RockStarPeach

***

“Spike, this is completely ridiculous,” Wesley said, stepping into the elevator and out of Wolfram and Hart’s first floor lobby. Spike got walked in after him, and leaned casually back against the wall while Wesley hit the button for their floor. “There’s no way it’s going to work. Angel’s not that stupid.”

Spike snorted and shook his head. “Have you met him?” he asked. “He’s way stupider than that.”

“You should really just talk to him, you know. Stop these ridiculous games and tell him how you feel.”

“Like you talked to Fred?” Spike shot, with a raised eyebrow. The two of them bad been dancing around each other for weeks, but so far, nothing.

Wesley just glared coldly at him for a moment, and then sighed, looking away. “I wouldn’t count on the results of this little stunt being particularly favourable.”

Spike didn’t mention that any reaction he got where Angel was actually paying attention to him would be favourable, because that might have made him look just the teensiest bit pathetic. Which he completely wasn’t. “Look, Wes, I can’t just talk to him. It’s not something we do. I just need to know… I guess I need to know if he cares. If he even notices.”

Spike was pretty sure that he would. Hell, he knew Angel pretty damn well, and throughout all the ignoring and blustering and bickering, he could tell when Angel was aroused. And when Spike was around, particularly when there was fighting, or touching, Angel was aroused.

And Spike noticed Angel enough to know when Angel noticed him. He just wasn’t sure exactly what it meant. He was pretty sure Angel wanted to fuck him, which was something they hadn’t done since he’d lost the soul back in Sunnyhell, and Spike was in the wheelchair. But what he didn’t know, what he felt a little bit girly for wanting to know, was if Angel wanted anything else from him. If it would matter to him whether or not Spike was involved with someone.

“Fine,” Wesley agreed, and the elevator dinged, signalling they had arrived at their floor, and they stepped out. “I’ll help you. But you’re going to owe me.”

“Blow job cover it?” Spike teased, slapping Wesley playfully on the arse as he walked ahead of him into the conference room, leaving a gaping Wesley to trail behind.

***

“Okay,” Angel said, nodding to the group gathered around the table, and doing his best to ignore Spike, standing in the corner, and providing a colourful commentary on the meeting. “Everything seems good so far. That should about cover it.” He flipped his note folder closed with a fingertip, and rested his palm flat against the cover. “So Wes, you can get that report finished for me by midnight?”

Wesley clenched his teeth, silently cursing Spike and his stupid plan, and took a shallow breath. “No, I’m sorry Angel, I won’t be able to finish it before then.”

“What?” Angel asked. “Why not? If you start now...”

“I’m afraid I can’t,” Wesley insisted, cutting him off, and shot Spike a brief look, eyebrows narrowed and lips tight. “I’ve already made plans this evening. You should have told me earlier that you’d need this done.” Oh, he’d known Angel was going to ask him to do it. Spike knew it too, hence this stupid plan of his.

“Uh…” Angel faltered, frowning and feeling a bit blindsided. He hadn’t expected Wesley to have any plans, for starters, because none of them ever had any plans. Also, Wesley had a way of saying things that left you so sure about what he’d said that you didn’t want to bother arguing. So Angel didn’t bother. “Okay. Um… Tomorrow morning?”

Wesley nodded. “Yes, fine. I believe I can mange that.”

“If he’s not up too late,” Spike offered cheerfully, and both Wesley and Angel, and Lorne too, actually, turned to Spike, looking at him with varied levels of annoyance.

“Oh, Spike, you’re here,” Angel said, the first words he’d spoken to him that day, finally acknowledging his presence in the room. It was just easier a lot of the time to pretend he wasn’t there.

It made it easier to concentrate on what needed concentrating on, if he wasn’t constantly being distracted by Spike’s smirk, and the way he licked his lips, and way his hands always seemed to frame his crotch, constantly making it the most predominant part of him by tilting his pelvis forward whenever Angel was close enough to see. “In that case maybe you can put yourself to some use for a change, and clear out a nest of Sulara demons on the east side.”

“Sorry, bossman,” Spike said, smiling. “I got plans tonight, too.” He didn’t turn his head away from Angel, but he let his eyes move to look at Wesley, and quirked the side of his mouth up briefly, before bringing his attention back to Angel. He really hoped Angel caught that look.

Angel had, and he hadn’t missed the way Wesley’s eyes had darted to Spike a few seconds ago either. They had both looked at each other, after both announcing that they had plans. They couldn’t… No. No, they couldn’t actually have plans together. Could they? That just didn’t make any sense. They didn’t even like each other.

But the thought that they might, made Angel’s gut feel heavy and his unpumping blood feel almost hot. It pissed him off. Sure, he and Spike hadn’t exactly agreed to start… well, anything… but if he was going to be off making ‘plans’ with anybody, he should have damn well asked him.

Angel hadn’t exactly made himself accessible, had pretty much gone out of his way to let Spike know that he had no interest in him at all. But hell, they always did that to each other. It didn’t mean anything. No, they didn’t get along, barely liked each other, and probably never would. But that didn’t mean they still didn’t… or they still couldn’t… fuck! He had no idea what it meant, only that the idea of Spike and Wesley together bothered him.

“Well cancel them!” Angel snapped, standing up. He knew he was overreacting, so he managed to stop himself from crossing the room and grabbing Spike by the front of his jacket, and slamming him into the wall. Barely.

“Bugger that!” Spike answered, his first instinct always to do the exact opposite of what Angel told him to do. Besides, he’d been planning these plans for a while, and they were important, and there was no way in hell he was cancelling them. Then again, Sulara demons were nasty buggers, who could rack up a body count like nobody’s business, and if someone didn’t deal with them soon, a lot of people were going to die.

He heaved an affected sigh and rolled his eyes as Angel starred daggers at him, playing it up like he was making a huge concession. “S’pose I could swing by later.” Angel nodded, lips twisting with the tiniest bit of smugness, satisfied that he’d gotten what he wanted out of Spike, and Spike scowled. “Much later,” he added, petulant. “After my… plans.” The way the word plans came out, there wasn’t a single person in the room that didn’t know that by ‘plans’, what he’d meant was ‘sex’.

Angel turned away, ignoring that last comment, and showing Spike his very large, very stiff back. “Alright, that’s it. Meeting over,” he said, and everyone stood up and filed out of the conference room.

***

Angel didn’t get much work done that afternoon. He took a couple of meetings, and he thought he probably made it through them without offending anyone to the point of war with his lack of interest, and he filled out some paperwork, almost positive he’d done it properly. Mostly. Though to be fair, even if he had been paying to attention to anything besides the possibility of Wesley and Spike developing some kind of… something, he probably wouldn’t have gotten the paperwork completely right anyway. He was terrible at stuff like that.

He watched Wesley leave a little after six o’clock, hours early than he usually left, and Angel frowned, picked up his phone, and barked at Harmony to get him some blood. He was almost tempted to ask for human, despite his policy, but he knew if he got the taste of it on his tongue, it probably wouldn’t bode well for Wes, if Angel learned that he actually was fucking Spike.

That desire, that instinct to feed and kill, was much closer to the surface than Angel liked to admit, even on a good day. And this wasn’t looking like a very good day.

Spike had left as soon as the staff meeting had ended, to do God knew what, and Angel had thought seriously of having him tailed, but he figured as long as he was keeping an eye on Wesley, he’d be able to keep from going crazy.

He spent the next two hours after Wesley went home clutching his mug of otter’s blood, and trying to think of an excuse to call Spike, that the younger vampire wouldn’t see through entirely.

He didn’t come up with one.

Some time after eight o’clock, while he was pretending to work, and mostly just staring out his window into the reception area, Spike showed up. He looked into Angel’s office, catching his eye and smirking at him, offering a wink, before he turned and leant over the counter to talk with Harmony.

He watched them for a few minutes, watched Harmony giggle and smile and touch Spike unnecessarily, and he sort of wanted to kill her a little. Maybe this was what Spike’s ‘plans’ were, banging Harmony, and he’d read the whole Wesley situation wrong. If that was case, he’d be relieved, because while he wasn’t crazy about the idea of Spike and Harmony together, it didn’t threaten his position in Spike’s life.

Not that he knew what that was exactly, or what he even wanted it to be, but the point was, Harmony was an airhead, and not someone Spike could ever take seriously. Not like Wes.

But when Spike left five minutes later, Harmony waving cheerfully at him, Angel got curious again. He waited until the elevator doors had closed behind Spike, and he left his office, work still open and unfinished on his desk, to ask Harmony where Spike was going.

“Don’t know, bossy,” she smiled and shrugged. “Said he had a date, and he was taking the Viper.”

“He what?!” Angel hissed. “And you didn’t tell him he couldn’t?”

“No,” she said, as if Angel was saying something completely ridiculous. “Why would I tell him he couldn’t? Besides, even if I did, it’s not like he would have listened.”

That was true.

“Whatever,” was what Angel said. “Just… finish up what you’re doing and go home. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Night bossy!” Harmony called, talking to Angel’s back as he swung into his coat and got into the elevator.

***

Spike waited almost a full minute after he’d stolen the key to the Viper, before he started it up, and pulled out onto the street. He knew Angel had lojacks on all the cars, but the idiot probably couldn’t figure out how to use the technology, so Spike wanted to make it easy for Angel to follow him the old fashioned way.

It worked, and after ten minutes of very careful driving on Spike’s part, he pulled up outside Wesley’s apartment building, with Angel bringing the Benz to an idle just around the corner. Spike could see the car through the rear view mirror, and he smiled, picturing what Angel’s face looked like, hard and edgy, a combination of brooding and murderous, his fingers gripping tight to the steering wheel.

Okay, so he probably wasn’t as worked up over this as Spike liked to imagine, but at least he was curious, and that was something enough to make Spike at least a little bit happy.

Spike got out of the car and walked up to the front door, buzzing for Wesley’s unit. Wesley didn’t answer, and Spike buzzed again. And again. His spirits didn’t fall in the slightest when Wesley still didn’t answer, and he just held the buzzer down for a bout a minute straight, grinning.

A minute later Wesley showed up at the door, pushing it open and giving Spike an annoyed look. “I heard you the first time, Spike,” he said. “You didn’t have to near deafen me with that horrible noise.”

Spike had planned on telling Wesley that he should have just answered the buzzer in the first place, instead of ignoring it, but his thought processes were interrupted when he actually looked at Wesley. He froze for a moment, blinked, and yup, Wes still looked the same as he had a second ago.

Spike’s mouth hung open slightly, and he looked Wesley up and down, not even trying to hide the fact that he was blatantly ogling him. He wasn’t dressed in the usual stuffy garb that he wore to work every day, no perfectly pressed khaki pants, spotless starched shirts, and beautifully knotted ties. Not tonight.

He had on a pair of dark black jeans that fit snugly around his waist, and Spike was almost dying to turn him around to see how they hugged his arse, but that could wait a few seconds until they started walking. He also wore a plain white t-shirt, not loose and baggy, like the majority of his clothes, but not obscene in its tightness, just enough to show off the fact that he had a decently shaped body underneath it all.

And the best part, Spike thought, was the leather jacket. Not long and flowing, like the ones Spike and Angel wore, but not short, like a bomber jacket, either. It came down to mid-thigh level, and it fit comfortably on his shoulders, and when Spike looked up at his face, finally, he realised his hair was different, too.

Not as in place as he normally wore it, a little more mussed, but not messy, just… relaxed. Everything about him looked relaxed tonight, and Spike had never seen Wes like this before. Didn’t think Wesley was every actually like this at all. It was hot. He briefly considered scrapping his plan and just dragging Wesley inside and up to his apartment.

“Damn, Wes,” Spike said, sounding surprised and impressed.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Wesley answered stiffly, but cracked a slight grin. “Let’s get this the bloody hell over with. I assume Angel is brooding in the shadows somewhere?”

Spike snickered and tilted his head to the side, indicating Angel’s location. “Followed me here in the Benz. Bloody predictable.”

Wesley nodded. “Shall we?” he asked, making to step past Spike and toward the Viper. He would have preferred to take his bike, but Spike absolutely refused to wear the girly helmet. If he was going to keep taking men for rides, Wesley really needed to consider getting an extra black one.

“Or,” Spike hedged, looking Wesley up and down once more before shooting him one of his patented, smouldering ‘nobody can resist me’ looks. “We could just go upstairs now, skip to the good bit.” He was only kidding. Mostly.

“Funny,” Wesley said, like it wasn’t at all, but he did manage a slight chuckle. Apparently somebody could resist Spike. “And I’m actually expecting the crabcakes at Fressen to be the ‘good bit’ tonight.”

“Now who’s the funny one? Right then,” Spike said, slipping his hand around to the back of Wesley’s neck, and pulling the man toward him, kissing him quick and hard on the lips, before pulling back and slinging his arm around his shoulders. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

***

Despite his suspicions, Angel was honestly surprised when Spike drove to Wesley’s house, and even more surprised when Wesley showed up downstairs looking like a much less dorky version of his ‘rogue demon hunter’ persona. He still wasn’t as hot as he’d been back when he’d gone through that self-destructive phase in the wake of everything that happened with Connor, but he looked damn good.

And if Angel wasn’t already sitting down behind the wheel of his car, he would have fallen over, when Spike kissed Wesley, and the two walked side by side down the cement path, and got into the Viper Spike had stolen. Angel thought maybe he should call the cops, and report the car stolen. That would be funny. And he had a great sense of humour, even if some people refused to believe that about him.

Angel waited until Spike and Wesley were a few blocks down the road before he pulled out to follow them, making sure to stay back enough that they wouldn’t notice him. He’d done a good job of staying hidden so far, and even though a part of him wanted them to see him, so he could demand to know what the hell they thought they were doing together, he kind of just needed to watch for now. Just needed to see for himself what was going on. And not brood about it. Maybe a little.

Restaurant. Of course. And not even a particularly nice one. God, Spike had no imagination, if this was his idea of wooing Wesley. Angel could have done so much better. Not that he was planning on wooing Wesley. Or Spike. Or anybody.

The two of them parked and went inside, and Angel drove around the block once before parking his own car across the street.

They were inside for almost two hours, and there were several times that Angel wanted to leave, forget about it and go find something to kill, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on anything else until Spike and Wesley were home. Their own homes. Alone.

Fuck, what the hell could Wesley be thinking? Angel knew what Spike was thinking, because Wesley was a good looking guy, hot, with that dominant streak a mile wide hidden just under the surface, and Spike really went in for that. Angel too, on occasion, and he’d be lying if he said he’d never considered a little fun with the ex-watcher.

But Wes… Shit, Wes was smarter than this. Sure, Spike was sexy, and manipulative, and could charm the panties off a nun, but he would have thought for sure that Wesley would have been able to see through his game. Angel all but refused to admit that Spike’s interest in Wesley was genuine.

Spike was terrible for Wesley. Hell, Spike was terrible for everybody.

He passed the time picturing the two of them in the restaurant, eating and drinking and laughing, sharing food and kisses, conversation dropping out as time passed and the end of the meal drew closer, silent looks saying much more than words could as they made promises of what was coming next.

Stupid. It was all so stupid. Even if that’s what they were doing, it was none of Angel’s business. Except it was. He wasn’t sure that he wanted Spike, or what he wanted him for, but he was damn sure he didn’t want anybody else to have him. Not if it meant anything.

And all that thinking of Spike sharing food, and drink, was conjuring up all sorts of images about him and Spike, and the types of food they used to share, and what would happen afterward, back when things had been almost good, and they’d been as close as they’d ever been. A not entirely unpleasant shiver ran up his spine at the memories, followed by a surge of overwhelming possessiveness.

When Spike and Wesley left the restaurant they were smiling, and Angel clenched his jaw so tight it ached. He followed them back to Wesley’s place afterward, watched Spike walk Wesley to the door like he was a fucking girl or something, and kiss him. It was longer and softer than the kiss at the beginning of the night, but it still didn’t seem particularly intimate. Maybe Wesley was shy. Good.

So now Spike was going to go home, or go find someone else to fuck, because Wes had clearly come to his senses and was going to tell Spike to fuck off. Now Angel could go home, and sit by himself, and drink. Now he could try to forget about this for a little while, and go back to pretending that he didn’t give a rat’s ass what or who Spike did.

Except… Spike wasn’t going home. They were smiling, and Wesley still looked kind of annoyed, but also happy. Happy like Angel hadn’t seen him in years, like being with Spike took away some of the stress and unpleasantness of his life. And then they went upstairs together.

Angel hated himself for begrudging Wesley this, if it was what he really wanted, but he knew himself well enough to know that he wouldn’t let them be together. Even if it took a while, if it looked like things were going to get serious, he’d find a way to stop them, to end it.

He lasted longer than he thought.

Just over fifteen minutes after Spike and Wesley had disappeared through the building doors, Angel had had enough. He’d seen them laugh and touch and kiss, and he’d sat through it, remembering what it was like when he’d done those things with Spike, but now he couldn’t see them anymore, now his imagination was running wild, filled in by all the pretty pictures of the other things that he’d done with Spike over the years.

His blood was boiling by the time he forced the lock on the lobby door, and he barely managed not to pull the railing from the concrete in his rage, as he walked up the stairwell to Wesley’s floor. If anyone, any man, was going to do that kind of depraved shit to Spike, it was going to be him, damn it. He loved Wesley, he really did in his own dysfunctional way, but there was just no way in hell he was getting anywhere near Spike with his cock.

Because he knew them both, and he knew that if they started something sexual, they were both the type to make something more out of it. They both always did, unless they were fucking someone they actively disliked.

By the time he grabbed Wesley’s doorknob and twisted it down, breaking the lock and pushing the door open, he was so very ready to find Wes fucking a bound and gagged Spike over the arm of his couch while he ushered whispered promises of love and forever, that the complete innocence of what he saw floored him.

***

“Bit over the top, eh gramps?” Spike asked, raising an eyebrow at Angel. He was standing in the doorway, large and glowering, his stance angry and ready, the way he looked when he was going into a fight. And Wesley’s lock was broken.

“I…” Angel started, but had no idea how to continue. He wasn’t expecting… this. Wesley and Spike, sitting side by side on the couch, drinking… it smelled like hot chocolate, and completely clothed. They weren’t even touching. Just… sitting. Talking, probably, though what they’d be talking about he didn’t know, and he was almost more jealous about that. If there was one thing Spike and Angel had never been good at, it was talking.

“Angel!” Wesley said, making an outraged kind of face. “My door! You could have just knocked.”

Angel opened his mouth again, looked from Spike to Wesley and back, but still said nothing. This was not going how he’d thought. He was going to pull Wesley and Spike apart, talk some sense into Wesley, take Spike home, and pound some sense into him. But now, he was just looking kind of idiotic.

“Yeah,” Spike smirked, eyes darting to Wesley briefly, and then back to Angel. “But then he wouldn’t have been able to catch us in the compromising position of sitting fully clothed on the sofa.”

“What are…” Angel started, voice coming back. “What are you two doing?”

“Just trying to spend a lovely evening together,” Spike said, trying his best to look completely serious. It wasn’t working, but he didn’t care. Angel had fallen for it, and it didn’t matter at this point if Angel knew now that it wasn’t what it looked like it was. What mattered was Angel’s reaction to what he’d thought had been going on. “You know… dinner, drinks. The stuff that comes after dinner and drinks…”

Spike was smirking, purposely trying to goad Angel. He knew he was close to cracking, to admitting that he was jealous, and Spike really wanted to hear that.

Angel shook his head like he didn’t really believe it, but he’d seen it with his own eyes, so what else was he supposed to think? “What? Wes, seriously. What could you possibly see in him?” Maybe if he appealed to Wesley’s sense of reason, he could nip this in the bud before it really started.

“Hey!” Spike protested, but he was largely ignored.

“Apparently,” Wesley said with a sigh, and put his mug of chocolate down on the coffee table in front of them. “A lot less than you do.”

“Huh?”

Wesley rolled his eyes. He’d been there for Spike when he’d asked, he’d gone along with his stupid idea this far, because Spike had seemed so desperate, and he knew, deep down, that Spike and Angel did care for one another. Whether or not they could manage to make that work in any sort of context beyond the occasional fuck, and trading of blows was highly doubtful in Wesley’s opinion, but they deserved to know that the other cared, at least.

But he’d gone as far as any friend should have to, for both of them, and now they just needed to talk. Or, do whatever they did that wasn’t talking, and leave Wesley the hell alone to get some sleep. He still had a report due for Angel first thing in the morning, and he was exhausted.

“Angel, we’re not on a date.” He ignored Spike’s wordless protest and stood up, taking a few steps toward the kitchen so that he could look at them both at the same time, instead of turning his head back and forth. “God, the two of you are so incredibly obvious, and stubborn as mules. Just… go home and talk. Or shag, or beat each other to bloody pulps, or whatever it is you do that props up your egos when you’re worried that you’re unloved.”

That effectively shut up both vampires for a moment, and Angel looked down at the floor, eying the pattern on the rug in Wesley’s living room. He was glad that he couldn’t really blush, because he was feeling pretty stupid. He’d been set up, and he’d fallen for it. Shit.

“Well?” Spike asked after a moment, sounding impatient, and Angel’s face turned up to look at him. It was pretty much all out in the open now, and he needed for Angel to admit this all bothered him, that he didn’t want Spike to be with Wesley. Make him say that he cared. He needed Angel to say it first. It was why he’d set this all up, after all.

“Well what?” Angel asked, confused.

“What the bloody hell were you following us for?” Spike asked. God, Angel wasn’t make him say it first, was me? Ponce.

“Who says I was following you?”

Spike rolled his eyes and stood up as well, moving closer to Angel, and Wesley backed up even further. “And you just happened to show up here to break the door down, because that’s what you usually do on Wednesday’s? Please. How stupid do you think I am?”

“Well…” Angel started, cracking a grin.

“Shut it. You were following us, and you know it. And poor Percy’s not gonna get his security deposit back on this place what with the door not closing properly now and all, so what gives?”

Angel scowled and decided to evade with a question of his own. “Why the hell were you trying so hard to make me think that the two of you were…” he trailed off, waving his hand around, not wanting to say what it was he thought they’d been doing up here.

“Fucking?” Spike supplied helpfully, voice entirely too chipper.

“That,” Angel ground out through clenched teeth. It grated on his brain to even think about it. “Why would you want me to think that, when you’re not?”

“I wasn’t trying to do anything Angel, sides hang out with my very dear friend.” His voice was a little too solemn, and his eyes too wide to be innocent. “Not my fault you took it the wrong way. Which you wouldn’t have, if you hadn’t been following me.”

“Oh, for the love of…” Wesley mumbled, and turned his back on the vampires, heading into his kitchen to pour himself a glass of something amber and smoky. It was a move that reminded him quite a bit of Rupert Giles, and he smiled to himself. “The two of you deserve each other.”

“I was concerned for Wes,” Angel snarled, finally admitting that yes, he’d been following them, and inched closer to Spike. They weren’t far apart now, and they were both a little tense, though neither of them could have said if they would have preferred to kiss, or punch the other in the nose. “Thought maybe he’d gone insane or something.”

“What?” Spike huffed, hurt and indignant. “I’m not good enough for him?” Angel’s face softened a little when he realised that the jibe had actually gotten to Spike. He’d been told, by just about everybody for just about his entire life, that he wasn’t good enough. Most of those times, he’d been told by Angel. And Angel hadn’t really wanted to pick a fight tonight. Just wanted to stop Spike from… enjoying himself at all.

Shit, he was an ass sometimes.

“No, sorry,” he mumbled, shaking his head. That’s not what I… I didn’t mean that. I just…”

“Yeah?” Spike asked, when Angel trailed off, and wanted to bite his tongue clean off for how needy he sounded. He didn’t need Angel’s approval. He was doing fine on his own. Only he didn’t really believe that, not for a second.

For a flash, Angel wanted to tell Spike no. No, he wasn’t good enough for Wesley, he wasn’t good enough for anyone, because he was annoying, and selfish and nothing but trouble. And that was all true. But Spike was a lot of other things as well, and Angel was selfish too, and he knew that his main motivation came from not wanting to see Spike with someone else, not a concern for who Spike might hurt.

“I don’t want him touching you,” was what Angel finally said, quietly, but he’d managed to meet Spike’s eyes, and at least that was something. “Don’t want anyone touching you.”

Spike snickered and moved even closer to Angel, almost touching him now, much too close for either of them to throw any kind of decent punch, so it was looking that kiss/hit decision had been made. “Hate to break it to you, forehead,” he said. “But a lot of people have touched me.”

“Not anymore,” Angel growled. But he didn’t even really mean it. He honestly didn’t care if Spike slept around. That really didn’t matter. It only mattered if Spike cared about them. For over a century, Spike and Angel had been there, had been connected, and now that Darla was dead, and Dru wasn’t coming back to them, or they weren’t going back to her, whatever, Spike and Angel were it. Pretty much all they had, in the long term, anyway.

They were both souled now, and understood each other again, like nobody else ever could, and it mattered that they were there. They didn’t even have to like each other, which was a damn good thing, because they probably never would.

And Angel didn’t want anyone else to come along and threaten that bond. The sex Spike did or didn’t have with random droves didn’t mean much, it was just what would inevitably come along with sleeping with someone like Wes, that he’d kill over.

“Why’s that?” Spike asked, and this time it was Angel that moved closer, their bodies pressed flush and Spike tilted his head up slightly to look at Angel.

“You’re mine,” was all he said, and they both let out little half-sighs before their mouths came together, more teeth than lips, and hands started to grab blindly.

They’d been quiet for several seconds, and Wesley turned from staring at his cabinets with his drink in his hand, and walked back out to his living room. He cleared his throat when he saw them together, and they pulled apart slowly, blood staining their lips, and their clothing askew, hair slightly mussed. And Wesley, though he was most certainly and completely heterosexual, didn’t think he’d seen much that was sexier than that sight.

Angel didn’t look at Wesley, but he did smile at Spike, swiping his thumb across his lip, smearing the blood. “Wes,” he said, and brought his thumb to his own mouth, sucking on it slowly, and his smile broadened when Spike’s eyelids fluttered. “Do you mind maybe getting out of here for a while?”

“What?!” Wesley sputtered, nearly dropping his drink. “Angel… this is my house! I’m not going anywhere.” He wasn’t, damn it. They could take their little games somewhere else, thank you, because Wesley had an early morning.

“No, watcher’s got a point,” Spike said, turning his face to Wesley and smiling a twisted smile. He winked and turned back to Angel. “It’s his place after all, so maybe we should let him stay. Bet he’d enjoy the show. And who knows? Maybe we’ll get a little audience participation.”

Spike was smirking at Angel, and Angel tried not to laugh out loud at the look on Wesley’s face when he glanced over.

Wesley paled and placed his drink down on the table before simply turning and heading toward his open door. This was just not worth the trouble, or the trauma he’d have to endure. “Have fun,” he said, blankly, before stepping through the frame, and heading toward the stairs. It was probably just best if he headed over to Wolfram and Hart, and spent the night in one of the suites there.

Spike and Angel turned to watch him go, and then looked back at each other. Spike moved his hand over Angel’s hip and to the front of his pants, cupping the hardness of his cock tightly in his palm, licking his lips.

“You heard the man,” he said, moving his hand to wiggle his hips forward and push his own aching prick against Angel’s. “Let’s have some fun.”

END