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Title: "Fledgling"
Pairing: Spike/Angelus
Author: Barbara [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
Rating: R
Beta: The lovely and wonderful [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
Prompts: Written for the "ageplay" prompt for [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]'s 2009 Fic Exchange.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to Joss. I just amuse myself with them for fun, not profit.
Summary: They'd played this game before, and each time Spike hated it more.
Notes: Many thanks to [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com] for the idea for the nifty twist on ageplay. This one's for her.
The bars and hotels down near the docks were thick with drink and desperate desire, and that's just how Spike liked them. It made hunting easier, made the blood taste sweeter. Hell, it made him want to ship out and go kill some Nazis with the tasty soldiers who were leaving port and broken-hearted birds behind to mourn and miss them. War was such a bloody good time.
Maybe it was the warmth of his good humor or the borrowed blood still tingling through his veins that made Spike careless. He didn't sense any movement, any sound, until an arm wrapped around his waist as fingers gripped his hair painfully hard, wrenched his head to the side.
"You should really learn to be more careful, William."
Angelus. Spike tensed, his body preparing to fight as he opened his mouth to speak, but not before Angelus's fangs drove into the side of his neck. Spike's body arched as he cried out, struggled instinctively against the hold he knew he couldn't break. So many stories talked about the pleasure to be found in a vampire's bite, but Spike always felt pain. Pain and a sick dread as his struggles weakened, his vision blurred. He leaned heavily against the body behind him, the arm around his waist the only thing keeping him upright, as Angelus took what he wanted. He took too much. Too much before the fangs withdrew and Angelus eased them both to the ground, pulling Spike into his lap.
"You're dying, William."
Even though he didn't need to breathe, Spike couldn't help panting. His throat constricted, chest tightened. He couldn't see, couldn't hear except for a dull buzzing that seemed to vibrate through him. It was just like the night Dru sired him, except that he wasn't really dying. His bladder and bowels hadn't loosened and soiled his pants. Maybe they had, but now, there was nothing in them to spill.
"That's what you wrote in those god-awful poems of yours, isn't it? You wanted to die if you couldn't have your lady's love?" Angelus laughed. "She wanted you to die too, once she got tired of laughing at you."
Spike shook his head. That wasn't him. That was…another person. Another life. William was dead. Dead and gone for decades. Angelus's words shouldn't have been able to touch or trouble Spike, but he gasped as he felt them slide home, sharp as a stake.
"Did you mean it, William?" Angelus's voice was a soft purr, his lips brushing Spike's ear as he spoke. "She did, but I don't think you did." His lips were soft as they kissed Spike's cheek. "Do you want to die? Or do you want something else?" He pressed his hips against Spike, rubbing his erection against him.
Spike's jaw worked, though no sounds came out. He wanted to sink his teeth into Angelus, take back the blood he stole, and run as far away from him as possible.
"Do you want it, William? Do you want to live?"
They'd played this game before, and each time Spike hated it more. Each time, it was harder for him to beg Angelus to bring him back from the brink. Maybe this would be the night he denied Angelus his satisfaction.
"Or do you want me to leave you here, like this, until the sun takes you?"
Even though dawn was hours away, Spike's gaze went to the sky. As much as he hated giving Angelus what he wanted, he hated the thought of burning slowly to death worse. Caught between bad and worse, just like he was all those years ago.
"Do you want to live?"
Beyond words, Spike nodded. Bad was better than worse, even when you had to beg for it. He clung to the words as Angelus undid his pants, then Spike's, which he shoved down to his knees. He lifted him easily, positioning him over his cock.
"Remember, you wanted this." Angelus thrust up as he pulled Spike down onto his cock.
Spike's mouth opened, though his scream was whisper soft. Angelus's bite wasn't the only thing that always hurt. All he could do was take it while Angelus drove up into him over and over again, the thrusts stirring only weak sparks in him when the need for blood was so strong. When Angelus finally spilled inside him, Spike whimpered, opened his mouth. He shook like an addict too long from his last fix. Each time, Spike struggled against a growing wave of panic as Angelus simply waited, stretching out the moment before he pressed his bleeding arm, the skin still savaged from his fangs, to Spike's mouth and murmured, "Drink."
Angelus never gave Spike back all he took from him. Never. He let go of just enough so that Spike could crawl to a spot safe from the sun.
Curled in the shadows, Spike shivered, anger and pain bleeding into each other and feeding off themselves until he wasn't sure where one stopped and the other began. If he was lucky, centuries would pass before he saw Angelus again, before his sire's sire brought him to his knees and made him feel like a fledgling all over again.
Pairing: Spike/Angelus
Author: Barbara [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
Rating: R
Beta: The lovely and wonderful [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]
Prompts: Written for the "ageplay" prompt for [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com]'s 2009 Fic Exchange.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to Joss. I just amuse myself with them for fun, not profit.
Summary: They'd played this game before, and each time Spike hated it more.
Notes: Many thanks to [Bad username or site: @ livejournal.com] for the idea for the nifty twist on ageplay. This one's for her.
The bars and hotels down near the docks were thick with drink and desperate desire, and that's just how Spike liked them. It made hunting easier, made the blood taste sweeter. Hell, it made him want to ship out and go kill some Nazis with the tasty soldiers who were leaving port and broken-hearted birds behind to mourn and miss them. War was such a bloody good time.
Maybe it was the warmth of his good humor or the borrowed blood still tingling through his veins that made Spike careless. He didn't sense any movement, any sound, until an arm wrapped around his waist as fingers gripped his hair painfully hard, wrenched his head to the side.
"You should really learn to be more careful, William."
Angelus. Spike tensed, his body preparing to fight as he opened his mouth to speak, but not before Angelus's fangs drove into the side of his neck. Spike's body arched as he cried out, struggled instinctively against the hold he knew he couldn't break. So many stories talked about the pleasure to be found in a vampire's bite, but Spike always felt pain. Pain and a sick dread as his struggles weakened, his vision blurred. He leaned heavily against the body behind him, the arm around his waist the only thing keeping him upright, as Angelus took what he wanted. He took too much. Too much before the fangs withdrew and Angelus eased them both to the ground, pulling Spike into his lap.
"You're dying, William."
Even though he didn't need to breathe, Spike couldn't help panting. His throat constricted, chest tightened. He couldn't see, couldn't hear except for a dull buzzing that seemed to vibrate through him. It was just like the night Dru sired him, except that he wasn't really dying. His bladder and bowels hadn't loosened and soiled his pants. Maybe they had, but now, there was nothing in them to spill.
"That's what you wrote in those god-awful poems of yours, isn't it? You wanted to die if you couldn't have your lady's love?" Angelus laughed. "She wanted you to die too, once she got tired of laughing at you."
Spike shook his head. That wasn't him. That was…another person. Another life. William was dead. Dead and gone for decades. Angelus's words shouldn't have been able to touch or trouble Spike, but he gasped as he felt them slide home, sharp as a stake.
"Did you mean it, William?" Angelus's voice was a soft purr, his lips brushing Spike's ear as he spoke. "She did, but I don't think you did." His lips were soft as they kissed Spike's cheek. "Do you want to die? Or do you want something else?" He pressed his hips against Spike, rubbing his erection against him.
Spike's jaw worked, though no sounds came out. He wanted to sink his teeth into Angelus, take back the blood he stole, and run as far away from him as possible.
"Do you want it, William? Do you want to live?"
They'd played this game before, and each time Spike hated it more. Each time, it was harder for him to beg Angelus to bring him back from the brink. Maybe this would be the night he denied Angelus his satisfaction.
"Or do you want me to leave you here, like this, until the sun takes you?"
Even though dawn was hours away, Spike's gaze went to the sky. As much as he hated giving Angelus what he wanted, he hated the thought of burning slowly to death worse. Caught between bad and worse, just like he was all those years ago.
"Do you want to live?"
Beyond words, Spike nodded. Bad was better than worse, even when you had to beg for it. He clung to the words as Angelus undid his pants, then Spike's, which he shoved down to his knees. He lifted him easily, positioning him over his cock.
"Remember, you wanted this." Angelus thrust up as he pulled Spike down onto his cock.
Spike's mouth opened, though his scream was whisper soft. Angelus's bite wasn't the only thing that always hurt. All he could do was take it while Angelus drove up into him over and over again, the thrusts stirring only weak sparks in him when the need for blood was so strong. When Angelus finally spilled inside him, Spike whimpered, opened his mouth. He shook like an addict too long from his last fix. Each time, Spike struggled against a growing wave of panic as Angelus simply waited, stretching out the moment before he pressed his bleeding arm, the skin still savaged from his fangs, to Spike's mouth and murmured, "Drink."
Angelus never gave Spike back all he took from him. Never. He let go of just enough so that Spike could crawl to a spot safe from the sun.
Curled in the shadows, Spike shivered, anger and pain bleeding into each other and feeding off themselves until he wasn't sure where one stopped and the other began. If he was lucky, centuries would pass before he saw Angelus again, before his sire's sire brought him to his knees and made him feel like a fledgling all over again.
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