Author: Mithril

E-mail: taptap2@gmail.com

Title: Most Favored

Pairing: Angel/Spike

Rating: Adult, Slash & Het

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 79:

Gunn stared at Wesley for a long time, then, with Illyria still seated in his lap, reached around her and stuck his hand out. "Deal," he agreed.

*   *   *

As usual, Angel entered the kitchen at around a quarter to four in the afternoon to start breakfast before the others arrived. Today, however, Wesley, Gunn and Illyria were there ahead of him. On the wall across from the door hung a simple sheet of paper framed in mock-vinyl with a plastic overlay. On it, in large, bold print, was their mission statement, listed in three simple lines:

Struggle for Good

Protect the Helpless

Be Redeemed

It was directly in his line of sight as he entered, and he found himself repeating the words silently as he scanned them. He nodded with satisfaction. The brevity of the message, and its location, ensured that each of them would start their day with it in mind.

"Nice," he said, nodding to the sign. "Your doing, Wes?"

The Englishman nodded, in the midst of taking a sip of tea. "A daily reminder," he said, after he'd replaced his cup on the saucer.

Angel nodded, stole a quick glance at Gunn to assess how he was doing – nervous, but not overly so, he concluded – then instead of going to the fridge, pulled a chair out, sat down, and gestured to the black man.

"Inspection, Gunn. Shirt off is enough," he added, certain that Spike had taught them that this position was usually assumed in the all-together.

Gunn stood up slowly and approached, stripping his shirt over his head as he did. He dropped it over the back of a chair, then stood in front of Angel with his fingers laced behind his head. When Angel made a circular motion with his finger, he turned around so that the vampire could inspect his back. He couldn't help shivering when he felt the gentle touch of fingers tracing over his still-sensitive skin, but it stopped quickly enough, and he sighed with relief, embarrassed by his body's response, his cock suddenly as hard as steel, even though he knew that that response was exactly what they'd been working for during their many training sessions.

"Good, it's almost healed already," Angel said, patting his shoulder in a clear dismissal.

Gunn retrieved his shirt, holding it in front of his groin, and quickly sat down. Only then did he pull it back on. Angel got up to dig through the fridge, and at that moment Spike arrived.

Though it often seemed that Spike never quit talking, this was not the case during the earliest part of his day. He was definitely not a 'morning' person, it seemed. Today was no different; he was silent when he entered, nodding to the others and accepting a cup of tea from Wesley with a quiet 'ta' before sitting down and sipping the hot brew. Angel set a mug of warmed blood in front of his childe, to which Spike simply nodded his thanks.

For the next few minutes they busied themselves with coffee and tea while Angel cooked, and finally they were able to fill their plates with fluffy eggs, crisp bacon, and buttered toast with jam. Only after both the blood and the first cup of tea were consumed did Spike load up a plate with human food and look over at Gunn curiously, his usual verbosity finally making an appearance.

"Well, Charlie-boy, what's the verdict? You're staying with us, I hope? Because if you choose anything else I'm gonna have to give serious thought to kicking your ass before you leave," Spike said, a rumbling growl to his sleep-roughened voice.

Everyone at the table tried, with various degrees of success, to hide their intense interest in the answer to that question, so as not to put too much pressure on its object. Both vampires felt the change in temperature from their friend's skin, and knew, even though his color hid it, that Gunn was blushing. After a minute of silence it was Wesley who cleared his throat and answered, much to the other man's obvious relief.

"We talked about it last night, as you suggested, Angel, and we decided that if you will allow it, both of us would like to complete the claiming ritual together. I assume there is additional training that follows?" he asked, his own suddenly pink-tinged cheeks clearly visible to the others.

"Yes, there is," Angel said quietly. "Gunn would be able to fulfill his obligation to Thomas with relative ease," he added.

"Will you allow it?" Wesley asked.

Gunn stared down at his plate intently, heat still radiating from his face, as he waited for the reply.

"Of course," Angel said, nodding. "You honor my House with the request. Is this what you want, Gunn?" Angel asked, turning to the other man.

"I can't lie and say I'm comfortable with the idea, but I don't want to leave, and if this is what it takes..." Gunn's voice trailed off and he stared down at his cup, obviously intensely embarrassed.

"Completing the ritual isn't necessary, Gunn," Angel replied quietly. "I don't require it of either of you. But fulfilling your obligation will be difficult if not impossible without some experience. If you prefer to gain that experience in some other way, that's all right, too. If Illyria were fully trained, for example, she could help you, but unfortunately she's not yet, and it will be a while before she is, especially for what you need. I can make sure that Thomas goes easy on you, but as a pet of my House, he'll make certain assumptions from a vampire's perspective. And he'll have a base level of expectations that it will be imperative for you to meet."

The heat radiating off Gunn increased. "You two are my friends," he finally said, nodding to the two vampires. "I trust you both."

Spike reached over to pat the dark man's shoulder. "Don't worry, Charlie-boy. Just leave it to us and we'll take care of everything. You might be surprised, in fact," he added, winking devilishly. Gunn's heat increased and Spike's grin widened.

Angel frowned at Spike, but nodded at Gunn. "Spike's right, even if I wouldn't have phrased it exactly that way. The final ritual is by necessity a bit rough, but you're a tough guy, Gunn, both of you are," he added, including Wesley as well. "You'll both manage just fine. Think of it as a rite of passage of sorts – trial by fire – because that's what every vampire ritual is. Afterwards... well, your time with Thomas may be an obligation, but it doesn't have to be a terribly unpleasant one, outside of the whole servitude issue. We'll do everything in our power to make sure it's not. And remember, you'll be here, under my roof, with all the members of your House nearby keeping watch."

That thought seemed to have an impact, and for the first time Gunn lifted his head and met their eyes, nodding. "That will definitely help," he agreed.

Wesley cleared his throat and nodded. "When?" he asked simply.

Angel thought a minute. "We'll continue on with our plans to ready the wing for the rest of the Order. Instead of sleeping in your own rooms this week, you'll stay in mine. Training will continue throughout the day, of course. Spike and I will make sure that all three of you are ready to represent my House by the time the meeting convenes. Is there anything else that needs to be done that I'm missing?" he asked.

"I don't think so," Wesley replied.

The others shook their heads in agreement and Angel nodded. "Then I'll see you all later," he said, setting his mug on the counter and heading out to work on his paintings. He paused in the doorway and turned back. "Spike, will you stop by my office for a minute when you're done here?"

Spike nodded and after Angel was gone he turned to the others at the table. "Okay, we'll start on the rooms today. Have you found a supplier for the appliances, Wes?"

"Not yet. I didn't have time to complete the search yesterday, but I've got a pretty good list from the day before I can start with."

He didn't have to add why things had been left hanging yesterday.

"See if you can run that down this morning and get them ordered."

Wes nodded.

"You two should start stripping all the linen and curtains in that wing," Spike said, turning his attention to Gunn and Illyria. "Everything will need to be washed. After the rooms are stripped Gunn will man the laundry room while Illyria starts in the bedrooms. Every surface needs to be dusted down and the carpets vacuumed before we start the mopping and scrubbing. Stand the mattresses and box springs against the wall for a good airing – leave the doors and windows open as you go. Wes, you can work with Illyria once you get those items ordered. Everything needs to be spotless to maintain our House's reputation. We've got lots of time to get it done, so we're going to do it right, understand?"

Everyone nodded, but Spike's attention was caught by Wesley, who couldn't hide a small smile.

"What's so funny, Watcher?" he asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"Honestly? It's just that you and housekeeping don't seem to go together somehow."

"Well, I'm not going to be the one doing the cleaning now, am I?" Spike replied, a smirk curving his lips in answering amusement.

Wesley's smile widened. "Reputation intact, then," he replied.

Spike's answering smile – a genuine one this time – flashed in turn. "Okay, get to it when you're finished here and I'll see you in a bit."

Spike rinsed both his mugs, left them by the sink, and went in search of Angel. He found him right where he'd said he'd be, in his office, sitting behind his desk checking a list over in a notebook. Spike sat down in the chair before the desk, though he felt vaguely uncomfortable doing so, like a schoolboy who'd been called on the carpet by his headmaster.

"What's on your mind, Peaches?" he asked.

Angel looked as uncomfortable as Spike felt, and paused for a minute before answering.

"After what happened with Illyria, I won't blame you if you choose not to, but I'd like your help with Gunn and Wesley's initiation and training."

Spike frowned, and Angel's anxiety increased. He was sure Spike wanted no part of an activity that involved his naked sire in close proximity to him anytime in the near future. He was surprised, therefore, at Spike's response.

"Am I still your Lieutenant and Beta?"

Angel was truly shocked by that question. As amazing as it seemed, he sensed it was more than rhetorical. "Of course you are," he replied quickly, frowning in confusion.

"Then I'll be there."

Angel felt an inexplicable sense of relief loosen the tightness growing in his chest. The thought that Spike had even considered such a thing was extremely distressing to him, but he kept his face expressionless and his emotions tightly under wrap, a skill well-honed over his hundred years of roaming solitude.

"Good. Thank you. Logistics?"

"Your room. That bed of yours is plenty big enough for four," Spike said with a shrug.

"But not for five," Angel replied. "I don't like leaving Illyria out, given her status and role."

"Blue could stand in one place for days and not be bothered. Bring her in as a witness, give her the comfy chair in the corner, then call for her assistance when you need it. She'll be fine with that."

"Yeah, ok. We'll keep them with us for a while and ease them into it. The final rite will be sometime before the week is out, that will give us another week to get them comfortable with their responsibilities. As for the ritual itself, it's a difficult one for a human, and we can't change that, but we can ease their anxiety somewhat, at least by stretching out the timeframe a bit. We'll skip weapons training today. Bring them up to my room when you're through with the first session – cockrings on, of course."

"Of course," Spike agreed, his ubiquitous smirk appearing.

Angel fiddled with the notebook on his desk, staring down at it intently, and Spike sighed, the smirk slipping away. "What is it?" he demanded.

"Um, can we talk about guidelines?" Angel asked.

"Guidelines?" Spike repeated, his voice now dangerously calm.

Angel shrugged. "You know things will get a bit... chaotic in the course of things," he elaborated. "I guess it would help me to know what you're willing to do and not willing to do. Maybe we could set a signal so that I don't cross over the line..." His voice trailed away and he looked down at the notebook again, frowning.

"Didn't we already discuss this?" Spike asked. "Didn't we agree that we would act as childe and sire, at least in public, and iron out any problems behind closed doors after the fact?"

Angel's brow furrowed even more, but he didn't respond, and Spike stood up and began to pace angrily about the room. "Listen mate, you're the one with the issues. Why don't you tell me what you're comfortable with and what you're not and I'll try to adhere to your new 'let's-pretend-I'm-not-a-vampire guidelines'," he said sarcastically, making air-quotes around the words.

Angel looked up, following the pacing vampire's path. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"You never do," Spike brushed the apology aside mid-stream.

When Spike finally looked at his sire he caught an odd expression on the dark vampire's face; Angel was angry and confused, but also strangely reflective, as though he'd just glimpsed something he hadn't considered before.

"I'll admit," Angel said slowly, "that I've gone out of my way to hide much, if not most, of my vampire nature from my human friends in the past, but you can hardly claim that's been the case since Thomas' first visit here."

Angel waited for Spike's response but the blonde remained sulkily silent. "What do you mean when you say I'm the one with the issues?" he asked again, trying hard to keep his voice calm and reasonable in the face of his childe's belligerent sarcasm.

"I mean you're the one with the issues," Spike reiterated stubbornly, flinging the words from him as though they were a bladed weapon, sharp and penetrating. "You're the one who got all twitchy when you found yourself kissing me."

"You were angry. You fought me..."

"Was obviously an awful shock to find yourself kissing your childe, especially in front of someone else," Spike went on, as though Angel hadn't spoken. His pacing had become more agitated. "Embarrassing, I get it. Can't recall seeing you move that fat arse of yours so fast in a long time," he added meanly.

Angel stood up abruptly, shoving his chair back with a screech on the hardwood floor. "I am not fat," he said menacingly, his eyes narrowing as anger won out over the other emotions at war in his face.

"Whatever," Spike waved dismissively.

Angel started forward and Spike tensed, finally still, fists clenched down at his sides. The dark vampire stopped abruptly though, the thoughtful expression making a sudden reappearance, and sat down again slowly.

Spike crossed his arms over his chest and shifted uncomfortably. When Angel didn't speak, but simply stared at him with that unreadable expression, his fidgeting became even more agitated. "We done here? Cause I've got things to do with the others," he finally said roughly.

Angel nodded slowly. "Yeah, we're done – for now."

Spike frowned at the odd phrasing, nodded once, then turned on his heel and left. Angel watched him go, his own frown and the reflection growing.

*   *   *

"All right boys and girls, that's enough for today," Spike said, standing in front of the three pets in a wide-legged stance, arms crossed over his chest. He watched with a critical eye as they unfolded from the obeisance position – he always ended their drills with that one – and nodded to himself when they completed that move with a grace that was, if not perfect, sufficiently worthy of a human pet belonging to the House of Angelus.

Spike stood waiting as they began to talk softly among themselves, coming down from the formal code adhered to throughout the first session of the evening, but as the two males reached to undo the leather bands from around their cocks, Spike spoke again, still clearly in command mode.

"Leave them on."

Wesley and Gunn turned toward him, startled, their hands frozen near their groins.

"Weapons training is cancelled today. We'll continue your training upstairs."

Illyria nodded complacently, but the dawning look of comprehension was followed by anxiety on the faces of the other two. Despite that, when Spike turned abruptly and headed for the door, they followed without comment or question.

Once in their wing, Spike nodded toward their respective doors. "Shower and meet back here. You have ten minutes." The others moved quickly, but stopped as Spike spoke again. "Leave the bands on," he added, glancing down at Wesley and Gunn's erections encased in leather. He didn't wait for their response, but instead entered his own room.

At almost the same moment, in just under ten minutes time, the three pets left their rooms and found Spike already waiting before Angel's door. He wore his ubiquitous black t-shirt and jeans, but his feet were bare and his hair wet, and it was clear the clothes he wore now were clean, and not the ones worn throughout the hours past. The blond vampire inspected them with narrowed eyes, nodded, and curtly commanded them to kneel. The three dropped gracefully to the floor, taking the at-attention position in a line facing the door. Spike inspected them yet again with the same critical eye used during their usual training, then turned back to the door and knocked upon its aged wood surface.

It opened a second later and Angel stood there, bare-chested and bare-footed, dressed only in the thin cotton pants he favored for both painting and training. The knotted waist hung low on his hips, displaying the flat, washboard strength of his abdomen. He was tall and broad, with long, lanky bones, and over them his muscles swelled tautly with unleashed power. Everything about him showed Spike's outlandish claim for the deception it was and the distraction for which it had been intended; there wasn't an inch of fat on Angelus and never had been.

Angel moved out into the hall and slowly circled the three kneeling pets, inspecting them even more critically than Spike had a moment before, more than a shade of Angelus evident in his aspect as he did. A subtle signal from the blond and the three shifted, rising only slightly before sinking down again, this time in the obeisance position. Angel circled them again, nodded in satisfaction, then lightly touched each on the shoulder. One by one they rose to stand before him, hands at their sides in an open position, eyes trained on the floor. Angel turned and re-entered the room. Spike followed him, and the three pets trailed behind.

Angel moved through the small living room and kitchenette without pause, leading them directly into the bedroom.

"From here on out, until I or Spike tell you otherwise, you will report to my room at the end of the day," he said, turning to face them again. "You'll wait outside on your knees until you are admitted."

Angel trained his attention on Blue at this point. "Illyria, as senior to your peers, you will be witness to the ritual as it unfolds. Your situation was more urgent than theirs, so we're going to take a bit more time now and incorporate additional training for all three of you."

Illyria nodded and he gestured to the reclining leather chair in the corner. "You'll stay there unless called," he added shortly, and she nodded again, moving to take the place indicated. She curled her legs up underneath herself, and the casualness of that position made them all catch their breath. Despite her coloring and now lack of hair, in that position she looked like Fred. Wesley and Gunn were still caught in that strange other reality memory when Angel's voice broke their reverie.

"I know I shouldn't feel it and God knows I'm pushing my dubious luck by even saying it, but having the three of you become true members of my House makes me very happy," Angel said. The sweeping gesture that accompanied those words included Illyria, who sat calmly in the corner watching the four males with obvious curiosity. "For a century I was without family. You don't know what that feels like to a vampire. Blood and family – they're everything to us, and I had neither. Now I have a family again, and in here," Angel said, touching the region of his chest where a heart once beat, "a part of me is complete."

Only Angel and Illyria noticed the subtle tension that infused the slender form of the other vampire at those words. Angel knew what had caused it, that Spike questioned his own inclusion in the family he had referred to, but Illyria could only guess. The dark vampire didn't modify his statement, though, having come to the conclusion some hours earlier, after their conversation in the study, that with Spike, actions inevitably spoke louder than words.

Angel moved slowly behind Gunn, then stroked a hand down along his bicep and forearm to the wrist, finally cupping his hand about the human's to lightly brush the dark man's palm. "The three of you have something in common with my vampire family. Tell them, Spike. What did our little foursome share?"

Spike relaxed slightly at the question, its words making clear that regardless of his status now, he had been an important part of the family that had once meant everything to his sire. That was something at least. Copying Angel's motions, he moved until he stood behind Wesley and reached out to stroke one hand along the human's arm, soothing the trembling muscles there. He tilted his head, considering the larger vampire's question.

"Hmmm. Viciousness comes to mind. We were all four that to be sure. But even though all three of your pets are excellent fighters, I don't suppose you meant that, did you?"

"They are indeed," Angel agreed with a soft murmur. "But I was actually thinking about something else."

Spike began to get into the game, Angel's words and tone of voice reminiscent of nothing so much as the hunt of old, when seductive words had often played as important a role as their vampire stealth, strength and speed. He leaned forward to nuzzle the back of Wesley's neck, inhaling deeply through the short, damp strands of hair before he pulled back to speak again.

"Well, we're all bloody gorgeous, aren't we?" he asked, his own voice now husky and low. "And so are these three. I quite fancy them all," he added, leaning in again to press a kiss where he'd nuzzled before.

Angel wrapped an arm around Gunn and pulled him back to lean against his body, breathing in the human's scent, rich with both arousal and fear, from the region of his carotid artery, where thick blood flowed so close to the surface.

"That's it, lad. They are beautiful, aren't they?"

Spike's suspicions were confirmed when a light Irish lilt peeked through his sire's words. Angelus' accent had never been so strong as in the midst of the hunt. Whether he'd used it knowingly, as yet another weapon in his wide arsenal, or unconsciously, the seductive aspect of Liam called forth for a moment so integral to his nature, Spike had never been sure, but its presence now spoke volumes.

Spike nodded. "You always did like to have your pretty things about you."

"Aye, I did then, and still do now," Angel agreed. He licked along the artery, tasting Gunn there, and the human shuddered in response.

"Darla was beautiful, so dainty and so deadly all at once," he said, slipping slowly around Gunn, his hand trailing from arm to back as he moved, then falling away as he approached Wesley. "And Drusilla," he sighed. "My wicked plum. Such a vision of loveliness; so innocent and yet so evil."

Angel trailed a hand along Wesley's arm now, and Spike moved aside to give him room, until he stood between and in front of the two humans, watching as his sire circled them like a big cat stalking his prey. When he had completed his circuit about the Englishman, stopping to nuzzle the curve of his shoulder and breathe in his scent, Angel stepped forward to stand behind his childe. Spike's eyes widened with surprise before he abruptly schooled his features to hide his emotions.

"And then there's my bonny William," Angel said, his voice thick with the Irish now. "So strong and fast and clever, and so very, very pretty," he said, his arms circling Spike's body to stroke along the planes of his stomach and sides. "My bonny, bonny, William," he repeated, each word separated by a warm kiss along the side of the blonde's neck, moving from the curve of his shoulder up to just beneath his ear. One hand came up to cup his jaw and turning it toward him he took his childe's mouth in a deep, slow kiss.

Wesley and Gunn watched with prurient fascination. Wesley had shared a few kisses with other men before – mere boys, really – and Gunn had experienced it once, a little over a week before, with Wesley at the conclave, but watching these two immortal and beautiful creatures kiss seemed like nothing either had ever known. They'd watched as Angel took Spike during the Most Favored reclaiming ceremony, but this was completely different. That had been sudden, hard, violent and quick, and this was just the opposite. There was no shame and no hesitation on Angel's part, and the kiss was deeply erotic, all the more so for the supremely masculine nature of both parties involved. The sight was shocking in its unexpectedness and intimacy.

Angel backed up, still holding his childe tight. When the back of his knees hit the mattress he tumbled to the bed, pulling the smaller vampire along with him. With a twisting roll Angel lay on top of the blond and the kiss continued on, uninterrupted. Finally, after several minutes that seemed endless to the humans, who could count on two hands the number of breaths they themselves would have needed to sustain such a kiss, Angel broke it and turned his head to slowly peruse the two humans still standing at the center of the room.

"Come here," he finally said, nodding to the vast expanse of the emperor bed still waiting empty on Spike's other side. "Join us."

Wesley moved forward slowly, reaching back and hooking a hand about Gunn's elbow to draw him along. They climbed on the bed and knelt beside the two reclining figures, their eyes held tight by those of the dark vampire. When the humans were finally settled beside them, Angel turned his attention back to his childe, who lay tumbled beneath his heavier weight.

Spike's eyes were hazy with desire, lips parted as though panting for un-needed breath, swollen, ripe and flushed with his sire's kisses. Angel stroked one long, strong finger against the sharp edge of a cheekbone, over the soft curve beneath, then down along the throat below, tracing a blue vein. He inhaled deeply, his eyes drifting closed for a moment to catch the scent of the blood lying there beneath the delicate skin, and when they opened again, his eyes were heavy and dark with passion and blood lust.

"My bonny, bonny William," he repeated yet again in a soft murmur.

The two vampires stared at each other as though no one else were there. Angel's hands slid down Spike's torso upon the soft, worn fabric of his t-shirt, then disappeared beneath it. The motion of his hands continued, this time upward, sliding the black cotton along with it, until it was deftly stripped over the blonde's head and tossed to the floor. Now their gaze was broken as Angel let his eyes slowly scan the naked chest beneath him, a hand stroking in accompaniment to that sensual scrutiny. A thumb and forefinger pinched and twisted one pale pink nipple and Spike arched with a hissing groan. When the hand slid away, the now-taut peak was bright with infused blood.

"Good boy," Angel murmured approvingly. "So responsive. Always ready for your sire, just as I taught you."

"Yesss," Spike whispered with a sibilant sigh, arching again as though seeking out the fingers that had been removed.

Angel growled appreciatively at the sight, but did not return his fingers to the flushed pap, instead sliding his hand further down to cup the bulge growing beneath the dark denim. "So responsive," he repeated with a gusty sigh.

Wesley watched with fascination, Gunn with trepidation, but neither could look away as Angel kneaded the encased erection for a moment before sliding up to tug at the waistband. The top button slipped from its hole, and with a decisive twist of his wrist the others popped free in quick succession. Angel's hand slid inside the opening immediately to resume its motion, this time upon bare flesh. Spike groaned and pulled his free leg up and out, opening himself as much as possible to his sire's touch. The actual point of contact was hidden from the pets by the black denim covering, but only for a moment.

"Get them off," Angel ordered, his voice suddenly harsh with restrained passion.

Wesley looked up, tearing his eyes from the spot where Angel's hand lay hidden, to meet the dark vampire's commanding gaze. He reached out and tugged the jeans down, stripping them away from Spike's slender legs and bare feet and then tossing them on top of the t-shirt on the floor beside the bed. Now Angel's hand and its contents were clear to see, the pale shaft, thick and long in his closed fist, and the pendulous, full balls hanging beneath.

"Taste him, Wes," Angel urged.

Wesley glanced up again, meeting Angel's hooded gaze, then down again to the throbbing erection. The crowned head peeked out of its paper-thin covering, the foreskin peeled back enough to expose the spongy tip. Unlike the pale shaft, it was purple with blood and dripping with clear fluid. Saliva flooded his mouth and Wesley swallowed convulsively, before leaning down and licking the clear drops beading up at the slit.

Three groans echoed through the room, one from the vampire whose cock Wesley tasted, and two from the others who watched. When he met Angel's knowing gaze it flickered in the direction of the other male, then back again. Wesley read the silent command there, and turning to Gunn, reached out and cupped a hand about his neck, drawing him forward to place a long, slow kiss on trembling lips. His tongue pushed in and a strangled cry was muffled against his mouth before Gunn's tongue slipped tentatively against his own, tasting the essence of their friend and teacher.

"Good boys," Angel murmured softly.

The kiss stopped abruptly as both turned to the sound, eyes widening at the possessive look on the dark vampire's face as he watched them.

"Come here, Gunn," Angel commanded. "Kiss me."

Gunn whimpered, but leaned down and offered his lips to the Master of Aurelius, who took them in a masterful kiss that left him breathless and reeling. When Angel finally broke the contact, Gunn gasped for breath, his shocked gaze darting about to avoid that of the others. Angel caught his jaw and forced him to meet his eyes. He held them for a long moment, then leaned in slowly, his intent clear. A second, insistent kiss followed the first, this one even more thorough than the other had been. When Angel pulled back this time, the dark man's eyes were hazy; lust and fear clearly at war within their chocolate depths.

"You will have an honor few before have had," Angel whispered. "I don't share well in general, and that's doubly true where my boy is concerned, but you will taste him and know his touch before we're through, and believe me," he said, even softer than before, "you will find a pleasure there you've never imagined."

Angel turned his gaze back to his childe again, and the solemn expression on his face deepened. And you, little one... He heard the words so clearly in his head. What's mine is yours. My pets, my friends, my mission... Me. Everything I have and am, I willingly and gladly share with you because without you... Without you it all means nothing.

He heard them in his head, but he didn't speak the words out loud. Regaining William's shattered trust would not come easy, and certainly not with simple words alone, no matter how heartfelt, not given their complex history. But regain it he would, no matter how long or difficult the road. If it took making Spike angry enough to fight about it along the way – to fight for it – then so be it.

A small smile quirked Angel's lips. Truth be told, both the soul and the demon within him rather enjoyed those angry encounters with Spike, seeing in them a sign of the belligerent but loyal-to-the-core William he'd once known so well.

"Come, childe," he urged, repressing the smirk with a will of iron. "Show them how it's done."

Spike's eyelids fluttered and he groaned, undone by the words and expression, his old sire so clearly present in this moment that there was no thought of resistance. He said nothing, but he played the part of an obedient childe perfectly, spreading his legs open wide in a shameless, submissive offering to his maker.

Angel wrapped a large hand about the exposed, throbbing shaft once more and stroked up and down its length, his eyes still firmly pinned on his childe's face.

Spike groaned, but bit his lip and remained otherwise silent, pulling his gaze away from those too-knowing eyes and training them instead on the hand enclosing his aching flesh. Suddenly the hand was removed and he cried out in anger and frustration. The sound died a strangled death in his throat, though, when Angel drew up on his knees and shoved the fleecy fabric off his hips and down his thighs, exposing his hard cock, long and thick. The pants were kicked away, and then Angel was back again, this time kneeling between the blonde's spread thighs. He hooked his hands beneath them, spreading them wider, then lifted them up and pushed back. With a growl he dipped down and captured Spike's cock between his lips. His eyes flashed golden for a split second, and during that time his fangs dropped, pricked the exposed tip of the meaty cock, and then quickly retracted.

Spike howled as the miniscule pain was followed by a surging wave of pleasure when Angel immediately took him deep to the back of his throat and commenced working his muscles along every inch of the throbbing length, from head to root. Blood was milked from his prick, trickling down Angel's throat along with a now-flowing stream of precum The convulsing rhythm made Spike jerk helplessly in his sire's hands. Full lips tightened at the base of his cock and Angel's tongue pressed upward hard against the underside of the shaft, along the vein that fed him his childe's blood. Spike arched up off his back until his weight rested on his shoulders on the mattress, and on the hips held securely in Angel's hands, his body strung like a bow. He wrapped his arms over his face, the strength of his emotions overwhelming him as his sire consumed him, growling slavishly over his steel-hard prick like a dog on a bone.

Lips, teeth and tongue, Angel devoured him, and Spike gave himself completely, a willing sacrifice to his maker. When his sire's mouth was abruptly removed, he cried out, needing it back with a desperation that felt unbearable. And it was returned in an instant, but only after he heard the words that turned his cries to a sob.

"Come for me now, Will."

And he did.

There was no thought of doing or not doing, there was only the immediate response that followed hard on the heels of a command his body heeded without question. The climax that swept through Spike's frame was intense, all his senses fully engaged. A buzzing in his ears left him deaf to his own anguished cries and for a moment he saw stars. They were quickly replaced by blinking spots of black, though, and then even they disappeared as he sank into oblivion.

Angel hitched himself up on the bed until he leaned against the headboard, then drew Spike's body up along his own until the blond head rested on his chest. Spike's eyelashes fluttered as he slowly regained awareness of his surroundings. When he finally opened his eyes, it was to see what he'd already sensed; he was lying in his sire's arms, his back pressed tight to a broad chest, with the two initiates kneeling beside him. Nestled against his hip, his sire's erection was pressed tight. Angel hadn't come yet, but that didn't surprise Spike in the least. It was clear from his actions so far that Angel intended to lead this training session, and that meant he would reserve his own release until the very end. Spike recognized his role in turn and accepted it, lying still in the larger vampire's arms. It was incredibly easy to do, the feeling of contented lassitude so strong he thought he might happily stay this way forever if Angel would only allow it.

"Wes probably knows about this, from his studies as a Watcher," Angel said, the Irish diminishing a bit now that he'd moved into instruction mode. Angelus was definitely the teacher, sometimes strict, sometimes whimsical, of the trio that inhabited his undead form. "Vampire refraction time is very fast." He reached down to stroke along the length of his childe's quiescent cock with just the tip of one finger and it began to rise and swell immediately in response. "The demon spirits allow our host bodies to survive without functioning organs, but blood is the exception. Blood fuels us, animates us, draws us. It rises in our veins to the pungent scent of fear, to the salty tang of tears, to pain and pleasure alike, whether our own or from others. The undead are never more alive than when the blood runs high within us. Even the presence of the soul can't change that," he added, a tinge of sorrow and guilt coloring his words.

Both the sorrow and guilt disappeared, though, when Angel's gaze left the humans to rest on his childe's recumbent form once more. His fingers slid down to cup the balls beneath the hardening shaft, kneading them lightly, and Spike's cock twitched, while from above, a low moan floated out on the air. He wrapped his other arm more tightly about the blonde's shoulders, nestling him closer to his side, and cupped the hand at his childe's groin protectively about as much of the sensitive flesh as was possible. An almost inaudible purr began to rumble through his chest. The slight tension that had begun to fill Spike's muscles as blood filled his cock seemed to dissipate abruptly as he collapsed against his sire's length with a contented sigh.

Angel lost his train of thought for a moment, captivated by the sight of the lean, pale body resting against him. His childe. His Will. Despite the smaller vampire's apparent relaxation, the erection beneath his hand continued to grow until it was once again full and hard. Angel sighed. God knows he loved his boy in this state, and had certainly kept him in it for much of their years together, but there was something very appealing about him when he was soft and vulnerable. Sometimes he'd made William come over and over again in order to enjoy him that way for as long as possible, nuzzling into wiry curls over soft flesh to breathe him in, stroking the baby-smooth skin with the most tender of touches, and finally lightly suckling upon just the head, as though it were a boiled sweet.

Of course the last caress usually heralded the end of that flaccid state, but he'd learned over the years how to draw out that time as long as possible. Angel considered that now and smiled to himself. There was still training to do in this bed tonight, but when they were through, if he was really lucky and really good – which he fully intended to be – Spike would be too tired to play the Big Bad with him, and he would get a few moments with Will, the childe he'd secretly coveted and adored for more than six score years. And the sooner they got to that, the happier he'd be – though not too happy, he chastised himself sternly in preparation.

With another deep breath, Angel turned his gaze upon the Englishman. "Your turn, Wes," he murmured softly.

Angel gestured to where he wanted him, and Wesley drew a deep breath and shifted on the bed until he knelt between the still-opened thighs of the smaller vampire. While he was arranging himself, Angel released his hold on the blonde's shoulder and reached out a hand to capture Gunn's arm, tugging him off-balance so that he toppled to the mattress on Spike's other side.

Before Gunn could react in any way, his hand was captured and placed, palm flat, upon Spike's chest. Angel drew the hand over the taut pectorals and pebbled nipples, setting up a stroking motion, then released it and nodded with approval when it continued of its own volition. Gunn watched his hand move as though it were powered by another body besides his own, a shocked but fascinated look upon his face.

"Vampire's have extremely sensitive skin. That's why we generally prefer soft, sensual, and luxurious fabrics; buttery soft leather, satins and silks, velvet and cashmere."

"Speak for yourself, poof," his irreverent childe added with a smirk, glancing toward the side of the bed where his black denim jeans and cotton t-shirt lay out of sight.

"Old, worn, and soft, aren't they, boy?" Angel asked with a knowing glance of his own. "And I'm willing to bet that the leather and silk you wore at the gathering weren't newly purchased just for that occasion."

Spike dropped his gaze for a moment and Angel chuckled. "I thought so. They were stashed away in the back of your closet, right?" Angel shook his head fondly at his childe, then turned his attention back to the two humans. "Like I said, our skin is extremely sensitive. You might think that means feather light touches are best, and they are nice," he added, brushing his hand along the pale torso, straight down to the now fully-erect cock. He took it in the lightest of grips, barely more than a teasing hold between his thumb and forefinger, and began a soft, stroking motion to an accompanying moan from the blond. "But it's not as simple as that. We're vampires. What does that mean, Wes?" he asked, turning his gaze on the Englishman.

Wesley hesitated for a moment, a blush sweeping over his face as he stared up at the two naked and beautiful creatures, so alien and yet so familiar, from his position between Spike's spread thighs. "You enjoy extremes of stimulation, both pleasure and pain," he finally murmured.

"That's right, we enjoy pain."

Angel's remaining fingers closed over Spike's shaft until his fist wrapped it tight. When he began the stroking motion again, there was nothing gentle about it. The smaller vampire arched up off the bed with a hiss that ended in a rumbling growl. "Soft and hard," Angel instructed as his hand continued to work at the swelling flesh. "It's the contrast that makes it so delicious," he added, shifting his hand down to caress the full sac beneath with the lightest of touches, the fully erect cock now resting tight against the blonde's taut abdomen, the tip dripping clear drops into the cup of his navel. Angel's hand suddenly tightened on Spike's balls to an accompanying groan. He pulled down slowly and the turgid prick lifted from his childe's belly until it stood up straight. Glancing up, Angel caught and held Wesley's eyes for a moment, then returned his gaze to the impressive erection, his meaning clear.

Wesley blushed again, then leaned forward to lick at the base of Spike's cock, near Angel's hand, which still held the full balls in a tight grasp.

"That's right, Wes," he murmured. "Taste him. Small licks and nips first; he likes that."

Wesley continued to lick upward along the exposed shaft, but now interspersed those touches with gentle nips, pursing his lips to catch at and tug the taut, sensitive skin. Once his teeth scraped the flesh, drawing a blush of red to the surface in response and Spike arched with a groaning cry. Angel's free hand came down to rest on his head, and Wesley stopped immediately, looking up for further instruction.

"That and no more," Angel said, his voice now firm. "You will learn over time the difference between what is expected, what is allowed, and what is forbidden. Biting is forbidden for a pet. Do you understand?"

Wesley nodded solemnly and Angel's gaze shifted to the dark man lying on the other side of his childe.

"Gunn?"

Charles nodded too, his hand frozen in stillness on the blonde's chest.

"Illyria?"

"I understand," she said from her spot on the chair across the way.

Angel finally nodded, satisfied with their response, then turned his gaze back to his childe. "Go on, Wes."

After a hesitant pause, Wesley bent back to his task. He continued on up Spike's shaft with cat-like licks and nips until he reached the edge of the foreskin where it was pushed back beneath the plum-shaped head. Angel's hand on his shoulder stopped him again, and he looked up, waiting for further instructions, but the vampire was instead looking at Gunn.

"The foreskin area is very sensitive. Don't ignore it. Wes," he said, turning his attention back to the man kneeling between his childe's thighs. "Work your tongue beneath it and swirl around the head, just below the rim."

The Englishman nodded and turned back to the swollen prick, while a soft groan floated above his head from Spike in anticipation of the touch of his tongue. Angel instructed him in what pleased Spike best, adding any difference, where applicable, between his and his childe's preferences. When he did that, he would have Wesley practice both maneuvers on Spike's flesh while Gunn watched with a reluctant but prurient fascination. It became clear that both vampires liked the contrast of hard and soft, and pain and pleasure, but Spike tended to prefer more of the firm but tantalizing touches while Angel leaned a bit more toward the pain side of the spectrum. Luckily, on average, both appeared to have similar tastes where sex was concerned, and rarely did Angel have to add a second set of instructions as they went.

And as for Angel, the quiet, taciturn version Wesley and Gunn usually saw in their day-to-day activities was nowhere in sight this night. The dark vampire knelt among them or circled the bed, inspecting from various angles, instructing them by word and touch. He was magnificent in his nakedness. At first Wesley thought Angel was simply stoic about his vulnerable, erect state, pretending to ignore it in order to accomplish his training objectives for the night, but he soon realized it was not like that at all; Angel not only had no shame or embarrassment about it, but actually seemed to enjoy having them see him like that. And conversely, though Wesley worked his body and Angel instructed, Spike's gaze was more often than not on his sire.

At first Wesley came to the conclusion that one of the few differences that did exist between the two vampires lay in the fetish arena. After of a bit of observation, Wesley decided, based on the scenes playing out in Angel's bed that night, that Angel was a bit of an exhibitionist to Spike's voyeur. He'd no more than come to that conclusion than he reversed it, switching the roles between them as Angel so clearly enjoyed instructing and watching while Spike blatantly and shamelessly displayed and gave his body over for use.

Finally Wesley gave up trying to pigeon-hole them altogether. Vampires, it seemed, were simply not like humans where sex was concerned. It became apparent that the contrasts of pain and pleasure, and watching versus being watched were not the only ones they enjoyed. Gender indifference was clearly another, and though his studies as a Watcher had informed him of this fact, in addition, of course, to Spike's very crude words just a few weeks earlier, it was another thing to experience it first-hand.

Angel and Spike truly appeared to have no distinction whatsoever to gender with regards to sex. Wesley, like everyone else close to them, knew about the relationship each had shared with the Slayer, a human female. The stories that circulated among the small group of humans that surrounded both the Slayer and the vampires were already legendary. And although Wesley hadn't observed any of that first-hand, watching Angel with Darla several years earlier, and both vampires with Illyria recently, clearly showed him that their interest in and sexual attraction to women was not simply a matter of convenience, nor was it in any way a charade. And yet it was just as clear that their interest and attraction to male partners was equal to that of females by their actions and behavior this night.

Only one area stood apart, and that was the pairing of Angel and Spike themselves. Nothing came close to the intense physical responses seen when the two interacted, even with so little a thing as a kiss. It was an incendiary, explosive mix, and Wesley suddenly understood that at the heart of all their bickering and fighting lay a very old and strong bond that was forged of a fiery mix of affection, attraction and affinity.

Wesley came to this conclusion just as Angel had finished instructing him in the technique of deep-throating a cock. He hadn't, of course, been entirely successful, but it was his first attempt and he wasn't displeased with his performance. Neither was Spike apparently, since his resultant orgasm had been extremely loud and impressive, not to mention personally satisfying to the pride of the one who had brought it about. Wesley, still busy swallowing Spike's lusty and seemingly endless release, glanced up to see Angel press closer to the blond, kissing and petting him to ease him down from that dramatic climax.

As he watched the two vampires kiss, Wesley suddenly realized that his assessment of the situation between Angel and Spike had been close, but not entirely correct. Affection, attraction and affinity were all there, no doubt, but this was clearly a case of synergy, where the total was greater than the sum of its part. Wesley was shocked and amazed by this new insight, and yet it suddenly seemed crystal clear to him; these two creatures actually loved each other!

Finally finished with his assigned task, Wesley sat back on his knees between the vee of the smaller vampire's lazily sprawled legs and drew in a deep, shocked breath as that realization shifted from speculation to certainty. Spike and Angel loved each other. It was astonishing and almost impossible to believe, given the almost-daily fierce interactions he'd personally observed between them that were usually filled with sarcasm and anger. But once the thought had presented itself, it immediately gained a strong foothold. This was the truth behind all the sarcasm and anger.

Wesley's appraisal of the two vampires shifted, driven by his academic mind. Did either even know that they loved the other? At first he was sure they didn't, but that thought was almost immediately discarded. Angel had said and done things in the last few weeks that were very different from the behavior he'd exhibited prior to then, leading the ex-Watcher to suspect that he did indeed know. As for Spike, what else explained his constant loyalty and presence by his sire's side despite his publicly – and loudly – avowed dislike and disdain?

Of course the whole Most Favored issue was the clincher, and Wesley was a bit embarrassed to realize that despite his early Watchers studies, he'd missed that most crucial clue. At the academy when they'd studied this aspect of vampire hierarchy, the words 'always' and 'never' were drummed into them to define this unique and rare relationship; a Most Favorite childe was always chosen, and never chosen lightly.

No, neither vampire could completely mask their feelings when the situation was viewed through this broader, historical lens, and yet Wesley was fairly sure the relationship between them was not simply being hidden from their human friends, it was being hidden from each other. Wesley was certain that despite the feelings both vampires had for the other, neither had openly acknowledged them, at least not in recent history. Their unresolved relationship was the conflict, the source of the sarcasm and anger that led to an almost constant state of bickering and fighting between them.

That explained a lot. If what he believed were true, then ultimately Wesley believed it made them all safer; love and hope went hand in hand as far as he was concerned. Angel and Spike might not yet have resolved this issue between them, but Wesley now had reason to hope that this would happen. Angel at least appeared to be on a path that led to that end. It made him look on his old friend with a different eye. Wesley sighed, gazing down at the two vampires on the bed, strangely happy with the new knowledge at hand.

"Gunn."

Angel's voice drew him from his reverie, and Wesley crawled over the recumbent vampire's form to make way for Charles. His friend looked shell-shocked, but moved to take the ex-Watcher's place between Spike's spread legs.

"You've never done this before, have you?" Angel asked quietly.

Gunn shook his head.

"But you've had it done."

It wasn't a question, but Gunn nodded in response nonetheless.

"Okay, think about what you like. We'll start there.

"I don't know if I can..."

"You can," Angel interrupted, his voice firm. "Put your hands on him," he commanded.

Gunn hesitated, but only for a moment, then reached out and tentatively stroked a hand along the inner flesh of one taut thigh. A quiver rippled down the flexing muscle and Spike moaned.

"You've found one of his favorite erogenous zones," Angel said, nodding his approval. "He loves it when I bite him there," he added.

Spike snorted and rolled his eyes.

"You don't like it?" Angel asked, a feigned note of surprise in his voice. He pushed Gunn's hand aside and began to trail his own fingers over the area, higher up, near his childe's groin. "You don't like it when I feed from you right here?" The sharp nails of his fingers suddenly dug in through the top layer of flesh covering the femoral artery and Spike arched with a hissing gasp that turned into a moan of frustration when the nails were removed a minute later.

"You should have told me, lad," Angel tsk'ed, the Irish back again in full force. He glanced up at his childe from beneath a fringe of dark lashes. The look was both seductive and teasing in equal measure, and Spike gritted his teeth, determined not to give away so much so easily again this night.

That firm determination disappeared in an instant when Angel leaned down to lick at the bright red crescents that marked his thigh. His immediate and instinctive response was to expose that inner flesh more fully for his sire's use, but Angel knelt beside him now, his body restricting any further movement. Spike groaned and Angel took pity on him, hooking his hand behind his childe's knee and tugging up, pulling the leg outward and spreading him even wider. Spike sighed in satisfaction.

Much better. Despite Spike's second, recent release, this minimal attention by his sire already had him hard as a rock again, his cock suspended above his belly in eager anticipation for more.

"Again," Angel instructed. "Just trail your fingertips over the skin lightly."

Gunn reached out and began to brush the sensitive flesh of Spike's inner thighs. The blond vampire's lids fluttered at the teasing sensation, and he shuddered when they passed over the healing slices caused by his sire.

"Now cup his balls."

Gunn drew in a deep breath, then reached up to palm the sac above.

"Use a firm grip," Angel corrected, cupping his hand over the dark man's and squeezing his fingers tight.

When Spike moaned, he stopped. "Right there," Angel instructed, taking his hand away after he was sure that Gunn's grip was secure. "Alternate periodically with a lighter hold, but try not to be predictable; keep him guessing."

Gunn opened his fist a little, rolled the balls within the sac against his fingers, then squeezed tight again. Spike writhed, pressing down into the touch only to arch away again, a soft, stuttering purr abruptly rumbling through his chest. Gunn's mouth dropped open as he stared at the vampire lying before him.

"Good," Angel said with a nod. "Other hand now – work his shaft."

Gunn wrapped his other hand about the hard cock and began a firm stroking motion, drawing up from the base until the skin pulled taut from the enclosed sac, and pressing deep into the blonde's groin, with each downstroke.

"What did I say about the foreskin area?" Angel asked.

"It's sensitive," Gunn answered quickly.

"That's right."

Angel didn't need to add anything else. Gunn immediately modified his stroke, extending it past the crown as he drew the foreskin up over it completely, then added a series of short strokes of that flesh on and off the tip before continuing with the longer strokes again. As with his other hand, which had never stopped its own milking motion, the patterns here were random as well. From the state of Spike's straining and leaking prick, and the appreciative moans and growls breaking from him, it was apparent Spike approved of Gunn's method.

"Good job," Angel praised, rubbing a hand along his friend's back.

Gunn glanced at him, nodding, but quickly turned his attention back to the task at hand. He adapted his grip as he went, until Spike's panting moans came hard and fast.

"It's time," Angel said.

Gunn drew a hitching breath, and then, without protest, leaned down to tentatively lick the slick head. He drew back quickly, as if he couldn't believe he'd done such a thing, but then bent back and did it again before Angel had to repeat himself. Angel nodded his approval, crossed his arms over his chest and sat back to enjoy the sight of his writhing childe being pleasured by their pet and long-time friend. Having broken through that barrier, Gunn's inhibitions appeared to melt away. He moved quickly from short, tentative licks to teasing nibbles. Finally, with an almost imperceptible hesitation, he took the head into his mouth entirely and sucked on it.

Angel reached down to stroke the satiny smooth brown head. Gunn responded to that silent praise by opening his throat as wide as he could, remembering Angel's earlier instructions to Wesley. He took in as much as of the shaft as he was able, pressing his hand down to clear a path as he went. He couldn't get past the half-way mark, but he made the most of what he had, suckling and stroking with abandon. Spike's writhing and moaning increased.

"Come for Gunn, Will. Let him taste you," Angel commanded.

Spike groaned and arched his back, releasing a thick, bubbling stream. Angel kept his hand on Gunn's head, holding him firmly in place, his desire plain. Gunn swallowed furiously. After a minute he had to pull back to take a gasping breath, but he sank back down again immediately after, and didn't waste a drop as Spike arched and twisted beneath him. Only when the blond fell back to the mattress with a low groan did Gunn release the softening cock and sit back on his knees once more with a look of astonishment on his face. It was clear he couldn't believe he'd actually done such a thing.

Angel's attention was immediately upon his childe. Spike lay on the mattress, for all appearances fast asleep. The dark vampire stroked a hand along the other's torso and pressed a kiss to his forehead before turning back to Gunn. He cupped his hand about the black man's neck and pulled him forward for a frantic kiss. His tongue invaded the other's mouth, searching out and taking every bit of his childe's taste remaining there, growling possessively.

When Angel finally pulled back, his gaze swept over both kneeling pets with approval. He reached out with his free hand to draw Wesley forward and kissed him as well. When he broke away again, his hands slid from their necks to the curve of their shoulders, squeezing each.

"Good job, both of you."

Angel glanced over at Illyria who sat exactly where he'd placed her at the start of the night, then back at the two men. "Lay down, Wes," he instructed. Wesley immediately complied, lying flat on his back beside the other two kneeling men. "Come here, Illyria," Angel beckoned. She unfolded her legs gracefully and came to the side of the bed. "Mount him."

Illyria reached to undo the cockstrap but Angel stopped her hand. "Leave it on." She nodded and climbed on the bed, then straddled Wesley, took his bound cock in hand, positioned it and sank down upon him. Both Illyria and Wesley groaned at the penetration, though there was a note of pain in Wesley's cry that was lacking in hers.

"Don't come yet, Illyria," Angel commanded.

She nodded, her features settling into a stern expression as she tried to control the strong physical sensations already filling her.

"Lean forward," he added, pressing a hand upon her shoulder to ease her down to Wesley's chest. "Your turn, Gunn," Angel said next, turning to the other kneeling male.

Gunn's eyes widened, but he moved to position himself behind Illyria, straddling Wesley's thighs. Angel wrapped his hand around the purpling cock and pressed it forward to Illyria's tight ring. Gunn pushed and the head of his cock popped in. She was amazingly tight, and through the thin membrane of her anus he felt Wesley's hard, throbbing cock. Now Gunn's moans joined the other two.

"All the way, Gunn," Angel instructed, patting his left cheek with encouragement.

Gunn gripped her hips, took a deep breath and thrust, sinking in deep. All three cried out at the amazing sensation.

"Take your pleasure, Illyria. Tell them what you want and come whenever you're ready."

"Stay still, both of you," Illyria said. Her torso undulated upon Wesley's as she pumped her hips experimentally, stroking his cock deep into her channel. She groaned and tried it again, then set up a steady rhythm. "Now you, Charles," she commanded.

Gunn started a slow stroking motion, trying to match her rhythm with a counterthrust. He faltered at first, but then matched the cadence of her body. In minutes the three were moving together with a smooth, seamless rhythm. Their pace quickened, and Illyria abruptly sat up, adjusting her thrusts for this new angle. Gunn reached around to hold her and his hands found her breasts. He cupped them, stroking, squeezing and twisting her nipples, his caresses growing in strength along with her pleasured cries.

Wesley lay beneath them, with the most restricted movement, but between Illyria's grasp on him, and the sensation of the other cock moving along his own, he was almost feverishly overcome. Being unable to release that need was agony to both men, but they couldn't stop even if they'd wanted to. Wesley slid his palms upward, along Illyria's taut thighs until they reached the apex of her sex, where he immediately began to stroke the silky, slick flesh. Nimble fingers moved on and off the prominent button there, flicking and tweaking it directly and indirectly, through the two rings quivering there.

"Harder," Illyria hissed. Her voice was barely above a whisper, as though she couldn't get enough air in to operate her vocal cords correctly.

Gunn's hands tightened on her breasts, gripping her to increase the strength of his thrusts. Wesley thrust his hips up with each of her downstrokes, adding more power to the ones in front as well. He watched his friend's fingers, and when they closed tight upon her nipples, his grasped her clit. Both squeezed and twisted at the same time, and Illyria exploded with a keening, almost silent wail. She hung impaled between them, mouth open and eyes glazed, as she shuddered and shook in response to the overwhelming sensations. Finally, with a soft sigh, she fell forward against Wesley's chest. His arms circled her, stroking her back soothingly, and Gunn's hands joined his, until a minute later the black man lay down against her, their warm weight blanketing the man beneath.

"Enough," Angel said, his voice low and hypnotic. It broke through the fog enclosing the three pets. "Gunn, Wesley; kneel."

Gunn eased off Illyria with a soft groan and sluggishly assumed the at-ease kneeling position. Illyria stretched her muscles languidly, then lifted off Wesley's still painfully hard cock to stand beside the bed while the Englishman struggled into the correct posture beside his friend.

"Back to the chair, Illyria – recharge mode."

She nodded, retook her spot in the comfy chair, curled her legs beneath her and closed her eyes. Her body slumped into the soft leather as though she'd shut off a switch.

"Wes, Gunn, you've both done very well tonight – I'm proud of you. Time to sleep now," Angel said, climbing off the bed. He shook out of fleecy blanket and covered the already sleeping Illyria, then turned back to the bed where the two kneeling men waited.

"Angel..." Wesley stopped, his cheeks flaming red.

"What is it, Wes?"

The Englishman glanced down the dark vampire's body, then away again quickly.

"Don't worry about me," Angel said, ignoring his still-straining erection. "But you won't be able to sleep like that," he added, nodding toward their purple cocks still banded by tight leather at the base. "You can take them off."

Wesley and Gunn undid the leather straps quickly with loud sighs of relief, throwing them onto the bedside table once they were removed. Once free of them, though, they sat back upon their knees in the at-rest position, uncertain of what to do next. Angel smiled grimly to himself.

"Go ahead," he said, arms crossed over his chest as he stood wide-legged beside Illyria's chair. His meaning was clear.

Both men hesitated for a moment, then reached for their swollen erections. Fists closed about straining shafts only to be released abruptly with a hiss.

"Sensitive?" Angel asked.

Both nodded, then tried again. On the third stroke, Gunn jerked his hand away with an oath. Wesley lasted a little while longer, but finally stopped with a whimper.

Angel's arms dropped to his side as he moved gracefully toward the bed. Wesley and Gunn watched his approach with apprehension.

"You've had them on for almost eight hours, far longer than you ever have before. Count yourself lucky. When I was a fledgling, Darla once made me wear one for two months. Didn't stop her from having her own release, of course. I was erect the whole time, so she could fuck herself on me whenever she wanted, which believe me, was often," he added wryly.

The humans gasped with disbelief and dismay.

"Yeah," 'Angel said, nodding in agreement to their unvoiced protest. "It was pretty awful. You can't imagine what it felt like, day after day, week after week. The worst part, though, wasn't the wearing of it, or the constant friction on over-sensitized flesh without release, but its removal.

Two breaths were audibly drawn in.

Angel shrugged, the memory clearly viewed through a vampire's perspective. "Two months would be impossible for a human, of course, but eight hours isn't so bad; enough to be painful in its restraint, and painful in its release, but not unbearable. I'll help you."

Angel sat down on the edge of the mattress and gestured Wesley to him. The Englishman hesitated for a split second, then crawled the short distance until he knelt by the vampire's side. Angel reached out and pulled him onto his lap.

Wesley was embarrassed and distressed. He was actually a bit taller than Angel, but now he sat curled into and held by the powerful figure like a child. Mixed with those emotions was a third one; relief. He felt safe here, and that, in conjunction with the vulnerable, unnatural position, only increased his embarrassment and distress. He whimpered, the emotional conflict and physical pressure undoing him.

"Shhh," Angel whispered in his ear. One hand wrapped around his waist, holding him tight in his lap, while the other stroked along the planes of his back and shoulders soothingly. "I'll take care of you," he murmured. The hand at his back slid around to stroke lightly up the purple shaft with the barest touch of the tips of his fingers. Wesley whimpered again.

"It's all right," Angel whispered, fingers slowly closing about the straining width. "It's all right. It'll be over soon." He began a firm stroking motion and Wesley arched and hissed, trying to pull away. Angel's grip about his waist and cock were firm, though, and did not give way. The whimper turned to a sob when the vampire's hand slid down the swollen prick to firmly massage the balls beneath. His cock jumped, and pain flared from Wesley's groin up his spine in a direct signal to his brain that burst outward an instant later to every extremity of his body. Wesley cried out, but Angel didn't stop. He continued to firmly work both cock and balls until Wesley's protests became sobs, all the while whispering soothing words in his ear.

"You'll feel better soon, Wes. Let go for me. Let it all go," Angel murmured softly. his grip tightened upon the ex-Watcher and suddenly Wesley's release was upon him. Sensation exploded throughout his system. The pain was intense, but in a minute it was over and the overwhelming sensation left in its wake was one of relief so extreme it was indistinguishable from the most powerful pleasure he'd ever known. He collapsed in Angel's arm, turning to bury his face in the solid chest. Angel wrapped his arms around the human and purred softly. The sound vibrated from his chest and into the other's, and between that and an almost imperceptible rocking motion, the Englishman was soon fast asleep. Angel stood up with the slight weight in his arms, turned and laid him on the bed, before turning his attentions to the dark man who still knelt on the mattress, watching him with trepidation.

"Your turn, Gunn."

"No, please..." Gunn whimpered.

"You want to stay like this?"

Gunn shook his head slowly.

"Then let me help you."

It was harder for Gunn. His lack of experience, his pride, and the long-standing image he'd always had of himself made it extremely difficult to submit to such a thing. Angel made it easier for him by pinning his body to the mattress with the strength of his own and doing what needed to be done by force. With one hand he held Gunn's wrists tight about his head, while with the other he worked the straining cock and balls. Gunn cried out and struggled beneath him, but in the end no resistance could withstand the dark vampire's will. He held him by force and he worked him by force, compelling the release that Gunn could not willingly give. A scream of agony rent the air, followed by a sob of relief. Angel slid to one side, removing most of his weight from the shaking figure, the touch of his hands and body now protective and soothing.

"It's all right," he murmured, repeating the words he'd said to Wesley a few minutes before. "You're all right." He rocked his invulnerable body against the more fragile one, soothing him with words and touches, until the racking sobs died away and Gunn fell into a deep, welcome sleep, turning before he did to nestle against the already sleeping ex-Watcher.

"Bloody hell, Peaches, 's enough to wake the dead," a soft voice slurred sleepily from across the bed.

Angel turned his head slowly to find blue eyes pinned upon him, half-lidded and hazy.

"They all right?" Spike asked.

Angel nodded.

"They did pretty well – for humans," the blond added, trying to smirk, but too tired to make it more than a gentle smile. It was William's smile.

"Yeah, they did," Angel agreed, a tight ache in his chest stealing the breath he luckily did not need. Slowly he eased himself away from his sleeping friend, pulled the covers over both humans and tucked them in, all the while watching his childe who in turn watched him. Finally he made his way to the other side and slid in beside the smaller vampire. The bed was big, but with four adult males in it, space was still tight. He had to curve his body against Spike's, and drape his arm over the relaxed muscles of his waist.

"Sorry," he murmured. "There's not much room."

"I could sleep in my own room," Spike volunteered after a short pause.

Angel's arm tightened about him. "No," he said quickly. Another pause followed. "I mean... Please stay," he finally asked.

Spike nodded slowly. "Yeah, okay. Too knackered to move anyway," he added shyly.

Angel sighed with relief, then snuggled a bit closer. He reached down to pull the covers over them, but paused at his childe's next question.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" Angel reached for the bedding again

"Don't think you're gonna get much sleep with that," Spike finally finished, staring pointedly at the erection pressing against his hip.

Angel unabashedly inspected his straining cock. He nodded, then dropped the edge of the blanket caught between his fingers and reached for it instead, only to have his hand knocked aside.

"Don't be such a martyr, ponce," Spike said, shifting his body and pushing Angel to his back until he was draped along the taller vampire's length and his hand was wrapped around the thick shaft. The words were curtly spoken, but the blonde's gaze was now focused downward, away from his sire's knowing eyes. He stared at the hard prick in his hand and began to work it with deliberation.

Wesley and Gunn might have noticed very little difference in the sexual preferences of the two vampires, but Spike knew this body and its likes and dislikes better than anyone else, and he used that knowledge now to maximum effect, bringing Angel to the height of arousal in minutes. The full balls tightened and lifted and he readjusted his hand to hold firmly about the base of the shaft and sac in response. One, two, three...

Spike's silent count was barely completed before the anticipated groan of pleasure-pain was forced past the stoic vampire's lips. He'd bitch and moan about it, but the fact was that Angel liked to be pushed to the brink and then held there against his will. William had learned long ago to take advantage of every opportunity where he had control over his otherwise extremely dominant sire.

And it wasn't because he wanted to control him (well, maybe a small part of him did), but rather because Angel needed to be released from his ever-constant, self-imposed responsibilities from time to time, and this was the only area where he allowed it. He never let go of his control in anything else, or with anyone else, for that matter, with the exception of Darla, of course. As his sire, she'd topped him in whatever way she wanted, whenever she pleased, but even Darla, as controlling as she was, had allowed Angelus a particularly long leash, enjoying his dominance, both for the sexual pleasure to be had, and for the freedom it gave her from the more tedious details of managing the household.

As for anyone else controlling his sire? The thought was almost laughable. No one bested Angelus. He was top dog among the biggest and baddest sons of bitches to be found. Allowing small incursions of protocol by his childer was well within his provenance, of course, but except for sex – and even then only in the most minor of ways – he never did. Well, of course he had from time to time let William get away with mouthing off to him and otherwise behaving like a spoiled brat, but really, what choice did he have? The poor lummox would have spent the better part of his unlife chasing and whipping him if he hadn't. Not that punishment hadn't been meted out frequently enough, Spike conceded wryly.

But the fact was, despite his need for control, Angelus was a whore where sex was concerned, and he wanted what he wanted, plain and simple. To get what he wanted, every now and then he had to give some small degree of that control to his childe, and so he had. But it had only been with William. Drusilla never took such liberties, and had never, as far as Spike knew, been given any freedom to do so. No, it seemed that this was something Angelus had reserved for his Most Favored only. Of course the old days were long gone, but despite the changes the years had brought, Spike was willing to press his luck again, as he had at the conclave following the ceremony. He remembered that night with particular fondness – he still couldn't believe Angel had let him get away with such a transgression. Not that a finger could be compared to a cock, but the Angelus of old would never have allowed any sort of penetration at all, even in his most lenient of moods.

Another moan, this one a bit louder, brought Spike back to the matter at hand. He kept his grip firm but shifted his body down until he was able to latch on to a hard pebbled nipple with a strong sucking action followed by a teasing bite that almost but didn't quite break the skin. Angelus had always loved that, and right on cue, a gasping cry exploded past Angel's lips.

"Spike..."

"Shh, Peaches; don't want to wake the others," he whispered, bending back to lick the sensitized flesh.

The key to getting his sire really wound up was to over-stimulate one bit, then move on to another, until he was a mass of writhing vampire flesh, all of it prime. A sub-audible growl built in Spike's chest and vibrated through the larger one beneath him as he shifted over to repeat his teasing actions on the other pert nipple. He continued the pattern, stimulating swiftly, then withdrawing just as swiftly, only to move on to the next tender morsel of flesh. From nipples to belly button, where he nibbled around the edges and tongued deep inside – his sire really got off on that – to cock. He sucked the tip hard, released the root to stroke the shaft, then adjusted his grip at the base once more an instant before it was too late.

"Spike, please," Angel begged, propping himself up on his elbows to look down at his wayward childe. "I need to come."

"Uh uh uh," Spike said, shaking his head slowly at the squirming vampire. "Didn't your sire teach you better than that?" he added, parroting words Angel had spoken to him not so long ago.

Angel groaned and dropped back to the bed, eyes squeezed shut.

"Can you manage it yourself, or do I need to get a cockring to help you out?" Spike asked.

"Bastard," Angel spit out, glaring down at the smirking vampire again with narrowed eyes. "I can last as long as it takes and you know it."

"We'll see," Spike murmured suggestively, releasing the painfully erect cock and watching it come to rest with a resounding slap against his sire's taut belly. "Hands off," he admonished. "No touching."

It was an unnecessary warning, of course, but Spike couldn't resist. He was rewarded instantly when Angel clenched his fists in the bedding at his sides and began to mutter to himself.

"Insolent, disrespectful, disobedient childe..."

Spike smiled and repositioned himself on his knees. He reached across to Angel's far leg, slid a hand beneath the knee then pulled it up. One hand moved to the calf while the other pressed firmly to the back of his thigh, bending it back to expose the tender flesh at the back of the knee. Spike paused for a moment to fully enjoy the vulnerable position he had his sire in, then leaned in to suckle and nip at the sweetly exposed flesh. The long muscles in Angel's leg quivered under his palms and the dark vampire gasped again, the sound disappearing quickly. Spike peeked around the curve of the knee he worked to see Angel's head thrown back, eyes closed, lips pressed in a tight line. His hands were still held tightly to his sides, though, his cock untouched as it dripped copious amounts of precum onto his belly.

Finally Spike leaned back and stared at Angel's contorted body as though considering his options. He glanced behind him and confirmed that the two humans were fast asleep, as was Illyria in her chair. A small nod indicated that he'd come to a decision, and then he acted, levering his body partially over the stretched thigh. Angel's knee ended up wrapped at the curve of his waist with his foot resting at the small of Spike's back. Suddenly the two vampires were nose to nose. They stared into each other's eyes, their faces just two inches apart, as Spike's hand stroked slowly, almost hypnotically, up and down along Angel's far arm.

"Everyone's sleeping," Spike murmured.

"Yeah?" Angel replied cautiously. He wasn't squirming now, his body held still in that awkward position by the weight of his childe's upon it. True to his word, his hands remained at his sides, not touching any part of his own body or that of his childe's.

"Yeah," Spike said, as though that explained his odd behavior.

After a long pause, Angel asked "And what does that mean?" through gritted teeth.

"Means I'm gonna make you come now."

Spike still stared at his sire, making no move to carry out this plan, and finally, as though against his better judgment, Angel spoke again.

"And how exactly do you propose to do that?"

Spike didn't answer, but the hand that had been stroking his sire's arm left that spot. He slid a finger into his mouth and sucked upon it, blue eyes fixed firmly upon brown, making his intent clear.

"Spike..."

Spike pulled the wet digit from his mouth. "Yes, Angel?"

"What are you going to do?" his sire asked tersely.

"Do you trust me?" Spike replied, not answering the question.

Angel's eyes narrowed.

"Do you, Angel?" Spike's expression was no longer teasing, but deadly serious. "Do you trust me?"

Angel scanned his childe's face, anger dissipating from his own to be replaced by confusion. He was suddenly sure that Spike's question was driven by much more than this simple sexual moment. His features smoothed out a minute later and he nodded, answering the broader question he sensed lurked unspoken.

"You're not a fledgling anymore, you're a Master. I'm not what I was either, we both know that. We've had our differences, but when push comes to shove, you're the one who's always got my back. We've changed, but one thing never will; I'm your sire and you're my childe, my Most Favored childe. Yes, I trust you. Okay?"

Spike glanced away and nodded. "Yeah, okay," he said gruffly, embarrassed by his emotional response to those powerful words.

Suddenly he felt lost, the confidence of a moment before abruptly gone. And then his gaze flew back and his eyes widened with surprise when Angel took the hand he still held suspended and sucked a finger into his mouth. After a minute, he pulled it away, slick with spit, staring at it in disbelief.

"Now where were we?" Angel asked softly.

"I was about to make you come," Spike whispered, his gaze shifting shyly upward to meet his sire's, amazement clearly writ in the blue there.

"Then best get to it, boyo, morning's breaking."

Spike nodded slowly, then leaned in and touched his mouth to Angel's in a soft, almost chaste kiss. A moment more and the tone of the kiss changed, becoming deep and lush.

Angel felt the slick finger pressing against his anus a minute after that. The tip slid in and he grunted in response, breaking the kiss to take a deep, unnecessary breath. Spike's mouth recaptured his and as his tongue thrust in to claim it, his finger did the same. Angel moaned into the wet cavern, tongue too entwined to be of any verbal use, and arched up under Spike's weight. His childe's finger hooked and tugged, then thrust again, changing the angle so that the tip punched into his sire's prostate on the way in, then scraped against it on the way out.

"Fuck," Angel whispered, arching up again as his hands slammed hard against the mattress.

"Another time, peaches," Spike murmured, his cocky grin and confidence back in full force. "Bit too tired right now for much more than this."

That said, he increased the speed of his thrusts, stabbing the small nub inside over and over again, until Angel gasped and opened his mouth to cry out his release. Spike quickly covered it with his own, muffling the sound as a thick stream of cum pulsed over and over again from Angel's surging prick to wet both their bellies.

Spike felt the collapse of Angel's muscles a minute later, and pulled back to stare down at his sire's face.

"Jesus," Angel whispered, brown eyes heavy-lidded with satiated pleasure.

Spike smile and shifted to the side, easing his sire's leg back to the mattress before it cramped. He scooped up the milky fluid from his sire's torso and wiped it onto his own chest and belly, rubbing his maker's scent into his pores.

"Jesus," Angel repeated, staring at his childe, the lassitude in his eyes now replaced by a stunned awareness. "Angelus never..." He stopped, then began again. "I never would have allowed such a thing before, much less encouraged it," he finished quietly.

"Half expected to be flayed for it at the gathering," Spike agreed with a nod.

"You were always so brave, so reckless."

"Felt your lash often enough for it," Spike chuckled.

"I was so afraid..."

Spike frowned in confusion. "You? Afraid? Hard to believe," he finished skeptically.

"I was."

"Afraid of what?"

"That one day you would be too reckless," Angel answered quietly.

Spike's eyes widened with amazement, then narrowed with suspicion.

"You taking the piss, mate?"

Angel shook his head slowly.

"You saying you were... what? Worried about me?" Spike asked.

There was a jaunty note of bravado in his voice, but he wouldn't meet Angel's eyes, and the dark vampire heard the insecurity behind the façade.

"Always."

Spike gaze flickered to his, then flashed away again, but not before Angel saw the hope there.

"Why?" Spike bit his lip as the word escaped, wishing he could recall it.

"I thought..." Angel stopped and shook his head, as though seeing the past in his mind. "I thought it was all too good to last. I thought I would lose it all. And I did," he finished quietly.

Spike stared at him, then shook his head curtly. "You had a son – a human childe – with your sire. Fred told me Darla said it was the best thing she'd ever done. She left this world happy, and that's something not all of us can say. You did that. You're still Dru's daddy, always will be." He pursed his lips and looked away.

"And you?" Angel asked, after a long pause.

Spike shrugged, still not meeting his eyes. "Still got your back, don't I?" he finally replied.

Angel nodded, knowing this was the best he could do this night. Baby steps, he reminded himself, baby steps. "Yeah, you do. But right now, I've got yours." He turned Spike in his arms and spooned up against him, enclosing him in the protection of his body and his arms, and pulled the covers over them. "Sleep now, it's late."

Spike wriggled down into the mattress and back into the curve of his sire's longer body with a soft sigh. The room was silent and dark, but from behind the tightly closed curtains Angel felt the sun's approach. His body began to tingle in response, the fine hairs on his arms and at the back of his neck standing up in warning. He ignored it, knowing that he and his were safe here, together beneath this warded roof and in his bed.

It had been the same back in the day, when a night on the hunt had ended with his vampire family a tangle of limbs in his and Darla's big bed. They'd laughed and loved the last hours of darkness away, and sometimes well into morning, before giving in to the sun-driven demands of their preternatural bodies to sleep. In that lair, together, they had been invincible, and Angel was determined that this lair would provide the same protection and comfort to his new family now.

His new family. The thought made his chest ache with pleasure. He couldn't resist a final count and confirmation. Illyria, curled in the big chair in the corner, a blanket wrapped around her as she dreamt whatever dreams came to one so ancient and powerful. Wesley and Gunn, so fragile and beautiful in their humanness, spooned together facing them, fast asleep on the other side of the cozy bed. He closed his eyes for a moment and sought out Drusilla's presence and in an instant she was there, dark and bright. Another light flickered with hers; Miss Edith. Both flared at his arrival, responding instantly to the blood-call, but he soothed them gently, easing them back into the deep sleep that had already claimed them before his coming. 

And now, finally, all else accounted for, he turned his eyes to his Most Favored. He didn't probe with his vampire senses, and thus didn't wake the deeply sleeping childe. William had always been a light sleeper when any danger was near, ready to defend his family in an instant should the need arise, but he'd slept as only the undead could when he was safe with his sire at hand. Angel gently snuggled closer, spooning the smaller form and enclosing him completely. Over the blonde's shoulder he could see the two sleeping humans, and beyond them in the corner, Illyria. He sighed with contentment, slid a hand down to cup the quiescent flesh at his childe's groin and nuzzled against the back of his neck, breathing in that familiar scent. 

"You are mine, Will. Mine," Angel whispered. "You always have been, and you always will be. One day you'll believe it again."