DISCLAIMER: As I have no truly impressive bank account, I am NOT Joss Whedon.
RATING: NC-17
PAIRING: S/A
DISTRIBUTION: anywhere I said was okay for my slash-y stuuf, and MY site.
FEEDBACK: Makes for a happy Tis, and a happy Tis writes more.
DEDICATIONS: to the Goddess Jeannette, just cuz. And to those who are enjoying the slash-y fic.
NOTES: Um, okay... this series started at some point after Spike told Slutty he loved her, but before the season finales (S5:B and S2:A). Spike left Sunnydale after he was totally shot down, and has been staying at the Hyperion with Angel. Other than that 'little' deviation, this series follows canon, which means most of what happened in the show will happen here... just a bit differently. This part starts a few weeks-- maybe more-- after the last one. And * *= emphasis.
POV: First Angel, then Spike, repeatedly. POVs separated by *s.
*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*
How in the hell did this happen? I mean, okay, I know how it happened, but... What was I thinking?
There we were, the entire group of us. Wes, Cordy, and Gunn had finally started to trust Spike a little bit. We were starting to be able to work as a cohesive unit. My boy wasn't snarling at my 'pet' humans any more, and I think that was mostly due to the fact that he and Gunn hit it off so well.
Not that all of them weren't surprised to come back from their holidays to find my blond-headed childe not only in residence, but very obviously *with* me, but... Once they realized that whatever we got up to on our own time wasn't making me evil again, they got over it. It took a good few weeks, but they *did*.
Then things had to go getting all fucked, what with Lorne coming to me for help with the drachen, and us finding not only that book, but his *cousin*! I mean, I'd kind of been under the impression that he was just another demon, you know? And seeing as he was always so benign-- aside from his attempts at flirtation-- it never occurred to me to read up on his kind. That's probably why I didn't realize he was from another dimension.
But he is. He is, and that fact has never been more clear to me than it is right now, because... here we are. We tried to send Landoc back, and Cordelia disappeared, as well, and... here we are. Trapped in a world that isn't our own, with no book to get us back, and...
Damn, my boy looks amazing in the light if the two suns they have here.
He's so pale, though. So pale, and smooth, and just... God, I want to fuck him. Or be fucked by him. Either way. Oh, hell, *both*.
* * *
Sodding Angel with his sodding overwhelming concern for those prats of his. This is all his fault! Like I ever signed on for jumping fucking dimensions in the first place! Still, couldn't let him run off somewhere like this without me, could I? He's my great pouf of a Sire, after all, and... what with that law firm being out for blood and all, and me unable to harm humans... And that's just a sack of bullshit, I know.
I'm not here because I'm worried about myself. I'm here because of him. I'm here because... Wussy seemed to think he knew what was going on, and that's a better indication that things are gonna get screwed than anything else I've ever seen. That's why I insisted on coming along, and it's a bloody good thing I did, 'cause it seems like we're trapped here, and all because of the Prom Queen. Oh, sorry. *May* Queen.
The sodding, sorry, sad slitch somehow managed to fuck things up yet again, and... Still, never saw Broody in the sun before. Never thought I would, unless we ended up going insane and embarking on some bizarre suicide pact. It's a fucking brilliant sight to behold.
Still, that's got nothing to do with the fact that we're stuck here, but... "Not bad, hey?" I say quietly, and I know Gunn hears me, because he's got that little crease going between his eyebrows when he notices that I'm talking about Soul-y the Wonder Git.
He shakes his head like he's never even considered the appeal of my Sire's massive form, but that's just fine. Don't want the only human of the group who I can actually stand to move to the top of my 'must kill' list, after all, so I just smirk and make a very sedate comment about how Angel's lips look wrapped around my cock, and Thugly looks all queasy all of a sudden. Just as well, 'cause I'm fairly certain he's got a thing for the cheerleader.
So does Wussy, of course, but if *I* were her, I'd go for the vampire hunter. He's an *action* kind of guy; not a *watcher*. Not my decision to make, though, and... honestly, watching Angel prancing around like the magnificent pouf he is is making me wish the humans *and* the swish-y demon bloke were miles away.
Sunlight, and warmth, and my Sire. Now *there's* a fantasy worth having.
Not that I don't love moonlight and darkness and Angel, but... been there. Done that. And if he keeps jumping around like a puppy on crack, I'm not gonna care that there are witnesses about. Hell, I don't care *now*, but... Angel's a shy one, he is. All 'No, Spike, not here in the lobby; someone might *see*'. Like it's not his Hotel to begin with.
But he's rolling about in the grass, and I can see the pollen from the wildflowers sticking to his clothes, and fuck me if he's not gonna get shagged sometime *very* soon.
He may be a big sodding ponce, but he's my Sire none the less, and my lover as well, and... Oh...
Fuck the fact that Lorne, Gunn, and Wussy are here, because Angel's just gotten to his knees, and... he's waggling his ass, and fuck me if I'm gonna ignore that sort of an invitation, whether it's intentional or not.
Oh, yeah, Angel's about to get *fucked*. Wonder if he knows it yet.
* * *
I never thought my boy could be so slow on the uptake; not even when I tried to convince myself he was a moron. I've been on the ground, ass in the air, for at least five minutes now, and he's still just watching me like a fool.
As if I'd be acting this way if he wasn't here. No, this entire display has been for his benefit. I think it's the warmth of the sunlight that's making me disregard the fact that our friends and co-workers are here, but... Aside from Lorne, I think they have a pretty good idea of what Spike and I get up to when they're not around, and... I don't really think Lorne is going to be surprised. He's been hitting on Spike since the day he met him, after all, and I can't even begin to explain how much I love it that my boy just ignores him.
And that one small phrase describes it all perfectly. *My* *boy*. Spike is mine. Always has been. But... ever since the night he took me, I've been just as much his. It's a calming, soothing feeling, even with all the passion and wickedness we share. I belong somewhere, just as he does, and where we each belong is... with the other.
I love him more now than I ever thought was possible, and... that's why it didn't work between me and the Slayer. Buffy, I mean. There was something missing, and that something was... my boy. She's blonde, though; I have to give her that, but... it was just too strange to work. Souled or not, I'm still a demon, and that part of me was constantly screaming for me to just kill 'the bitch', and move on.
I never thought I'd say this-- not even in my own mind-- but... I'm glad.
That doesn't matter at the moment, though, because I can feel my childe's eyes on me. "Get your ass over here," I mutter, and I know he can hear me.
* * *
Well, and who am I to deny an order from my Sire? At least one that's entirely in keeping with my own desires. My eyes are pinned to that tight, firm ass, and even though it's encased in those slacks of his, I know exactly what's beneath them, and... "Why don't you prats see about hiding the car," I say, not caring in the slightest that my voice is all trembly, "And take your time about it."
Gunn and the Watcher-that-was understand what I'm saying right off the bat, but the prancy green git seems to be frozen in place. "Move it," I demand, 'cause damned if I'm gonna shag or be shagged while the bad Liberace impersonator's watching. "Gunn!" I say loudly, when the red-eyed nancy-boy doesn't move.
Good thing the tall black man knows me well enough to hear my irritation, because I *can* still hurt demons. Don't really *want* to in this case, 'cause I'm fairly sure Angel'd get upset, and that would seriously affect my current plans. Fortunately, my pet human drags the sodding bastard away, so there's no longer an issue of any kind.
My boots drag through the long grass, but even so, I'm at Angel's side in a matter of moments, and "Peaches," I purr, kneeling beside him. My hand moves swiftly over that tight hard ass of his, my fingers spread wide, and I take a huge fistfull of that cool, strong muscle tightly. "How do you want to do this, pet?" I say, 'cause I'm gonna leave it up to him. Shagging, getting shagged... either way's a beautiful thing with my poncey git of a Sire.
* * *
He's asking me? Well, fuck. Not that I don't have my preferences, but this is a whole other world, right? I don't know; I guess I thought maybe... the whole Sire and childe thing might not matter so much here. I guess I was wrong, though.
It's less than a moment's effort before I'm on my knees beside him, his hand still hard on my ass, and... damn, he's beautiful. No-one's ever been as fucking glorious as Spike. He knows it, too. It's why he's got such an attitude, after all.
Still, I can't help but run my fingers up his sides, and that small shiver just beneath his skin is just as intriguing as it ever was. I love it that I can affect him this way. But I'm not playing, here, or not right now, anyway. He's somehow made everyone go away-- God knows how-- and I'm definitely going to take advantage of that little fact.
So my fingers finally end up wound in his hair, and his lips are so pouty I just can't keep myself from them. My mouth crashes down on his, my tongue diving deep into that wet, cool cavern, and when he's suddenly pressed tight to me, I can't help but groan. "Spike..." I say, the word swallowed by his mouth.
* * *
And the magnificent pouf is actually kissing me. Not that I'm complaining, mind. But... somehow, I wasn't expecting this to be one of those 'tender' moments, what with the whole sunlight thing. Guess it makes sense, though, what with as much of a prancing git as he is. "Angel..."
His name slips from me before I even know it's coming, but that's okay, too, because he's pressed right up against me, which is a good thing, but he's wearing far too many clothes, which just... sucks.
My fingers slip under his shirt, and I trace the long, sleek muscles of his back, and... Oh, yeah, Poufy the Wonder-Git's gonna get shagged *real* soon. Of course, so am I, if his fingers moving down the back of my jeans are any indication. They'd *better* be.
Somehow, we manage to get naked without tearing any cloth. It's almost disappointing, but seeing as we don't know that they even *have* clothes here, I suppose it's all right. And he's right stunning in sunlight, but then again, I knew he would be. Acres and acres of pale, smooth skin, and it's all mine.
Fuck, I love him, not that I'll ever say so. Have a feeling, I do, and... what if I tell him, and he cares enough that it gives him that moment of bliss? Don't want that sodding fuck-wad he was the last time to come back on me, do I? Course, I could be wrong about that. I mean, maybe Broody could give a shit about how I feel. Doubt it, though. He's entirely too sensitive.
I think he knows, though, so that's just fine. And he really *does* look fucking marvelous, stark naked against the background of green grass and flowering whatevers, his cock thick and hard, and just begging for my touch. "Sire," I growl, even as I duck down and take the tip of that seeping shaft between my lips.
* * *
Oh, God... He's got the best mouth ever. Hell, it amazes me that he was entirely pure when I turned him, and this is how he's turned out. My boy is a God damned sexual fucking artist. And as long as he wants to practice his craft on me, I'm more than happy to let him.
My hands slide into his hair, and it's all I can do not to cum as I watch my cock moving in and out of those tight, full lips. His eyes are wide, and I can feel the smirk he'd be wearing if his mouth wasn't so full of me, and there's no fucking way that I'm going to settle for just his throat. I want him. I want to be buried deep inside that perfect ass of his when I cum, and... Fortunately, I don't think he's going to have a problem with that.
* * *
Yeah, Sire, that's the way... Want you, I do; in any way I can have you. Hell, *every* way!
My entire body is twitching, even while he pulls my lips from that bloody gorgeous cock of his, and when he pulls me against him and I feel his sun-warmed skin? Well, let's just say there's nothing I'm not willing to do for him. With him. To him. Whatever.
But he seems to have some sort of idea of his own, because he's pushing me back onto the rich, green-covered earth, and fuck me if I'm not letting him. Guess he's decided, and... looks like I'm getting shagged, all right.
Not a problem. Not even slightly. It's been almost twelve hours since I've felt that big cock of his plunging into me, so... that's about twelve hours too many, right?
Still, can't let him know just how much of a sodding ponce I've become, can I? Might make him think I'm easy, or pathetic, or something. Like the whole 'can't bite' thing doesn't make me pitiful enough. So when he leans over me, I growl, and push him hard.
My lips form a wicked grin, and I'm suddenly looking down at him, one knee between his legs, pressed up against his swollen sac. One hand slips to his cock, fingers encircling it roughly. "What exactly did you have in mind, Peaches?" I say.
* * *
Pretty much anything, boy, is what I'm thinking, but damned if I'm going to tell him that. But his leg is rubbing against me, and his hand feels so... "Uhhhnnngggg..."
Yeah, my childe's got me distinctly non-verbal, and it only gets worse when that hand releases my pulsing shaft and slips down to my ass. His fingers move almost delicately over my hole, but delicate isn't what I'm interested at the moment, and when I feel one lacquered tip prodding lightly at me, I shift, driving hard onto it.
I can't believe it's only been a month or so since the night he chained me up and introduced me to the wonders of what he can do to me, but that's okay, because we've definitely been making up for lost time, and fuck if we're not going to make up for more right now. "Spike..." I hiss, rocking hard against his hand.
* * *
Oh, Poncey's impatient, is he? Well, that's all right, 'cause so am I. He's rammed himself down on my index finger, but I'm not complaining. Of course, *he* might be soon, because neither of us thought to bring any lube to this sodding dimension, but... Oh, well. It'll be a new experience for him, won't it?
He grunts almost wildly when I force another finger in him to join the first, but I think it's the third digit that's really got him squirming. In fact, I'm *sure* of it, and I can't help throbbing hard when he starts bleeding just a little.
Sire's blood is the most fucking amazing thing in the world-- *any* world. Just the smell of it is almost enough to have me shooting great spurts of cum all over his rippling stomach. Almost. But I'm not prepared to let this end quite yet, so I move my hand faster, and fuck me if he's not bucking up into my movements.
Seems the soul-having git *likes* the lack of lubricant. The pain must appeal to his demon, which makes me think that maybe a little *more* pain would be a good thing for him, so "On your knees, pet," I tell him, pulling my blood-streaked fingers from that perfect fucking hole of his.
He looks at me like he's not sure he heard me right, and I growl slightly. "Knees," I say again, and "*Now*."
Well, well, well. Gotta file that particular tone away for later use, 'cause fuck me if he didn't just move almost faster than I could see. I really want to laugh at the fact that he's so ready to be dominated, but I'll do that later. Right now, that firm, peasant-y ass waggling in front of me is entirely too interesting to allow for amusement.
I move closer, one hand pushing his legs further apart while the other returns to that sodding tight hole of his. Oh, yeah, Sire's gonna get *fucked*, all right, but...
Never *did* pay him back for that *fisting*, did I?
* * *
Christ, I never even imagined being with my boy in the sun, but... this is too good to miss. His fingers are so hard and long, plunging deep into my ass, and... Okay, that kind of hurt. Guess that's what happens when we don't have any lube. Still, it feels good.
I know I'm bleeding a little, but what the fuck. We're vampires, right? And he's my childe, so... oh. Yeah. Third finger. "Uhhhhnnnnngggghhhh..."
Jesus fuck, my boy's amazing! I wish he'd stop with the foreplay, though. I just... want him. I want him hard and deep inside me, and then I want to be hard and deep inside *him*. I hope the guys stay wherever the hell he sent them; I really do, because I don't think this is something I want them to see, and "*Fuck*!"
What the hell is he thinking? *Four* fingers? Jesus! He should know better than that! I mean, three is plenty to prepare me for... "Oh... *God*!" And this is about payback, isn't it? He's trying to get back at me for that first night, and "*Shit*!" Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow...
* * *
Oh, yeah, Peaches, moan some more. Just the sounds he's making have me throbbing harder than I think I ever have. Add in the sight of my fingers moving in and out of that tiny fucking anus of his, and the smell of his sodding powerful blood, and... I have to grab hard at the base of my cock, just to hold off.
Of course, maybe holding back isn't the best idea, and when he grunts again, his asshole twitching wildly, I let go, and my back arches. I know my eyes are rolled back, but so what? I've got almost my entire hand in the Pouf's ass, after all, and... Oh... "Angel!" I cry, even as I explode into my own palm.
Don't know quite what he's thinking, but then again, don't have to. *I'm* in control for the moment, so I move my cum-filled hand over his ass, and let my fingers separate.
Watching my own jism drip down his crack, onto the fingers I've still got in him is beautiful. His ass should *always* be covered in my cum. But that's not the purpose at the moment, because if I'm gonna get the rest of my hand into Poufy's ass, that lubrication is necessary.
He's groaning and growling, but he's not trying to pull away, so I move my fingers slowly now, working my slick fluids into him, and... Yeah, that's it, Sire. Take it, you great prancey bastard.
* * *
Oh, God. He came. He came, and I have no illusions about what that is I feel dribbling down my ass. Still, it's... making this easier for me, and at least he's using *something*, which is more than I did for him. I owe him this, and I know it, and that's the only reason I haven't stopped him.
"*Fuck*!" I cry again, because he's moving so slowly now, it's almost like he's being tender. Maybe he doesn't want to hurt me, but... I really don't think this is going to be fun. I mean, that long cock of his is one thing, but... while his hands may not be as big as mine, they're not exactly *small*, either, and... "Guhhhhggghhhhh...."
* * *
Like that sound, I do. Not as much as seeing his asshole stretched wide, though. One more slow thrust, I think, and... Oh, yeah, that's my thumb slipping in.
My other hand grabs onto his hip, even as I force my fingers closed inside him, and... I get it, now. Just seeing him tight around my wrist, knowing no-one's ever touched him this way. It's staggering. It's astonishing. It's about *trust*.
He trusts me. Me! William the fucking Bloody! And this is how he's showing it. He trusts me not to hurt him *too* much, but... the sodding git also trusts me to make this as good for him as I can, and that's just fine. I *will*. I'll make it so good he'll be begging me to do it again.
Well, maybe not, because he's bleeding more than I've ever seen him do, but he's holding still, so maybe it's not as bad as I think. There's a power to this. A deep, rich thrill that my Sire's letting me do this, and... Oh.
My wrist slides deeper into him, and he groans again. I can smell a slight tinge of salt in the air, and it isn't blood-salt. No, it smells like... tears? Fuck. I've made him cry.
But if I stop now, I don't think he'll let me in him ever again, so... I twist my wrist a bit, and when he shudders and tenses, and moans wildly, I know I've hit just the right spot. "I'm not gonna stop, pet," I murmur, concentrating on that one location.
* * *
Dear lord, this fucking *hurts*! But I think he needs this, and... "Ahhh...." Oh, God, Spike, do that again! Just like that! Yes....
And I know now why he came when I forced my own fist deep into him, because this is so fucking intense, it's unbelievable! Oh, God.
"Don't..." I manage to squeeze out, in response to his barely heard words, and I actually mean it. I don't want him to stop; not yet. Neither does my demon. It's the pain that's got Angelus reeling, but it's the pleasure, and the knowledge that I owe him this that has *me* pulsing desperately.
And the back of his hand is meeting that place repeatedly, and he's moaning wildly in my ear, and God, I just want... I want... "God!" I shout, spewing long, hard streams of seed onto the sunlit grass.
* * *
Never again. I'll never force my fist into him ever again, regardless of what I thought a few minutes ago. Okay, he came from it, but... he's bleeding so much, it's not even funny, and I don't think he really liked it, even though he *did* cum.
But he still let me do it, and that's what's got me all fucking confused, because... Why? Why would my great prancing pouf of a brooding Sire let me do that, aside from the whole trust thing? I mean, I know why I let *him*, but... Oh.
I know my eyes are wide, even as I pull my hand from his bloody opening, but that's only right, because... he loves me. He must. It's the only possible explanation. The sodding ponce *loves* me!
It's true. He really does, and it's more than I ever hoped for. I mean, I knew he *wanted* me, because... well, cock in my ass repeatedly, and my cock in *his*. But love? Well, yeah.
It's not something I want to talk about, though, so I push him flat onto his belly. I can't help licking the blood from my hand, even as I stoke his spine with the other, and he's still shuddering, skin twitching as the small tremors wrack his body. "'S'all right, Peaches," I say softly, glad to realize that that tears-scent is gone. I want to comfort him, but that's not a terribly demon-y thing to be thinking, is it?
No, I should be jumping about from pure delight at hurting him and making him like it even a little, but... I can't. Maybe it's the chip in my head; maybe it's all the time I've spent with those fucking humans. Whatever it is, I just... want to make him feel better. It's a fucking crushing blow to my ego, it is.
* * *
It's all right? That's all he has to say? I'd argue, but my entire body is aching... and wanting more. Not of his fist, but... God, I still want him. I want to feel him on me, and in me. I want to feel him straining beneath me, his anus clenched tight around my cock. I want him. That's all there is to it. I want him, and... the way he's acting makes that seem like something that isn't going to happen, which is just... unacceptable.
There's only one thing I can think of to say that might make things better, and I don't even hesitate. "Mine," I tell him, and my voice is so soft, so small, that I'm not even sure he hears me. But then his fingers still on my back, and I can feel the question in the air. "You," I say, and "Mine."
It's not an 'I love you', but it's the next best thing, because even though he knows he belongs to me, I haven't told him so in over a hundred years. "Mine," I say once more, and those fingers are moving on my skin again, and I sigh. My childe. My boy. My greatest joy and greatest frustration, over the years. Mine. "Drink, childe," I say, offering him that bond we've always had between us.
* * *
He really does. The great swishy bitch really does love me. I'm his, and he admits it. 'Course, he's mine, too, what with me being the one who popped that cherry of his. Still, it makes me feel all... manly, that the magnificent Pouf is willing to claim me out loud. Time was, I couldn't have pulled that one word from him with a bloody great grappling hook. 'Mine'. Small word. Huge meaning.
But he wants me to drink him, and I want that, too, but... My eyes move swiftly over his big, pale body, and I smile just a little wickedly. Well, okay, a *lot* wickedly. No need to bite him; he's already bleeding, in't he?
* * *
If vampires could faint, I'd be swooning like a girl right now, because I didn't think he'd... "Ohhhh..." that's his tongue!
I love it when he licks me after sex, but somehow, this just never occurred to me. I mean, I guess I thought part of the appeal was tasting himself mixed with me; God knows that's what I love about doing it to him, but... "Spike!"
Oh, Jesus, I don't think he's ever had his tongue this deep inside me. Of course, I've never been stretched like this before... okay, torn. But God, this feels so... "Uhhhnnnggghhhh..."
I can feel him throbbing against my calf, and fuck if I'm not hard against the grass, myself, and... My hips are rocking, without any direction from me, and when I hear his muttered "Sire?", I nod. I want him so much, it's almost painful.
* * *
Looks like I'm gonna do a bit of shagging after all. Good thing, too, 'cause I wasn't really fancying a wank.
My lips slide slowly up his spine, finally stopping at the nape of his neck, and I think about asking him if he's sure, but that would make me just as much of a pitiful pouf as he is, so I just... press my cock against that deep crack of his, shifting from side to side, and when he raises his hips just a bit, I pull back and...
"Angel..." I'm moaning, I know, but who could fucking blame me? And his asshole is tightening around me, even with the whole fisting episode, and... Fuck, nothing else has ever felt this good, with the possible exception of his cock deep inside me. Bit of a toss-up, that. Still, I can't think too much about that right now, because he's pushing against the ground, those thick arms of his flexing mightily as he levers us both up, so I finally rest on my knees, fingers hard on his hips as I thrust deeply... fully... slowly within him.
He's a fucking dream, my Sire is.
* * *
Oh, and this totally makes up for the pain. Seriously. I love the way he feels, and the small sound he makes every time he's all the way inside me. I love the bruises I'm going to have from his fingers, and his incredible aim. He knows exactly where that gland is now, and fuck if he doesn't meet it every time, and I can barely hold myself back.
I do, though, because I'm not cumming without him. I need to feel him throbbing and pulsing in me, pumping me full of everything he is. Especially after what happened before. I need to feel him cum, if only so I'll be sure that he's not repulsed by what I let him do to me... By what I did to him that first night we renewed our relationship.
So I rock back into his steadily increasing thrusts, my eyes wide from the effort of holding on, and when he finally makes that sound I love so much, and I feel him swelling impossibly larger inside me, I'm more than ready, myself. "Spike!" I shout, and his own cry joins my voice, melding with it in much the same way our bodies have done.
* * *
And the great poncey bugger's been fucked yet again, only *this* time, in the right way. I love cumming in that tight, firm ass of his; love watching my fluids drip from his reddened hole. And I love the way every muscle in his back twitches and relaxes repeatedly. It's one sure sign the Pouf's not only cum, but cum hard.
I'm almost tempted to let things rest, but somehow, this just doesn't feel complete yet, so I slide my hand around his solid waist, and grab ahold of that softening cock of his. I can't help chuckling darkly when he jumps just a bit, but... "Didn't think that was *it*, did you, Peaches?"
* * *
Okay, so he's trying to fuck me to death. Of course, he's too late, what with the whole 'been dead for two and a half centuries' thing. I'll still let him try, though.
I swear to God, if I wasn't a vampire, I'd be just... a puddle of goo on the sun-lit ground. Good thing I *am* one-- a vampire, that is. Especially when his hands on me force me onto the grass, rolling me over while they do.
He has the most amazing eyes. I've never seen them in sunlight before, but they're so blue, it's stunning. I think I could just stay here and stare into them forever.
That's obviously not what he has in mind, though, because he's cocked that scarred eyebrow at me, and there's an almost challenging look on his face. I gasp slightly when he shifts, positioning his tight anus at the tip of my suddenly raring-to-go cock, and when he slams himself down on me? "God!" I cry.
It's like coming home.
It doesn't matter, what's happened already. It doesn't matter at all. The only thing that matters is this moment, this desperate kiss of bodies as we grunt, and heave, and moan.
He's my world, even more than the rotating orb I was birthed on is, and if we never get back to Los Angeles...? Well, as long as Spike's with me, I don't think I'll care too much.
"Spike..." I growl, and "mine..." as I explode deep inside him.
End.