Acceptable Losses: Chapter 4/?
Title: Acceptable Losses
Author: fenderlove
Pairing: Spike/Angel
Rating: R for this chapter which features oral sex and general naughtiness.
Summary: Spike and Angel are making a go of it after returning from Hell in Angel: After the Fall. Unfortunately, being a single vampire dad living with your pain-in-the-ass boyfriend and Journalism major son makes Hell seem almost preferable.



Acceptable Losses.
Chapter Four :: The Learning Curve.

Silence was something both Angel and Connor were greatly appreciative of as they walked home long past sunset, slightly bruised but one hundred dollars richer. After Spike had taken the four foundling Slayers to get them settled, they had received a frantic phone call from a business owner who had discovered a Hellbeast in her basement. Not an all-too-perilous job, but Connor was now sporting long, ragged scratches down his right forearm. He and Angel enjoyed the quiet stroll home, surrounded by the sounds of the city. When they returned to the apartment, the noises of police sirens, car alarms, and barking dogs were almost preferable to the riot of teenage girl laughter and the television blaring.

Pizza boxes and empty soda bottles covered the coffee table, and sleeping bags were strewn in the floor. Several shopping bags were piled up near the bathroom door. Daisy came out of the bathroom in a haze of steam, wearing a pair of sky blue pajamas with a cowboy print.

“Ya’ll are out of hot water!” she called out, toweling off her hair.

Reglisse and Pistache sat in the floor in matching green sleep shirts, doing one another’s hair and whispering in French in typical teen girl fashion.

“I can understand you two, you know,” Spike said from his position on the couch, flicking through the TV channels, though he tried to be casual about crossing his legs to obstruct the girls' view of their topic of conversation.

The twins blushed crimson, looking scandalized for a moment before returning to their giggling.

Florence was curled up in the opposite corner of the couch, stuffing her face with pizza.

“Where are you from?” Florence nudged Spike's leg with her sock-covered foot.

He glanced over at her, “Originally? London.”

“Like the Beatles?” she asked, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her pajama top.

“Well, they were from Liverpool. You like the Beatles?”

“Yeah, I like that bicycle song. You know the one? Bicycle! Bicycle! I want to ride my bicycle!” she said with a mouth full of pizza.

Spike laughed softly, “I think that’s a Queen song, Pet. I’ve got one of their albums laying around somewhere if you want to have a listen?”

Florence nodded, and then looked over at Angel and Connor who were standing somewhat beleaguered in the doorway.

It only took a moment for Spike to access that some Florence Nightingale'ing would be necessary.

"I'll get the kit," the blonde vampire said with a sigh, pushing himself off the couch and retrieving a very banged-up tacklebox that housed their first aid supplies from the kitchen.

Anti-septic was passed around like a whiskey bottle, and gauze was unrolled. Connor had to shoo both his father and the teenage Slayers from fussing over him as he fumbled to tape down a bandage on his arm.

Angel decided it was a good time to get some rest and ask about particulars in the morning as he retired to the master bedroom. Spike followed a few minutes later, still toting around the first aid kit.

"You've got sexy wounds. Out with them," Spike demanded matter-of-factly as Angel sat on his side of the king-sized bed.

Rolling his eyes, Angel removed his shirt, "They're just bruises. No cuts or scraps. You can take off the ugly white shoes now, Nurse William."

"You're such a wanker," came Spike's reply as he slid comfortably into Angel's lap. He was practically purring, and the brunette hadn't even touched him yet.

It was beginning to get a little disconcerting how downright cheerful and nauseatingly adorable Spike had been lately. Angel decided to press the issue.

"I'm going to ask you a serious question," Angel then paused, "but I don't want you to get mad."

"Cross my unbeating heart," Spike nipped at Angel's ear, but was quickly swatted away.

Angel gripped Spike's shoulders, holding the smaller man so that he could look directly into his face.

"Are you pregnant?"

A sharp punch to the nose served as all the answer Angel needed. He instinctively cupped his hands over his face, ready to catch any blood that spilled, while Spike was up pacing the length of the bedroom, throwing his own shirt to the floor in an angry huff.

Angel's hands muffled his words, "Damn it, Spike, I didn't mean it in a bad way."

"Oh, so you meant it in a good way then? You were hoping that I was knocked up with your love-child?"

"Our love-child."

Spike glared and continued his angry tirade though obviously trying to keep his voice down for the sake of the young girls situated in sleeping bags in the living room, "You know, I guess I was just taking for granted that you noticed I lack a vagina." He kicked off his jeans, his belt buckle making a loud thunk when it hit the floor. Standing in the middle of the room, stark naked save a few pieces of heavy silver jewelry, Spike made a gesture to his crotch, "Surpise! It's a boy, mate."

Angel snorted and made a grab for Spike's wrist, pulling the blonde back into his lap. "I am well-aware you have a penis. I just meant that you've been very domestic lately, almost like you're nesting... Thank you for the peep show though."

Making a weak attempt at struggling, Spike poked one of the deep purple bruises on Angel's chest hard, "I may cook and clean and play nursemaid and pick out throw pillows to match our duvet around here, but I am not your little wife-y, understand? We're partners." He said the last bit with a pout unintentionally. Angel hated to admit that it was cute.

"You are good with kids- HEY!" Angel had to make a grab for Spike's fist as it was drawn back. "That was supposed to be a compliment." Upon Spike's rather skeptical look, Angel elaborated, "You made Connor really happy today back at the office, and those girls look twenty times less bedraggled than when I first saw them. "

Spike tried to appear still put-out, but he had to stifle a giggle, "...Bedraggled."

"Hush," Angel smiled, kissing his cheek. "Speaking of the girls, are they squared away? Did they call their parents? Do I want to know how much you spent today?"

"Yes, yes, and a definite resounding no," Spike wriggled slightly, his hands moving down Angel's chest and stomach towards his trousers.

Angel quirked an eyebrow, "And this is the part where you bribe me with sex so that when my credit card statement gets here, I won't flay the skin off your ass?"

"That's the idea, yeah," Spike slipped to the floor between Angel's legs, undoing the larger man's flies.

Leaning back on his elbows, Angel asked, "Are you sure this is a good idea? I mean, teenage girls are right outside the door. Young, impressionable teenage girls. I'd hate to scar them for life."

Looking horrified, Spike popped up and gasped, "Who are you, and what have you done with Angelus? Oh, that's right, gypsy curse." And with that, he finished removing Angel's shoes and slacks.

"Ha. Ha," Angel replied flatly. After pondering to himself about their previous night's sex, he asked with some trepidation, "Do you want to try... I mean, do you want to practice-?"

Spike's eyes lit up, "Really?"

Nodding slowly, Angel held his dick loosely in his hand, "Just start by licking around the tip. Don't try to get the whole thing down your throat at once."

With his hands gripped on his own knees, Spike leaned forward, eager to follow instructions for once. His long pink tongue darted out, laving kittenishly at Angel's foreskin.

"That's good," Angel sighed, rubbing the back of Spike's head in encouragement. "You can go lower, use more of your tongue."

Spike's eyes were open and filled with the sort of admiration and devotion he would never express in words either spoken or written. He put his hands on Angel's thighs, moving closer, experimenting with licking his shaft from root to tip, making a little flicking motion every time his tongue passed over the slit. After a few minutes when Angel had become fully aroused, Spike sat back, breathing unsteadily.

"Am I... doing all right?" Spike voice was soft, and it reminded Angel of the first time they'd coupled lifetimes ago. William had been stuck in a constant state of naive nervousness, fear, and the desire to please. It was like trying to bed a particularly fretful Pomeranian... not that Angelus had ever tried such a thing.

Angel reached down and playfully tousled Spike's hair, making it stand up in a riot of peroxide-abused curls, "Stop worrying so much. You're doing fine."

Spike tentatively put his mouth over the tip of Angel's cock and began to suck.

Closing his eyes, Angel groaned softly, "That's it. Just like you're sucking on candy. That's so good, baby."

Spike glanced up with an expression that screamed "Don't you "baby" me, you dirty old pervert."

Unfortunately, that momentary distraction caused Spike to take one inch too many, and Angel had to yank his head up lest he start to choke.

"I wasn't going to gag!" Spike pouted, looking indignant.

Angel gave him a little cuff to the ear, "You were about two seconds away from puking blood in my lap. Now, focus."

Spike's face was faintly flushed in embarrassment, but he returned his attention to Angel's lap. He tried to keep his mouth relaxed, taking his time. Flattening his tongue, he slowly licked the underside of Angel's cock before swallowing back down.

"Did you learn that from watching Darla or from porno?" Angel said, amused.

"Robot."

"What?"

"Remember when I told you that sex with robots was more common than most people think?" Spike asked, sliding one of his hands up and down Angel's length.

"Yeah, but what- Oh," Angel made an exasperated sigh, "Never-mind. I don't want to know."

Spike reveled in a little self-satisfied smirk for a moment before scratching a blunt nail over Angel's slit, "Ready to let me have a taste?"

Angel pushed Spike's head down a little harder than he had to, but the blonde got the message. After a minute or two longer of teasing/licking/sucking, Spike's mouth was flooded with the cold, dead seed of his grandsire.

"Don't try to swallow it all if you can't," Angel admonished as he watched Spike struggle a bit.

Keeping his head down as Angel gave him a rough pat between the shoulder blades, Spike coughed, jizz running down his chin and dripping onto his chest. He looked up with a sort of proud of himself expression, "How'd I do?"

"Much improved. Definite an A for the effort, but craft still needs a bit of work," Angel leaned over to wipe away some of spittle/semen mixture from Spike's lips with the pad of his thumb. "Overall, I give you a B."

Spike's brow furrowed, "Not even a B+?"

"There's no curve, Spike," Angel laughed, crawling under the covers, holding the bedclothes up for the smaller man to join him.

Spike laid down close beside him, his metal rings and necklace cold against Angel's skin, "Well, I guess I'm going to have to do a lot of extra credit then."

To Be Continued...