The Beads of Jupiter
folder
Angel the Series › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
3,118
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Angel the Series › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
3,118
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Angel: The Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Fifteen Candles on Soaked Rabbit
Spike had learned about taking punishment as well as dealing it at the hands of those he loved, so he started off by decorating Angel’s hair with thumbtacks.
“You know how I feel about you, Angel,“ he whispered, sneaking a hand down Angel’s shirt to run his fingers over the older vampire’s broad, powerful chest. “I learned to hear the calls of dock workers at your request. There is nothing I would not do for the sake of intervention.”
“That’s sweet, Spike,” Willow said. She was across the room watching, and she left after the interlude.
“I am leaving now,” Angel said, rising, pulling his shirt together and revealing a new blouse of his. “You have sent my mind into terrible, terrible places.”
“Was it me?” Spike asked sadly. But upon receiving a silent stare and no gratifying responses, he gave up.
Eight years passed. Eight long years in which Angel sat in Samaria and learned about various rainforest techniques. When he finally turned, Spike had been elected President of NAFTA, so he had to wait until that expired before approaching him with his proposal.
“I think we should construct a bridge together,” he suggested.
“No, I will not construct a bridge with you,” Spike replied.
TO BE CONTINUED…
“You know how I feel about you, Angel,“ he whispered, sneaking a hand down Angel’s shirt to run his fingers over the older vampire’s broad, powerful chest. “I learned to hear the calls of dock workers at your request. There is nothing I would not do for the sake of intervention.”
“That’s sweet, Spike,” Willow said. She was across the room watching, and she left after the interlude.
“I am leaving now,” Angel said, rising, pulling his shirt together and revealing a new blouse of his. “You have sent my mind into terrible, terrible places.”
“Was it me?” Spike asked sadly. But upon receiving a silent stare and no gratifying responses, he gave up.
Eight years passed. Eight long years in which Angel sat in Samaria and learned about various rainforest techniques. When he finally turned, Spike had been elected President of NAFTA, so he had to wait until that expired before approaching him with his proposal.
“I think we should construct a bridge together,” he suggested.
“No, I will not construct a bridge with you,” Spike replied.
TO BE CONTINUED…