*****

When the door to the crypt banged open, Spike didn't even turn his head. He recognized the weight and the speed of the slam; he recognized the rhythm of the heartbeat.

"What took you so long?" he asked, facing straight ahead, hands dangling off the armrests of the recliner he'd salvaged. "I've been expecting you for -"

He didn't get to say how long he'd been waiting before he felt the jolt of a booted foot pounding into the chair, tilting it up violently from the back and spilling him onto the floor. Remaining on his hands and knees as he'd fallen, Spike looked up as Riley came around to face him. As Riley pulled out a stake, Spike knelt up, eyes never wavering from his face.

"It's not plastic this time," Riley said hoarsely.

Spike almost nodded. He'd been expecting all of this, even the quality of voice. The only thing he hadn't been sure of was whether Riley's voice would be roughened by tears or drink; he'd been leaning towards a drinking binge, and was only mildly surprised that the lad seemed entirely sober. He looked at Riley standing over him, legs apart in attack stance, stake drawn back.

"Riley the Slayer," he murmured, his lips curling up into the semblance of a smile as he revealed elongated fangs. He was careful to speak softly, so softly - just loud enough for Riley to hear him.

The words set Riley off, and he reached down suddenly, dragging Spike to his feet by his collar and hurling him against a wall. ~Not much imagination, this one~, Spike thought, noting the familiarity of their positions as Riley closed in against him. He closed his eyes, steeling himself mentally for the boringly self-righteous-mixed-with-'poor me'-and-'oh I'm out of control' speech. So he was caught off-guard entirely when Riley's fist smashed into his chin, forcing his head up and back into the wall. "Hey!" he protested almost involuntarily, but he got his mouth closed again and the rest of his body was still. Familiar, yeah, up against the wall, practically feeling the boy's blood boiling through the warm skin pressed up against his own cold flesh, pounding against him....

"Come on!" Riley commanded, striking him again in the face. "This is it, Spike!" Eyes still closed, Spike thought Riley must have tucked the stake away because the could feel both left and right blows landing about his face and body. "Don't let that chip stop you," Riley taunted, continuing to pulverize him, "it's pain now or nothingness forever - so do it, come on! Fight back, damnit!"

Spike's hands were balled tight in fists, the rest of him becoming pliant even under Riley's beating. ~I'm not going to fight you,~ he thought. But in his head, it came out in Sharon Stone's voice, and he got an image of her standing in the doorway of a saloon in a dusty western town. Oh, too funny! And too nearly perfect - he was the bleached blond revisionist hero of this little play, with Riley as the one seeking redemption for past misdeeds real and imagined. Only Sharon and Russell had been in... well, maybe not love. Lust. Something. Definite sparks. Even in the American cut, which didn't have the quick-screw-against-the-wall-in-the-rain like the bootlegged Australian version he'd gotten his hands on. Though they'd had on more than flimsy cotton t-shirts and the softened denim of well-worn jeans. They'd had on had on long sleeves that covered up all their skin, but it was still hot, watching them go at it with their clothes on.... Yeah, this was too nearly perfect. And really too funny - and he gave in to the laugh.

That was enough to end the fight, more finally than any physical or verbal blow Spike might have attempted or landed. Riley needlessly jammed his forearm across Spike's throat, as if to hold him still. Again he brought out the stake.

"Look at me," he demanded.

Reluctantly, Spike opened his eyes at last and met Riley's. It was eternity condensed into the slightest moment, a moment past which nothing could be the same for one, or both of them. Riley's fingers convulsed around the stake, and then he took an abrupt step back, grabbing Spike and flinging him into a patch of sunlight that was pooling on the floor by the still-open door.

On his hands and knees once more, Spike didn't move a muscle even as he began to smoke. Eternity collapsed around him again, and then expanded as he felt strong hands pulling him back to the safety of the shadows, clapping at the smoke and tiny flames that had sprouted on him; Riley's hands helping him to his feet.

They looked at each other a long moment, much longer than eternity.

"Why did you do that?" Riley asked.

"Why did you?" Spike replied evenly. It was another long moment between them, and then Spike sighed. "I did what I did, because I knew you'd do what you did."

And yet another moment.

Riley seemed suddenly to realize he was still holding Spike, and let go with a backward step. Spike watched him struggle for words. "How did you know?" he finally asked.

Spike shrugged diffidently. "I'd have done the same as you. So I had to figure you'd do the same as me."

Still another moment, and Spike was beginning to think he'd spent half his life just here like this with Riley.

But they couldn't stand there forever. Spike was the first to move, sitting down more heavily than he meant to on his makeshift bed. Unbidden, Riley sat as well, examining the damage he'd done Spike's face before glancing at his own hands and then staring off into the distance. Out from under Riley's gaze, it was Spike's turn to give him a furtive once-over. Suddenly and quietly, he said, "I never did it, you know." Riley looked at him questioningly. "Touched her. Got to her. Any of that..."

"You had her, though," Riley said, not looking at him.

~I never had her~, Spike thought. ~Don't you understand anything, soldier?~

"She was yours to protect," Riley continued. "She protected the world, but who protected her?" His voice was quieter now, not so much bitter as utterly resigned as he studied his own hands. "I wasn't the one. She chose you." He turned his head and gave Spike a searching look. "In the end she did, didn't she?"

~Oh~, Spike thought. ~Maybe you understand everything, then.~

"Fat lot of good it did her," he said aloud, a wave of overwhelming sadness and the residue of defeat washing over him at the memory.

It was a shorter moment this time before Riley said, "It wasn't your fault." Spike shrugged. "I wasn't even here," Riley said, attention returned to his own hands again, and Spike couldn't help but notice the despair creeping at the edges of the boy's voice.

Riley allowed it when Spike patted his shoulder and then laid his arm across him. Spike's hand touched the bare skin of Riley's arm, just where the sleeve of his t-shirt ended. ~Warm, so warm...~

"I'm cold." Riley's words so matched his own thoughts that Spike was startled and withdrew his hand at once, mumbling an apology. But Riley turned to him, shifting his body to face Spike's. "No," he explained. "Cold on the inside. Nothing helps. It started when I got the telegram from Giles."

~Well,~ Spike ruminated as Riley spoke, ~it *did* have Giles's name on it. No way for you to know who sent it. Maybe no need, either.~

"I just went numb. There was this sharp - this sharp twinge at first and then I went completely numb. I read the words over and over, but I didn't cry. I couldn't feel anything at all. And it's not like I didn't believe it. I knew the words were true. But I couldn't feel a goddamn thing. And I didn't like that. I wanted to feel something. *Anything,* you know?" Spike nodded as Riley looked to him, for affirmation, or something. "So I started thinking about her all the time. Not on-and-off all day; all the time, every waking moment. And finally I felt something. I thought it was what I wanted, but when feelings came back - they were -" He gestured one hand helplessly, as if to snatch words from the air.

~Pain?~ Spike suggested internally. ~Pure, unadulterated, uncut pain that grabbed you all over and wouldn't let go? Got under your skin, not just in your heart but in your muscle tissue, your nerves, your bones; pain in the very blood coursing through your veins, reminding you that you exist just because of what she did for the world, for us; reminding you that you're here only because of her?~ Aloud, he offered, "Too much?"

Riley nodded, not so much at the words Spike had uttered but at something he heard beneath them. "So I. I started drinking. I drank like." Again Riley paused, searching for words. Before Spike could jump in this time, he found them himself: "I drank like I thought I could turn my blood to alcohol. Sterilize the pain."

~Exactly.~

"It didn't work. Nothing's worked. Isn't time supposed to heal all wounds? But it grows every day, the pain. It's obliterating me, freezing me out of my own skin. I can't stand it," he confessed plaintively, almost pleading. "I don't know what to do. Nothing I've tried has worked." He turned his face to Spike's again. "But, maybe..." His voice faltered, but his eyes remained locked on Spike's.

Spike felt a tingle of warmth himself. ~Go on, luv~, he willed. ~Ask for it. Demand it. Just say it...~ Aloud he said, "Yes?" as gently and encouragingly as he could manage, trying to convey the single word as both question and answer.

Riley forewent further words and held his arm out to Spike then. Spike looked at it for a moment, the smooth tanned skin over corded muscle marred only by a few faded scars on the web of veins in the crook. He let out an exasperated snort as he slapped the proffered arm away and snapped his attention back to Riley's face. "Not that!"

Riley let his hand fall back in his lap. "What, then?" he asked. Spike looked at him hard, but the boy seemed truly disingenuous.

Spike moved a little closer. "Riley, there are other ways of warming the blood, the body," he said softly, his hand on Riley's shoulder again, fingers sliding along to brush the back of his neck.

Riley shivered at the cool touch but didn't move away, not quite hearing Spike, expecting the fingers to continue on to the faint scars at his throat. But when he felt Spike's palm against his neck, hand curled to cup it while his fingers rubbed lightly, his eyes went wide. "Oh!" he said, shivering again; and again not moving.

So Spike moistened his lips, his tongue darting out to run along his lips as he leaned in. Then, when their faces were nearly touching, his tongue reached across that small distance to flick along Riley's lips, producing another small shiver in the boy and a softer "oh," which Spike swallowed as he pressed his parted lips to Riley's closed ones, cool tongue probing and wetly requesting admittance... and, after an agonizing moment, receiving the invitation of Riley's open mouth. As their tongues intertwined and glided around each other, Spike slipped his free arm around Riley, palm smoothing along his spin through the thin cloth of his shirt as if to soothe the shivers continuing to ripple through the boy. It was those tremors as much as the warm, firm body against him, the delicious warmth of the tongue in his mouth, the hums vibrating from Riley's throat - all of it, almost indescribable. Not too much, not hardly - it was barely enough for Spike. It was just enough for him to shift and adjust himself to the tightness caused by his growing erection; a hardness he felt it wise to conceal for the moment, discretion being the better of valor and all, and so he shifted again. But when he did the second time, Riley pulled back.

"How," Riley stammered as the kiss broke. His confusion was evident, and Spike wasn't sure whether it would lessen Riley's anxiety if he gave him room or moved in closer; he compromised and stayed where he was, one hand still on Riley's neck, the other carefully composed in his lap to hide the evidence of his arousal. "How did you know - that you could do that?" Riley finally managed.

"It's why you came here," Spike replied.

"No." Riley shook his head in denial, but didn't dislodge Spike's hand. "I mean, I don't know. Maybe..."

"Wasn't a question, pet," Spike said with a half-smile.

Riley looked at him, longing and confusion mingling in his eyes. Spike very much wanted to kiss him again, to increase the one and dispel the other. But he waited, not wanting to get it wrong. Riley dropped his eyes again, studying his trembling fingers as if he could make them stop just by looking at them. Spike withdrew his hand then.

"But how -" Riley started again, face downturned, and Spike interrupted gently,

"Did it 'cos you wanted it. Knew you wanted it 'cos I do, too."

Riley fidgeted, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck. When he looked up this time, the balance in his eyes told Spike what to do, and he leaned in obediently to kiss Riley again.

*****
Part 2:

Spike swallowed Riley's cum for the third time that night and moved up to lie beside him. He hesitated and then, rather than brushing a kiss to the boy's lips, merely looked into his eyes. So many, many questions in those eyes - but for the moment, the pain and numbness were gone. And until the sun rose, that was all Riley could care about. So when Spike suggested "sleep now?", Riley merely nodded, stretched, and turned onto his side.

Spike waited until Riley's breathing steadied and dropped down to sleeping pace. Then he rolled onto his other side and looked at the closed door. Sometime in the middle of the second time Riley had fucked him, Spike had become aware of someone in the doorway they had carelessly left open. It had felt so good, though, and he hadn't wanted Riley to stop (or worse, leave) - so he had braced himself on hands and knees, pushing back against Riley's cock and resisting the urge to look over his shoulder at the doorway. After a short while, the door had closed, so softly even Spike might have missed it if he weren't listening so carefully for something from that direction; the door had closed, but the figure remained outside.

So once he was sure the boy beside him was asleep, Spike slipped out of bed and, pausing only to pull on his discarded jeans, went to the door through which he quietly entered the night. The figure sitting under a nearby tree looked up but didn't speak or move otherwise as Spike stepped away from the crypt.

"Wasn't expecting you," Spike said. "Not tonight, anyhow."

"No," Angel replied, his eyes sliding towards the crypt. A small smile played with his lips as he nodded in acknowledgment of the activities he'd witnessed earlier, "I guess you weren't."

Spike smiled briefly in the same acknowledgment as he went over and took his place beside his sire. "Thought you'd be here sooner than this."

Angel said nothing. They sat in silence, looking up at the stars.

Finally, Angel turned to look at the man beside him. "Will...." A single word full of inexpressible thoughts and emotions, a hundred other carefully rehearsed words fleeing in shame and inadequacy.

"Yeah," Spike said, still looking up. His tone conveyed gently not "go on" but "yes, exactly - you're welcome, I'm sorry too, enough said."

As Spike sat beside him, gazing for all the world calmly heavenward, Angel continued to look at him. So much time wasted. So much missed out on. And the chip in Spike's head... what that must have done to him, the things he must have gone through, things he was still going through - things Angel should have been there to help his childe understand....

He should have been there all along. And he hadn't been. For any of them, ever. All he'd done was run and hide. Before Buffy's death, and since it. But not now. Not anymore.

"Will," he said again, and this time the blond vampire turned to him. Their eyes met, then traveled in mutual exploration over each other's faces. Angel was alarmed at the gauntness he saw in the eyes, in the face, a hollowness lurking beneath the surface, not just in the mind but in the body. "How long has it been?" he asked. Shrugging, Spike declined to answer. "How long?" Angel persisted, concern woven into his voice. "You don't look well." Spike didn't reply. The absolution that had been in his tone was not there in his eyes, and Angel couldn't bear it. He opened his arms and uttered the invitation, "Come." There was the slightest hitch of hesitation before Spike accepted, crawling into Angel's arms and lap.

As Angel bared his throat, Spike traced it with one finger. ~This is what you came here for.~ The words came to him for the second time that day, but this time it wasn't necessary to speak them. ~Know you want it, 'cos I do, too.~ He slid Angel's jacket back from his shoulders, and as Angel shrugged it off then lifted his arms, Spike pulled his shirt off overhead. He sat back and, gazing into his sire's eyes, observed, "No worse than you." Without waiting for verbal reply, he bowed his head, unsheathed fangs pressing against the cool, yielding flesh where neck met shoulder. He didn't pierce the skin until he felt the answering fangs against his own skin; and then they entered each other as near to simultaneously as their oddly near-virginal hesitancy would allow.

But once it began, there was no hesitation at all as they established a circulating rhythm, blood electric as it surged through and between them; holding fast to each other they slipped down onto the grass-covered earth as their bodies wound closer together, the bloodflow binding them closer than their mere bodies....

This - ~oh god if there is a god, oh god in the blood, this blood~ - this blood, cold though it was, filled Spike with something akin to warmth. Filled him with his sire, for the first time since he had been turned; for all Angelus had done to and with him, never this, never after the first time; and there had been Drusilla, oh yes, his dear sweet Dru, but not the same, she wasn't his sire; ~ah Angelus, Angel, whatever your name is, whatever your soul is, I know this body, I know you now and again and forever...~

Then, at the edges of delirium, he heard it: Breath. And that heartbeat, quickening.

+++

Riley had awakened to find himself alone. Alone not just in the bed, but in the crypt. He didn't think he'd been asleep for very long and wasn't sure what had awakened him, but he'd come awake suddenly. As he lay there, Riley was seized with doubts having not to do with Spike's absence but rather with his own presence. He scrambled out of bed, dressed hastily, and left the crypt as quickly as he could.

When he opened the door, he heard it - the unmistakable purring growl of a vampire feeding. The way it reverberated, Riley thought there might be more than one. Even as it stirred something in him, something he tried to push down, Riley automatically felt for the stake he'd brought with him... and then he saw them:

Yes, there was more than one. There were two. Spike ... and Angel. Spike *with* Angel. Mouths fastened to each other, bodies stretched out on the grass and intertwined - a finely etched marble statue writhing and gleaming pale in the moonlight. The awful beauty... Too awful. Too beautiful. Too intimate....

Then, still nearly lost, Spike heard it: footsteps receding.

He tore himself away and was up before Angel seemed to know what was happening.

"Riley." The word came out softly, despite his desperation.

Not so softly that it didn't stop Riley. He turned and looked at Spike. For a moment each saw Buffy in the other and for a moment each stood in the other's shoes - Riley was Spike, looking in at something he couldn't touch; Spike was Riley, watching the one he truly wanted drifting away because of an indiscretion, a misunderstanding...

And knowing that Spike now knew what he himself went through, Riley wanted to give him a chance, to hear him out, himself desperate for an excuse to stay.

"You don't have to go."

It wasn't enough, and Riley's spirits sank as he said, "I saw you. There's something there, between you that I can never offer, that I can never compete with-"

"You don't have to, luv." He was on the verge of adding, "Stay with us. Be with us," of telling Riley that he was the one Spike wanted but that Spike couldn't turn Angel away. Of explaining that Angel had lost more and suffered more, that he'd lost both what Riley had lost and what Spike has lost. But then he saw Riley's eyes slide again towards Angel, who was now on his feet, and what Spike saw there made him change tactics; Riley wasn't ready for that kind of compassion and forgiveness yet.

So instead of the words in his heart, he offered, "You want to keep the deadening emptiness at bay? Then fill it with revenge." That got the boy's attention, and Riley switched his gaze back to Spike. "You think you're the only one he's done wrong? Think you're the only one with a grudge against him?" Riley didn't respond, but Spike saw something encouraging flicker in the boy's eyes. "I want you more than anything, Riley," Spike said intently. "If you stay, I'll make Angel do anything you want. Name it, and it's yours." He watched Riley consider it. "You want to see him on his knees?" Spike suggested, turning to look at Angel with Riley, their heads together. "You want him on his knees to you?" And Riley nodded slowly.

Spike knew Angel would do it, knew tonight he would do whatever he was asked; tonight Angel would accept it, because he needed it. Turning to Riley, he proposed, "Inside?" and when Riley nodded, Spike gallantly gestured towards the crypt, following the others inside and mindfully closing the door behind him.

"You want him now, pet?" Spike asked, winding his arm around Riley's waist. At Riley's hesitation, Spike smiled and gazed up at the larger man. "You want more? You want him vulnerable?" Again Riley nodded, and Spike wondered if the boy was at all aware of what lurked behind the fury that he surely thought was motivating him. Turning to Angel, Spike said simply, "Strip." Whatever it sounded like to Riley - and Spike felt the body beside him stiffen with a slight thrill - it was as much request as command between him and Angel.

Already naked from the waist up, Angel obligingly lifted his foot, deftly unlaced the boot and pulled it off. He peeled off his sock and then repeated it with his other foot. He closed his eyes to let the others watch without a hint of recrimination as he undid the buckle and needlessly but sensuously slid his belt out through the loops of his jeans, dropping it with the other removed items before unbuttoning his fly.

As Angel shucked off his trousers and boxers, Spike both felt and heard Riley's not-so-soft intake of breath. Out of the corner of his eye, so as not to distract the boy, Spike watched him watching Angel - not quite innocent, but somehow na�ve in his unawareness; and so beautiful, hazel eyes darkening, flush spreading through him... Spike reached for Riley's fly with a "may I?", undoing it for him, kneeling to undress him for Angel. Still in his shirt, Riley reached behind to brace himself on the edge of the makeshift bed. Spike nodded for Angel to approach, but when Angel took his first step Spike shook his head and held his hand out, palm turned down, and pressed it through the air towards the floor. At once, Angel dropped to his knees and came that way to Riley.

The cock before him was already hard as Angel wrapped his hand around the base. He heard Spike ask Riley if he was ready for him, and when he felt Spike's hand at the back of his head urging him forward, Angel knew the answer must have been yes. Obediently, desirously, he opened his mouth to envelop Riley's head, tongue flicking along the underside as he moved down on it, taking in the shaft to the root in one smooth and gradual movement. He held still for a moment, thrilling to the swallowed flesh throbbing and twitching in his throat, and then as Spike's fingers twisted in his hair, impelling him back and forth, he began to bob up and down on the deliciously hot and hard cock in his mouth.

The sensation, the cool wet pillowing and sucking on his cock, was newly familiar and yet not quite the same - even blindfolded, Riley would have known it was not Spike going down on him. But he wasn't blindfolded and he looked down rapturously at the dark-haired head moving back and forth along his cock, the broad shoulders and back of the body that knelt subserviently before him, pleasuring him - oh yes, pleasuring him with Spike's guidance, Spike's hand forcing that head, that mouth into the rhythm that Riley had so recently shown the blond vampire.

As the ecstasy built, as his breath sped up and shallowed out, as he reached to Spike for support, fingers digging into the cold flesh as his hips thrust forward into Angel's mouth, it wasn't enough. Riley tore his eyes away from that mouth and turned to Spike with the gentle command: "Fuck him."

Spike shivered. Never before had he been allowed this of his sire. But now Riley was asking it. He'd promised Riley he'd do anything, but somehow he hadn't thought Riley would ask *this*... then before he could think of a way out, he felt an answering shiver ripple through Angel. So with a smile, he kissed Riley and moved behind Angel, one hand still tangled in the dark hair as he unzipped himself with the other. He licked his forefinger and started to worm it into Angel's rectum in preparation when he heard Riley say, "No." He looked up and met Riley's clouded eyes. "Now," Riley said, "and hard." Jesus, did the boy know what he was asking? Spike was sure he did - and even though Angel pushed back against him in acquiescence and a trembling need, Spike was also sure that neither of them meant it quite the way they thought they did. So he furtively slipped his hand between Angel's legs as he knelt, gathering moisture from the other vampire's weeping head and massaging it along his head and shaft with his own precum as expediently as he could. Positioning himself, he looked into Riley's eyes as he entered Angel.

Driving into Angel's ass, Spike tried to time himself with Riley's thrusts in Angel's mouth, tried to concentrate on the pleasure he saw on Riley's face rather than that which began to build within him as soon as the ring of muscle in Angel's ass both gave way for and closed around his cock. Impaled from both ends, Angel began truly to squirm and wriggle, his own hips thrusting vainly into the cold, empty air, propelled by unfilled desire as much as by the force of Spike's ramming cock. Without Spike to support him any longer, Riley reached down to the head moving on him, his warm fingers meeting Spike's cool ones as they sought purchase in Angel's hair, urging him ungently to a faster and faster rhythm on Riley's already-sensitized cock... until closely bound as they were, they all felt the characteristic tightening that signaled imminent release - and then with a soft cry and a deeper thrust, Riley was coming and Angel was swallowing and Spike, he himself was on the verge when he heard another of Riley's soft commands, a gasp this time: "Wait."

Even as he flooded Angel's mouth with his cum, Riley looked to Spike. The platinum blond's eyes were closed as he came closer and closer to his own orgasm. But Riley suddenly didn't want Spike to give it away to Angel; he wanted it himself. Though his conscious mind fumbled and couldn't quite make it to this articulation, Riley wanted so badly to strengthen the bond between the two of them that it became a need. So when Spike opened his eyes at Riley's "wait," Riley took a deep breath with his own subsiding climax and offered, "Fuck me."

Spike was so surprised he stopped moving, cock buried in Angel, who continued to tighten around him. Afraid that the physical stimulation would tip him over the edge he was riding precariously, Spike pulled out, resting his cock along the crack of Angel's ass. In the hours that they had been together, Riley had come in Spike's ass and his mouth repeatedly, and had gone so far as to let Spike put a finger inside him and even, with coaxing, to let Spike come in his fist - but that was as far as he'd felt comfortable going. He had been clear about not allowing what he was now suggesting.

So Spike asked, "Are you sure?" hopefully and choosing not to examine motives too carefully. With an addictive smile, Riley nodded. At once Spike left his position and came around to join Riley where he was now kneeling on the bed. Spike kissed him, deeply and open-mouthed, shivering everywhere Riley's warm tongue and hands touched him, his own hands slipping under Riley's shirt to caress the boy's firm torso before tugging the shirt upwards and off.

"How do you want it?" Spike whispered, his lips moving to Riley's ear. In response, Riley got down on his hands and knees, then lowered his head to his arms, offering his ass to Spike as he looked at Angel; neither vampire missed Riley's message to Angel - 'I can be as submissive as you, but not *to* you.'

Reaching for the small bottle of green tea and jasmine oils, Spike looked at Angel, who had not moved since both he and Riley had withdrawn their cocks; he couldn't help but notice that Angel's own cock remained achingly hard and straight at attention. As he began to lubricate his shaft in preparation, he pointed that out to Riley, a request for mercy underscoring the observation he murmured in Riley's ear as he leaned over the boy, the oiled head of his cock pressing against Riley's ass.

"He can jerk himself off as he watches us," Riley said to Spike, eyes on Angel. "Tell him that."

Compassionate eyes turning to Angel, Spike said, "You heard him."

Somewhere between obediently, obligingly and eagerly, Angel rocked back on his heels and curled his hand around the base of his cock. As Spike corkscrewed one oiled finger and then a second up inside Riley, Angel began caressing himself slowly. Spike tried not to show his surprise as Riley began to moan, pushing back against his fingers. Except for his labored breathing and a soft grunt at the end, Riley had been silent with Angel just as he had been the whole time with Spike. While Riley squirmed and moaned continuously, dropping in an occasional "fuck me" as Spike's middle fingertip stroked his prostate, Spike wondered if he had found what *really* did it for the boy - and then with a start, he realized what was going on, and he had to grin because it was the first time a guy had ever faked it with him.

Still stroking his cock at a luxurious pace, Angel raised an inquisitive eyebrow to Spike's grin - ~the boy must have his eyes closed,~ Spike thought of Angel's risky show - but Spike could only give him a slight shake of his head in return as he withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his cock. He pressed the head inside and then, as Riley continued to moan and wriggle and intermittently begged to be fucked, Spike pushed in through the ring of muscle until it wasn't the tip of his finger but the tip of his cock that rubbed Riley's prostate this time, his shaft filling and stretching the boy.

Watching Riley, Angel's face registered the pain that Riley was so desperately but unsuccessfully trying to keep out of his own, the pain that Spike felt almost empathetically in the jaw-clenching warning flashes his chip sent out. Pain that he felt, more importantly, in the rigid body beneath his hands as they rested on Riley's hips, moving to soothe over his buttocks and the small of his back and his spine, as if to melt the hardness from all the wrong places. It was a brief agony for all three of them, Riley physically, Angel remembering, Spike unable to say all the things he normally would have to soothe and reassure... but as he continued the slow strokes, he felt a sudden break in the tension as a sliver of pleasure slipped in with the pain. Riley's moans deepened as he began rocking on his hands and knees. And then with a sharp intake, he went quiet. In the quietude, the boy rocked with purpose and enthusiasm, and with relief at the apparent pleasure he was finally feeling, knowing as the chip released him that Riley was really enjoying it now, Spike began to well and truly fuck him.

The change in Riley's body translated to a palpable change in the room which Angel picked up immediately, letting his fist close over his head on the upstroke now as he began to fuck his own hand in matched rhythm to Spike's cock plunging smoothly in and out of Riley's ass. Spike's fingers dug into the flesh of Riley's hips as he pulled the taut, pliant body against himself, thrusting his cock hard and deep as if he meant to follow it all the way inside the boy, to let that warm, slick tightness envelop him entirely. Fully into it now, Riley began to milk Spike's cock, inner muscles contracting and slackening with purpose until his vampiric lover came with a sustained groan.

When he felt the cold cum gushing into him, Riley opened his eyes for the first time since Spike had entered him and fixed them on Angel, who was frantically fisting himself towards his own climax. Riley drew a deep breath to steady his words as Spike slowed inside him, and with his eyes fixed on the dark-haired vampire gazing up at him, Riley marshaled his military self-discipline to quietly and calmly address the platinum-blond resting at his back: "When he's finished, I want him to lick your cum out of my ass."

Spike felt an odd thrill of pride ripple through him, turning up the corners of his mouth. He followed Riley's gaze to Angel's face for his reaction to the boy's directive, and actions spoke louder than words as, silent and willingly as Riley ever had, Angel came hard and shuddering into his own fist, the viscous liquid spilling over his fingers, sticking to his skin and falling to the floor. With barely a pause to compose himself, Angel was on his feet and approaching the bed, where Riley remained on his hands and knees even after Spike had pulled out and taken up a reclining position. But when Angel made a move to join them on the bed, Riley addressed the elder vampire for the first time.

"No. On the floor, on your knees."

Eyes unwavering from the beautifully flushed human face before him, Angel knelt at once. Riley shifted himself off the bed, bracing himself with legs apart, his own eyes finding Spike's as the blond vampire moved around to a better vantage point. Riley stiffened and relaxed immediately at the first swipe of the cool, wet tongue along his crack, cold fingertips pressing into his flesh for a gentle grip as thumbs spread him open for a second, deeper pass. As Angel lapped up Spike's cum, Riley began to wriggle and sway almost involuntarily, his hips rolling back for Angel's tongue and then forward, as if to brush his rock-hard cock against the stone edge of the bed. Both vampires seemed to realize what the boy needed and reached for him at the same time; Angel's hand got there first, gliding around Riley's hip and wrapping around his shaft, and Spike conceded the hold as he reclined once more.

With Angel tonguing his tight hole and fisting his cock, it wasn't long before yet another orgasm built in Riley's balls and vibrated its way through his cock, sending shivers of pleasure through him as his cum splashed out, mixing with the vampire's own cum still on Angel's fingers.

As soon as Riley came, he pulled himself out of Angel's gentle grip to climb onto the bed and roll onto his side with his back against Spike. Angel knelt still, looking at him. Riley found he could not meet that look - and yet he could not look away. That look made him want to flee, but his body, like his gaze, was transfixed. He saw the unbearable pain inside, not reflected in those eyes but emanating from them, threatening to spill out....

So they looked at each other, Angel holding back his tears and blinking without losing the gaze fixed on Riley, while Riley let his own tears come. Wanting, incomprehensibly to his rational mind, to reach out, Riley finally inclined his head in wordless invitation to Angel. Equally wordless, Angel climbed onto the bed as Riley rolled over to face Spike.

"Okay?" he whispered, and Spike nodded. Lying on his side between them, Riley reached back and drew Angel close, leaving Angel's hand on his hip as he brought Spike's to rest on top if it, sighing as he felt their fingers interlace. They huddled together; shifting closer, the vampires clung to the boy for his body heat just as he drew from their surface coldness to stave off the darker cold within. They cuddled together, lips brushing lips, limbs becoming entangled, bodies seeking a deeper warmth if just for this moment, this succession of moments bleeding into each other and becoming this one night....

THE END