| Title: On the Streets of Chicago
Author: Inca Feed the hungry feedback demon at [email protected] Rating NC17 - m/m sex Angel/Spike Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, I just like to play with them Spoilers � Pre Series Summary: Angst Authors notes: Okay, takes place after the flapper flashback in �Orpheus� **Angelus is Spike's Sire** and yes i am part of the In Denial Clique Darla never told Spike what had happened to Angelus, and the story is written in his POV, which is why he refers to him as Angelus for the first half of the story� because he thinks that he is still Angelus, get it? For more stories by me, come to http://www.geocities.com/slasherphiles/ , slashing 24/6... 1923, Chicago Spike pulled the dark brown great-coat around him as he exited the alley. It had come from a man who had not wanted to part with it. But Spike liked it and the bloodstains were near invisible on the dark fabric. He started down the street, filling the pockets of the coat with his own valuables - his watch, his wallet. He plucked a cigarette from his case and transferred that to his new coat pocket as well. Chewing tobacco had never appealed to him, but smoking tobacco he liked. Smoking a cigarette gave him something to do with his fingers, with his mouth, plus it had the added attraction of warming his chest and making him breathe. He lit the cigarette with a match, shielding the tiny flame from the wind, as he wandered down the street The sounds of late night Chicago filled his ears, the giggles from the group of flappers across the road, men yelling and laughing, jalopies clattering past, and the group of boy-men whispering the prices of alcohol in the shadows of the side street to his left. He pulled his fedora down against the harsh wind whipping past him as he admired the blues dens and speak-easys lining the street. The neon lights turned his pale skin alternately blue or a flaming red as he passed the respective entrances. Girls fiddled with their ear length hair as the delicious stranger with sea blue eyes neared them, their colour brought out by the brown pin-striped pants and chocolate silk vest he wore. They played with their necklaces as they turned to watch him pass, neatly trimmed fiery red brown hair just visible beneath the fedora. Spike smiled as he felt their gazes hot on his back. He and Drusilla had come to Chicago in search of their bastard of a Sire. Spike had been content in England, but they had heard from a very reliable source that Angelus had been spotted in the New World. Spike was quite satisfied to leave him over there, but as soon as his princess had heard the news she had insisted day and night that they travel there and see. Spike had snorted derisively at Dru�s hopefulness as he packed their bags. They had followed one empty lead after another since Angelus had disappeared. China was the last they had seen of him. That time, he had appeared suddenly. He and Dru had returned home one day to find him sprawled on the living room lounge, feet up on a side table as though nothing had happened, nothing had changed. He had been there a week revelling in the rebellion as they had, before he disappeared once more. They came home to find Darla glaring at a broken window, her hand stroking an empty bassinette. So they had travelled to Romania and Prussia, following a lead in Germany only to end up on another pointless expedition in England, where the rumours of the Scourge�s whereabouts had dried up. Until the bloody stupid Chicago one had rolled off someone�s tongue stirring up Drusilla�s mind with fantasies of finding her beloved Sire. So he had booked the boat, and here they were. He and his princess had enjoyed the famous Chicago nightlife for the first month - asking around for the elder vampire, eating flappers, and tormenting locals. Their love was fresh again, with Dru surprising him with presents of children she had decorated with cuts and incisions; she had made them with love, she had whispered before running her long fingers through his hair and biting his lower lip. With love, as she carefully undid his vest and shirts and drew red lines down his chest with her sharpened fingernails, nipping his fingers and nipples, as the jealous glazed eyes of dead city-folk looked on. Two months later she was bored. You think living forever would give someone a bit of patience. They had not found Angelus, as he had carefully told her they wouldn�t before setting out, and now she was bored. A sharp laugh pulled Spike out of his thoughts. He looked across the street to the drunk men, stumbling along. Something caught his eye, and he looked down an alley wedged between a bar and a closed clothing store. Plain brick walls on either side, and decorated by the usual trash and detritus found in all alleys in Chicago, the alley was uniform apart from the flight of stairs leading to one of the buildings basements. Murmurs could be heard and as Spike walked closer he could see a windowed door. A painted slab of wood overhanging the stairwell identified the place as �The Underground.� He considered leaving, turning around and going home to Drusilla, but his curiosity won his brief inner battle and he headed down the stairs. He opened the door to find himself in a small boxy bar, smoke stagnant and cloudy near the yellowed roof. The floor was scratched and unpolished and the walls needed painting. Leather seated square booths lined the walls and the rectangular bar dominated most of the room, a single bartender cleaning a glass as he gazed at Spike. No one else had noticed his arrival. The bar was surprisingly full, given its dingy atmosphere and location; only a few stools lining the four sides of the bar were empty. Some of the patrons were well dressed and Spike wondered why they were in a stick-to-the-floor place such as this one. As he headed to one of the spare stools, he decided they were slumming, getting a kick out of being in such a dark dangerous place. He sat and the bartender turned to him. "You right, partner?" "Bourbon." The bartender filled a glass, pushed it in front of him, and turned away to serve a blonde woman in a fur-lined coat. Spike toyed with his glass, sipping it, now unsure again, as to whether he was seated in a poor man�s dive or a four star jinny. He surveyed the attendance and he could definitely sense some vampires or things not quite human in the semi-crowd. Two women laughing with a man - one of the Janes was definitely a vamp. He sipped his drink. The more he looked the stranger the happenings he saw were. A hint of scales. A flash of red eyes. Demon hang out maybe? But the majority of the attendance was definitely human. He knocked back the rest of his drink, and flipped some bills on the bar, nodding at the bartender. He decided to leave, couldn�t be bothered figuring out the mystery of this place. He stood up and straightened his coat. And then, across the smoky bar, he saw him. Angelus. Sitting in a booth between two young men in waistcoats and top hats, their jackets slung over the back of the chair. Angelus. His Sire, looking�wary? But still laughing with the men. Spike moved closer. Watching his companions closely, Angelus still hadn�t seen him. Spike sniffed, he smelt the humans his Sire was with, could smell the blood on his breath, the wax in his hair, the polish on his shoes beneath the table. One of the men said something and Angelus laughed dutifully, smiling at the man. Spike shook his head. Angelus had never seemed actually, nice, to his victims. Never. Although, Angelus had never disappeared without a word before either. So� He moved to the side of the table, making himself conspicuous. The man beside him looked up, irritated by his close proximity. Angelus was talking with the man on the other side, unaware of his presence. Spike ignored the irritated man and stared at Angelus, a smile ghosting his lips. It was good to see him again. Even though he was a bastard. "Can I help you?� the dapper goon asked of him, making dapper Goon two and Angelus turn. Angelus locked eyes with him and the smile fell from his face. "No," Spike answered conversationally, "but he can." He said, gesturing at Angelus, who was still looking shocked, mouth slightly open. "Sorry, he�s with us tonight." Goon two remarked, almost snidely, his lip curling up. Angelus stared at Spike for a moment, and then reached in his dark jacket and pulled out a wad of bills. He slid them over to the first goon. First Goon made a face, glaring at Angelus. "So we had to wait for you to finish with the first guy, and now you�re pulling this malarky?" He angrily stuffed the money into his jacket and stood up. He jerked his head at Goon two who was staring at Angelus, not wanting to move, as his friend pulled at his arm. Spike slid down into the seat, as First goon turned around. "You here tomorrow then?" he asked, pulling on his coat. Angelus looked down at the table, before answering. "I�m here nearly every night." "Do we have to book now?" he sneered. Angelus shook his head and the Goons left. "Who were those dicks?" Spike asked. Angelus shook his head. "Do you wanna get out of here? I hate the smoke." Angelus levered himself out of the booth, Spike following. Spike watched as his Sire slouched up the steps. Tired. Looking lost. They reached the alley and Spike got his first view of Angelus out of the dingy gloom of the bar. He looked tired, but was still the handsome man Spike had remembered. His hair had been cut, shortened to the stylish waves that were in vogue today. He looked� different. Without the long hair he looked less predatory, less like he was going to eviscerate someone if the mood took him, he looked less animalistic. Spike had always fancied him some sort of ethereal beast, a lion from Mythos, ready to strike down those who opposed him. But he didn�t seem that way now - must be the hair. He was wearing a dark suit, which when in the light, he could see had thin red pinstripes running through the fabric. The jacket itself was perfectly tailored across his wide shoulders, tapering down to emphasise his leaner waist. A stark white shirt underneath the red and gold Chinese patterned vest he was wearing, set off his chocolate dark eyes and finished the ensemble. Long hair or no, his Sire was magnificent. Spike was quiet until they reached the crisp air of the sidewalk, gathering his thoughts. "Where you been then, Angelus? You don�t visit, you don�t write?" he started. Angelus looked at him. "You want me to? I thought me disappearing would be what you wanted." Spike was quiet. He considered his comment. Yes, that was true. But it was the principal of the thing. "Yeah, but, you left without a word.� he stated, before adding softly, "put Dru in quite a spin." A small, wistful smile curved the elder vampire�s mouth. He looked out at the neon lights, studying the natty elderly gentleman that strolled passed them. "Dru," he started cautiously, his voice crackly, "is she? How? How is she doing?" He looked uncertain, reticent. Not like Angelus. Spike frowned. "Have you been smoking opium? Cause that stuff always gets me a bit, you know, strange." Angelus stared at him, shook his head slightly. "Not tonight." "So," Spike ventured, "what have you been doing?" They headed out into the street, passing flocks of flappers and drunken gentlemen, flouting the prohibition laws. "Nothing." The two vampires walked past a homeless man and Angelus dropped some money in the beaten up hat on the sidewalk. Spike stood staring at this and turned after Angelus again, almost bumping into a woman. "Where you been?" Spike tried again, after he had caught up. "New York, then, um, here." "Why�d you give up your food for me? So we could have this thrilling conversation?" Angelus looked perplexed, his brow crinkling. "What do you mean?" "The two men, at the bar." He prodded. Angelus�s eyes widened in understanding. "Oh, dinner, well, I don�t know.� He turned his head to Spike, "wasn�t really in the mood for it tonight anyhow." Spike nodded, frowning a little in confusion as they stopped in front of a boy selling newspapers. "You paid them to leave though." Angel fished a coin out of his jacket pocket, tossed it to the boy and took the proffered newspaper. "That was their money. Listen, I have to go do some things. It was good, seeing you again." He started walking away. The paperboy watched on with interest. "Hey, wait!" Angelus turned around, the gold threads in his vest glinting in the streetlight. "What?" Spike walked up to him, confused at his behaviour. "Well, I don�t know," he stumbled over the words, hand rubbing the back of his neck. Angelus raised his eyebrows in question. "Don�t you wanna see Dru?" Angelus looked bemused. "Why do you want me to see Dru so much? You hate it when I talk to her." Spike was speechless. He had always thought that, but never knew Angelus knew he thought it. Angelus shifted the newspaper in his arm and leant against the brick wall of a building. "Darla�s been looking all over for you." Angelus raised his eyebrows and smirked. "Somehow, I doubt that." "No, honest," Spike said, dishonestly, sticking his hands in the pockets of his great coat. Angelus looked at the ground and nodded. He looked to Spike and cocked his head. "Darla never told you what happened to me, did she?" he asked, scrutinising the younger vampire. Spike shook his head. "Was she �sposed to?" Angelus shrugged, "no, guess not." A sleazy looking man walked past them, giving Angelus a double take. He stopped, leering at him. "Doing anything tonight, Angel?" Angelus glanced at Spike, and the man shrugged and continued on his way. Spike looked on incredulous. "Angel? Why did you let him call you that? In Romania, some man called you something like that, you would�ve up and killed �im." Angelus grimaced for a split second, shifting his big shoulders uncomfortably. "Yeah, well, we�re out on a street. People would see." He looked distraught. "I have to go. Don�t tell Dru I was� " He trailed off, abruptly turning around, leaving Spike mouth agape. He watched as his Sire stumbled off, shoulders hunched, head down, before finally disappearing into the crowded streets. ***** Spike had been at The Underground for six hours, since sunset. He�d had many bourbons and was starting to feel a little shaky on his bar stool. After Angelus had left the previous night, he had gone home to find Drusilla still out. He had bathed his Sire�s scent off him, and not mentioned a word about the encounter to her when she returned, speaking of black-blooded children and lavender bushes. He needed to know what had happened. Why his Sire was behaving so strangely. The door opened and the Goons from yesterday walked in, looking around. Spike finished his drink and slid off the stool and walked towards them. "Hey." They looked at him in annoyance. "What?" "Do you know where Angelus lives?" "Angelus?" the First Goon shook his head, not understanding. "Angelus. The man you were with yesterday." "Oh, is his real name Angelus? Yeah, we know where he lives, but you had him yesterday," he said angrily, "so you�re not gonna have him today." Spike tried to comprehend this logic. He couldn�t. The men searched the bar again, and Goon Two went to the bar to talk with the bartender. "Listen," Spike threatened, "I want to know where he lives, alright? You�re going to tell me." Goon Two returned looking upset. "Billy says he isn�t here, hasn�t been in all night." He turned to Spike, looking him up and down, "what did you do to him last night?" Spike frowned at the frustration of not knowing what anyone was talking about. "Come on." The Goons headed out. Spike followed them into the alley, causing First Goon to turn and grab him by the jacket. "Look, we ain�t telling you jack, so scram." Spike vamped, biting the man�s nose, breaking it, blood streaming down his face. First Goon let him go, while the other man backed up against the alley wall. Spike reached out lightening quick and grabbed First Goon�s arm, snapping it like a twig, pulling him closer. He reached up with his other hand, clutching his hair and jerking his head to the side, exposing his neck. He drank deep and quickly, dropping the drained man to the alley floor, the gash on his neck burbling out blood as it winked open. He turned to the other man, licking his fangs, and watched him trying to peddle back with his feet, not realising he was up against the rough bricks. He was watching his friend, eyes glued to the deep red wound on his neck, his mouth whispering words. "Help, oh god� help me�" Spike had seen this before - in the man�s head he thought he was screaming out loud, even though he was barely saying the words. Spike knelt down before him. "You know where Angelus lives?" he asked, turning the man�s head towards him. The eyes were glazed with terror as they fixed on his own. He nodded soundlessly. "Right. Where does he live?" "You killed Jon." Spike sighed, reached down and covered one of the man�s clenched fists with his own. He gripped hard, hearing the crack of multiple bones. The man jerked around, still soundlessly, much to Spike�s happiness. "Where? Does? He? Live?" The man told him, cradling his broken hand. Spike made him repeat it to make sure he got it right, before snapping the man�s neck and piling him and his friend in a shadowy corner of the alley, behind some trashcans. **** Spike looked at the building. It was the address Goon Two gave him. Ritzy. It looked more like a hotel with a doorman and a front desk for the tenants. Flowers and plants adorned the lobby. He entered the building and walked to the balding man sitting at the desk. "Can I help you?" he asked, smiling, giving Spike a view of rat-like teeth. "Yeah, can you ring Angelus, and tell him Spike�s here to see him." "Angelus?" the clerk said slowly. "No Angelus, huh?" Spike grit his teeth, he wanted to go back and kill the man again for wasting his time. "Unless you mean Angel?" the clerk asked suspiciously. Spike stared at him. "Angel. Yesterday, did he come home?" The clerk raised his eyebrow but nodded. "Wearing a suit, red and gold vest?" "Yeah, I think so." "Angel. Stays in during the days,� he asked, trying to confirm. "Yes," the clerk sneered, "he has a lot of �night� work." "And his name is Angel?" "Yes sir, his name is Angel." Spike nodded, apparently unable to close his mouth. "Well," he said, "can you call up to him, or whatever you do? Give me his room number?" "I could, but he�s not here right now." Spike sighed in frustration. "Do you know where he is?" "One of his," the clerk paused, "clients came to pick him up." Spike dropped a bill on the desk. The man looked around and swept it off the table into his hand. "I heard them talking, they said they were going to the Blue Room. Jazz place. Know it?" Spike smiled and left the building. ***** Jazz place indeed. The black skinned jazz combo on stage was lit with blue light, as they strummed bases, fingered pianos and saxophones. Cigarette girls tottered around, bending over to flash thigh when someone bought things from their trays. Nice place. Not Spike�s type of place. But a nice place. He surveyed the crowd and couldn�t see Angelus. Fuck. Spike wondered why it felt like he was chasing his Sire all over Chi-fucking-cago. Tired of chasing Angelus, tired of humans, tired of jazz, Spike jumped over the bar top and quickly pulled one of the bartenders unseen into the back room attached to the bar. He threw him against the wall. Game face on. He grabbed the man, threw him to the floor and knelt between his spread legs. "You know Angelus?" he snarled into the bartender�s shocked face. The sickly sweet smell of urine seeped into the air. Spike moved his knee away from the growing wet patch. The bartender gaped like a fish out of water. His eyes were big green pools of horror. Spike shook him from side to side, his head jerking around like one of Dru�s rag dolls. "What about Angel?" The man exhaled in relief at his recognition of the name. Nodding. "He�s� he�s out back�with Rory�please don�t hurt me." He started sobbing, "please, I got a wife and two kids, they need their da�" He was cut off when Spike knocked him unconscious. He jumped back over the bar, startling patrons, and stalked through the crowds, shoving people out of his way, leaving one girl on the floor in his wake. He opened the back door and turned into the alley, instinctively staying in the shadows. He froze. Angelus was bent over a trashcan in the filthy alleyway, black pants around his ankles as one man held his legs apart and pounded into him from behind. Another man stood in front of him, pants unzipped, hands alternatively stroking through Angelus�s hair and holding up his light green shirt as his Sire worked his mouth on the hard cock. The man behind him yelled, short and loud, and shuddered, holding Angelus�s hips tightly as he came, both of their bodies jerking with the movements. The man occupying Angelus�s mouth tightened his hold of the vampire�s hair and started thrusting harder and faster, cracking his hipbones against Angelus�s mouth, causing his stretched lips to split against his teeth. Spike could see his Sire holding onto the sharp hipbones, fingers clenching slightly as his grimacing face was abused by the pounding. The man held Angelus�s face tight to his crotch and gave one final thrust into the his throat, as the other man used Angelus�s blood red shirt to wipe himself off before he pulled up his slacks and buttoned up. Spike watched as the man pulled out a money clip, counted some bills out, as the other came into his Sire�s mouth. The man slowly slid his softening penis out and braced his hands on either side of Angelus�s head, tilting his face upwards, forcing the vampire off the trashcan and on his knees. He coaxed the vampire�s mouth shut, while he wiped blood from the vampire�s split lip and cheek. Angelus sat back on his feet, his pants still around his ankles, belt buckle clinking as it scraped against the ground. The moneyed man slipped some bills into Angelus�s shirt pocket and patted his upturned face, running his hands through Angelus�s hair like he was a startled horse, giggling with his friend. "Swallow" the man who had had Angelus�s mouth said, causing Spike to growl lightly, from his place in the shadows. "Yeah, swallow," the other agreed, laughing, "or you�re not getting the rest of your payment, you get it?" The man holding Angelus�s mouth shut leant down to place a loveless kiss on the vampire�s lips. Angelus grimaced, nostrils flaring as he made swallowing motions. The men released their hold on his head, and one stuck his finger into Angelus�s mouth, trying to open it. "Open!" one commanded. Angelus complied, opening his mouth wide, as the men checked his mouth thoroughly. "Good Boy!" the moneyed man exclaimed, ruffling the vampire�s hair. Angelus scowled, lips curling. "You pay him this time," the man said to his friend as he walked out of the dark alley, "I gave him the money." "Yeah, yeah." Still on his knees and sitting back on his feet, Angelus watched them both warily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The remaining man buttoned up and rolled back one of his shirt cuffs. He held out his exposed wrist, and Angelus�s face flashed with greed, rising up to his knees to reach the proffered wrist. He wound his hands around the wrist, extended his fangs and bit carefully, causing the man to shudder at the sensations. After a few moments, the man pulled his wrist away, Angelus parting with the limb reluctantly. The man reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. "Clean yourself off before you go selling it again, you�re a mess,� he said, tossing the handkerchief to Angelus, still on his knees on the ground, before following his friends exit. Angelus bleakly watched the alley where the man had gone for a few moments, hand still out where he had caught the handkerchief. He shook his head, and spat on the handkerchief, wiping around his face to clear the blood off, then stood up to wipe the come from the backs of his legs. "Spike," he stated, as he dusted the alley grit from his knees. "You knew I was here." "Yes." He moved the handkerchief behind him, pain wracking his features as he held it to his anus. "You enjoy the show?" he asked, through gritted teeth. "I know you didn�t." Angelus took the handkerchief away from his hole, held it up and observed the blood-streaked fabric in the half-light, before gingerly pressing it against his anus once more, a tiny grunt escaping his lips as he applied pressure. "Why are you doing this?" "Don�t want to ruin my slacks." Spike stared at him, noting that throughout the whole exchange the vampire had not met his eyes. Although, Spike thought, if it was him who had been caught on his knees in an alley, he�d be a bit bashful too. And it was believable, that Spike might end up in this predicament; he had, in fact, ended up in an alley a few times in his unlife. But he wasn�t his Sire. Spike stared at the vampire. This vampire� this vampire wasn�t his Sire either. "You�re not Angelus." "No," the vampire acknowledged, bending slowly to grab his pants, pulling them up and buttoning them. "So how come you look like him, smell like him?" Spike asked, "are you possessing his body?" The vampire laughed morosely eyeing the handkerchief again. "I�m Angelus in that way, me boyo,� he said, slipping easily into Angelus�s brogue. "I remember you, and Dru, and everything I ever did." Spike could do nothing but stare at him. "You know how I killed Dru? Did she e�er tell you how her dear daddy did it?" he asked, tonelessly, staring at a newspaper on the alley floor. "She told me a little." "Well I remember all of it, every detail of it, the blood on my hands, my laugh as she cried, the terror in her eyes." His eyes were distant, "and she�s just one." "I remember you, as a human, as a tremblin� fledgling, under me hands, in me bed." Spike gaped, trying to understand what he was saying. "Yeah, I remember that too, Angelus," he managed to spit out. Angelus shook his head. "Not Angelus, not any more,� he said, back in his American accent. Spike frowned, "Angel?" The other vampire nodded slowly, his eyes still as distant as Dru�s were when she sang to the stars. "But you were Angelus, you were him," Spike stated. "I just have a soul now,� he continued, gazing sadly into Spike�s eyes for the first time that night. "Funny how such a tiny, four letter word can make such a big difference in the scheme of things." "A soul?" Spike breathed. He wondered why his head was so dizzy, when it was quite clear to him, that the world had just stopped spinning. "Yes, now I have to go�away." Angel opened the trashcan he had been bent over, dropped in the cum stained, blood painted handkerchief, and limped out of the alley. Spike stood in the alley along time after Angel That�s what he said, his name is Angel now had left. He stood thinking of what a soul would mean to him, if it was still Angelus in there, somewhere, and what souls could mean to vampires in general, as he breathed in the stinking air full of blood and come and sweat. He left the alley through the club and headed for the docks. He booked tickets for himself and Dru, back to England, to leave in two nights. ***** He had stayed with Dru the previous night, ignoring and deflecting her comments that he smelt like their Sire. He hadn�t bathed the stink of the alley off. She had become upset and excluded him from her tea party. She whispered rumours about him to Miss Edith, but Spike was too lost in thought to notice. Dru had been too busy talking to Miss Edith to notice he had left their apartment. And now here he was. Standing in front of Angel�s building. Blankly staring through the glass into the foyer. He shouldn�t be here, he should be packing Dru and Miss Edith and getting them on to the boat early, cause he knew his princess would always see something she wanted on the way. Or someone. He entered the building; the same balding clerk was at the desk. "Hello again, Sir,� he cheerfully intoned. "Hello, could you give Angel a ring, tell him Spike is �ere." The man blinked at his name, but rang anyway. "Third Floor, room 316." He didn�t really know why he had come. He headed up the stairs. Angel had agreed to see him. He counted down the rooms to 316. He knocked. Waited. Knocked again. The door opened to reveal Angel, in a red silk robe, eyes bleary and smelling of smoke. He smiled weakly, his lips puffy and slightly bruised. "Hello, come in." He stepped back from the door and Spike entered. The room was dark, with minimal furnishings. Heavy curtains lined the windows. A set of large couches surrounded a coffee table. Everything smelled musty, smoky, the smell covered Spike�s nostrils. On the low coffee table there was a hookah, and Angel sat down before it. Explains the smoky smell to everything, Spike thought. Angel offered the hookah by gesturing to it, raising his eyebrows. Spike declined with a shake of his head. Angel shrugged as Spike sat down on the couch away from the smoking device, and watched as Angel puffed it. "What are you smokin�?" "Mix of things, mainly opium, some other, more exotic things." Angel closed his eyes and leaned back. "Do you want a drink?" he asked. "You got bourbon?" Angel nodded and slid off his seat, falling to his knees on the floor before stumbling over to a small shelf with bottles on it. He grabbed a new bottle of what looked to be very fine bourbon, and tried to open it. Tried again. Spike stood and took the bottle from him and opened it with a slight flick of his wrist. "Stuff makes you weak, huh?" he asked, gesturing to the hookah. Angel nodded dreamily. "Can I ask why you do this?" "What, smoke?" Angel made his way back to the seat, apparently forgetting he had gotten up to get his guest a drink. "Well yeah, and the rest and I thought you didn�t like smoke," Spike said, searching cupboards for a glass. "I don�t like the smell of tobacco, but this? This is nice." He looked at Spike and giggled. "Alright, but why?" Spike didn�t know how to say it, "why were you in the alley?" Angel played with the hookah, rubbing his fingers over it, turning it from side to side. "This is nice, but expensive." Spike nodded, finding a glass and pouring the bourbon into it. He sat down again. Angel was sprawled on the couch, his robe falling open around his bare chest. A hard brown nipple peeked out of the robe. Spike ignored it. Tried to. "Selling yourself, I mean, it�s a pretty low way to get money, don�t you think?" he said carefully. Angel shrugged, playing with the tie to his robe. Spike ignored it. Tried to. "I�m a murderer. This is what I�" he paused. "Deserve?" Spike offered, quietly. "It must be. Yes, that�s why. I had this same discussion with myself." He moved his legs from side to side, and laid his head on the back of the couch. One hand was up playing with his hair. "You deserve to be on your knees in a filthy alley?" Spike sneered. "I am filth." Spike took that in, watching as Angel started singing softly to himself. He got up and poured himself another drink. "Not to me," he said, then as Angel turned to look at him, "not to Dru." Angel nodded, running his fingers across his chest, pulling at the robe. "Why are you here Spike?" He sipped his drink, "Dru and I are leaving tomorrow." "England?" "Yes." "So why are you here? Not that I don�t like seeing you, I do, but why are you here?" Spike sat on a seat closer to Angel. "Thought you might like to know." "Did you just want to see me again, one more time, before you left?" Angel asked, ignoring Spike�s reason, turning his head to his childe and smiling. "No?" Spike lied. "Liar." Angel hefted himself up to a better sitting position, perched on the edge of his chair, face close to Spike�s. "It�s nice." Spike finished his drink and put it on the table next to the hookah. "What is?" he asked. "You." Spike laughed, "I�m nice?" "Yes, you, coming here, wondering why I do what I do. Trying to tell me I don�t deserve it. Knowing that I matter to you, it�s all nice," Angel rambled. Spike taken aback, could only nod, devastated that Angel knew why he was there all along, knew his motivations before he himself did. Angel got up and left the room, heading through a door and leaving it open. He laid down on the bed Spike could see through the doorway. Spike got up thinking he should leave, now, started heading for the door, but his body somehow ended up turning around and going into the bedroom, sitting on the end of the bed, watching as Angel rolled around slightly, giggling in his drug induced happiness. Then, again, his body took control and ended up on top of Angel, his lips nibbling at his Sire�s, his hands holding down Angel�s wrists with no struggle at all. Angel opened his mouth, and Spike covered it with his own. "Spike, I missed you," Angel murmured when they broke the kiss. Spike closed his eyes at the words, knowing Angelus would have never said them, knowing this rendition of him meant them. Spike let go of Angel�s wrists, and unbuttoned his white shirt, Angel slipping it off his shoulders. He stood on the bed, pulling his boots off, his belt off, his pants off, while Angel watched, lying mesmerised below him. Naked, he kneeled over him, pulling him up into a sitting position, as Angel fumbled with the tie of his robe. Spike put his hands over the older vampire�s, feeling the weakness in them instead of the strength that had always been there, vibrating under the skin. He moved the hands away, undoing the robe and parting it. He looked down Angel�s naked body, taking in the slight muscling, thinner than when he had last seen him, the broad shoulders, and the long hard cock. He slipped the robe off his shoulders, and curved his arm around Angel�s lower back to lift him off the bed, so he could move the robe away. Still cradling him, he began kissing him again, light and soft, across Angel�s bruised mouth, feeling him purr into his lips. He kissed up the side of Angel�s face, licking at his earlobe. "You�re not filth," Spike whispered into his ear, "you�re beautiful." He licked away a tear that had run down Angel�s cheek. He grabbed the back of one of Angel�s thighs, pushed it up against his chest, urging him to hold it there. He leant down and kissed across Angel�s face, high on his cheekbones. He inspected the hole that was exposed to him, seeing it slightly reddened from its brutal treatment; the drugs were hindering Angel�s innate vampire healing abilities as well as sapping his strength. The bruises colouring his mouth were probably from the other night too, Spike thought. Angel�s hardened cock twitched from Spike�s close scrutiny. Spike ran a finger lightly down the shaft, the down, rubbing along the sensitive perineum. He lightly ran a fingernail across Angel�s irritated hole, feeling the vampire hiss and shudder beneath him. He rolled Angel over on top of him, spreading his legs so the muscled thighs were straddling his own as he worked a finger into the tight channel. "Oooh, easy, please�" Angel tensed as the finger entered him, then slowly settled onto Spike�s body as he relaxed, his hard cock nestling beside Spike�s. He slipped the finger out and worked his right thumb into his hole, twisting his hand round, using the other to roam over the chest above him, sliding through startings of sweat, adding experimental pinches to his exploration. He moved his other hand down to curve over Angel�s buttocks. He slipped his left thumb in after he removed his right, and vice versa, feeling him shudder. He slipped out his thumbs, and used two fingers, pushing them in, twisting, pulling out and pushing in again. He heard Angel coo into his ear as he was fingered. He leant down and circled Spike�s mouth with his tongue, asking for entrance. Spike�s lips parted and Angel�s tongue dove for his mouth, sweeping over his teeth, the roof of his mouth. "You love this don�t you?" Spike removed his fingers quickly, Angel shivering at the painful sensations. Spike watched Angel�s face tense as Spike�s digit circled him and dug back in, groaned as the digit swirled around inside him. Flushed with pain and lust, Angel�s face contorted as two of Spike�s fingers dug in hard. "Gunggh," he mewled, his hole now sore from Spike�s probing fingers. Spike guided Angel�s hands down to hold his own cock, urging him to stroke it. He did so, and Spike retracted his fingers all the way before adding a third and slamming them back in. Angel whimpered as his hole was invaded, the force of Spike�s thrusts moving Angel up, causing friction between their cocks. "Unmph, Spike, ugh� please." Spike pulled his fingers from Angel�s hole, the older vampire�s hands dropping to the mattress beside them. Angel rested his head on Spike�s chest. "What is it baby?" Angel�s eyes flicked to a bottle of oil on the bedside table. Spike wordlessly reached for it, unscrewed the top, and drizzled it over Angel�s back and down the crack of his buttocks. He returned the bottle to the table, and smoothed his hands over Angel�s broad back, massaging, rubbing, kneading the muscles, and back down to his hole. He could feel Angel shudder as he played with his anus and ran his oily fingers in and out. "Mmmm." Angel slithered up and down slightly, oil running between them, slicking their skin. He rolled them over again, getting up on his knees. He used slippery hands to massage Angel�s cock and sac lightly, watching as the older vampire squirmed in delight on the expensive sheets. He leant down and Angel vibrated in anticipation, grabbing the backs of his thighs with his hands and pulling them up towards his chest. Spike�s cock throbbed perceptively as he watched his Sire expose himself. He dipped his head and ran a tongue along his balls and down into his oil-shiny hole. Angel squeaked and squirmed as Spike tongue invaded him. "Oooh, Spike, now, please, now!" Spike removed his tongue, aimed his cock and pressed forward through the relaxed ring of muscle. "Ahhhh," Angel groaned as Spike entered him, his eyes closed with the pleasure of it. "You�re hungry for it, aren�t you?" Angel nodded and Spike started rocking, in and out, back and forth, rubbing his cock head over the sensitive bundle of nerves in his passage with every other thrust. Spike grabbed Angel�s butt, lifting him from the mattress and worked his cock in at a faster speed. Angel howled as Spike clawed his cheeks to move his hips in small circles, Spike removing his cock almost all the way before opening Angel up with each thrust. Thrust, thrust, change angle, thrust, thrust. Angel�s legs were flopping around Spike�s hips as he was thrust into, and he moved his hands off the mattress to strip his cock. Spike watched as Angel cupped his sac in one hand, his head thrown back, eyes clenched shut as he rapidly stroked himself. "Ugh, Spike!" Spike let go of one of the legs, dropping it to the mattress and wrapped his hand around Angel�s cock, pumping faster and faster as Angel whimpered at the almost pain of it. "Angel," Spike breathed, and at the sound of his name, Angel came, covering Spike�s hand and his own chest with his spend. He collapsed back onto the mattress, as Spike grabbed the leg once more and drove his cock into the body beneath him, looking up to see Angel smiling contentedly at him. He shuddered as he came, pulling out to come over Angel�s chest, mixing it with his Sire�s. "Spike, my Spike, my beautiful William." Angel murmured, as Spike lay down next to him, exhausted. "Shhh. It�s alright." ***** Spike watched, considering staying with his Sire, as Angel let sleep claim him, moving ever so often, twitching pleasantly in his sleep. He kissed him lightly on the lips, nibbling once more at the slight shadow beneath his bottom lip, and dressed, leaving Angel before he woke up. ~Finis~ |