The Second Catalyst

by Spikeskat

Spike and Angel sat side by side on the edge of Angel’s desk. 

“So? What? We just have to live with it? Get on with our lives?” 

“’fraid so.” 

Spike sighed, crossed his arms over his chest and stared out the window. “Fine. No problem. I was planning on doing that anyway.” 

Angel looked at Spike out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah. Me too.” 

“Actually, I’m doing it right now. As we speak; I’m moving on.” 

“Moving on,” Angel echoed. 

“Oh yeah.” 

“Right now.” 

“Moving.” 

“Drink?” 

“Thought you’d bloody well never ask.” Spike pushed away from the desk and started walking towards Angel’s private elevator. “And none of them sissy bottles that were on the bloody airplane. I’ve a mind to get falling down drunk this time.” 

Angel snorted and stood as well. Though, for once, he actually agreed with Spike’s plan. Drunk sounded like a damn good idea. 

Together, they rode the elevator in silence, both lost in thought. Neither noticed the quiet, and when the doors opened a moment later, it took them a minute to realize that they’d reached their destination. 

Spike shook himself visually, banishing the images of Buffy and the Immortal from his mind. He was halfway to the bar when Angel’s voice rang out. 

“Leave me the Lagavulin.” 

“Like it bloody well matters. We’re going for quantity here, Peaches, not quality. I’m sure before the night is through, we’ll ‘ave gone through the lot and gone looking for… more…” His voice trailed off at seeing first hand the sheer quantity of alcohol tucked behind the bar. “Hello, Jack. Come to poppa.” Chuckling as he grabbed both a bottle of Jack Daniels and Angel’s Lagavulin. 

Angel was waiting for him on the couch, uncharacteristically sprawled out on the leather cushions, one foot propped up on the coffee table. 

“Here,” Spike called out, and tossed Angel his bottle of single malt whisky. 

Angel popped the top, not bothering with a glass, and had taken a healthy swig before Spike shrugged out of his duster and mimicked his pose on the other end of the couch. His brows drew together upon seeing the scuffed up Docs resting on his table, but figured since he was doing the same thing, he couldn’t exactly call the vamp on it. 

Spike’s smirk said he realized as much. 

“Where’s the remote?” Spike asked. 

Angel felt along the cushions until his hand closed around the square remote console. He tossed it to Spike, knowing without bothering to look how Spike’s eyes had probably widened upon seeing the hi-tech gadget. It was most likely a mistake on his part giving Spike control of virtually every electronic device in his suite, but he was too busy trying to drink himself into oblivion to really care. 

Though, when Spike started playing with the lighting – on off on off – and the fireplace – low flame high flame low flame – and not just changing the stations on the television, he nearly rethought his decision and reclaimed his remote. Instead, he finished off his whisky in record time and returned to the bar for a new bottle. 

When he turned back around, Angel’s eyes went wide, and he felt his cock start to sit up and take notice. Spike had stripped down to just his jeans; his legs were splayed wide with the near-empty bottle of Jack Daniels tucked against his inner thigh. 

“Bring me another one too,” Spike called out, not bothering to look Angel’s way, eyes glued to the television screen – which Angel counted as a good thing since it afforded him the opportunity to close his mouth and get his emotions under control. He knew he’d never hear the end of it if Spike thought he was turned on by the picture Spike made. 

Backtracking a few steps, Angel reached behind the counter and grabbed the first bottle his hands closed around: vodka. Absolut. He shrugged. ‘It’ll do.’ 

Angel slid back into his seat and handed Spike his bottle. Spike quirked his brow at the clear bottle, but, much like Angel had, shrugged and took it without comment. 

It went like that for some time. Whichever one finished their bottle first was responsible for bringing back two, the “loser” usually ending up with the “crap” alcohol. When Angel was given Kahlua by a smirking Spike, he vowed never to lose again, and he gulped down the foul-tasting drink determined to be the first to rise and chose his own bottle – much to the amazement of the vamp seated next to him. 

Spike was midway through his ninth bottle when he paused and looked at Angel. At some point during the night, Angel had gotten comfortable as well, shrugging out of shirt and shoes and garbed in just his designer slacks. The lights and television had been turned off; the only thing illuminating the room was the fireplace. Music played in the background, something soft and unobtrusive. 

“Don’t know what we’re so bloody upset about, Peaches. T’weren’t like we didn’t benefit from the bloke’s appearance last time.” 

“The man fornicated with our women. Our women. Concurrently! Wore them out, he did.” 

“Yeah,” Spike agreed. His lips curved into a smile as he remembered what happened after the girls had gone off to have a bath. 

Angel heard the wistful tone in Spike’s voice and turned to look his way. Seeing the expression on Spike’s face, his cock twitched again; he, too, recalled what happened that night. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

Angelus and William charged the door but collided with an invisible force field. 

“You’re not on here,” the bouncer announced, indicating the list he held. “You’re not going in there. Piss off!”

Angelus growled then stalked off, William hot on his heels.

“He mocks us at every turn,” Angelus snarled.

“Yeah! The man has no sense of indecency. You remember Frankfurt? He hatches the Rathruhn egg personally and just decides to give those nuns safe passage.” 

“Those were my nuns!”

“Yeah. Nuns are your thing. Everybody knows that. They respect it. They respect us.”

“We are the reason men fear the night.” Angelus turned around, shouting, “This isn’t over yet, Immortal! This’ll never be over!” Afterwards, he looked at William and snapped, “Come on. I need a good kill to take my mind off of things.” 

William’s eyes gleamed; he so loved the way Angelus hunted. And, given his elder’s mood, tonight was bound to be especially vicious. 

~*~ 

As a hunting pair, they’d killed four humans before cornering their latest victim – a lanky youth barely out of his teens – between the two of them. 

“Please don’t kill me,” the boy begged. “I’ll do whatever you want.” 

Angelus’ eyes widened as the boy immediately dropped to his knees before he could say, or do, anything and began mouthing his crotch. He was already hard from the hunt, and the boy’s actions made his cock swell that much more. Warm hands fumbled with his breeches and Angelus swallowed back a moan as his cock was briefly exposed to the night air then eagerly consumed by the boy’s hot mouth. 

“Bloody hell,” William whispered, and Angelus seconded the sentiment. The feeling was indescribable, better than fucking Drusilla before he turned her. The boy was obviously experienced, easily taking Angelus’ full measure with no signs of choking. 

Angelus looked up to see William staring intently, stroking himself in time with the boy’s movements. William licked his lips and Angelus wondered what it would feel like to have his childe’s lips on him instead. He moaned and grabbed the boy’s head, imagined it was William as he fucked the human’s mouth. 

“Angelus.” 

His name whispered by William was enough to send him over the edge. That, and the sweet tang of his childe’s release. He came down the boy’s throat, not surprised when every last bit of his spend was swallowed. 

“Not bad, boy,” Angelus managed to get out, though the disdain he was hoping to inject in his tone just wasn’t there. “Beat it, before I change my mind.” 

Angelus heard the boy scramble to his feet and escape the alley, though he didn’t bother to look. His eyes were too busy staring at William. William with his pants shoved down to his thighs, one arm holding his shirt tails up out of the way, the other slowly stroking his cock in the aftermath of his release. 

He made a pretty picture, his childe did, and later he’d draw William just like he was – sated, his body leaning back against the wall for support. 

For now, he stalked over to the younger vamp, his pants still open, cock fully exposed. He invaded William’s personal space, forcing their groins in intimate contact with the other. Angelus bit back a groan; William had no such compunction. 

“Sire,” he hissed as Angelus thrust against him, his voice filled with awe and respect – for once – in the face of his pleasure. Angelus rather liked the deferential moniker and vowed he’d have William say it more often, preferably with the two of them doing much like they were. 

Angelus fisted one hand in William’s hair and forced his head back. 

“’m gonna kiss ye now, m’boy.” 

And he did so before William could object. 

~*~*~*~*~ 

“Once more, for old time’s sake?” 

Spike set his half-drunk bottle on the side table and slid to his knees beside the couch. Began crawling as Angel spoke. 

“Spike—I don’t think—” 

“Don’t think. Just feel,” Spike told him as he mouthed Angel’s crotch, blunt teeth nipping at the erection straining against the seam. His fingers worked impatiently at the fastenings, finally ripping the material when they wouldn’t open. 

Angel’s hiss was music to Spike’s ears. So was the guttural moan, his name whispered ever so reverently. 

“William.” 

Spike took Angel’s cock in his mouth, employed a century’s worth of experience to bring him to the pinnacle of pleasure – holding him there, indefinitely. Until— 

“Please.” 

Spike pulled back and stood. Seared Angel with a look as he quickly stripped out of his jeans. He turned with every intention of swiping the coffee table clear of its clutter and found himself lying face first on its surface, Angel stretched out on top of him. Magazines toppled off the edge as Angel thrust against him. Spike’s cock scraped against the waxed wood, hard enough to take a layer or two of skin off, but he didn’t care. It felt too good having Angel surround him, his cock shoving against Spike’s balls. Pain was ignored when Angel eventually knelt behind him and shoved a spit-covered finger in his ass, crooking until he found— 

“Bloody fuck. Again. Angel, again!” 

Angel did, with two fingers this time, rubbing over Spike’s prostate once, twice, three times. Spike howled, begging – pleading – for Angel to take him. Fingers receded and Spike reached back and held himself open. The pressure was back almost immediately. Something bigger pushed against his hole and Spike forced himself to relax. 

“Do it already!” Spike demanded when he felt Angel hesitate. 

“It’s gonna hurt.” 

“I don’t care!” 

“Spike—” 

“Do it, Angel.” 

“William…” 

“Bloody hell, Angelus— argh! Yes!” Spike screamed as he was breached, his drunken state unable to entirely mask the pain. The smell of blood hit the air – Spike’s blood – forcing moans from both vampires. 

Spike found himself abruptly lifted away from the coffee table and back against Angel. One of Angel’s arms snaked around Spike’s front holding him in place; the other rested on his hip, guiding his movements. Slow, deep thrusts that seemed much more than merely fucking on Angel’s part, resonated in Spike’s soul, sobered him far quicker than the pain, and he hastily closed his eyes lest the salty tang of his unshed tears were smelt by Angel. 

But, it was like Angel somehow knew and seemed determined to bring them about. 

“So sweet. My boy,” and a host of other sweet words issued forth from Angel’s lips, words a fledgling William and a reborn Spike had longed to hear. 

Forever denied him until this very moment. 

“Sire,” Spike whispered, and the tears spilled forth. 

“Got you,” was murmured in Spike’s ear. “My boy. Mine.” Strong arms tightened around Spike, cocooning him. 

“Angel…” 

“Shhh… Just feel.” Spike’s own works whispered back to him. 

Spike nodded, relaxing into Angel’s embrace. Angel’s hand moved from his hip to his cock and began stroking it in time with his thrust, slowly at first, until the two could stand it no more, then faster. Then Angel changed the angle of his thrusts and brushed over Spike’s prostrate. 

“Angel!” Spike screamed, and Angel did it again, then again. Over and over, until Spike was weeping with the pleasure of it. 

“Come with me,” Angel whispered in his ear, then sunk his fangs in the faded marks on Spike’s neck. 

For once, Spike followed Angel’s directive, his body shuddering helplessly in the wake of Angel’s bite. 

With the taste of Spike’s blood flooding his mouth, Angel quickly followed. A handful of thrusts and he spilled his seed deep inside his childe’s ass. It had been far too long since his boy bore his mark and Angel smirked against the flesh still held between his teeth, secretly pleased at having marked Spike with his scent once again. 

Angel collapsed back onto his haunches, pulling Spike with him. He loosened his hold on Spike’s cock and brought his hand up to the vampire’s mouth. Growled as Spike snagged it and proceeded to lick his fingers clean. 

When Spike was done, an unnatural silence descended upon the room. Angel was still reluctant to let Spike go, fearing what would happen. Posturing, most likely, to cover any tender feelings either one of them might harbor. A defensive measure brought about by decades of pain and suffering, both given and received. 

Spike took the decision out of his hands, however. 

“Let me up, you big lug, before we’re stuck together.” 

Sighing, Angel reluctantly did like Spike asked. He tensed, waiting for the verbal assault to begin, and started when an outstretched hand appeared in his line of sight. Lifting his head, he saw Spike staring at him, for once, his expression completely devoid of hostility. 

“Shower?” 

“Uh… yeah.” 

Angel allowed himself to be pulled to his feet and couldn’t help but stare down at the tattered remains of his pants. He sighed, released Spike’s hand so he could rip them off his body, letting them fall heedlessly to the carpeted floor. 

Spike was just entering his bedroom when he looked up. 

“Grab some blood, will you, Peaches? Prolly gonna need it if we’re gonna break in this monstrosity you call a bed.” 

A reluctant smile pulled at Angel’s lips and he started walking to the kitchen.

The End

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