Angel was punching Spike before he even knew what he was doing, his only clear goal to pound the smirk off of Spike's face, to take him down a notch or twelve, to make him weaker again, the lesser demon.
"Damn it," Spike managed to grunt out as he tried to wrestle Angel off of him, away. What made this worse was that he couldn't quite get a feel for Angel's motivation here. Sure, right now Angel was well on his way to beating the undead crap out Spike, but once upon a time, that had been foreplay for them. There was that kiss earlier, enough of a trip down memory lane that parts of Spike that he hated to remember wanted the older vamp again, wanted things to go back to the way they were, none of this stupid confusion of souls and humans. Back in the day, there had only been the blood, and the lust, and all the things that made them more monster than man. Simpler times those, glorious times.
With effort, Spike managed to land a few blows off his own, managed to fight off some of Angel's. Spike was strong, a master in his own right, but Angel had been his master, was older and stronger and way, way more angry than Spike was. There was also the small, niggling problem of the fact that Spike couldn't get the picture out of his head, of how incredibly pissed Buffy would be if he killed Angel.
She'll never do me again, crossed his mind and he blew the next punch, only landing a glancing blow on Angel's ear as opposed to the roundhouse to the jaw he had originally planned.
"Screwing up on purpose, Spike?" Angel breathed as he grabbed him by the throat and dragged him closer.
Spike tried to fight it as Angel pulled him closer, but he couldn't get away. Angel shouldn't have, couldn't have been this strong, this was Angelus's strength, a demon's strength. Good god, what had Willow wrought, when she cast that last spell on Angel? This was more than either Angelus or Angel had ever been, this was the two of them together, twice the demon, half the man. Spike tried to break the grip but he couldn't, he just couldn't. The fury, the rage, and the need. It wasn't just the strength of the vamp wearing him down, it was the emotion he could see in the other's face. This close to Angel, Spike could practically feel the fury and need radiating off of Angel.
Yeah, need. Spike could smell it on Angel. Nearly two years, Angel had been sleeping next to Buffy, wanting her, needing her, never touching her the way he wanted to, living a lie because he thought it would make her love him more, make her stay with him. And now here Angel was with Spike, and they were fighting, muscles hard against each other, and there was a history between them that even Spike couldn't deny. And for a minute, more than a minute, an eternity, Spike was tempted, past tempted. He growled as he felt Angel's fangs graze at him, part desire, part fear, part anger. He was not going to let this happen, he was not, because Angel had been his past, his long ago past, one he tried not to remember, and Buffy was his future. Buffy. He hung on the thought of her as she had been that afternoon, beautiful under him, her face so alive, glowing, flushed with life and love for him as she called his name, as she begged him for me. More beautiful than she had ever been to him before, because there was a joy in her face he had never seen before. When she had come to him today, there had been none of that blind panic, that unseeing lust that he was used to when she came to him. No, today she had been clean, had come in something almost like love.
So lost in his thoughts of Buffy, his memory of her, it took Spike a moment to notice that Angel had in fact not ripped his throat out and drunk him like a fountain. Angel was not biting him at all, Angel was kissing him, cold lips pressing against Spike's throat, his ear, his jaw, his mouth. This, Spike thought as he tasted his own blood in Angel's mouth, is where celibacy gets you. And then he couldn't think at all for a minute, as the need for sex and blood washed over him again, as the memories of his times with Angel writhed ruthlessly through his mind. No, he tried to think to himself, I don't want this. I want Buffy. Tricky to believe that, when he could feel himself getting hard just from the kiss, when his hands were moving without his mind to pull Angel closer, closer. His body remembered Angel's touch, his domination, and it wanted it again, no matter what Spike might have to say about the issue.
"Sloppy seconds?" Spike managed to gasp out the taunt as Angel leaned in again for Spike's mouth and tangled his hands in Spike's hair. "Somehow this isn't how I thought it was supposed to go."
"You I can have," snarled Angel between devouring kisses. His voice reminded Spike of the way Buffy's used to sound, the way she had demanded what only Spike could give her. The familiar tone and Angel's desperate kisses stole all of his remaining thought, not to mention his speech, for a moment. He didn't even fight Angel, he just leaned into the kiss and gave back as good as he got.
But even as he lost himself in the taste of Angel, in his rough kiss, he was thinking no, reminding himself that he wanted Buffy, had had Buffy, there should be no room left in his mind to want Angel like this, no matter what his body said.
With a sudden burst of strength, Spike managed to push Angel off of him, sending the older vampire off balance and staggering across the room. "No, you can't! It's not my damn fault that you've been bloody well lying to the Slayer since you got back to town and now you're gagging for it!"
"He's been what?" Buffy's voice in the doorway, and both Angel and Spike turned to face her. Oh, hell, thought Spike, what now?