Pairing: Spike/Angel
Rating: NC-17 overall
Summary: sequel to Telling Him
Distribution: redssoulmates
Feedback: No feedback..no fic. Lots of feedback..I write more. I thrive on it.
Disclaimer: Don't sue. I don't own any of the characters. I don't make any money from it. All credit goes to Joss.
Spoilers: None really. Angel season 5 spoilers.
Notes: Angel is Spike's sire, not Drusilla, Spike is not a ghost
Warnings: language, sexual situations, m/m, blood play
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Angel walked through the night air for about an hour before heading back to the apartment. His mind was racing. Memory after memory assaulted his thoughts. Memories of when he was with 'his' William in the past. Memories of the soul. The 'so called' hate between them and now the present day. He could hear Spike's words echoing through his mind. 'I'm not leaving. Not when there's a chance I'll be by your side once again.'
So what did he do? He left. Just like when he left Spike with Drusilla after he got the soul. Just like when he walked away from every potential moment between them. Now he didn't even know if Spike was there anymore. Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, he walked in the elevator and pressed the button, letting it carry him to his floor.
Taking a deep unneeded breath, Angel entered the apartment not seeing Spike where he had left him. Every hope in him faltered at that moment. He slid off his jacket, hanging it on a hanger when the scent hit him. It was a mixture of salt with the scent of his childe. Tears. Quickly he turned around, following the scent. It continued to get stronger and stronger until it led him to Spike. Angel's eyes grazed over his childe. Spike was lying in his bed with his jeans on but not much of anything else. He had faded tear tracks down his face. Angel knew he had caused that.
He continued to watch him. He seemed peaceful. Beautiful. And Angel was afraid to awake him. He wasn't looking forward to the fighting. The words. Or the punches he was sure that would follow. Slipping off his own shoes and shirt, he walked over to the other side of the bed and quietly climbed in.
The moment his body touched the mattress, he closed his eyes and waited. He expected Spike to wake up and fight him like so many times before. After a few moments of silence, he opened his eyes seeing his childe still sleeping. He exhaled the breath that had caught in his throat and layed on his side, continuing to watch his childe.
Spike had climbed into Angel's bed for the mere satisfaction of scent. Everything in the room smelled of his Sire. And right now that was the only thing he had to cling onto. He let the scent of him practically lull him to sleep. Somewhere deep in his sleep, he thought he felt the bed dip as if someone had climbed in with him. But he didn't want to wake up from the dream he was having. He didn't want to wake up and face the harsh reality that Angel had left once again. Without realizing it, Spike moved closer to the body that was currently occupying the bed with him.
Angel felt Spike move closer to him. His body pressing against his. And for a brief moment, Angel wasn't sure how to react to it. He wanted to take comfort in the innocent touch. He wanted to touch him, to taste him, and to lose himself in Spike. But he wasn't Angelus. He still wanted his childe but he wanted his childe to want him back. He wanted Spike to need him. Even to crave him. Just as he was about to close his eyes, he heard Spike's voice.
Spike tried to move closer. He felt the need to. His face fell in the crook of Angel's neck. "Sire," he mumbled.
And that one word changed everything. That one word held so much meaning. Angel wrapped his arms around Spike, holding him close, leaning his mouth down to his ear. "Ssh, boy. I've got ya. I'm never letting you go."