Title: Serpent's Tooth
Author: hamster of doom
Email: violethamster@yahoo.com
Pairing: William/Angelus
Warnings: PWP, bloodplay
Spoilers: None
Feedback: You could at least cut off my head or set me on fire. I mean, is that too much to ask?
Distribution: I'm wearing a button that says "Ask Me How!"
Disclaimer: It's not my fault they do bad things and force me to write about it.
Carriage wheels rattled over sun-dappled cobblestones on the other side of the front parlor windows, where Spike watched listlessly through the gap between the heavy curtains. He was bored and melancholy, missing Drusilla since she'd been spirited off by Darla on one of her unpredictable voyages to pay her respects to the Master. Which, he'd noticed, seemed to occur for no other reason than Darla being especially annoyed at Angelus.
A tiny girl clinging to the skirts of her nursemaid - who was busily chatting, inattentive to her charge - opened and closed her fingers in a wave, staring in Spike's direction. His eyes narrowing, he impulsively waggled his fingers back; wondering if he could manage
to beckon the child into the house without anyone in the street noticing. Or without her being run over by a cab on her way across, although he supposed at least that would provide some entertainment.
Strong arms snaked around his waist, pulling him back against a hard chest, interrupting his reverie. "Come to bed, boy," Angelus whispered, lips parted wetly against his ear.
Irritably, Spike tried to shrug off the embrace. "Really not in the mood, Angelus."
Angelus made a sound of disgust and released him. "Christ. It's like having another woman around the house."
"Right. So, it's me not spreading my legs for you that makes me like a woman, is it?" Spike mocked, closing the curtains with a sharp jerk as he turned his back to the window. He watched, hiding a twinge of secret amusement, as Angelus snorted and threw himself
down on the settee in a sulk.
Several moments passed, the heavy cloud of Angelus' discontent hovering in the air between them, before Spike said mildly, "What, are you not even going to make an attempt to persuade me?"
"Oh, so it's persuasion you want?" Heavy-lidded eyes watched him. "And what, exactly, do you expect me to do to persuade you?"
"I'm sure you could think of something. If you tried hard enough."
"I haven't any patience for your games, William," Angelus warned.
"Thought you liked games."
"Ah. So I do." Angelus lunged at him, grabbed him by the waistband of his trousers and tugged him close. "Got you," he hissed in Spike's face, arms wrapping around Spike's torso to tightly imprison him.
A mixture of nervousness and lust set up a slow roil deep in Spike's belly. He hid his uncertainty under a taunting grin. "Tell you what -why don't you just suck my cock?" He waited for the flash of anger before innocently cajoling, "It'll get me in the mood."
"Will it, now?" Angelus studied him closely, considering. "Alright, then." The corner of his mouth twitched briefly, and he abruptly swept Spike off his feet and spun them both around.
Spike eyed Angelus warily, put on guard by the sardonic amusement on his face as he was dragged through the room; Angelus whirling him around in a clumsy waltz, knocking aside every fragile knick-knack in their path in a tinkling shower of shattering glass and
porcelain. A last reckless turn sent them colliding heavily into the wall in the front hallway, where Angelus seized his wrist in an implacable grip and hauled him bodily up the stairs.
Clasped in Angelus' arms like a rag doll, he was maneuvered into the bedroom. The bed hit the back of his knees and he flailed out to grab hold of the bedpost, although Angelus' grip kept him from losing his balance more than any effort of his own.
"What now?" Spike asked, intrigued despite himself.
Wordlessly, Angelus reached up and undid a button on Spike's shirt. Spike watched in fascination as the large hands carefully fumbled with each button, traveling in a slow and measured journey down his chest and stomach. Brushing against his crotch as they unfastened his trousers, tugging his clothing off entirely until he stood naked. The textures of Angelus' clothing against his naked skin, the firmness of the flesh beneath it as Angelus pushed him down onto the bed, being pressed beneath the weight of him; all were sensations that made Spike gasp, his head swimming with arousal. Being naked
and pinned down under Angelus' fully clothed body sent a shiver of vulnerability through him, shamefully exciting.
"Now you're at my mercy. Of course - I don't actually have any."
Spike's spine stiffened, making him curse silently, but he forced himself to relax and inject a world-weary tone into his voice. "We're pretending I'm a victim, are we?"
"Pretending?" Angelus raised his head to look at him. His eyes were cold and impersonal, and Spike's heart sank. Angelus lowered his mouth to Spike's throat, blunt teeth pressing to either side of the vein, hard and brief, before they were replaced by the slow swipe of
his wet tongue.
Lying quietly while Angelus licked his way down his body, Spike fought not to be reduced to a quivering puddle of want, to remain ready to leap up and fight back if there should be any sign of genuine danger.
Tracing its way down his stomach, the tongue paused in its journey to dip and swirl into his navel, sending a tingle all the way down to his balls. Long hair drifted teasingly over his cock, erect against his belly. He tried shifting his posture slightly, attempting to get the contact it urgently needed. Angelus' hands gripped his hips, holding him still, and he felt a small warning nip on the skin of his stomach.
The tip of Angelus' tongue touched his stomach, and he felt it trace a path, knew where it was headed, tensed in anticipation – felt it stop for an excruciatingly teasing few seconds. He whimpered involuntarily in frustration. And imagined he felt the tremor of a chuckle against his flesh as the tongue touched down against the underside of his cock, and traced a slow line up its length, before the head was surrounded by the blissful touch of Angelus' lips.
The inside of Angelus' mouth, closed wet and tight around Spike's cock, still retained an elusive warmth from the blood of his last victim; a lovely young girl they'd dragged into an alley, right behind the backs of her oblivious parents, and shared between them. Spike's lips parted in a silent moan of delight as that mouth sucked him in deep, sending heat all through his body.
His hands closed convulsively on Angelus' shoulders, clutching at the material of his shirt; as his back arched and his hips gave a slow thrust in time with the bobbing of Angelus' head. He looked down, wanting to watch Angelus moving on his cock.
Angelus glanced up at him. Cock sliding between his lips.
Golden eyes.
Spike's balls contracted in horror as he envisioned the razor-sharp trap that surrounded his most vulnerable part.
"Hey! Careful, you'll bite it right off!"
Jagged teeth closed on his flesh, barely pressing into the skin. Instantly causing him to freeze, tears starting in his eyes. He didn't dare to move, didn't know how to escape, and cursed his own stupidity.
The pressure let up, and Angelus spoke, low and even. "I suggest you hold still, William. Or I will bite it off."
Spike bit his lip, held his body utterly still, tried to blink away the tears from his eyes, and stared fixedly at the lacy canopy over the bed. His gaze followed the patterns of the lace distractedly, mind whirling with impossible plans, while remaining alert to even the smallest brush of contact against his flesh.
A tiny, sharp prick of a fang pressed against his scrotum, and he willed himself not to lash out. A swipe of tongue followed that caused the cut to sting intensely, while the skin surrounding it tingled with pleasure.
The fang touched down again, drawing a bright line of fire over his skin, making him suck in a breath. He thought the cut was only a shallow one, but its location and not being able to see it made the threat of it loom disproportionately large in his mind. Angelus
retraced the line, lapping at it slowly as though he were savoring the taste, and Spike could smell his own blood.
The next cut was a meandering pattern wandering endlessly over and around his sac, putting Spike unpleasantly in mind of peeling an orange; even as the slicing teeth and caressing tongue both conspired to push him to heights of combined discomfort and
pleasure, the sensations becoming confused and intertwined. Even now, the bastard can't stop trying to be artistic about it, he thought, incredulous, as he felt decorative swirls being incised into him.
Sharp points traveled inexorably onward, tracing up his rock-hard cock as he tried not to flinch away. This time without any licking to sooth the hurt; shallow slices being laid one by one into his skin, his cock throbbing even more from the pain than it had already been from arousal.
He almost bit through his lip, trying not to scream, when Angelus' mouth once again engulfed him. Friction and saliva intensifying the individual sting of each cut, stoking them into an all-encompassing burn. Spike whimpered and twitched, long hard sweeps of wet, warm mouth grasping his cock, then retreating and exposing it to air that stung his cuts like shards of broken glass.
Even though Angelus' sucking gave him exquisite pain amidst the pleasure, Spike writhed helplessly, overwhelmed, flinching whenever his movements caused him to brush unexpectedly against fangs. It felt as though the pressure of Angelus' mouth was the only thing holding him together, as though he might split apart as the force of his orgasm built up relentlessly inside him.
"Angelus!" he cried out, digging his fingers hard into the other vampire's shoulders. He almost sobbed in gratitude as Angelus took him deep into his throat, holding him tight as he spurted, jerking and groaning, his brain flooded and dissolved by sensation.
He subsided slowly, still uttering small whimpers as sparks ran intermittently up his spine, and Angelus licked his wounds clean with surprising gentleness.
A fingertip stroked up the length of his cock, carefully traveling over a path of skin that had remained whole, avoiding the incisions that surrounded it.
"Suppose we should give this a chance to heal up," Angelus mused, almost sounding sympathetic.
Spike let out a slight, tired sigh of relief and let his eyelids sink shut. Feeling utterly worn out and exhausted, and grateful at the prospect of getting some sleep.
He felt Angelus prod at his hip.
"C'mon now, William." Spike opened his eyes in disbelief to see Angelus poised over him, eyes bright with amusement. He pushed at Spike to roll him over. "Let's see what we can do to the other side."
END