This time Spike awoke to the feel of gentle fingers running sensuously up and down his spine. He moaned, wriggled and burrowed further into the soft pillow, undecided whether to wake fully and enjoy the touch or go back to sleep. Unfortunately for his head, his body decided to wake up and that necessitated rotating his hips slightly to free up his burgeoning erection.
The fingers stilled and Nicci’s voice came from behind him. "You’re awake."
Spike moaned again but this time from embarrassment as the memory of falling asleep while sobbing in Nicci’s arms came racing back. "You know the problem with sleeping?" he asked; voice muffled by the pillow, and then answered his own question, "Bloody well waking up."
There was a giggle and a smooth-skinned body slid into the bed next to him, wrapping an arm and leg over his back. "We should go back to sleep then."
"Hmm," he agreed and tried to recapture his slumber, all to no avail. A few minutes later he was wide awake and feeling restless. He turned over and Nicci moved with him, curling against his side and resting his head on Spike’s chest.
"What time is it?" Being underground and unconscious for the last few days had played hell with Spike’s still limited ability to sense the sun. He was fairly sure it was daylight but further than that he couldn’t say.
"About one. You slept for twelve hours."
"God, no wonder I’m awake." Spike sat up, Nicci sliding off him sideways onto his back. The room was dark, without windows no scrap of natural light ever penetrated this far into the lair. Customarily though lighted candles were spread around, softening the ugly lines of old plaster and exposed wood. "This place is a real dump, you know. You should get Joshua to move you somewhere nice."
"Maybe. Where do you live?" Nicci was stretched out now, arms pillowing his head, and completely relaxed.
Spike shrugged. "Battersea. Huge, old place close to the river. Angelus rents it. Says it stops people asking what happened to the owners and he can always get money."
"You live in a house? Like humans?"
"Well, yeah." Glancing over at Nicci, Spike frowned at the surprise on the other vampire’s face. "Darla likes her comforts and then there’s Dru…"
"What about you? What do you like?"
"Me?" Spike shrugged again, having never really thought about. "Dunno. So long as the bed’s comfy…" He grinned wickedly and bounced up and down on the spot, making the mattress bounce along with him.
Nicci threw a pillow at him and things degenerated from there into a full-blown pillow fight, vampire style. The furniture, walls and ceiling beams all came into play as the pair charged around the room covered in feathers, laughing, shouting and generally enjoying themselves, until an irate voice bellowed, "Will you two shut up! It’s not even close to sunset."
Collapsing onto the bed, Spike dragged Nicci down on top of him and immediately the atmosphere changed. Each becoming suddenly and painfully aware of their proximity, faces only inches apart and bodies, aroused from play, pressed together.
"Beautiful." Spike whispered pushing back a stray lock of jet-black hair and when dark eyes dropped self-consciously, he caught Nicci’s chin and raised his head until they became each other’s mirrors. "I want to make love to you, kitten. Will you let me?"
Taken aback by the depth of passion in Spike’s voice, Nicci hesitated. He hadn’t expected this. In contrast to last night’s nerves and shyness, Spike was suddenly a confident and very masculine lover, and the change was disconcerting.
While he was vacillating, Spike closed the gap between them and captured Nicci’s lips, kissing him for the first time. After a second, Nicci melted against him, bringing up a hand to tangle in his hair and Spike returned the favour, cupping the back of his lover’s skull with the palm of his hand. Their tongues emerged together and tangled, tickling and caressing, sometimes escaping to dart into the other’s waiting mouth to stroke along teeth and palate.
Free hands moved of their own accord, Nicci’s fingers splaying on Spike’s chest, his nails rhythmically massaging the soft skin they found there as he paddled like a contented cat. Aroused beyond belief by the body in his arms, Spike ran his nails down Nicci’s back, hoping to persuade him closer, instead he arched away, pushing back into the wandering hand and raised one leg so it draped across Spike’s thigh. Instinctively, Spike followed the curve of Nicci’s buttocks between his legs and almost stopped when he felt the smooth skin there.
Nicci encouraged him over the slightly awkward moment by purring into his mouth and squirming at the brush of fingers over his perineum. Reassured he was doing something right, Spike continued, increasing the pressure until the purr became a breathy growl of pleasure and need. Only then did he move his fingers back to touch Nicci’s hidden entrance. The growl deepened and, as Spike played with his hole, Nicci broke the kiss and started to pant, throwing his head back in an obvious state of arousal.
"We need the oil."
"Night stand."
Loathe to stop touching but having no choice, Spike reached behind him and flailed around until his fingers closed around the small glass bottle Nicci had left there. When he brought it back Nicci grabbed it and yanked out the stopper, tossing it carelessly over his shoulder and onto the floor. Rolling Spike onto his back, Nicci straddled his thighs and drizzled oil liberally over his chest and abdomen, then he squiggled backward trailing a slow stream after him until Spike was bathed in the sweetness of roses from nipples to knees.
"Hands."
Perplexed by this sudden need to cover everything with oil, Spike frowned but complied anyway, offering his cupped hands as though awaiting communion, his eyes darting from his hands to Nicci’s face.
Nicci smiled at the endearing picture his lover presented and kissed Spike’s palms before he anointed the waiting hands with the remainder of the oil, saying, "It will be like making love in the bath." When Spike’s frown only deepened the empty bottle followed its stopper, freeing up both hands for Nicci to use in ensuring every scrap of that delicious pale skin had a generous slippery lacquer. Then, eyes twinkling with mischief, he literally slid up Spike’s body, skating on its oily film and eliciting a gasp of pleasured surprise that he consumed with a kiss.
Obviously shagging someone covered with oil was a learned skill, Spike thought, as Nicci slipped away from him for the umpteenth time giggling playfully. With a frustrated growl he threw himself back on the pillows and closed his eyes. Nicci took the bait and returned to tease and frustrate some more. Patiently, Spike suffered, awaiting the perfect moment and when it came, he moved with lightening speed, reversing their position and using his entire body to pin his elusive lover to the bed.
"Got you!" He crowed triumphantly.
Nicci brought his legs up to wrap around Spike’s waist, rubbing his naked groin against the rock hard cock pressing into him causing it to slip between his legs. Then, fluttering his eyelashes, he pouted and said in a mock tremulous voice, "Oh, sir, whatever will you do with me now."
Spike groaned at the blatant submissiveness and growled, "You’re a bloody tease, mate. All girlish giggles and what not when all you really want is a good hard fuck." With that he turned his attentions to Nicci’s neck, covering it in biting kisses from jaw line to collarbone, rocking his pelvis and using his prick to drive his lover into a writhing frenzy of need.
Searching desperately through the morass of want that used to be his mind, Nicci struggled to find the right words, finally managing to gasp in time with Spike’s thrusts, "Need you… In me… Please, William."
As Spike started to pull away, intending to turn Nicci onto his belly, his arm was caught and he glanced up to see Nicci shaking his head. "No. Like this. I want to see your face. I want to be able to kiss you as we make love."
"Oh, umm… how?"
Rather than answer, Nicci lifted his legs higher and draped them over Spike’s shoulders, opening himself up and shuddered when the tip of Spike’s cock pushed against his hole before skidding away.
Spike laughed in a tight, constrained way that suggested hard won control and muttered, "S’not gonna to be easy. You’re all slidey."
"Hmm… Fingers first." Nicci murmured, directing hesitant hands down between his legs, and then gasped as an exploratory finger breached his tight muscle.
Swallowing audibly at the strong grip that closed around him, Spike started to work his finger in and out, allowing himself to be guided by his partner’s reactions. Within moments Nicci was moaning wantonly and pressing back, so he ventured another digit, sliding them in deep and coating the satin walls with slick oil. His own breath was quickly becoming panted as his body reacted to the promise he found in his lover’s body and he bit his bottom lip, fighting the urge to just plunge inside.
"Now. Now. Now."
Guessing that the mantra probably meant Nicci was ready for him, Spike removed his fingers and, shushing the sob of loss it caused, pressed the head of his cock against Nicci’s now relaxed and pulsating anus. This time there was little resistance and he slid in to the hilt with a single even thrust. It nearly proved his undoing as tantalising promise became mind-blowing reality and he collapsed forwards with a heartfelt groan, his head dropping onto a waiting shoulder as Nicci’s legs slipped back down to circle his waist.
Nicci squirmed, wanting to feel his lover move and Spike cursed, his hand flying between them to the base of his cock and pinching it tightly. "Wait. Fer Christ’s sake don’t fucking move."
Now it was Nicci’s turn to comfort and he rubbed soothing circles on the nape of Spike’s neck and whispered reassurance in his ear as he fought for control, shuddering and shaking. It took several minutes, not helped by the way Nicci’s channel fluttered and throbbed around him, but finally Spike lifted his head and took a deep breath, staring glassily into Nicci’s eyes.
"Right. Sorted. Ready?"
"Uhuh."
Reaching back Spike snagged one of Nicci’s legs with the crook of his elbow, pushing it up into his chest and started to thrust hard, pulling out nearly the whole way before plunging back inside. The sensations were overwhelming. Exquisitely different from being buried in Darla or Dru, it was like comparing apples and pears. Whereas they enfolded his cock in welcoming softness that sucked him in and refused to let go, Nicci was more like a glove closing around him, capturing him in a slick grip and milking him dry. It was the difference between velvet and silk, cognac and whiskey, cream and…
Abandoning metaphor as his brain ceased to have coherent thoughts, Spike groaned, his internal monologue rewriting itself into vocalised grunts and snarls as he rose onto his hands and worked into the body below him.
Meeting thrust with thrust, Nicci rotated his hips until his sweet spot was being stroked with every deep violent penetration, sending sparks of pleasure down to his toes. He arched, letting his lover’s movements lift his back clear of the bed. Now stroking had become pounding, pleasure so extreme it verged on painful, still it wasn’t enough. Dragging Spike’s mouth back to his, Nicci delved in for another passionate kiss, hoping to recapture the closeness he had felt before. But not even their duelling tongues could push him over the edge and he could feel his whole body shaking with frustration and denied release. He wanted to scream, to shout out and instead sank his nails and blunt human teeth into Spike’s flesh, desperately needing someone to tell him how beautiful he was.
It would be so easy to come, Spike thought. The way Nicci’s muscles grasped his cock and clenched around it, extracting every millimetre of sensation from him. But something was wrong. Somewhere along the line this had gone from making love to fucking and Spike wasn’t sure why or how. Nicci was tense, vibrating like a strung bow, and when he felt the claws in his back, Spike stopped moving and caught Nicci’s head in his hands.
"What do you need, love? Tell me."
"Tell me. Love me." The lack of focus in those ebony eyes demonstrated just how close his lover was and the words were less than helpful but Spike was willing to take a stab at putting this right. Lowering his head he placed a gentle kiss on Nicci’s lips and whispered against them, "You are beautiful. Can you feel what you do to me?"
Starting to thrust again, more slowly and deliberating than before, he continued to talk, punctuating his words with kisses on eyelids, cheeks and lips. "So tight. Feel me inside you. Hard for you. Wanting you. You’re killing me, Nicci. So beautiful, so perfect."
This was what he needed, gentleness and consideration. A ragged sob broke from Nicci’s throat and he relaxed, allowing his body to be manipulated and caressed. Spike’s hand ran down his side, tracing the line of his thigh to his knee, and stroking the soft skin behind it with delicate fingertips. The kisses grew deeper and more sensuous, mimicking the way their bodies merged and moved together, the increase in pace imperceptibly gradual.
Nicci’s orgasm came languidly, spreading through his limbs in a treacle wave of relief and bringing tears to his eyes at its depth and profundity. It crested with mesmerising slowness, and then snapped suddenly into being sending him crashing over the edge with a wail. His internal muscles clenched with such ferocity he felt he was going to explode. And then he did, writhing violently and crying out again as his body produced what little ejaculate it could in tiny painful spurts.
"Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck." The curses fell from Spike’s lips as, taken completely off guard, he joined Nicci almost immediately, hips pumping in a rapid broken rhythm as his climax was sucked out of him with eye-crossing force.
It took a couple of minutes for Nicci to breathe again and when he did he couldn’t help but laugh. Spike hauled himself up on one shaking arm and glared down with mock ferocity. "Funny, am I?"
"Yes," Nicci giggled and then squealed when Spike thrust into him again with a growl. "No! Just… that’s exactly what you said last time."
Spike rolled his eyes, pulled out gently and flopped backwards onto the bed, one arm over his face. "You know a bloke could be hurt, what with the laughing and such."
Nicci grabbed the arm and pulled it down revealing dancing blue eyes and a pout that begged to be kissed. So he did, nibbling on the protruding bottom lip until it disappeared into a smile. Only then did he break off and sit back up. "Better. I’m the only one who gets to pout."
Not answering, Spike caught Nicci’s hand and linked their fingers together, closely inspecting them while his mind moved on to other matters. At some point during that incredible experience he’d finally got it, he’d understood. Primarily, that being taken in that way could be pleasurable and didn’t have to hurt first, but also that Angelus wasn’t likely to give it up, which meant he could look forward to many more encounters with his adopted sire.
"Your eyes are sad again."
"Hmm?" Spike glanced up and saw only concern for his well being. "Yeah. Just thinking ‘bout Angelus. Wondering how I can get him to… I dunno. Be gentle? God that sounds poncy."
"He won’t rape you again. I told him I would kill him if he did."
"What?!" Spike was sitting up before he’d even realised he’d moved. The sheer idea of this tiny person defending his honour was… Actually it was kind of sweet.
"I also called him a donkey, amongst other things, though I don’t think he understood that part."
"A donkey. Oh, that’s-that’s priceless." A sudden image of Angelus as Bottom with a pair of ass’ ears on his head wooing Darla, Queen of the Fairies, shot through Spike’s mind. He collapsed in hysterical laughter. Rapidly followed by Nicci when he could spare the breath to explain the joke.
Shakespeare, it seemed, was universal.
***
They had given him shoes before they cast him out but his boiled fingers couldn’t hold them and they had fallen to the ground.
They hadn’t given him blood.
He’d tried to beg. To say, ‘Master I have given you thirty years,’ but they couldn’t hear him past the cloth in his mouth.
He’d tried to escape, get away from the consuming burning water, but the lid was too tight and the chains held him fast.
He’d tried to die, removed from the world with only a shred of sanity left, but they dragged him out and made him live.
He’d tried to ask "Why master, when I only wanted to save your childe," but his lips and tongue were a single cooked piece.
He’d tried to leave, so as not to hear their jeers and mockery of his broken body, but they forbade it until night came again.
They had given him shoes before they cast him out. But they hadn’t given him blood.
Sobbing as the last fragment of his tattered mind disappeared into madness, Erik hid himself in the sewers and plotted his strange and twisted revenge.
***
Once the humour was gone - which admittedly took some time - Spike was still left with the same questions running round in his head. He sighed, turning over in yet another attempt to get comfortable on the bed, and tried to blame his melancholy on Nicci’s absence. It didn’t work. If anything Nicci’s company made it worse because he wouldn’t let the quiet alone and wanted to talk everything out. There were some things about a bloke that should remain secret. Spike firmly believed this, and he wasn’t about to change his mind just because he’d had his todger up Nicci’s arse. Being a poof didn’t have to make him into one. And it wasn’t like Nicci had a bloody choice. Lacking the wherewithal sort of made him one by default; he could hardly have a woman.
He frowned, confused by his logic and his sudden antagonism. Nicci was nice. Sweet. Fucking gorgeous even. So why did he feel so angry? The answer was glaring him in the face. He knew it and didn’t want to see it. He was grousing about Nicci because he wanted to be on the receiving end of one of those bloody toys and didn’t know how to ask. He wanted to experience the kind of pleasure he had given to Nicci and was embarrassed to admit it even to himself. He desired Angelus and hated himself for feeling that way.
"Dinner is served."
Grateful for the interruption Spike glanced up to see Nicci pushing a young lad into the room. "Good, ‘m starving," he grumbled, grabbing the boy and scrubbing at his neck. "Couldn’t you find something a bit cleaner? I’ll get mud on me fangs eating this."
"It’s that or nothing." Nicci snapped back with a growl and Spike stared at him, his mouth dropping open in surprise. Where had that come from?
"You alright, love?" Then, suddenly concerned, he jerked his head at the door and asked, "Something happen out there? Angelus giving you a hard time?"
"No, not that." Sighing deeply, Nicci dropped down on the bed and gave Spike a pointed look. "If you won’t eat him I can find someone who will."
The street urchin was dispatched with alacrity, the body tossed out the door to be cleared away by the minions, and an uncomfortable silence reigned over the room. Eventually, and without meaning to, they both spoke together.
"How are…?" "Right then…"
Embarrassed, Spike waved Nicci to go first. He did.
"I was only going to ask how you are. You seem healed."
The answer fit perfectly into what Spike was about to say anyway. "Yeah, well, I am. So I reckon I’ll grab some clothes and then it’ll be time for me to get gone."
Nicci’s eyes were firmly on the ground when he answered, "Over there," indicating a tallboy in the corner next to the dressing room door.
Spike investigated, finding a shirt and pair of trousers that would probably swamp him but would do in a pinch. He pulled them on, then located his boots and bent to tie the laces, feeling Nicci’s eyes on him with every passing second. No matter how he tried, Spike couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong again.
Finally he decided that nothing ventured, nothing gained was a good motto and spun round saying, "I’m sorry," at exactly the same moment Nicci did.
"This is silly. Come and sit with me." Nicci patted the bed and Spike, somewhat reluctantly, joined him, his unease still growing.
"I don’t want you to go," Nicci continued, speaking much more reasonably but still refusing to look up. "Angelus isn’t ready either. He and Joshua are busy discussing the finer points of their truce."
"That’s enough!" Spike grabbed Nicci’s chin and forced his head up, cocking an eyebrow as he examined the face his action revealed. The other vampire looked drained, horrified, disgusted and above all, sad. "What the hell happened?" They were harsh words but the tone was gentle and Nicci’s face dissolved into tears. With a hiccuping sob he threw himself into Spike’s lap and held on as if only that contact was stopping him from flying apart.
"They… they p-put… E-Erik in the… the p-pot."
Spike didn’t have the foggiest idea who Erik was, or what he might have done, but he sure as hell didn’t deserve to go into that pot. No one did. Suppressing a shudder and frantically pushing back the memories, he smoothed Nicci’s hair and tried to calm him, struck by how their roles were now reversed. Last time it had been him doing the girlie bit. What a pathetic pair they were.
Eventually Nicci stopped crying and sat up, wiping his eyes and nose, and looking sheepish. "You must think I’m a terrible vampire becoming so upset over such a matter."
"Sod that." Spike retorted with a snort. "Remember you’re talking to a bloke that’s been in that thing. Wouldn’t stick anyone in it… Well, maybe Herbert but it’s a bit late now. Killed him already."
Nicci laughed, a bit wanly and Spike squeezed him, muttering, "Knew I could get a smile." Then pushed him back, holding him firmly by the arms, and gave him a quick once over. "You look a right mess. Hang on here while I fetch some water."
For the first time since his capture Spike ventured out of the private chambers in the back of the lair. Up until now everything had been brought to him. Even Joshua and Angelus had stayed away, at least as far as he knew. Nicci, and a couple of minions, had been his only contact with the rest of the world.
Hugging the wall of the short corridor that lead to Nicci’s chamber, he glared into the huge main room unwilling to take the final step. Brilliant slivers of light pierced the rotten wood covering the windows, giving the room an eerily friendly feel, like the attic at home - his mother’s home - where he’d read away the hours as a boy. But the fire pit was still there, he could see the edging bricks and, squatting next to it, the laundry copper its burnished surface reflecting the sunlight back at him.
Cautiously he extended a hand, passing it back and forth through the dust-speckled light, playing with a sunbeam that didn’t burn. How strange that something that had given him so much pain was now a window into the world he had lost. For long minutes he simply stood, watching his hand in the dilute sunlight, noticing the deathly pallor of his skin for the first time. He’d always been pale but now he looked blue white, corpse white. He sniggered loudly but it sounded vaguely hysterical, so he stopped.
Giving himself a swift mental kick in the backside, Spike entered the room keeping his eyes averted, not wanting any more reminders than he’d already had. Even so, passing a set of manacles that still bore the scent of cooked flesh left his hands shaking, and he ducked into the next room nearly tripping over a minion sleeping by the door.
"Oi!" A boot in the ribs was always an effective wake up call and the minion stirred, opening her eyes sleepily. Then, realising whom her assailant was, she shot up off the pallet, all traces of tiredness gone.
"Sir?"
"Need some water and a flannel cloth." Spike grunted in his best ‘ordering minions about’ voice, something he’d learned from watching and listening to Nicci. "And don’t forget the bowl!" He yelled after her as she ran off. That was the other thing, keep the orders simple and explicit. It was just like dealing with human servants except minions weren’t as bright.
A match flared in the darkness of the minion’s nest, illuminating the face of another vampire lighting a cigarette as he sat against the opposite wall. Remembering the stolen warmth that had come the last time he smoked, Spike called out, "Got a spare one of them?"
"Might ‘ave." Came the insolent reply and growling, Spike flashed some fang. It had the desired result and when the water, complete with cracked bowl and filthy flannel were delivered, he was the proud new owner of a whole packet of smokes and a matchbook.
When he got back to the chamber a huddled lump in the bed shifted, revealing itself to be Nicci and judging by his red eyes, Spike guessed he’d been crying again. Setting the bowl down on the nightstand, he threw the dirty flannel in the corner and pulled off his shirt, wetting a corner to use as a wash cloth.
"How yer feeling?" He asked dabbing at cheeks lined with salt tracks.
Nicci shrugged, "Better, I suppose, though still sad. I liked Erik."
Clenching his jaw against still more unwanted recollections, Spike remained silent, for once not wanting to prod at badly healed wounds. And if that made him a ponce he didn’t care. Then, completely out of the blue, Nicci asked, "Will I be as successful?"
"At what, love?" He answered rinsing the shirt and cleaning the other tearstained cheek.
"Making you smile when you tell me why you are sad."
He owed Nicci his honesty and he tried to give it, wringing his shirt between his fingers as he spoke. "Not really sad. Confused more like."
"Confused?"
A small hand was slipped into his, preventing terminal damage to the linen and he gripped it tightly. "Yeah. ‘Bout you and Angelus and… stuff."
"Ah." The way Spike’s moods swung from tough street scum to scared young man had Nicci endlessly fascinated. He still found it hard to believe that the person squeezing his hand so hard was the same one that had swept him off his feet and made love to him a few hours ago.
"William?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you want me to make love to you?"
"Honestly? I dunno."
"Would you like to try? We can always stop if you don’t enjoy it."
Spike frowned and met Nicci’s eyes for the first time since this awkward conversation began. "You wouldn’t mind? Stopping I mean… Oh, yeah, ‘course." If he could have blushed at the faux pas, Spike would have. How embarrassing, reminding Nicci of his… inadequacy.
Smiling sympathetically, Nicci commented, "You see. I’m the perfect choice of partner."
***
Coming with a dissatisfied grunt and thrust of his hips, Angelus shoved the minion’s head away, sending her flying off the bed. She landed with a clatter, a wooden chair skidding away from her flailing arm, and rolled into a crouch glaring back at the bed. Angelus ignored her, taking the time to get up and find a drink, before snarling a dismissal that saw her running out of the guestroom without looking back.
As the door closed behind her, he sighed. She’d been the best of a bad lot but given a free choice he would have preferred Nicci or Will, even Joshua, in his bed to that vacuous slut. Truth be told, after five days as Joshua’s guest he was bored out of his mind and couldn’t wait to pack up and follow Darla to Jersey. Though quite why she wanted to go there was still something of a mystery. At least this little sojourn had put his suspicions about her completely to rest, he no longer feared her ulterior motives involved betraying him in some way.
The highlight had been Erik, and Angelus’ lips curled into a cruel smile at the memory of the greasy minion’s face as he’d disappeared under the water. He wasn’t anything like as greasy when he came out, more a walking side of boiled bacon than a vampire. Couldn’t even feed with his lips stuck together like that. As entertainment went though, it lost its appeal after one glimpse of the disgusting creature and he’d had rightfully washed his hands of the whole affair. Not willing to risk contaminating his clothes by dusting him, Angelus had recommended that Erik be allowed to leave after nightfall, so as not to draw attention from the neighbours. Thankfully he took the smell of cooked meat with him.
Still in an odd mood that bordered on ennui, Angelus slipped on his vest and wandered out of the door, hoping to find Joshua up and about so he had company for the hour or so until sunset. The main hall was deserted, and the few strands of sunlight spilling through the broken wooden shutters made it uncomfortable to remain there for very long. Having no desire to mix with the minions, Angelus opted for the short corridor leading back to the private quarters rather than the kitchen and larder.
Three doors lead off the rectangular hallway. Straight ahead lay the main bedroom where Nicci was holed up with Spike and the one on the right Angelus knew led to Joshua’s study, which currently doubled as his sleeping space. The soft buzz of voices came from both rooms, pitched in the low tones vampires use to ensure privacy, so he tried the left hand door. It opened easily and Angelus found himself in a walk in dressing room filled with a collection of gowns that would make Darla weep with jealousy. He had a quick poke around, discovering an amazing quantity of gold jewellery, enough to pay the rent on the house in Battersea for months, and a small wooden chest containing an interesting selection of toys that had him reconsidering his opinion of Nicci. After a few minutes the initial interest wore off and he went to leave - having even less inclination to keep company with dresses than he did with minions - but stopped when he noticed another door on the right, half-hidden behind a colourful curtain. It was slightly ajar and without thinking he walked over and peered through into the room beyond.
***
"Relax," Nicci had said. And Spike had tried, the best he could anyway considering there was that bloody great rubber thing lying on the bed next to them, all oiled up and looking at him. Every time he got even close to relaxed a little voice in the back of his mind would point out that Nicci was going to stick that thing up his arse and somehow all his hard won peace of mind vanished.
A gentle swat across the backside told Spike he’d been tensing up again and from his perch straddling the back of Spike’s thighs, Nicci grumbled exasperatedly, "This is ridiculous. I am trying to give you a soothing massage and every time I touch your teez you go rigid. Relax, William!"
"Giving it my best shot, love. But that thing," Spike gestured at the lurking dildo, "keeps staring at me. Giving me the creeps, it is."
The dildo was removed from his field of vision and then, laughter bubbling under the surface seriousness in his voice, Nicci pointed out, "It cannot stare, it has no eyes. Did they cook your brain?"
"It was too bloody staring!" Spike protested, aware that he sounded completely pathetic. "So sod off."
"Well, now it has gone, so you can stop worrying and relax for me."
Having the thing gone certainly helped and half an hour later Spike was certain that even the sun rising inside the room wouldn’t persuade him to move. It hadn’t been an erotic massage but it had been thorough and had left him lying on his back staring at the ceiling with his dick half-hard and the rest of him decidedly floppy.
Beside him Nicci lay silently, trailing his fingers up and down Spike’s oil sheened chest, shimmering in the candlelight that illuminated the room and watching his face for the tell tale signs of stress. Nothing. His lover seemed totally at peace. The next time he reached Spike’s sternum he kept going, ranging as far as his navel and outlining the sensitive hollow with abstract shapes. And when Spike’s cock twitched and started to swell, Nicci permitted himself a small smile and allowed the next drift of his hand go further again. Using just the tips of his fingers he ghosted a touch along the length of the hardening shaft and down the soft skin of Spike’s sac. The orbs within stirred, causing the skin to crinkle and flex as arousal overcame his lover’s massage induced mellowness. Holding on to hope, Nicci continued onward gently stroking the seam between slack but closed thighs.
With the tiniest of exhalations Spike responded by opening his legs and surrendering to Nicci’s experienced touch. But rather than delving further Nicci casually mapped the defined muscles across the pale abdomen and thighs with his fingertips, using sharp hip bones as a path from one to the other. Then, his mouth filling with blood from a hastily bitten lip, he inscribed careful open-mouthed kisses, first from ear to navel and then from nipple to nipple, crowning the sensual circle he was drawing with his hand. The same blood, transferred to his fingers made the simple design visible and Spike’s erection, rising like a gnomon from a base of dark curls, released a single drop of diamond clear fluid rendering the picture complete.
Laid out like a willing sacrifice, arms and legs spread and recumbent, Spike resembled a painted idol. Scarlet and white, blood and marble, the colours and textures of Nicci’s youth. Scarlet and white, blood and come, the scents and textures of his rebirth. Blood was his constant companion however far he travelled, but the only blood shed here would be his own.
Gazing down at the masterpiece he had created with his hands, Nicci found himself captivated by Spike’s face, where blue eyes, blackened and glazed with lust, stared back, heavy lidded and only half aware. High prominent cheekbones that belied the alabaster skin covering them, seeming more suited to the face of an Ethiopian prince than an Englishman, and lips, moist and glistening, begging to be kissed, slightly parted to reveal a hint of pink tongue tucked neatly behind even white teeth.
If Spike wasn’t ready now, he never would be.
Moving to hover over the supine form, Nicci took his time kissing and caressing his way down Spike’s body. Constantly alert for physical reactions, the minute inhalations of breath and twitches from the skin and muscles under his hands, the deep scent of arousal that was becoming more powerful with each passing second. Deliberately avoiding any typical erogenous zones, he focussed instead on including every millimetre of skin in the experience. From fingertips to toes, he created and explored new sensitivities, on the palms of Spike’s hands and the soles of his feet, around his pelvic cradle and navel, until his lover’s body was tuned to perfection. Finally reaching his destination between Spike’s legs and, finding them pliant under his hands, he encouraged them upward to rest on his chest.
As Nicci lifted his legs, the same part of Spike’s mind that had been nagging earlier tried to get his attention, suggesting that being this vulnerable wasn’t manly. But Spike couldn’t bring himself to care. Arousal had settled over his relaxed body like a blanket, so that even though he knew his cock was rock hard and pulsing, it was just one of hundreds - thousands - of sensations. His entire being was one big throb. Lips twitching with a contented smile, he continued the amusing thought; his whole body was a gi-normous hard on.
Satin fingers caressed the soft skin on the backs and insides of his thighs, thumbs rubbing circles close to his hole and the last part of the puzzle clicked in to place. It felt so good. How could anything that felt so good be wrong? And when Nicci’s lips brushed over his anus, sucking and kissing, and a wet tongue probed and prodded and finally slipped inside, it was like coming home.
Nicci nearly stopped when he heard Spike’s diaphragm-deep inhalation before realising its significance. As though the breath had flicked a switch somewhere inside his lover’s mind, the body, which had been hypnotic in its preternatural stillness, came alive. The muscle around his tongue quivered and throbbed, hips flexed pressing back towards him begging for more and a litany of murmurs filled the air.
"God, yes. Feels so good, so fucking good. Need you, Nicci, want to feel you… inside me. Please, love."
Biting back the tears of frustration at being unable to give his lover what he wanted, Nicci did what he could, replacing his tongue with fingers still well slicked with oil from the massage. Skilfully and carefully he ensured every scrap of silky internal tissues were lubricated, then worked his hand using every trick he knew to loosen Spike’s virgin hole, reducing his lover to incoherent gasps and pleading.
Spike flinched slightly when something larger and blunter than Nicci’s fingers pushed against him, but he had been prepared so well there was no pain, only a slight burn that simply added to the sensation of being filled inch by agonising inch. Like a plunger into a syringe, the dildo entering forced out a long wail of pleasure and he found his back arching as his body fought to bring deeper penetration more quickly.
Then it happened. The thing he remembered from before. The thing that had finally sent him wild and fucking himself on Angelus’ cock even before the demon had wrested away his control. The toy rubbed over something inside and familiar fireworks exploded around his body, mini orgasms that had his sac tightening and drawing up in promised release. His hands left his legs to cope alone and flew to his cock but they got there too late. Nicci mouth engulfed him, enclosing his erection from leaking tip to throbbing base in cool, wet sensuality and Spike dug his fingers into Nicci hair, encouraging him to move, suck, anything that would bring relief from the explosive pressure. But his lover refused to co-operate; simply cradling his aching shaft in his mouth and throat until the initial urgency had receded.
When he felt the shudders racking Spike’s body subside, Nicci relinquished his position and slid up to steal the kisses he’d been promising himself since the start. Finally face to face, Nicci rolled onto his side, tugging Spike with him and began his assault on those swollen lips, nibbling and licking until they parted and allowed him inside.
**
The wooden doorframe creaked under Angelus’ hand and he cursed silently. Fuck Joshua for the lying fool he was. All woman? That eunuch was more man than his sire was and there was no way in hell this was going to happen less than fifteen feet in front of him.
About to step in and pull the lovers apart, Angelus hesitated. Christ but they painted a pretty picture together. And what was that Nicci was drawing…? Ungh! Venus.
Dilated eyes fixed on the bloody design and the pale column of flesh it enclosed, Angelus’ right hand found his cock through his trousers, pressing and massaging, hard already. The other ripped open his shirt, sending mother-of-pearl buttons pinging to the ground. Fingers running over chest and nipples, tweaking and tugging then dipping down to tease around his naval and the sensitive skin below.
On the bed Nicci lifted Spike’s legs, folding them against his chest and exposing his perfectly healed pink pucker.
Angelus’ throat closed, hitching around an unconscious breath and his trousers were suddenly open, his shaft, pulsating and leaking in his hand at the sheer idea of being buried inside his boy’s tight arse again.
Cries of pleasure tumbled from Spike’s lips as Nicci’s face pressed against his hole and Angelus bit back a groan as the memory of being there sent his desire spiralling. With each dip of Nicci’s head and every thrust of his long fingers, Angelus worked his cock feeling a tight blood slicked channel enclose him rather than his own unrewarding hand.
Then the toy pushed, oh so fucking slowly, past that grasping stretching heaven and then… Jesus and Mary!
Angelus dropped to his knees, pulling on every trick he knew not to come on the spot. Fingers pinching the base of his cock and breath rasping in his throat, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. It really didn’t help. The image was burned into his retinas. A contrast in colour, translucent white and glowing dark bronze bathed in the flickering light from strategically placed candles. Smooth lean limbs wound around each other, stroking and caressing. The room swelling with the sounds and scents of sensual pleasure. Nicci’s fingers playing up and down a prominent spine, stroking the slight flare that marked the transition between back and buttocks. Spike’s leg lifting to drape over Nicci’s waist. And an exquisite view of the dildo’s black base trapped between perfect pale cheeks.
Peering out of the dressing room just in time to observe Nicci’s fingers latch onto the toy, Angelus shoved his fist into his mouth and bit down.
**
With the first thrust Spike sobbed, tearing his mouth from Nicci’s and gripped his lover’s arms, his head dropping to Nicci’s shoulder and his breath coming in ragged, deep gasps.
"Shush, shush." Nicci carded his fingers through the dirty blonde hair resting against him, feeling the tension in Spike’s body, his cock jumping and twitching between them each time the dildo slid into him. "Don’t fight it, sweet thing. Just feel. Just be, noori."
Gradually the hold on Nicci’s arms tightened to painful levels and words started to emerge along with the air, as stuttered and strained as the body in his arms.
"Can’t… mustn’t… won’t-won’t let me… Christ, need to… Can’t…"
Worried by what he was hearing, Nicci stopped moving the toy thinking that somehow that was the problem. But it only seemed to make matters worse, as Spike’s desperate blue eyes gazed up at him and he murmured brokenly, "Don’t stop. Please. Harder. Please, love."
"Noori, tell me. What’s wrong?" There was no answer except the convulsive movement of hips as Spike thrust back on the static phallus, fucking himself hard.
"I wouldn’t let him touch himself so he could spend. That is what’s wrong."
Nicci’s gaze flew to the bottom of the bed where Angelus had just stepped further into the room, his open shirt and the large bulge in semi-fastened his trousers evidence that he had been observing them for quite some time. Tightening his fingers in Spike’s hair, Nicci drew his lover’s head closer, thankfully Spike was so far gone he seemed to neither hear nor sense his sire enter.
Making no attempt to conceal the anger in his voice, Nicci hissed, "What are you doing here?"
Angelus sneered. After all, the boy was his, so why shouldn’t he watch, or for that matter, take part if he wanted. Arrogantly he sauntered towards the bed, standing behind Spike and meeting Nicci’s gaze over the top of a bowed head.
"He’s mine."
"He is." The words were whispered with quiet determination and Angelus noticed that Nicci had covered Spike’s visible ear with his free hand. "And you hurt him."
With some difficulty Angelus came up with what he thought was the right combination of words to persuade Nicci to let him take over, it was either that or cause a rumpus. "That was about domination, not pleasure. Now let me ‘make love’ to my childe."
The phrase sounded odd and twisted in his mouth but it seemed to have the desired effect. Nicci’s expression softened and he nodded, giving permission where, as far as Angelus was concerned, none was needed. He was therefore taken aback when Nicci remained in the bed and kept the toy firmly embedded in Spike’s body.
Angelus glared at the interloper, who smiled back though it didn’t reach as far his eyes, which glittered dangerously. "I will not leave him to be hurt again."
Grudgingly, Angelus conceded defeat, and quickly shucked out of his clothes, leaving them in an untidy heap on the floor. He was about to join the couple on the bed when Nicci gave him a significant look and then nodded at the nightstand.
"Oil," he said, and without further prompting, Angelus did as he was told.
Not as far gone as the other two thought, Spike had sensed Angelus enter the room. In fact, and in retrospect, he realised he’d been scenting his sire’s arousal for quite some time. But the protective cushion of Nicci’s embrace convinced him that flight was unnecessary. Still he couldn’t suppress the flinch when his sire slid into the bed behind him.
Nicci must have felt it, because the soothing hand was back in his hair and quiet words of comfort whispered in his ear, the moving air making him shiver. "I promise you this. He will not hurt you, William. Your sire wishes to make love to you, that’s all."
A large hand gripped his hip and the toy slipped from his body, drawing with it a whimper of loss, and leaving his hole twitchy. It didn’t last for long though. Before he really had a chance to recover, he was rolled onto his front and pulled up onto his hands and knees. A flash of panic raced through him when Angelus’ cock nudged against his dilated entrance and then he was being penetrated again, deeper and stretching him more than the dildo had. Christ! The thought skittered through Spike’s mind haphazardly, when the bastard moves I’ll be able to taste him!
Spike keened quietly as Angelus pounded into him immediately, allowing him no chance to adjust and setting a brutal pace that made him clutch at the sheets to remain upright.
But he didn’t remain alone for long. Seconds later, Nicci insinuated himself between Spike and the bed, both his legs wrapping around Spike’s waist and focussing on his lover’s eyes, lustfully glazed and midnight blue, flickering gold with passion and desire. For a second they filled with something bordering on agony then fluttered closed, long dark lashes casting half-moon shadows across his cheeks.
Reaching up, Nicci pulled him down into a toe-curling kiss and Spike fell into it, grateful for the distraction, relishing the slip slide of their tongues’ gentle sparring. Nicci’s hands caressed his face and ran down his chest flicking and pinching his nipples. And such was Spike’s involvement that he hardly noticed when Angelus suddenly slowed almost to a stop.
He didn’t even notice when a hand was lifted off his hip - until it grasped his aching shaft and started to stroke it at a steady even pace. Breaking the kiss, Spike dropped his head and started panting, a profound shudder running through his entire body at the touch, and then another when he realised it was his sire’s hand, not Nicci’s, bringing such pleasure. No longer capable of being a passive recipient of Angelus’ thrusts, Spike started to meet each with one of his own only to fuck forwards again into the hand that worked him.
Swiping Nicci’s legs away, Angelus leaned forward, licking and nipping his way up Spike’s spine to his hairline. Blowing aside stubborn dirty blond strands, he covered his childe, back to chest, sinking his fangs gently into the soft skin at Spike’s nape holding him still. The pace picked up again and Spike braced one hand against the bedpost, shaking his head to clear it and eliciting a muffled growl from his sire. The rumble rattled through him awakening his demon and his fangs dropped with almost painful force.
Nicci gasped as without warning the beautiful men above him hit synchronicity, rising onto to their knees, their bodies suddenly moving as one. Angelus overshadowing them both, his leonine head thrown back exposing the corded column of his neck. The smooth line of his flanks a smear of continuous motion, fucking towards oblivion. His powerful shoulders and arms, muscles bulging and flexing, gleaming gold in the candlelight as he clutched his childe to his chest.
The moon to Angelus’ sun, Spike was composed entirely of planes and shadows, Zeus’ itinerant son with an athlete’s whip-lean body. His left hand raised and twisted into Angelus’ hair, the other digging strong fingers into pumping hips, urging his sire to greater heights. The hand tugging Spike’s cock became a blur and their mouths crashed together, tongues battling for domination, blood streaming down their faces.
Nicci rose with them, the scent of blood and arousal sending his demon into a frenzy. Spike and Angelus oblivious to his presence until Nicci’s lips fastened onto Spike’s exposed neck and his hand joined Angelus’, working with him to push the youngest beyond the barriers of control. A haze of male musk and blood swirled around and through them, saturating nostrils and leaving mouths dripping in its wake. Acres of satin silky skin touched and caressed, begging for fulfilment. The only sounds were those of flesh against flesh and the occasional heave for unneeded air. All else vanishing as the world compressed wrapping the three of them tightly in a maelstrom of need.
Spike’s wail of "Please, sire," pushed Angelus past the point of no return. Roaring, he slashed his fangs into his childe’s straining neck, opening deep gashes that flooded with blood. It spilled down in scarlet rivulets, drenching Spike’s pale torso, and Nicci pursued with his tongue, reaching Spike’s cock in time to capture his spilling seed. Shuddering through his own vicarious orgasm as the mixed flavours burst on his tongue, Nicci returned to share the taste with his lover as the sounds of Angelus’ completion filled his ears.
Stunned and breathless, they collapsed onto the bed, Angelus having the sense to topple sideways thus sparing Nicci the ignominious experience of being crushed under a pile of sated vampire.
It was a while before any of them came around enough to move, and when they did it was a slow rearrangement that left them curled up together in a tired tangle of limbs.
"No fuckfuckfuck?"
The amused question brushed past Spike’s ear and it took a moment for him to grasp the meaning. A contented smile crawled across his face and he dropped a kiss on the dusky chest beneath his cheek. "Yeah, in my head. Didn’t have the air to spare."
"Oh. I thought that maybe I was better."
Spike glanced up at Nicci expecting to find disappointment and saw instead wickedly gleaming eyes and a mock pout, which he proceeded to kiss away. Then something occurred to him. Breaking the kiss, he stared down at his lover and frowned. "You came. Without… you know. How?"
Nicci laughed appreciatively. "Who couldn’t witnessing a performance like that." He ran a finger down Spike’s cheek and reached up for another brief kiss before purring, "You two are magnificent together. Picture perfect."
Feigning sleep, Angelus listened as the two younger vampires chatted amiably, and realised with a start that Nicci was right. The sex had been good. His cock twitched enthusiastically at the memory - make that very good. He’d expected it to be tame, pedestrian even, without the high off the violence, but the fact that the victim was willing had made the eventual capitulation all the sweeter. William submitted so agreeably when he wanted to come, rather like Dru did.
Maybe he’d finally hit on the correct rod to use. Beatings didn’t gain the fledgling’s obedience, and last week’s ‘experiment’ hadn’t worked either, but maybe sex would. There was probably nothing he couldn’t get from the boy at the right moment. Only by ‘making love’ to Spike, Angelus thought with a sudden twist of glee, would it be possible to break him.
***
"It’s a bargain." Giving the female fledgling he’d just purchased a last once over, Angelus pulled a brass key from his pocket and threw it to Joshua saying, "As of tomorrow night the house will be empty. The rent is due on the fifteenth day of each month, though by then you won’t have to worry about paying for anything." He grinned viciously.
Joshua didn’t return it, tossing the key thoughtfully from hand to hand instead. "It’s not a foregone conclusion, Angelus, if the others should band together…"
His concerns were waved away, "Wastrels and scum, not a potential master amongst them. London is yours if you’re man enough to take her." Angelus paused a moment and then added, "Though you might want to keep an eye on that Jew of yours. He certainly spilled your plans to me without much persuasion."
Joshua looked worried and Angelus smirked triumphantly. That should put the cat firmly among the pigeons. The city would be a blood bath within days.
"Ready to go then, mate?"
In an instant the expression on Angelus’ face went from malicious happiness to just plain malicious, and he caught the surprised fledging with a hard cuff round the ear. "Angelus or sire. I am not your mate and I never will be. Understand me, boy!"
For a second their eyes met and locked, and then Spike looked away, scuffing his feet and mumbling unintelligibly.
"What was that? I didn’t quite hear you." Came the smug question.
Defiant blue eyes glared up at him and, enunciating overly clearly, Spike replied, "Yes, Angelus. I understand you."
From the shadows of the bedroom doorway Nicci watched the interaction with a growing sense of dread. There was something about Angelus that reminded Nicci of the Master, an underlying viciousness and cruelty. A desire to take everything in the world and twist it until it reflected his own distorted image of himself. Joshua still carried elements of it, and although Nicci did his best to ignore or work round them, sometimes his lover’s nature revealed its perverted side.
Pushing his unhappy thoughts away, Nicci tightened his grip on the small bag in his hand and called out quietly, "Spike? I have something for you."
At Angelus’ nod of permission, Spike stuck his hands deep into the pockets of his too big trousers and wandered nonchalantly back to the bedroom. "What’s this then?"
Wordlessly, Nicci held out the bag. Spike took it and started to pull open the tape that secured it shut, a loud mocking commentary accompanying his actions. "A going away prezzie? Really, you shouldn’t have, love. Unless it’s fer services rendered. Gonna miss yer Uncle Spike?"
Nicci refused to rise to the bait, recognising bravado when he saw it, and simply touched Spike’s hand gently to indicate that the bag should remain closed. Then he whispered. "You’re a good man, William, remember that." Spike glanced up and for a moment, before the hard mask slammed back into place, Nicci caught a small glimpse of the gentle soul he had come to know over the last few days.
Then, with nothing more than an acknowledging nod, Spike was gone, Angelus and the new lady’s maid hard on his heels. Nicci gazed sadly at the empty door and then smiled, as back through the darkening night an irate voice bellowed, "Bloody hell, Angelus! Jersey?!"
TBC in Part Two of this series – Demon’s Aria.
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