OF THE TIGER
Angel ran a hand over his hair, picked up his packages, and headed to the elevator. Downstairs, he paused outside the door to one particular room. Not everybody can get in to one of the cherry apartments in the Wolfram and Hart building. Just how Spike had swung it, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. A sweeping movie-score music played from inside. He checked his hair again and knocked.
The music cut off and Spike answered the door. Barefoot, dressed in new black jeans and an open red shirt, his pale skin contrasted sharply to the dark colors. A whiff of aromatic smoke escaped the open door. “Angel!” the blond vamp cried with a huge grin. “Come on in, mate!” He slugged Angel lightly on one arm. Angel couldn’t help but notice how often Spike touches people now.
The room was dominated by a huge flat screen TV, a stack of black high-tech equipment, and speakers strategically planted around the room. “You just missed ‘Fellowship of the Rings.’ If I had known you were coming, you could have watched it with us.”
Bowls of snacks, two glasses, and an ashtray littered the coffee table. “Us?”
The bathroom door opened and Fred came out, talking. “I wish I had been dumped in Middle Earth instead of Plyea. Viggo and Bloom. That’s a sandwich I could…” she saw Angel and trailed off. “”Hi, boss,” she squeaked.
Angel nodded. “Fred.” He turned to Spike and held out the two bottles he carried. “I can come back another time.”
Spike took the bottles to the bar in the corner. “Join us. We were going to watch ‘Two Towers’ next.”
“I don’t…” Angel started to protest.
Fred cut in. “I was going to leave, anyway. The real-life experience of your set up here is just, too… real life.” She fished her shoes from under a pillow on the floor and put them on.
“Can you drive home?” Spike asked, handing her coat to her.
“I’ll get a driver. Thanks.”
“I’ll wait and watch the next movie with you, but I can’t promise about the extras.”
“Okay, we’ll do it soon.” She shot a look at Angel. “Good night.”
Angel nodded again. Spike closed the door behind her and turned to Angel, still grinning.
“I don’t approve.” Angel frowned.
"Of what?” Spike’s grin lessened.
“You and Fred.”
“Me and… It’s not like that.” Spike waved a hand dismissively. “She has some mysterious power to resist my sinister attraction. Besides, she reminds me too much of Dawn.”
Angel looked to the door. “She does, now that you mention it.”
Spike laughed. “Funny innit?” He went to the bar and looked at the label on the sealed bottle, giving a low whistle. “This is some of the better Irish whiskey.” He opened the decanter and took a sniff of the heavy red liquid. “What is it? Lion?”
“What’s this all about, then?”
“Figured you may as well make up with the better man?”
“Not exactly. I’ve been thinking about things. About things you said.”
Spike poured two glasses of the blood and brought one to Angel where he stood reading the DVD titles. Spike sipped his, closing his eyes and savoring it.
“Good stuff. Where'd you get it?
“There’s a big cat rescue sanctuary in Tennessee. For a nice donation, they'll supply a quart now and again.” Angel pointed to the movies. “You should put these in some order.”
“They are. They’re chronological.” Angel gave him a puzzled look. “In order of when I knew I wanted to see them. Then, after I've watched them, I can put them in blood order.” Spike flopped down on the couch.
Angel sat beside him. “Blood order?”
“You know, in order of how much blood, number of deaths, that sort of thing.”
Angel shook his head at the Spike logic and joined the blond on the couch. They sat in the silence of those who know each other well, or too well, for a little while.
Angel looked over to Spike, thinking he was glad to not see that damned coat for once. “Remember the circus? In London?”
Spike laughed. “The lion we killed? We drained that old king dry.”
“He was sad, really. Ready to go.”
“Poor old bloke. Not like this.”
“This is from a healthy, unaltered male. You can almost taste the grasslands.”
“Why did you destroy the Gem of Amara?” Spike suddenly asked. Angel shot him a look. Angel had put his torture behind him and thought Spike would, too.
“I didn’t want to be a target for every evil vampire who wanted to get his hands on it.”
Spike grunted and took another sip. “Did you do anything with it while you had it?”
Angel got up and returned with the decanter. “I went to the beach. I stood in the sun and watched children play. I bought some sunglasses to wear. I went up on the roof, felt the last heat of the setting sun cool on my face, and I destroyed it.”
“You wasted your chance with it. What’s the first thing you did once you dug it up? Try to kill Buffy. So she kicked your ass, took it from you, and you had to hide from the sun. She found it very funny.”
Spike had to chuckle. “Yeah. That was dumb.”
“I know why you had me tortured, Spike,” Angel said.
“So I could get the ring back. Leave it to Buffy to send it to her true love.” Spike fetched the whiskey bottle, and poured some dark amber liquor into his tiger’s blood. “And because I hated you.” Angel held out his glass for a shot.
“It was more than that, and you know it. I think it was because I wouldn’t pay you any attention when you were wheelchair bound in Sunnydale.”
Spike looked into his drink for answers, then turned to the older vamp. “Actually, yeah. For 20 years you were on me all the time, teaching me how to be evil, taking your pleasure of me as you would. Then you left. Darla left. It was just me and Dru for almost a century.
“Then, suddenly, there you were back. Evil, horny Angelus. And I wasn’t even good enough for you to abuse. All you did was parade your virility in front of me with Dru. So, yeah, when I had a reason, I came after you.”
“It was Angelus did all that. Not me.” Angel watched the younger vampire he knew so well.
“I didn’t have a soul either at the time. You know, maybe I should change my name. Now that I’ve got a soul. Maybe I should be William.”
“No, you’re not William, either. William was… sweet.”
“Take that back,” Spike said in mock indignity. "I am sweet."
“You were right. What you said the other day. I never have known the real you. I’m sorry for I all ever did to William…. And to you, Spike.”
Spike considered for a minute. “I can’t turn that down.” Spike topped off their glasses and raised his. “To two souls with no proper names.” They shared the toast.
Once again they sat, silently.
“It gets lonely,” Angel murmured into his glass.
“Yeah. You've someone around for so long, then there's no one. Dru was always there. Even when you tried to take her away.”
“I feel bad about that, now.”
“Well you should. Without you around she… she had periods of balance.”
Spike looked angrily at Angel. “You see, there's the difference in us. I could always see the light in her, you only ever saw the dark. And then you disappeared. She wanted to hunt for you, you know. Whenever we'd go someplace new, she would roam the alleys calling for her daddy.”
“I tried to tell her you were probably dead, but she always said the stars would tell her if anything happened to you.”
Angel chuckled. “Her and the stars.”
“I’ve had the advantage. I got to enjoy her company longer than you did.”
Mixing a refill, Angel added whiskey to his blood, and swirled it in the glass. “Perhaps you did.”
“Plus, I’ve had sex as often as I’ve wanted it in al that time. A hundred years of self-punishment, poor bugger, and you can’t even risk a good tumble for fear of loosing your soul again. One moment of happiness and poof! Angelus reborn.”
“Can I what?” Spike raised his brows.
“Risk your soul?”
Spike laughed. “Mine’s not a curse, mate. I told you. It’s permanent. And yes, I have.”
“Have what, exactly?” Angel knew it was self-punishment, but he had to have the unspoken said.
“I have had one moment of pure happiness. Actually it was more like an hour, but who’s keeping score?”
Finally hearing that Spike had sex with Buffy stated right out, Angel threw himself off the couch and crossed to the window. The lights of the city flashed in silence. “By the way, I can have sex with whomever I want.” He said more to the window than to Spike. “It just… isn’t worth it. It’s not… her. Why involve someone else when I can… get myself off?”
Spike chuckled, feeling the whiskey burn. “I understand. I even had the Buffybot and got bored with it in two days.” Spike smiled at the memory of the sex bot.
Angel turned back to the now slightly-drunk Spike. “I heard they took it away from you.”
“That, too, but when you find yourself smoking during a blow job, something’s not fun.” Spike frowned. “I would've broken it within the week.”
Angel moved back to the couch and sat beside Spike. “It’s not so much the sex. What I do miss is the contact.” He looked sideways at Spike. “Just the freedom to touch another person freely, without permission or apology.” Brown eyes looked into blue. “To make someone react, and to react to them.” Angel reached out. “To just… touch.”
Before he could touch Spike’s hand, the blond abruptly placed his glass on the coffee table, got up, and crossed to the door.
Angel, rejected, dropped his hand and drained his drink, preparing to be thrown out. Then, instead of the sound of Spike opening the door, he heard the snick of the lock.
The brown-haired vamp looked up at his companion. “We both have reputations to maintain,” shrugged Spike.
He took the glass from the stunned man’s hand and drew him up. The two old rivals/brothers/lovers/enemies/friends wrapped their arms around one another and just stood together, enjoying the chance to hold and be held.
Drunken Spike inhaled Angel’s scent. “You smell so good. Just like you always did. It was so wrong being able to see you, but not smell you, or feel you.” Spike shifted and ground his erection against Angel’s leg.
“What are you doing?”
“You come here with red vino and whiskey, talk about old times, get me a little drunk. Then you start talking about touching…” Spike murmured.
Angel started to pull away, but Spike pulled him closer. “What do you have to risk, love? For twenty years it was an almost daily occurrence. And now…” Spike rumble purred deep in his chest. “We both have souls. It doesn’t have to be like it was. We can fuck without fighting.”
“Can we?” Angel breathed.
“Sure. Unless that’s what you want?”
Angel could sort out the emotions swirling through him. He was not even sure why he came here. He thought he just wanted to talk, to re-connect with Spike. But the smell of his prodigy, his childe, so close stirred him, the musk triggering long-buried desires and fondly remembered sensations.
“Spike, I can’t…” He could only stand in Spike’s arms and shake.
“Risk your soul? You consider me capable of giving you a moment of true happiness? I’m flattered.” Spike snaked out his long tongue and licked the rim of Angel’s ear, just as he remembered Angel liking.
“That’s not it,” Angel answered, weakly.
Spike trailed one hand along the other’s back and cupped a cheek of his ass. “Then convince me otherwise.” He bit into the lobe of Angel’s ear, not quite hard enough to draw blood.
Angel gasped and felt himself harden in response.
Spike felt this and rubbed his thigh between the taller man’s legs. “It’s like an old dance and that music hasn’t played for so very long. When I came back to Sunnydale last time, I was actually looking for you.” Spike shifted his head and bit at Angel’s throat with human teeth. “I came back hoping to get some attention. When I found you, you had your soul back. I knew I had a chance with Angelus, but none with Angel.”
“Come on. I had to spend months without even touching myself.”
“It doesn’t feel right.”
Suddenly, with vampire speed, Spike has twirled Angel around. His right arm was locked across Angel’s shoulders, holding him close. His left held Angel’s wrist in a painful twist. He had gone vamp face and his sharp teeth were inches from where neck joins shoulder. Angel instinctively tensed. “Shall we fight, then?”
Angel paused and then let all tension go from his body, submitting. “No. I don’t want to fight.”
Spike, confused, let the vamp drop and stepped back. “What are you playing at?”
Angel shook his head, “I’m… not in the mood.”
Spike heaved a huge sigh and threw himself back on the couch. “Whatever. Stay lonely, then.” He drank a shot of straight whiskey and looked up at Angel. “Well, do you want to watch a movie with me or not?”
After a half an hour of Spike rubbing his crotch, shooting hopeful glances at Angel and sighing, he let the sex matter drop.
An hour into “I Know What You Did Last Summer,” Angel looked puzzled at Spike. “Why are we watching this one?”
Spike pointed at the screen and talked around a mouth full of pretzels. “That girl, she looks like Buffy.”
“Maybe. But the attitude is all wrong. That girl keeps screaming and running away.”
Spike watched another ten minutes and hit the eject button. “You’re right. It’s not as fun as it used to be. What do you want to watch, then?” He turned his back to Angel and scanned the shelf of titles.
“I want to watch you,” Angel breathed in his ear.
“What?” Spike’s brows shot up as he turned to find Angel very close. “Is something periodically possessing you? Cause I can’t take much in the way of tease.”
“No. I just had to see… if you respected me. If you would let me say no.”
“I told you I had changed,” Spike smiles wickedly.
“You say a lot of things, Spike.” He took the once-vicious William the Bloody in his arms and gave him a deep, hard kiss.
Spike pulled away and looked him in the eye. “One condition.”
“What’s that?” Angel knew to ask before agreeing to anything with Spike.
“I’m on top.”
Angel smiled a crooked grin. “It’s the only way I wouldn’t be risking my soul, sweet William.”
Spike growled and made short work of getting Angel undressed. He stepped back and regarded the taller man as his two pieces of clothing joined Angels’ on the floor. Both still carried a faded bruise or two from the fight they had two weeks earlier. The wound where Spike impaled Angel’s shoulder now an almost-healed scab.
Spike grabbed Angel’s hand and dragged him to the bedroom. With an abrupt move, he flung Angel on his back on the bed and flung himself on him. The dark haired vamp gasped to find Spike’s mouth on him, sucking, drawing, making him very hard. “Not so fast,” he pleaded.
The lean vamp leapt up on the bed, landing with his knees on either side of Angels’ broad shoulders and grabbed the headboard. “Suck me, Angelus! Take me all in.” The use of that form of his name was not lost on Angel. Spike wanted his due. A hundred years ago, Angelus would never let Spike treat him like this for an instant. Spike worked his hips and Angel sucked hard, taking what he was given. He ran his hands over Spike’s well-muscled, lean ass and fingered his hole. Spike slapped his hand away. “I’m top dog tonight, bitch.”
Spike got up and flipped Angel over on his big bed. He reached in the bedside table drawer and found a tube of lubricant. “This is a good age we live in, Peaches. How I wish you’d had some of this so long ago.” He spread lube on his hard cock as he walked around the bed. “On your knees, now.” Spike admired the play of muscles as Angel obediently got on all fours. He climbed up behind him and purred, “I’ve waited a long time for this.” Angel said nothing as Spike positioned his hard pole. “How about you,” he asked, pausing, teasing. “How long have you wanted this?”
“A long time. It’s… it’s one reason I could not stand to have you around as a ghost. I couldn’t touch you,” Angel answered to the pillow.
Spike eased his hard cock in slowly, thrusting and retreating, thrusting a little more and retreating a little less. Solidly and firmly he fucked the man who tortured him so. Long ago it was rough contests, who could hurt each other the most, ending with Angel buggering Spike. And in Sunnydale, Angel taking Dru in front of him, again and again. Fucking her in the ass while looking him in the eye where he sat immobile in his wheelchair. Dru's long hair fanned over the long wooden table. But now, they were different men.
Spike sat back on his heels, twined his fingers in the waves of brown hair and pulled Angel up so he was folded against him, both on their knees. Spike’s spread wide. He ran his hands through Angel’s hair, messing it up, feeling the rich waves of it run through his fingers. Angelus would never let him do this except when he was asleep, and Angelus slept lightly. He pushed Angel forward. “Ride me,” Spike snarls.
Angel used his strong legs to move the short distance up and down this position allows. Spike ran his hands over wide shoulders, across the shapely ass that bobs in front of him. “Do you like that, Angelus? Do you like having your lost childe fucking you so?”
“I want to hear you say it,” Spike said through gritted teeth.
Angel played the game and let the shallowly-buried brogue into his voice. “Yes, Spike, William. I love this feeling, You’re so hard. So… deep. I was wrong so long ago. I missed out on so much.” Spike went vamp face and threw Angel off him and face down on the bed. In an instant he was on top of him and buried deep once more. He bit into the back of Angel’s neck and drank deep as he thrust bruising-hard into the prone man. A growl rumbled his chest against Angel’s back as he spent himself. Angel could feel the demon face morph away as Spike lay panting atop him.
Angel was sure Spike had fallen asleep and left him unsatisfied when the lighter man rolled off. “Roll over, ya great pillok,” Spike murmured, pushing on Angel’s shoulder. Angel obediently rolled over, revealing a still-hard penis. “Your turn,” Spike grinned. Angel reached for Spike, but he pushed him back down. “Nope, I told you I’m on top.”
Recovering the lube, Spike coated Angel with it with a maddeningly light touch. Spike straddled Angel, grinning down at him, his tongue bowed against his upper teeth. “Do you want me, sire?”
Angel knew Spike’s game now. His Irish brogue was thick. “Yes, I do. For over a hundred years I've wanted you. Deep within me Angel wept when Angelus kept you out of my arms.”
Pleased, Spike lowered himself on Angel’s waiting cock. His eyes rolled back and a deep sigh was wrung out of him. “So long I’ve wanted.” he whispered. He placed Angel’s hands on his hips once more and lets Angel set the pace.
Slowly, then ever faster, Angel guided his childe over his cock. Both moaned and spoke one another’s names worshipfully. When on the verge of coming, Angel allowed his demon out, pulled Spike down to him, and took back the blood that was taken. Blood and semen remade the bond the two once shared.
The two lay quietly, Angel almost asleep, when Spike propped himself up on one elbow. “Angel,” he sing-songed.
Angel couldn’t help but smile. “What is it, childe?” Still playing the game, he kept brogue in his voice. He was satisfied, sleepy and wanted to savor this rare feeling.
“I want to do something we’ve never done together before.”
“I don’t think there's anything we’ve never done together. And I don’t know where you’re going to get a duck and a rubber hose at this hour.”
“Something Xander once said. Never mind.”
“I want to watch a movie with you.”
“We just watched a movie.” Spike trailed a finger over Angel’s chest, pressing briefly on his wound to make him suck in a breath in pain and open his eyes.
Spike grinned, pleased at getting Angel's full attention. “We just watched a part of a movie, and we didn’t do it right.”
Cautiously, Angel admitted to himself he was curious. “Okay…”
Spike bounded out of bed and led the still naked and sticky Angel toward the couch. “Can I at least shower?”
“You and your showers. If I can join you, sure.”
Angel turned to the bathroom, pulling Spike with him. “Come on.”
The movie was delayed for some time while the two run out the hot water and used much shampoo.
Spike returned the bedroom and came out wearing a pair of red silk boxers. He tossed a black pair to Angel.
“I didn’t know you ever owned underwear, Spike.”
“They were left by the former tenet.” Angel opened his mouth to ask, but Spike held up a hand. “I had nothing to do with it, look in the records another day. Sit.”
Angel put on the boxers, then watched from the end of the couch, amused, as Spike bustled around the apartment, being very domestic. Before long, the table was cleared except for a fresh carafe of blood and a bowl of pretzels. Spike looked along the shelf of movies, put one in the player, located the remote and flopped down on the other end of the couch. Spike grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and looked over at the bemused brunette. “Well?”
“Come here,” Spike sighed, grabbing Angel’s shoulder and tipping him over so he was laying on his side with his head in Spike’s lap. “Now, when my leg goes to sleep, I get to lay in your lap,” he declared, spreading the blanket over Angel and pressing play.
At first, Angel was uncomfortable in this unfamiliar position. He was distracted from the movie as he analyzed this mix of elements. The feel of Spike's leg flexing under his cheek as the other reached for his drink. The scent of his groin, still there despite much use of soap. Spike's hand settling lightly on his shoulder or absently petting his hair. After a while, he slid his hand up to rest on Spike's knee and got a warm chuckle in return. As far as ways of getting contact, Angel decided watching movies rated as high as… well, it was up there.