SCRIBES OF ANGEL
Fan Fiction
___________________________________
By
Her Side
by Criss Moody
Date: May 14th, 2001
Disclaimer: Did I write the crappiest excuse for a crossover ever? No? Then I
must not own them.
Spoilers: Through Epiphany (Angel) and Forever (Buffy)
Summary: Angel releases some tension after his night spent comforting Buffy.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Angel/Spike, threads of Angel/Buffy and Buffy/Spike
Feedback: I get crabby without. If you like it, tell me. If you hate it, blame
Donna, it was all her idea.
Notes and Thanks: Donna asked. And begged. And pleaded. Hope this satisfies.
Jess betaed and demanded more out of me than I felt like giving, but did
because I worship her. Rabbit gave a last read through for title help.
======
Hours spent by Buffy’s side, casual, platonic embrace had left Angel exhausted.
So hard to keep his good intentions in mind when her sweet vanilla flesh
surrounded him and he knew that he could get away with anything right then.
Ripping away the boundaries and the clothes to get at her warm, silk skin.
Creamy and endless, and so fucking mortal it hurt to think about it.
So many times he'd bit back, "Buffy, I had an epiphany," or
"Buffy, I've been through so much in the last few months." Not
because he didn't want her to know, but because she didn't care. Not then. Not
at her mother's grave. Buffy needed him to be sweet, gentle Angel. She needed.
And he was there for her, and he held her in his arms, and listened, and comforted
with the most banal of words. Little steps now, into the brighter pained world
of making decisions and standing by them. Look at Buffy more as someone to be
helped, someone to be saved, than true love. Truer and better that way even if
lingering traces of vanilla and grief cling to him.
Angel shook his body hard, as if he could free his skin of her smell that way.
Never free, never unbound from the taste and feel of her, her blood sharing
space and vein with that of hundreds, a favored few. This nasty heat crawling
under his skin...he'd forgotten kissing mortals, he'd forgotten the horrible
warmth and smell that lingered after the human had gone. Reminding him that he
was dead. Wanted desperately to be gone, even though he had an hour 'till the
sun rose.
He'd come close to hating Buffy during the night. For not asking, for being
selfish, for not letting him show off his newfound completeness. "Look at
me, I can be a demon, and a man, and have a soul, and not be Angelus, and not
be a murdering fiend. I finally figured it out." Needed Buffy, impetus of
his birth into the world of fighting the good fight, to be proud of him.
Please, please, admire, see, acknowledge. Not the right place or time, so Angel
let Buffy see only Angel, not the man become the demon who has accepted all
three selves into himself.
Dislodged the twigs and dirt clinging to his black jeans as he walked. Halfway
through the cemetery, he caught a ripe, familiar smell on the air. Rolling
puffs of smoke dirtied the pure black of the sky as they fled over the top of a
headstone. Two steps and a look down revealed a bleached blonde head attached
to a long, slumped body.
"You done with the big strong Angel bit? Thought I was gonna heave,
frankly. How many bloody times do you have to say ‘I’m sorry’? I think the girl
got it after the eigh…."
Angel hauled the peroxided vampire up to eye level, slamming him against the
tree.
"Spike." This could be fun. This could relieve stress. First he’d
kick the crap out of his grandchilde for existing. Then, he’d inquire gently
after why the vamp smelled too much like the Buffy. Or maybe he'd just kick the
crap out of him some more. Excise the Angelus-like urge to fuck Buffy there in
the dirt, watch the horror as she came, right next to where her mother's body
lay rotting beneath the ground. To take, and kill, and arrange the beauty in
crimson swirls of death.
"Yeah, that’d be me. Ain’t you the crackerjack detective?" The blonde
wiggled free and patted out the creases in his leather duster. They stood,
separated by three to four feet of ground and millions of miles of hate and
history.
"How long have you been here?"
"Been here since the bloody funeral, hidin’ in the bushes under a
blanket." Spike dragged a hand through his unruly tresses. The shaking of
the black tipped fingers drew Angel’s eyes. Spike was shaking, terrified or
angry or scared.
"Didn’t anyone ever teach you it’s not nice to eavesdrop?"
Spike didn’t grace that with a response, just a heavy-lidded, long look, before
turning away. His upper body arched as if to walk away, and Angel moved into
grab Spike’s arm. Spike snarled, latched onto Angel’s arm, and threw the big
man toes over head hard into the firm earth.
With a shredded snarl, Spike launched himself at the prone vampire, sending the
two rolling down the small hill behind them. As they reached the bottom, they
both sprang up and began to circle each other. Noses curling, they sniffed the
air, reading the pheromones and adrenaline pumping through the air. Slowly, in
unconscious unison, their human features melted off to reveal the demon.
Angel’s eyes glowed crimson gold in the darkness as he regarded his
grandchilde. Spike had his hands down at his sides, fingers twitching and
dancing. Face vamped, Angel blinked as old features flickered over new, longer,
sable hair where bleached existed now, cocky arrogance superimposed on learned
sneer.
With a roar, Angel charged, catching Spike in the chest. Their arms gripped
each other in a mock embrace, grappling for supremacy. Didn’t want to remember
days when he liked the cocky arrogance. When he liked fucking the witty words
right out of his pretty little mouth until Will just whimpered. Being deep in
that boy’s ass had been like a trip to nirvana while smoking acid. Pure
mind-tripping pleasure.
Angel was starting to feel like going on a trip down memory lane.
"Boy, you never did know your place."
"My place?? My fucking place is fucking nowhere thanks to you and Dru and
a stupid chip." High hiss on the chip, and Spike started to lose his grip
on Angel. The older vampire took advantage of the moment to throw Spike to the
ground and straddle him. Rolled his hips against him, and grinned when Spike's
hips rose up to meet his.
"Spike, I'd forgotten how fucking easy you are."
With a flick of his hips and body weight, Spike flipped them over to straddle
his grandsire.
"Easy? I'll show you bloody easy." Took both hands and ripped the
silk shirt off Angel's chest, revealing the creamy expanse of cold skin. Bone
white rising to two persimmon red nipples, hardened to tiny points. Ripped his
own black tee off before gripping Angel's wrists and lowering himself in. Their
teeth clashed and clacked, blood running down Angel's face as teeth nipped and
fangs sliced at tender flesh. Lips rubbed against lips as Spike attacked
Angel's mouth, as if he could eat the words he didn't like straight off the
tongue and make them disappear.
For the briefest of moments, Angel felt safe. Consumed in the embrace of this
violent creature he'd helped form, he wasn't obligated to be nice. Or friendly.
Or anything but a fuck hungry vampire. Too soon, bored by the repetitive anger
Spike threw out like an electric net, Angel grew restless under the oral
assault. He reared up under Spike and threw the blonde off to one side. Quickly
came down on knee next to Spike. Paused to look at the results. Of kissing. Of
being chipped.
He was so damn beautiful when he hurt. Poor little Spike, forced to rely on the
humans. Damn funny, Angel had to admit. At least he didn't have a soul. But
which was worse? Electric or spiritual leash? Angel bent, and placed a false
soft kiss on Spike's ruby red lips before raising his fist high and ramming it
into Spike's stomach. Gloried in the gasp from those blood stained lips and remembered
days of beating the 'God' out of William the not yet Bloody. Must be why Angel
felt so much like worshipping as his fists made repeated contact with Spike's
torso. Again and again, tenderizing the flesh, sweet purple bruises that would
not last long, but would be a beauty mark for a moment.
"You. Fucking. Done. Yet. Peaches?" Each word punctuated by a grunt.
Angel ceased beating on Spike and straddled the younger vampire again.
"Mmmmm….let me think." Angel rubbed his chin with a spare hand,
holding Spike's wrists in the other. Took a sweaty finger, dragged it down
Spike’s chest, and the blonde hissed as he watched it approach his groin. Angel
yanked the front panel off of Spike’s ubiquitous black jeans, and in one swift
move had Spike’s cock firmly in his grasp. Sighed happily at the dolphin firm,
cold feel to the squirming member. No annoyingly warm mortal here. Dead, just
like Angel. Blood, just like Darla, but without the accompanying ‘uh, sorry I
killed you once’ angst. Angst, yes, but that subsided under an overwhelming
need to fuck. Now.
"Mmm, no, not done." Unfastened his own slacks, freeing his turgid
erection. Hissed at the feel of his hand on the foreskin. Kissed Spike again,
delicately licking the thin lips free of blood and spittle. Angel read arousal
and fierce denial in the baby blues blinking up at him. So hard, some times, to
see Spike and not William. Blundering newborn begging for help from his elders.
Arching, rising mounds of pale, pale flesh. Please, don't, dear God, stop, it…it
hurts, don't you hear me? But Angelus heard, and loved, and fucked William
until the new vampire learned to swallow down his poet's soul and fight
arrogance with brattiness.
Angel sucked two of his fingers into his mouth, watched Spike watch his movements,
ridiculous trepidation floating across those easy to read eyes. Ridiculous
because this wasn't anything that hadn't happened before. A few years, a few
hundred, but Spike knew the punishing, erotic hard taste of his grandsire's
cock as well as the blonde knew the taste of Dru's cunt. Familiar, family. What
was me was you is us.
Raised Spike's hips up to straddle his, and Angel knelt between the younger
vampire's jean clad legs. Almost drooled at the sight of the veined, purple
cock. Spike wasn't thick, but he was long, arching slightly at the tip. Angel
took his saliva saturated fingers and plunged them into Spike's defenseless
ass. Grinned at the howl of protest from Spike that quickly became mewls of
frustrated pleasure. Withdrew the fingers, slapped Spike hard across the face
when the vampire opened his mouth to speak, and raised himself and Spike's legs
up. Snug up to the pale body before him, and Angel gripped Spike's hip as he
slid in.
Tight, cold, sparkles of frigid pleasure danced up and down Angel's spine. He
almost forgot to move as his cock swelled and pulsed inside the plush, firm
grip of Spike's body. Began to pump, slow, so slow that Angel's cock almost
fell out on each thrust. Angel's eyes slid shut as he concentrated on the
feelings, dancing out into color behind his eyelids. Cascades of gold and
orange, silver sparkles, like tiny snowflakes encased in precious metal. Taste
of cock and ass blooming on his tongue as if he'd been doing things he hadn't
done since he'd been human. But, to be honest, the temperature felt the best.
Their body temperatures stayed at the same, ambient temperature, and Angel
nearly cooed as his cock again and again disappeared between Spike's muscular
globes.
Rasping ache as he moved faster, created an empty heat from the friction.
Angel's low-hanging balls slapped, smackidysmack, against Spike's ass as the
big vampire angled over and drove himself home. Listened to Spike's keening
wail as the younger vampire's cock jumped and throbbed between their bodies, bouncing
against the occasional stomach. Angel lowered his body and slowed his thrusts,
careful to keep arched just enough to prevent Spike from rubbing his cock
between their stomachs.
"What? You want to come?" Angel lazily thrust, rubbing a hand down
Spike's thigh.
"Fuck. Yes." Teeth clenched, hair wild, mussed, rich black earth
threading through the silken blonde.
"Spike, my boy, I don't think I'm feeling generous tonight." Angel
raised up, and thrust deep, hard, bruising flesh. Savored the wonderful cool of
Spike's ass for a brief second before letting his release happen, shuddering
cold, useless seed into Spike's body. Watched as the bubbling white foam rushed
out past his softening cock before dripping around the blonde's buttocks and
into the ground. Angel withdrew, stood, his cock swaying drunkenly in the
breeze.
"I don't have to say that it's been fun. But, while I've got you
here," hand suddenly clutching at Spike's throat, fingers threatening to
rip his grandechilde's throat out, "hurt her. You die. Get it?"
Angel released his hold and stood back, eyes surveying the damage done to his
clothing. Good thing he'd brought a few extra things…in case. Always be
prepared, or at least that's what Cordelia had chirped as she thrust the
suitcase into the trunk. Felt…calmer now, Angelus again relegated to an stage
in his evolution as a being of the light. As Angel prepared to walk away,
already deciding to wear the soft gray chinos and the coal black cotton
pullover, Spike spoke.
"Yeah, go ahead. Fuck and run. But ya know what?"
Angel looked back, scathing remark on his full lips. Saw Spike laid out, legs
spread, fist closed on his cock, jerking hard on the denied thickness. Spike's
eyes rolled back into his head as he came, shooting ropes of come over his
chest, the ground beneath him. As Spike sucked his fingers free of come, he
managed to plant one burr under Angel's recovered sanity.
"You're in L.A. And I'm. Right. By. Her. Side."
~end~