, who had shampooed his hair and was massaging his scalp gently, soothingly.

And, again, Spike woke up not knowing where he was. He was aware, though, of lying on the silkiest expensive sheets and the softest mattress he'd ever felt; he was covered to his bare chest in something incredibly soft and warm with a thread count higher than he could probably count to.

He also tasted mint. Angel must've brushed his teeth while he was unconscious.

Really good of him, actually, to do that.

Mouth tasted like crap earlier. Disgusting.

Groaning, he shifted, only to realise the heavy weight resting across him was a possessive arm; the limb tightly belted his waist, prohibiting any normal movement.

Good thing I don't have to piss. Or breathe.

His eyes opened slowly; his headache, thankfully, was only a pitter-patter of tiny, baby feet now and was nearly gone.

Vampire constitution is good for something, after all.

It was now dark, the unshaded windows allowed in the twinkling of stars and pale moonlight, all of which was much easier on his still sensitive eyes. Spike stretched and tried to remove himself from Angel's steel-like grasp but couldn't due to the older vampire's unyielding grip.

"Angel, lemme go," he muttered, pulling at Angel's fingers, pushing them backward to the breaking point until Angel yelped and yanked his arm away. Angel's recent perpetually hard cock slid into the crease between Spike's buttocks and they both froze.

Angel moaned and moved closer, lips grazing Spike's nape. "William..."

Spike's eyes widened, he felt desperation fill him. He started to struggle against Angel's body, only driving the other vampire into a frenzy as he rubbed his ass against Angel's arousal.

"No! Get off me, wanker! I'm only conveniently here. Go shag someone else. It's what you're good at, innit?"

Angel froze and then pulled away from Spike, frowning. "What the hell are you talking about, Spike?"

Spike's throat worked around the wad of tears that threatened to escape.

Brilliant. Bloody fucking brilliant, William, you pansy-ass Nancy boy!

"Nothing. Forget it. Let me up. I'll get out of your way. Need to borrow some clothes, though."

Angel sighed and sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Listen, Spike, why--"

"I don't bloody need to hear it. Just give me some goddamn clothes!" He flung back the covers, ignoring his nudity, and stood with his back to Angel, crossing his arms over his bare chest angrily. "Clothes, Angel."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Angel asked, even as he got up to search for some clothing for Spike. He found the smallest pair of sweat pants he could scrounge up and a blue t-shirt, shrunken in the wash when Cordelia had tried her hand at laundry, that he'd never found the heart to throw out. "Here."

Angel sighed when Spike didn't take the clothing from him and tossed it on the bed.

Without looking at him, Spike began to yank on the pants. "Nothing's wrong with me. Not a bloody goddamn thing, you wanker. Let me alone. I don't want to talk anymore."

As Spike drew the drawstring tight around his hips, Angel decided he wasn't going to take anymore lip from his recalcitrant childe. He moved with a burst of speed, almost a blur, to Spike before the younger vampire could pull on the t-shirt and grabbed his arm. He jerked the blond to his naked body. They both grunted from the impact.

He leaned down and spoke into Spike's ear, holding him tightly to his body. "I want to know what's going on. First, you do something to my blood that makes me fucking horny as hell. Non-stop. Can't get it down no matter what I do, or who I do, or how many goddamn times I do it! And now you're acting like a whipped little bitch. What the hell is wrong with you? You're acting like a jealous girlfriend!" Spike froze and Angel pulled back, regarding him silently, then a slow, predatory grin turned up one side of his mouth. "Is that it? Are you jealous, Spikey? Are you jealous that it wasn't you?"

Spike couldn't look away from Angel's penetrating gaze, no matter how smug and knowing it was.

He was screwed. And not in the fun way.

And then he got angry. He growled, shook off Angel's hands, backed away and grabbed the t-shirt. He held it up as if it would shield him and then started babbling because he didn't know what else to do. He knew that if he ran Angel would likely follow, even if he was completely balls naked.

"You waited, what? Fifteen minutes after I left your poncey, luxurious office and then shagged the first body you could find? That's showing some real restraint and, anyway, I thought you were celibate. Thought that was bloody mandatory or something. What the hell happened to that pesky little curse thing? You know, the thing those gypsies shoved up your ass for all eternity or till you got dusted; the one where, oh, I don't know, you lose your ruddy soul if you get the least bit happy during a shag?"

"I'll have you know, Spike, I lasted a full half hour before it became painful. I couldn't take it anymore and was about to jerk off when Wesley conveniently happened along around that time... He was surprisingly easy to seduce...let me fuck him across my desk. He was begging like a little bitch, thrusting that tight, little ass back into me as I plowed into him. He needed it so bad. It was a shock." Angel smirked, enjoying something that only Angelus would have years ago.

"And see, here's the thing: nothing's ever one hundred percent happiness. Buffy was a rarity. That kind of thing will never happen again. Too much has happened now for that. I don't believe in happiness like that, it just doesn't happen. I was naive and clueless and had no idea back then. I'd been wandering around mindlessly for over a hundred years and hadn't been told about the little happiness clause bit of my curse, anyway. Wesley, Gunn, Fred and Lorne are my friends, they understand. I don't think they exactly minded, either...if all the screaming and moaning and cumming were anything to go by."

Spike's grip tightened on the shirt, nearly tearing it. "You are such a prick. And what was Harmony, eh? What was she? Don't tell me you wanted her. Nobody really wants that dozy cow once they hear one word come out of her mouth. She's the dullest knife of the collection, mate. Once you get past the shagging, there's nothing else. Only so much of her you can stand."

Angel's bravado faded somewhat as a grimace of disgust momentarily melted the smug, angry elation that putting Spike in his place had brought. "She was there. Why else? It was convenient, like Knox was. She walked into my office to ask me something or other, I forget what, and I snapped. I was hurting again. I'd already screwed Wesley and Fred by that point, Gunn hadn't come into the picture yet -- and who'd have thought Gunn would let a male vampire fuck him, anyway? But, what could I do with that little blonde whore waving her cleavage in my face as she stood beside my desk and I sat there, hard and alone and needy and desperate? What could I do with her shaking her ass as she walked, those ample hips swaying delectably, just asking to be fucked six ways from Sunday? She's the most annoying person on the planet, but I'll say this for her: she's a good lay. Knows just what to do with that tight cunt of hers. But I'm sure you know all about that, don't you, blondie bear?"

Spike's spine straightened, eyes throwing bolts of electric blue diamond anger at Angel. He glared at his sire for a moment, then he tossed the shirt down and leapt at the brunet.

Angel didn't see it coming, didn't even expect it, so when Spike fell on him, angrily scratching at whatever naked skin he could find with his sharp fingernails, then hitting him repeatedly, Angel didn't do anything immediately to defend himself. He fell to the floor with Spike on top of him, knees on either side of his waist as he straddled him, and stared up at the angry blond as he tried pour out some of his rage into a beating.

Angel gathered his wits about him and grabbed at Spike's wrists before he could manage to hit him in the eye again; he bled from several wounds caused by Spike's sharp fingernails. He only succeeded in catching one of Spike's arms and the other continued to rain blows down on his face and chest and wherever else Spike could reach.

"Stop it! Stop it, you little pissant piece of shit!"

When that didn't work, Angel resorted to drastic measures. He was hard, horny out of his mind, pissed off at his asshole childe and what better way to shut him up and make him stop what he was doing?

Angel flipped them over so that he was on top, trapping Spike's flailing, bucking body underneath his own. He slid between those lean, muscled thighs, growling and sighing at the same time.

Familial familiarity.

He rocked his hips into Spike's erection, his own grazing against the almost rough material of his own sweats. He bit his lip and did it again, rotating his hips in a tight circle, hard.

Spike forgot what he was doing to gape in shock at Angel. "Whatthebloodyhellareyoudoing?"

It was so fast and so strung together that Angel almost didn't catch what Spike said through the haze of need and desire that had fallen over him but it finally registered. "What's it feel like, William?"

Spike's body went limp, his eyes searching Angel's. The anger evaporated and the heat between them rose a couple of notches. Spike licked his lips and Angel's searing gaze followed the pink tongue's path hungrily.

A few seconds went by as they both stared at each other, sizzling desire almost palpable between them, then Angel attacked Spike. He thrust his mouth down on the blond's, plunged his tongue inside, licked at his teeth, wrestled with Spike's tongue and then he tore at the sweat pants sitting low on Spike's slim hips. They were gone before Spike could even grasp at what Angel was doing in the first place.

But they were kissing. It was heat, silky, wet heat, and it was good neither one needed to breathe or someone would've been unconscious by now. It was as if they couldn't get enough of each other.

They had a lot to make up for after so long being apart.

Spike moaned and bucked up, arching into Angel's thrusts. He bent his knees and brought his legs up to wrap them around Angel's rib cage and then, suddenly, Angel's cock was thrusting against Spike's balls, hips working it down lower. It rubbed against the perineum, found a home between two smooth cheeks quivering with anticipation and then it was poking for entrance at Spike's tiny hole.

Angel started to get up and go for lubricant -- he was frenzied, in a state of mind where he almost didn't care if he ripped Spike wide open and made him bleed as he fucked him hard and fast -- but Spike stopped him and nudged up with flexible hips.

Apparently, the younger man just wanted it now. They were vampires, after all; a little pain was good.

Besides, he probably wouldn't have lasted long enough to get the damn lube.

Angel plundered Spike's mouth, deep and wet, and hungrily, then thrust his cock inside Spike.

There was no preparation, there was no getting ready for something like this. Spike just had to whimper and lie there and relax and let Angel in or he'd tear him to shreds; but he was anyway because he could feel it, could feel the sting of blood as he tore and Angel's cock broke him little by little.

But they couldn't stop now. He'd kill Angel if he stopped now. It was too good.

Angel moaned, pushing deep, knowing that he hurt Spike but he couldn't make himself pause. He seated himself fully in the tight sheath of Spike's body, burying himself as deep as he could get. When Spike's head turned as he tensed and groaned at the intrusion, Angel kissed the temple that was now near his face; tightly fluttering muscles grasped and clutched around him, made him gasp for unneeded air.

Spike's eyes clenched shut; the pain flared hot like lightning through his ass and this was vastly different than he remembered; it had been too long.

He tried not to tense but it was easier to think he wasn't going to than actually do it. He felt Angel pull out and push in again; the tingling burn was intense but he rode out the pain, welcomed the friction that caused false heat when the big, hard cock inside him created it with each forceful movement. He was filled as he hadn't been in so long and it was frightening because he'd missed it so much.

He hadn't missed feeling the desperate need for his sire, being weak like this, wanting Angel to take him and make him his.

But right now he couldn't stop feeling it.

Spike's back arched and Angel fucked him with harder and harder strokes that drove him roughly into the carpeted floor, making his skin tingle and burn. He gripped Angel's biceps, holding on with both hands and pressed his heels into Angel's ass to pull him even deeper.

Angel kissed him, long and wet, then Spike wrenched his mouth away. "Ooooh, fuck yes, Angel!"

Angel buried his face in Spike's neck and nipped the satiny flesh behind his childe's ear. He bit the earlobe, then sank still blunt teeth into the side of Spike's neck, suckling hard but not breaking skin.

Spike's moan was breathy and broke halfway through before he could finish it. He turned his head to give Angel better access and to hide his face so the other vampire wouldn't see his needy expression filled with soppy feelings he'd probably have used against him. He panted open-mouthed, the side of one sharp cheek bone rubbing hard against the carpeting; he'd probably have carpet burn there later.

Angel's body moved as if possessed, hard cock pistoning into Spike's now lubricated ass with the ease of a well-practiced and well-oiled machine. His thrusts were beginning to lose rhythm, though, as he was brought closer and closer to climax. He dug one set of fingernails into Spike's shoulder while the other ripped out tufts of carpet near a thrashing, blond head; his teeth worried Spike's neck.

Spike's cock was rubbed between two hard, muscular abdomens and, as he drew closer to his own orgasm, his balls rose and tightened and he didn't even have to think about touching himself or ask Angel to touch him. He was going to cum soon.

Just. One. More. Jab. To. His. Prostate. At. Just. The. Right. Angle. And Spike would be cumming so hard he'd blow his brains straight out his cock and all over their writhing bodies.

Angel pounded into him with merciless thrusts and, with a loud cry, he erupted between them. He thrust his ass up into Angel, tugging him closer, then fell spent to the floor, face blissful and lax, panting; his cock continued leaking cum as his orgasm ended, then stopped.

Angel's face shifted and he plunged his fangs into the unsuspecting Spike's neck. The blond tensed, eyes shooting open, wide and shocked, hands grasping hard at broad shoulders. He didn't know if he should try to push his sire away or pull him closer.

Angel came. He pushed hard one last time into Spike and drank deep from the vein he'd punctured.

Angel collapsed, fangs still embedded, body still linked to Spike's, crushing the younger vampire underneath him.

Spike lay wide eyed and just stared up at the ceiling. He bit his lip and shifted to get comfortable. Angel was crushing him with his great, fat ass.

What the fuck did I just do?

This can't end well. Me and people I've shagged always end in...well, my history just isn't great.

Stop dwelling on it, idiot. It's not like this meant anything.

Christ, this pillock is heavier than I remembered.

Angel pulled his fangs free and licked the wound closed. His face melted back into human and then he pulled free from Spike's body. His cock was, for the first time, completely flaccid, satiated.

He stood up and stared at the prone vampire thoughtfully. Offering a hand, which was hesitantly taken, he pulled Spike up. "I'll go order us some blood. You go ahead and shower. I think there are things we should discuss."

What the hell was there to discuss?

Spike's expression hardened. He let go of Angel's hand as though it was drenched in holy water and burned him just as bad. He nodded curtly -- there was little else he could do -- then turned from the other vampire's suddenly expressionless face.

He didn't like the look Angel was wearing. The older vampire was completely closed off and Spike knew he was getting ready to give him a boot in the ass and tell him to get the hell out. It was just a matter of time. Because when someone said they wanted to have a chat in that tone of voice, with that non-look...it was never good.

He showered slowly, weak-kneed, weak-spirited, feeling like shit even though he'd just had one of the best orgasms of his entire life.

Why does everyone bloody use me? It's getting old.

Other shoe's gonna bloody well drop, I know it.

But what's he gonna do to me?

What's gonna happen?

He washed more slowly than usual and didn't even really enjoy the heat.

Why am I such a fucking ponce?

I shouldn't even be dwelling on this shit.

Angel watched Spike trudge into the bathroom as if he had the weight of the world on those surprisingly broad shoulders of his. He frowned, sensing pain and fear and a desperation that made Angel stagger.

He shrugged. Spike was mercurial in his moods and Angel had never understood what motivated him. He reacted suddenly and with emotion Angel could never comprehend. He'd never get his childe. He never had.

Pulling on a robe, he went to the kitchen sink, wet a cloth and washed his bloodied cock. As he was washing, he felt a tingle and his dick started to fill and lengthen. Again.

It had only been five minutes!

"My God, again? What's it going to take to stop this? I can't go on like this for much longer. Jesus."

He called for the blood, absently ordering double what he normally had.

One last look at the closed bathroom door and he sighed, throwing the cloth down and tying the robe shut. A knock at the door pulled him from his brooding -- that was certainly fast -- and, making sure none of his private parts were showing, he opened it to sign for the blood.

A russet-haired young man with eyes so green they didn't look real stood at his door staring up at him from behind the push cart. It started his motor revving. He swallowed hard.

This wasn't good.

The other man smiled, nostrils flaring as he scented the air. An eyebrow rose. "Mr. Angel, I believe this blood is for you. Could you sign here?" He pointed to a line with an X in front of it and handed Angel the clipboard. He reached into a pocket and gave Angel a pen, warm hands lingering on cool ones long enough for Angel to start to grow uncomfortably hard and increasingly desperate. The boy eyed the tent beneath Angel's robe thoroughly. "You...smell nice, sir."

Those long eyelashes fluttered coquettishly and, as soon as Angel signed his name on the line, he tossed the clipboard on the cart and spun the boy around. He growled, "What's your name?"

"Mikel, sir," he breathed, not even attempting to fight Angel as the vampire pulled his pants down and pushed him against the wall, hard. Mikel spread his legs wantonly. "What do you want, sir?"

Angel growled, eyes flickering yellow. He untied his robe and his hard cock sprang out, slapping against one pale buttock in front of it. "What do you think I want, boy? I want to fuck you." He positioned himself, leaning forward to sniff at an arched neck. The boy smelled so damn good. "What are you? You smell so damn good."

"Morlesh, sir," Mikel gasped, as he felt Angel's cockhead graze his hole. He pushed back against it. "Please, sir, put that in me. I want it."

Angel's patience was wearing thin and he briefly considered just plowing in and splitting the boy open. He figured if he did that, though, blood would get everywhere. In the end, he decided to go as slowly as he could in hopes he wouldn't hurt either one of them too badly. No lubrication hurt him nearly as much as it did the person he was fucking but sometimes he just didn't give a rat's ass.

"Tell me a little about Morlesh, Mikel. Never heard of you before." He eased the head of his prick into the tight pucker and was surprised when it went in smoothly, almost as if it were lubricated.

Mikel grinned. "Well, we're pretty close to humans. Not much difference. Our blood's a little more pink than red, though, so we have to be, ungh," he grunted as Angel shoved his cock inside. He wriggled and spread his thighs further. "Have to be careful about getting hurt. There are little nuances of our demon nature that make us different. We live a lot longer than humans do but the difference I care about at the moment?" He squeezed his anal muscles and sighed as Angel began to thrust. "Morlesh males secrete lubricant when they're aroused. Real convenient."

Angel gasped, clutching at the slim hips in front of him. He pushed up the uniform jacket and the shirt and noted a line of small, dark brown, oddly shaped circular dots down the boy's spine that ended just above his buttocks. He leaned forward. "Take off your jacket and shirt, Mikel."

Mikel did as Angel said immediately and Angel was soon sucking at the back of the boy's neck as if trying to hoover off some of the strange birth marks.

Mikel shuddered, cock dripping more as arousal poured through him. "Just so happens," he panted, "those marks are very sensitive. They're like a real big g-spot connected straight to my co--oooh fuck, sir!"

Angel grinned into the flesh he'd bitten, feeling muscles ripple around his cock. He started thrusting hard. Mikel threw back his head, baring his neck and dragged dark fingernails down the wall, nearly tearing the wallpaper.

"I like you calling me sir, Mikel," Angel growled.

Mikel thrust back as Angel's cock plunged into him harder and faster. "Yes, sir!"

Spike finished his thirty minute shower feeling incredibly stupid. He'd been brooding like Angel the super ponce the whole time, feeling guilty and like dirt.

Really, what was Angel going to do? He'd instigated the whole thing! It wasn't Spike's fault.

And they'd had fun, after all.

The Viagra was his fault but Angelus had always been a big slut and there was nothing he could do about that.

Spike had just been caught in the cross fire. Shit happened.

He toweled off, running the fluffy towel over his head -- the riotous curls usually shellacked back stood on end all over his head -- then he ran the same towel over his body in a cursory sort of way.

He didn't see Angel anywhere but maybe the blood had come and he was seeing to it.

Coming out of the bathroom, he tossed the towel to the floor with a smirk. Angel would love that, what with his anal retentive obsessive compulsive ass.

And then he smelled it.

It.

Angel's bitter sweet arousal.

The fucker was aroused again!

"How many does that make in the last seven hours, mate? Don't know how your todger doesn't just fall right off."

With a feral grin, the blond moved toward the partially opened door, his own cock hardening in response to the scent of his sire's arousal. He stopped as he heard moaning and the slapping of skin against skin.

Then he smelled something else: arousal other than Angel's. And it sure as hell wasn't his own.

Spike's eyes widened.

That fucking prick!

Can't keep it to himself for two minutes!

His heart climbed up into his throat, esophagus tightening as if he could choke on the breaking pieces. He peeked through the two inches of open door and watched with increasing hatred as Angel fucked the delivery boy; the blood cart was only a couple of feet away.

It would've been hot had Spike not been so upset and pissed off. His sire and he had shared lovers many times, watching as the other fucked some helpless, hapless idiot who didn't know they were about to become a meal.

But this was different. They were different. They both had souls and...they were different, dammit!

Spike clenched his teeth so hard his jaw creaked and after a moment of watching Angel pound into the young humanoid demon he turned and walked back to the bedroom to fetch the kit Angel had given him earlier. He pulled on the sweat pants, tightening the drawstring with a hard jerk that nearly snapped it, then pulled on the t-shirt. He grimaced at what he probably looked like but he didn't care.

He found his boots on the other side of the room near a chair and slipped them on. Apparently, they hadn't gotten much vomit on them and they'd just been shined and sent up ahead of his clothes.

He made a mad dash for the bathroom and slicked back his hair. He didn't want to go out looking like a friggin' cherub, did he? The clothes were horrible enough.

Taking a deep breath, he headed back to the door, squared his shoulders and then pushed it open with a hard shove. It banged against the wall and startled the two rutting demons.

Angel looked up like a deer in headlights, freezing in mid-thrust, balls deep inside the red-haired boy. "Spike--"

Spike glared, snarling, "Don't talk to me, you git. I don't want to hear it. I'm outta here. You can shag any-bleeding-body you want. I don't care. It seems you don't either."

And with that, Spike punched the elevator button and then got inside when it opened. He didn't look at his sire as the doors closed.

Angel was torn between pulling out and running after his obviously upset childe or finishing what he'd started with Mikel.

Angel's mouth gaped open as he panted, staring at the closed elevator door, watching the lights indicate it was descending. His cock throbbed inside the boy's ass and he couldn't take it anymore. He started to thrust hard and fast, seeking out his orgasm because that was what he was compelled to do.

He wouldn't be any good if he didn't go ahead and get this over with.

He came a few moments later and it was the most hollow, unpleasant experience he'd ever had. Sure, he'd cum hard and it had felt good but he couldn't help remembering the look on Spike's face when he'd caught them.

Pure hurt drenched with betrayal.

The boy came when he did then redressed hurriedly as soon as he could get away from Angel. Mikel directed an awkward smile his way, then placed two canisters of blood on the floor near the door and called the elevator. Within moments, he was gone as well and Angel was left alone, his robe gaping open, quiescent cock still dripping cum down one thigh.

He was going to have to learn to keep it in his pants from now on, no matter how much it hurt.

"Fuck," he muttered and then went to shower the demon boy's smell from his body. He thoroughly washed his crotch but made sure not to touch his cock too much. He didn't want to accidentally start something again.

Angel went down to his office to try and get some work done. If he didn't touch himself and didn't think about anything even remotely sexual he'd be okay.

That was easier said than done, though. Angel hadn't realised what a huge undertaking that was. There was so much that could be construed as sexual...and Angel hadn't realised how much he thought about sex until now.

He was a big pervert.

That came with being a vampire, though.

Every movement he made rubbed the front of his boxer briefs against his sensitive cock, creased his pants and made them clutch around his aching groin like a hand, and it was driving him absolutely mad.

But he persevered and stuck to his office. Alone and uncomfortable tucked far up under his desk so he wouldn't be able to touch himself -- the desk was low and he'd never be able to jerk off beneath it. He finally had to resort to grabbing some ice from the mini-fridge and putting it in a baggy before placing it in his lap.

He didn't want to fuck up anymore.

Even though most of this was Spike's fault anyway.

He really needed to speak to his childe. He just didn't know where he was.

Or if he'd even talk to him.

Part Three

Spike didn't even leave Wolfram & Hart; he was too pissed to think that clearly and stalked from one floor to the next grumbling under his breath, ignoring the strange looks he received. He just followed his feet wherever they took him.

He ended up in some kind of strange holding area, like a jail cell only much cleaner and without the bars. It was reminiscent of the Initiative's sterile layout and brought back horrible memories of being awake during the experiments those psychotic doctors had done on him.

He spent a moment clenched and frozen in remembered fear until he had to forcibly push it away and focus on the anger he felt toward Angel; his anger helped him force those painful thoughts away.

He hunkered down on the floor, bracing himself in a corner, and hoped he wasn't bothered by anyone. He couldn't stay forever but he'd remain where he was until he figured Angel had forgotten about him or given up on searching, if he'd even attempted in the first place.

He didn't fool himself that his sire would be looking for him; Angel was too stupid -- or maybe too smart? -- to go looking for him when he was like this but it would've been kind of nice if he'd come bursting in at some point, trying to explain himself. To beg Spike's forgiveness.

Spike snorted and slid down the wall until he was seated on the cold floor. He drew his knees up to his chest, rested his chin on the soft material of the too large sweats and wrapped his arms tightly around them, linking his fingers together.

"In your dreams, ponce. You're wishing for things that would've never happened in the old days. Sure as hell wouldn't happen now. Angel's too good for you and he'd never stoop to begging...no matter how much he was wrong. Sorry's too good a word for that pouf."

There was nothing Angel could say that would make Spike forget what he'd done. The game was over and he was tired of it.

He wouldn't be used again. He couldn't handle it.

He might've been a bad man, a vampire with a black past, but he did deserve a little consideration and he did have feelings that could be hurt.

In a few minutes, though, after thinking hard about Angel and how he'd gotten himself fucked over again -- and he certainly wasn't brooding! -- he'd get up, force himself back to the penthouse, call for his real clothes and then get dressed.

He'd nick one of Angel's cars -- the Chevelle, maybe, or the Viper, since it was an obvious favourite of Angel's -- and then steal some cash and get the hell out of Dodge.

He couldn't take this anymore.

A joke was a joke and this wasn't how it was supposed to be.

He wasn't supposed to get involved.

His plans weren't supposed to fail.

He wasn't supposed to feel things.

Not anymore.

Fifteen minutes later, after staring into space like a coma patient, Spike made himself get up and go back to the penthouse. He made it up there without interruption and without any big, looming overly-gelled vampires coming out of the woodwork to grab him and make him talk or beg him to listen; no anything.

You'd think he'd feel some sort of remorse...what with the soul-having.

He's always been monogamous or as close to it as he could get.

Fucking around on me, though, is apparently no big deal.

That makes me feel all warm and fluffy inside, it does.

Spike sighed and dialed the line out code. He asked for his clothes and then within minutes had them. He was putting them on and just finishing buckling his belt when Angel came in.

They stared at each other silently, frozen in place, then Spike resumed righting his clothing and started for the door, shouldering his way around Angel. "Be out of your way in a bit. Just give me time to get out of the building."

Angel grabbed his arm. "You're not going anywhere, Spike. This isn't totally my fault, you know. You started this...whatever it is. You gave me--what the hell did you give me, anyway? You never even told me. It's made me nuts. It's like I can't help myself. When I get aroused it starts to hurt and I have to get rid of the pressure or it feels like I'll explode. Jerking off didn't do a damn thing and fucking all of my friends -- who think I'm fucking nuts by now -- only helped to a small extent. Minutes later I'd be hard again and the hell would start all over again. What did you do?"

Spike slumped. There was no point in fucking around anymore. Angel wouldn't let it go, anyway.

"Figured since we were fighting so much lately that a good joke'd lighten everything up a bit. Maybe it'd make you unwind or something. You never laugh, hardly crack a smile, never talk or joke with your little human friends. You're lucky you have them, mate. Not all of us are so lucky to be so popular, so well liked despite our demon status no matter how hard we try to fit in."

The blond's lips twisted. "Anyway, got me an idea, didn't I? Went down to your science section, asked a little rat-faced demon bloke for some pills, took it up to your employee lounge, mixed it in with your blood and Harmony -- the stupid bint -- was none the wiser. You should watch her. I wouldn't trust her as far as she could form a coherent thought."

"And, then, you drank it and that's all. Didn't imagine it would have this kind of effect. Thought it'd be a bit of temporary fun. How was I supposed to know?" He pulled his arm, trying to release himself from Angel's grip. "Let me go."

"That's your problem, Spike, you never think. Now, what was it? You told me everything but what you gave me."

"Gave you sinxvigrapllzz," Spike mumbled at his feet. His boots could use a good shine, now that he was examining them closely.

"What was that?"

The blond sighed, still staring at his feet. "Six Viagra pills, alright? Now, can I go?"

"Six?! Six could kill an elephant, Spike! One does a human for several hours. What the hell is it going to do to me? You gave me six of the fucking things! Are you deficient?"

Spike's bottom lip started to tremble but he stubbornly clamped it between his teeth and just barely managed to keep from bursting into tears. The soul was making him a pussy.

"I'm sorry!" he burst out, upset, eyes welling up. He yanked his arm free and stepped away from Angel. "Didn't know! Didn't know! I didn't fucking know! How many times do you want me to say that? Just leave me alone. I want to go."

"You're not going anywhere, Spike. This is your fault. I get hard at the least little thought of anything even remotely sexual. This morning? I was thinking about how screwed my taxes were going to be because Wolfram & Hart is garnishing my wages after that mishap with the budget and it made me hard!"

Angel breathed hard through his nostrils, pinning Spike with a dark gaze that seared straight into his bones. "Yeah, I've got an idea... You're going to help me. You're going to ask the same little man what the effect of all six pills would be on a vampire and then you're going to come back up here and tell me. Then, we're going to figure out what to do about this crap because I can't go anywhere like this. I want to fuck whoever I see, dammit, and I don't do that anymore. I've changed."

Spike snickered. "Used to, though. Used to do a lot more than thinking about it. You were such a slut, Angelus. Bet you think about it all the time, anyway. Soul only makes you think twice about doing things...it doesn't keep you from having those nasty little desires that make you bug-shagging-crazy."

Angel rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, calming only slightly. "Shut up, William. Call. Now."

Spike pouted, his previous upset almost completely forgotten, strolled over to the phone and dialed down to the lab. The news he received wasn't pleasant.

"What do you mean they don't know?! They have to know! They're goddamn scientists! They experiment and then they bloody well know!"

Spike winced as Angel's voice rose until it was near the screeching point; it started to hurt his ears.

He backed up a few steps. It was never good when his sire reverted to British slang. "This is just what they said, okay? They haven't tested on vampires because there's no need to. Vampires can't be impotent, right? So. No need. He said that with humans more than one would be hazardous to anybody's health. Can't take more than one in a twenty-four hour period. So, I reckon with vampires...given how fast it started working..." Spike flinched as Angel's pacing stopped and he turned to glare at him. "I-I think it'll last a while longer than it does for humans, too. Since we don't have circulation and all...and the, er, dose you got..."

Angel's frustrated growl was so loud that it sent vibrations through Spike's body -- some of the sensation was pleasant, some of it not. He'd have enjoyed the feeling if Angel wasn't so incredibly pissed at him right now.

Spike backed up against the far wall, almost cowering, hoping the older vampire would forget about him long enough for him to escape somehow.

"So, what? We're talking days here? I can't run business like this! I can't go fifteen minutes without fucking someone! And I can't leave it to my hand because that only worked for a few seconds before it got ugly... Believe me, I tried before I resorted to fucking everyone I've been around. Spike," Angel suddenly stalked toward the smaller vampire, who flinched. "You're going to help me with this. For however long it takes you are going to be the one to help me find relief. You made your bed and now you're going to let me fuck you in it." He snorted. "Who the hell gives a vampire six fucking Viagra pills? Jesus, Spike."

Spike looked down, fiddling with the tail of his borrowed t-shirt. "Yeah, well."

Angel sighed. "If I need you I'll call. I have to get back to work. I have to do something productive today. Christ, I'll have to come up with an excuse as to why the hell I've fucked everyone I know. Maybe I can say I drank some spiked blood, that would certainly be true..." He turned from Spike and started toward the door. "And, Spike? When I call I want you to come down to my office immediately. No fucking around."

Spike sighed. "Yes, Angel."

"Good."

Angel left and Spike watched him.

Sex with Angel was normally fucking brilliant but when forced in a situation like this...

Yeah, this was going to be one of those fun days, he could just tell.

The phone rang and Spike jerked out of a deep sleep to answer it. He fell off the couch, crawled to the kitchen and reached for the phone.

"Yeah?"

"Get down here. Now."

Spike's eyebrows rose. He was still groggy. "What?"

Angel growled. "Now, Spike. I mean it."

The line went dead and Spike stared at the receiver for a moment before shrugging, pulling off his own newly laundered clothes to put on the ones Angel had given him -- didn't want to soil his own again -- and hurried down to Angel's office.

He was running to service the lord and master. He felt like a right twat.

Which was essentially what he was to Angel under the current circumstances.

Spike snorted derisively as the elevator doors opened and he stalked out of the car toward Angel's office. Angel had probably waited until the point of no return to call him. Stupid pillock.

Why would you wait so long it hurt? You'd think a person would spare themselves the pain by just giving in.

Obviously, Angel was a masochistic bastard.

Harmony smiled and started jabbering. "Oooh, Spikey, that blue shirt brings out your eyes. Not that you need anything to bring out those blue diamond babies."

He stopped to stare at her, one eyebrow quirked. She was like a train wreck. He couldn't ignore her no matter how much he tried.

"Yeah! You should wear actual colour more often. Maybe some pink or yellow or red like blood, but especially blue with those eyes and that complexion. The black makes you look so washed out which isn't good when you're a vampire without a tan. Though, I think they have nifty sunless tanners now that make even a vampire look like he gets to the beach... But, still... You look way hot. Except, those sweat pants?" She pointed a perfectly manicured pink nail at his lower body. "They are so unstylish. Nobody can see anything of your surprisingly muscular legs or your tight butt. You should get some really tight jeans. Maybe some leather pants. That would be sooo hot on you and it would emphasize the good instead of hiding it."

He leaned on the upper portion of her desk, smirking. He always liked a good ego stroking. "Yeah? Well, maybe--"

"Spike! What the hell are you doing out there fucking around with Harmony? Get your ass in here! Now!"

Spike jumped, swallowed and backed away from Harmony's desk quickly. "Er, sorry, pet, old sire awaits. Mustn't keep him, er, waiting."

When he reached the doors, one swung open and a powerful hand shot out, grabbed him and pulled him bodily inside. The door slammed shut, the lock clicked and then Spike was suddenly buffing the smooth surface of the door with his ass and shoulders.

Angel jerked him up in the air shoved his head against the hard wood when he slammed his mouth onto Spike's. Spike quickly wrapped his legs around the brunet's hips to keep from falling, not that he thought Angel would let him move out of place.

Angel's mouth was on his, Angel's cock was pressed needfully against his, rubbing, thrusting, wanting, and before he could form a thought about what was happening, Angel had hauled him by his waist over to his desk.

"Get under the desk. I want head. And it better be good."

Want me to be your dirty little secret even when we're alone together, eh? Where've I heard that one before?

Spike swallowed the bitterness he felt surge up inside him and stumbled as he was suddenly released. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. No need to get all caveman on me, Angel. Fuck. Just 'cause you got that mono-neanderthal brow, don't mean you gotta act all uncivilized."

He rolled his eyes, dropped to his knees, crawled under the desk and then watched from underneath in the dark as Angel sat down in his nice, leather chair, spread his legs, pushed forward so that his lower body was underneath the desk and waited not so patiently for Spike to get to work.

"Well?" Angel snarled.

Pushy bastard.

He'll be lucky I don't bite the damn thing off.

Spike moved forward and unzipped Angel's pants. As he released Angel's swollen cock, he said, "You must've waited a while, mate, you look like you're going to blow your top. And not in a good way. Ain't it painful?"

Angel hissed. "Yes, it damn well is. Now get on with it! I don't need commentary, Spike. I need your pretty little mouth wrapped around my dick."

"Bossy, bossy," Spike muttered, then engulfed Angel's prick. He knew the git was close and he wanted to get him off as quickly as possible so he could go back to sleep upstairs. He'd only gotten an hour of rest before Angel had called and he didn't want to take that much time out for this bullshit.

Angel's head fell back and he moaned. Grabbing onto Spike's head, he pumped his cock into that perfect little mouth and down the back of his throat. Spike sucked him down easily, expertly, and he was cumming in minutes, muscles tensing and flexing as Spike swallowed his climax.

As Angel sank back against the seat, sated for the moment, he sighed. "Maybe you should stay down here. Be easier on me, I can tell you that. Won't have to waste time calling you or waiting for you to get here."

Spike sighed. "Can I use your couch, then? Didn't get any sleep, did I?"

"Yeah, sure, fine." Angel waved him away and Spike felt more than a little used.

"I'm getting tired of people using me for sex, though. Real bloody tired," he murmured softly, trudging tiredly over to the sofa.

"What was that?"

Spike sighed. "Nothing, Angel. Nothing."

People came and went all damn day; Angel's office was like a bloody train station. Every once in a while between meetings and phone calls and conferences Spike serviced Angel when Angel snapped his beefy fingers.

Spike spent very little time sleeping and ignored whoever came in so he could snatch those precious few minutes in between having to deal with Angel's rampant libido -- enhanced with Viagra as it was.

Under the desk, over the desk, against the wall, on the couch, on the floor and everywhere else Angel could position him, Spike was fucked.

His ass and mouth were beginning to grow sore, though, and even his vampire constitution and healing couldn't compete with the reamings he was receiving.

By the time the sun rose and people started coming into work, the day was already looking to be one of those.

The crux of his problem, though, was that Angel hadn't let him cum any of the times he had. Spike was dying to get his end away but couldn't until Angel gave him permission.

Just like old times.

Spike eyed Angel. The older vampire was staring at him as he talked on the phone and it wasn't a fuzzy, happy look, either. It was full of heat and repressed rage and it made the tiny hairs on his body stand on end in warning.

With the crook of a finger, Spike was summoned to Angel and he went willingly, resigned to once again sucking his sire off. He was surprised when Angel tugged at his sweat pants and switched the phone to his right hand and ear so Spike could straddle him.

Spike's eyebrows rose. "You want me to..."

Angel's eyes swirled golden for a second and Spike shrugged. If his sire wanted to be ridden while on the phone with some client, then he would be ridden while talking on the phone with a client. It wouldn't be his problem if Angel made sex noises or the person on the other end heard something that wasn't meant to be heard.

With a sigh, he pulled off his sweat pants -- he'd long since given up on keeping his shirt on because Angel kept telling him to take it off and it took too long and the big sac kept yelling at him -- and straddled Angel's lap.

Angel placed his left hand on Spike's hip, squeezing just short of too hard to let him know to hurry along.

Spike peeled back Angel's pants, lined them up and sank down with a muffled groan -- not one of pleasure. It really was starting to hurt even with all the semen Angel had flooded him with that was lubricating him very well.

Angel's eyelids fluttered and how he kept up with the conversation on the other side of that receiver, Spike had no idea, but he did. He squeezed Spike again and the blond began riding Angel at a leisurely pace. He leaned against Angel's chest, resting his forearms on the back of the chair for leverage as he moved his hips and thrust up and down. He avoided eye contact with Angel.

It was as economical a fuck as Spike had ever had. If he hadn't felt the fullness in his ass and the slight pleasure it brought when Angel's cockhead brushed against his prostate he'd have felt like he was in line at the post office to buy stamps or something.

Spike snorted silently. He couldn't believe he was tired of fucking. Never thought he'd see the day.

Of course, it didn't help that he'd not been able to cum in the many hours since he'd started... Not that he was even growing hard anymore. His body had given up and the mind was unwilling.

After a few more minutes, Angel ended his call and gave Spike his undivided attention. Angel cupped Spike's ass with both hands and sank down into the chair. He spread his legs and helped Spike pick up his pace even though he didn't want to.

"Faster."

Spike bit his lip and moved faster. He shut his eyes and tucked his face into the crook of the Angel's neck.

"Spike."

He sighed. "What?"

"You're not hard."

Spike snorted but didn't change the rhythm of his hips. "You're a bright one."

"I was going to let you cum this time."

"Yeah, great."

"Spike..."

Spike's eyes began welling up and he started moving faster, a punishing rhythm that made him hurt and minimized even the slight pleasure he'd been receiving.

He just needed this over with so he could slink away to his corner until the next time.

"Shut up," he muttered, feeling Angel's body tense against his own. And when Angel came, he didn't look at him as he pulled off and moved away. He tugged on his cum-soiled pants and limped back to the couch; Angel's cum tickled as it oozed out of his ass.

He laid down with his back turned, intent upon getting at least a few minutes sleep before the next round.

As he shut his eyes and tried to relax into unconsciousness, he heard the squeak of Angel's chair as the brunet left it. He tensed as he felt Angel move closer to him.

"Spike -- and I can't believe I'm asking you this, but -- are you okay?"

Spike ground his face into the leather as tears scalded his cheeks where they escaped his eyes. "No, I'm not okay. I think I've paid ten fold for what I did to you -- I didn't plan on it going this far. I hate this. I'm not getting anything out of it. And when you told me I wasn't allowed to get off 'till you said, I thought: fine, I deserve it for what I did. But this is going above and beyond. My ass is on fire and there's not even enough time between fucks for me to heal properly, so every time you take me it hurts more and more. My jaw aches, my tongue is sore. My legs and arms and everything else I've been using to get you off hurts. I just want to sleep. I can't take anymore, Angel. Please."

Spike wrapped his arms around himself and started when Angel's cool hand touched his arm. "Spike, I...I really am sorry."

"Right," his voice cracked and he moved further into the sofa. He was such a pathetic wanker.

"It's been almost two days, I think it's nearly over. If that helps. You deserved some of it, but...I'm sorry about the rest."

Spike wiped at his leaking eyes and turned over to meet Angel's contrite ones. "I almost believe you." His wet eyelashes fluttered. "I'm sorry for putting Viagra in your blood."

"Spike," Angel stood up and held out his hand. "Go on and go up to my apartment. Get some sleep."

Spike frowned at Angel's hand and then at his face. "But you need--"

"I know what I need, Spike."

Spike sat up, vibrating with anger. "Then you'll fuck every Tom, Dick and bloody Horny person who walks in your office, won't you?"

"Why are you so jealous, anyway? What the hell's the matter with you?"

"Nothing!" He grabbed his t-shirt and his boots and stormed out of the office in a cloud of indignation and anger smelling of Angel's cum from head to toe.

He shivered, chilled, and figured he'd probably better get dressed while he still had the chance.

Harmony wrinkled her nose. "Eww, Spikey, you've been--"

"Sod off, Harm! I don't need your shit. None of your bloody business anyway," Spike growled, stomping into his boots and wrenching the t-shirt over his head. He punched the up button and when the car finally got there, he got inside; the doors shut as Angel came out of his office looking as if he wanted to say something.

When he got up to the suite, the first thing he did was strip off his clothing and take a long, hot shower to rid himself of the stench of Angel's cum. Then, he pulled on his own jeans and flopped down on the couch, falling asleep almost immediately.

He might've been conflicted but he was still damn tired.

Part Four

Angel's cock was harder than it had been in his entire life but that wasn't why he was going up to his penthouse.

No, he was going because he wanted to make an amends to Spike. Even though all of this was the little runt's fault in the first place.

He rolled his eyes as he stepped out of his private elevator. He couldn't believe he was feeling remorse about treating Spike like crap. He normally treated the younger vampire like crap on a daily basis, hourly, even, and didn't bat an eyelash and neither did Spike.

Somehow, this was different.

Well, it made sense. They were both different this time. They had souls.

But they still had the history between them. It was heavy and wouldn't disappear no matter how hard he tried to make it go away.

When he reached the couch, he saw Spike sprawled on it, one arm dangling limply over the side, the other resting draped across his bare abdomen as he slept.

Angel hadn't known true beauty until that moment.

"Christ, I'm getting really gay in my old age," he muttered, as he carefully picked Spike up and took him to his bed. He slipped him underneath the covers and then went to shower. Maybe by the time he got out his erection would be at least a little limp.

It did seem as if the Viagra was finally starting to wear off, if just a little.

He took a really cold shower.

Angel didn't sleep; he bundled himself into bed, wrapped an arm around Spike's waist and snuggled close, breathing in the scent he'd nearly forgotten but always loved.

He'd always enjoyed times like these. In bed with Spike, or William as he was way back when.

Spike was so beautiful when he was at rest, not to say that he wasn't when he was awake but he lost all the hardness, cockiness, the cynicism that came with living as long as they had. He lost the ability to keep that tough-guy image he always portrayed to hide his softer side.

He was relaxed and innocent in sleep. He didn't snark or strike out.

It could be William, but for the hair, laying there if Angel didn't know better.

Angel missed that, being with Spike. He hadn't truly realised how much until Spike had died saving the world and he'd felt such a painful loss he thought he'd die, himself.

He sighed and shifted his hips away from Spike's body. He was hard and his cock was dying to just seek out Spike's tight little hole and thrust until he exploded.

Angel didn't think Spike would have any good words -- not that he normally did -- for him if he felt that against his abused ass. Not after all he'd been through.

Angel shuddered as his cock throbbed against its silk prison. He needed to stop thinking -- which was actually more difficult than you'd think. He was trying to be good, dammit.

It really was harder to be good than bad. It also sucked.

He lay there for two hours like that, pressed against his childe, hips angled away but desperately wanting to seek a closer position. He wanted Spike to wake up but didn't have the heart -- or the balls -- to do it himself.

His erection eventually subsided somewhat, which was a relief in so many ways.

When Spike started to stir, Angel held his proverbial breath, unmoving, staring at the back of that soft nape with tiny dark hairs scattered where the peroxide hadn't been spread; that stretch of skin looked so fragile, so tender -- it was one of his favourite places to suck because Spike always made such wonderful noises when he did...or he had.

Spike snuffled sleepily and Angel grew tenser and tenser each passing, silent moment.

Spike stretched and breathed and, just as he had when Angel had been soulless, snuggled back into his embrace with a contented little sigh. A firm little ass pushed back into Angel's groin and Angel inhaled sharply.

A soft, "Angelus," made his balls ache and his body respond readily but he knew Spike had to still be mostly asleep.

Spike turned over in Angel's embrace, smacked his lips and tucked his face into Angel's collar bone. Cool breath tickled over Angel's skin, making him shudder -- his arms tightened around the oblivious younger vampire.

Spike's eyelids fluttered and a small smile curved his soft, pink lips -- eminently kissable, always lickable lips -- and guileless, sleep-innocent eyes finally opened to stare into Angel's smoldering ones as he leaned his head back.

"Sire."

Angel blinked; he stayed quiet and still and chock full of disbelief. He held his metaphorical breath, unwilling to ruin this because he knew as soon as he so much as uttered one syllable Spike would fully wake and this perfect -- well, not too perfect -- moment would be lost.

Spike continued to just breath and wrapped an arm around Angel, pulling him close. His hand dove into the short hair at the brunet's nape and played there for a moment before he frowned sleepily.

"Miss your long hair, Angelus. Loved playing with it while you fucked me, while we were laying together in bed. Miss how it brushed my face, my back, when you pounded into me. When it was wet, it clung to your smooth skin..."

Angel swallowed as quietly as he was able. Everything his childe was saying was bringing back memories and his cock was hardening and rising against Spike's thigh.

Still, he said nothing as he waited for the penny to drop.

For a moment Spike laid there, soaking up the attention, and then he began to fully wake. His memory caught up with his consciousness and as soon as he regained full use of his brain he froze against Angel.

Angel shut his eyes and waited.

"Angel?" It came out deceptively quiet, disturbingly calm.

Angel braced himself. "Yeah?"

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I was laying here in my bed until you woke up and, uh..."

Spike sighed and pulled away from him. He rolled onto his back. "Need another go at me, do you? Give me a minute to gather me wits and I'll suck you off. Have to hand it to you, though, at least you waited until I woke up. Time was you wouldn't afford me that pleasure. Needed the rest, I did." He frowned. "How'd I get in your bed, anyway? Don't tell me you carried me like a sack of potatoes and tossed me in your bed..."

"Yeah. You could put it like that." Angel shifted and rolled onto his back as well; his erection tented both his boxers and the covers above them almost comically and definitely indecently. "I carried you in from the living room. Couch didn't look too comfortable. And I'm not here about...getting off again, not if you don't want to."

Spike snorted and arched an eyebrow as he sat up. He glared at Angel. "It's always about getting you off, Angel, what else is there?" He pulled back the comforter and stared pointedly at the barely restrained erection. "See? Your cock knows what's what."

When Spike started to pull down his boxers, Angel stopped him; their skin touched and it was like electricity.

"No. I told you, it's not about that. I just wanted to lie here in my bed with you and let you rest. I haven't gotten any sleep either but I had more, um, fun than you so it's a trade-off."

Spike pulled away abruptly and wrapped his arms around his raised knees. He didn't look at Angel. "Then what do you want? It can't be as simple as all that. There's always something. Always someone wanting something from me. Using me, abusing me, hurting me, hating me all the while they're taking more from me and getting off on it. Darla, Dru, you, Buffy..." He buried his face in his arms. "When is someone not going to use me for sex? I just want someone to care about me, just one bloody time care about me and not what I can do for them."

The mention of Buffy created a slight ache in his heart and a flare of remorse and bitterness. Buffy had been screwed up but that had been no reason to use Spike as she had.

He sat up and scooted across the mattress, slowly, so as to not scare Spike.

"I'll make it up to you. How can I make it up to you?" Angel pressed a kiss to one trembling shoulder, causing Spike to freeze. "What's wrong?"

Spike looked up, expression frosty, eyes blazing. "You always think with your dick, you wanker! Sex can't fix everything. Especially not when I'm sore as all hell and couldn't take your cock even if I bloody wanted to. Leave me alone." He sniffed and laid down with his back turned to Angel. "I've got me a headache and don't feel like it."

Angel grinned. If Spike was making bad jokes then that meant things were getting better.

His smile faded. What could he do to fix this? What could he offer Spike to make him believe that he was truly sorry?

The silence was heavy and for several moments he stared at the tense line of Spike's creamy back, watching the muscles skitter under perfect flesh as if Spike knew he was being examined. And then he had it. He knew what he could do to make it right with Spike.

"Spike."

"What?" came Spike's sullen response. The blond was pouting, his arms crossed.

Angel moved closer, pressing against the lithe body. He kissed Spike's neck. "Turn over."

Spike rolled his eyes and shot Angel an amused, yet still angry glance. "Told you, sex isn't going to do it, Angelus. Wank off if you really need it. I'm not sucking your dick or riding it anytime soon."

Angel bit back a laugh and forced Spike over onto his back. He gazed down at the sulky vampire, who half-heartedly glared up at him. "Don't have to. C'mere. I want those lips of yours."

Spike sighed, secretly delighted with the playfulness Angel was exhibiting ... for once.

He surrendered to his sire's mouth, moaning deep in his throat as Angel mapped his out thoroughly. And when Angel moved to lay on top of him, he didn't fight it; he welcomed it with literal open arms and legs.

As Angel settled between Spike's thighs, he kissed harder and plotted the next course of action. He needed lube and he needed it now.

Pulling away, he panted, "I need to get something. You be naked when I get back."

Spike swallowed, licking his lips. "Yeah, okay."

When Angel climbed from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, Spike frantically tore off his pants and flopped back on the bed, trying to be seductive but nonchalant about it.

He spread his legs and tucked his hands beneath his head, making sure to define every line of his body just as Angelus had always liked him to.

Angel returned several minutes later, boxers gone and proud erection swaying gently as he walked; he held a tube of lube in one hand.

The pose Spike had affected was a familiar one. One Angelus had seen many times and Angel had only dreamed of. Spike's body laid out as if made for him, posturing in a way that made all the muscles and perfections of the pale body even more apparent.

Spike's tongue peeked out from between smirking lips, tucking itself between a set of pearly, white teeth. "See something you like, Angelus?"

And that was familiar too.

Angel threw the lube at Spike.

The younger vampire's smirk vanished and he quickly took himself out of that provocative pose to catch it with his hands or lay there and risk catching it with his smug face.

Angel crawled onto the bed and straddled Spike, who was now scowling. He grinned down at Spike as he rolled his hips and their erections dragged against one another.

"What do you think, boy?"

Spike swallowed; his intent expression heated Angel's blood, his eyes mesmerized and held him.

"I think you should use all that bloody lube or risk me screaming out in pain rather than pleasure." He started to push Angel away so that he could flip over onto his stomach but Angel refused to move. Spike frowned, still holding Angel's waist with one hand and the lube with the other. "What? Get off so I can turn over. Want to get this show on the road."

"I don't want to hurt you, Spike. Don't move." Angel pushed his childe back down so that he was lying flat beneath him. He shushed Spike with a finger, pressing it gently to his lips. "Quiet, William."

Spike's eyes widened dramatically. He knew something was going on when Angel used his name like that; but Angel wasn't talking, he was just doing.

His eyes were wide as he lay there silently under Angel letting the older vampire take the lube from his hand without a whisper of protest. Spike watched Angel flip the cap, lift up and then slather a moderate amount of lubricant onto his cock.

"Angel, what are you--"

"Ssshhh, Spike," was all Angel said, as he tossed the tube away, positioned himself and sank down. "Ah, God, William."

Spike's eyes rolled into the back of his head.

I can't believe he's letting me inside him.

This is vampire-bloody-taboo!

Christ, he feels so fucking good...

"A-A-Angel?"

Angel sighed and sank down until he couldn't anymore; Spike's pubic hair tickled him. He leaned forward, propped himself on Spike's chest and absently tweaked a nipple as he kissed Spike.

Spike's mouth opened immediately and he wrapped his arms around Angel, trying to pull him even closer. He wanted to lose himself in this man's body; it was the most over-powering feeling he'd ever experienced.

He hadn't known anything like this. It was huge.

He felt small in comparison.

Spike licked his swollen lips as Angel pulled away. He brought his legs up and spread them, gasping as Angel's ass convulsed around his cock. His hands fell to Angel's hips and tightened.

"Angel." His voice was strained, his body taut and needy, fingers clenched and digging into Angel's flesh.

Angel must've seen the desperation on his face or sensed it, for he started rocking back and forth slowly, raising and lowering himself so that it made Spike's control go straight to hell. He arched his back, bared his throat and rolled his hips into each of Angel's thrusts.

Angel's spine curved until he could reach Spike's calves; he gripped them and braced himself as he undulated and began panting. His face contorted with pleasure even as he strained to continue fucking himself on Spike's cock.

"Cum for me, Spike. I know you need it. And you want it, don't you? You fucking crave it. Cum in my ass, little one."

Spike whimpered.

Angel used his stomach muscles to fling himself forward, bracing himself over Spike's writhing body with both forearms so he could rub his erection against Spike's rippling abdomen.

He sped his thrusts up, growing frantic, bouncing harder as he drove Spike's cock deeper. He wondered why he'd never done this before; it felt way too damn good.

Spike moaned and fucked up sharphardfast a few more times until his balls tightened. He threw back his head and came harder than he could ever remember, howling out his pleasure loudly.

Soft, pretty human face disappeared behind brow ridges and sharp fangs and yellow eyes as he ground himself into Angel's backside as the orgasm was wrung from him.

Angel began stroking himself with one hand, knuckles dragging along both of their stomachs as he desperately stripped his cock.

His own face contorted, shifting away as his vampire visage melted into being. He slammed down once more, feeling Spike's still pulsing cock throbbing inside of him, driving it into his prostate.

Then he was releasing, too, meeting yellow eyes with his own as he striped Spike's stomach with his orgasm.

Spike shook off his demon face and Angel let go of his own but they stayed as they were. Angel was in no hurry to move off Spike's softening prick; it felt good inside him.

The blond took a deep breath. "Okay, so maybe sex can solve anything."

Angel cracked a grin and leaned down to kiss Spike almost chastely.

"What made you -- I mean, why did you -- fuck! You know what I'm trying to say, Angel. Why'd you do it? It's not something you've ever, er, offered. Always said you'd cut off my prick if I tried to take you. Why now?"

Angel pulled off Spike with a low hiss, echoed by Spike, and lay down next to him. He propped himself up on one arm and splayed his fingers out in the puddle he'd made on Spike's belly, rubbing it into his flesh absently. "I wanted to give you something to let you know that I was really sorry. I just...wanted to make it right. Sex doesn't solve everything, I know that, but...it's a start, I think."

For a moment, silence settled like a blanket, easy and comfortable, but then Spike frowned as he thought of something. He looked at Angel, who was still drawing doodles in the puddle of cum on his torso. Spike grabbed the large hand, stopping him, and Angel looked at him curiously.

"You were loose and slick before you wet me down, weren't you?"

Angel smiled sheepishly. "Yeah."

"You got yourself ready in the bathroom when you went in there, didn't you?"

"Umm, yeah..."

Spike's grin was wolfish. "Wish I'd gotten to see that...or participate. Bet it was hot."

Angel laughed and pulled his childe on top of him. He eased Spike's head into the crook of his neck and sighed, playing with Spike's surprisingly soft hair.

"I was nervous -- it wasn't hot, believe me. Was mostly uncomfortable and embarrassing because I'd never really done that before and had no clue what I was doing." Spike shifted a little and Angel opened his legs so Spike could lay more comfortably on him. "Spike?"

"Mmm?" Spike was as close to being unconscious as he could be without actually being that way. He was so relaxed, sated and comfortable that he was very near the purring stage. He'd always been susceptible to Angelus' charms and it looked like he was even more so to Angel's.

"Don't give me any more Viagra."

Spike summoned up enough energy to chuckle, then burrowed his face back into Angel's neck, licking the slightly salty skin. "Yeah, I learnt my lesson, I did." Angel's cock started to harden against Spike's stomach and Spike shifted to look down at him, surprised. "Again? Bloody hell. You're like a ruddy machine, Angel."

Before Spike could bat an eyelid, Angel had them flipped over, reversing their positions. He ground his cock into Spike's stomach, growling when the younger vampire's dick responded in kind. He licked a trail up the side of the pale neck Spike offered him and met Spike's lips with a hungry kiss.

Then he proceeded to explore every inch of Spike's quivering body, tasting every hollow and crease until Spike was writhing and as desperate as he was.

When Angel laid down on his stomach and opened his thighs expectantly, holding his knees up and apart with both hands, Spike moved between them with wide eyes and sank in after searching his expression.

Angel only smiled and let go of his legs to touch Spike's face.

Their hands laced together above Angel's head on the pillow as Spike moved deep and slow.

It took a long time to climax, neither one in any particular hurry despite the intensity of their arousal, but when it happened it was so intense they both looked shocked afterward.

When it was over, Spike slipped himself from Angel; they turned over, he pulled up the sheet, leaving the comforter hanging from the end of the bed, and they tangled themselves together in much the same way they had a hundred years ago.

Angel relaxed on his back with one arm wrapped around Spike, who was lying belly down mostly on Angel's chest with face buried in the older vampire's neck. One of Spike’s arms elegantly draped itself over Angel's stomach and one of his legs hiked its way possessively over both of Angel's thighs.

Here Endeth the Story

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