Rating: R
Summary: Angelus and Spike are let loose in 19th Century Paris, but without Darla and Drusilla. How will they work off that post-killing lust?! Slash.
The characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer are the property of Joss Whedon etc. My filthy mind means no offence, and no copyright infringement is intended.
"Paris won't be any fun without Dru."
"Ah, au contraire, Spikey, my boy, I hear Paris is lovely in spring."
The two men strolled along a dark street in Montmartre, dressed - of course - solely in black.
"But you know what might cheer me up some?" Spike said, his eyes drifting to a dingy street corner and a young woman in a torn dress. "A nice whore to quench my thirst."
"Oh, now, now, Spikey! We wouldn't want Dru getting jealous would we?" Angelus smirked and lit a cigarette, watching some men tumble out of a bar.
Pulling Spike into the shadows, Angelus grabbed one man from behind, separating him from his pack. Effortlessly, he pushed the man's head to one side, clamped a hand across his mouth and sank fanged teeth deep into his neck. The metallic taste of blood flowed through his mouth, spilling over his lips as he guzzled thirstily. Eventually, Angelus tipped his head back and gasped.
"Ah, I do love the taste of a good Bohemian. You just can't buy all that freedom and beauty," he murmured, and heard Spike's silent chuckle behind him.
Together, they picked off all but one of the men. The last stumbled cluelessly into the road, looking around, bemused.
"Bonsoir, monsieur," Angelus catcalled, teasingly. The man searched desperately for the faceless voice from the shadows.
"Oh, honestly, Angelus," Spike said, stepping out into the street to feed on the last man. "Must you always play these mind games. Can you not just appreciate a good feed." As if to reiterate his point, Spike fed hungrily on the man, relishing the taste.
Angelus laughed, mockingly. "What can I say? I love a good chase. Plus, I need some way of getting myself off, especially with my girl not around." He stared at Spike, who scowled back.
"Man, you're sick. Even for our kind."
"Going soft, William?" Angelus teased. "You know you just love me for it." And with that, he grabbed Spike's shoulders and pulled him towards himself, flicking a tongue out to catch a drip of blood that was resting at the corner of Spike's mouth.
"What are you doing?!" Spike exclaimed, sauntering back to the side of the street, letting the man he'd been feeding on drop to the floor. "I'm not a bleeding poufter!"
"You are whatever I say you are," Angelus replied. His tone softened, "And don't you feel just a little turned on?" He held Spike against the wall. "In the City of Love, as well." Angelus forced his lips against Spike's, harshly, ferociously, biting on his lower lip.
At first, Spike squirmed, but as Angelus held him tighter, he relaxed, accepting Angelus' harsh lips and forceful tongue. Angelus pulled his head back slightly, the smirk in his eyes spreading to his lips. "I just knew you'd like it rough, Spike," and his eyes flickered to Spike's erection, clearly evident beneath his tight black trousers.
Spike cocked his head and looked questioningly at Angelus, who was still looking rather amused. "What do you want me to do?"
"That's my boy!" Angelus laughed. "Turn around," he instructed, and Spike obliged. Slowly, Angelus trailed a tongue along the back of Spike's neck, and he felt the blonde man shiver at the touch.
"What if someone sees?" Spike hissed, and there was desperation in his voice that Angelus didn't recognise.
"Well, then I'll kill them," Angelus responded, calmly. His hands reached round to the front of Spike's trousers, slowly unzipping them and sliding them, and Spike's pants to the floor, causing Spike to gasp aloud. He stroked Spike's cock briefly, before sucking on two fingers and firmly pushing them inside Spike.
"Oh, God!" Spike exclaimed.
Angelus chuckled. "So, rough, yes?"
"Yes!" Spike screamed as Angelus' fingers rubbed against his prostate.
Angelus' fingers were soon replaced by his cock; the harshness causing Spike to whimper slightly. But as Angelus pumped into him deeper, reaching that nub once again, his whimpers became moans and screams of pleasure. As they climaxed together, Angelus bit desperately into Spike's slender pale shoulder.
Eventually, Angelus pulled out of Spike and collapsed to the floor, taking Spike with him. "My! I needed that," he grinned. "We should do this again some time," he added casually, starting to stand up.
"Really?" Spike asked, somewhere between smiling and frowning.
"No," Angelus laughed coldly. "Now, Spike, I'll be seeing you. I'd recommend you find yourself your own whore before you become too used to being mine." And he swept down the street into the shadows.
Back into the shadows. Angelus was a truly dark creature, and Spike knew it better then than at any other time. And yet Spike never truly saw him in the same way again, for together, encapsulated in the Bohemian spirit of love and beauty, Spike, for the first time, has almost seen the light.