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Spike let himself into his and Angelus’ latest digs, a townhouse in Greenwich Village, courtesy of a demon that had owed Spike a favor. It was still early yet by their standards, barely gone two o’clock. Angelus was still out, would probably be gone for another few hours given his latest “project.” He’d taken one look at the girl in the bar – some blonde that bore a marked resemblance to the Slayer – his grandsire had singled out and barely refrained from snorting.  

Leaving Sunnydale without doing proper justice to the Slayer had galled Angelus and this girl was prep-work, or so Angelus called it, for their return to the Hellmouth.  

He grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator and took a healthy swig. Smiled at remembering how he’d been the level-headed one for once, reminding Angelus that he wasn’t up to taking on the Slayer just yet. Plus, there’d been a second slayer to contend with; that girl looked like she could go a few rounds even without her slayer abilities. He’d have to make sure he’d get a piece of that action when they returned. 

They’d been in New York for a few months now, allowing Angelus a leisurely convalescence. He and his grandsire had left without warning almost two weeks to the day Angelus had been spit back from whatever hell dimension he’d been sent to, stealing out of the mansion just after the sun had set, knowing the Slayer was due to stop by later after her patrol.  

Spike thought about the Slayer every now and then, wondering what she was doing, if she was still pining for “her” Angel.  

He and Angelus had driven through the night, putting as much distance between them and Sunnydale as possible. They’d spent the majority of the time laughing, imagining the look on the Slayer’s face when she encountered the abandoned mansion. How she would probably spent hours frantically searching for any sign of Angelus. They’d debated leaving a pile of ashes, but Angelus hadn’t wanted the girl thinking he was dead, only missing.  

He’d figured at some point she’d break down and enlist the aid of her friends, but Spike had been skeptical. The girl had held her cards close to the vest the entire time Angelus had been leading her on.  

And hadn’t that been a treat?

Angelus had played the martyred Angel to perfection, manipulating the girl, alienating her from her friends. Spike had thought the whole thing a bloody riot. Angelus would make matters worse, affecting faces meant to induce hysterics whenever her back was turned. It was a wonder Spike hadn’t given them up with his barely suppressed laughter as he’d spied on the two from the safety of the shadows.  

Spike had understood his grandsire’s need, his reason for lingering in Sunnydale, rather than disappearing at the first opportunity – even if it had been unwise. Mind games had always been Angelus’ thing. Leading the Slayer on, convinced that she was dealing with Angel, allowed him to keep a modicum of pride. Especially given that day after day his dreams were plagued with his time spent in the hell dimension she’d sent him to, dreams so vivid he would often moan or cry out in his sleep. The aftermath of which he spent trembling in Spike’s arms, cursing the girl to perdition.  

The doorbell rang, pulling Spike from his reverie, and he set his bottle of beer down on the counter and went to open the door.

Gibbs, a demon specializing in human slaves, stood outside looking slightly harried but respectful. Spike spared a brief glance at the girl standing docilely at his side, her face concealed by a hooded cloak, then gestured the handler inside.

Money had already exchanged hands, so it was only a matter of Gibbs relinquishing the girl’s leash – which he did almost immediately after removing her cloak. He took a few minutes showing Spike a few basic commands, gave brief instructions on feedings and the like, then passed over ownership papers, along with a certificate of the girl’s virginity.

Spike’s nostrils flared, already imagining the fun he and Angelus were going to have.

Gibbs refused his perfunctory offer of a drink, citing his need to conclude his other business dealings before leaving New York, so Spike saw the demon to the door.

“Well, luv. Don’t you look a treat?” he smirked, having turned around to admire his latest acquisition.

The girl was scared, but then who wouldn’t be, given that she’d been sold to a vampire as a human pet. She did her best to stand still as his gaze raked her body from head to toe. And what a lovely one it was at that. Firm breasts, narrow waist, legs that went on forever. Smooth porcelain-like skin just begging to be marked. Angelus would be thanking him right properly.

Speaking of… he needed to get the girl dolled up and ready for his grandsire’s return.

~*~*~*~*~

Spike met Angelus at the door, eagerly submitting as he was immediately manhandled to the floor. On nights the two went their separate ways to feed, his grandsire often returned home horny and ready to fuck, and more often than not, the two didn’t make it to the bedroom. At least not until their initial lust was slaked.

Tonight was different, however. Spike had kept mum for an entire week about the girl who was now ensconced upstairs in their bedroom. He was eager to see Angelus’ reaction to their new toy.

Somehow he managed to shove Angelus back a bit so he could get a word in edgewise. Seeing his grandsire’s disgruntled expression, however, made him lean up and attempt to kiss the pout away. Which resulted in several more minutes of kissing and gropes and buttons being undone—

“Angelus… wait…” he finally managed to gasp out.

“Later.”

“But—” Spike tried to get out, but ended up moaning as blunt teeth nibbled on his neck. He writhed helplessly, needing more, the girl now forgotten in the face of his need.

“Angelus… yes… bite me… ple—”

Angelus bit him, more because Spike had asked rather than any real desire to feed just yet. He felt Spike’s hands on the back of his neck, holding him in place, pushing him to take more. His childe was well fed, and Angelus indulged himself for a minute or two before reluctantly pulling back, returning his attention to the mouth that was, even now, starting to pout. He gave Spike a quick, hard peck then stood.

“For once I’d like to make it to the bedroom,” he explained, as he offered Spike a hand up.

“Yeah… about that,” Spike started, finally remembering the girl. He grinned, noticing Angelus’ look, how his nostrils flared, having finally noticed the human in their midst.

“Are they delivering these days?”

Spike snorted. “Not hardly. This one’s special. Picked her up from Gibbs. Girl’s got papers and everything. Come look.”

Angelus arched a brow but followed along as Spike beckoned him upstairs.

The door to their bedroom was open. Candles covered nearly every available surface and provided the only means of light in the room. Spike let Angelus go inside first, and he did, stopping just inside the door.

The girl was standing in the far corner, her back to them. She wore a traditional corset, something Angelus had not seen since having a soul shoved down his throat. Long, dark hair was swept high and artfully arranged on top of her head, leaving the long column of her neck bare.

“Perfect, isn’t she?” Spike whispered in his ear. “A virgin too. You like?”

Angelus nodded. The girl was comely enough. Very comely, he noted as she turned slightly and he was able to see her profile.

“Then, what say we have a little fun?”

Angelus frowned at Spike’s comment. Turning away from the girl, he pinned his childe with a look. He took in Spike’s smug expression and for reasons unknown, reasons he dared not examine too closely, he became very angry.

“You seem pretty pleased with yourself, boy. Are you growing weary of your Sire’s affection? Do you think to offer the girl up as a substitute? Take off for greener pastures?” He rushed forward and grabbed Spike’s shirt, then slammed him against the wall.  “Do you, boy? Answer me!”

Spike shook his head, denying Angelus’ outrageous accusations.

“No, Sire,” Spike answered honestly, at a complete loss as to Angelus’ sudden shift in moods. It wasn’t like they’d never shared a girl – or boy, for that matter – before. Hell, Angelus had usually been the one to suggest it.

“No?” Angelus growled. “Somehow, I’m not convinced.”

“Please, Sire,” Spike whined, unsure what, exactly, he was begging for. The girl had obviously been a bad idea. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think Angelus was jealous. But that was surely just wishful thinking on his part. Angelus did not get jealous; he would have to care about Spike first.

“Please, Sire, what?” Angelus demanded belligerently, slamming Spike’s head against the wall again. “Please, Sire, let me show you that I belong to you? Is that what you were trying to say?”

“No… I mean, yes. Yes. Anything, Sire. The girl doesn’t mean anything. I swear.” Spike forced himself not to cringe as he met the amber-tinged eyes of his grandsire. He leaned forward, attempting to kiss his lips, and froze when Angelus drew back slightly, rebuffing him.

That avenue denied him, Spike dropped to his knees and began fumbling with the fastenings to Angelus’ pants. His grandsire might refuse a kiss, but he wouldn’t refuse a blowjob.

The hiss of the zipper was overly-loud in the quiet room.

Spike didn’t bother with preliminaries; no sooner had Angelus’ cock sprung free than he grabbed it with his hand and swallowed him down. He employed every bit of knowledge acquired over the years to bring Angelus off, tongue and hands working in tandem to maximize his grandsire’s pleasure.

Angelus’ husky moan was music to Spike’s ears. The fingers that found their way into his hair unsettling the slicked-back curls were his cue that Angelus was enjoying himself and about to take control. He relaxed his throat muscles… waiting.

The grip in his hair tightened, but not for the reason Spike had thought. When Angelus pulled out of his mouth, he was all set to make his displeasure known and to hell with the consequences.

“Take off your clothes.”

Spike shut his mouth and did like Angelus demanded.

~*~*~*~*~

“Mine,” Angelus snarled, and Spike felt a shudder go through him yet again. This was the latest in a long list of possessive monikers his grandsire had uttered as he fucked him right there on the floor, but by far this one was the most pleasing.

Angelus wanted him. Was possessive of him. Extremely so, apparently.

Spike yelped and nearly lost his balance as Angelus changed the angle of his thrusts and brushed against his prostrate. Once. Twice. The third time, Spike nearly came.

Which would have been a huge no-no. Bigger than bringing home the girl apparently had been.

Angelus must have guessed his predicament, because his hand closed around his cock, causing Spike to yelp, but for an entirely different reason.

“Sire,” Spike pleaded. He nearly sighed in relief when he felt Angelus drape over his back, easing his grip slightly. The leather and silk felt cool against his bare thighs and back; he’d forgotten that Angelus hadn’t bothered to disrobe.

“Who do you belong to, boy?” Angelus whispered in his ear as his fist went to work on Spike’s cock, matching each thrust of his hips.

“You, sire… you.”

“Come here, girl,” Angelus commanded in that same quiet tone, and it took Spike a minute to remember that she was even in the room, his world having narrowed to him and Angelus the second he dropped to his knees. Spike watched her walk forward without hesitation, though her eyes were wide, frightened. She stopped a few feet in front of them and waited.

Angelus was speaking again, but Spike was having a hard time paying attention, given that Angelus had yet to stop fucking him… or fisting him.

“… isn’t he beautiful?”

The girl nodded and Spike wondered if she actually meant it or was only agreeing because it was the safe thing to do.

“Yes, he is. Isn’t he? But know this, girl. He may fuck you… may suck that cunt of yours and make you come like you never have before. But he belongs to me. Do you understand?”

“Yes, master.”

Angelus smirked. The girl definitely knew her place. He might keep her around for a bit yet.

“Good. Go wait for us on the bed. We’ll join you in a minute.”

The End

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