RockStarPeach

angelstoy!! I love you! I haven't written Spangel in quite a while, and it seriously took me more than one try to put out something that didn't make me want to cry after I read it back. In any case, I hope you enjoy, my darling.


Title: Your Fault
Pairing: Angel/Spike
Summary: Spike and Angel get caught in a compromising position. It’s more fun than they pretend.
Rating: Adult
Word count: 1340



***

“This is your fault, you know,” Spike mumbled, giving a petulant tug to his bound wrists and arching his back as best he could to work out some of the kinks. Being flat on your back with your hands cuffed to the headboard and a pissed off Angel between your legs was really only fun for the first hour or so.

“My fault?” Angel baulked, pulling his head back just enough so that Spike could see his raised eyebrow. “In what part of your retarded mind do you figure this is my fault?”

“You’re the idiot that keeps magic handcuffs in the table by his bed. It’s not like I’m the one that cursed them, tosser.” Spike shifted again on the bed trying to get comfortable and felt Angel’s cock start to harden along side his own. Which was pretty damn impressive, given they’d already done it three times and Angel wasn’t exactly getting any younger.

Angel blew out a long breath, the kind he breathed when he was mentally counting down from ten and trying not to punch Spike in the nose. ‘Course, Angel was cuffed to the bed too, so most violent he was really capable of getting at the moment was a good, hard fuck. Which Spike wouldn’t exactly say no to, again, seeing as they had fuck all else to do for the next however long.

“No,” Angel said carefully, letting his head fall forward again to rest on Spike’s shoulder. “But you are the one that handcuffed both of us the fucking bed, while I was sleeping without checking to see what it was you were using, braintrust.”

“Wot, like I’m supposed to just assume you’ve got all your sex toys rigged up to be so super strong you can’t ever break free?”

“First of all,” Angel growled, shifting over Spike so that their chests rubbed together, nipples catching and forcing a sucking breath into Spike’s lungs while Angel ground his teeth. “They’re not sex toys, Spike, they’re weapons.”

“Everything’s a sex toy when I’m around,” Spike mumbled. Angel ignored him.

“And second, they won’t stay locked forever.”

“No, just until we can stuff the magical fairy key in the magical fairy lock. Except oh, they key’s on the other side of the bloody room and we’re shackled to the bed!”

“Again, not my fault! If you weren’t such a sex-crazed pervert…” Angel mumbled, and Spike smiled when he felt him shift his hips, his own cock swelling once more when Angel’s rubbed against it. He spread his legs a little wider so Angel could settle more comfortably over him and Angel took advantage, drew his hips back and thrust forward, making them both moan lightly.

“If I wasn’t such a sex-crazed pervert,” Spike told him, grinning as he nipped at Angel’s earlobe with his teeth, “you wouldn’t love me.”

“It’s cute how you think I love you now,” Angel deadpanned. Spike just grinned broader and wrapped his legs around Angel’s waist.

“You love parts of me, mate,” he said, tilting his hips up so that the head of Angel’s cock slid over his tender hole. “Admit it.”

“Spike, seriously,” Angel sighed, even as his cockhead dipped inside, stretching Spike’s tight rim. “Not again, not now. I’m getting raw.”

“He says, as he sticks his pecker up inside me for the fourth time,” Spike said, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, well…” Angel started, short and sharp, clenching his fists and his teeth as he bottomed out inside Spike, balls slapping against Spike’s ass. “That’s your fault, too!”

“’Course it is,” Spike smiled. “It’s because I’m so darn loveable.”

“Whatever gets you through the night,” Angel said, slightly breathless as his hips started to rock, setting up a steady rhythm. He sucked in a breath and then bit down on Spike’s shoulder, arms tensing where they were stretched out over Spike’s. “Damn you feel good.”

“Ngh,” Spike grunted, arching his back to press the sharp bone of his shoulder harder against Angel’s mouth. “Not so bad yourself. Press down harder.”

Angel pulled back and slammed into Spike, hard. Spike cried out and Angel moaned, low and heavy, did it again.

“Not like that, you twat,” Spike said, wriggling under Angel to try to get more friction on his erection, tip sliding across Angel’s belly, leaving a slick trail of pre come. “With your gargantuan midsection. I need something to rub against.”

“With my… And for that, you can just forget it.”

Angel picked up his speed, fucked into Spike hard, fast and angled himself so that his cock was brushing Spike’s prostate and there was a decent six inch gap between the rest of their bodies. It must have been hell on his wrists, the metal of the cuffs digging into his skin and Spike’s. And it was a royal pain in the arse as far as Spike’s getting off was concerned.

“Angel, son of a…”

Spike gave his arms a yank, winced at the sharp stab of pain and planted his feet flat on the bed, used the leverage to drive his hips up, chased at the unavoidable pleasure of Angel’s prick dragging over his prostate and the ever so slight pull of his own dick over the soft flesh of Angel’s stomach.

“Get comfortable, baby,” Angel teased, slamming in hard once more and then pulling back slowly, driving in with agonising languor. “Pretty sure I can keep this up all day if I have to.”

“Or at least until Charlie or Wes or Fred comes lookin’ for ya. Damn, aren’t you late for half a dozen meetings already? Why the bloody hell hasn't your brigade come a knockin’?”

“Maybe because they…” was as far as Angel got before the elevator door slid open and both vampires froze, Spike looking over Angel’s shoulder toward the door and Angel craning his neck, trying for a good view.

“Angel, it’s past noon, and I know that you’ve…”

“Wesley,” Spike spoke, the word a low whisper. “Fucking perfect.”

“Oh,” Wesley said, pulling up short as he rounded the corner to stop in front of Angel’s bed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise…”

“No!” Spike shouted. “No, don’t go. We’re kind of… stuck.”

“Stuck?” Wesley asked, and Spike could just see his furrowed brow as he felt the vibrations of Angel’s laugh against his body. “Stuck how? Dear, God,” he said once he’d come far enough into the room to see the position they were in. “I really don’t think I want to know.”

“No, see, there’s a key…” Spike started, only to have Angel cut him off with a particularly brutal thrust.

“Son of a bitch!”

Angel ignored his outburst with a smile into Spike’s neck and Wesley seemed to have enough manners to keep his trap shut.

“Top drawer of my dresser,” Angel said, finding Spike’s hands with his own and threading their fingers together as he started to fuck him in earnest. “Right hand side, under the t-shirts.”

Spike watched Wesley avert his eyes and cross the room, dip into the dresser and come out with a distinctly ordinary looking key.

“Is this…”

“Yes!” Spike shouted, at the same time Angel growled, “Give us a few more minutes.”

“Angel?” Wesley asked, holding up the key with a frown.

“A few more minutes, Wes.”

“Or you could stay and watch,” Spike added, waggling his eyebrows.

Wesley sighed and crossed to the bed, placed the key between the tips of Angel’s fingers.

“Have fun,” he told them, pointedly ignoring Spike’s suggestion. “But please don’t take your time about it. You’re late for your one o’clock with the head of the local Ethros clan, Angel.”

“I’ll be down soon,” Angel said, and Wesley wisely showed himself out.

“So…” Spike hedged, meeting Angel thrust for thrust now, tugging again at the cuffs. “You gonna let us out of these things?”

Angel smirked then, fingers of his free hand digging into Spike’s palm.

“Get comfortable,” Angel said, a slow smile creeping across his lips. “I’m just getting started.”

END