RockStarPeach

Wow.  It feels like I haven't written anything in a really long time.  But here's a sequel to a story a wrote a while back called, Two Guys Walk Into a Bar.  It was a Spike/Wesley, and there were some people that wanted to see a sequel that showed how Angel dealt with Spike.  And no, I haven't forgotten about Angel and Wes :)  Sorry, Zoe.  No spanking!

Title:  Ouch

Pairings:  Angel/Spike

Rating:  Adult

Summary:  Sequel to Two Guys Walk Into a Bar.  Angel knows about what happened between Spike and Wesley and deals with Spike.  You don't have to read that, though it helps.  Just know that Spike and Wes met up and went home together in the previous part.

 

Banner by the incredibly sweet and talented mwrgana  Thank you honey!!

 

It had been two weeks.  And in those two weeks he hadn’t been able to think of much else.  Sure, Darla was an incredible distraction, but his mind hadn’t entirely been in that game, and in order to get it there, Angel had decided that he needed a little bit of closure on an irritatingly more preoccupying situation.

 

He parked his car on the road next to the cemetery, not entirely concerned with traffic tickets, because getting to where he was going, and fast, was the only thing he could manage to be concerned with at the moment.  Besides, he wasn’t likely to pay them anyway.

 

The walk across the damp grass was shorter than he remembered, but he wasn’t stopping to make out with Buffy or fight vampires every few meters, like he had been back when he’d lived in Sunnydale, so that probably helped.  This time he had a destination, a mission, and he was damned determined to see it out.

 

He reached the crypt quickly, not bothering to quiet his footsteps as he approached, and spared a moment to hope that Giles had given him the right information before he kicked out as hard as he could with his right leg, and watched the solid door flap satisfactorily with the momentum of the blow.

 

***

 

Spike heard the loud CRACK of the door bursting open behind him, and he would have been concerned, he really would have, if not for the fact that despite the chip, he was able to hurt demons as well as he ever could, and he didn’t hear a heartbeat.  Hadn’t been able to hear one since he’d first heard the footsteps getting ever closer to his front door.  Also, he was watching a very important episode of Dawson’s Creek, and he didn’t want to miss the three seconds of Pacey mooning over his latest fling that turning his head would require.

 

The clomping footsteps proceeded down his stairs, and before they’d gotten two steps in the wind changed and blew a nice waft through the entrance and past Spike’s nose.  Angel.  Well.  That was something.  Something he could have easily done without, but something that could be interesting, depending on what the git wanted. 

 

He tried to hide the smile that wanted to break out on his face when he thought about any of the reasons that Angel might be here, and any of the things that might happen as a result.  He stood up from his chair and slowly turned around, taking a breath to speak, but before he could even think of an appropriate insult, Angel’s fist was connecting solidly with his nose.  It wasn’t too hard not to hide his smile after that, much to Angel’s chagrin.

 

“Nice to see you too, pops,” Spike said, stepping back a little with the force of the punch.  He wiped his nose with his left arm, tasting the blood on his top lip with his tongue.

 

“Did you really think I’d let you get away with this?” Angel asked, stepping closer again and darting his arm out to grab Spike by the throat.  He squeezed hard enough that speech was difficult, but not impossible, and let himself grin broadly on the inside when the smaller vampire struggled briefly for freedom.

 

Spike’s right hand covered Angel’s as he clawed at the strong fingers gripping him, but his hand stilled very quickly once he realised he wasn’t going anywhere unless Angel wanted him to.  Or until he could get him to relax enough that Spike could break free.  “The bloody… hell… you talking about?” Spike wheezed out through his crushed windpipe.

 

Just about everything he ever did pissed someone off, somehow.  Usually it was a very many people in a very many ways.  So he was hoping to be able to at least narrow it down some before he admitted to something that Angel didn’t even know about yet.

 

Angel shook him, once.  Hard.  “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Spike,” he ground out.  “You come near any of my people, there are gonna be consequences.”  He shoved Spike back, letting the smaller vampire slip from his grasp and thoroughly enjoyed the way he stumbled over himself, bumping into the chair he’d been sitting on and falling backwards.

 

Spike pushed himself up and ran a soothing hand over his neck, trying to calm the bruise that he knew was already forming.  But he sneered as he stood, and ran a very suggestive tongue across his top teeth before letting one hand slide slowly down chest and belly to land over his pelvis, thumb hooking under the waist of his jeans.

 

“So, the watcher told you, did he?” Spike asked, and felt a mild thrill when he noticed Angel clench his fists, ready to strike.  “Gotta say, I’m a bit shocked.  Didn’t peg him as the ‘run to daddy’ type.”

 

“He didn’t need to tell me,” Angel growled, ignoring the tiny flare of lust that that crept into him at the idea of being called Wesley’s ‘daddy’.  “Your scent was all over him.”

 

Spike puffed himself up a bit at that, absurdly proud that his mark had lasted long enough to piss Angel off, and said, “Not surprised, what with all the things we did to get my ‘scent’ all over him.”  He had never been one to keep his mouth shut when opening it could cause so much delicious trouble, and this time was no exception to that rule.

 

Before he could follow the taunt up with a carefully placed hand to his hardening dick he was flat on his back, head smacking against the thin area rug covering the hard concrete floor, with Angel on top of him, one arm pinning his chest to the ground, the other pulled back to deliver a swift jab to Spike’s left eye.

 

“Don’t fuck with me Spike,” Angel warned.  He wasn’t in the mood for the blond’s shit today.  He was pissed off enough as it was, and had too much going on to be interested in the stupid-ass games Spike liked to get off on.

 

“That’s not what he said,” Spike taunted, and his laugh at Angel’s roar turned into a cry of pain as Angel twisted his arms painfully over his head and stared down into his face with yellowed eyes.

 

“I’m warning you, boy,” Angel almost whispered.  “This is going to be a lot easier for you if you shut the hell up.”

 

Spike had never been one to do things the easy way.  “What’s the matter Angel?” he asked with mock concern.  “Are your big, manly feelings all hurt because your little boyfriend came to me for a good seeing to?  Can hardly blame the bloke for stepping out.  I mean, come on.  Look at me.”

 

Angel’s fingers tightened and he pulled harder on Spike’s arms, almost dislocating both of his shoulders.  “He’s not my boyfriend,” Angel hissed, and they both noticed that he hadn’t denied that his feelings had been hurt.

 

“He’s not?” Spike asked, voice full of pain and false innocence.  “Damn.  If I’d known he was available I’d have been back every night since.  The boy is really something, Angel.  I’m telling you, the way he squirmed, the way he begged…  oomph!”

 

He was abruptly cut off when Angel rammed his fist into his stomach, knocking the air from his lungs.  “Shut up!” Angel demanded, and found it extremely hard not to twist Spike’s head off right then and there.  How dare the fucker sleep with one of his people, with Wesley, and rub his nose in it like this?  It really was typical Spike taken to the next level.

 

“What’s the matter Angel?  If he’s not your boyfriend, why do you care if I gave him a right good cliffing?  And what’s with the jealous lover act?  You never seemed to mind sharing before.”

 

“I’m not…” Angel started and pushed off Spike, letting his arms go and sitting up, still straddling his waist.  “Argh!  I’m not jealous!”

 

Spike resisted the urge to roll his eyes, because it was very obvious that that’s exactly what Angel was, but he needed a few seconds between blows if this was going to be fun and not just a giant truckload of pain.

 

“I’m concerned.  One of my people.  With a vampire.  With you.  You could have killed him.  I’m surprised you didn’t.”

 

“Oh, tell me another one,” Spike said, and did roll his eyes that time.  “You know I’ve got the bloody chip, Angel, and I can’t hurt a sodding puppy dog, let alone your precious watcher.  So don’t try to pretend this about your ‘concern’ for his safety.”

 

Angel had been able to fool himself on many occasions.  Did it almost daily, and it seemed like he’d done a good job of fooling himself where his relationship with Wesley was concerned, because he was well aware that the man had a mild case of hero worship when it came to Angel, but he’d managed to convince himself that that’s all it was, and that he didn’t feel anything in return besides an intense fondness and protectiveness.

 

He did a very good job of fooling himself, most of the time, but he hadn’t really ever been able to fool Spike.  Maybe the irritating son of a bitch had a point.  Maybe there was more to it than his being worried about a friend, but there was no way in hell he was giving Spike the satisfaction of his admitting that, and there was no way in hell he was going to let himself think about it.  Not now, anyway.

 

“He’s one of mine.  If I’m fucking him or not, Spike,” Angel said, “He’s mine.  They all are, and you had better stay the hell away from them.”  Especially Wesley, he thought to himself, but didn’t say.

 

“You crossed a line, Spike.  Taking what’s mine,” Angel told him, reaching a hand out to run his fingers gently across Spike’s forehead and down his cheek before he drew back and delivered a powerful backhand across Spike’s mouth, catching his lip on a sharp tooth and watching a pool of blood gather in the crack between his lips.  “You really pissed me off.”

 

“Why do you think I did it?” the blond spat out, blood joining the words to splatter prettily on the ground.

 

“You’re like a little kid, aren’t you, Spike?”  Angel asked him.  “Constantly trying to get on daddy’s nerves, just to get noticed.  Well, congratulations!  Daddy’s noticed you.”  His voice was deadly, dangerous and low, and he shocked even himself a little with how fierce he was feeling.  No matter what Spike did to get under his skin, Angel had never let it get to him like this, and he and Spike had always played it off like it was a game.  He hoped he wouldn’t let himself take it much more seriously this time, but he couldn’t deny it felt different.  Like a personal insult and not just an act of rebellion.

 

“Angel…” Spike hedged, fear shooting through him at Angel’s dark tone.  Yeah, he wanted to get noticed, wanted to trade blows, wanted to get fucked, because as much as he hated Angel these days, he knew he could never stop needing him, but there was something dangerous in his voice, his eyes, this time that Spike hadn’t ever seen directed at him before.  And it scared him.

 

“Shut up, Spike,” Angel suggest for the third time that night.  “Shut up and turn over.”  He really hadn’t come to Sunnydale to have sex with Spike.  He really hadn’t.  He’d wanted to smack him around a little, work out some of his aggression, threaten him and make sure he wasn’t going to go near Wesley or any of his friends ever again, but the bastard was just so infuriating, and so… sexy! 

 

He really couldn’t blame Wesley at all for succumbing to his charms, because Angel seemed unable to resist them himself.  If he couldn’t get Spike to do what he said with words and fists, perhaps he could fuck some obedience into him.  But he wasn’t counting on it.  It hadn’t ever worked in the past.

 

Spike did as Angel ordered, shifting under him so that he was face down in a horrible paisley pattern, and he made a note to really try to steal some better quality home furnishings before he felt Angel’s fingers comb through his hair and across his jaw to settle on his chin.

 

Angel yanked back and Spike grunted, his body tensing as it tried to protest the movement, but Angel held him fast and leaned down to whisper in his ear.  “This is what you wanted, Spike.  Don’t try to pretend it isn’t.” 

 

He let his fangs descend and lowered his head even more to scrape the sharp enamel across the tender flesh of Spike’s neck and then licked up the thin lines of blood that were drawn to the surface in the wake. 

 

They both moaned, surprised by the intensity of the pleasure produced by such a simple action, Spike shivering at the cool tenderness of the touch and Angel closing his eyes to savour the taste of Spike’s blood, not even close to forgotten after more than two years.

 

Spike considered trying to pull himself loose and throw his head back, catch Angel in the nose and make a break a for it, but Angel didn’t give him enough time.  And he wasn’t sure he’d really have wanted to anyway. 

 

No sooner had the soft wetness of Angel’s tongue lifted off the tingling skin on the back of Spike’s neck, did he find his face pressed firmly to the floor, Angel’s hand keeping him immobile with a palm to his cheek.  And he didn’t seem too worried about being gentle.  Not that Spike had a problem with that.

 

Angel took hold of the top of Spike’s pants at the back, and pulled.  Spike let out a satisfying groan of discomfort as the front of the pants, and his belt, dug into his belly painfully before they gave way under the force of Angel’s tug and split apart, making it very easy for Angel to pull them down far enough to expose Spike’s ass to him.

 

And damn, but it was a nice ass.  He’d almost forgotten.  It hadn’t really been that long, he realised since they’d done this.  Only a couple of years ago in Sunnydale, when Angelus had made a comeback, but before that it hadn’t been since they’d met on that submarine during the war.

 

Spike started to relax when Angel moved his hands to his skin, gently running them across the fleshy globes, thumbs delving a little further in the crack between them with each circular motion.  He knew he shouldn’t relax, because that was when it was likely to get very bad for him, but he couldn’t help it.  He had wanted this, like Angel said, and he’d missed it, missed Angel, the stupid jack-ass, and he was happy.

 

He felt one of Angel’s hands leave him and heard the sound of metallic teeth grating against each other as a zipper was lowered, and Spike tensed up again.  This was it.  It was really going to hurt.  It always did when Angel wanted to teach Spike a lesson, but after they got started Spike knew it was going to get really good.  And the pain wasn’t too bad for jacking up his arousal another notch or ten, either.

 

He felt the blunt head of Angel’s cock settle against his entrance and held as still as he could, waiting for the inevitable shove inside, waiting for the explosion of pain and pleasure and for the chance to move his hips a little and maybe get some friction on his own incredibly hard dick.

 

He waited, but nothing happened.  Angel remained even more still than Spike, and eerily quiet, until Spike started to shift slightly under him and raised his eyes as best he could with face smushed into ground, and said, “Angel?” in confused and timid sort of voice.

 

Angel really liked that voice.

 

“Tell me you want this,” he said, pushing forward the smallest fraction with his hips.

 

“Fuck off,” was Spike’s eloquent response.

 

“Oh, come on,” Angel cajoled.  “You know you do.  You admitted as much already.  I just want to hear you say it.”

 

“Fuck off!” Spike said again, louder and with a bit more frustration.  He didn’t want to have to say it, but it looked like Angel wasn’t going to give what he wanted unless he went along with it, so he sighed and mumbled, “I want it.  Happy?”

 

“Hmmm,” Angel hummed to himself, as if considering.  He pulled back his hips and pushed forward a little bit again, teasing Spike, making him hope that he might push in all the way, but he stopped after only a centimetre or so.  “No.  I think I’ll be happy when you beg for my cock.”

 

Right, that was enough.  Spike was willing to put up with a lot of shit to get what he wanted, but this was getting ridiculous.  Besides, he knew a way to get fucked, quick and hard and right away, and piss Angel off all over again. 

 

“Happy as I was when Wes begged for mine?”

 

Yep, that did it. 

 

“Fucker!” Angel shouted and rammed himself home inside Spike, feeling the dry walls of his anus stretch and pull, blood leaking out from the shallow wounds to ease his way.  He knew Spike had done that on purpose, baited him, and that Spike had won, like he usually did, but the rush of possessiveness and anger he felt at the reminder of what had brought him here was too powerful to resist.

 

“You should have heard him, Angel,” Spike panted after almost a minute of vicious hammering, and Angel’s fingernails dug into Spikes hips a little bit harder.  They were both moving against each other by that point, short, brutal little strokes, in and out, and filling the silence of the room with vaguely animalistic sounds. 

 

“The things he said to me.”  Angel growled and increased the pressure on the side of Spike’s face with his hand.  “Begging me to shove my cock inside him and do it harder, faster.”

 

Angel sped up his thrusts a little more and changed the angle of penetration so that he was rubbing himself over Spike’s prostate with every stroke, and Spike’s body jolted at the newly added pleasure.  He almost lost his train of thought for a second, but quickly recovered.

 

“He sounded so damn pretty, Angel.  Moaning and panting under me, gagging for it.  Screaming for me to pound him until he couldn’t walk.”

 

Angel felt his balls draw up close to his body and tried to will away his orgasm, at least for right now.  Spike’s words had made him see red at first; the idea of Spike and Wesley together wasn’t a happy one.  But now that he was buried in his granchilde’s tight hole, faced with such beauty and ecstasy and hearing Spike’s honey-and-sex voice paint a picture in his mind of what had gone on, what they would be like, sound like, look like… It was almost too much.

 

It was turning him on way more than he thought it should be, thinking of Wesley so desperate and at Spike’s mercy, and he felt like he was betraying his friend, having these thoughts.  Jerking off to the occasional thought of Wesley bouncing around on his lap was one thing, but getting off on what Spike was saying to him was another thing entirely.

 

“Shit, Angel, and when he begged for the bite,” Spike started, and Angel stilled for a moment, then quickly started up again, pushing Spike down more so that the blond’s erection was finally rubbing against rough carpet.  “Pleading so sweetly for my fangs to pierce that soft, delicious, flesh… And Angel, the taste of him.  It was like nothing I’ve ever…”

 

Spike didn’t get to finish that thought, and Angel wouldn’t have heard it anyway, because orgasm suddenly gripped them both and Angel bent forward to bury his fangs into the back of Spike’s shoulder, sucking loudly and sloppily as they both rode out the pleasure.

 

After several moments Angel pulled his teeth from Spike’s flesh and they both collapsed forward, Angel’s arms out to either side and his own face resting against Spike’s, where his hand had previously been.  He just needed a second.  Maybe a minute.  Okay, half an hour, and then he was getting up and leaving.  And punching Spike in the nose once more, just to hammer his point home.

 

Spike had been lying to Angel, of course.  Oh, he’d had sex with Wesley, and he’d even bitten him, but Wesley hadn’t begged for his anything.  Spike had pursued the ex-watcher, plied him with alcohol and a little bit of attention and the man had almost turned him down, but Spike had been persistent.  In fact, it had been Spike who had gotten dicked, but he didn’t really see any reason to tell Angel that.  It had been a lot more fun this way.

 

Stupid tosser was so easy sometimes.  He began to chuckle silently, Angel’s weight on top of him muting the motions, but Angel could feel them.

 

“What hell is so God-damned funny?” Angel asked, trying to sound angry, but he was much too sated for it to come out that way.  Maybe in an hour.  Definitely tomorrow.

 

“Nothing,” Spike answered, with an honest smile on his lips, but the laughing stopped.  “I just don’t know why you ever bother to pretend that you don’t want this.  It’s not really that hard to ever convince you, is it?”  Spike was careful not to mention that Angel wasn’t the only one who usually pretended. 

 

But Angel heard it anyway.  It was fucking annoying.  “We have to,” he said, and then they were both silent as Angel rolled off Spike and they lay beside each other on the ground, legs still touching from hip to toe and unnecessary air filling and leaving their lungs in prefect synchronicity. 

 

It probably wasn’t much more than ten minutes later that Spike managed to push himself to standing, hiking up his pants and trying to ignore the cool, wet trickles of Angel’s come dribbling out of his arse and down his thigh as he fastened his zipper. 

 

“Yeah, well,” he said.  “Let’s not go getting all… poufy about it, and making a big deal.  You’re a repressed wanker, Angel, we both know that and whether you like it or not, you’re happy when I tick you off, because it gives you an excuse to do what you really want, to be who you really are.”

 

Angel stood up too, then, and fastened his own pants, paying closer attention than was strictly necessary to his fly so that he wouldn’t have to look at Spike.  He couldn’t really argue with that; like he had been thinking earlier, he never could fool the blond pain in the ass, but that wasn’t what he’d come here to talk about.

 

‘Touch him again, Spike,” Angel warned, raising his head and walking past him, making a show of slamming his own broad shoulder into Spike’s scrawny one as he did. “And I’ll kill you.”

 

He left the crypt without looking back and cursed Spike for not just taking his beating and promising not to do anything wrong ever again.  He’d thought this would help.  Thought it would get his mind off Wesley.  And Spike.  And Spike and Wesley.  Thought it would resolve his conflicted priorities so he could concentrate on Darla and Drusilla.

 

Only now his mind was more on Wesley than it had ever been, and he wasn’t exactly going to be shaking the thought of Spike, bruised and bloody and taking it like a pro, anytime soon.  Fuck.  He really needed to deal with his girls, and fast, so his mind was completely void of distraction when he dealt with Wesley.

 

He knew he couldn’t treat him like he had Spike, for more reasons than just that the human’s body couldn’t handle it, and he needed to be as calm and centered as possible when he demanded to know just what the hell Wesley had been thinking when he’d let a cold blooded killer fuck him and suck his blood.

 

It would go well.  He could just feel it.

 

Spike watched Angel go, slightly disappointed, but not really surprised that Angel had run home, crying like a little girl at the mention of any not entirely virtuous thought that the oaf might be entertaining.  And threatening to kill him on the way out?  That was classic.

 

Spike knew he never would.  The threat was as empty as it had ever been, but it still stung as much as it ever did.  Oh well.  It wouldn’t be all that long before he and Angel met up again, and with any luck it would go a lot like it did this time.

 

He’d said that Wesley was off limits, but he hadn’t mentioned anything about Buffy…

 

END (of this part)

Continued here