E-mail: taptap@mn.rr.com
Title: Most Favored
Pairing: Angel/Spike
Rating: Adult
Summary: The Aurelius Clan chooses a new Master
DISTRIBUTION: Various S/A friendly lists.
Spoilers: Post NFA. Angel slays the dragon, and the battle is won with Illyria's manipulation of time, which also results in Wesley's return. Angel, Spike, Wesley, Gunn, and Fred/Illyria are now back in the 'Angel Investigation' business. All live in the Hyperion.
Disclaimer: I don't own Angel or Spike or anything else from ME.
Feedback: Always welcome.
Part 28:
This was what Spike had missed in China, when he'd killed his first Slayer, only to have it barely acknowledged, and even then, in a way more dismissive than proud. This was what he'd missed in Sunnydale when Angel had greeted him so nonchalantly in the school, only to betray him shortly thereafter. This was Angelus, being his Sire again for the first time in over a century of longing for his Sire.
"Sit, young Master."
The words broke Spike's revelry and he looked up to see Angel motioning him back towards the chair, a smirk curling his lips. He looked closely, and even at this distance, with the bed between them, he could see the flecks of gold sparkling in the deep chocolate brown irises. Whatever it was that separated the two was definitely stretched thin now. He considered that for a fleeting moment, then obeyed instinctively.
Spike tried to assume an air of casual bravado as he sauntered across the room, flaunting his nakedness, but the truth was, being commanded by his Sire, and responding to that command voice, had always gotten him hot and hard. He'd taunted the tamer version of his Sire over and over again since they'd met up at the Hellmouth seven years since, inside crowing with glee each time he'd managed to elicit even the smallest appearance of Angelus, the only male who had ever been able to make him submit.
Not that he'd done so easily. Spike was definitely not a beta, with one exception; Angelus. The side of him that was alpha to all others would not go down without a fight. Unfortunately most of his attempts with the twenty-first century Angel began with the taunts and ended with the fight. End of story.
Unfortunate for Spike in that he had a particularly nostalgic fondness for the nineteenth-century version - the one that began with the taunts, progressed to a fight, and inevitably ended with him getting his ass kicked and then thoroughly shagged by the only creature with balls enough to manage said ass-kicking and subsequent shagging.
Well, with the exception of the slayer, of course, and the jury was still out as to who had the bigger balls between her and his Sire. Still, he recognized the pattern he'd followed with her as a sorry attempt to regain some semblance of the original with a pale imitation, and as that tall hunk of lanky, muscled perfection stood right before him now, there really was no room for the ghost of the other to intrude upon his thoughts.
As he passed the motionless figure, he paused almost imperceptibly, wondering if one of those beefy paws would snake out to stop him, hoping it might, and completely uncertain as to what he would do should that happen. He was almost disappointed when it didn't, preceding to the chair then sinking into it. He made up for that disappointment by lounging insolently, his legs spread to obscenely expose his genitalia, while his Sire stood. That had frequently earned him a bit of special attention back in the day, though admittedly he usually had to suffer through a beating first before Angelus got to the really good part. He hoped that wouldn't be necessary just now. Like Angel, he wasn't much in a fighting mood at the moment.
"Whatcha have in mind, mate?" he said, his tongue tucked behind his upper teeth. Phase one: taunting. Check.
Angel strolled over to him slowly, like a big cat stalking his prey, and Spike, for all his nonchalance, became perfectly still. He was predator enough to recognize the signals being sent out by the bigger and older predator before him. Angel played the role of bumbling oaf from time to time to reduce the anxiety of the humans around him in the same way that Spike sometimes played the fool. Neither was a part of their true nature, of course. Angel had not become the Scourge of Europe and Spike had not survived for a century separated from his Sire and Clan at the still-fledgling age of twenty if that had been true of either.
So Angel was not graceless and Spike was not a fool, and both attributes were apparent now in their absence, as the Sire silently approached his motionless Childe.
Angel stopped before the sprawling figure and ran his eyes slowly down the long length of slender body, noting both the relaxed pose and the tensed muscles. His boy was definitely on the edge of fight or flight mode, and before he could choose either, Angel gave him a third option.
"What d'ye want to happen, William?" he said quietly, slowly sinking to his knees between the spread legs of the blond.
Spike drew in a sharp breath, and stared at the kneeling vampire. The sight was almost too incongruous for him to believe. Angelus had pleasured his boy often. He did it because it resulted in his own pleasure, as well as that of his Childe. But Angel.
Angel brooded and repressed and denied himself pleasure of any sort. Spike suddenly pictured him on his knees again, this time before Illyria as he held her from behind, but that had been completely different. That had been to keep a promise, as a means to an end. This was something else entirely.
Unless it was a means to an end as well.
Spike frowned as that thought occurred to him.
"Angel."
The older vampire looked up from his intent examination of his Childe's lurid display and blue eyes met golden brown.
"What's this about?"
Angel's hands stroked over the taut thighs, trying to soothe the tension there. He tilted his head and considered the expression on the blond vampire's face.
"What do you think it's about?"
"Are you gonna answer every one of my questions with a question, ya pouf?"
"Are you going to ask me questions all night long?" Angel responded with a smirk.
"Angel!"
Spike punched him the shoulder and Angel fell back to sit on his haunches with a grunt, a wide smile now in place of the smirk.
"William, tis not like you to want to converse when instead you could have your cock sucked. Are you sure you're feeling all right?"
Spike swung one leg over the kneeling figure and got to his feet, pacing, and Angel fell to one hip to watch his agitated progress about the room.
"And it's not like you to speak in that bloody Irish accent and look at me the way you are. It's doing my head in! You tell me Angel's nothing more than Angelus and Liam combined, with the soul the pendulum that tips the balance in favor of one over the other. I accept that, though it's hard for me to understand completely. I feel pretty much like the Spike I was before the soul."
Before Angel could reply Spike rounded on him and shook a figure at him angrily. "And don't tell me I'm just William and Spike combined, because no matter how many times you call me by that git's name, it's not true. William is long gone."
Angel got to his feet slowly with a sigh and moved forward until they stood toe-to-toe. He reached up and cupped the other's tense jaw, holding him still.
"No, Spike, you've just hidden him away. William is there. Do you think I don't recognize what belongs to me?"
Spike brushed the hand off his face angrily and moved back a step, putting some distance between them.
"I don't care what you think. He's not me and he's not here and I don't belong to anyone but myself, not anymore."
Once again he interrupted before Angel could disagree.
"But that's not the point. The point is that I know Angelus and I know Angel, and what I'm seeing now is something I've never seen before. I've never seen these two parts of you so integrated before. I'm worried Angel. Worried that this thing with the Aurelians is more than you can handle. I' ve got to think about the others now, the humans, cause it's what I do. It' s what we do, and I know that inside that pea-brained head of yours it's what you want me to do. So no, I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. Do I want a blow-job? Hell yeah! Since when have I ever not wanted a blow-job, especially one from the high and mighty Angelus? But you tell me what this all means, and you be clear, cause I need to know what happens after all this is done."
Angel sighed and moved forward, closing the distance between them again, and as Spike watched, the gold flecks seemed to increase, dancing like tiny lights.
"I'm doing what I always do; I'm making the hard decisions for everyone. I' m doing what has to be done." His own voice was tight with anger now.
Spike considered his words with a frown. "And this, you and me, that's part of what has to be done? Is that one of the hard decisions you have to make, Angel? Is this how you ensure that everything goes according to your convoluted plan?"
"Don't William."
"Don't call me William! I told you, he's not here. He's."
Spike never got a chance to finish. The fist that knocked him cold came so hard and so fast he never knew what hit him.