RATING: Light NC17
SPOILERS: Post NFA
SUMMARY:The world's coming to an end and Spike and Angel are barely surviving together.
CONTENT:a bit of male/male sex and language
DISCLAIMER:I don't own Angel, Buffy, Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel the Series; they're owned by Joss Whedon and Fox or whomever. No copyright infringement intended so please don't sue.
A/N: Written tardily for Spring (I can't say the smoosh word) Spike/Angel challenge which was due June 6. *sigh*
A/N 2: Angel sired Spike 200 years ago just because...
<lj-cut text="Seven Significant Moments...or Maybe Nine">
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
When he thought about it, Spike realized there were seven truly significant moments in his life: the night he was turned; the moment he met Drusilla; the killing of his first Slayer; the night he made the deal with Buffy--which was the catalyst for so many other significant moments; the return of his soul; his death saving the world; and finally the night the world ended in an alley in L.A.
When he was being facetious or was shit-faced he added an eighth moment--the day he discovered the Sex Pistols.
He was shit-faced a lot these days, and he spent most of his time curled in a corner listening to his iPod containing all the remaining punk rock he could find.
It was a time for punk rock. Anarchy. Chaos. Governments falling, rains of blood and fire, cats and dogs living together.
He snickered at that last and lifted a bottle of Jack to his lips. The alcohol dulled the pain of physical injuries received in the latest battle with the demons running rampant across the world, and the emotional loss of everything he held dear.
Or, almost everything...
A noise from across the tiny room in a half-burnt building in shit- hole South Dakota alerted him to the return of the one thing he still had, and he frowned at both the thought and the sight of Angel, his face bruised and scraped, his shirt torn open at the shoulder and the evidence of a nasty bite wound beneath the shredded linen.
Pulling out his earplugs, Spike tried to stand but too much alcohol took its toll and he slumped back down. "What happened?"
Angel scowled and tossed his ruined shirt across the room, snarling, "What does it look like happened?" A string of dead rats followed the shirt and Spike flinched back from them as they landed at his feet. "Eat."
Nose turning up, Spike started to shake his head and his sire was upon him, grabbing him up by the lapels of his duster and smacking him back against the dingy wall.
"Eat," Angel demanded again, glaring down at the smaller vampire, fury on his face. "I spent hours hunting those down."
"Never asked you to," Spike replied belligerently, struggling drunkenly in Angel's grasp. "Sod off!"
He didn't see the punch that drove him into darkness.
*****
Spike was awakened by the feel of lips on his nape. Hands slid down his back and he realized his clothes were missing. Moaning into the pillow beneath his head, he felt warmth slide slowly through him.
He was so rarely warm any more.
Only when Angel touched him like this, which was a rarity.
Angel like to pretend that there was nothing between them but a shared need for survival and a long and often bitter history, but Spike knew better. In the months on the run, Spike had been able to coax him into passion a few times, usually when they were both drunk. Afterwards they'd both chosen not to speak of those moments. Angel because he was in denial. Spike because, for once, he didn't know what to say.
This was the first time Angel had made the first move.
"Only because you're the only one left," Angel murmured before nipping Spike's ear lobe.
Spike didn't believe that for a minute, but if he protested, the hand currently wrapping around his erection would disappear. If Angel needed to justify their physical relationship, Spike would let him.
He knew it was much deeper than that.
Strong, broad fingers lifted him to his knees and he trembled in anticipation, his arms shaking so much he slipped to his elbows. Angel's mouth fastened on his nape again, teeth scraping the sensitive skin, as he positioned himself.
Spike moaned as his eternally tight body spread for his sire's thick cock, then groaned as fangs sank into his neck and he was claimed once again.
*****
Later, Spike lay on his back, lazily suckling from Angel's wrist as his sire played with his cock, jerking it just enough to keep him on the edge of orgasm. Spike squirmed and arched but nothing he did brought him completion. Angel had fucked him slowly for nearly an hour, building both their desires to a fever point, and once he'd come, he'd flipped his childe over and let him feed as he caressed him.
Finally, Spike withdrew his fangs and glowered at his sire. "You gonna let me come any time soon?"
Angel gave him a wolfish grin and shifted on the mattress, swooping easily down on Spike's cock and sucking it between his lips.
Spike howled and bucked and exploded.
*****
"I need you sober."
Spike pried open one eye and scowled at the sight of Angel dressed again and crouching beside him. "For what?"
"Just because."
"Doesn't work for me, Peaches." He closed his eye again.
"Why?"
"Because there's no point in doing anything. If we survive, we survive, and for what? The world is over, or at least it will be soon enough. Once the humans and animals are all dead, where will that leave us? I might as well go out happy."
"Heroes don't give up."
"Never said I was one." Spike rolled onto his side facing away from Angel, ending the conversation.
*****
When he awakened again, Spike found himself manacled to the floor frame of Angel's old Dodge convertible and the car speeding down a deserted highway. "What the fuck?! Unchain me!" He didn't bother asking how Angel had managed to get him into the car. The lump on his head told him all he needed to know.
"No."
"Why the fuck not?"
"If you're chained, you can't find booze. If you can't find booze, you have to stay sober. If you're sober, you'll realize we have to do something."
"There's nothing left to do. No one left to save. Face it, Angel, we fucked up."
The icy look from the older vampire shut him up, and Spike spent the next six hours staring out the window at empty fields and farms.
As the sun began to rise dimly in the east, Angel pulled the car into a barn and closed the doors behind them. Spike watched him test the sturdiness of the central pole and eaves with growing trepidation.
"Oy, I'm fine in the car," he protested as he realized what was coming.
Angel ignored him and opened the passenger car door. Unhooking the manacles from the chassis, he hauled his wayward childe out and hung him from a metal hook on the central pole. Spike swayed on his toes and tried to his kick his sire.
"You look good like that," Angel said with a smirk. "Remember when I chained you in the basement for two weeks until you agreed to bend over willingly for the first time?"
Spike gaped at Angel. He was bringing up their past voluntarily and without shudders of revulsion?
Angel nodded, still smirking, and one of his hands brushed lightly over the bulge in the front of his jeans, which made Spike's cock jerk in his own jeans.
*****
It didn't take two weeks, barely even two hours, and Spike was agreeing to help do something, anything to make some little part of the world right again. The masochist in him loved the helplessness of being chained while being screwed by his favorite hard cock to stay belligerent for long.
The chains came off and a bale of hay made a nice spot for bending over.
The chickens who came into the barn to munch on spilled grain squawked at being disturbed by two males fucking each other, but didn't have long to live anyway.
*****
Spike sat down carefully, his ass a bit raw from Angel's less than gentle attentions, and looked warily at the other vampire who was fiddling with his hair, using what remained of his gel. "I suppose we have to look perfectly groomed to save the world?"
Chuckling, Angel tossed Spike his comb. "You might want to do something with your own hair. It's doing that curly thing that makes you look all soft and girly."
"Fuck you."
"Not in this lifetime. On second thought, leave the curls."
Spike kicked hay at him and dragged the comb through his hair. Pocketing the comb and patting his hair to make sure it was flat, he picked a bit of chicken from between his canine and incisor. "Why do you think they say everything tastes like chicken?"
Angel gaped at his childe in bewilderment and Spike smirked in response. "Where do you come up with some of these?"
"Modern world, peaches, or it was." Rising to his feet, Spike wandered over to the door to peer out at the setting sun. "So, where to now?"
"Chicago. While you've been in a drunken stupor for the last few days I've heard rumors from survivors fleeing from the east, looking for places less attractive to demons. Rumors...of a slayer."
Spike stiffened but didn't turn. He wouldn't get his hopes up. He couldn't. "Could be any of the little bits Willow's spell set free."
"Yeah, could be," Angel replied, his voice even. "But there are also human survivors in Chicago. People are saying that, too, and that the demon population is dropping there. Slayer or no, those survivors could use our help."
Slowly Spike turned and wasn't surprised to see the determination on his sire's face. "Angel...It only delays the inevitable."
"Spike, miracles happen. I came back from hell. I, a vampire, have a son. You came back from the dead. So did Buffy. We've saved the world before. We can do it again, but we can't if we don't try."
"You didn't use to give these motivational speeches. Did you take lessons?"
"Dickhead."
Snickering, Spike flung open the barn doors and let the night spill in. "You had your mouth around it recently, so you'd know."
"Get in the car and find a route out of here. The emptiness reminds me of Galway."
"'Cept for the lack of sheep and big Irish gits." Laughing, Spike evaded Angel's fist and jumped into the car. "Don't forget the manacles."
"Think I'm going to need them again?"
Spike cupped his crotch and rotated his hips on the bench seat. "They make me horny."
"Everything makes you horny."
"Yeah, such a pity."
As Angel shook his head and grabbed up the manacles, Spike rooted the map out of the glove compartment and thought that maybe there was a ninth significant moment in his life because this felt like a turning point in his long and muddled relationship with Angel.
And he was okay with that.
Surprisingly, Angel seemed to be as well.
As they sped off into the night, heading east, Spike scooted across the seat and slid his arm around Angel's shoulders. "You're a ponce, you know."
"You're the one with his arm around another guy."
"Not guys."
"Oh. Yeah." Angel turned a wolfish grin on the other vampire and gave him a hard kiss, forcing a surprised gasp from him. "And maybe it's not just because we're the only two left."
Yeah, definitely number nine.
End