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Angel walked into his bedroom, pajama bottoms
slung low on his hips, bare feet sinking deeply into the plush carpeting. He absently rubbed at the healing puncture wound.
He'd just reached the bed and was leaning down to pull back the covers when the pounding started on his penthouse door. Sighing
he looked toward his living room. He knew who it was at his door, and he really didn't want to open it up. Of course knowing
his visitor, he'd just break the damned thing down and come in anyway.
Carefully keeping one hand on the doorknob and
the other pressed to the frame, he blocked the entrance to his apartment with his body.
"What do you want, Spike?"
he asked calmly.
Spike put his hand against Angel's wound and pushed. Hard. Angel hissed in pain and gave way. Spike
strode into the apartment as if he owned it.
"Need a place to doss down tonight. Corporeal now, remember?"
"So
sleep in one of the offices. Sleep in Wes' office if you like. He won't be back for a couple more days yet."
Spike
just gave him a long look and then headed for Angel's bedroom shrugging out of his coat as he moved.
"Prefer a bed,"
he stated simply.
"Not my bed," Angel snapped.
Spike sat down on the bed and began removing his boots. "Why
not? Not like it'd be the first time we shared a mattress." Standing up he stripped off his shirt and then began to unbuckle
his belt.
"That was then."
"And this is now."
Undoing his fly he lowered his jeans and stepped out of
them. Angel couldn't help but stare at the lean, alabaster body. Ignoring him, Spike headed for the bathroom. A minute later
Angel heard the sound of the shower running. Closing his eyes, he reached deep down for control. It didn't help. He was hard
and aching. Damn the boy! Memories of Angelus and Spike tore through his mind. Sometimes just the two of them. Sometimes with
one of the girls. Sometimes with both. Sometimes with their victims.
Those were the sweetest times.
Angel shuddered
as he quickly repressed the fierce desire that shot though him at those particular memories. Realizing the shower had shut
off, he shook his head to clear it and started gathering up Spike's discarded garments. Where William had been meticulously
neat, once he had taken on the Spike persona, he'd taken to doing things like this just to irritate the elder vampire. He
knew how much Angel valued order.
"Right or left side?"
"You're not sleeping in my bed, Spike."
"Yeah,
matter of fact, I am."
"Spike," Angel growled, giving him a fierce glare. But suddenly Spike was right there in front
of him, blue eyes darkened with desire.
"You tellin' me you don't want this, Angelus?" he purred. "You keep tellin'
me to not touch you. Why is that? Because you're afraid this will happen?"
With that, Spike leaned up and pressed
his lips to Angel's. Angel reached up intending to push Spike away from him, to tell him that he didn't want that or anything
from Spike. Instead, his hands grasped Spike's shoulders and pulled him closer. The kiss deepened and Spike's hands slid down
Angel's back to grasp his ass, pulling him up against his own hardness.
Angel pulled his mouth back once again intending
to shove Spike away, but Spike began to press kisses down his grandsire's neck. His hands caressed Angel's buttocks, and he
rubbed himself against Angel's erection. Angel groaned, trying to resist. Not wanting this. Wanting it so damned much.
Spike's
hand moved around to the front and slipped under the waistband of Angel's pajamas. Grasping Angel's cock he began to stroke
it gently while his mouth once again claimed Angel's.
Releasing Angel's mouth, Spike trailed kisses down Angel's neck
to his chest, stomach and then, pulling down the pants, he took Angel into his mouth. It was at that point that Angel lost
all reason. Grasping Spike's head he began to rhythmically move while Spike sucked and licked and toyed with him in a way
no one had done in over a century. God, how could he have forgotten how good it had been between them? Angelus and Spike may
have disliked each other, been in constant competition, but when it came to sex the only competition had been to see who could
give whom more pleasure.
He was close to coming when Spike pulled back. Moaning in frustration, he returned Spike's
kiss with a fevered need not to be denied.
"Let's get onto the bed, Angel," Spike ordered.
Moving as one,
they reached the end of the bed and toppled in. Kissing, stroking, straining against each other, first one and then the other
dominating the love play, they brought each other to fevered pitch. Spike left the bed only long enough to fetch the dispenser
of liquid soap from the bathroom. Slicking first himself and then Angel, he put Angel's legs on his shoulders, positioned
himself, and slipped in. Holding himself off Angel so as not to put pressure on the wound, he began to move, slowly at first
and then faster as Angel moved in answering frenzy. Spike remembered what Angel liked, and he gave as much pleasure as he
was getting. It'd been so long, so fucking long, since he'd felt this. He preferred women, but this was the exception. Angelus.
His Angelus.
He felt Angel tense under him and then heard Angel's cry of release. His own followed seconds later.
Both men gasped as they sought calm. Slowly Spike pulled from Angel's body and rolled over onto his back.
When he
felt he could speak coherently again he asked, "Right side or left?"
"Left."
The End
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