So, here's a little NC-17 ficlet, with warnings for violence, biting, bondage and dub-con. Heh, Merry Christmas!
“All right, what do you want?” said Spike as he strode into Angel’s penthouse. He resented being ‘summoned’ but he didn’t really have anything better to do, and if nothing else he could probably steal some booze.
“Come in,” muttered Angel sarcastically as he stepped out from the bedroom, dressed in sleep pants and nothing else, wet from the shower.
Spike’s eyes skated over Angel’s bare torso for a moment, but he raised them to the other vampire’s face and plastered on a bored expression. “Look, you commanded –sorry, ‘invited’ – me over, so say what you’re going to say and then I’ll bugger off.”
A little smirk playing over his lips, Angel turned and headed for the bar, pouring them both generous glasses of whiskey. Spike was appeased enough to keep quiet for a short while, letting Angel build up to whatever the hell he had to say in his own overly-dramatic way. Angel took a savouring sip of his drink, wandered over to the window to stare at the city lights, and then ambled back, cracking his neck.
When he sat down on the sofa and gestured to the empty space next to him, Spike rolled his eyes and decided that being patient was too much like hard work. Draining his glass, he plunked it down on the coffee table and crossed his arms over his chest, remaining on his feet. “What?”
“You should make yourself comfortable.”
“Really? And why’s that?”
“Because I think you should stay here over the holidays,” replied Angel, staring placidly up at Spike. He still looked a bit too amused for his own good, which was always worrying.
Spike looked at him incredulously, eyebrows shooting up. “I’m sorry, what? For a minute there, it sounded like you were inviting me over for Christmas.”
“I am. Why is that such a surprise?”
“Well, aside from the whole ‘demon’ issue – which really makes a bit of a mockery out of celebrating the birth of Christ – we can’t stand each other. Why the bloody hell would we deliberately spend time alone together, knowing that we’d want to kill one another after about ten minutes?”
“We get along okay when we fuck,” argued Angel, looking slightly put out.
Spike gave an exasperated sigh. “Okay, fine. Fifteen minutes, then. Doesn’t change the fact that you’re an annoying dickhead and I’d rather be alone, getting drunk and playing Donkey Kong.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Angel dismissively. “I don’t think we should be alone for Christmas, and that’s that. So why don’t you just stop being a brat and sit down?”
“That is not that,” replied Spike, affronted. “Despite certain deep-seated daddy issues you might have, you don’t get to treat me like a toddler. I’m off.”
Angel smiled to himself as Spike stomped towards the elevator. As the blond jabbed the button, there was a flash of blue light and he cursed, snatching his hand back.
“Yeah... I don’t think so.”
Spike whirled around, narrowing his eyes in a suspicious glare. “What did you do?”
Shrugging, Angel said casually, “Just a few wards. I knew that you’d be unreasonable.” He took another sip of his drink and gestured again at the sofa. “So, now that that’s settled...why don’t you make yourself comfortable?”
Spike had spent a while trying to find other ways out of the apartment, only to be blocked at every turn by the warding spells. He’d then tried to convince Angel to stop being a psycho and let him go, using everything on the spectrum between pleading and throwing punches.
Nothing worked. And Spike found out the hard way that the wards also prevented him from harming another being.
And Angel found out the hard way that the wards didn’t prevent Spike from harming inanimate objects. As a second expensive vase smashed against the wall, Angel decided that he’d had enough of Spike’s childish behaviour and he rose to his feet, striding over to the other vampire and snatching hold of his arms with a growl.
“Stop! Just stop. You’re being an idiot.”
“And you’re being crazy! Why the hell have you done this?” demanded Spike. It wasn’t as if Angel had just gotten lonely and invited him over on a whim; this was all premeditated.
“It’s a Christmas present,” replied Angel, still holding Spike’s arms although he stopped struggling out of sheer astonishment at the words.
“A Christmas present?” repeated Spike incredulously. “For who, exactly?”
“For me, obviously.”
“Oh, right, obviously,” spat Spike. “And just what is it that you think you’ve given yourself for Christmas this year? A captive audience for your broody monologues?”
Angel’s eyes sparkled, amused and malicious. “Something much better, my boy. I’ve given myself permission to just...let go, for a few days. Have some fun. But with the safety of knowing that I can’t hurt anyone who won’t recover.”
Spike stared at him for a moment. “Oh God. You’re trapped in here too, aren’t you?”
“That’s right,” agreed Angel. “The exits are warded against all vampires. There is one small difference though...”
“Oh yeah? What’s that?”
Angel grinned, suddenly lashing out and splitting Spike’s lip open with the back of his hand. “I can still hurt you.”
Spike had braced himself for a beating, uncomfortably aware that it was going to be just like having the chip – he’d feel helpless and frustrated and would have no choice but to endure the pain without fighting back.
However, Angel hadn’t hit him again. He’d told him to sit down, have another drink and pick a movie to watch. In a strange way, it was disappointing. For a start, Spike kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, tense and forcing himself not to flinch every time Angel moved. But that was only part of it. Spike realised that some sick part of him wanted to be hurt – although he had to admit that it would be a lot more fun if he could fight back.
As Die Hard finished and the credits began to roll, Angel turned to him and ran a hand teasingly up his thigh. Spike watched its progress, feeling his cock stir despite himself as Angel’s fingers plucked at the inseam of his jeans.
“So... What’s it to be?” asked Angel.
“I’m going to tie you to the bed now. Do you want me to do it the hard way or the easy way?”
Spike gave the other vampire a look of wry amusement. “What do you think?”
Angel laughed and then grabbed hold of him, standing up and hauling him towards the bed, smacking him around when he fruitlessly tried to resist. He knocked Spike to the floor twice and had to literally drag him a little before he regained his feet.
Spike’s lip was bleeding and he knew that he’d be peppered in bruises, but he was incapable of just submitting even though he knew that Angel would inevitably win. Each time he tried to land a blow, there was a pulse of light and a shock of pain reverberating back up his own arm, whereas Angel felt nothing more than a puff of air. So, he turned his attention to struggling instead, trying to twist and squirm out of Angel’s grasp.
All that happened was that he earned himself more knocks, and eventually he ended up thrown face-first onto the mattress anyway, manhandled and indignant and rock-hard in his jeans. Angel was immediately on top of him, tearing at his clothes and pinning him down, humping against his ass.
“Don’t pretend that you don’t love this, Spike,” he murmured into his ear, biting at the lobe, while his hands busied themselves with stripping them both naked.
Spike growled as he was forced further up the bed, his wrists snatched up in a bone-creaking grip. He tried to make it as difficult as possible for Angel to cuff him into the manacles conveniently already attached to the headboard, but it was a losing battle.
Once he was safely locked in, the weight disappeared from his back just long enough for Angel to finish stripping both of their pants and shoes off and tossing them on the floor. Then the other vampire was back, thrusting his pre-come slick dick against Spike’s thigh as he settled back on top, dragging his fangs over Spike’s back and shoulders to leave fine red lines and little beads of blood.
Spike gasped as he was bitten at the same time as two spit-coated fingers pressed inside him, rocking his hips down against the mattress for friction. He was pissed off – he liked to have the use of his hands, not to mention a choice, damn it – but he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t turned on. He and Angel didn’t have sex that often, but it was always fucked up somehow, and in some disturbing way that was nostalgic for them.
The scents of blood and sex made his head spin and he vamped out against the pillow. He arched, grinding his hips down while also making his throat more accessible to Angel, who didn’t hesitate to take advantage of it. As Angel’s fangs slid deep, Spike pushed back against him, not fighting when his legs were pushed further apart and Angel began thrusting between his cheeks.
“Come on,” demanded Spike, straining against the cuffs, frustrated.
Still greedily gulping at Spike’s blood, Angel stretched his hole more forcefully, tugging at the rim a little and then pushing hard against his prostate, making him flinch away before immediately bucking back for more. As he got himself into position, guiding his cock against Spike’s entrance, he pulled his teeth free and then licked up over his shoulder and neck, finally mouthing at his jaw and then seeking out his mouth.
Spike groaned as their lips pressed together, snaking his tongue out to savour the taste of his own blood. He grabbed hold of the metal chains to anchor himself as Angel suddenly fucked hard into him, crying out through clenched teeth at the pain but also spreading his legs wider.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” mumbled Angel against his lips, hands sliding up Spike’s sides and then down his arms to finally cover his fists against the manacles.
Angel began to piston his hips immediately, pounding Spike into the mattress. For his part, Spike just held on for the ride, trying to position himself as best he could to get his prostate nailed. His dick dragged against the mattress with every thrust, the entire bed squeaking and groaning with their fervour.
People always joked about vampire stamina, but the truth of the situation was that neither Spike nor Angel had been getting a whole lot of action recently, and the violence and biting was the best kind of foreplay for them. Besides, they’d never exactly been loving with one another, so there was no need to hold back or draw it out.
Angel shoved his thighs against Spike’s, spreading him wider, both of them groaning at the altered position and the way that it made all the right places tingle.
“Touch me,” moaned Spike, part order and part plea. Angel chuckled and licked over his lips, tantalising him.
“No, come on my dick, just from me fucking you. I know that you can.”
Angel was right that Spike could, although it pissed him off that he had to. Cursing, he canted his hips back, opening himself up even further and improving the angle, letting the momentum of Angel’s thrusts drive him against the bed in hard, dirty grinds. They kissed over his shoulder, all teeth and tongue, and he could feel himself getting fucked closer and closer to the edge.
“Harder,” Spike hissed. God, he was right bloody there, seconds away from spilling over the sheets. He could tell that Angel was right behind him too, grunting and pawing at him, body tensing and flexing as he moved harder and deeper.
“Bossy,” teased Angel against his lips, giving his thigh a sharp slap. It was enough to send Spike hurtling over the edge, pulsing out ropes of come to soak the mattress. The strong scent combined with the delicious squeezing around his cock sent Angel tumbling right after him, cursing as he pumped forward and unloaded deep into Spike’s ass.
For a while, they drifted, Spike too sated to even bother about Angel being a wide-load, or anything else equally annoying.
Eventually, Angel stirred and then lazily fumbled for the keys on the nightstand, his full weight still crushing Spike into the damp mattress. Once he’d freed Spike, he obligingly rolled off so that the blond could flip onto his back, which he did, grumbling and glaring.
“Stop whining,” said Angel with an eye-roll. “I knew how hard you’d get off or I wouldn’t have done it. And now you don’t have to feel guilty for enjoying it.”
It was kinda scary how well Angel knew him – and how comfortable he was with exploiting the nasty, buried desires that Spike still battled with. Perhaps, in a twisted way, Angel had convinced himself that he was doing Spike a favour.
“Was this my Christmas present too?”
Angel smiled a little. “Maybe. I know you miss it too.”
Spike shrugged, wincing as his aching shoulders throbbed. “Sometimes,” he acknowledged. “But the whole point is that we’re not supposed to give in to that side of ourselves anymore. Besides, it’s fighting and fucking I miss, not getting abused by you.”
“Oh, right,” nodded Angel, expression sliding into a self-satisfied smirk. “It’s me that misses that. My bad.”
“You’re such a dick.”
“I am,” Angel agreed. “But you’re wrong that we shouldn’t give in. We should. Sometimes, I think it’s the only thing keeping the people around us safe.”
Spike stared at him, shaking his head slightly. Was it possible that Angel didn’t see the difference between them? Maybe he just didn’t want to.
“The people around you. Beating up the bad guys is enough to keep me on an even keel, so don’t try and foist your psychosis off on me, all right?”
Angel shrugged. “Whatever you say, but getting beaten, tied down and fucked got you off. That’s not normal, any way you cut it.”
Spike looked at him pointedly. “Yeah, I’m aware of that. It wasn’t my choice.”
Angel nodded and patted his cheek sympathetically. “I know. I took that burden away from you. You’re welcome.”
“Jesus Christ, you really are mental, aren’t you?” He rubbed at his abraded wrists, feeling a mild pulse of lust that pissed him off, especially when Angel caught the scent and looked smug. “When are the gang getting back?”
“Few days. Why?”
Spike raised an eyebrow. “Why? Well, let’s see. I suppose I’m wondering when you’re going to have to pretend to be sane again and let me go.”
Angel gently took hold of his chin and looked into his eyes, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to his lips. “They wouldn’t be all that surprised if I told them you took off, you know.”
Spike swallowed hard, a shiver of fear creeping up his spine. He was sure that Angel was just being a dick, freaking him out on purpose – because Lord knew that he’d always loved a good mindfuck. Mostly sure, anyway.
“You’re fucking with me,” he asserted, sounding almost completely confident. “Right?”
Angel patted his cheek and kissed him again, mischief darkening his eyes. “Go to sleep, Spike. You’re gonna need your strength.”