Reversed Roles: The Line

By Shiver

Pairing: Spike/Angel

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: Not mine. Obviously.

Summary: Spike may have taken his rights as Sire a little too far.

Warnings: M/M SLASH! This story depicts a graphic sexual relationship between two males. If you are under 18, or if this offends you, PLEASE LEAVE!

Spoilers: Part of SHARA NESU’s “Reversed Roles” universe, found here: http://www.shara-nesu.supanet.com/index.html Angel became human, and to save him, Spike had to turn him again, so Spike is now Angel’s Sire. Thanks, Shara Nesu, for letting me use your universe. I’ll have it washed and pressed and returned very shortly.

Notes: Only beta’d by me. Some settling may occur during shipping. I also included Fred in this, even though she hasn’t appeared in the series proper yet, because I *thought* I remembered a reference to her, but rechecking the archives I realized I was mistaken. Sorry, hope her presence isn’t too distracting.

Archive- Please email request.

Feedback- Absolutely.

*******************

Angel's POV~

It's morning, and I should be thinking about getting up, I know, but I'm going to just lie here a few minutes more, pretending to be asleep, because it's so nice just now. I'm lying with my head on Spike's chest and one arm over his waist and he's combing his fingers through my hair very gently. He likes doing that, in those moments he can let himself be unguarded, which is pretty much when we're alone and he thinks I'm asleep. That's why he made rule seventeen-thousand, four hundred and twenty-six in Spike's neverending list of rules: "no hair gel after a shower and before sex." So he could do this.

And I don't really want to get up just yet. Yesterday was a good day. We killed the queen in a hive of Skaarans, then I came home and Spike took care of me, cleaned me and licked my wounds (literally), bundled me into bed and made slow and tender love with me. And that sounded completely poofy, but I don't care. And if I don't move it isn't really a new day yet. Okay, so it's early, and I can't really think clearly enough to work through the logic of that, but it works well enough for now.

"Childe?" Spike asks very softly, like he's trying to wake me but not make it look like he's trying to wake me.

"Angel?" he asks again, and I stretch out against him and purr with happiness. I can feel him smile down at me. This is nice, being so close to him, feeling so protected and loved. He can't stand to hear me say it, but he knows. I slowly let me eyes slit open and look up at him.

"How are you feeling?" he says. "Everything healed up?"

I stretch again. Everything seems okay, and I nod sleepily.

He slaps the back of my head lightly. "That's for pretending to be asleep," he says before pulling me close to him and snuggling against me. He nuzzles against my neck and he finds the scar, his mark on me, and kisses it lightly. I moan and feel a frisson of desire run through my body. I can't help it, it feels so good.

"Yes, childe," Spike murmurs, and he runs his hand down the side of my body. I arch towards him and feel his hardening length against mine. He slips one hand between my ass-cheeks, rubbing a finger against the opening there, even as his other hand tangles in my hair. I hiss with pleasure, turning it into a drawn-out whisper of his name.

"Ssssspiiike..."

"Angel," he answers, and I feel his face change against my throat. I shiver in anticipation.

"Angel!" comes Cordelia's voice up the stairs to our room, and Spike shoves us apart angrily.

"Oh, bloody hell!"

I just manage to pull the blankets over us when she bursts into the room.

"For Christ's sake," Spike shouts at her, "don't you ever bloody knock?"

She ignores him and doesn't even comment about us being in bed naked together, so I know it's serious. "It's Wesley," she says. "The Skaarans have him. They left a message on the answering machine."

"They what..?" I start to climb out of bed, and she quickly turns around while I pull on some clothes. I can tell Spike is about to start complaining, so I quickly add, "let me listen to it," and follow her out the door and down the stairs.

Spike comes down while I'm listening to the message, looking exceptionally pissed-off. The message from the Skaarans goes something like this, only with a lot of hissing and clacking mixed in: "We have the pale-skinned human male. Send the vampire who murdered our queen to get him, or at midnight we will devour him alive. Do not doubt us..." There is a prolonged hiss, and then I hear Wesley yelling in the background, "don't do it, Angel. It's a trap."

"Midnight," the Skaaran repeats, and then I can hear Wesley screaming just before the phone goes dead.

"Cordelia, call Gunn," I say, moving towards the weapons cabinet, but Spike closes the space between us and shoves me up against the counter.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asks in the Sire-voice he uses when he thinks I'm defying him.

"You heard the tape," I say.

"I did," he says. "Even without the watcher's helpful comments I can tell it's a trap."

"I have to rescue Wesley," I say. I can't believe Spike is pulling this crap now. Can't he see this is a matter of life and death?

"No you don't," he says calmly. "I'm not letting you walk in there and be killed by a bunch of overgrown scorpions. You're my childe and I forbid it."

"But they'll kill Wesley," I shout at him.

"Better him than you," he shouts back.

Spike's POV~

They’re all staring at me in shock, but really, this is a surprise to any of them?

“Spike, I have to go,” Angel says.

“No, you don’t.” I think I said that already. Angel looks about to say something else, so I cut him off. “Go upstairs. Now,” I tell him, shoving him towards the stairs. He digs in, and I know he’s about to start fighting me.

“I’m fucking serious, Angel,” I say, grabbing him again and half-throwing him across the lobby. He lands on his back across the bottom three steps, and I know that had to hurt, but I am not playing around. I cross to him and grab a handful of his hair and start pulling him towards our room. He tries to twist out of my hand, but I hold on, then I feel something heavy crash across my shoulders.

I stagger forward and turn around. The little girl, Fred, is standing there with a baseball bat raised up, ready to hit me again.

“Stop hurting him,” she says.

Damn, this girl has more moxie than I thought.

“He has to go with us to get Wesley,” she says.

“Look, I’m sorry about Wesley,” I say, and I am, kind of. I know if he dies Angel will probably cry. “But Angel is my childe, and if he goes into that hive of demons they will kill him. He had the element of surprise last night and they nearly did him in, then. I am not going to allow that to happen.”

They’re all staring at me again, and it’s making me nervous, so I reach down and pull Angel to his feet. “Go on,” I order him.

He doesn’t move.

“I am not explaining myself again,” I say. I’m really angry, now. “If I have to drain you into a coma or break every bone in your body, you are not going to leave this hotel.” He’s still not moving, so I pull him up the stairs after me and into our room. I push him down onto the floor. “Don’t move,” I warn him.

He doesn’t, but he starts begging. “Please, Sire,” he says, “I know you don’t like Wesley…”

“This isn’t about Wesley,” I snap, going to the box where we keep the restraints. “This is about me protecting my childe.”

“I won’t get hurt,” he says. “Please…”

“For God’s sake, Angel, can’t you remember for five seconds that you are the childe, here.” I pull out a set of manacles and turn back to him. His eyes widen and he tenses to run, so I jump on him and chain his wrists quickly. He pulls against them instantly, using all of his strength to fight me. I pull him off-balance with the chains and before he can recover, I’ve pulled him across the room and attached them to a bolt in the wall.

He starts pulling against the chains for all he’s worth, but I know they’ll hold him. I let him go until he knows it, too, and slumps down against the wall. I kneel down beside him and stroke his hair. There are hot tears of frustration in his eyes.

“I’m only doing this for your own good,” I tell him.

Suddenly he turns towards me. He crouches as low as he can and starts kissing the top of my boots. I can’t believe my eyes. He starts begging again.

“Please, Sire,” he says. “Please let me go get Wesley and I’ll never fight you on anything again, I swear. You can use me however you want. I’ll be your perfect obedient fuck-toy. Anything. Just please let me go tonight.”

I stand up. This is the last thing I expected. Angel goes on, begging me to hurt and humiliate him in ways even I hadn’t thought of, and I can’t listen to this. I take a step back, out of his reach, and he looks up at me with those liquid brown eyes full of tears. I take another step towards the door.

“Please, Master, I’ll be your dog.”

This is too much. I turn and leave him there, closing the door behind me. I can hear his anguished screams of “Master” as I walk down the stairs.

Angel’s POV~

I can’t believe this. He left me. Chained me to the wall and left me.

These stupid games he plays, doesn’t he understand this is about more than the Sire and Childe power plays. We need Wesley. Without his skills, I won’t be able to help people. And more importantly, he’s a friend. We rely on each other, and trust each other. If he dies, my relationship with all the humans here will be destroyed. They’ll know they can’t count on me if Spike won’t allow it.

Why can’t he understand that?

I can't believe Spike would betray me like this. This has destroyed everything. I'll never be able to trust him again.

And that thought undoes me totally. From this moment I have nothing. No friends, no mission, and a Sire I will have to leave as soon as I am able. If I can. If we don't kill each other.

I have been a fool. I've let my emotions for my Sire blind me. And now one of my friends will suffer and die for it.

I hear Spike arguing with Cordelia, although I can't make out their words, and then the front door slams and I realize I am totally alone. A howl of anguish rises in my throat. With a heavy heart, I begin to try to escape, hoping against hope that I can get to the Skaarans before Wesley is killed.

Spike's POV~

The prom queen starts yelling at me before I even get to the steps. "You are the most selfish, spiteful, evil creature I've ever met," she says.

"And don't you forget it," I say.

"Wesley is going to die!" The kitten sounds like she's about to burst into tears.

"No, he isn't," I say calmly. "Have you called Gunn yet?"

They both look at me like I've lost my mind.

"What are you waiting for?" I snap. "If we're going to get the Watcher, we've got to get moving." I clap my hands for emphasis. "Move it, girls. We've only got until midnight."

That does get them moving, and we grab weapons and armor from Angel's collection. I can hear him screaming as we leave the hotel, and it rips my unbeating heart into pieces, but I have to protect him. We take Angel's car, and on the way to the Skaaran hive I outline my plan. Those demons want Angel because he's the one who actually killed their Queen. My plan is to get in there and bluff and stall them long enough to get to Wesley. Then we fight our way out.

Gunn and I make a few stops on the way for supplies to implement the plan.

The Skaarans have holed up in an abandoned four-story building, and I figure they've probably gutted the place to build their own hive structure, something like giant wasps. Finding Wesley would be impossible, so I need to get them to bring him to us. I warn the humans to stay behind me and let me do the talking. They seem doubtful, but I am not listening to any arguments. We approach the entrance to the hive together.

I've never seen a Skaarans in real life, although we've all heard of them. There are four standing guard and they are enormous, seven feet tall and about fifteen feet long. They really do look like giant scorpions. I try not to shudder as I address the one that looks like the leader.

"You have one of my humans in there," I say. "We've come to get him back."

The demon leans his face down close to mine, and the little antennae-looking structures around his mouth start waving around. I suppose this is how he smells me, but it's right creepy. I never did like bugs.

"You are not the one who murdered our Queen," he says. "He is the one we want."

"I am his Sire," I say. "I made him and I am responsible for him. Now, I wish to see the human you have before I make any arrangements to bring him here."

This seems to confuse them and they move into a huddle to discuss it.

"I don't like this," Gunn mutters under his breath.

Finally the discussion ends, and one of the bugs says, "follow me." We enter the building and it's pretty much as I expected, tubes and columns made of a pulpy material. I can smell blood, too, lots of it.

I'd have expected a lot of activity here, like an ant-hill, but it is still and quiet. I can see some of the Skaarans watching us from compartments throughout the building, but they seem listless and disinterested.

"Where's the human?" I say, trying to sound fierce without pissing them off. The head bug waves his hand (front leg? antenna?) and one of the others scuttles up the wall into the darkness. I do shudder this time.

"The human doesn't leave until we have the murderer," the head bug says sternly.

"I don't bring my offspring here until I'm convinced the human is safe and you're going to let him go," I reply just as sternly.

He gives me a strange look, like he's trying to figure me out. I glare back at him. A few seconds later the second Skaaran climbs back down carrying Wesley in her arms. He looks like hell, bruised and scraped up, but it doesn’t look like there’s any serious damage.

“Let me talk to him,” I say, and they put Wesley down. He looks very confused. I cross to him and put my hands on his shoulders and pull his forehead against mine. He tries to pull away, but he’s too weak. I pull him forward several steps, praying that the Skaarans are ignorant about human interactions.

“Where’s Angel?” he asks.

“You think I would send a one-year-old fledgling into a hive of Skaarans,” I hiss back. “What kind of Sire do you think I am?” I turn and look over my shoulder and say very calmly, “now.”

Gunn, Cordy, and Fred all reach inside their jackets and pull out the aerosol cans we bought on the way here and ignite the sprays with lighters, turning them into blow-torches. They fire at the Skaarans and the walls and that soft, pulpy stuff goes up like tinder. I wrap my arms around Wesley and drag him out as quickly as I can, which, considering I’m fairly flammable myself, is pretty damn fast. The rest of the kids are right behind us.

We run for about four blocks before I realize there aren’t any Skaarans following us. We’re near a little park, so we all kind of collapse against some trees.

“Are you all right?” Cordy asks Wesley.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he says.

“Why aren’t they chasing us?” Gunn says.

“They’re dying,” Wesley tells him. “Skaarans only live a few weeks, and the hive is constantly repopulated by the Queen. With the Queen gone, they’re all as good as dead, too.” He turns to me. “Where is Angel?” he asks again.

“I chained him up in our room,” I say, lighting a fag. “They’d kill him the minute they saw him, and I had to buy us some time.”

“Why did you come after me?” Wes asks suspiciously.

I take a deep drag before I answer. “Well, I couldn’t have you dying,” I say. “Angel wouldn’t have sucked me off for weeks.” They all make various noises of disgust and I smirk at them. “Speaking of which,” I say, “it’s almost midnight. We have to get back.”

Angel’s POV~

I heard the clock downstairs strike midnight a few minutes ago, so I can only conclude that my friend Wesley is dead. Or dying. Of the two, I suppose I prefer dead. I hope he went quick.

I don't know what I'm going to do when Spike gets back, if I should tell him I'm leaving or just leave. Try to leave, I mean. I haven't felt this frightened and angry since Darla put that spell on him in Sunnydale. I wish I could blame it on a spell this time, but no. This is pure Spike.

I hear the door opening behind me, but I don't move. I know what Spike will see. Me, facing the wall, hanging in the manacles where he left me, my hands and forearms streaked with blood from where I've injured my hands and rubbed my wrists raw trying to escape. There is plaster-dust all over my clothes and hair from the damage I've done to the walls trying to pull the manacles loose. All for nothing.

I expect him to yell, or at least chide me, but his voice, when it comes, startles me in its tenderness. "Angel, childe," is all he says.

Then there is another voice, and if Spike's startled me, this one is a complete shock. "Spike, what have you done?" Wesley says.

I turn around awkwardly from where I am slumped on the floor. Spike and Wesley are both staring at me. Spike comes to me immediately, crouches beside me, and begins to undo the restraints.

"What have you done?" Wesley repeats.

"Don't ask stupid questions," Spike says. "I kept him safe, didn't I? Now come here where he can see you."

Wesley comes over to us and kneels down on one knee. He begins to pluck some of the larger bits of plaster off my clothes. As soon as my hands are free, I take hold of his face and stroke his cheek.

"It's you," I say.

"Course it's him," Spike says.

"I thought they would kill you," I say.

Wesley looks uncomfortable with the attention I am giving him and stands up. He clears his throat. "Yes, well, Spike and the others came to get me out," he says.

And this stuns me speechless.

Spike stands, too, and helps me get to my feet. "Everyone stays here tonight," he announces. "Tell all the rest of them. We stay together until the rest of that hive dies out."

Wesley seems surprised that Spike should suggest this, but he nods. "Yes, that seems the wisest course of action..."

"I need to take care of my childe, now," Spike says pointedly, and Wesley takes the hint and leaves.

Spike brushes some of the plaster out of my hair with a look of utmost concentration. "I was expecting you'd take care of me tonight," he says casually. "Didn't think it'd be the other way around."

"Why didn't you tell me you were going to save Wesley?" I ask, and he stops his fussing over me and sighs. He goes to the bed, pulling me along behind him, then he sits down and pulls me down beside him so he doesn't have to look up.

"What would you have done if I had?"

"I'd..." I stop.

"You'd have insisted on coming along, wouldn't you." It's not really a question, more of a statement of fact.

"Of course I would have," I say.

"And then the Skaarans would have grabbed you and killed you as soon as they saw you," he says. "Then they would have killed me, and all your humans, too."

I start to argue, but he puts his fingers on my lips and I stop.

"You know it's true," he says.

It is, and I nod.

"I had to do it my own way," he says. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you, childe." He looks at my injured wrists and hands, turning them in his own hands, and shakes his head sadly. "You shouldn't have done this," he says softly, almost to himself.

He stands suddenly and puts a hand on my shoulder before I rise, too. I can't quite figure out what he's thinking, but his expression is almost solemn. He takes hold of my shirt and pulls it up over my head and off. He drops it to the floor.

He runs his hands over my shoulders and down over my arms, then takes my hands and pulls me to my feet. He undoes my trousers and pushes them and my boxers down over my hips and lets them drop to the floor. My shoes and socks are long gone, so I step right out of them.

Wordlessly, he leads me to the bathroom and starts the shower. While it warms up, he removes his own clothes and we step under the water together.

Spike's POV~

My beautiful childe, what have you done to yourself?

I make Angel stand under the water, let it wash over both of us. He must have been frantic when I left him, and even now the shock hasn't worn off. He hasn't realized how much damage he's done to his hands. He'll heal, but still, they look horrible, so broken and raw.

I wash him clean of the blood and the dust, glad for once he has all these soft, sweet bath lotions to soothe his muscles and skin. I rub my hands over his body, trying to tell him through my fingers how sorry I am.

I could have lost him over this, and I didn't realize it until it was done.

I wrap my arms around him and meet his lips with my own. I kiss him so tenderly, memorizing the softness of his lips against mine, the firmness of his back under my splayed fingers. I look up into his eyes and murmur “beautiful” against his mouth.

His brow crinkles in confusion. “Sire..?” he asks hesitantly. “Is something wrong?”

I begin to laugh, which only causes him more confusion. “No, it’s all okay now,” I reassure him, kissing him all over his face. “This won’t ever happen again, I promise you.”

“Then you’ll let me go next time?” he says hopefully.

I slap the side of his head gently. “No, you nit,” I tell him. “We’re just never going to let your humans get themselves into a stupid situation like that again.”

He smiles. He probably thinks I’m joking, but I don’t care. “Thank you for saving him, Sire,” he says softly, and I pull him to me again.

I could have lost him. But I didn’t.

Angel’s POV~

Something happened to Spike today. He won’t talk about it, of course, but I can tell. Something frightened him badly. He is being so gentle and loving with me. It’s eerie.

After our shower he patted me dry like I was made of glass, then just held me and stroked my skin and hair for a long time, calling me all his little pet names under his breath.

Now he is draped across my body, and has begun kissing me in earnest, his mouth drawing a wet path down my throat, across my chest. Despite being drained by the emotions of the day, I try to arch into his kisses, reaching for him, but with a few whispered words he entreats me to lie still.

“I’m tired, too, childe,” he tells me. “Let me just take solace in you now.”

I am shaken by his words, and even more, the statement of sadness on his face. Slowly, almost languidly, he prepares me and enters me, drawing my legs up around his waist. We move together easily, with none of our usual frantic, desperate energy.

It feels like we are moving in a dream, and I am reminded of the way the waves break on the beach, each roller following the next.

When Spike comes at last, with a cry full of the heady emotions of need and desire, I follow after almost at once, with a soft groan of my own. He slips out of me and we curl ourselves together, cool skin against cool skin. With the tips of his fingers he strokes my face, and I kiss them as he brushes my lips.

“I love you, childe,” he tells me.

“I love you, too, Sire,” I say, and he lets out a shuddering breath.

Spike’s POV~

I watch him in the dark, sleeping. There are stories about humans coming upon deeply sleeping vampires and mistaking their cold, breathless bodies for mere corpses, but this is not an error a vampire would make. To us, the signs of unlife are unmistakable, if subtle. Little twitches of the muscles, too quick for the human eye. The delicate bloom of color on the skin, the hues too similar for human distinction. The soft, contented purr, just below the range of human hearing.

Today has been strange, an emotional shipwreck, after which even I wanted no part of our usual games. I simply wanted my childe, below me and around me, a simple pleasure and comfort.

Tomorrow it will go back to normal, and we won’t ever talk about this again.

He can go on believing it was always part of my plan to rescue his human. He can pretend I really care about them instead of just tolerating them for his sake. He can play blind to the fact that I would have let the Watcher die without a second thought if I hadn’t realized it would have broken my Angel in ways that would have been too painful for me to bear.

He sighs softly in his sleep, and I smile at him in spite of myself. I really do adore him, all of him, more than I believe, sometimes.

I’ve seen his soul, the essence of what he is, and it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, or hope to see. It was a gift I didn’t expect or deserve, and I would no more wish to see it altered even the slightest bit than I would see the stars go dark. And if that means dragging an insufferable human who really should have know better out of a hive of demons with a death-oath to fulfill, I’ll do it. Gladly, I’ll do it.

I nuzzle against Angel’s neck, and his arm tightens unconsciously around my waist, and I find the oblivion of sleep.