They walked the rest of the way in silence. Within five minutes they were there. Wesley booked in and tried not to be furtive. Two men, no luggage save one tiny overnight bag, one room? - he felt a clandestine shame washing over him and refused utterly the offered assistance to the room.

He was silent in the lift. He fumbled with the key. They stepped in and looked around. Spike folded his arms in annoyance and looked expressively at Wesley. `Twin beds? You booked a room with shagging twin beds?'

`I didn't think and... I don't want to think... oh God.' Wesley sat on the end of one bed with his hands over his face, his desperate mood in the alley dissipating in the neutral sterility of the over-lit hotel room. `One minute all I can think about is your body. You took me in an alley, for God's sake. That sort of thing just doesn't happen to me. And God, what am I saying? Maybe I should start with the fact you're a vampire... I mean that's rather important, wouldn't you say? And Angel... my God, I should have started with him... he nearly killed me for the baby; what would he do if he could see us... what are you doing? Oh.' Wesley leant back a little as Spike started a slow striptease, just undoing the bottom button on his shirt and sliding his hand in onto his belly.

`Go on, pet; don't mind me.'

`Err... yes... so, it's not surprising I didn't think about beds. Do you know I've never had sex in a hotel room? And I'm here...' The second button revelled some of the hard muscular body to Wesley, and his voice dropped a little in tone. `...here with a vampire for God's sake, one who would...' Spike let the shirt drop to the floor and stood with his head bowed as if a willing sacrifice. `... kill me if he could... ` Each inch of the zip intrigued Wesley. How could Spike make it take so long to go down? `... if it wasn't for that chip...' Engorged, vertical, unwavering in the harsh hotel lighting, Spike's cock dominated the room. The sound of jeans hitting the floor was unheard by either of them.

`Suck me, Wesley. Make it good.' Wesley fell to his knees and to the cock he wanted in his mouth more than he cared about his own life for that split second of time. Spike reached behind him, switched off the light and leant back against the wall, just glancing down every so often at the hungry human attached to him. He spread his arms and rubbed the soft hairs of his forearms on the flocked wallpaper, tickling himself as a deep feeling of contentment washed over him. Was there anything to compare to a blowjob from a human? Yes, Wesley would gag if he pushed in too far. Yes, he needed to breathe and couldn't maintain the supernatural pressure of a vampire's mouth, but it was so ... degrading? ... uplifting? He was letting the prey bring him off. He was fornicating with the enemy. Fuck it; it was just warm and soft and the tongue felt bloody great... oh, yeah, under the foreskin... over the tip... good boy Wes; you learn quick.

Spike risked putting his hands on Wesley's hair and just encouraging him a little more onto his root. He was desperate to feel the back of Wesley's throat and groaned when the human unexpectedly relaxed his muscles enough for him to slip down. `Yeah, luv, do that again, please.'

Wesley tried to nod, and did as he was asked. `Ahh, yeah, that's good; now use your teeth a bit, too... `s good. Again. Yeah.' Spike ran his fingers through Wesley's long, thick hair and began to thrust towards his mouth a little. `Hmm, up and down, up and down, that's good, luv, that feels so good.' His balls began their familiar tingle, and he reached down and encouraged Wesley's hand to fondle them as he sucked. He braced his legs and spread himself open some more so Wesley could nuzzle into his whole area. Wesley's hands became as frantic as his mouth. He was making greedy mewing noises, as if he wanted more and couldn't get it. Spike decided it was time to give him more. He leant back and allowed his balls to jettison into the human mouth and his sperm to wash over Wesley's throat and pour down faster than the human could swallow... but the human didn't pull away until he felt the penis in his mouth soften. Only then did Wesley collapse, holding his throat and coughing painfully.

Spike dragged Wesley onto his back and straddled him; he bent down sucking at his mouth; he licked across the scar and, once more, entwined his fingers in the soft hair, pulling Wesley like a rag doll up to his mouth.

Wesley was full of vampire, smothered by vampire, overwhelmed by vampire: Spike seemed everywhere, blotting out and obliterating pain, worry, fear, insecurity, self-doubt. He was just a man with a man's needs, and he did not think further than the male body fulfilling those needs in that room.

When he leant into Wesley's mouth, Spike raised up slightly. When he lowered, he found himself sitting on a warm, exploratory hand. He looked down with approval but did not speak, fearing to break Wesley's almost trance like mood. Wesley ran a finger up and down Spike's crack; he pulled it to the front over the hardening penis. He discovered Spike's perineum; he held the soft, cool balls and marvelled at the perfection of the fit in his palm. He went to the place that scared him and intrigued him in equal measure, and just placed a tip of his finger there, not pushing, not stroking - just sensing the indentation and the rough puckered skin. Spike groaned faintly and put his face into Wesley's shoulder, lifting up some more in encouragement. A soft whispered `Try it' eased across Wesley and make him feel bold. He licked his finger and placed it back, this time pressing. He gasped when it went in quite easily and lightning did not strike him. Spike chuckled against his shoulder and wriggled a little on the finger.

`I want to find... you know. How do I... oh, God, it's so embarrassing.' Spike reared back and braced his hands on Wesley's chest, a look of exquisite pleasure on his face. `Oh! Good! I imagine I've found it then?'

Spike nodded slightly but then rolled his head around on his shoulders as the old, familiar pleasures began to build. `'S been too long, too long, too long... I need this...' Speaking more to himself than to Wesley, Spike's voice was low and almost ragged with desire. `Harder, play with me hard; I need it.'

Wesley suddenly sat up and pushed Spike backward with his free hand onto the floor. He now knelt to Spike's entrance and could watch with eager participation as he shoved his finger up to the knuckle. Spike almost howled, but choked it off and wriggled some more in delight. `Even harder, harder; I need cock there; make it like a cock for me.'

It wasn't hard to do. Wesley was strong; he had large, powerful hands and strong fingers honed from years of fighting and training with Angel. He rammed his finger in until the knuckles of his hand slammed into Spike. Spike, his eyes shut and hidden under one folded arm, panted out ragged encouragement as Wesley began to work the finger as if he were oiling down a weapon. He felt he could give more, so added another finger, then a third. It felt incredible; Spike's anus was soft and almost warm and so smooth; it stretched around his fingers like a strong band, teasing and tempting him further in. He pulled out a little and squeezed in his last finger, four strong human fingers working inside the tight walls. He forgot about the spot he had wanted to find - from the look on Spike's face and from the hissed, delighted obscenities, he seemed to be hitting it unconsciously. He concentrated on the wiggling and the thrusting. It was so frustrating, he wanted to thrust higher; he wanted to make Spike scream for more, but he couldn't... unless... he pulled out again fractionally and eased his thumb past the stretched ring. Six inches now, Spike tore and Wesley slid in on the slippery fluid. He stopped, shocked, but suddenly hands were on the back of his head; incredibly strong abs were holding Spike upright and Spike's face appeared in front of him ... and he was desperate. Wesley had never seen such raw need on Spike before. He began to push his fist in, overwhelmed by what he was doing, afraid, but the face held him in a hypnotic stare of encouraging need... and then the one word hissed out from lips close enough to kiss. `More.'

It was all he needed. Wesley used his fist as if he were punching at the unfairness of his life. It was like running in water - you got nowhere, but it exhausted you. Spike flung himself back and drew his legs up, his rectum absorbing the pounding, the blood running freely down Wesley's forearm as he grunted and shoved and worked inside the hard, invulnerable body. He began to sweat and the droplets fell into his eyes, stinging. He began to pant and realised he could not hear it for Spike's moaning.

Wesley wanted to thrust harder, needed to hold onto something for support, found a hard, cold column of flesh and grasped it like a handle. That brought the scream he wanted, and with the scream a violent shudder from the vampire as he creased up and ejaculated over his belly and chest. Wesley continued to punch into Spike until the last twitch of the penis in his hand, and when the moaning stopped, heard his own heartbeat loud in the room. Sweat, blood, cum: he was covered in all three. He lay on top of Spike, heedless of his weight, and waited for his heart to stop pounding. Spike seemed to be thinking of this, too, for a hand slid between them and lay against his racing heart. He thought he heard another faint moan, and smiled at the simplicity of that sound.

All time seemed to stop for them. They lay tangled on the floor in pools of their own fluid. Wesley thought he might have dozed, for he suddenly started at Spike's soft nuzzling into his ear and quiet, amused observation. `You can pull it out now.'

Shocked, unprepared, overwhelming embarrassed, Wesley acted before thinking and wrenched his forearm out of Spike. Spike gasped and sat bolt upright again, half cursing and half laughing. `Bloody, fucking hell, watcher, I can tell no one's ever done that with you... just you bloody wait.'

Wesley felt a trickle of fear laced with anticipation run down his spine and could not help a curious glance at Spike's strong, perfectly shaped hand. Spike grinned and patted his cheek. `Undress, hey... we could do with a shower.'

Wesley nodded dumbly and tried to stand, but he had cramp in both legs and felt acutely embarrassed by what he had done to Spike. Spike half-lifted him onto the end of one bed and sat behind him rubbing his shoulders for a while before wrapping his arms around Wesley's neck and propping his chin companionably on his shoulder. `'S been nearly two hundred years since anyone's done that to me, pet, and I don't remember it being that good.'

`That was... good? I mean... I saw that it was... but... I had heard about such... but obviously never...'

`Yeah, I thought not. Lasses don't go in for it really; Dru never would either way.'

`Oh, good God.'

`Hey, pet, if you can't talk about it, don't do it.' Spike softened his injunction by licking Wesley's ear a little.

`Spike, I was brought up to talk about nothing. You know that. You must have been like me once... how did you...?'

`I had a good teacher, pet.'

`Angelus.'

Spike laughed. `Yeah.'

`He did... he used his...'

`Yep.'

`Oh?' Spike didn't reply to the maudlin self-doubt evident in this short reply; he only took Wesley's hand and, pulling it around, placed the fingers to his still stretched hole. He swirled them around again, and couldn't help a small groan of genuine pleasure at the feel once more.

`Is that making you hard again, Wesley? Do you like the feel of my hole?' Wesley nodded sadly to both questions. `Good, cus before the night's out, it'll be your cock bringing me off in here.'

Wesley tipped his head back, considering this possibility, and then nodded faintly. `Yes.'

Spike laughed at this overwhelming enthusiasm and started to drag Wesley towards the bathroom, but he suddenly paused, and a sparkle of glee flashed in his eyes. `Oh yeah.' He dived for the telephone and the room service menu, and began a long, complicated and thorough ordering for them both. Wesley watched over his shoulder, attempting to bring a modicum of restraint into Spike's enthusiasm to spend his money. When Spike rang off, Wesley glanced nervously down at the carpet, which was now badly stained by blood and other substances.

Spike followed his look, laughed and ripped Wesley's shirt off, dropping it over the offending marks. `See, watcher, think laterally...' Spike trailed off as Wesley's musky, human scent hit him. He stood up and pushed Wesley back against the wall, running his hands up through the soft hair on his chest. `God, I could eat you.'

Spike's harmless words, spoken only in the heat of his lust, made Wesley freeze. Spike laughed lightly at what he had said and stepped back, eyeing the watcher thoughtfully. Wesley watched him warily. `What? Spike?'

Spike gave the tiniest flick of one eyebrow and an infinitesimally small shrug - as if it was of no matter - and said causally, `You could let me have just a little snack, you know.'

Wesley backed away, sliding comically around the wall, his eyes unnaturally wide. `No.'

Spike shrugged again. `'K, no biggie.'

He turned away, but Wesley repeated more forcibly. `No.'

Spike grinned. `I said no biggie; don't get yer knickers in a twist `bout it. Oh, and speaking of which...' he turned back to the wary human and started to take off his jeans, casting amused glances at his face every so often. `Relax, pet; I can't if you don't want me to, remember?'

`It's not that I'm afraid of, Spike.'

Spike looked up sharply and saw it. Before Wesley could hide the look, Spike saw a flicker of desire to sink even lower, to explore the things he now only feared as nightmares. He stood back, regarding the human. `You know some humans get off on it, don't you, Wesley?'

Wesley nodded. `They are sick.'

`Possibly. Ain't nothing wrong in being sick, mate; in this world it's the healthy thing to be, I'd say.'

`Don't try and seduce me to do this, Spike. I won't cross that line. God, I've crossed enough lines with you already. I won't do it; so don't ask me to.'

Spike's reply was prevented as the room service arrived. Naked, Spike slid out onto the balcony and let Wesley, after some rearranging of his jeans, answer the door. Wesley brought two beers out into the warm night and passed Spike his cigarettes and matches. Spike took them gratefully and lit one, offered it to the human and, when it was refused, took a long, grateful drag himself. He stretched slightly, had a long drink from his beer and tipped his head back laughing.

Wesley watched him, amused. `What?'

`Unlife, pet, it has its moments.'

Spike turned and leant on the rail, smoking and drinking contentedly. Wesley wandered back into the room, feeling slightly disoriented. He had been so down and so up recently, he was beginning to lose his ability to tell which was which. He sat once more on one of the beds, drinking the beer and thinking about Spike. The pale body drew his eye. Spike's backside stuck provocatively towards him, swaying slightly as if to music only the vampire could hear. Wesley looked at the room service cart. He looked again at Spike. He stood up with a groan that he had meant to be resigned but wasn't sure didn't come out as just desperate and removed his jeans.

Spike heard Wesley's approach before he felt the hard bulge pressing into him. He tensed fractionally, waiting to see what Wesley would do. When a cool substance was pressed against his throbbing hole, he moaned appreciatively and glanced over his shoulder to see the human unwrapping a second pat of iced butter. He laughed, but Wesley only said seriously. `It's all I could find, and it's no worse than olive oil.'

`So, this is it, is it, watcher? Is this where you do the dirty deed?'

`Shut up, Spike; I'm finding this difficult enough as it is without your unhelpful comments.'

Spike laughed again and turned around, pulling the hesitant human to him for a kiss. `You idiot, Wes; it ain't difficult, and there's just us here... no one judging you, pet.'

Wesley laughed ruefully at his own seriousness then pursed his lips and, glancing briefly over the rail at the street some floors below, lifted up one of Spike's thighs. `Let's hope I don't push up too hard, hey, Spike,' and with that amused comment he eased himself into Spike's slippery and still stretched hole.

Face to face.

Spike grasped the rail behind him, his cigarette and drink falling from his hands; Wesley lifted the thigh higher for better access and, bracing his legs, started thrusting. The two naked men began an intense rhythm of sex on the balcony. Spike spread his arms across the rail and leant so far back that, for a moment, he could see the street upside down below him.

Wesley lifted Spike's other leg. Spike's biceps locked on the rail. Wesley thrust. Spike thrust back and wrapped his thighs securely around Wesley's waist, unwilling to test his healing powers on great heights again. Wesley looked down at the body wrapped around him, grunted with approval and allowed himself to concentrate on the feel of being inside another man's ass.

He had to admit, it was exquisite... far more so than he had anticipated. He couldn't decide if the eroticism of the act was entirely due to the feel of the tight channel encasing him, or whether it was that combined with the thought of what he was doing. He could not deny that they made an erotic picture together. Spike seemed lost in the sensation himself, and Wesley watched intrigued as pleasure flicked over the vampire's face. He experimented a little with the angle and depth of the thrusting and was rewarded by soft moaning and by the delightful view of Spike's penis swelling and wavering in the night air... but his legs began to falter. His arms ached to the strain of the position and, as if sensing this, Spike unwrapped his legs in one fluid movement and turned and bent himself against the rail. Wesley stood behind him, his penis now exposed. He stroked it a little and played it against Spike's hole.

Spike twisted around and looked down. `Yeah, do that again.' Wesley rubbed the sensitive tip to the puckered skin as much as he could bear, and was delighted to see a bubbling trickle of pre-cum, glistening against the red tip. Spike, still watching, hissed and continued his low encouragement, `Play with me some more, Wesley; let me watch you; hmm, that's so good.' Desperately wanting to be back inside, Wesley pushed on the small of Spike's back to get him to bend more, and then with a groan of desire, he entered once more.

No thoughts now. In this position, Wesley felt only cock: he had become erection. All thoughts leaked from him, as his pre-cum leaked into Spike. He was hard; he was embedded in tight ass, and he could release a lifetime's frustration into this body and have no repercussion from that violence. Wesley began.

Spike braced against the onslaught. He had not thought the watcher could be so strong. He pushed back against him, gripping the rail with his fists. He arched back and thrust up his backside, feeling he would split open to this human penetration. He heard Wesley's anguished cries as he tried to jettison his pain into Spike. The human became frantic, writhing and smashing into the hard backside. Spike held on. It was mind-blowingly good, and he relished the primordial taking and plundering. He knew when Wesley was about to cum for the harsh cries rose in pitch and became a staccato begging for release... and then it came. A hot spurting into his coldness, nails digging into him unconsciously, welts raked down his back, legs trembling against him, and still more hot fluid pumping into him and running out, tickling down his inner thighs.

Spike laid his forehead against the rail, reached down with one hand - now freed from the need to hold on - and began to pull himself to his own orgasm. Wesley began to pull out, but Spike whipped his other hand around to clamp him even close to his backside. `Press in more, Wesley.' His voice was ragged with desperation, and Wesley groaned at the softness of his penis. He could make no indentation in the vampire's pleasure for him. Suddenly, without conscious thought, he pulled away, and Spike let out a sharp expletive and increased the speed of his pulling as a cold, hard object was pushed into his opening.

Wesley didn't let thought come back into his brain. He just acted, just moved, just wanted to give pleasure, so he swirled the top of the thick green beer bottle around inside Spike, almost swelling himself to the guttural sounds of pleasure from the vampire. He pushed it in more, and more; he wanted to see how far he could go with this descent. Where was rock bottom? Was there somewhere so low that you could not climb back out? This was probably it. So he pushed harder to make sure. Spike screamed and came... over his hand, out through the rail - plops of cum falling like rain into the warm LA night - and Wesley fell with them. He pushed Spike over more, tipped the bottle, and emptied the rest of his beer into the new receptacle. Wesley looked down. Oh, there was somewhere even lower. he saw steps descending into the confines of his own damnation. He bent and licked at the alcohol dribbling out of Spike's ass.

It was too much even for Spike. The intensity of Wesley's mouth on him, the eager way his tongue probed him, the insistent sucking at the stretched edges of his hole, brought another brief, sharp orgasm and, as he stood hunched over, it splattered onto his feet and pooled a dark stain on the light grey concrete of the balcony.

Spike collapsed. Wesley collapsed.

It was cool and quiet at last.

Eventually, Wesley heard a match being struck. He saw a light flare behind his closed lids and thought briefly that he must be very close to Spike to see that.

He felt arms under his arms. He was placed on a bed. He heard water being run. He opened his eyes to examine the place he had taken himself to. It was very, very satisfying. Being right at the bottom, there was now only up - there was room for hope again. He smiled at the relief of having a clear path in front of him once more and opened his eyes for real.

`Bloody hell.' Spike's face was mere inches from his. The vampire bent down for a quick kiss then grabbed Wesley's hand and pulled him towards the bathroom.

`Bath's too small for two, you first, mate; I wanna surf the porn channels for a bit.'

Wesley started to give him a horrified look, but saw he was being teased and pouted a little. Spike laughed. `You've done me in, mate; I'll take at least... oh, ten minutes to recover from that; no porn `til then, hey?'

Wesley lay in the bath. He heard the television being turned on and the channels flicked. He heard sounds drifting up from the street and, just as in his apartment, noises from other rooms... oh. Bloody hell.

`Err... Spike.'

`What, pet.'

`Do you think we made a little bit too much noise?' There was silence as Spike considered this, thinking back over the blowjobs, the fisting, the fucking, the bottle, the rimming...

`Nah,' and the sound of another beer being opened drifted into Wesley in the tub. He slid under the water and let the odd pounding noise block any other sounds.

He was lying to himself, and he knew it. There was one more descent seducing him, and he feared that more than all the others... feared but also needed in equal measure.

He climbed quietly out of the bath and rummaged in his wash bag. He did not look as he did it: he kept his eyes fastened on the stranger in the mirror. As he pressed, he wondered if Spike had smelt it already and thought - when he saw the rigid back - that he had. He climbed onto the bed behind the naked vampire and pulled him back into his arms, resting comfortably against the headboard... and then he pressed it to Spike's mouth: the razor had done a good job on his wrist, and the blood flowed freely.

Like a starved kitten, Spike mewed and purred as the warm, fresh, human blood seeped into his mouth. It wasn't as good as arterial blood, but it held its own attractions. Wesley fed the vampire and almost swelled once more to the pleasure. He pulled away a little; Spike gently eased him back with small begging noises. He wriggled Spike slightly on his lap and enjoyed the feel of the cool body in his arms and the weight on his groin. He eased away again; Spike eased him back.

Spike was totally in his power, and that power was the final descent of all.

So low now there was no more distraction to stop him seeing the truth: in total darkness, no light blinded him.

Had he taken Connor to spite Angel? Had he been jealous of his beloved vampire's adoration for that mewling creature? Here, now, in the sanctity of his own degradation, Wesley could examine his motives for the first time, as the vampire suckled and licked and played and drank.

Why hadn't he told Angel what he feared? Why take the baby clandestinely? Why allow him to be stolen? Why consort with Angel's enemies? Spike's hand went to his pale penis, and Wesley watched his own blood flowing in and erecting the vampire's soft column of flesh. He felt Spike warming in his arms from his blood, and his reasoning only became clearer, for Spike felt as Connor had felt in his arms. He heard the soft cries of puzzlement as the trusting baby had been lifted from his cot and taken.

The warm air of the park flowed around him once more; he was carrying the baby... and then the pain, the terrible pain in his neck and the feeling of ...

The feeling of... had he felt relief that the baby had been taken from him? Small lights began to explode behind his closed lids; he did not remember closing his eyes. Why did he feel so tired? He had felt tired when Angel came into his hospital room. So tired, but so grateful: Angel had come to him. Angel wanted to forgive him. He was asleep now, and the sleep was deep and good and all was dark and quiet - until the hands! Angel's hands on him... the pain in his neck once more... the look on Angel's face... the hysteria in his voice he had never heard before. Wesley sat up with a cry and pushed Spike off. He took the bloody face in his hands and shouted at Spike, `I didn't mean to hurt him, I didn't; I wasn't jealous...` he started to laugh. `Spike! I did it for the right reasons and... and... Angel... ` He burst into tears, and as the ragged emotion washed over him, as the blood loss hit him, as the exertion of the night overcame him, Wesley passed out on the bed in a dead faint.

Spike was in something of a dilemma now. He had the very distinct feeling that he could probably continue to feed from the human until death, and he would never know it: the razor slash on Wesley's wrist still bled freely. Spike watched the flow of red into the harsh white sheets with disgust at himself. He didn't really deserve to be a vampire. He ripped up one of the napkins from the cart, bound up the wound, covered Wesley with a couple of blankets, and sat on the opposite bed watching him thoughtfully. Wesley had proved to be a good find, and Spike was pleased with him. He'd had some stunning orgasms and had enjoyed making Wesley cum as well.

So, the little problem of Angel, and Angel's. possessive nature, did have to be solved.

*****
Part 6:

Wesley was not the only one thinking that Angel might not take too kindly to this amusing little dalliance. Angelus would have enjoyed it... hell, Angelus would have initiated it, led it, and then fed most vociferously on Wesley when the human had been shagged out... but now... how would a soul affect Angelus' attitude to some of the more exquisite delights of unlife?

Spike tried to picture the scene.

A quiet day at Angel Investigations: Angel comes down the stairs dressed in grey (big surprise there then). Spike and Wesley, two gorgeous men dressed casually, but with effect, are working together in the office... fuck that...

Wesley, an associate of Angel's, is working in the office. Spike - the hero of this drama - is lounging in a provocative way on one of the couches.

Angel: `What are you doing?'

Spike: `Lounging provocatively.' Shit, dialogue was hard to do. Stick to the story.

They all decide it's boring and go upstairs and shag.

Hmm. Even Spike could see that this was a major work in progress. Bloody hell, couldn't anyone else do some planning for once? He was saving the watcher and Angel; he was working on Angel's erectile dysfunction - and oh, he just had to remember that little phrase to drop on Angel next time he saw him - and he was helping Angel `bond' with the fuckup. What more did everyone want? And all that from one plan! Someone else needed to help him keep Wesley and Angel, cus there was one sure thing - he wasn't going to give either up.

Spike lounged provocatively for a while, attempting to take his drama up into the bedroom, but found the action as hard to get right as the dialogue. His characters had an annoying way of going about their own business and ignoring him. Wesley had started to take a shower and Angel was reading a book, and however hard his imaginary self lounged or provoked, no one was shagging him.

He got bored with the fantasy and started flicking the TV channels again. He glanced over at the watcher and realised, with an exasperated sigh, that he would probably be out for very long while. He turned back to watch the telly but suddenly grinned, fished out Wesley's wallet, made a phone call and switched to a much more interesting channel. Oh, yeah. Now that was nice. Spike propped himself up on the pillows for a better view and took his erection, stiffened with Wesley's blood, in his hand.

The girl was on a sunlounger. She had on the briefest of bikini bottoms and her full, ripe breasts pointed deliciously at the cloudless blue sky. Spike watched that intense blue for a moment, then cursed when he realised he'd missed the bit where she pulled her panties aside. The result was good though; her folds opened in all their pink glory to the inquisitive investigation of the camera. As she worked herself, she began to glisten and Spike moaned slightly and increased the speed of his fist on his cock. The camera pulled back and the girl took a bottle of sun oil and dribbled it over her belly; the rivulets of warm oil dripped off her tanned, tight skin and over her fluffy curls.

Riveted, unwilling to look away, Spike leant over and twitched Wesley's blankets down a little - in case he was too hot, like. He glanced away from the TV then and smirked, pleased with the effect Wesley's soft cock and balls made on his tanned, smooth skin. He looked back. That was good, oily finger was now working over the folds, dipping into the creases and crevices, and the camera had moved closer so every droplet of oil sparkled in the sunlight on every soft, blond curl. Wesley's dark curls framed his... Spike giggled quietly, leant over to the cart and arranged some grapes decoratively around the human's soft, hairy globes. He laughed out loud at the effect and went back to watching the girl.

She had become inventive with the bottle of oil - it was disappearing inside, being thrust up to moans of pleasure - Spike was sure she was enjoying this for the camera panned up to her squirming, open mouth every so often, her lips opening and closing with the intensity of the pleasure from the pretend cock.

Spike shifted beds and moved his still life over to one side slightly so he could make better use of having two hands. He knew he was onto a loser expecting Wesley's blood-drained body to produce an erection - hell, he had most of Wesley's blood, and he was enjoying it very much, thank you - but he hoped a slight swell might be forthcoming. He stroked both penises and turned them into the bottle, feeling her tight walls for the both of them.

She withdrew the bottle, opened it and poured a handful of the glistening fluid right over her flushed, spread lips. Spike grinned, grabbed some maple syrup from the cart and did the same to Wesley. The cock was much more fun to pull now and he was getting some faint response. Wesley clearly felt this, too, for he groaned in his deep, coma-like sleep, and whatever dream had flickered across his mind, it helped Spike's enjoyment immensely. Wesley swelled, and the penis rose from its nest of fruit, the syrup running down as Spike hoped it would onto the soft, dark curls. He bent his head, his face still turned to the telly and sucked Wesley like a lollypop as he watched glistening oil pushed in and used to probe deeply into the ragged hole.

Oh. That was interesting. A cock appeared in the shot. A large, erect, cut cockhead hovered over the soft lips. It brushed against the curls; it explored the folds. The girl's moaning increased - as did Spike's sucking. The cock was magnificent, flushed purple and glistening as enticingly as the pink entrance waiting for it.

When the camera panned around slightly, Spike groaned so hard he had to stop sucking and concentrate on his own cock. The shot was now just to one side of the anonymous man's - anyman's - ass and it was hard, like granite, smooth and dimpled in all the right places. Anonymous hand reached out, and Spike waited for the inevitable penetration and was intensely pleased and surprised when the cock went lower, when the hand opened up another hole. He hopped off the bed and dragged the telly closer and to one side of the bed, praying he didn't disconnect the cable, then hopped back on... facing Wesley.

Was this immoral? He certainly hoped so.

He lifted Wesley's thighs and pressed himself to the girl's virgin ass. Obviously it was virgin ass - her look of theatrical shock told him that. He grunted as his cock slid in and she poured some more oil over both of them, the camera overhead with a perfect shot of her spread pussy and his glistening shaft pushing in through her tiny, tight ring. With his head turned to the side, watching, he smiled at the toned belly thrusting into her - not as toned as his, but he didn't expect they got many vampires in porn... and now, that was a thought, and a whole new plan... fuck it, this was good enough, and look at that bloody sky!

He began a slow working of his cock inside the girl. She groaned in a low, masculine, ragged voice, so he started to hum slightly to cover her up, but eventually leant over to turn the TV up, and that was much more effective. The music was good too - music for anonymous humping.

The girl was working herself as he pounded into her ass, her fingers wriggling in her hot cunt, rubbing hard on her clit. He'd seen girls rub harder, but then his experience was a little unique and he forgave her - she couldn't really compete with the dead or the supernatural.

She dipped her fingers into herself and shoved them in to match his thrusting and he knew he was beginning to cum. He smiled as the other butt clenched and stilled and, as the girl was filled by every anonymous man's cum, she screamed out her orgasm to the bright sunny day.

Spike grunted in satisfaction and pulled out. He looked down at Wesley and noted how pale he was looking, how cold his skin felt and pulled the blankets back over them both and made them as comfortable as possible in the narrow, single bed. He lazily watched the rest of the film for a while - more penetrations - it got dark - it got light again - he came a few more times, occasionally over Wesley, sometimes into the cool sheets. He stayed awake until the horse had finished, but then he drifted off into a pleasant, relaxed sleep, wondering briefly about events in the Hyperion, but not caring enough to stir.

Wesley woke first.

He stretched as best he could in the cramped bed and felt... wonderful. He felt completely relaxed as if a huge, immovable weight from around his neck had been cut loose. Whatever the outcome of Spike's plan, whatever happened between him and Angel, he knew now that what he had done, he had done for the best, and with the best of motives in his heart. Yes, he had been wrong. Yes, it had all gone terribly, terribly wrong... but, given the same information and the same set of circumstances, he would do the same thing again. He smiled and felt that his life could now go on. It might take different turns, turns that might take him away from Angel, away from LA, but it was not over... and that was a good thought. He turned his head and looked toward the bright sunlight behind the closed curtains. It seemed appropriate somehow, as if he were at the end of a long, dark tunnel and light was ahead of him.

He tried to stretch again and felt the hard, sinewy body pressed to him. the body that was so much of the darkness.

He felt strangely... sticky and started to pick squashed, extremely gummy grapes from his crotch with annoyance. The TV was hissing on full volume and had been dragged close to the bed. He leant over and switched it off. He had a worrying impression that he had been at a party in his absence. He looked at his bandaged wrist and then down at the sleeping vampire.

He had fed this creature his blood. Part of him was inside that. dead body. His blood was inside. that demon. Wesley sat up, feeling incredibly nauseous and tried to put this down to the blood loss, the over-exertion and not having had any supper. He hung his head and concentrated on not vomiting. He looked up when the waves of nausea passed and saw a bottle of beer open on the nightstand. He felt his stomach rise and just made it to the bathroom before he heaved and wretched dryly into the toilet bowl. Feeling better he stood weakly and crept back into the bedroom. He was afraid Spike would wake at the noise, and he didn't want to have to face him yet. He was about to slide back into his warm side when he looked down in dismay. The bed was full of bits of food; blood stains smeared the sheets; a familiar crusty yellowness mocked him from the white cotton; blood and. other substances streaked the carpet; food was squashed into every crevice of his body: it seemed Spike's party for one had been a fun affair for those that had been invited.

Wesley heaved again and dashed for the bathroom, holding his head weakly over the stained bowl. Finally empty, he sat on the edge of the bathtub, thinking. After a while he heard Spike groan, shift in the bed and curse slightly. Wesley got up, grabbed a towel and, tying it around his waist, went directly out in to the bright sunshine on the balcony. Even if Spike woke fully, he would not be able to come within half the room's width of him here. in this vampire-free zone.

The sun was incredibly good on his naked skin, and Wesley leant on the rail, watching normal life pass him by. Every inch of his body ached; his legs were stiff; his back hurt; one hand felt as if he had played a vigorous game of tennis; his head felt split open and throbbed its blood loss to the rest of his aching nerves. but his mind became calm when he thought about the baby. He tipped his head up as if acknowledging a debt to some higher being and allowed himself to think about Angel. He smiled. Angel understood about redemption and forgiveness. If Angel could see no guilt in his eyes, perhaps the vampire would understand why he had done what he had done.

He turned and glanced into the room once more. Spike was still comatose on the bed, and he was glad. He could not face Spike yet. He needed more time to think about this. this situation. What had he gotten himself into? Why was he allowing himself to be degraded by a vampire? He thought about Spike's body and noticed with alarm, but also some faint amusement that his cock twitched merely at the thought of that sinewy, hard form. Then he thought about the things he had done with that unnatural body, and he felt sick inside. in his heart, in his head - where he usually felt so pure. That was it. in one way he felt so vindicated, happy that he had forgiven himself, pleased he had a future. but Spike was like a dark smudge on this new start. He did not fool himself: his body wanted Spike, but his head and his heart wanted to move away from the darkness of guilt and on into the light of forgiveness.

He had been using Spike to explore the true meaning of pain, substituting Spike for another vampire he had wanted to confront those issues with.

Spike turned in the bed, and Wesley backed slightly more against the rail as if this simple act of turning threatened him. He wanted Spike to be gone from his life. but he needed Spike to confront Angel for him. It was a dilemma and a test of his resolve.

He went quietly back into the room. Seeing Angel again won out over self-disgust.

Spike either heard his entrance, or had been awake all along for without rising from the bed or opening his eyes, he said, `What time is it?'

Not noticing the lack of the usual fond names in Spike's address, Wesley glanced at his watch, informing Spike with surprise that it was nearly lunchtime. `No wonder I feel hungry.'

Spike wriggled one eyebrow and stretched lazily. `I don't.'

Wesley flushed. `Don't think that's going to be a regular feature of our relationship, Spike. I had some issues I needed to... well, suffice to say, I won't be risking that again.'

`Relationship? So you ain't falling down that `ole and not seeing me anymore then?' Spike sounded strangely bitter as he said this and sat up without catching Wesley's eye.

Wesley backed away, and the thought "No hole big enough" flashed across his mind, but he kept thoughts of Angel uppermost in his mind and sat next to Spike on the bed.

`I'm not sure I have any choice in the matter; I need you.' If Spike noticed the ambiguity in this reply, he didn't say. He gave Wesley an impenetrable look then slid his hand under the knotted towel. He fiddled around for a while then frowned.

`I'm disappointed, watcher; where's the early morning urgency I enjoyed the other day?'

Wesley eased the hand out and glanced at the detritus of sex in the bed. `It went away with someone's late night urgency, I think.'

Spike gave up and just moved closer for a kiss. He gave Wesley a light peck then sat back, studying the lack of response from the human. `We've not done that much, have we? Everything else, but not that.' He sounded almost wistful, and Wesley gradually felt a more responsive mood washing over him - he couldn't help it. He didn't want the degradation and the pain - lips, caresses and gentle endearments, however, he was starved for, and like any starving man. he fed when food was offered. He wanted those lips; he wanted the intimacy of kissing this vampire. He grasped Spike and pushed him back onto the bed; he climbed over him once more, laying his whole, heavy, warm body on him. Spike moaned in pleasure, and Wesley took the moan as his entry to the soft mouth he craved. Spike lost himself to the kiss. He didn't think about fucking or his erection; he was lost to Wesley. Kissing this human was almost as good as feeding off him, and even though he sensed Wesley was distracted, he needed this intimacy; he needed someone just to want him.

Wesley couldn't concentrate on the kiss; Angel still dominated his thoughts. Eventually he pushed Spike away and covered this action by exaggerating his need to breathe.

Spike made to hug him - as if the human's weakness made him even more desirable - but Wesley stood up and moved back into the sunshine that was streaking in through the window. With his back to Spike, he spoke firmly. `You should go. We need to get your plan to action. What's first?'

Spike frowned slightly. It never did to put one of his plans under too much scrutiny - they were usually better when they were allowed to evolve naturally. `Angel's being told soon. I wanna be there when he is.' He watched the human's back thoughtfully, but did not comment on the outcome of that musing.

Wesley did not feel Spike's gaze and replied rather hesitantly. `Oh.'

`What's that for?'

`I don't... I want... Spike, what if he doesn't care?'

Spike had no answer for this, so only swung off the bed and began to dress.

Wesley turned and watched. `What should I do?'

`Stay here. I'll tell you when it's time, and where. Hey, you can watch the porn channel; you've paid for it after all.' With that last amused comment tossed over his shoulder, Spike left before he felt belligerent enough to call the human on his fickle passion.

He made slow progress through the unfamiliar sewer system, still mulling angrily over the events of the morning with Wesley. He arrived, with no conscious volition of his own, at just the right time. He took this as a message of support from the fates and stood back to watch developments.

Cordelia was at her desk. Fred and Gunn were cleaning weapons and giggling together on one of the couches. The demon was doing something at the reception desk that looked like knitting - but Spike didn't even want to pursue that thought. Connor, like a master strategist, was lurking around looking moody. Spike was impressed; he'd clearly been practicing his `I've just found a dead body' look, for he slouched particularly well and had a hang-dog expression on his face that even Spike would have been hard pressed to match.

On cue, Angel came down the stairs. His hair was a little rumpled, and he tried to straighten it. His shirt was half tucked in, so he pulled it out. He'd been asleep and was still muzzy. Perfect. Spike grinned and leant a little way into Wesley's office, able to see the action but not be noticed too much.

`Father.'

Angel looked up, not particularly perturbed. `What?'

`I have... I have something to tell you.'

Cordelia looked up, but there was no particular cognisance in the look. Spike felt again that frisson of doubt that he'd forgotten something important.

`What, Connor? You can tell me anything, you know that.' Angel already had the look on his face of a parent resigned to being told bad teenage happenings.

`I went to that man, Wesley's, apartment...'

Everyone looked at the boy. Lorne even stopped the thing he was doing with coloured ribbons that Spike didn't want to think about. Gunn put a hand on Fred's arm; Fred stopped the standing movement she had begun.

Angel came right into the lobby with a deep frown on his face. `Why?'

`I needed to see him, to ask him why he did it.' Good one! Spike hadn't seen that coming and was impressed. Not as good as his story, and wouldn't sell so many copies, but probably better in the circumstances.

Angel started to speak, but Connor interrupted. `He's dead.'

It occurred to Spike fairly rapidly after that, what he had forgotten. Fred gasped and flung herself at Connor, asking a rush of unanswerable questions. Cordelia, bizarrely, flung herself on Angel and pounded on his chest ineffectually and ... wow, where had she leant those words, again, impressed! Gunn was hovering uselessly like most men in a crisis, but Lorne. ah, that was interesting, the demon was looking directly at him, and the look was not one of unmanageable grief. Spike squirmed slightly under the gaze, but turned his eyes back to the interesting activities in the lobby.

Thank the powers he had forgotten to let the others in on his plan! Again - another sign! For this was better than he could have hoped for. He was extremely pleased with how all this was going and wanted to hear the bit about the hanging and the straining sheets, the heavy body and the bulgy eyes - he'd not mentioned the stain of a hanged man's last shuddering cum to the boy, thinking this inappropriate for his audience, but began to wonder if it was too late now to bring it into the story.

Fending Cordelia off, Angel managed to ask the appropriate questions of his son. When Connor told of the suicide, all voices stilled in the lobby.

Surprisingly, it was Gunn who broke the shocked silence. `You should have talked to him, man. This is bad.'

Angel gave him a piercing look. From his position in the doorway, Spike could not tell whether this was a look of "you are stating the bleeding obvious" or "I'm the dark brooding avenger and my word is law!" Spike liked turning Angel into Judge Dredd and tried it again, giggling quietly at the effect of total pomposity it achieved. He glanced once more at Lorne and discovered, to his utter annoyance, that the demon was still staring at him. He let one finger rise surreptitiously against his leg and knew that Lorne had seen the sign. He twitched up an eyebrow to the penetrating appraisal and turned back to the weeping and the wailing.

He almost missed Angel's exit, which would have been a pity, as the vampire had to do that dark-avenger exit peeling off one furious female and shaking off the other. He looked up at the stairs, seeking escape, clearly decided that it wasn't safe enough from female wrath, and headed towards his training room and presumably the sewers. If a comment about shit returning where it belonged caught his ears, Angel clearly ignored it, and appeared to give Cordelia the benefit of the doubt that he had misheard some other soft, polite words.

Angel left a vacuum of grief behind him. Connor looked around bewildered at the reaction to his simple tale. He then looked over at Spike with a questioning look, and Spike came out from his hiding place in the doorway.

Lorne came towards him. Spike turned to Connor to congratulate him, but was floored by a surprisingly hard punch in the face from the furious demon.

`Bloody fuck! What was that for?' Spike shied away a little as he stood, but Lorne grabbed him by his lapels and dragged him centre stage.

`Tell them!'

`What? All right, all right. He's not really dead you tossers, bit tired maybe,' he grinned, but quickly got back to his explanation as he saw Lorne's expression. `He's perfectly safe an' holed up in a hotel. Ouch! What! Bleedin' hell woman - I'm chipped, no fair! No! Let me go... bugger off... hey! Two against. bleedin' hell, three. 'gainst one. not fucking cricket and fucking not shitting football either. Oi! No balls! Bad analogy! Shit, mind me nuts! Jesus. demon! Help!'

Lorne took pity on Spike and stood between the three furious humans and the vampire. `Hey! Jolly-green-giant steps back. Now! We can kill gorgeous tail-on-fire after he tells us the score.'

Spike looked at Connor and winked. `Good job, mate.'

Connor smiled nervously at him. He'd only known one human his entire life, and living with Holtz in a hell dimension had hardly prepared him to cope with Cordelia and Fred in a mood.

Cordelia pushed her way past Lorne and slammed Spike into the counter. She was surprisingly strong, and a brief thought of suntan oil flickered into Spike's mind. He opened his mouth to comment on this when she slapped him viciously across his face. `We love, Wesley! You had no right to tell us that.'

Spike pursed his lips, his thoughts running along a continuum from "Fuck off and die, all of you" to "I love Angel, and I'd do anything it takes to help him" and settled on, `Angel will realise he's been all wrong `bout this now. Someone needed to do something.'

He seemed to have picked on the right thing to say for once. This struck a chord with all of them and seemed to mirror what they had been thinking, but had been too close to the drama to act upon.

Surprisingly, Connor helped the situation by saying quietly, `Father is very sad, and I would wish him happier.'

Cordelia turned to him, thoughtfully, clearly thinking about Angel. She looked at Gunn and Fred. `There's not been much happiness here recently, has there?'

Fred came up to Spike, and he flinched a little. She laughed, a light peeling laugh. `Oh, ah don't hit like Cordelia can. I'm too littl', but tell me again. He's safe?'

Spike stared, mesmerised by her soft words, and the love for Wesley evident in her eyes - and if he ever ended up that love-wussy with anyone, someone stake him. Please. He answered with his best "I'm a soddin' vampire and don't give a shit about anyone'" tone in his voice and told her Wesley was as safe as a proverbial. Fred smiled and hugged herself delightedly and turned to the others with joy in her voice. `He's okay; he's not dead.'

Spike took his opportunity. `See! See how much better that makes you feel. Couldn't have felt that without feeling so shitty first, could you? Now that's what Angel's gonna feel, too. So, what hymns should we `ave at the funeral, do you think?'

To Lorne's amazement, the humans got into an excited huddle, planning Wesley's funeral. The girls began to discuss what they would wear; Gunn what size of limo they could afford. He grimaced, grabbed the offending vampire once more by his lapels, and dragged him complaining into Wesley's office and kicked the door shut behind him with his foot. He advanced on Spike, who backed away, looking hurt and innocent. `What? What?'

`You - foolish vampires, both of you. Angelpie, so tight in his own misery he can't see out of it, and you... you... playing with forces you can't even begin to imagine. What do you think Angel is going to do now, bro?'

`Well...'

`What if he's off somewhere, staking himself?'

Spike brow creased.

`Oh yes, so sure of Angel's love for Wesley, weren't you? Well, kudus to you, little blood sucker, cus you were right. Angel does love Wesley; I know that; you know that... but you don't know how much. You've thrown a spark into a powder-keg, and I only hope the explosion blows that little cocksure smile off your face.'

Spike felt a pout coming on and tried to change it into the cocksure smile he'd just been accused of. No good. `You don't really think...'

`I don't know, little one; if I knew that I'd have risked doing something like this myself.'

`Maybe I should go after...' His reply was cut off by laughter from the lobby, and he took the opportunity to escape and stomped out furiously. Gunn and Cordelia had Fred laid out on the floor and were saying sombre prayers for her dearly departed soul. Spike shook his head in disbelief `Jees, remind me never to use any of you in one of me plans again. The kid's worth a hundred of you. What if the poof comes back suddenly? You've gotta keep up the story until Wesley makes his dramatic appearance an' all the kissing's over. Got it!'

They stood, sobering down and trying to suppress the mirth they had not felt for so long.

Spike nodded approvingly, glanced challengingly at Lorne and said determinedly, `So... hymns.'

*****