Anything recognizable is the property of the appropriate owners. I do not make any claim to ownership, nor do I make any money from this.
This fic diverges after Buffy ends and between season 4 and 5 of Angel.
Warning: There will be gore and smut along the way. Please don't read if you're not of legal age in your country.
May 5, 2005
Since being reborn as a vampire, Spike embraced the call of his blood, killing, fighting, and fucking whenever the desire took him. Generally he got exactly what he wanted, and that suited him fine. The exception was when Angel was involved. Angelus was always easy to goad into a good brawl followed by a thorough pounding, but his ensouled self was less obliging.
Since getting a taste of how things could be as a trio, Spike wanted more. He remembered how it felt to be held down by the larger vampire and ravaged from top to bottom. Angelus was always more of a fan of pain than pleasure, but the blonde man wanted to see what Angel could do with that same body. Yet every time he managed to get them alone and began pushing buttons, the brunet would close off and refuse to play. Buffy helped relieve some of the tension, but once he got it into his head that he wanted something, he rarely gave up.
The only thing that the elder vampire seemed to respond to, was the slayer's gentle touch. Angel welcomed her embraces and never turned away from her kisses, but he would hardly even look at Spike. If getting a rise out of the brunet wasn't producing results, the thin man would have to adjust his strategy. But he knew that any drastic change would made the taller man suspicious.
The blond man forced himself to be patient, first making an effort not to wear his long jacket in the hotel and to add a little color to his wardrobe. It had worked on Buffy years before, and Angel would be no different. He was also aware that the brunet preferred his bleached curls loose and messy so he didn't fuss over slicking his hair back. When he was rewarded by his sire's gaze for an entire afternoon, Spike smiled.
It only took two days of open body language and and a little bit of seduction for the older vampire to give in. Buffy was out investigating reports that a man's one night stands were all turning up pregnant and Spike was leaning against the lobby counter, waiting for the phone to ring with anything interesting. The others had taken a quiet night off to see a show, leaving Angel in his office.
After an hour, he was wishing he had gone to the show with the others. Boredom and sexual frustration had the vampire so distracted he didn't notice he was no longer alone until a hand settled lightly on his back. Spike jumped in surprise but relaxed when he saw it was only Angel.
Neither man said anything for a long moment but after what felt like forever, the brunet's hand grew heavier. Spike let himself be pulled against his grand-sire, not quite sure what the rules of the game were until they were kissing. It wasn't the battle of dominance the blond was used to, just a soft caressing of lips. The younger vampire wondered if he had ever been kissed like that before and only Buffy's pitying kiss after Grace's torture compared.
The brunet was perfectly content to simply let their bodies rest together while they explored each other's mouths but Spike was much more a man of action. Every moment that Angel's hands remained still on his sides drove the peroxide blond wild. He could feel the taller vampire's arousal pressed against his hip and wanted more. Impatience finally got the better of him, and the younger man bit hard at the tongue caressing his own.
Angel hesitated for a moment but remained gentle with his childe. Denied the treatment he desired, Spike instead tried to maneuver himself between the counter and the taller vampire. When he was kept in place, the blond man felt lost. He didn't know how to give without first taking. The rules were different when they were on even footing and it was unnerving.
Spike pulled back enough to speak, growling with desire. "Just hurry up and take me."
The brunet froze completely. "I'm not him anymore." All the younger vampire could do was stare in confusion at his grand-sire until Angel backed out of arm's reach. "I can't treat you like that."
"Did you hear me complainin'? You can be all romantic with Buffy, but I need a good hard shagging."
"I won't be a monster again." Angel shook his head emphatically.
"Bloody hell, mate. I'm not asking for a beating, just shag me rotten." The brunet just shook his head again and Spike sighed in exasperation. "The past is the past."
"No it's not. How can you even bear to let me touch you after what I've done?"
"Maybe because I kinda liked it? Did that ever cross your mind?" Spike crossed his arms and stared levelly at the older man. "Did you ever notice that I only really pissed you off to get what I wanted?"
"You can't mean that. I was evil."
"So was I, but you can't change the past."
"Is that how you don't let what you did destroy you?" The brunet hoped for some insight to lessen his own suffering.
"Well yeah. Soul or not, I can't change anything I did and I can't make up for every crime by saving innocents so I don't even bother."
They had had this conversation before and it was always the same song and dance. Angel spent every moment trying to wash the blood from his hands little by little by rescuing people. However, his grand-childe was relatively unchanged by regaining his soul and didn't fight his past.
"But you still help us."
"Why wouldn't I? It's the right thing to do."
"I can't just let go of it like that." The older vampire knew that even though the curse was broken and he couldn't lose his soul, he would forever be tormented by his sins.
"That's fine, just let Buffy and I help where we can."
"You don't need me messing everything up."
"Right, cause I never mess things up on my own." Sarcasm came easily to the blond and sometimes he wished for a bit of Angelus' arrogance to counter Angel's abysmal self esteem.
"Not with Buffy."
"You mean you don't know?" Spike had figured that Giles had gleefully told the brunet about his indiscretion.
"Know what?"
"Why I got myself a bleedin' soul." Angel just shook his head. "I hurt her - or I tried to. Scared her pretty bad. Scared myself too." Even though years had passed, Spike hated thinking about that night.
"But she forgave you." The statement was simple and non-judgemental.
"Doesn't mean I forgave myself."
"But you love her."
"Right to the soddin' end, and so do you." If Angel wanted to point out truths, Spike could too.
"But you don't need me."
"Of course we need you. I can't replace you, never even tried. I thought we talked about this weeks ago." The younger vampire threw up his hands in exasperation.
"I won't have her stuck between us like Dru was."
"She wouldn't be. We were meant to be, you me and Buffy." It had been a while since the blond had wanted to shake his sire in frustration. "Even Dru knew it. She knew before I did, broke up with me so I'd go crawling back to Sunnyhell and end up with the slayer."
"She did used to say I'd only be happy with blondes." Angel agreed, a faraway look as he remembered his former family.
"Maybe she wasn't as crazy as she sounded."
"No, I broke her even before I sired her. Wanted to see if it would destroy her visions or make them stronger." Angel was disgusted at his rampant cruelty, preferring not to think of the heinous crimes he committed.
"What did you say?" Something in the older vampire's words caught his attention.
"She really was insane."
Fear and recognition began to prickle at the back of Spike's mind and he dreaded the answer. "No, about the visions."
"Dru was a seer before I turned her."
"Oh bollocks."
"What happened here?" Wesley stood in the doorway, mouth agape at the piles of his books spread out across every horizontal surface.
Spike looked at the mess surrounding him and tried to look guilty. "Sorry abou' the mess, Angel'll clean it up."
"Did you have to pull out every book we own?"
"I needed to look something up."
"Every book?"
"Well I didn't know which one I needed."
The former watcher quickly snatched the tome away from the vampire. "I hardly suspected you could read."
"Har-de-bloody-ha. Give that back."
"What are you even looking for?"
"Anything on someone called the Broken Seer and the Order of Aurelius."
"Is there something we should know?" Wesley asked seriously. Anything that could get Spike to open a book had to be bad news.
"Don't know yet. There could be a prophecy, but no idea what it could be." The blond vampire gave up on the books and left the lobby.
As soon as he realized that Drusilla was the implied broken seer, Angel locked himself in his office to think. Kin of blood but not blood kin made more sense to the vampire. It was only logical that the two men it referred to was Spike and himself. The brunet prepared to relive the time he spent with Drusilla. 150 years of killing and blood were better locked away, but it was the only way to learn about a prophecy that had never been recorded.
Cities were the landmarks of their slaughters. They drifted where they pleased, feeding on any that strayed across their path. Darla went straight for the richest and finest places, talking her way into the parties, mingling until she tired of the game. Spike followed his sire faithfully, indulging Dru's every childish whim, still full of romantic notions of their forever love.
Angelus enjoyed taunting the young vampire by taking Drusilla when he pleased, making Spike watch or occasionally letting him join in. His grand-childe looked up to him for guidance and praise and how to treat the woman they both would claim.
A man on each arm, Drusilla prowled the streets, looking for anything that caught her fancy. Spike and Angelus never knew what would delight their pet on any given night so they followed willingly. From down a side street there came the thin wail of a child for its mother but the delicate woman ignored the plaintive cries. The brunette slipped free of the men and danced up to a shop window displaying dozens of dolls of different sizes.
"Oh look at the pretty little girls. I want to play with them."
"They're just dolls, Dru." Spike looked disinterestedly over her shoulder.
Angelus kicked in the wooden door of the shop and held out his hand to his childe. "If you want to play, be our guest."
Drusilla giggled brokenly and clapped her hands in delight. "Come Spike, the girls have been naughty."
The flighty woman skipped over the threshold and made a vague humming noise as she took in the many dolls lining the walls, all dressed in silk and velvet. Angelus watched her dance, brushing her fingertips over shiny shoes and finely curled hair. Drusilla picked up one of the porcelain girls before frowning and putting it back. Spike sighed in boredom and crossed his arms.
"Let's find some real girls to play with, love." None of the words seemed to register. "Aren't you peckish?"
Suddenly, the brunette woman picked up a doll with long blonde hair like sunshine and gazed sadly at it. "She'll steal you both."
Spike turned away and gave an exasperated huff. "Daft bint."
Angelus just smiled indulgently. "Do you like that one?"
Drusilla looked sharply at the older man. "No. She's a bad girl. Takes what's mine." The yellow haired doll was dropped to the floor but it didn't crack. "She'll be the end of every one of us."
Spike slipped an arm around his sire's waist and nuzzled into her neck. "How about we play a little game?"
The bird boned brunette spun away and started frantically digging through the shelves, carelessly knocking dolls aside. "I have to find it!"
Unfortunately, the younger vampire didn't back away quick enough and he was knocked to the floor. Angelus gave him a hand up and smirked. "Something tells me she'll be busy for a while."
Spike blinked twice before he realized what his grand-sire was alluding to. "That desperate for a shag, gramps? Girls aren't doing it for you any more?"
"Don't be crude, William."
"It's Spike now."
"Let's see if you still remember your name by the time I'm done." Angelus promised darkly, smashing his mouth against the fledgling's.
It was a dangerous game, playing with the brunet vampire. Europe feared him for a reason but Spike dared. He fought back and pushed the older man away just enough for Angelus to hold him down a little harder. Anyone that would tup the former poet had to work for it. The master vampire pressed his grand-childe's cold body into the workbench and untied his trousers.
Drusilla continued muttering to herself among the dolls while the two men found pleasure in their flesh. When they finished, Angelus licked a smear of blood from Spike's shoulder and grinned. "Don't worry, I left some for Dru."
The woman in question stood deathly still just to their side, head cocked to the side. "All the doors will be closed."
Spike pulled his trousers up and glanced uncertainly at the older man. When Angelus didn't acknowledge the strange comment, they pretended nothing had happened. The door suddenly sliding open brought Angel back to the present, still with the taste of the former poet's blood on his tongue. Before Wesley could ask for an explanation, the vampire had brushed past him and went looking for Spike.
The door to the younger vampire's room wasn't closed when he knocked and Angel paused in the doorway. When Spike wasn't immediately visible, the investigator took a hesitant step into the room. No matter the decade, the blond's habits didn't change. Liquor bottles littered the counter by the sink and a television buzzed in the corner. The only thing in the room with any taste was the blood red silk sheets on the bed and for a moment, he wondered what the younger man would look like spread out on it.
"Spike? I think I remember something."
The blond stepped out of the bathroom, drying off from a shower but didn't bother wrapping the towel around his slim waist. "What is it?"
"Brussels, 1892. A doll shop by the river."
Spike stared blankly at his grand-sire. "There were a lot of doll shops, mate."
"I need you to remember. Dru was talking while I - took you over the workbench."
"On, yeah, that one. You were more enthusiastic than usual."
Angel didn't smile or look away from the younger man's eyes despite the light tone. "I think Dru made the prophecy then."
Spike stopped flaunting his well built body and wrapped the towel around his hips. "So what was it?"
"I don't know. I remember she was talking to herself but I wasn't listening."
"What's this? Finally admitting your perfect memory might not be so perfect?"
"It's only that good when I'm concentrating and I had something else on my mind at the time." Angel hated how easily the younger man could irritate him.
"We'll I can't imagine what that could have been." Spike curled his tongue behind his teeth and let the towel slide down his compact hips.
The brunet let his childe stalk closer, damp hair still dripping down his bare shoulders. "You always did have an abysmal memory." Too soon, Spike stood inches away, not touching but making Angel want him to.
They stood perfectly still for several minutes, the blond giving his grand-sire a way out. He didn't blink when Angel finally moved, curling the fingers of one strong hand around Spike's neck and pushed him down to his knees. It wasn't his favorite activity, given the gratuitous one sidedness of the pleasure, but he would take what he could get.
Angel used his free hand to open his trousers then let it rest carelessly in the bleached curls before him. Spike started teasing the half hard flesh to full attention, remembering the hours of instruction he had been given at Angelus' hand. The ensouled brunet obviously had a lot on his mind when a clever trick with his tongue didn't even produce a thrust back into his mouth. Unused to being ignored, the blond pulled back and bit the inside of the taller man's thigh with blunt human teeth.
The unexpected pain made him hiss and tighten his grip on Spike's hair. "Careful what you sink your teeth into." A quick tug and Angel guided his mouth back to work.
While Spike hummed around his hard cock, the brunet let his mind wander, thinking about the time in the doll shop by the river. Everything that wasn't the compact vampire's body was vague and out of focus in his memory. Angel chased the fleeting words he could remember, letting sentences coalesce over the noise of porcelain shattering.
The blond vampire swallowed every last drop and continued mouthing the softening flesh until Angel suddenly used the grip on his hair to pull his mouth away. Spike landed sprawled on his ass but the older man was staring at the wall, seeing right through it. Before the shorter man could get up or speak, the brunet tucked himself away and left the room.
Spike threw a two fingered salute at his retreating back and growled in frustration at his throbbing cock. Blue balls were rapidly becoming the bane of his existence. Uninterested in his own hand, all the blond wanted was a good hard shag and he wished Buffy was back.
As if summoned by his thoughts, the slayer appeared in his doorway. "What's up with Angel?"
"Ponce has a stick up his arse as usual." The blond man remained on the floor, frown turning into a devious smile. "Speaking of wood..."
Buffy looked down his lithe body and gave him a coy smirk. "Why sire, it looks like you could use a hand."
"Always need you, pet." Spike helped the golden slayer straddle his bare hips and silently swore to buy her more skirts. Pants just made it too hard to get what he wanted.