Once a Yoko

Spike entered his crypt with an air of satisfaction he had not felt in months. The bloody chip had taken away most of his leisure time activities, leaving life less than the thrill it had been for the last century or so. Stirring the scoobies until boiling had been the highlight of his day, to say the least. Convincing them that the others were out to get them had been a blooming hoot. Watching the little witches toy with each other’s hair had been a perk as well, that bit had been much more fun than watching Xander squirm in his overactive pants while he ranted about the army and starbucks or something. Spike had been much more interested in his girlfriend, every time he had met her she smelled of sex. It reminded him of Drusilla, although Dru never smelled like the same partner twice, Anya was nothing if not consistent.

He was ready for a drink, the couple of beers he’d had on the way to Adam’s little demon YMCA hadn’t been nearly enough, he needed a good drink. Something decidedly un-Irish. Maybe scotch. He’d be damned glad when this whole affair was over, he’d kill the slayerettes, take their money, raid their fridges and unlive happily ever after. It was quite the plan. It would never work, he wasn’t so daft as to not know that, but it would be fun watching the carnage before Buffy inevitably kicked Adam’s demon-quilted ass.

Spike rummaged through a cupboard, well the only cupboard he had actually, and managed to find a bottle of Glenmorangie. It was emptier than he remembered, but that tends to happen when you never use a glass. Spike grabbed the bottle and swore to himself for not getting a TV yet. He plopped down on the beaten velvet chair and took a swig of the scotch.

"Your heart doesn’t beat, boy." Angel regarded his errant childe with a slightly tilted head and took a step forward. "Spike, where have you been? I’ve come all the way from LA to see you and you weren’t home." Angel laughed as he said the word home, tossing a glance around the dusty crypt.

"Sod off, you came to see the bint, not me you wanker." Spike took a small step back and sat back down in the chair. "Heard you had a bit of slayer double trouble back home, looks like they gave you a bit of a tumble to boot. Lucky you."

Angel touched the cut on his forehead and grabbed the bottle of scotch from Spike’s hand. Angel headed for the small counter and after a moment’s searching found a glass and wiped the insides with a shirt conveniently left on the floor. Angel poured himself a drink and took a small sip, letting the strong liquid roll on his tongue before swallowing it.

"Oh, I get it. You’re here to help the ex. Let me tell you a little secret, Pet. She doesn’t want your help. You should have seen her the last time you were here, you remember, you were playing cowboys and Indians while I was doing my best impression of a porcupine. She didn’t exactly do a dance when donut boy let it slip you were right outside the watcher’s pad and didn’t come in for a nightcap."

"No, no, course not. you’ve come to m’ crypt just to reminisce about old times. Sure, let’s talk about how you took Dru from me, then left her so she could in turn leave me. I come back to Sunnyhell to get a little good old fashioned revenge and who should I meet, your ex, pissed off over a one night stand. So I get my ass kicked, and I think you remember the rest of the story don’t you lover?" Spike was no longer smiling, and neither was Angel.

"Yeah, maybe, but if memory serves, you were too busy taking a stroll on the beach with the charming Miss Summers." Spike took another drink and watched Angel’s chocolate eyes turn golden as he swished it through his mouth like Listerine.

Angel raised his own glass to his lips slowly, calming his demon with a deep draught of the amber liquid. He had come to Spike’s little tomb with a view intent on beating some answers out of him. His interlude with Riley had Angel peaking, just itching to pummel something. Spike was as good a something as the next, and a familiar target. Besides, Angel had not even begun to pay his childe back for driving rebar through his chest, his lapdog’s tricks had left something to be desired too.

"Me no, of course not, Angelus’s first rule of family relations, no territory can feed more than four vampires for long without raising suspicion among the natives." Spike could have recited Angelus’s forty something other rules on family relations as well, but decided better of it.

"You know I seem to remember a time when you would have been glad to have seen the slayer bleed. But then you were the first to make her bleed weren’t you. You always did have a thing for virgins."

"Not me, not now." Angel said, casting his eyes to the ground. He did not need Spike seeing the bloodlust he still felt, he had, did, love virgins. One of his favorites was sitting across from him now.

"Not you, like hell. The scooby gang may buy that whole I’m not Angelus crap, but I don’t. Don’t you even try to play that game with me. I see it in you every time you look at me. I saw it when I had you in chains and I see it now. Part of you was mad as hell, but part of you loved it, Peaches. Part of you was thanking me for reminding you how much you love the pain. I could smell it on you. The warehouse was so filled with the smell of your cock I could hardly keep myself from bending you over then and there." Spike shifted uncomfortably in the chair trying to hide his arousal.

"You know Spike, no matter how old you get, you never seem to get any smarter do you." Angel leapt off the crate and rammed his shoulder into Spike’s chest so hard the chair tipped over onto the hard stone of the crypt’s floor. Spike rolled over the arm of the chair and tried to get the upper hand, but Angel quickly countered, grabbing his hands and pinning them to the floor.

"You never were able to give a straight answer, William." Angel pressed his full weight onto Spike’s chest, drawing a quiet moan from his childe. "I just wanted to know if this demon was going to be something Buffy could handle or if I should stick around and help, and you have to go and be difficult."

"I have a vague recollection of that." Angel bent his head and licked over the blonde’s parted lips. Spike lightly clamped his sire’s tongue with his blunt teeth, pulling it further into his cool mouth. Angel did not resist the kiss that Spike pulled him into. The two vampires pressed their bodies together for a moment, feeling each other’s need growing, but Angel broke the kiss.

"To fight me, and to fuck William." Spike sat up and kissed Angel again. "You see, Pet, unlike you, I am two people. Two people sharing one body, beauty of it is, like Janos, only one of them shows at a time. The scoobies, Dru, all they want is Spike. Spike’s a lot easier to fight, to push down, to treat as your bloody whipping boy. But you, all you’ve ever wanted was William. Admit it. You came to Sunnydale looking for William. Life in LA isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, you have your little helper Barbie and another mick to drink your sodding Guinness with. But you don’t have me. You don’t have me."

"Don’t I?" Angel bunched Spike’s shirt up and pulled him into another kiss, undoing his own shirt at the same time. Spike, not sharing his sire’s patience, ripped the shirt from his own back and tossed it onto one of the assorted clothes piles that already lined the floor. The larger vampire easily pressed Spike onto the ground, this time leaving his hands free to explore his body. Spike ran his small hands across Angel’s chest, toying with the familiar curves of his abdomen. He leaned his head into Angel’s shoulder placing hungry kisses on his collarbone, scraping teeth over the bones and licking at the warm veins that coursed through his otherwise cool skin.

Angel reached a hand down to undo Spike’s tight black jeans, pleased to find that Spike had still not discovered the wonder of undergarments. He looked into the cold blue of his lover’s eyes and briefly forgot why he had come here in the first place. All thoughts of Buffy and demons seemed to slip away in those eyes. They took him back in time a full century, to a time when he knew nothing but the joy of the kill, and the ecstasy of his family. When Sire and Childe were the most important thing in the world. To a time when the relationships among them were so clearly defined. William would have never dared call him a pillock. He would have bent his ass over the bed and begged for more.

"No, you’re thinking of William. I can always tell, I dream of that look every night. It’s the last thing I picture before waking up. A look that is not for me. You try so hard to convince everyone that you are Angel, not Angelus. Yet, you try to keep me a boy that I haven’t been for a hundred years. Angel, just be with me. Why can’t you just be with me?" Spike arched his back sliding his jeans down his hips. He kicked off his boots and pulled the constricting pants off the rest of the way. "Just be with me."

Angel knew he was right. He wanted William. He did not want to fight, he wanted to be in control, and here was his sweet William offering himself. No. It was Spike. Spike wanted him the same as always. A new hairdo, a new attitude, but the same lust ran through his veins.

Spike was losing patience with his sire. He turned onto his side and undid the buckle on Angel’s trousers and started to unbutton them. A quick hand stopped him. He was pressed onto his back once more by those large hands. Angel slid down his body and without a word took his already swollen shaft into his soft lips. He licked around the head and base feeling the veins on the underside pulse. Spike gave an approving moan and placed his fingers into Angel’s thick hair. Encouraged further Angel took in the scent of his lover, of the scotch still warm in his veins and the muskiness that came from living in a damp crypt. Spike also smelled of human blood, frozen as it were, an indulgence he himself rarely took.

Angel was nearly drunk from the aroma, he took Spike’s entire length deep into his throat, he reached a hand under the lean body of his childe and began to knead at his supple cheeks. He then raised his other hand to his mouth, coating a finger in a mixture of Spike’s precum and his saliva. Spike spread his legs wider anticipating his sire’s next move and welcomed the probing hands, reveling in the pressure Angel placed on the soft ring of muscle as he took his cock into that cool mouth in a steady rhythm. Spike once again arched his back, this time forcing Angel’s moistened finger into his passage in one slow motion. He tilted his hips back and forth in time with Angel’s sucking, after only a few motions Angel found the spot within he had been looking for and Spike screamed out.

"Angel, please. Oh, Angel please don’t make me wait." Spike frantically reached out for the zipper he had left half undone and released Angel’s painfully swollen member. He withdrew himself from Angel’s eager mouth. Then Spike rolled onto his stomach and pulled himself up onto all fours, resting his knees on the soft back of the overturned chair. He parted his knees to make room for Angel on the cushion and gently stroked himself, not wanting the edge of pleasure to escape his grasp. He felt Angel’s body push against his back and once again felt his sire’s finger asking for entrance. He gasped for air as he felt a second finger join the first. Angel rocked their bodies together at a heated pace, slowly stretching Spike to take him in. He buried his head in the crook of Spike’s neck taking in the heady aroma of his arousal.

Angel began a harsher pace with his fingers, finding Spike’s prostate with each thrust. Spike’s eyes flashed white with the impending orgasm and bit into his lip as he felt the shudder of the demon go through his lover. Angel brushed sharpened fangs over the neck he had only been brushing his tongue along. The fangs pierced into the back of his shoulder in one deep motion and tore free the flesh. Spike jumped at the sensation of his sire feeding from him. He whispered in short breaths for Angel to take him, take him back.

Angel let the heated blood course through his veins, the power of it was alarming. He had not drank human blood in months and the mixture of human blood mixed with the blood of Aurelius was intoxicating. He withdrew his teeth and pulled his head back. Angel bit deeply into his wrist and let the blood run down his fingers, he then thrust them back into Spike’s waiting channel, coating the walls with thickness. He then pulled them out slowly and coated his erection, which he then pressed to his childe’s entrance. Spike reared back and took him in, slowly at first and then in a rapid movement he took his sire’s full girth into himself, setting a fast pace.

Angel resumed his position at Spike’s neck, taking in more of his childe’s sweet blood. He then offered his torn wrist to Spike. Spike rested his head on the cushion of the chair and held Angel’s arm with one hand, while he slowly pulled on his cock with the other. Spike bit into the wrist again, renewing the flow of his sire’s blood. It was rich and thick, he let the flow fill his mouth and swallowed in gulps as Angel filled him completely. Angel began to cry out as he neared his climax. Spike was used to him shouting his name at this moment, his true name, William, he waited to hear it, but it did not come. Angel pulled his arm from Spike’s wanting mouth and placed both hands on his angular hips. Each thrust now went deeper than the last. Angel wanted to remind Spike who was the master, and who was the childe, the beloved childe.

"Sire!" Spike cried out. Raising to meet each thrust, "Angel, oh yes, please, Sire." He chanted over and over not wanting the motion to ever stop. He pulled harder on his length and rocked back on his heels to take more of Angel’s length into him.

"Spike, gah, Spike!" The name rolled off of Angel’s tongue like a spell, it released a magic door in his childe, who was now screaming in ecstasy. Angel reached his hand under Spike’s body and began to rub at his tight sack, he pulled a blood slickened hand over Spike’s shaft in time with his own deep and steady pace. Spike began to shorten the pace , shallower and faster. Angel obliged in keeping up the sharp pace, and as he felt the shudder go through his child he deepened his thrust once again. Feeling the end of his cock brush against the magical organ inside sending Spike over the edge in a fit of epitaphs worthy a sailor.

"Fuck Sire!" Spike screamed out releasing his dead seed over his lover’s hand and the chair. Angel took the glistening liquid and removed himself partway from Spike’s ass, he applied the fresh lube to his length and pressed back inside. The renewed slickness allowed Angel an even easier passage and he knew he would not last much longer. He lurched his heavy body back over Spike’s small frame and bit into his neck again. He took a long draught of his childe’s sweet elixir and felt his cock glide in and out of the tight ring which clenched in Spike’s little aftershocks of orgasm. At last Spike felt the bite deepen as Angel’s body convulsed and his cock spasmed sending a cool stream into him. He relished the soothing spray and the deep sigh that Angel let out. He lapped at the wound he had made on his childe’s neck and rested his forehead for just a moment before releasing himself from Spike’s grip.

Angel sat back on the cold stone floor and leaned against the wall. His chest heaved up and down, instinctually taking breaths he did not need, but that even after two and a half centuries he always made at this moment. Spike turned around to face him, leaning on the chair.

"Nope, sorry pet, we’ll just have to go over to the watcher’s and use his." Spike couldn’t help but smile at the thought of showing up at Rupert’s house covered in blood and semen with Angel in tow. "C'mon, it’ll be fun."

Angel stood up and grabbed Spike’s torn shirt from the floor and wiped himself off as best he could before getting dressed. He placed a small kiss on Spike’s full lips before heading for the door.