The Things That Matter
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,674
Reviews:
3
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Angel(us)/Spike(William)
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
2,674
Reviews:
3
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.
The Things That Matter
Disclaimer: I own nothing, all characters belong to Joss, ME, Grr Argh, all the other producers and such.
Distribution: The ficathon, my site, and the groups that I post this to. If you want it, ask.
***
“Aaaah!”
It didn’t matter that Spike’s scream of pleasure would probably make the night janitors wonder what kind of wild beasts were mating in Angel’s office. It didn’t matter that the coffee table had no chance being repaired. It didn’t matter that he currently had Spike bent over his office desk and was thrusting into him with a wild abandon that he hadn’t let free since that last night before Darla had whisked him away from his lovely boy. All that mattered was the fact that they were here, now.
At this moment, it didn’t matter that Fred was dead and was never coming back. It didn’t matter that the *thing* currently living in her body hated them all and was counting the things that they owed it. And it didn’t matter that Illyria had once ruled the world and made things like them cower at its feet.
It didn’t matter that Wes had officially gone *completely* insane and that they would probably never get him back on his rocker. It didn’t matter that Wes now remembered how he had stolen Conor and why he had that scar on his neck. And it didn’t matter that they would never be friends again.
It didn’t matter that Gunn’s *gift* had led to the death of Fred. It didn’t matter that Gunn had spent weeks down in some hell dimension getting his heart cut out and shown to him by some demon. And it didn’t matter that Gunn was right about how bad he was handling things and that he was probably fucking them all over.
“Yeah, right there. Oh fuck yes!”
“Spike!”
“Oh yeah, come on Angel. Harder! Yeah, slam me into the desk; make it splinter.”
It didn’t matter that Lorne wasn’t really even a part of the team any more and that you were more likely to find him drinking a Sea Breeze, than actually being helpful. It didn’t matter that Lorne was just putting a fake face to hide the drunken ball of pain that he had become. And it didn’t matter that he could see right through Lorne’s facade and wasn’t doing a damn thing about it.
It didn’t matter that there was an apocalypse coming and they had no idea how to stop it; or the little fact that they were fighting for the wrong team. It didn’t matter that Cordy was gone and that Buffy was fucking The Immortal. And it didn’t matter that everything he seemed to try to do lately fell to pieces right in front of him.
All that mattered was that he was buried deep inside Spike’s slick, tight ass. As he grabbed Spike’s hips hard enough to leave bruises and set a pace that would make a mortal man scream in pain. As he bit into the back of Spike’s shoulder and tasted blood that he hadn’t tasted in more than a century and hearing Spike roar his release as he did so. He could feel Spike’s muscles contracting around him as it worked with the coppery taste of Spike’s blood to bring him over the edge. He threw his head back, demon face in place, and roared as he came inside Spike.
All that mattered was that Spike was here, with him. That he was were he belonged again for the first time in more than a hundred years. Where he could escape from his problems for even an hour and know that the inhumanly gorgeous man underneath him was doing the same damn thing. All that mattered was that he had his lover back once and for all and that he wasn’t letting him go for the world.
Distribution: The ficathon, my site, and the groups that I post this to. If you want it, ask.
***
“Aaaah!”
It didn’t matter that Spike’s scream of pleasure would probably make the night janitors wonder what kind of wild beasts were mating in Angel’s office. It didn’t matter that the coffee table had no chance being repaired. It didn’t matter that he currently had Spike bent over his office desk and was thrusting into him with a wild abandon that he hadn’t let free since that last night before Darla had whisked him away from his lovely boy. All that mattered was the fact that they were here, now.
At this moment, it didn’t matter that Fred was dead and was never coming back. It didn’t matter that the *thing* currently living in her body hated them all and was counting the things that they owed it. And it didn’t matter that Illyria had once ruled the world and made things like them cower at its feet.
It didn’t matter that Wes had officially gone *completely* insane and that they would probably never get him back on his rocker. It didn’t matter that Wes now remembered how he had stolen Conor and why he had that scar on his neck. And it didn’t matter that they would never be friends again.
It didn’t matter that Gunn’s *gift* had led to the death of Fred. It didn’t matter that Gunn had spent weeks down in some hell dimension getting his heart cut out and shown to him by some demon. And it didn’t matter that Gunn was right about how bad he was handling things and that he was probably fucking them all over.
“Yeah, right there. Oh fuck yes!”
“Spike!”
“Oh yeah, come on Angel. Harder! Yeah, slam me into the desk; make it splinter.”
It didn’t matter that Lorne wasn’t really even a part of the team any more and that you were more likely to find him drinking a Sea Breeze, than actually being helpful. It didn’t matter that Lorne was just putting a fake face to hide the drunken ball of pain that he had become. And it didn’t matter that he could see right through Lorne’s facade and wasn’t doing a damn thing about it.
It didn’t matter that there was an apocalypse coming and they had no idea how to stop it; or the little fact that they were fighting for the wrong team. It didn’t matter that Cordy was gone and that Buffy was fucking The Immortal. And it didn’t matter that everything he seemed to try to do lately fell to pieces right in front of him.
All that mattered was that he was buried deep inside Spike’s slick, tight ass. As he grabbed Spike’s hips hard enough to leave bruises and set a pace that would make a mortal man scream in pain. As he bit into the back of Spike’s shoulder and tasted blood that he hadn’t tasted in more than a century and hearing Spike roar his release as he did so. He could feel Spike’s muscles contracting around him as it worked with the coppery taste of Spike’s blood to bring him over the edge. He threw his head back, demon face in place, and roared as he came inside Spike.
All that mattered was that Spike was here, with him. That he was were he belonged again for the first time in more than a hundred years. Where he could escape from his problems for even an hour and know that the inhumanly gorgeous man underneath him was doing the same damn thing. All that mattered was that he had his lover back once and for all and that he wasn’t letting him go for the world.