The Way We Were
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
6,646
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
6
Views:
6,646
Reviews:
12
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 4
Disclaimer: I own no rights and make no claim or money from the characters depicted herein
from in BtvsAtS or its entities. This is for entertainment only.
Feedback is always welcomed.
Previous chapters here:
http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=kindredspirit75&keyword=THE+WAY+WE+WERE&filter=all
THE WAY WE WERE - Chapter 4
After being apprised of Spike’s condition by the T’pau demon and a look at his medical chart, Angel had gone to the locked cabinet in his living room where he kept his last bottle of Midleton. He looked sadly at the two-hundred year old bottle of Irish whiskey and poured himself a stiff one, downing it in one, big gulp.
That first drink had led to another, then another, until the big vampire found himself sitting in an uncomfortable wooden chair next to Spike’s bed with the last of the whiskey he had been saving for a special occasion. Not that there was anything ‘special’ about sitting next to his useless childe and wondering when they had drifted apart.
Even though Spike's azure eyes were open and dead, he had been aware of his surroundings ever since his fever broke at the infirmiry at W&H. The Selminth's poison had paralyzed all of his muscles, but he could still feel, still think, and that's how he knew that they had sent him home to Angel to die, a hopeless case. He knew that Angel had finally realized that he was dying and he was grateful that the big vampire had found some courage at the bottom of a bottle; that's why he was now sitting beside his bed, mumbling incoherently about ‘the way we were.’
Bloody ponce, Spike thought, before another wave of nausea from the smell of Angel’s breath mixed with the hospital stink of the room threatened to overtake him. The small vampire wanted to vomit, if only he could, because the ineffective otter blood that they were pumping into his stomach every twelve hours, mixed with the stench, was too much to bear. He wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything besides lay unmoving and voiceless until he finally died.
“Aye, me Boyo,” Angel slurred. “Them’s were the days.”
He took another sip of alcohol and looked at Spike over the top of his glass with bleary eyes.
“What happened to us, Will? You were my pride and joy... now, look at you... layin’ there without a care in the world. You’re worthless, Spike... know that? And, know what else?” Angel smiled, a drunken smirk sliding across his lips. “You’re my childe. Pfft! My childe,” he laughed softly. “My worthless, useless, dying childe...”
Spike silently cursed Angel because of his cruel words and wished he could have told him how wrong he was, that he was not useless. Never mind that he was in his present predicament because he had tried to protect his colleagues from injury or death... that he was protecting his humans... his friends, from danger by throwing himself at a poisonous beast.
He knew Angel could never understand that... that he had friends... friends he would die for. There was a lot that Angel never knew about him, never bothered to find out. Sure, relations had been strained between the two of them ever since he had materialized from the amulet... after he had died saving the world, but he didn’t think his sire really hated him. Not like this...
Another burning pang in his gut signaled the onslaught of more muscle cramps, but he couldn’t cry out from his frozen vocal cords. The pains were coming closer together now and Spike hoped beyond hope that the venom would finally do its worst and let him die. Suddenly, without warning, a small twitch started in his left hand.
Angel groaned and used one meaty hand to shift the uncomfortable bulge that was growing in his pants. The memories of William were playing havoc with his libido and in his drunken state, it was easy to give in. He looked at Spike laying so still on the crisp sheets in front of him, the pale skin stretched painfully over protruding bones. The cheeks were much more pronounced now than they had ever been, more hollow and sharper because of Spike’s inability to feed.
The blond vampire looked so small with the whitest sheets that Angel had ever seen tucked around his frail body. Spike would always breathe, even though it was unnecessary, but he was not breathing now. He was so still... so cold... so... dead.
An unwanted tear rolled down Angel’s cheek and a twinge of guilt suddenly filled his undead heart at the thought of not having Spike around to annoy the hell out of him. They had too much history, the both of them, to let it slip away. He couldn’t let his boy die, but he didn’t know how to fix him, so he did the only thing he could think of.
Angel got up from his chair and crawled clumsily onto Spike’s bed and gathered up the small vampire into his arms. His needy childe had always craved his sire’s touch, be it a kiss or a light brush of skin against skin in passing, and it would calm him, just knowing that he was wanted.
Angelus sat tranquilly in a comfortable leather chair soaking up the heat from the blaze that was roaring in the mansion’s huge fireplace. A heavy crystal glass holding the last of the house’s finest Irish whiskey sat beside him on a small table as he watched William lay on a rug in front of the hearth reading the latest book by Oscar Wilde.
Soft shadows danced over his childe’s alabaster skin and Angelus was mesmerized by the slow rise and fall of William’s chest as he took measured, unnecessary breaths. His shirt had fallen open to reveal a delightful view while he was propped up on his elbows and Angelus grew hard at the sight.
The big vampire swallowed the last of his drink, then slid from his chair onto his knees in front of William so he could see the bulge in his pants.
William continued to read, even though he knew why Angelus was kneeling in front of him. If the protuberance in his sire’s pants didn’t tip him off, the smell of his arousal certainly did. Angelus cleared his throat noisily.
“What?” William blushed and tried to look coy over his wire-rimmed glasses.
Angelus didn’t say a word to William; he just reached down and pulled the small man onto his lap and supported his weight by cupping his firm ass in his big hands. He loved it when he could pull a gasp from William’s lips and was not disappointed as he covered his mouth and swallowed his breath.
William wrapped his legs around the thick body and moaned into Angelus’ mouth as he was guided by the firm hands on his hips to grind down and bounce on the swollen cock under him. There was no time to strip themselves as their need for each other outweighed any thought of doing so as the two moaned and gasped and moved together as one.
William’s smaller hands supported him as he dug his fingernails into broad shoulders and his lips never stopped giving kisses as he rode Angelus hard and fast. They were so in sync with each other, bound by the blood and their love, that one would never cum without the other, and so it was now as William threw his head back to give Angelus free access to his throat.
“Mine!” Angelus roared as he bucked up hard against William and sank his fangs into his throat, cumming as the taste of his beloved childe filled his mouth.
“Yours Sire!” William screamed as he pressed his groin down hard against Angelus and he, too, came after sinking his fangs into the proffered throat.
Angel moaned and rubbed himself harder against Spike’s limp body even though he knew it was wrong. Every muscle in his body ached, his skin tingled and his demon screamed behind his eyes to take Spike and devour him.
Angel had tried mightily to deny his feelings for Spike in the past, but the sire/childe bond was always there. Periodically, it would exact such force to renew the claim, that he would tear his own wrist open to lap at the blood while he masturbated. He wanted, needed, to renew that claim again...
“Fuck! Will... gonna...” Angel closed his eyes and groaned as he bit down hard into his wrist and came in his jeans.
Spike gasped and let out a low moan as he, too, came unawares in the sheets.
Angel’s eyes snapped open in shock when he heard Spike moan and without thinking, he shoved his bleeding wrist against Spike’s lips.
“Drink, Will... please... sorry... so sorry...”
~ tbc~
from in BtvsAtS or its entities. This is for entertainment only.
Feedback is always welcomed.
Previous chapters here:
http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=kindredspirit75&keyword=THE+WAY+WE+WERE&filter=all
THE WAY WE WERE - Chapter 4
After being apprised of Spike’s condition by the T’pau demon and a look at his medical chart, Angel had gone to the locked cabinet in his living room where he kept his last bottle of Midleton. He looked sadly at the two-hundred year old bottle of Irish whiskey and poured himself a stiff one, downing it in one, big gulp.
That first drink had led to another, then another, until the big vampire found himself sitting in an uncomfortable wooden chair next to Spike’s bed with the last of the whiskey he had been saving for a special occasion. Not that there was anything ‘special’ about sitting next to his useless childe and wondering when they had drifted apart.
Even though Spike's azure eyes were open and dead, he had been aware of his surroundings ever since his fever broke at the infirmiry at W&H. The Selminth's poison had paralyzed all of his muscles, but he could still feel, still think, and that's how he knew that they had sent him home to Angel to die, a hopeless case. He knew that Angel had finally realized that he was dying and he was grateful that the big vampire had found some courage at the bottom of a bottle; that's why he was now sitting beside his bed, mumbling incoherently about ‘the way we were.’
Bloody ponce, Spike thought, before another wave of nausea from the smell of Angel’s breath mixed with the hospital stink of the room threatened to overtake him. The small vampire wanted to vomit, if only he could, because the ineffective otter blood that they were pumping into his stomach every twelve hours, mixed with the stench, was too much to bear. He wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything besides lay unmoving and voiceless until he finally died.
“Aye, me Boyo,” Angel slurred. “Them’s were the days.”
He took another sip of alcohol and looked at Spike over the top of his glass with bleary eyes.
“What happened to us, Will? You were my pride and joy... now, look at you... layin’ there without a care in the world. You’re worthless, Spike... know that? And, know what else?” Angel smiled, a drunken smirk sliding across his lips. “You’re my childe. Pfft! My childe,” he laughed softly. “My worthless, useless, dying childe...”
Spike silently cursed Angel because of his cruel words and wished he could have told him how wrong he was, that he was not useless. Never mind that he was in his present predicament because he had tried to protect his colleagues from injury or death... that he was protecting his humans... his friends, from danger by throwing himself at a poisonous beast.
He knew Angel could never understand that... that he had friends... friends he would die for. There was a lot that Angel never knew about him, never bothered to find out. Sure, relations had been strained between the two of them ever since he had materialized from the amulet... after he had died saving the world, but he didn’t think his sire really hated him. Not like this...
Another burning pang in his gut signaled the onslaught of more muscle cramps, but he couldn’t cry out from his frozen vocal cords. The pains were coming closer together now and Spike hoped beyond hope that the venom would finally do its worst and let him die. Suddenly, without warning, a small twitch started in his left hand.
Angel groaned and used one meaty hand to shift the uncomfortable bulge that was growing in his pants. The memories of William were playing havoc with his libido and in his drunken state, it was easy to give in. He looked at Spike laying so still on the crisp sheets in front of him, the pale skin stretched painfully over protruding bones. The cheeks were much more pronounced now than they had ever been, more hollow and sharper because of Spike’s inability to feed.
The blond vampire looked so small with the whitest sheets that Angel had ever seen tucked around his frail body. Spike would always breathe, even though it was unnecessary, but he was not breathing now. He was so still... so cold... so... dead.
An unwanted tear rolled down Angel’s cheek and a twinge of guilt suddenly filled his undead heart at the thought of not having Spike around to annoy the hell out of him. They had too much history, the both of them, to let it slip away. He couldn’t let his boy die, but he didn’t know how to fix him, so he did the only thing he could think of.
Angel got up from his chair and crawled clumsily onto Spike’s bed and gathered up the small vampire into his arms. His needy childe had always craved his sire’s touch, be it a kiss or a light brush of skin against skin in passing, and it would calm him, just knowing that he was wanted.
Angelus sat tranquilly in a comfortable leather chair soaking up the heat from the blaze that was roaring in the mansion’s huge fireplace. A heavy crystal glass holding the last of the house’s finest Irish whiskey sat beside him on a small table as he watched William lay on a rug in front of the hearth reading the latest book by Oscar Wilde.
Soft shadows danced over his childe’s alabaster skin and Angelus was mesmerized by the slow rise and fall of William’s chest as he took measured, unnecessary breaths. His shirt had fallen open to reveal a delightful view while he was propped up on his elbows and Angelus grew hard at the sight.
The big vampire swallowed the last of his drink, then slid from his chair onto his knees in front of William so he could see the bulge in his pants.
William continued to read, even though he knew why Angelus was kneeling in front of him. If the protuberance in his sire’s pants didn’t tip him off, the smell of his arousal certainly did. Angelus cleared his throat noisily.
“What?” William blushed and tried to look coy over his wire-rimmed glasses.
Angelus didn’t say a word to William; he just reached down and pulled the small man onto his lap and supported his weight by cupping his firm ass in his big hands. He loved it when he could pull a gasp from William’s lips and was not disappointed as he covered his mouth and swallowed his breath.
William wrapped his legs around the thick body and moaned into Angelus’ mouth as he was guided by the firm hands on his hips to grind down and bounce on the swollen cock under him. There was no time to strip themselves as their need for each other outweighed any thought of doing so as the two moaned and gasped and moved together as one.
William’s smaller hands supported him as he dug his fingernails into broad shoulders and his lips never stopped giving kisses as he rode Angelus hard and fast. They were so in sync with each other, bound by the blood and their love, that one would never cum without the other, and so it was now as William threw his head back to give Angelus free access to his throat.
“Mine!” Angelus roared as he bucked up hard against William and sank his fangs into his throat, cumming as the taste of his beloved childe filled his mouth.
“Yours Sire!” William screamed as he pressed his groin down hard against Angelus and he, too, came after sinking his fangs into the proffered throat.
Angel moaned and rubbed himself harder against Spike’s limp body even though he knew it was wrong. Every muscle in his body ached, his skin tingled and his demon screamed behind his eyes to take Spike and devour him.
Angel had tried mightily to deny his feelings for Spike in the past, but the sire/childe bond was always there. Periodically, it would exact such force to renew the claim, that he would tear his own wrist open to lap at the blood while he masturbated. He wanted, needed, to renew that claim again...
“Fuck! Will... gonna...” Angel closed his eyes and groaned as he bit down hard into his wrist and came in his jeans.
Spike gasped and let out a low moan as he, too, came unawares in the sheets.
Angel’s eyes snapped open in shock when he heard Spike moan and without thinking, he shoved his bleeding wrist against Spike’s lips.
“Drink, Will... please... sorry... so sorry...”
~ tbc~