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Mile High

by spikeNdru

Warning: Contains explicit M/M slash

 

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Part II — Membership (NC-17/FRAO)

Angel stares at Spike. There is no one else in the world who can make him as crazy as Spike can, yet who understands him as well as Spike does. Spike is the most stubborn, opinionated little shit he's ever come across, and yet . . . he still has such passion about life — about everything. Angel feels envious of Spike's ability to care. Things matter to Spike. He's never lost that. Angelus couldn't break him; getting a soul couldn't break him. Hell, even dying and coming back as a ghost couldn't break him. Spike is the most alive person he's ever known.

Angel stares into those electric blue eyes, sparking with anger and frustration because he's been outmaneuvered by brute force from his stupid, ridiculous obsession with the minuscule bathroom. That's the only way Angel has ever been able to beat him — by brute force. And he can do it again. He's bigger and stronger and he could force Spike to capitulate, but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to waste this opportunity to . . . connect.

Things are breaking down — there's a lot Spike doesn't know about the situation at Wolfram and Hart. If things work out as he thinks they will, they might all die — not just Fred. He doesn't want to think about Fred right now. There will be plenty of time to think about Fred when they land. Now, while they're a mile high in the air, he wants to do something he's never done before. He wants to make love to Spike.

He doesn't want to fuck him or rape him or hurt him or break him—he wants to love him. And this may be the only chance he's ever going to get. He's only made love with one other person in his very long life, and he wants to experience it again, once more, before that life is over.

Angel looks at Spike.

“Now, isn't this better than that wee little bathroom?”

“That remains to be seen.”

“Shall I show ye then?”

Angel crawls across the bed on his hands and knees. He looms over Spike. Spike gazes back defiantly. Angel slowly lowers his head as he supports his weight on his arms. His arm and shoulder muscles tighten with the strain. Inch by inch, he lowers his head, his eyes never leaving Spike's until his lips brush Spike's with a feather-light touch. He can feel Spike's cool breath on his own lips. Spike has always chosen to breathe. He hasn't needed to for over a hundred years, but he chooses to do it anyway. It's part of what makes Spike 'Spike'—makes him seem so alive. Angel fills his lungs with air and breathes with Spike, matching his rhythm.

Surprise shows in Spike's eyes and his tongue peeps out to wet his lips. Angel's cock hardens at just the sight of that tongue.

Angel stretches out beside Spike, and Spike turns to face him. Angel's arm slides under Spike's body and pulls him close. His other arm wraps around Spike and he presses the length of his body against Spike. He can feel Spike's smooth chest, rising and falling with each breath. Spike's knee nudges against his and he raises his upper leg as Spike's leg slips between his. He curls his leg around Spike's and he can feel Spike's hard cock — larger than his own . . . how is it possible for such a slight, delicately-formed man to have such a large cock? — pressing against his own.

Angel touches his lips to Spike's, and it's Spike who deepens the kiss, parting his lips, and it's Spike's tongue that thrusts into his own mouth. Angel nibbles and sucks Spike's full lower lip as he has wanted to do for hours. He sucks on Spike's tongue, biting down gently, and then his own tongue slides over Spike's to explore his mouth. Both of their tongues are thrusting and twisting and they forget to breathe and the kiss seems to go on forever.

Angel runs his big hands up and down Spike's back, tracing the line of vertebrae and kneading the muscles on either side and he wants to run his tongue the length of Spike's spine but that will come later. He cups Spike's ass and it is perfectly formed and not in the least deficient.

Spike's hands smooth over his chest, cupping and kneading his pectoral muscles and then Spike's thumbs are rubbing his nipples, circling and pinching and Angel's fingers dig into Spike's ass and pull him closer.

Angel finally breaks the kiss and licks and sucks down Spike's neck, biting with blunt teeth and Spike's fingers tighten on his nipples in reaction. The sudden pain seems to shoot straight to his cock and he's rock hard and his cock is twitching against Spike's. Spike's mouth is on his nipple, licking and sucking and biting in counterpoint to the pinching and twisting his fingers continue on the other.

Angel rolls across the large bed, taking Spike with him, as he reaches for the drawer of the built-in nightstand. His fingers bypass tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner, deodorant, packages of crackers and condoms and Lifesavers, unerringly curling around the bottle of scented oil. He rolls back to their original position in the center of the bed, the coverlet rumpled and bunching beneath them.

Angel thumbs open the massage oil and spills some into his hand as the scent of cinnamon fills the compartment. He snaps the cap shut and lets the bottle fall beside them. He traces the curve of Spike's firm, rounded, and definitely not scrawny ass. He slides down the length of Spike's body until his feet and lower legs are hanging off the bottom of the bed. He bends his knees, tucking his feet behind him, and grasps Spike's hips, moving him upward until he hears the soft thud of Spike's head making contact with the padded headboard.

Angel lowers his mouth to Spike's cock, his tongue teasing back the foreskin, blunt teeth scraping along the underside as he takes Spike's cock into his mouth. Spike moans and thrusts his hips and Angel's lips close around the base, teeth biting gently to keep Spike from moving — for now. Angel's mouth slowly slides up and down on Spike's cock as his oiled finger traces Spike's opening, gently massaging the tight ring of muscle. He can feel Spike's start of surprise at the unaccustomed gentleness and his lips curve into a smile. Spike feels the difference in the position of Angel's lips and the tension drains out of his body as he relaxes, allowing Angel's finger entrance.

Angel's mouth slides faster on Spike's cock as he adds a second finger, stretching and opening him. He twists his hand and adds a third finger and Spike bears down, fingers biting into Angel's shoulders as his hips piston and he thrusts deeper into Angel's mouth.

Angel's cock drags across the bedspread as he shifts his weight, changing the angle of his head and shoulders. He deliberately relaxes his throat allowing Spike to thrust harder and deeper. His fingers in Spike's ass mimic Spike's thrusts into his throat. He feels Spike clench around his hand as Spike's come hits the back of his throat and he can taste the alcohol that doesn't mask the salty-spicy-sweet taste that is uniquely Spike. Spike shudders and his body spasms and the fingers of Angel's left hand dig into his hip before releasing him to grope for the oil. His questing fingers find the bottle and squeeze additional oil into his hand which he strokes onto his own cock. The cinnamon is doing something warming to his cool flesh and his cock becomes even harder.

He gets to his knees and his fingers slide out of Spike as he lifts Spike's hips and his cock nudges into Spike. He meets Spike's eyes, holding the look as he thrusts, his balls slapping against Spike's ass. Spike wraps his legs around his waist and Angel thrusts harder and faster, and then stills as he sees the longing in Spike's eyes.

Angel sighs and gives in.

Wrapping his arms around Spike to hold him in place, he rolls onto his back. He uses his heels to pull his body to the edge of the bed and sits up with Spike in his lap. Spike's legs grip him tighter around the waist and Spike wraps his arms around Angel's shoulders.

Angel gets to his feet, swaying for a moment as he adjusts to the different center of gravity, and stumbles slightly as he makes his way to the door. He fumbles with the catch, and then they are in the main cabin. Spike's fingers bite into his shoulders as Angel strides the length of the cabin. His elbow shoves the half-open door of the bathroom and it slams back against the outer wall.

Angel edges into the tight space and then turns sideways, bracing Spike's back against the wall as he thrusts twice into Spike and then comes. Spike's body tightens around his cock and his hand grips the back of Angel's neck. Angel's cock pulses with the after-effects of his orgasm and his thigh muscles begin to spasm. He can feel a cramp starting in his left calf, but he doesn't want to put Spike down — he doesn't want to break the contact yet. He leans heavily into Spike, pressing him harder into the wall, as his legs begin to tremble.

He looks into Spike's shining eyes and sucks in air to speak.

“Are you happy now, Spike? We fucked in the bloody bathroom!”

Spike smiles triumphantly.

 

The End

 

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