Number One Lowest Common Denominator 7
by Adsum

 

Angel watched the indecision trace its way across Spike's expressive visage. He feared he had gone too far, too fast, but he wanted Spike in this most intimate of ways. Both for himself and for Spike, it would signal a bond that was apart from anything Angelus and William had ever shared. It would be their new beginning manifested.

Spike closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his courage then leaned forward, engaging Angel in a kiss and pushing him down flat upon the mattress. For long moments, he traveled over the planes of Angel's face, kissing and sometimes licking then leisurely made his way down his neck, adding small nips that just pulled up the skin into his repertoire. Light moans escaped his prey, and tiny frissons ran across the muscles under attack. By the time he had worked his way down to Angel's nipples they were already pebbled and taut with excitement. He paused momentarily to taste one, savoring the flavor and the reaction of the flesh in his mouth. A part of him wanted to bite down hard enough to break the skin, but he resisted, wanting to wait until Angel was further enveloped in passion's bonds before taking the risk. He still half-believed that the wrong move could bring a Sire's wrath down upon him for daring to touch this body in a predacious way.

Angel was luxuriating in the sensations Spike caused as he perused downward. Allowing him this level of control and self-determination was both harder and easier than Angel had thought. The part of him that was Angelus was furious at a childe taking charge in this manner, and as a result, Angel had to constantly guard against instinctively grabbing his childe and reasserting his dominance. The rest of him was drowning in a passionate onslaught that in some ways made it equally hard to remain passive under those skillful touches. To release his emotions and contain his movements was a delicious conflict but one at which he was determined to succeed.

As Spike inched down Angel's delineated abdomen, the movements beneath him became sharper and more unsettling. He kept expecting at any moment to be thrown off his Sire and onto the floor. Finally, after one sudden flinch caused his lungs to take a sharp, unnecessary breath, he sat up by Angel's side. Taking a risk that he was sure would quickly lead to either heaven or hell, he casually and quietly asked, "Turn over for me, Angel, will you?"

It took a moment for the words' meaning to penetrate Angel's fevered consciousness, and then he raised his head to look blearily into his childe's eyes. Seeing only the promise of more pleasure there, he obediently rolled over onto his stomach and stretched his arms above his head. The other things (besides the nightstand with Angel's sex toys and lube) that had caught Spike's attention whilst searching Angel's room that first day were tucked in between the wall and the mattress under the headboard: it was a set of firmly affixed chains and manacles.

Straddling Angel's waist, Spike reached up and pulled them slowly out. Angel tensed slightly at the sound, pulled his hands back under his chin and turned his head expectantly to where he could see Spike leaning over his shoulders.

"Is there something you want to do with those, Spike?" His tone of voice was calm, almost sedated, but there was an underlying nervousness that was clear, at least to another vampire.

Spike leaned further down so his chest was weighing Angel's shoulders down into the mattress and his lips were able to play with Angel's ear.
"It's hard to give you my full attention, Luv, when my instincts keep telling me Angelus is going to beat me to a bloody pulp because of it . . . and I want to give this my undivided attention; I assure you, pet. So, I thought if. . . ."

Spike was interrupted by Angel's muted, appreciative laughter.

"No one can ever say I raised a stupid childe. Either you are more than right and this will make it easier on the both of us, or you want some of your own back and aren't thinking ahead to when I eventually get loose." Angel was momentarily distracted by Spike's tongue tracing the skin behind his ear. Deciding he probably deserved what he got no matter where this took him, he opted for trusting this platinum-headed spectre of his William; he moaned softly and stretched his arms out next to the chains.

"Do your worst, Childe."

Spike shuddered at his Sire's surrender but quickly fastened the manacles around his wrists. Angel pulled on them hard to show Spike that they were indeed designed to hold him then relaxed completely, satisfied that his paths of resistance had been substantially reduced. Spike straddled Angel's upper thighs, aligning his shaft with the crevice of Angel's arse, and ran his hands up Angel's back to knead his shoulders. He paused a moment to let the sight sink in; he wanted to remember this moment: the first time his Sire lay entirely in his control.

His eyes were drawn to the tattoo on Angel's right shoulder blade. He ran his fingers over the design, first tracing the letter A and then the gryphon's neck and wing, his touch light and tantalizing. Angel began breathing shallowly and flexed his shoulders. Spike placed a firm kiss directly at the point where the gryphon's legs crossed atop the letter; smiling satisfactorily when it caused Angel's breathing to hitch. He let his fangs drop and nuzzled the base of Angel's neck, allowing him to feel the sharp points skating over the skin. Waiting to make sure the possibilities had sunk in, he felt goose bumps form under his lips, and then pushed slightly harder until just before the skin broke. When no protest came, he let his fangs recede and sucked hard at the same moment, leaving a love bite behind rather than a real one.

Sliding down his body, Spike licked infinity symbols on either side of the spine at the small of Angel's back. It made his back spasm uncontrollably, which caused Spike to laugh in a wantonly wicked manner. Turning his attention to the offering of fleshy mounds below, Spike licked along the crevice between them and then kissed the indentations on each cheek before alternating a rain of bites and kisses over both sides. Angel's shallow breathing approached hyperventilation, and his hips humped the mattress helplessly. If he had truly needed to breathe, he would have passed out, but as it was, he could only gasp the occasional, longing whimper.

"On your knees, Pet." Spike waited until Angel had complied, then, "Spread 'em. That's it, Luv." Spike took hold of Angel's hips and pulled him back away from the headboard, making it impossible for him to rise onto his elbows; forcing him to bear his weight on his shoulders, head and outstretched arms. He looked like an offering to the gods, semi-prostrate in devotion, but Spike was the one planning to show his devotion to this helpless offering. Starting at the tailbone he ran his tongue down the valley between Angel's cheeks, digging his fingers into Angel's thighs as he instinctively tried to squirm away from the unfamiliar sensation. He played around the asterisk of flesh, never quite touching it, before continuing to the perineum and stopping just short of the dangling sac. He made the return trip without his tongue, just breathing on the wet skin and making it contract as the moisture condensed and evaporated.

He repeated this journey several times, each time getting a little bit closer to actually licking Angel's by now twitching entrance. A smug smile came to his lips as he heard Angel pleadingly call, "Spike." Abandoning the teasing for the moment, he stiffened his tongue and flicked the tip back and forth over Angel's hole, getting it slick with saliva. Angel didn't have much room to maneuver, but he managed to make tiny thrusts back towards Spike's infuriating tongue. Spike rewarded that behavior with a gentle penetration, slow and shallow and got the satisfaction of hearing a heartfelt groan of appreciation that ended in something quite like a sob.

Taking pity on the vampire now shaking with arousal beneath him, Spike moved far enough away to get clear and flipped Angel over onto his back in one quick movement. The chains at the headboard twisted around each other drawing the manacles slightly closer and leaving Angel even more stretched out than he had been before. Admiring the view, Spike had to admit that the position was flattering to Angel's long body. Reaching over to the nightstand, Spike removed something and palmed it into his hand. He knelt between Angel's spread legs and then bent down suddenly and took Angel's full length into his mouth. It was a devastating attack on Angel's senses; with Spike using every trick and tactic Angelus had ever taught him about bringing pleasure to this body. In scant moments Angel was soundlessly gasping his release, and Spike was swallowing victoriously. He sat up and watched Angel coming back to himself; a knowing smirk perched on his swollen lips, awaiting a reaction. Seeing Angel's eyes come into focus and drift to him, Spike leaned forward and held out his hand.

"Now, what exactly are you doing with this? I ask myself." Letting a rubber cock ring with quick releases on either side dangle from his outstretched fingers, he continued.

"Have we been punishing ourselves by denying release, Angel? Really, Luv, that's bordering on too kinky even for me," he clucked in disapproval.

Angel flushed darkly and looked away; Spike crowed with triumphant amusement.

"Oh, I just knew you were going to deny . . . but I was right. You sad, sad excuse for a vampire; well, we're going to explore the idea of withholding release, Pet . . . at least until I say it's time, and you beg prettily enough. I think you'll find it's more fun when two are involved." Spike reached down and placed the cock ring around Angel's cock and balls, tightening it just enough that it would allow the entry of blood but restrict it's exit, then he reached beneath and stroked Angel's sensitive perineum to accelerate that end. To his immense satisfaction, Ange began to harden almost immediately.

Angel squirmed frantically in an effort to escape but succeeded in little other than rattling his chains.

"Spike," he gasped, "don't . . . let me go."

Spike smiled nastily, "Was that one statement or two, Pet? Don't worry; I don't intend to let you go yet. Not for quite a while. Feel free to beg though or threaten if it makes you feel all manly."

"You've made your point, Spike. You can stop now." Angel sounded reasonable, but there was a hint of desperation over it, faint as a watercolor wash. Spike was beginning to feel smugly powerful. He had no doubt that if he pushed this too far Angel would find some way to retaliate, but he was starting to think that might be an end, in and of itself: especially if it was a retaliation in kind. He reached up and sharply twisted both of Angel's nipples, watching the areolas darken and pebble. Angel let out a low moan, less of pain than longing. Spike ran black nails lightly over Angel's arms, chest and sides, making the flesh crawl under the subtle stimulation then randomly scratched deeper, leaving abstract designs in angry red lines.

Spike lay on top of Angel and sucked a nipple into his mouth, holding it between his teeth just tight enough to twinge; he rapidly flicked the tip back and forth with his tongue whilst sucking to a counter-rhythm. Angel cried out and arched his back, pushing his chest closer to Spike's torturous mouth as if afraid the sensation would stop. Feeling Angel arch up, Spike ground his hips down, trapping their cocks between their flexing, rock-hard stomachs.

Noting that Angel's erection already felt like a velvet-covered concrete pole, Spike sat back to observe his handiwork. Angel looked like the picture of debauchery: arms bound over his head, torso covered in scratches and bite marks, and hips thrusting up a reddened, straining cock. Spike ran his hands down Angel's thighs, spreading his legs a little farther apart.

"Angel," he whispered. Once he had gotten the frustrated vampire's undivided attention, he smiled gently.
"Put your feet flat on the bed, Luv." Angel took a deep breath, as if steadying for an onslaught and then obeyed. Spike caressed the tops of his thighs from the knees down to the crease at his hip joint and back.
"Can you keep them there, do you think? I can restrain you, if you'd like help." Spike fought back showing his amusement at the terrible struggle that was displayed clearly across Angel's normally brooding features, wanting Angel to be forced to this decision: to acquiesce, whether by submitting without a struggle or requesting further bonds, was apparently as foreign a concept to Angel as it would have been to Angelus. Spike lightly stroked the limbs in question and waited.

Angel, more than anything, wanted Spike to continue. He was burning with a consuming desire and just grazing by the thought of Spike preparing him for entry would have been enough to make him cum had it not been for the cock ring. Still, both his choices were somewhat anathema to the nature of both the soul and the demon. Could he ask his childe to restrain him? To be completely at Spike's mercy - there was a contradiction in terms - would mean gaining the ability to struggle when instinct prompted without avoiding what was, in the end, not only inevitable but also desirable. On the other hand, to willingly deny that instinct and submit to what, they both knew, they both wanted had an appeal all its own. Angel returned from his musings and smiled lewdly at the platinum-haired demon between his legs.

"I think I can restrain my legs, since you've taken care of the rest of me" he replied drolly, moving his hands enough to make noise and glancing significantly at his groin. Spike returned his smile, obviously pleased and reached for the lube. Coating his index finger generously, he began by stroking the tiny asterisk, entering to the first joint and then back out to spread the slickness evenly.

Angel let his eyes drift closed, the better to feel the unique sensations caused by Spike's finger easing its way into him. By the time the entire finger slid inside, Angel was aware of a deep, almost subliminal growl emanating in his chest but suffusing his entire body.

Spike felt, before he heard, the rumble of Angel's pleasure. It didn't pause when he pulled out to lubricate his index and middle fingers. Pushing back in a little faster, Spike tried to give a modicum of pain in with the gentle stretching; after all, they were vampires, and pain translated to pleasure in reasonable amounts. Once he was in all the way, he twisted his fingers searching for the spongy tissue that would give his Sire a sensation that he suspected Angel had never felt before.

Angle's eyes flew open, and he cried out while inhaling. The sensation was orgasmic without the relief of ejaculation. Spike waited until Angel had settled slightly then crooked his fingers again. This time, as Angel's body bowed away from the bed in pleasure, Spike rapidly moved his fingers like a piston letting the crooked fingertips cross the spot coming and going. He devoured the look of incredulous rapture that illuminated Angel's face.

Angel, initially paralyzed by the pleasure, gathered enough of his wits to force a few words past the guttural sounds emerging unformed from his throat.
"Spike. Please . . . Ah. You. . . . More."
Spike relented and stopped the assault on Angel's prostate, but inserted a third finger to continue the stretching and began touching Angel's throbbing cock with his other hand, using his fingertips like raindrops in an unpredictable pattern.

"So, Angel . . . tell me what you want." Spike said, thick with desire and anticipation.
Angel didn't hesitate. "Fuck me, Spike. I need to feel you inside me." Spike made a pleased, purring sound.

"But I am inside you, Peaches," he said ingenuously, as he crooked his fingers again.

Angel growled in frustration. "Your cock, Spike, I want your cock inside me." There was a hint of defiance under the desperation of his words, but that was suddenly swept away when, absurdly formal given his situation, he added, "Please, I beg of you. Please." He licked his lips and gave Spike a look that had lured many a soul to their deaths in the old days.

Spike knew that shock and exaltation were warring for ascendancy on his face, but a mixture of fond lust snuck by them both and won the day.
"I reckon that's as pretty a bit of begging as makes no difference."
He placed the tip of his cock at Angel's entrance and pressed in while leaning forward to seal Angel's mouth with a passionate, possessive kiss. Angel's cries were swallowed up, but his body made it clear that the invader, once past the initial resistance, was more than welcome.

Angel felt as if the inside of his body had suddenly become larger than the outside of it. He felt as if he needed to hold his breath, but in fact, he couldn't stop breathing: moaning, growling, and crying small words and generally incoherent vocalizations. A part of his brain told him he was acting like a fool, but the rest of his brain mugged that part and locked it away in a dark and dank place where it would not bother the rest of them any more that night.

Spike thrust into his Sire with all the passion and urgency of their nearly hundred-year separation. The heat of that envelopment surprised and titillated him. Perhaps the increased friction due to the tightness of this welcoming channel was at the bottom of it, but he suspected that it was the blood between them that called out in waves of lustful heat. His restraint was being shredded mercilessly as he listened to the nonsense pouring from Angel's mouth. The main words, out of the ones that were intelligible, seemed to be yes, more, harder, and (increasingly) please. Spike increased his thrusts, feeling his crest rising unstoppable as a wave. Pulling Angel's knees up onto his shoulders, Spike dug his fingers into Angel's hips and pounded to completion. As his hips froze with the beginning of his climax, he released the cock ring allowing Angel to follow him over the edge while he pumped the final throes of his orgasm into Angel's resonating body.

Angel felt Spike shudder into orgasm and thrust against him as the cock ring was removed. The sensation of release made the world whiteout as he came, his eyes open but blind to the sights around him. He felt his cum splattering on his chest and throat as Spike stroked into him the last few times, then his legs slipped, boneless, from Spike's shoulders as Spike lay down on top of him. It seemed to Angel as if Spike had melted right into his body and nothing separated them any more. Surrendering the last scrap of resistance, Angel drifted from vague consciousness to sleep.

Spike was aware when Angel fell asleep, but he quietly lay there, enjoying the aftermath of what was probably the most intense experience of his long unlife. He idly wondered if it was fucking your Sire that was so incredible or if it was just his Sire that made it remarkable. Deciding there was no way to make that assessment without sharing the experience, and figuring there was no way Angel would agree to that or for that matter that he would either, he consigned it to the "mysteries of the universe" category and eased off of Angel's slumbering but messy body. Remembering Angel's ablutions to his half-awake form, he padded into the bathroom and returned with the wherewithal to clean them both up. Angel's sleeping face had gotten a look of puzzlement or discontent on it, but the feel of Spike's hands wiping away the remnants of their passion eased it back into contentment again. Deciding he had acted enough like his pouf of a Sire, he tossed the wet cloths on the floor and laid his body next to Angel's.

Looking up at the manacles, Spike realized that he didn't know where the keys were, but he supposed Angel did. Knowing from experience that a night in chains was less than comfortable, especially the next morning, Spike nuzzled against Angel's jaw and licked at his lips until he got a response that told him Angel was no longer asleep, even if he was not exactly awake yet either.

"Angel," he whispered, "where are the keys to these manacles?"

Angel sighed and frowned then mumbled something.

Spike smiled indulgently. It was not every Childe who could say he had fucked his Sire into unconsciousness.
"What was that, Angel? Speak louder. Where are the keys?" Angel wrinkled his nose and mumbled again, "Wesley has 'em."

"What?" Spike yelled.

Angel jerked awake and started to sit up only to be held in place by the manacles in question. Slightly calmer, Spike tried again.

"Angel, please tell me that the keys for those manacles are here somewhere."

Angel looked sheepishly at Spike.
"Why would I have a key to them, Spike?" He reasoned, "They're for me, remember? Or for Angelus, any way."

Spike looked as if Angel had grown another head, right in front of him. "Then why did you let me lock you into them?" He inquired in a strained voice.

Angel had to laugh. "You just fucked me until I passed out. Isn't that a good enough reason? It seemed like a good idea at the time, OK?"

Spike grinned ruefully, conceding Angel's point. "Right. I get that, but you aren't going to be the one to explain to Wesley why I need the keys, now are you?" Seeing Angel's delighted grin at the image of that conversation, Spike had to retaliate. "O' course, maybe I should just send him up here. You could explain it to him then." Spike smiled brilliantly, as if he liked that idea very much.

Angel was mortified to find that his cock was growing slightly interested at the thought of Wesley seeing him naked and chained to a bed. Frantic to distract Spike before he noticed, Angel relented, "They're in his desk downstairs, center drawer in the paperclip tray."

Spike stuck his tongue out at Angel, knowing he had been played all along then got up and headed for the door. Pausing to pull on his jeans, he turned to look at Angel displayed on the bed. "Right. Center drawer, paperclip tray. Oh, and Angel, don't think I didn't notice what the thought of Wes seeing you like this did." Spike raised his scarred eyebrow, smirked and went in search of the keys.

 

NOLCD 8