RockStarPeach

Title:  Play It Again

Pairing:  Spike/Angel

Rating:  R

Summary:  Mod challenge for pjgale  over at nekid_spike, who asked for “Spike is slighted and Angel has some making up to do”.  Spike is feeling useless, and wants to leave town.  Angel wants him to stay.

Word count: 2400

***

There was no knock.

Spike didn’t need one.  He could practically hear the giant ninny brooding outside the door to his dank little basement apartment, not to mention the great lumbering footfalls that had gotten increasingly louder and then come to a stop about thirty seconds ago.

He was probably out there deciding just exactly how best to embarrass Spike next, what to do to make him feel extra worthless.  Maybe take a couple more jabs at him for getting his arse kicked by that Polgara demon when it was Angel that sent him in with the wrong bloody weapon, or maybe spend some more time snuggling up to Wolf Girl, so nobody would get the impression that Angel actually went to Spike to see most of his sexual needs fulfilled. 

Some of his emotional ones too, the sodding girl, but God forbid any of his little pet humans found out that Angel and Spike were in, what passed in some circles (twisted, fucked up circles) as a relationship.

Spike sighed and exited the bedroom, tossed his half full duffle bag (one change of clothes, a few faded and torn photographs and a carton of cigarettes didn’t take up a lot of space) down on the kitchen table on his way to the front door.  He could have been waiting for hours before Angel stopped trying to make himself feel bad over treating Spike like yesterday's garbage so that he could actually come off as convincing when he apologised.

And he always apologised.

Spike was effing sick of it.

He crossed to the door and stood there for a minute, took a steadying breath and placed his hand on the knob.  Angel could feel him.  He could tell, because he could feel Angel, suddenly stiff, tense and nervous, and Spike closed his eyes briefly before he got on with it.

The sooner he got rid of the pouf the sooner he could get the hell out of town.  Maybe he’d head north.  Seattle was probably a better place for vamps anyway than LA.

“Angel,” he said, his voice carefully blank as he opened the door.  “You can’t come in.”

He started to turn, closing the door as he moved, but Angel’s hand shot over the threshold and stopped its movement before Spike could fully shut it. Spike scowled and backed up a few steps as Angel moved forward, crowding him.

“You’re a vampire too, Spike,” Angel told him with a slight smile.  Spike couldn’t actually tell if it was genuine.  “That magic won’t work on me.”

“No,” Spike snorted, rolling his eyes and turning around, letting Angel come inside as he crossed back over to his kitchen.  He grabbed the box of Weetabix from his otherwise bare cupboard, and tossed it in the open bag on his table.  “But I thought common decency might.  My mistake, mate.”

“Spike,” Angel said, breathing the word out like it tasted bad in his mouth.  Pretty much the only way he ever said Spike’s name.  Well, unless they were naked with some permutation of hard dicks and bodily orifices, and even then exasperated was the predominant tone.  “Look, I’m sorry if...”

He trailed off then, and the uncertainty was enough for Spike to turn, to look at him.  And he laughed.  Short and harsh, but he couldn’t help it.  Angel looked like an idiot, staring at Spike’s half-arsed attempt at packing in the middle of the kitchen. 

“What are you doing?”  Spike almost wanted to hug him, he was so bloody adorable.  Clueless worked on Angel, despite how often Spike voiced the opposite.  Vehemently.

“I know you’ve got people who do this kind of thing for you now, Peaches, but I thought you might recognise it from the old days.  It’s what we lowly worker folk like to call ‘packing’.”

“You’re leaving.”  And bless him, but the poor bugger still had that half dazed expression on.  Spike raised an eyebrow and nodded.  “Why are you leaving?”

Spike’s jaw dropped a little at that, and after several seconds of staring at each other, Spike finally got it.  Angel didn’t understand.  The stupid son of a bitch truly didn’t understand.  And fuck, but Spike didn’t know if that made it better or worse.

“I’m sick of your bullshit, Angel,” Spike told him tiredly, yanked open another cupboard door.  There was nothing in it, not that he was expecting anything, and he slammed it with a clenched jaw.  “What the hell are you doing here, anyway?”

“I...” Angel started, voice kind of far off, and then he shook his head, stepped closer.  “I’m sorry.  I was...”

“A giant tool?” Spike suggested.  “Yeah, play me another one, sweetums.  You’re always a jerk and you’re always sorry.  I really don’t need this shite anymore.”

“Is this about sending you after the Polgara with a silver knife?”

Spike snickered and ducked his head.  Fucking Angel.  “Yeah, you thinking that it would be pretty funny if I got myself skewered to death was kind of a buzzkill, but no, Angel.  Now,” Spike continued, and grabbed the last beer out of his fridge, for lack of anything better to do with his hands, and took a sip of it, “you making out to your little friends that I was too retarded to get the job done without any trouble, that might be part of it.”

“Spike...”

“Oh, and how is Nina?  I know you’re not fucking her, but does anybody else?”

“Spike.”

“Save it, Angel.  It’s not... I know where you’re coming from.”

“You don’t,” Angel said, voice strong and firm for the first time since he’d come in.

“I do.  You’re so bloody used to kicking me around that you can’t even be arsed to acknowledge anything I’ve done that might have helped.  Have to harp on every last detail of my fuck ups, and hide the fact that you like my cock up yer arse like it’s the fucking holy grail.”

“But I don’t...”

“Shut.  Up.”  Spike ground his teeth and clenched his hands.  “I don’t want to hear it.  You’ve made yourself perfectly clear.  You’d be happier if I wasn’t around.  So, wish granted.  I’m leaving.”

Spike grabbed his bag off the table and took two steps towards the door.  He’d planned to take more than two, really he had, but it about then that Angel’s open palm collided with his solar plexus, and he went staggering back, jarred.  He dropped his bag to the floor, and the next thing he knew Angel had him off the ground and he was being pushed down on his sad, sad bed.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Angel growled, nose under Spike’s ear, human teeth gently teasing the soft skin of his neck.

“Why?” Spike asked, hands on Angel’s shoulders, not pushing or pulling, just holding.  “Because you said so?”

“Yes.”  Angel bit him.  Not hard, not enough to draw blood and they both shivered at what could have come of that motion.

“Sorry mate,” Spike said, trying to stay strong.  “Not good enough.  I don’t do what you say.  Haven’t done in a long time.  It’s best for both of us if I go.”

Spike moved then, pushed at Angel with all his might and sent him toppling to the side.  He levered himself up, swung a leg over the side of the bed and freedom was so close he could taste it.  Freedom from a sick unrequited love that he was tired as fuck of working to get returned.  So close to being free of Angel, and starting again.

And then he felt Angel’s fingers gripping tight around his hip, tips digging into the flesh around the bone hard enough to bruise and Spike groaned softly, happily.  Damn Angel to Hell anyway.

“Let me go,” he ordered darkly.

“Stay,” Angel countered.

“You want to try me, old man?” Spike asked, and Angel easily flipped him around, forced him down on to the bed next to Angel.  “Fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s the plan,” Angel said, and nudged his leg in between Spike’s, rubbed his thigh against Spike’s growing erection.  Asshole.

“And you think this is all it takes?  A half way ‘sorry’ and you humping my leg?”

“Well, I thought my ‘sorry’ was pretty heartfelt,” Angel told him.  “Plus, I’m willing to hump a lot more than your leg.”

He smirked, and Spike rolled his eyes.  This was not how he wanted it to go.  He wanted to be pissed off, not slowly and softly succumbing to Angel’s charms.

“Fuck you, Angel,” Spike said, and pretended not to notice as Angel unfastened his pants.  “I don’t need your drama and manipulation.”

Angel kissed his neck then, slow and drawn out, worked his pants down to his knees and then unfastened his own.  “What do you need, Spike?” he asked, and Spike jerked back.  Sat up and out of Angel’s reach.

“You?  Are a dick.  Sex isn’t gonna make me stay, you... shit!”

“You...” Angel started, and then paused, seemingly taken aback by Spike’s firm stance.  “You’re serious.  Aren’t you?”

“Bloody right I am.  You can’t just... treat me like I don’t matter.  Like I’m a joke.  Those people, Fred, Wes, Gunn... they mean something to me Angel.  You can’t just put me down around them and act like I don’t matter.  You can’t...”

Spike turned as much as he could in Angel’s hold and ducked his head.

“Can’t what, Spike?” Angel asked softly, and Spike nearly sucked in an unnecessary breath at the gesture.

“Piss off.”

Yeah, he was cool.  Sort of.

“Can’t treat you like I don’t care?” Angel asked, and Spike just clenched his teeth together, jaw ticking once uncontrollably.  “I do you know,” Angel said, and kicked off his pants, encouraging Spike to work his own off.

“I care, if that’s what you want to hear.  But fuck, Spike... I don’t.”

“Yeah,” Spike said, nodded.  “Don’t get your panties in a bunch there, babycakes.  Not like I’m about to go bragging about our ‘forever love’.”

“But if I...”  Angel managed to get that far and then they were both naked from the waist down, side by side on the ratty mattress and hesitantly rubbing against each other.  “What if I did?”

“You mean,” Spike said, and then gasped when Angel’s rock hard cock rubbed up against his own.  “You’d tell the kiddies about us?”

“What if I did?”  It wasn’t an answer, not that Spike expected one.

“Then I’d deny it to my dying... er, re-dying day.”

“Then what the fuck do you want, Spike?” Angel asked, and his nails dug into Spike’s shoulder blade.  “If it’s not for me to tell people about us...”

“Jesus fuck, Angel.  There’s more to life than sex, not that you’d know about that.  What I want,” he broke off and sucked in a deep breath of air when Angel grabbed hold of him, rolled them over so that Spike was on top of him, and their legs were slotted together, their cocks rubbing against each other.

“What I want is for you to treat me like I’m part of the team.”

Spike’s breath hitched and his arms gave out as Angel spread his legs and let Spike fall between them.

“I want you to admit that I did good, when I did.”

He bit his bottom lips when Angel tilted his hips and Spike settled more securely between Angel’s legs, his cock dragging over Angel’s balls, and Angel’s heels sliding slowly over his calves.

“I want you to give me more responsibility than killing a random demon with the wrong weapon.”

Angel’s hands wrapped around his back and pulled him down against him, Angel’s teeth catching his jaw.

“You want to be appreciated,” Angel said, summing up everything that Spike couldn’t flat out say.  He didn’t want to give Angel that kind of power.

“I want to stake you through the heart,” Spike countered, but Angel wasn’t fooled. 

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“Yeah, well,” Spike said, and he would have pulled back, really he would have, if the soft dip of Angel’s hip didn’t feel so damn good against his erection.  “That’s not really up to you.”

“I’ll give you control over your own missions,” Angel said, kissed the corner of Spike’s mouth.

“Yeah,” Spike mumbled, placed his forearms down on the bed with Angel’s ribs trapped between them.  “Sure.”

“I’ll let you chose what you want to do, won’t make out like you can’t handle yourself.”

“Oi.  Nobody would ever believe I couldn’t handle myself.”

“Of course not,” Angel said, smiling, placating, and Spike was almost compelled to smile with him.  “Would they believe I’d kiss you?”

And Angel kissed him.

Spike let him, responded enthusiastically, but broke it off after less than thirty seconds.

“You’d better bloody hope not.  Because we are not pulling that shite in full view of the employees, Sparky.”

Angel smiled.  A small smile, a knowing smile, and Spike felt the look down to his toes.

“But you want it, don’t you Spike?”

Angel licked his lips.  Licked Spike’s lips.  Spike shuddered and tried not to come on the spot.

“I hate you, you know that?”

“Yeah,” Angel agreed, and then Spike knew without a doubt that his smile was real.  “Yeah, I do.”

But what he  meant was, ‘I know you’re just as scared as I am’, and Spike fell into his arms.

“You still... have to... let me... have my way....” Spike mumbled between kisses, and Angel grinned, grabbed Spike’s cock and angled it back toward his ass.

“What if I just let you fuck the hell out of me?” he asked, canting his hips up and letting the slippery head of Spike’s cock slide along the crevice.  “That work?”

Spike’s entire body quivered and his hips moved of their own accord, up and down until Angel’s ass cheeks gave way, and he slid home, hot and tight and perfect.

“Yeah,” Spike nodded absently.  “Yeah, that could work.”

And when Angel wrapped his legs around Spike’s back, hooked his heels together and let Spike fuck him like fucking was going out of style.  Well.  Then.  Then Spike let his guard down, for the first time in a hundred years, and hoped to fucking hell that Angel wouldn’t make him regret it.

END