of bubblebaths

"Bloody hell!" Spike slammed his fists down on either side of the laptop's keyboard. The desk shook under the force of his anger. "Bloody. Buggery. Bollocky. HELL!"

"Say what? What would I possibly say..." Angel smiled coyly as he batted his in an outrageously exaggerated manner, "...except I told you, you should have bought a Mac?"

"I fucking lost everything, damn it!" The slighter vampire began agitatedly pacing the room. "EVERYthing! My email, my bookmarks, all my downloads. It's gone and I can't fucking figure out why. But," Spike spun and jabbed a finger at his Sire, "what I don't fucking need is some 'Macolyte' telling me I TOLD YOU SO!"

Spike growled as his tirade received only laughter in response. Sighing, he raked his hands through his hair and threw one last glare at his gleeful Sire before stooping to right the desk.

"It's not like Mac's don't crash, y'know," Spike muttered. "And, so fucking what if they don't have problems with viruses; of course they don't have problems with viruses, *no* one develops *anything* for Mac anyway! And, as for this I-Book crap? If I bloody wanted a 'Speak n' Spell,' I'll buy one at the friggin' toy store, mate."

The petulant mumbling only caused Angel to snort back yet another chuckle as he too bent to help his childe pick up the scattered papers and desk clutter that now littered the floor. Looking up, he watched as Spike absentmindedly patted at the pocket of his T-shirt.

The fumbling abruptly stopped and Spike threw a frustrated glance at his questing hand. Angel smiled sympathetically. There had been a lot of changes in their lives since he had left Sunnydale for Los Angeles and Spike had returned from Brazil -- without Dru. Angel never questioned Spike's decision to return to Sunnydale, and if asked he would never admit how much he enjoyed his childe's visits to LA.

Spike blew into town every other week or so to shake off the dust of Sunnydale, or so he claimed. And, while Angel didn't question Spike, he listened avidly to whatever bits of news his childe brought with him. Knowing that Buffy was doing well -- both in her duties as Slayer and her college classes -- made him so very proud of her. Hearing that she was enjoying a new relationship with a nice, young man named Riley was like having a stake shoved into his heart and twisted. But it was for bittersweet news such as this that he'd left Sunnydale in the first place. His girl was moving on, building a new life for herself, and for that he was glad.

Spike looked so genuinely upset that Angel did not check the impulse to comfort him. Placing a firm hand on the smaller, slighter vampire's shoulder he squeezed gently and smiled. "It's okay, really. There'll be other 'flicks.' We'll go next time."

Angel's grin was re-freshened by Spike's exaggerated cockiness, but he was also assured that Spike could and would provide any back up that Buffy might need. Hadn't he been doing so for the past year?

Spike sat down in the chair before the desk and cast a glum look at the computer. "I'll make it up to you, man. Maybe I can skip Sunnyhell next week and we'll do it then."

"We'll see," Angel nodded. "You play with your toy. I'm actually kind of into the idea of a quiet night at home. There haven't been many of those recently." Angel let his shoulders drop a little as he tried to wiggle away from the ever present tension. His work with Doyle kept him busy from dusk to dawn and only recently did he start allowing himself the occasional night off. No mention would be made by any half-demon or vampire that the nights he allowed himself off had begun to coincide with Spike's visitations.

"I'm going to..." Angel looked around the living room, his glance landing on the brand new, yet to be watched, television; the bookshelves of worn and much loved books; the tidy stack of newspapers and magazines next to the couch, and decided the course of his night "...take a bath."

Angel grinned in triumph as his childe's smirk thinned. Bowing at Spike's one finger salute, he strode down the hallway, wondering what he'd done with the oil of Bergamot bath beads Cordelia had given him for Christmas.

Angel leaned back and closed his eyes. The hot water and scented steam were working miracles on the tension. Muscle painfully grated over muscle as the knots in his shoulder blades begin to loosen under the influence of the heat.

The tub was not large enough to contain him, so in the interest of bringing his neck and shoulders into the water he slid his long legs up the wall until his ankles crossed over the water spigot. In gentle contrast the cooler air caused the hair on his legs to raise slightly and he shivered.

Warm and comfortable, the vampire pushed away all other concerns and allowed himself to concentrate only on the soft crackling of the bubbles breaking around him, the warmth of the water against his skin, the smell of Juniper berries and the sound of the occasional drip from the spigot.

The splash awoke him, and as his eyes flew open his vision was filled with a bright yellow. Quickly focusing, Angel found himself nose to beak with a maniacally grinning, yellow rubber ducky. Sighing, he widened his field of vision to include his maniacally grinning childe.

Angel grimaced at the imagery Spike's words conjured. The apartment building next door had a plastic children's wading pool in the courtyard. On the hot, still, summer days he couldn't sleep, he would listen to the children splash and laugh...

Spike laughed and with a splash reached into the tub gave the rubber duck a quick squeeze causing it to quack shrilly. Scooping up the toy, he brought it, dripping, over Angel's face, and in a high cartoonish voice that obliterated all traces of the pleasant baritone Angel knew his childe to be capable of, he began to sing. "Rubber Ducky, you're the one. You make bath-time lots of fun. Rubber Ducky, I'm awfully fond of you..."

"Rubber Ducky, joy of joys. When I squeeze you, you make noise!" Spike gave the toy duck a squeeze and, indeed, it made noise - it also rained a cold and less than fresh smelling water down upon Angel's face.

"... Every day when I make my way to the tubby, I find a little fella who's cute and yellow and chubby - rub-a-dub-a-dubby!" Spike ended the chorus with a suggestive leer so out of context with the song that Angel had to laugh.

Spike let the song trail off as he caught Angel's grin with his own. There was a short indigent squeak as the quickly forgotten toy landed on the tile floor. Running his hands along Angel's water slick sides, Spike braced himself against the bottom of the tub as he deepened the kiss.

Momentarily startled by the feel of Spike's lips questing against his, Angel froze. But as Spike sucked at the full lower lip, tugging open his Sire's mouth before sliding his tongue between Angel's unresisting lips, the dark vampire awoke to the pleasurable jolts of remembered sensation and lent himself fully to his childe's surprising advances.

Spike felt Angel's lips soften under his, and intensified his gentle invasion of his Sire's mouth. Angel remembered and reciprocated by sucking hungrily at the probing tongue, then drew back with an aching slowness and gently scraped his blunt teeth along the moist, velvet length. Eagerly he returned his mouth to Spike's, and tangling his fingers in the short, bleached strands, he pulled his childe closer and fed on the small gasps of pleasure. With a single kiss, a hundred years fell away and he remembered -- far too well.

"Spike?" Angel broke away, his chest heaving with the exertion it took to do so. "I-- ah. I thought you were going to reinstall your computer... I mean..." Angel closed his eyes against the smoky grey-blue eyes gazing back at him and tried to clear his head.

A seductively lazy smile curled the blonde's lips. Rubbing his head against the hands that still held him, he murmured, "Can't. Don't got the disk." Moving forward quickly he swiped his tongue across Angel's lips and, traitorously, they parted without hesitation. Chuckling, Spike look a lung full of breath and gently blew across the damp, soft surface of his Sire's kiss inflamed lips, delighting in the fevered response. "The disk is at ho-- in Sunnydale. I'll have Red do it. She lives for this sort of thing."

"Shut up!" Spike glared his Sire down, holding his ground even as an unrestrained growl rumbled from Angel. "This isn't about the fucking movie. And, it's not charity-- I don't *do* charity, mate. You as much as anyone should know that." Spike leaned forward again, closing the distance between them and dipped to meet Angel's lips. "It's about me, Angelus, and you. Me. Wanting a little taste of what I had before. Before Drusilla... Before the Rom... Before the Slayer..." Spike punctuated each point by pressing for small tastes of his Sire's mouth until Angel gave him access to all.

Slipping a large hand between them, Angel pressed a thumb to Spike's lips, and pulled back, watching avidly as his childe began to nibble and suck at the callused pad. Shaking his head sadly, he forced Spike to meet his somber gaze. "I can't be that demon for you, Spike. I can't be Angelus."

Spike met the dark eyes unflinchingly a smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Yea, I know, *peaches*." His look sobered as he stared at the vampire who was his Sire, yet... not his Sire. Shrugging away a feeling of disquiet, he pulled on his mask of flippant control "And, I've got to admit it, I'm more than a little," Spike stood and peeled off his T-shirt, "intrigued by what you've learned over the last century or so."

What he'd learned over the last century? Angel resisted the urge to laugh bitterly. Until Sunnydale-- Until Buffy-- Well, he had kept his contact with others as minimal as possible. But now, faced with Spike's desire and beauty? The water suddenly cooled as a rush of superheated desire surged through Angel's system. When he'd last really looked at Spike his childe had been an embittered, broken shell, and he a heartless hell-bound fiend. The intervening years had done nothing but perfect the whipcord lean, pale beauty of Spike's body, and the snug black jeans did nothing to hide his "intrigue." Attempting humor, Angel mimicked Spike's earlier leer and purred, "I don't recall there being anything *little* about you."

Spike cocked an eyebrow at his Sire before tossing the balled up T-shirt to the floor. Lowering his head, he looked through his lashes and cast Angel a haughty look. Languidly running long, elegant fingers across his chest, he flicked his thumbs against the hardened nipples. Aware of Angel's rapt attention, he brought his fingers together over his sternum and slowly traced the line dividing the muscles of his taut abdomen.

As Angel tried to swallow, Spike swirled his fingertips around his navel, before following the fine line of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans. He stopped at the top button and waited -- waited for Angel's burning, unblinking gaze to waiver and swerve up to meet the stormy desire so apparent in his own.

Painfully aroused by Spike's teasing, Angel held a tenuous reign on impatient desire and bit his tongue against the demand that would have had his childe immediately naked and kneeling before him with the intent to serve. No. He could play the laconic lover as well as Spike. After all, the Sire had *taught* his childe this game.

Holding out an imperious hand, he soundlessly brought Spike forward while rising to his knees within the tub. Gently placing large wet hands at Spike's waist, Angel directed his childe to kneel on the edge of the bathtub and began to worshipfully retrace the observed path with his lips and tongue.

Spike trembled as he watched the dark head of his Sire bend, and he was unable to bite back the gasp as Angel's tongue flicked out to lave an orbit around the sensitive areolas before suckling at the small erect nipples and softly rolling the buds between gentle lips.

His facade of ennui stripped away, Spike's hand spasmodically clutched at the broad shoulders below him. Through passion clouded eyes, he watched the play of muscles across Angel's back and shoulders. His Sire's smooth dark skin rippled as he bent further to dart his tongue in and out of Spike's navel. The obvious suggestiveness of the action, the simulation of the thrust, retreat and thrust of sex itself, was nearly Spike's undoing.

Fighting for control, he jerked away from Angel, sucking at the air he needed to clear his head, blinking away the tears that threatened. It had been so long. Too long since he'd felt another's touch. Not since Drusilla, and not since the Slayer had toppled a church down around his head, had he been the recipient of such highly charged physical contact.

It was not easy for him in Sunnydale. Never an island, a product of a crowded social environment, Spike had always needed the company of others. Now, a pariah among his own kind, and not really at ease with the humans he was forced to work with, his forays to Los Angeles - to Angelus - kept him sane.

It angered him no end that he now craved even the most casual contact with other creatures. Oz and Willow's good natured acceptance should have turned his stomach, but he sought them out. He looked forward to quiet evenings with Rupert, exchanging anecdotes of England - a land and culture that had changed little in either man's lifetime - arguing politics, and the finer points of the offside trap.

Eagerly, he volunteered to train with Buffy, getting some twisted thrill out of getting his ass kicked by the Slayer. And when his demon should have surged to the fore to wreak havoc upon Xander Harris -- he found himself delighting in trading quips and practical jokes with all the sincerity of a fraternity pledge.

But he couldn't call his demon against the humans, it was against the rules. Spike hated playing by the rules; good sportsmanship had never been a strong concern of his. And though he still met the questioning looks with a shrug and a grin, he knew that, come stake, or Holy water, he could not divulge the reasons behind his presence in Sunnydale, and why he now fought beside the Slayer. To do so would mean the destruction of all he held dear.

Opening his eyes, he looked into the concerned gaze of the vampire who had made him the demon he was today, but he didn't recognize what he found there. No. This was not Angelus, and that was really just as well. Because, despite what his Sire believed, Spike didn't want Angelus. He wanted...

Absorbing his childe's need, Angel's mind reeled as he registered the significance of the younger vampire calling him by his chosen name. Angelus had been his given name -- given to him at birth by his parents, and given to him in re-birth by his Sire, Darla. Cursed, he had wandered nameless for over a century. Avoiding civilization, he had had no need for a name, no desire to be known. It had been Whistler who had, in an awkward mispronunciation, "re-christened" him Angel.

Spike pushed Angel back and made to climb into the tub, recapturing his Sire's wandering thoughts. Chuckling, Angel tightened his grip on Spike's hips, impeding his forward momentum. "If you get those jeans wet, we'll have a devil of a time peeling them off you." Angel's quiet humor was rewarded with a quick grin. Angel quickly pulled the plug on the tepid bath water and began to pull himself from the tub but now it was Spike who laid a stilling hand. "No, I'm gonna get in." He grinned at Angel's surprised look.

Taking hold of the waistband of his jeans, Spike twisted all five buttons free in one skillful move, releasing a rampant erection. The rapidly lowering water level did nothing to camouflage the responsive leap that Angel's body exhibited in turn. Spike's smile was one of wicked satisfaction. "A tight fit... can be very, very good."

Reaching down through the water, Spike returned the stopper to its place and turned the hot tap on, sending a fresh cascade of warmth across Angel's skin. And, for the second time that night, the large vampire shivered. Spike leaned across the tub, intentionally brushing his chest against Angel's arm as he plucked two more bath-beads from the caddy on the wall and dropped them into the heating eddy. The heady fragrance of Bergamot and Juniper once again filled the room. Turning off the tap, his preparations complete, Spike stepped back and shucked his jeans to the floor before stepping into the tub.

Abruptly sitting upright, Angel gently, but firmly, clasped Spike's hips. Keeping Spike standing, he brought his childe closer and renewed the slow worship that had been interrupted earlier. Nuzzling the hardened column of warmed flesh, so much warmer than that beneath his fingers, Angel's lips parted as his tongue flicked out to lap at the weeping crown. Rolling the pre-cum along his palate, Angel breathed in the scent and taste of his childe-- his lover.

His senses now full of Spike, Angel flattened his tongue and laved the underside of the shaft from base to tip, sucking lightly to draw more of the precious fluid onto his tongue. Then, narrowing his tongue to hard point, he traced a pulsing vein back to the base of Spike's cock, pausing to caress the heavy scrotum with soft lips.

Spike's head fell back and his eyes fluttered shut as he felt Angel's tongue against him. He groaned quietly as his Sire began to suck his balls, rolling first one, then the other into the cool softness of his mouth.

Licking and nibbling his way back up the pale shaft, Angel took the head of Spike's cock onto his tongue. He closed and tightened his lips around the shaft and slowly lowered his mouth down the column. When he'd drawn nearly three inches in, Angel pulled back again, keeping only the tip inside. He repeated the maneuver several times, keeping a firm, still grip on Spike's hips.

Tangling his fingers in thick, dark hair, Spike attempted to anchor himself as he gave into the delicious sensation of Angel's soft mouth and tongue embracing him, and struggled with the urge to slam his hips forward and bury his demanding cock deep in Angel's throat.

Running his hands down Spike's firm, muscular ass, Angel pulled him forward as he took his childe to the fullest extent, engulfing the entire length of blood warmed flesh. He reveled in the control he had over his childe, who shook and cried out above him. Angel responded by forcefully sucking on Spike, while letting his tongue dance along the shaft.

Angel's mouth and tongue suddenly stilled and Spike felt a gently questing finger brush against his anus. Reflexively he tensed, then relaxed as the finger did no more than stroke the puckered tissue. The stroking became a swirling and the swirling a teasing pressure until Spike felt a burning need begin to build. He took a breath and pushed against the finger, inviting a deeper touch. When there was no further movement, Spike opened his eyes in time to see Angel blindly retrieve a bath-bead from the caddy and pop it between his fingers. Although Spike was aware of the impending contact he still jumped as the oil slickened finger returned to again swirl around the sensitive ring, occasionally, barely, dipping into the tight opening.

on the delicate opening, slowly, steadily pushing and retreating until he'd buried the tip of his middle finger within. As he deepened the circling motion of his finger he was rewarded when the erection in his mouth jumped, his childe's hips rocking himself forward into Angel's mouth and back onto the thick finger, burying it completely.

Angel's mouth and tongue picked up the rhythm until Spike knew that he must put an end to the sensations or else lose all control. "Stop," he moaned, voice cracking. Feeling Angel smile around him he pulled on the hair beneath his fingers. "Bastard," he whispered through a small sad smile of his own. Even with a soul, Angelus delighted in torment. He tried again, in a voice thick with desperation. "You've... got... to... STOP!"

Spike pushed Angel away as his knees buckled and he fell forward, leaning his upper body against the wall and allowing Angel to support him at the waist.

Angel withdrew his mouth and tilted his head back in an attempt to see the younger vampire's face. "We've got all night, Spike," he whispered, "tomorrow too. C'mon, man, let go and come for me."

Not trusting himself to speak, Spike could only shake his head in response, pressing his heated face against the cooler tile. Angel sighed, nodded and pressed a small kiss on Spike's hipbone as he carefully withdrew his finger. "Come on," he gestured with a nod of his head toward the bathroom door, "there's really not enough room in here for this."

Spike pushed away from the wall and trailed a pale hand from the top of the dark head down to delicately trace the harsh plains of his Sire's face and finally running a slender finger across Angel's full lips. Watching as Angel sucked the finger in his mouth, he was tempted to feed his cock into his Sire's willing mouth again and thrust until he was beyond caring, beyond control-- mindless. "No. There isn't enough room here, but I like it."

Angel bit down gently before letting Spike's finger slide out of his mouth. "Then you tell me what to do," he smiled. "Because I'm at a loss as to how you think this is going to work."

Surprised, Angel emitted a short bark of laughter before a small sad smile darkened his eyes. With a look of complete sincerity, he nodded. "Yes. You were."

Taken aback by the response, Spike struggled for an answer. Well, this was just crap. Angelus, for all his viciousness, was-- *had been* a coldly analytical manipulator of the first degree. The master planner, the schemer, the Yoda. A murderous fiend who could charm his way into any home and then slaughter all who lived within its walls without the alarm being sounded. Until the Rom, until the curse, Angelus had seemed destined to be one of the most powerful of their kind.

Spike, on the other hand, had always been the loose cannon. His tendency to leap before looking had gotten him into more trouble than he'd care to admit. Although eager to prove himself, he'd been more than a little lost when Angelus had disappeared. But, he and Dru had been good together; his brashness tempered by her insights into the natures of their victims had made them unstoppable. And, Dru's abilities weren't limited to her visions. In her rational moments Drusilla could out-Angelus Angelus. Spike hadn't felt so well partnered until Buffy-- Ah.

Realization dawned and his arms fell to his sides. Angelus had not paid compliment to him, *Angel* had just acknowledged and thanked Spike for helping Buffy to destroy Angelus.

"Is that why you kept me alive that night?" At Angel's questioning look, Spike continued, "When I showed up in Sunnydale that time, drunk as a bloody skunk. You wouldn't let Buffy stake me. Was that because I helped her take you-- take Angelus down?"

"'Helped' being the operative word here?" Angel murmured dryly, cocking an aristocratic brow at his childe. Yes, Spike had betrayed Angelus to Buffy, but then he'd taken Drusilla and run while Buffy had battled Angelus for the fate of the world.

Looking for the right words, Angel ran his hands down the lean legs before him, cupping the calve muscles in large palms. Finally he looked up to his childe's eyes and, with a shrug, gruffly replied, "I guess I just didn't feel like brushing you off my coat that night."

Spike made as if to cuff Angel but ruffled his hair instead. Burying the fingers of both hands into the thick, dark mass, Spike massaged his Sire's scalp, watching as Angel's eyelids lazily lowered.

"No." Spike held Angel's head firmly, keeping the vampire from his goal. Bending at the waist, Spike offered his tongue instead, delighting in the duel that followed. Reaching through the water he took hold of Angel's large shaft and grinned as his Sire sucked in a deep, unnecessary breath. Tightening his grip, he lightly pumped the hard column, mimicking the rhythm that Angel was using on his childe's tongue.

Angel responded with a grin and firm smack to Spike's ass. Spike laughed, pressed a quick kiss on Angel's lips, before straightening and turning within the confining space between Angel's knees. Stooping. he pulled the plug on the cooled bath water and allowed the tub to drain.

Taking advantage of Spike's position, Angel leaned forward and, gently separating the firm, pale globes, flicked this tongue at the rosy orifice that was revealed. Swirling his tongue through the bittersweet taste of the Bergamot oil, Angel teased the tender ring of muscle, holding onto Spike as the younger vampire hissed and attempted to move away.

"Angel-- Ah-- You bastard!" Spike groaned, clutching frantically at the taps as his cock leapt to rock hard attention against his stomach. "Stop!" Spike wrenched away from his now chuckling Sire, straightening and twisting slightly to look down at the grinning man. "You know, mate, if you fed off something live occasionally? You might get over this sucking fixation you got going."

Angel relaxed and let himself fall back against the tub. Gesturing at Spike's obvious desire, he smirked. "You're complaining...? Wait." Angel frowned. "You're feeding in Sunnydale?"

Pulling the shower curtain closed, Spike smirked down at his Sire. "Only on the willing, mate. Only on the willing." The drawn curtain made the space dimmer, smaller, and more intimate. Before Angel could formulate another question, Spike turned the taps and directed the water to the shower, adjusting the shower head until a warm, steady rain fell upon them both.

His bleached hair darkened by the water and plastered to his head, Spike threw a boyish grin over his shoulder as he dropped to his knees. The shower of water catching him across the chest, Angel moved back as far as he could, bringing his knees up to create room for Spike.

Realizing Spike's intentions, Angel frowned. "You're not ready-- Wait!" Awkwardly, Angel scooped Spike into his arms and braced his childe against his thighs. Sighing, Angel reached for another bath-bead. "What the hell is your rush?"

Popping open another bead of oil against Spike's anus, he thoroughly oiled the aperture, scooping up the excess and pushing it into the orifice, past the tightly puckered ring. Spike wiggled back, groaning his appreciation.

Intent as he was on what he was doing, Angel did not see Spike pick up the last bath-bead, nor did he see him break it open and coat his hand with the oil. But when Spike reached down through their legs and took hold of Angel's erection, the combination of surprise and sensation nearly made the preparations moot as Angel bit his tongue to keep himself from spilling in his childe's slick fist.

Spike took advantage of Angel's lapse, and quickly positioning the straining cock against his sphincter, he began to lower himself into place. He flinched as the large head lodged in the tight opening and he pushed back in an attempt to quickly get the crown past the puckered muscle. Angel, gathering himself together, quickly intervened.

Using his large palms as leverage against the cheeks of Spike's ass, he took his childe's weight off of his cock and dipped his thumbs in toward the abused flesh. Massaging the sensitive muscle and the surrounding flesh, he felt Spike respond by relaxing completely to his ministration until, finally, the tip of Angel's cock crept pass the tight ring.

Still supporting Spike's weight in his palms, Angel began to slowly lower and raise the younger vampire. Each time, Angel went a little deeper, never withdrawing completely, until his arms shook with the strain it took to direct the motion.

Lost in a wave of sensation, but aware of what his Sire's control was costing him, Spike slipped his hands down along Angel's flanks until he could grab hold of his Sire as leverage and pull himself down, taking Angel into himself, completely.

A moment stretched into eternity as each marveled at the completeness of their union. Spike was fitted to the curve of Angel's abdomen and thigh -- a perfect fit, a perfect match. It had always had been so. And, with the warm water raining down upon them, the world behind the old shower curtain no longer existed.

Angel felt Spike moan and release the tension that had held him upright. His childe relaxed completely against him, head lolling and exposing his neck in an unconsciously submissive gesture. A gesture that said that Spike was Angel's, completely, unconditionally...

No... Not *completely*. Not *unconditionally*. And, not... *Angel's*. Selfishly, hungrily, Angel needed to hear his name from his childe's lips once again.

Feeling the disquiet in Angel, Spike stirred restlessly against his Sire. Angel's arms slipped up and around Spike, embracing him tightly. "Say my name."

Angel buried his face in Spike's wet hair and blinked against the water that ran down his face. He tugged on Spike's ear with his teeth. "Say it... Please."

Spike shook as Angel's hands and teeth tightened possessively and he responded by tightening his inner muscles down around the hard length within him, until it was Angel who shook.

Angel's large hands slipped down along lean hips and bracing his palms under Spike's thighs, he lifted him until Spike could place his feet along side Angel's hips. A compromise between comfort and leverage accomplished, Angel and Spike began a slow undulating rhythm accompanied by gentle, gasping cries. The position did not allow for a lot of movement, but it was enough for now.

Later, Angel promised, later they would unleash the storm and give in to each other in a fierce symphony of thrusts, but this was a time of reunion, of completion; a sonata of two, again one. Closing a soft fist around Spike's straining cock, Angel began to gently pump in time with the quiet movements within.

Spike's arched away from Angel's broad chest, a bone deep shudder overtaking him. Collapsing back against Angel, he reached up and grabbed his Sire's head, pressing Angel's face against the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Beyond control, Angel did as he was bade and sank his fangs through the pale, soft skin, biting deeply, causing Spike to cry out hoarsely.

Angel felt Spike's cock swell and quiver, before he thrust himself into Angel's hand a final time and violently ejaculated. Spike's orgasm sent his body slamming back into Angel's.

Angel growled against his childe's neck as his cock reared within Spike, then abruptly released his pent up desire. As he came, he ground his pubic bone against the inflamed, sensitive tissue that tightly ringed his cock, causing to Spike to again cry out as another shock-wave of sensation jolted him.

Uncontrollably convulsing, his body inelegantly, animalistically, jerking against Spike, Angel body curled up into as much of a fetal position as the tub would allow. Enfolding Spike's body within his hard contours, Angel pressed his wrist to his childe's mouth and rocked them both as Spike's fangs broke the skin. The cycle of blood sang with their completion and an intoxicatingly powerful surge of energy rushed through them, overcoming them both.

The cooling water brought Angel to consciousness first. Awkwardly lifting Spike, he stumbled gracelessly from the tub, nearly losing his balance as the rubber duck squeaked shrilly underfoot. Ruefully, he nudged the toy out of the way and carried his unconscious burden to the bedroom.

Returning to the bathroom, Angel quickly turned off the shower and gathered an armful of towels. Hurriedly, he dried Spike first, then himself, before placing Spike under the covers and crawling into bed with his childe.

Exhausted but unable to sleep, he went over every moment of the evening in his mind, wavering between wanting to throw up and wanting to roll over onto Spike and fuck until he passed out again.

It had never been like this before-- But, there had never been a before -- not really. He, Angel, had never made love to-- Had sex with-- He had never been with Spike as Angel. Angelus had used Will and Angelus had fucked Will, but Angelus had never shared with Will the way Angel had with Spike tonight. Angel had no idea what had been unleashed, but he was suddenly desperately hopeful... and desperately afraid.

"Stop it." Spike rolled over and onto his Sire's chest and grinned sleepily at him. "Stop thinking, stop brooding, stop fretting, stop... being a great big *poof*." Spike let the latter word drawl through a grin full of teeth.

"No," Spike shook his head, "I don't want to hear it, Angelu-- Angel." He cocked a brow at his Sire, daring him to call him on the slip. He shook his head again, yawned and settled his cheek against his hands, folded on Angel's chest. "Don't make me get the duck, man. I'll do it, you know I will."

Spike tilted his head back up and gave Angel a puzzled look. "You've never heard of 'Sesame Street'?" At Angel's blank look, Spike closed his eyes and sighed. "Where've you been, mate? It's a morning kids show. It's been on for a couple of decades, at least. It used to make Dru laugh." Spike's voice softened in memory. "But then she'd want me to take her where the 'kids were sweet,' and I'd have a devil of a time explaining that it was a pretend place..." Spike sighed again as he felt Angel stiffen under him. Talk of Dru? Or talk of feeding? Both, he concluded, laying his head down again.