Hungry Like The Wolf - Duran Duran
Burning the ground I break from the crowd
I'm on the hunt I'm after you
I smell like I sound. I'm lost and I'm found
And I'm hungry like the wolf
Strut on a line it's discord and rhyme
I'm on the hunt I'm after you
Mouth is alive with juices like wine
And I'm hungry like the wolf
----------------------------------------------------
"This place smells.bad!" Angel says, his nose wrinkling in disgust.
Spike turns on him in mock astonishment, "Really? Too much for your uptown senses? Smells good to me.smells like dinner!" He moves quickly towards the larger man, wrapping his arms around him, pulling Angel's head down to him. Angel purrs into Spike's embrace, feeling the electricity of Spike's excitement.
"What have we got here?" says the first drink-slurred voice.
"Looks like a couple of leather fags from Tommy's" replies a second, uglier voice.
The first voice starts again, "Yeah, another couple a' fairies.don't you girls know to stay at home with that shit?"
The ugly voice becomes a little louder, "Thought we were through cleaning up the streets tonight. Already fucked up some of your ass-buddies down the street. Screamed like a coupla girls. Question is, will you?"
Spike shoots an almost needles gaze up at Angel who nods in angry approval.
Turning to the two skinheads, Spike grabs his crotch, gesturing crudely towards the larger, uglier skinhead blocking the alley, "Ya want some of this bitch? 'Cause you're talkin' like you want my attention. Ya got it. Now come 'ere, and give us a kiss.start things off proper-like."
The skin-heads' eyes widen in fury, "What the fuck?! Faggot thinks he's gonna get some?"
Spike smiles an evil smile, moving closer, "Some, pet? I'm gonna get it all!"
The drunk swings heavy and hard at the smaller blonde man, staggering as his fist is caught mid-swing by his 'victim'. "Wha..?" he gasps out, as Spike moves in, pulling the arm savagely behind the other man and leaning in to smell.
"Blood!" He whispers, smelling the blood on his clothes, the alcohol-laced blood pounding through the man's veins.
Without another thought, his gameface appears and he sinks his fangs into the neck of the struggling, shocked body. Fangs slice into the flesh, making gaping wounds that Spike's tongue dips greedily into. He nuzzles into the neck, unaware of anything else in the world but this life slipping into him.
The other drunk charges towards them, only to be caught up short by a blur of black leather as Angel pins his arms back. "Watch!" he commands as he turns the flailing man to face the scene. The man lets out a rough cry as he sees Spike's head raised from the neck of his companion, mouth red and open as the blonde demon lets out a cry of pure joy and bloodlust.
At the sight of his Childe in such ecstasy, Angel's face morphs into demon form, pulling the man's arms even tighter behind him, oblivious to the pain he is causing.
The drunk thrashes in his grasp, "You fuckers! What the hell are you? What the fuck are you doing? Let me go!"
Spike moves cautiously towards Angel, recognizing the demon within his Sire struggling for supremacy. The drunk continues to spit, "Lemme go! I'll fuckin' kill you! Just like I did that faggot at Tommy's. You don't scare me! I'll kill both of you!"
The drunken words call to Angel's demon, begging him to come forth, and he spins the man around in his arms, pressing his fangs against his neck, then suddenly pulling back. He locks eyes with Spike who is moving closer, his arms wrapping around Angel and the struggling drunk, both of them heedless of his shouts now.
"Angel" he calls, and the gold eyes become a little less wild, "Angel.taste him.he's in me!" Their fanged mouths crushing together, Angel's tongue darting out to lap at the fresh blood on Spike's lips.
Angel in control of his demon looks at Spike questioningly, and his Childe pulls the head of the drunk to one side, pushing the neck towards his Sire. "Are you in? Or am I doin' this alone?" Accepting the invitation, Angel leans in, allowing his fangs to sink slowly into the proffered vein, hot human blood rushing into his mouth.
The dead man's body slumps between the two vampires as Angel's eyes fasten with Spike's, and he emits a feral growl. Leaning forward, fangs out, he captures Spike's lips, piercing them, mixing his Childe's blood with his own as he sucks on the wounded lips.
Slipping out of game face, the blonde vampire pulls back startled.looking deeply into the gold eyes, looking for some sign of."Angel" he breathes.
Very slowly, the dark demon slips off of the dark man's face, "Will." he breathes out, a smile spreading across his face, "That was..good!"
Spike returns his Sire's grin, "Yeah, Pet.the best!"
Licking his lips thoughtfully, Angel steps carelessly over the body beneath them as he calls out to his lover, "What would you say to a celebratory drink?"
Spike laughs out loud, "Hell Angel.thought that's what this was!", and he gestures at the two fallen forms.
The demon surfaces for a moment in Angel's eyes, then vanishes just as quickly, "No.I mean alcohol.at Willy's."
"And you're buyin'? Yeah - I'm in!" Spike follows Angel out of the dark alley.
*****
Part 13:
Angie - The Rolling Stones
Angie, Angie
When will those clouds all disappear?
Angie, Angie
Where were the ladies from here?
With no loving in our souls
and no money in our coats
Oh you can't say we're satisfied
Angie, Angie
Oh you can't say we never tried
Uh Angie, you're beautiful...yes
but ain't it time we said goodbye
Angie, I still love you
Remember all those nights we cried
All the dreams we held so close
Seem to all go up in smoke
Oh let me whisper in your ear
Oh Angie don't you weep
All your kisses still taste sweet
I hate that sadness in your eyes
Angie, Angie
Ain't it good to be alive
Angie, Angie
They can't say we never tried
--------------------------------------------------
Spike steps through the door first, eyes traveling around the smoky room, assessing the demon and human inhabitants. A few pairs of eyes look up startled, and angry at his appearance, then widen further as the dark figure behind him enters.
Spike enjoys their reaction as he and Angel move towards a table with two well-used leather chairs. A pretty brunette barmaid approaches them, tray in hand. She stops and appraises the two handsome men, "Gentlemen.what's your poison tonight?"
Spike leers at her, "Whatcha' offerin', sweets?"
She blushes at the blonde, "Everything that's on the menu.whatever you want."
Angel pulls her gaze away, "Cognac for me.and you?" Looking at Spike.
"Gimme a pint, luv.the darkest stuff ya got."
"Guinness?" she asks, as Spike grimaces.
"Ta luv, anything but the Mick stuff.never did have a taste for the Irish." Grinning as Angel clears his throat pointedly, "Beer, that is! Ask Willy fer some Ol' Peculiar." Spike finishes.
"Sure" she says uncertainly, "I'm sure Willy will have something for you. I'll be back in a minute."
"Thank you." Angel says graciously, earning him a bright and private smile from the girl.
Spike leans back in the battered chair, "It's Whitechapel all over again, innit? Ya worked on that red-headed bar wench all night.she woulda given ya her first-born."
Angel smiles at the memory, "It didn't take all night, as I recall William. But I do remember you getting a little jealous."
"Jealous? Me? I don't think so, mate. Didn't 'av to be, did I? Knew who ya were comin' home with."
Before Angel can respond, the girl was back, placing Spike's dark pint in front of him, and catching Angel's eye as she placed his cognac down. "Thank you.darlin'" letting a little bit of the Irish brogue slip in.
Her eyes sparkle, "I can't tell which of you is more handsome!"
Spike interjects, "S'obvious, innit? S'me! Now ducks, we're gonna be here a while, really should get the pleasantries outta the way.what's yer name, pretty girl?"
She blushes an even deeper shade of red and giggles, "It's Angel."
Spike lets out a delighted laugh, "Ya serious, luv? It's 'Angel'?"
She frowns prettily, "Well, yes, of course it is, why wouldn't it be?"
The darker man reaches out to take her hand in his, "It's a beautiful name, Princess, for a beautiful lass."
Charmed at the handsome man's attention, she fakes a pout in Spike's direction, "Well, someone likes my name!"
Spike leans forward, to take her hand out of Angel's and purrs at her, "Now sweetness, I never once said I didn't like yer name, as a matter of fact, I can honestly say I love that name!"
He shifts his gaze to Angel who is grinning broadly at him. "Well.uhm.thank you! Ah.what are your names?" she stammers as she pulls her hand slowly away.
Spike flashes a wide smile at her, "Well I be William, and that's my mate there, Liam."
She turns to Angel who smiles suavely at her, "Enchanted to meet you, lass."
The barmaid sighs, "I have to get back to work. But if either of you needs anything.just let me know."
Spike laughs, "That we will, 'Angel'. That we will."
Two pairs of eyes follow her movement away from the table. "I think we can get more than her first-born tonight, Angel.what do ya say?" Spike asks.
Angel frowns sternly at him, "Really, Will.impregnating the barmaid. Not the best plan you've had lately. Although the idea of little bleach-blonde savages running around with fangs and diapers screaming for 'Daddy' does have a certain charm. On second thought...Yes, go impregnate the lass."
"Ha-ha, you're fuckin hilarious, Ayyyyngel. Who's to say they'd be bleached-blondes, anyway? Mebbe they'd be the dark broodin' nappy wearing types.. takin after their Granda."
"You callin me old, m'boy?"
Spike grins smoothly "Wouldn't dream of it, Peaches."
"Then raise your glass with me, Childe. Time for a toast in celebration."
Spike hesitates, lifting a scarred eyebrow, "In celebration of what recent event exactly? The shagging, the unchipping, the feeding?"
Angel responds easily, "All three, and anything else that comes to mind."
As they bring their glasses together, the barmaid passes by, catching their notice. Spike leans out and singsongs "Ayyyyyyngelllll"
Blushing a bit, she approaches the table giggling a bit "You know, my friends call me Angie."
"S'that right, luv? Like the song?"
"What song?"
"Y'know.The Stones." And in a honey-dripping tone, he begins to sing "With no money in our coats, and no lovin' in our souls.you can't say we're satisfiiiiied. Angie.yer beautiful.you can't say we never triiiied."
Her face flushed, she lets out an embarrassed laugh.
The darker mans eyes fix on the blonde, "I haven't heard that voice in a long time." He almost whispers.
"D'ya miss it?" Spike inquires.
"More than I miss breathing." Spikes smile curls into a Cheshire-cat grin.
The barmaid makes a quiet exit and heads towards the bar, leaving the two men obviously reveling in memories. She leans across the bar, "Hey Willy, what's up with those two over there." Pointing at the blonde and brunette.
Willy gives her a curious look "Don't you know who you've been flirting with? That there," gesturing towards the darker man "That's the scourge of Europe. Angelus and William the Bloody. Know your history, girl."
She lets out a gasp. "But.b.but. They were so.nice."
"Nice like horned-vipers."
"They can't be.I didn't.They didn't make me feel like.dinner. Like the rest of these fang-boys."
"Which is why they're so deadly." He moves around the bar and places a comforting hand on her shoulder "They've been at the game a long time Angie. Can't blame yourself for being swept off your feet by those two. Gotta say, though, I'm surprised to see them paired up again. Last I heard, Angel had gone all super-hero.save the world, yadda yadda. And that Spike - William - Most vicious creature if there ever was one. he got some kind of operation that defanged him. But Dave at the door, he said he smelled death on 'em. So nothin's for sure on the Hellmouth."
"Is it safe for me to.uhmm.bring them their tab?"
"Sure, they're not gonna do anything in here. They know this is a safe zone."
After finishing their drinks and reminiscing, Spike beckons the barmaid with a wink. She approaches the table cautiously, keeping her eyes on the floor. "Whassa matter, luv? What terrible stories has Willie been fillin' yer pretty lil head with?"
"N-n-nothing. Are you guys ready for your check, or would you like something more?"
Spike stands, and runs a cool hand over her shoulder and trailing down her back. She shudders against the touch. "More? Whatcha offerin' Anggellll?"
"I.oh God. I meant." His cool fingers rest at the small of her back, teasing against the strip of flesh exposed between her shirt and the waist of her slacks.
Angel stands, leans his head close to hers, whispers in her ear "Mmm. such a beauty, you are. Take my breath away.Princess should be careful who she's friendly with."
Placing his hand under her chin, he tilts her head up to face him. Her eyes plead with him; she's not sure for what. Quietly he offers "I'm giving you a warning, do you understand?" She nods silently.
His fingers produce a single, folded up bill. He presses it into her slack hand, his fingers curling around hers. "C'mon Will." And the pair stride out of the bar, and into the street outside.
The barmaid stands in shock, staring after them. She looks down at the bill in her hand, unfolds it, and startled out of her fear, laughs at the hundred dollars.
*****
Part 14:
Closer - NIN
you let me violate you,
you let me desecrate you
you let me penetrate you,
you let me complicate you
help me i broke apart my insides,
help me i've got no soul to sell
help me the only thing that works for me,
help me get away from myself
i want to fuck you like an animal
i want to feel you from the inside
i want to fuck you like an animal
my whole existence is flawed
you get me closer to god
you can have my isolation,
you can have the hate that it brings
you can have my absence of faith,
you can have my everything
help me tear down my reason,
help me its' your sex i can smell
help me you make me perfect,
help me become somebody else
i want to fuck you like an animal
i want to feel you from the inside
i want to fuck you like an animal
my whole existence is flawed
you get me closer to god
through every forest,
above the trees within my stomach,
scraped off my knees
i drink the honey inside your hive
you are the reason i stay alive
---------------------------------------------------
Stepping out into the warm night, Spike turns to head for the crypt, Angel, catching his arm, and motioning for him to head in the other direction. "Home's thattaway, mate."
"Got a surprise for you, pup."
Pup?? Only Angelus ever called him 'Pup'. Even though it made him feel that restful glow, he had some apprehension. Had Angels' feed turned him?
"Ha.you keep making that face, and it'll freeze that way." Angel teases.
Spike's eyes question him. "Pup? Angel, er.um. feeling yourself about now?"
Angel acknowledges Spike's concern "I'm fine, Will. Relax, I've never felt better. I called you Pup.If it bothers you, I won't say it again."
"Not that, really. Just odd to 'ear it after so long."
"How's it feel?"
"Fits, I guess. Always meant you an' I were alone, and it was jus' us. Only said it then. Always loved it, I s'pose."
"M'boy, always loved you. Now, will you come with me? I have something for you."
"Lead the way, Sire."
Angel's face softens as he cups Spikes chin in his hand, "Tonight. we are as we were intended to be. You're whole now. I'm whole now." Leaning his head down, he brushes his lips against Spikes'. Stroking the back of his Childe's neck, he pulls away and urges him down the lamp-lit street.
As they make their way up the hill, Spike's body visibly tenses, but Angel continues on.
"There?" He points towards the mansion, Angel's old home. "We're going there? Don'tcha think the crypt's got a better. Angel, that place. We didn't share a lot of good times there, mate."
"Well, I guess we'll just have to start some new ones, then."
With that, Angel swings the door open. Spikes' reaction is disbelief - his face reflects shock and amazement as he takes in the newly furnished and completely transformed manor. "Welcome home, Will. It's all yours now."
"Angel! When did you do this? How? When did this happen?"
Angel laughs "You're welcome."
"Really Angel!!! Tell me! You never left m'side."
"A couple of favors were called in. Wanted to give you a gift for after your. procedure."
Spike's mouth was still open, his head turning about, eyes scanning, absorbing everything he could possibly drink in. "God's Angel."
"Thought it suited you more than that little hole you were calling home."
Spike's head drops and he stares for a long while at the floor and the tips of his boots. Trying to collect his thoughts, feeling grateful, not an emotion he's used to feeling. It ties his tongue in knots, and he finally lets go "Nobody ever did anythin' like this fer me before."
"That's a shame William. You deserve more than this."
His head lifts as he stares into the chocolate brown eyes, the smiling face before him reflecting lifetimes of love, passion, loss, intensity, grief, desire. "Thank you, Sire."
Without word, Angel slips his hands around Spike's waist. Pulling him close, he leans his head down and a soft, wet tongue slips out to taste the smaller mans' neck. Trailing circles down towards his collarbone, and lingering on the small scar just above.
Spike instinctively tilts his head to the side, an act of complete submission that he would only give his Sire. Angel understands the offer. Understands precisely what that means. Tonight, Spike doesn't need his lover; he needs the touch of the demon who made him. His creator. Angel himself needs this. Craves this, burns for this.
He can feel the ache smoldering in his veins. He wants his Childe tonight. Wants what always should have been. Compelling him, commanding him, rendering him, and consuming him. The creases on his brow deepen. His eyes flash gold, as he brings two shaking hands to the front of Spike's shirt, ripping down the middle and leaving only threads in its' place.
Spikes body arches upward, offering his entire being to the man towering above him. Angels' fangs slice lusciously into the tender flesh, and he begins to drink of his Childe. Hands feverishly grabbing at Spike's hips, crushing and tearing into the skin. Spike allows himself to go limp, willing a deeper surrender, a giving of complete and intact being.
This is what defines him. The giving of his full existence to the Master before him, a submission no one has ever possessed of him. A growl bursts from Angel, reverberating from his chest, bouncing off the walls in the room. "Yield to me, Childe!!!" The command deafens him. His knees fail, as he falls to the floor.
Angel places a heavy hand on the smaller mans head, working his fingers into the blonde hair. His fist closes on the platinum strands and he pulls hard, lifting Spike's head up. "All of me, Sire. You have all of me."
"You're in me, boy. I can feel you moving through me. You taste.like life."
Overcome, Spike averts his eyes, letting out a heavy sob. A wicked smile crosses Angels face, and he starts "Stand!"
Spike does as he is bid, rising to his feet. Eyes still focused on the floor, never daring to meet with the dominant demons.
"Excellent, William. Undress."
Without hesitation, he responds to the command, brushing off his duster, removing the tattered remains of his shirt. Unbuckling his belt. "Slow down, Childe. I'll savor this part." Spikes movements lose pace, as he languidly slips the leather strap from its' denim loop. So slow, agonizingly slow, he pushes the strap through the buckle.
"That's it Childe. Gods, but you're beautiful. Amaze me, you do."
Spike's face feels hot; the precipice of this exchange is overpowering. His fingers pull open the buttons of his jeans, exposing his arousal to his Sire, feeling the flood of shame from his lack of restraint; he bites down hard on his lip. Angelus would have punished him severely over readying himself before his Sire had permitted him.
Hands trembling, he bends, removing his shoes, slides his pants down his legs and steps out of them. Standing, eyes cast to the floor, tremors running up and down his spine, he waits nervously for the next instruction. Angel steps towards him, placing his hand on Spike's hip, his body tenses, preparing itself for the strike. Instead, Angel begins trailing his hand over Spike's lean form, running his fingers over the smooth skin, and pressing into the muscles of his backside.
"Something you want to ask me, Childe?"
"Yes, Sire."
"Speak."
Timidly, Spike questions "What are you doing?"
Angel, closing his lids, and leaning his head against Spikes collarbone "Remembering."
A muffled cry escapes Spikes lips, once again, body tensing awaiting the punishing blow.
"Childe."
"Yes, Sire."
"Are you waiting for something?"
"Yes Sire."
"Is that what you need?"
Eyes, filled with the tears he's fighting against shedding, he continues to scan the floor "Yes, Sire."
"You've been disobedient, have you Childe?"
A ball, forming in his throat, making it difficult to respond, choking out "Yes, My Sire."
"You need to be disciplined, Childe."
Spike begins to pant heavily; Angel's hand betrays the emotions he's now feeling "Please, Sire."
The heavy open hand lands a brutal blow to Spikes backside. "I'll wait for you there," Angel motions towards the burgundy armchair in the sitting room "You'll bring me your strap."
With that, the darker man walks into the next room, positioning himself on the heavy armchair. Spike falls to his knees, and feverishly pushes the pile of clothes around until he finds his belt. The memories preventing him from rising immediately, he fingers the leather, allowing himself a moment to catch an unneeded breath.
Angel watches him from across the room, burying himself in his own memories. How many times had he sent his boy to get a strap, bent him over and beat him mercilessly into submission. Tonight would be different. He would do this for his boy. He would love him more with each thundering connection between the strap and the tender flesh. He would show him the weakness, something Angelus never would have allowed. And he would show him the brutality, something Angel could not have done. I am one, now. He would be his Childe's Sire. He would love him, mind, body, soul. He would give himself over to the boy, entirely. He would mark him, make him his all over again.
Lifting his gaze, he sees the most beautiful creature he's ever set eyes on. The pale form standing before him, eyes averted, offering him the leather strap. This breaks Angels resolve. He leans out, wrapping his arms around Spike's waist, pulling him close; Angel presses his face against his Childe's stomach. Spike's arousal only inches from his lips, Angel begins to blow softly on the weeping tip. Spike moans "Please. I need this. Need you. I need my Sire."
Breaking his embrace Angel understands. Tonight could not be a gentle taking, a slow and soothing love. Tonight must reclaim the Sire/Childe union. His hand reaching out to take the belt, he lets a placating finger brush the top of Spike's hand. Against his previous schooling, Spike allows his own finger to caress Angels, in recognition. Acknowledging it was understood. Briefly, Angel's eyes flicker with the tenderness. "Position yourself, Childe." Angels voice, steady and calm. It has begun.
Spike kneels before him, palms open on the floor. Angel cringes at the sight. The unattached posture, without intimacy, this would have been for Angelus. Angelus would not have allowed his Childe the comfort of his touch as he was being disciplined. He would have none of this.
"Childe, you'll lie across my knee." Spike's head snaps up to face his Sire, a look of complete shock in his eyes. "NOW!" Angels voice thunders his command, eyes fierce and warning him. Spike responds, moving quickly to place himself over his Sire's legs. His body quakes, knowing he cannot conceal his arousal in this position, with his erection pressed firmly into Angels' thigh. He would be reprimanded cruelly for this.
Feeling the trembling boy against him, Angel realizes the fear in Childe will interfere with their coupling. He runs his cool hand over the backs of Spike's legs, resting on his sac, gently fingering and caressing. Spike buries his head into the armrest and moans. "That's it, boy. You'll not be punished for that. You'll feel all that I give you. Do you understand me?"
Spike, unable to speak, simply nods. A hard blow lands on the back of his legs. "I can't hear your answer."
"Yes, Sire."
Another blistering crack "YES SIRE, WHAT?"
"Yes Sire, I understand you!!" Spike coughs out.
Angels' hands now caress the raised flesh, soothing it. "Good, Childe. Now you'll tell me of your disobedience." Moving his fingers back to his Childe's aching sac, he continues his stroking.
"While you were sleeping, I touched you."
The comforting hand moves from between his thighs and the whistling of the belt cutting the air lands sharply across his backside. Angels voice hoarse "You're not to touch me without permission, Childe. Tell me what you did." Once again, the hand has returned to its' previous task, kneading and stroking the sac between Spikes thighs.
"I . tasted you. I took you in my mouth." Angel closes his eyes, remembering being awakened by the most luxurious sucking between his thighs. How could he punish him for that? He wouldn't. Angelus would. He wouldn't. His hands continue working over Spikes sac. "You'll not be punished for that either, lad. Tell me of something else."
Spike stiffens.could he tell him? Would he be forgiven? The one thing that would have been intolerable had Angelus known. Angelus would have sent him full force into the sunlight had he known. But this was not Angelus.
"Speak Childe. There is something you want to tell me; I can smell it on you. Your body is rippling with it."
"I.We.Darla."
Angel's face goes taut. His body stiffens. Why is his boy shaking violently on his knee with her name? He knows William never cared for her, but this is something else.Darla never could be bothered with his boy, and had even less patience with his girl. The reaction in Spike was something more than the hatred for her utter indifference towards he and Dru.
When they were a family, Darla would accuse him of loving his William, and force him to punish the boy viciously "To teach him, your boy is unmanageable. He needs to be broken."
He loses himself in the memories. He remembers protesting the abuse privately with her, but as a Sire, he could never reveal this reluctance openly. She would berate him for loving his boy "Too much! His scent covers you! He'll never become a Master with that sort of guidance! Is that what you want for your favored Childe!!!" She would hiss, as the words would cut into him.
No. No he could not allow his William to be unguided, unschooled. He would educate him. He would walk in, stand squarely above the boy, and join his gaze with those stormy blue eyes. His boy would have suffered any indignity he would have thrust upon him. He did it willingly, as it meant he had his Sire's undivided attention.
He remembers the night he had arrived shortly before dawn, knowing his 'family' would be panicked, walking towards the door - he could hear his Sire reprimanding his girl "You're going to stop that crying! If 'Daddy' hears you, he'll be angry! What have I told you about ill-disciplined daughters? If you continue this, Daddy will leave and never return."
He swung open the door, and found a mop of white lace and long black hair draped over his boy, Dru's chest heaving sobs into his comforting arms, his boys' face ashen. Darla smiled sweetly at him "Angelus, you're home. See Dru, he's here now."
He grabbed his Sire by the arm, and dragged her into the next room. Something that was strictly forbidden. Laying hands upon your Sire is an unthinkable act, especially in front of their inferiors. He loomed over her aggressively in full game face "Y'should NEVER tell them I'll abandon them! Y'should NEVER instill that fear in them! You NEVER did that to ME! I'll not have you doing this to them!"
"I didn't have to, Angelus! You love them so that they're dependent upon you for their very survival! You do them a great disservice Childe!!!"
"Y'loved me in the same way, and I learned all that I needed!"
"I NEVER loved you the way you love them, especially THAT BOY!" The revulsion in her voice sliced him open.
"A warning, My Sire - If I hear any talk of this again, I'll take them, and leave."
"You'll do as I bid!"
"You've been warned." He left her standing there, and took the shaking pair into his bed. Held them both, as they clung to him desperately. Showed them the affection he rarely permitted them.
He remembers Drusilla falling into a fitful sleep, and the boy, shaking much like he is at this moment, covering his shoulder with tears. He stroked his neck, comforted him, but the boy was nearly inconsolable. He covered the boy with his body, and took him gently. Tenderly, he loved him for hours. It was the first time he had taken him that way since their first night.
He loved him until his Williams' eyes were dry, and the lids were half shut in pleasure. He whispered the same words that he'd sired him with. "You'll live forever in me, I'll live forever in you. I'll give you my life, and die for you, My Childe."
It was the following evening when he realized, he knew that he'd allowed the boy in too far, he knew he'd need to teach him to survive on his own. It was then that he'd set the precedent for the wound he'd make in his William, the wound that would never heal.
He would leave them, more pointedly, him - his boy. He would allow the darkness to overwhelm him, and take his long absences. In the beginning, telling himself it was to school the Childe. In the end, it was to test the Childe's loyalty to his Sire. To push him to the edge, just to watch the conflict. To see his eyes light up, as he'd walk through the door, after being gone for months at a time. His Childe's loyalty never wavered.
He places his hands on the armrests, "Tell me Childe, what did Darla do to you?" Bracing himself, he coaxes his boys' response.
His words came slowly, "You left, Darla blamed us. I didn't believe 'er, but Dru. she was so sad. Said 'Grand-mum made 'im go. Told Daddy we were bad. Made 'im leave.' I couldn't make 'er see. Couldn't calm 'er down. For years with 'er nightmares an' 'er screams. Darla would laugh at 'er. Tell 'er she was always a 'spoilt childe'."
"I came 'ome one night an' there's Dru in this ball on the floor, and Darla sleepin' on the chair. Thought she was sleepin', anyway. Dru. she 'ad given 'er somethin'. Guessin' Darla 'ad been on one of 'er benders, blamin' us. An' there's Dru, cryin' an' sobbin' an' scratchin' 'er arms bloody. She tells me we 'ave to kill 'er. It's gonna bring you back."
Angel presses himself further into the chair, as though he could crawl inside it, and distance himself from the pain. "Go on, Childe" he urges, even though his mind is screaming for the pain in his chest to cease. He knows his boy needs this.
"I didn't want to, I wanted to jus' take My Dru an' leave the bitch. But Dru wouldn't 'ave it. Said she 'ad to die, an' we're gonna be a proper family again. An' I can't make her stop, can't calm her down. Says when Darla wakes up, she's gonna kill us, for sure. That's when I see, she's taken off three of Darla's fingernails, and m'stomach goes sick. I know I gotta save my girl. Know that Darla'd kill me, just to make Dru watch. Know this. So I pick 'er up, and carry 'er outside, and Dru is standin' in the doorway, singin' and twirlin' now. I drop Darla by the tree around the front, and come back to Dru, and she's still spinnin' and holdin' up the fingernails. I ask 'er why she took those. She says 'Grand-mum always scratched too much'."
"The blood. The back of 'er dress is covered in blood. Now I'm mad, blind with the rage, cause I know she must've sunk those nails into Dru that night, made the girl suffer terrible for 'er to snap on her elder like that. An' I get some rope, an' I tie it around Darla an' the tree. An' I get your belt, the one she was so fond of using on us after you left. An' I can't stop, an' I'm hittin' 'er, an' I can't stop."
His body is shaking so fiercely; it's in danger of landing on the floor. "An' 'ere comes Dru, an' she's holdin' this bottle, an' I ask 'er where the fuck she got holy water! An' she tells me 'It's Grand-mums'. She used it to wash Daddy from me tonight.'"
"I can't see now. M'head's spinnin' an' I can't see nothin' but red. I take the bottle outta Dru's pretty hand, an' soak that belt. Then I'm swingin' like a madman. Hard as I can. Darla wakes up, an' she's screamin'. she's swearin' t'the Gods that she's gonna send Dru an' I straight to hell, she is. Then she's screamin' at Dru, an' tellin' 'er you never loved 'er, you only loved me. An' that's why Daddy left, an' it's all 'er fault. An' Dru is wailing now. An' I rip open the lying bitch's dress, an' I take 'er. An' cover 'er repulsive mouth with my hand, an' I call Dru to come feed. An' we drain 'er, but not entirely, cause I want 'er to be awake when the sun comes up
Then we left 'er, tied to the tree. Don't know 'ow she got outta that, never really cared, I guess. Cause Dru an' I were free. An' we ran until the dawn, and we hid, then we ran more that next night, an' we kept runnin'."
Spike finishes his confession, and shudders against the legs beneath him. This was the only way he could have told him. He could never have looked in his eyes and recounted the horrors of that night. The rage, the pain, it was too severe. But in this position, being absolved, as he was, by his Sire.
But was he? Angel was unmoving. He dared not raise his eyes, for fear of what he'd find in Angel. He'd committed acts of sacrilege against his Grand-Sire. Angel may have been his creator, but she was the Master who created him. Could this be unforgivable? He waited in agony, sobbing against the armrest.
Angel sat in distress. He had caused all of this. It had been him, and his foolishness. His lack of restraint when it came to his boy. He knew this would elicit jealousy and anger from his Sire. He knew she would exact her revenge on him. What better way, than to torture his girl. The last remnant of what was.
When his soul had been restored, he would wander at night, reeling in pain, remembering. Crying out for his William. He knew he could not return in that condition. When he tried, he had disguised it as a yearning to be close with his Sire. He knew that was the only way he'd be allowed back in, close enough to touch his Childe again.
He couldn't. his soul wouldn't allow it. They knew. When he'd left for good, he had turned to see his William, standing there, staring after him, shoulders slumped. But it was his eyes; they were pleading with him, so much pain reflecting in them. He was completely torn, in that moment. Would have given anything to comfort him, but he knew. He didn't belong there anymore.
His Childe would have to rely on all he'd learned. He would become a Master alone. He wouldn't be there to celebrate his victory over the first slayer. He'd learn about it through talk of 'William the Bloody'. He'd felt the nagging draw on his soul when he'd heard. He'd hung his head low, and wished he had been there that night, to properly acknowledge his Childe's victory.
Spike's mind was racing. 'He's not moving, he hasn't said a thing. Is this over? Angelus was about tradition. Angel rejected this entirely. Who am I with? Will he touch me again?'
He could feel Angel shift beneath him; he could sense his hand hovering over his back. Moving just above him, he can feel the presence gliding inches away from his body. 'Touch me' his mind begged 'Tell me this isn't over. Tell me it's you. Show me.'
Angel's body drooping forward, as Spike feels a trickle of moisture on the base of his shoulder blade. Another drop. 'He's crying.'
Angel's hand finally connects with Spike's back. Spike continues sobbing. The cool hand comforts him; velvety strokes caress the flesh beneath. Angels' hand relaxes, the thud of the belt dropping to the floor. Spike bites down hard on his lip. Angel bends to kiss the base of his neck, and Spike falls to the floor.
Desperately grabbing for the strap, keeping his eyes averted, he scrambles towards Angel's hand, and presses the leather into his fingers. "I can't." came Angels pained voice. Spike's chest heaves, his head still bowed. He kneels before him, tears streaming down his face and falling onto the floor.
Spike won't look up. He stays in that position, frozen. He is willing Angel to finalize this. "Will. Oh Gods, Will! Don't do this! Don't make me do this!"
A strangled cry escapes Spike's lips, his head bows lower. "Why won't you look at me? I don't want this!"
Spike's eyes squeeze shut. He can't respond, he was not commanded. 'Do this' he begs silently.
Angel stoops next to his Childe. "How could I punish you for what I've done? This was my fault, don't you understand that?"
A whimper coming from beneath him, Spike lays his forehead to the ground.
"Will, this was my fault. Everything that happened was my fault. Look at me." At that command, Spike raises his eyes to meet his Sire. Angel's eyes watery, his brow furrowed.
He knows he must instruct, understands this. "Speak, Childe."
"If it pleases you, Sire."
Angel groans "Ahh, Pup. not like this. It's just us."
"Yes, Sire."
"I'd die for you, My William. Please don't make me punish you for what I've done. It's my pain."
"Sire. give it to me."
A chilling recollection of the night he took Drusilla down, Angel shudders against the thought. "Y'need this, William?"
"Yes, Sire."
"You'll not suffer alone, Childe."
"Yes, Sire."
"You are me, do you understand, Boy?"
Spike's body stiffens, his Sire is here.
Angel rises to his feet, holding the belt, his eyes clench shut as he clears them of their tears. His shoulders square over the man genuflecting before him. He raises his arm, and lands the strap vehemently against Spike's back. "'Tis for what you've done, you've broken the teachings!"
Another blow lands swiftly on the back of Spike's thighs. The raised flesh stings as it sticks against the leather. "You've soiled our bloodline!"
One great hard strike after another, the belt now swinging wildly through the air, whistling and breaking the silence. With every connection between the strap and his skin, Spikes' body writhes. His hands curling into fists, knuckles bloodying the wooden slats, eyes squeezed tightly shut.
"Derision!" Angel's voice resounds with each powerful blow. "Insolence!"
Spike can almost see the belt lashing against him; his body splotched in reddened bloody welts. The hardness between his thighs throbs inches away from the ground. Rumbling lashes lick his backside. "YOU DARED FEED FROM YOUR ELDER! YOU DARED TO ENTER HER WITHOUT COMMAND!"
The anger and cruelty in his voice lays heavy on Spike. His body slick with torn flesh. "YOU WERE INFECTED WITH THE POISON OF PRESUMPTION, CHILDE! THE TEACHINGS MEANT NOTHING TO YOU!! YOU DAMNED ALL THAT WAS SACRED TO US!!"
Conquered, Spike's body goes limp into the ground beneath him. Angel removes his shirt, and bends over the pale form of his Childe. "Open me." He commands as he extends his arm in front of Spike's lips. "Do NOT drink!"
Spike complies, slicing his Sire's wrist with his fangs. Angel's blood dripping and pooling over Spike's face, he grabs the platinum hair, and pulls the boy to his knees. "Stand."
Spike struggles to rise, the weakness from the beating making it difficult. Angel guides him to a large formal dining room, with a heavy oak table. "Arrange yourself."
Spike bends over the table, letting his chest rest on the top for support, his arms stretched before him.
Angel winces at the bloody and beaten body. He shakes his head, willing the painful emotions that are now flooding him to leave. His boy needs this. His boy begged him. He will do this.
His hand reaches for his slacks, opening them and pushing them down to expose his flaccid member. "Open your legs, boy."
Spike's feet move further apart, opening himself up completely for the final act. His deliverance.
Angels' hand slides down his own shaft, stroking it into hardness. He closes his eyes and pictures his boy kneeling before him; no blood covered wounds that his hands have inflicted. He is perfect, his body is whole, and his hips move, drunk with the want.
Besieged with conflicting emotions, his desire to comfort his lover at odds with his obligation to carry out his Childe's wishes. 'Who am I? Who am I to deny him this? His absolution, when my soul has burned for its' own.' Spike's subservient posture compels him. 'Give this to him. Do this for him. You bade that he give you his pain. Give him yours!'
Once again, his voice steady and calm "By my hand, I'll teach you deference to your elders. You will know your place, and you will never again fall out of favor."
Spike moves his feet as far apart as he can manage, exposing his puckered entrance to Angel's hardness. Angel moves his blood soaked wrist over his shaft, coating it slick. One hand now grips hard at Spikes' side, and he stabs himself into the passage with an unstoppable and sadistic thrust.
Spike cries out in pain as he feels his channel rip against the violent assault. Angels' hips piston madly against his Childe's backside. His free hand lands on the pale and battered shoulder, as his William screams out for forgiveness. Quickening the pace, Angel pummels into him. His fingers move to his mark, gently sweeping across. Such tenderness in stark contrast with the carnage his thrusts are inflicting. Spike moves away from the touch, and propels himself back towards the abusive onslaught.
"YOU RISK CHALLENGING ME?!" Angel grabs for the belt, and wraps it around Spike's neck, pulling him upward at an impossible angle. Both hands holding either end of the strap, Spikes' body arches against his own. The cruel assault to his passage continues now at an even more vicious rhythm, lifting him from his feet and slamming him against the invading column. Repeatedly piercing into him, tearing him.
"I am your Sire." Angel hisses.
"Sire!!!!" Spike screams out. Angel hurls the belt across the room; Spike falls forward onto the table, tears and borrowed blood pool around his face.
Angel moves his hand back to his mark. "MINE!" He roars as he snaps down, fangs tearing into the defined scar, and he drinks. Draining the fear and guilt from his William. Tasting the familiar flavor of release. His body pulsates as he delivers his pain into his Childe.
Slumping next to him, Angel breathes out a heavy sigh. Shuts his eyes tight, and pleads with the gods that he is never asked to hurt his boy again. Spike curls up in a ball on the table, Angel moves into him protectively.
Subjugated, Spike softens to his touch, allowing himself to sink into the flesh enveloping him. Angel lifts him to a sitting position, and looks into his eyes. Spike offers a slight smile, and moves his head onto Angel's shoulder.
"You're hurt."
"Yeah."
Angel places a light kiss on Spike's forehead, and slips his arm under his knee. Moving to stand Spike lets out a small groan of pain. Tears begin to streak Angel's face, as he wordlessly carries his boy to the bathroom upstairs.
The steam from the water fills the room, and Spike leans against the back of the oversized tub, feeling the warmth wash over him. Angel steps into the bath and sits facing Spike. He wrings a washcloth over the already healing wounds. Spike moans quietly, letting his head drop. Angel continues his gentle cleansing, vacillating between caressing and swabbing his Childe.
"You're good to me, Sire."
"You look exhausted, Will."
"That I am."
Angel nods, and rises to his feet, extending his hand to Spike. Spike slowly stands, his body aching, but his hand firmly holding his Sires'.
Angel presses his lips to Spike's, gently prodding and begging entrance with his tongue. The most careful teasing and softest claim, Spike opens his mouth to his Sire's pleadings. Angel pulls back and stares at his Childe, running a finger over the scarred brow, before placing his own forehead to Spike's. A sigh passes between the two demons. It speaks volumes, generations of guilt and loss.
"I'm tired, Sire."
Without a word, Angel slips an arm around Spike, and helps him to the bed waiting outside the door. Spike crawls under the covers, and his hands instinctively reach out for Angel, bringing him close as he buries his head into the well-muscled chest of his Sire.
"I love you, Will." Angel whispers, as he comforts his Childe with soft strokes in his hair.
"I love you too, Angel." Spike offers sleepily, before drifting slowly into the blackness.
*****