Title - Contact

Author - Spirit

Rating - NC17 - for severe language, sex and food abuse.

Pairing - Angel/Spike

Spoilers - In the Dark

Feedback - Yes please, always welcome

Disclaimers - None of these characters belong to me. It's often lamented, but they don't and I have to just pretend to control them. Oh to be their puppet master!

CONTACT

By Spirit

Angel turned the corner, pausing a moment before he finally gave in and parked the car.

This hotel was on the seedier side, but since their options were no longer as wide as they'd been a few months ago, it was the remaining port in the storm. It seemed that the discarded tubs of gel, cigarette burns

on the remaining sheets and constant noise were unwelcome. He supposed that Spike's natural affinity for theft hadn't helped - most people take towels, few remove the contents of the entire room. As of now, there

was a bedstead inside a Sunnydale crypt with Hotel de la Luna embossed on the underside.

He hadn't taken part in the theft...not entirely anyway. Spike had hefted the gear out, cigarette clamped between his teeth, humming something that could only be called a tune. As talented as the vampire was,

holding a note wasn't in Spike's repertoire. But Angel had stood there in the rain, watching as his car had a bed strapped to the roof and aside from a token protest, he'd said nothing about this latest escapade in

larceny. He'd been quiet mainly because it wouldn't do any good, mostly because he was still having trouble standing up straight.

Angel had a suspicion that these thefts were planned, and tried to make a timetable in his head. As far as he could gather, prior to each 'borrowing' session, there had been another, more interesting act, one which rendered him incapable of objecting to anything. He felt as though they were in competition - the better the sex, the nearer he was to adding a further felony to his record. And the hotel staff were noticing.

Complaints had filtered down to the reception desk, and gradually he'd been faced by a black listing policy regarding Angel and his...other half. He wasn't quite sure how they passed the description round, but

after several phone calls, he was growing used to the tone.

'Hi, I'd like to book a room for the weekend?'

'Just one moment sir.'

Silence, whilst Angel winced at his own forced cheerfulness. There was something about being on the phone that went against his nature. Perhaps it was the focus on small talk - something he'd only excelled at

whilst drunk and human. As Angellus, it was always large talk or maiming. Okay, and occasionally seducing, but he couldn't remember a lot of forced conversation back then.

At least not from his side.

'Sir?'

'Yeah?'

'We do have a vacancy, may I take your name please?'

'Jones,' he'd muttered, wincing at the obviousness. He might as well have called himself Mr I-need-sex or Mr Bendover and have done with it. He'd said as such to Spike, and for one memorable weekend, they'd been the Shagworthy's when the Blond had done the booking.

Angel had taken that responsibility ever since.

'Jones, did you say?'

'Yes.'

'Jones, Angel Jones?'

He bit down on his lip, wanting to say no, but the weariness of lying had gotten to him lately.

'Yes?' he said tentatively.

Immediately, the receptionist's tone grew harsher and he'd cursed his curse, his misplaced faith in humanity and Spike's habit of making him growl so loudly that people in the next city could hear.

'I made a mistake, that room's been taken.'

'But you said...'

'I made a mistake.'

And he was left with the dull dialing tone again.

So here he was, parked outside a place that probably had more rats than he'd eaten over the last hundred years. And it didn't matter how many niggling doubts he had about whether he should go inside, because it

wasn't his brain that did the thinking.

A year had passed since the agreement, such as it was, had taken place in his apartment. Defeated by Angel's friends and a serious lack of judgement, Spike had loped inside and slumped on the sofa, waiting for his sire to come down from the rooftop. His hair was all singed, and he stank of whiskey, but Angel found himself unsurprised at finding the vampire there.

In fact, that particular smell was the thing he needed the most, even if it was just to beat the crap out of him. And after a day of torturing by a freakish pedophile with a music fetish, he should quit the beating

and just stake the bloody vampire. He had the stake, the opportunity, and yet...

*

'Will,' he nodded before sinking down on the opposite side of the sofa.

'Peaches,' was the quiet reply.

And there was a moment of silence, when Angel was aware of lines being relaxed, an uneasy peace descending. He had, Angel admitted now, a tendency to underestimate Spike - it was a holdover from that other existence, when he had been the teacher. If he'd been less angry, less enraged about this invasion of his territory, he would have seen that.

But he wasn't, and he hadn't.

Spike leaned over and grabbed the bottle he'd brought from the table.

'So, pet,' he said, before biting the cork and spitting it onto the floor, 'we gonna keep this up?'

He swigged a gulp and hesitated only fractionally before offering it to Angel.

The dark vampire stared at the bottle, then up at his childe. That grin had always been impossible to resist, and all occasions of its use had ended in fighting or shagging.

And they'd done with the fighting...at least for today.

Angel took the bottle and knocked it back.

'You're a real piece of work, Spike.'

'I know, pet. That's why you haven't killed me yet.'

Angel ignored him and swallowed.

'Hey there, don't drink it all. Not exactly rolling in it these days.'

The dark vampire grinned.

'Rolling in what, Spike? Cause you're not exactly smelling of roses.'

Spike snorted.

'And you smell like you only pissed yourself once in there. '

He took the bottle back, to Angel's well hidden dismay.

'You know what I'm talking about.'

Angel shook his head.

'I haven't the time, or the interest to try and figure out what you talk about. It's been drivel since Paris.'

'I didn't fucking like Paris. Full of the bloody French.'

Angel grinned and grabbed the bottle back.

'I remember - you nearly starved that year.'

'Only cause you kept insisting on eating the toffs. They reeked of garlic...made me puke.'

The older vampire tilted the bottle against his lips.

'The way you stank, I hardly thought you'd notice.'

The blond grinned, rendering parts of Angel's inactive body...active.

'You loved it.'

Whiskey sprayed over the table as Angel roared with laughter.

'What's so bloody funny?'

'Me loving it.'

'You fucking did.'

The older man leant back and stared at the ceiling. Such days, when they'd hidden from the light, finding ways to pass the hours. Minutes had stretched into infinity, but the quality of that moan...it was always too brief, and just for that moment, Angellus had believed he'd achieved conquest.

Foolish idea, but altogether too pleasant to discard.

He turned to the Englishman.

'You tortured me.'

Spike shrugged.

'You escaped. I'm the poor sod who got stitched up. No interest in the gem - my arse.'

He shrugged at Angel.

'At least your rep hasn't been wanked about all over the pavement.'

Angel shook his head.

'No, but I am going to be nursing big holes in my body.'

Another grin, quicksilver; there and gone before he could be sure he'd seen it.

'The only big hole in your body is the one you talk through.'

'Nice image, Spike.'

'It's true though, you can't talk unless it's crap you're spouting. Gaining a soul didn't change your sorry arse that much.'

Angel rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock. It had been a long day by anyone's account, and his body needed time to recuperate. And he just didn't trust the vampire to let himself out. He wasn't sure what he was more afraid of - being alone with Spike and so many handy weapons, or just being alone with Spike.

He had to make the effort.

'Look, it's late, I'm tired and I don't think I want to listen to you cuss your way through the night.'

'Can't handle it, eh. Ears gone all sensitive along with your brain?'

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Angel laughed softly.

'Why did you come here?'

The blond shrugged and slugged the last of the bottle.

'Got nowhere else to stay. Thought I could come and find out if you had the gem or not. And you haven't, and you're alive, which leads me to the worst fucking conclusion I could have.'

He picked up Angel's hand and rubbed along the finger which had worn the gem. Cold as ever, the dark vampire's body barely noticed any change in temperature. But more than just his brain registered that this was the first time he had been touched by Spike in over a century.

Touching - aside from Buffy's caresses, and the occasional brush with other members of the scooby gang, no one had laid hands on him since he'd regained his soul. Embraces were not his to take, and whilst Doyle

and Cordelia patched him up on an irritatingly frequent basis, their fingers left his body all too quickly. He was beginning to crave that pressure on his skin - not through fabric, or accidental pressure, but the sensitive nerve endings tingling under the flesh of another. No amount of time in the dark could compensate for that lack.

No amount of brooding could distract him from the need.

Spike's slim digits traveled the length of his hand, dipping into the hollows of his palm. He cast a casual gaze up to meet Angel and the edge of his mouth twitched up.

'You threw the damn thing away, didn't you?'

Angel swallowed.

'I...I crushed it.'

His hand was still in Spike's.

'Wanker,' said Spike, but there was little malice in the tone. One thing Angel did remember from back then was the Englishman's ability to cut his losses. Spike had often walked out on a feast before anyone else,

survival being more important than being caught with the body. He wasn't afraid of the fighting, never had been, but Spike was a survivor, the one protegee he had who'd remained sane.

And he was still stroking his fingers.

'You knew I wouldn't keep it.'

Spike chuckled and reached inside his pocket for his cigarettes. He stared at his hand until Angel released it, slightly embarrassed - more disappointed in the loss of contact. And Spike knew that, he was sure,

but as to what he'd do or say about it, Angel could only wait.

And waiting suddenly seemed very unattractive.

Spike lit the end and inhaled deeply, before turning back to Angel.

'Yeah, I knew. It's written into your penalty clause isn't it? Thou shalt not have any sodding fun.'

'There's people who need me.'

'There's always people who need you, comes of looking like the shag of the century.'

He grinned again.

'Course, you've been playing second place for a few years now.'

Angel frowned.

'In your dreams, Spike. You were never a contender when I walked in a room.'

And that grin was definitely back for good this time.

'And I thought it was because you scared off the competition.'

Angel blinked. That had definitely been a come on, hadn't it? He hadn't lost touch completely with that whole people-wanting-to-seduce you game? And even back then, Spike had dropped innuendo as easily as he dropped corpses.

Dear God, he was sitting on his sofa, with the spoilt childe he should have offed long before and he was having...unsavory thoughts. Actually, that really wasn't true. They were savory, far too savory and...yeah,

he was salivating at the thought. Spike in his room, naked, drink in one hand and the other...trailing across his flesh, touching all those places that begged to be touched.

He shook his head - it really had been too long between contact.

'You gonna brood about this all day, pet. Or take what's on offer?'

'What is on offer?'

Spike leant back again, grinning lazily, cigarette taking slow trips to his mouth. Angel watched as the lips closed round the tip, his brain, or at least the part which was currently passing as his brain, imagining all sorts of acts involving that mouth. And he wasn't thinking about sucking.

Angel prided himself on not being that obvious.

Licking, biting...devouring maybe, but not sucking.

'What's on offer?' he repeated. 'Another chance for you to try and rip me apart?'

'You fancy that?'

Angel shrugged.

'It's been one of those days. Nothing would surprise me.'

He smiled.

'Not even you turning up on my sofa.'

And that cigarette was still gripped between his knuckles, trailing smoke, drawing all Angel's remaining attention to that mouth. Pain, pleasure, as long as he got something from it.

As long as he could feel...

Spike sniffed.

'I was thinking more like a time-out.'

Angel frowned.

'Isn't that a type of candy?'

He could feel the contempt coming off Spike in waves.

'Candy? You really have gone bloody native...in all things but the sodding culture!'

'You've lost me.'

'Wouldn't take much, pet. I've known you to get lost in your own mansion.'

Angel tilted his head.

'I was drunk - you'd blindfolded me.'

Spike chuckled.

'Should have gagged you as well. Not that you make a big hoo har these days.'

Angel grinned briefly, feeling Spike a mere breath away.

Oh and closer. He was leaning forward.

'So what do you mean?'

His fingers were shifting again. That cigarette was done, finished and his hands needed something to play with. Angel resisted the temptation to make a suggestion. It didn't seem to matter - Spike was full of them.

'We could call it a time out. Forget all this arsing around with the Slayer, all this crappy being enemies thing.'

'We are enemies - you like killing humans.'

'So do you, you just have this big Catholic guilt trip going on. Stops you raiding the local larder.'

Angel let the comment pass, knowing it was true, not currently caring.

'So a time out...to do what? Play chess?'

Oh now that was classy. When have you known Spike to play anything other than cards or darts? When have you known him to touch anything that didn't have money involved? When have you...

'I was talking about shagging, mate.'

Okay, so this would be when.

'Sex,' Angel managed, 'you want to have sex.'

'Every day I've woken up on this planet,' grinned Spike, 'but I was thinking about it specifically entailing you and me in a non dangerous mode.'

Angel shook his head.

'Everything you do is dangerous. It always has been.'

The blond rolled his eyes.

'So we'll have dangerous sex then!'

He huffed.

'Come on, pet. It's been a hard bloody day and I'm blue balling already. You up for it or what?'

'What, definitely,' said Angel.

He tried not to think about the possibilities. Spike naked, pinned to his bed. Spike, naked, pressed up against the sideboard. Spike, naked, sitting on the coffee table.

Spike - naked.

'You're thinking about me naked, aren't you?'

'No,' snapped Angel. 'I was thinking...about...how to kick your ass out of here.'

His childe leant forward and grinned.

'You were, weren't you?'

'No!'

'Liar. You're all scrunched up. Definite sign of an Angel whopper.'

Angel cringed and hoped the bulge in his pants wasn't noticeable enough to come under that catagory too. Anger and desire - the two words that completely described his relationship with his childe. Two sides of

passion his mind whispered. Go on, you want him - he knows it, you know it.

Go on.

'My curse,' he said quickly. 'It's not like sex can be on the menu for me.'

Spike ran his tongue up over a currently non-fangy tooth.

'Perfect happiness clause? You really think that's going to activated by a good shag with yours truly?'

You've made my eyes cross before.

'No,' said Angel, 'but I'm not exactly up to tempting fate.'

'Fuck fate! All I'm talking about is sex. It's hardly universe altering. Although,' and that grin flashed at him again, 'I think we've caused a few tremors in our time.'

The older vampire tried to cringe at the memory. It wasn't working. Some things were just too damn good to forget. And although perfect happiness was a long way from here, surely it couldn't hurt to try a little

imperfect happiness.

Could it?

'Why would I want to bother seducing you?'

And Spike was there now, his hand lingering above Angel's own, the promise of the past brought deliciously into the present. A whole new area, where he didn't have to worry about consequences, or whether this was right for them...an area of free will. It would be a...what was it that Spike had said? Oh yeah, a time out. He could do this now, have this now, and then tomorrow they could go back to opposite sides of the good fight, tensions eased, and a whole grin better for it.

He looked up into Spike's face, where his recent thoughts had obviously passed a while back. And they'd been replaced by much more immediate

needs.

And they all seemed to involve whipped cream.

'Okay,' he said slowly, 'but this is only for tonight. I don't relish you being here in the morning.'

Spike tilted his head, lips wet with the movement of his tongue. Kissing distance, Angel thought, and his clothes suddenly felt far too inhibiting. What he needed was to get them off and start exploring clean pale

flesh, not a yard away from his own.

'Time out, pet, remember. I'll despise you just as much in the morning if it makes you feel better.'

And there was no more thinking, just a near blissful exchange of everything he'd been missing for the last hundred years. Perfect happiness, he mused, was definitely overrated.

~~~

And all that was a year since.

Spike adjusted the settings, wondering if he'd actually gone over the top. He wasn't entirely certain that it was possible to go over the top in these circumstances, but the last thing he wanted was Angel walking in and losing all interest in sex because he was so stunned at the decor.

It had, he admitted, required more work than Spike was really willing to do. When Angel had phoned yesterday, confirming the time and place, the Englishman had been reticent, agreeing to meet up by mid evening. He could hear Angel's disappointment and frustration as he grinned. Tough shit mate, I'm not in this for the romance. A voice in his head asked quietly what he was in this for, but he bit down on the thought. They'd agreed that this time existed out of what passed for their lives these days, and it had been Spike's insistence that had kept it that way.

The Inititiative had done their level best to destroy him, not least by implanting an oh so casual chip in his head. That they considered him neutered did little to reassure Spike. After a century or so of maiming

and killing at will, he found this new life more than just restricting. He was used to being the big man, the leader, and more than that, the one who'd get things done the way he liked it.

This was unacceptable in so many ways, and yet he was learning to live with it, learning to cope with it alone.

The way he'd always done.

Angel had attempted to bring it up once, asking whether he might find it easier in LA. Under Angel's protection wasn't actually said, but in the dark, and in the warmth of a real bed, Spike resented the

inferrence. He wasn't a child. And for that matter, he was no longer really a childe either - having long since lost the need for a sire. This situation, the deal they had almost silently struck, only worked if they were equals. If Angel returned each time because of desire, it suited them both.

If he came from pity, it could end there and then.

'Spike?'

The younger vampire had rolled onto his side and slid his hand under the covers. With Angel's full attention, he'd winked and wordlessly taught the Irishman what he'd been thinking about all day.

They were only in it for the sex and it suited them both.

And if Spike had come to look foward to these weekends more than he ought, well that was okay too, as long as Angel never found out.

He looked up and around him at the decorations.

This might be a big hint.

As his hand stretched out to pull the nearest streamer down, Spike heard the key turn in the lock. His fingers dropped to his pockets and he pulled out his fags, lighting one quickly as the door pushed open.

Fuck it, may as well go with the idea.

'Happy anniversary,' said Spike waving the tip towards the banner above the door.

Angel paused, his hand still nervously clasping the handle.

'Happy what?'

Spike huffed and pointed again.

'Anniversary, you know, that thing where a year passes and everyone has a do.'

'A do?'

'A party - fuck, Angel, did you ever get that stick out of your arse?'

The dark vampire seemed to realise that Spike's voice carried a long way and closed the door behind him, leaving them alone in a room full of party favours.

'So we're celebrating an anniversary? A year since I didn't kill you?'

Spike grinned and took a long drag.

'Try a year since you realised how nice this arse is and how much you missed being up close and personal with it.'

Angel raised a stoic eyebrow.

'You bought a card and gift as well?'

Spike pulled out a mangled ribbon and stuck it on his lapel.

'I scratched the card - never too sure of the spelling of "Irish poufter".'

He grinned.

'Anyway, I thought you'd be happy enough unwrapping your present.'

Oh, and we score two eyebrows raised for that comment.

Angel moved further into the room, looking over the decorations and presumably wondering where they'd been stolen from. His hands were laced in front of him, keeping that duster tightly on his body. Even now, he was still uncertain about this arrangement. And that bothered Spike - not so much that he was consorting with the enemy, but that the enemy considered this to be a bad move.

Perhaps time was running out.

'I take it the manager doesn't know about all this?'

Spike rolled his eyes.

'Look, he's been paid, I don't really want to nick anything from this dive, and we've got a few days of mindless sex ahead. You really bothered what that knob-end thinks?'

Angel shrugged.

'We're blacklisted from enough hotels as it is.'

'So?'

'So, to be blacklisted from this...dive, just about knocks this whole thing on the head.'

He sat down on the double bed next to Spike's, looking gloomily at the floor. Bugger it all, thought Spike, if we pull something back quick, I'm going to spend the entire time with moping boy. And I'm fucked if

I'm doing that.

He moved over to sit next to his sire.

'Pet, we've got two choices here. We can either try your arse about face method of enjoying yourself, otherwise known as feeling miserable as Hell...'

Angel turned and looked at him.

'Been there, used to that.'

'Helps take your mind off stuff?'

'No.'

'Right then, point made.'

They sat there quietly for a whole minute whilst Spike waited for Angel's curiosity to get the better of him. He wasn't disappointed.

'So, the other way?'

Spike grinned and reached below the bed. He could feel Angel's anticipation as clearly as his own, and the stiffening length below his belt was growing warmer. Pulling out the items he'd secluded there, Spike met

the heavily burdened brown eyes.

'We celebrate this good style. A jelly and ice cream party.'

Angel looked at him, then down at the dishes and back up to Spike.

'Jelly and ice cream? Isn't that jello?'

Spike rolled his eyes.

"Look man, you're from the other side of the channel, you should remember the differences. Jello's just the yank word for it.'

Angel nodded.

'Right, so it's jello.'

'Yes.'

'And it's rabbit shaped.'

'I had a mold'

'Rabbit shaped, with its ears cut off.'

Spike shrugged.

'I'm a vampire, not Ainsley bloody Harriot.'

Angel nodded again.

'And those are sprinkles?'

'Hundreds and thousands, yes, pet.'

'And the red sauce?'

'Virgin blood.'

Angel glared at him and Spike pushed the dish into his lap.

'Oh for fucks sake, lighten up, love. It's not like I'd waste good blood on your sorry arse.'

Angel continued to glare at him.

'Oh all right, it's just strawberry sauce. Happy now, oh miserable one?'

The older vampire ignored him and lifted a spoonful of the suspicious sauce to his nose. It was all melting, but it's smell was innocent enough.

'Anything to drink with all this party food?'

Spike nodded and gestured to the side table.

'Bit of JD, and a serious Irish malt. Thought it might cause a smile to appear on that stoneyface of yours.'

His sire nodded gravely and licked the spoon.

'You did all this for me?'

Shit - he thinks I'm being sentimental. Quick, insult his..anything, upbringing, feeding habits, dick...okay, can't do that, but say something, don't let him think that you're being soft about the whole thing.

Spike yelped as his cigarette burned against his fingers. He stamped the still lit stump out with his boots, and lifted his hand to his mouth, ready to suck his painful hand.

But Angel was there first, slipping the injured digits into his mouth, tongue sliding over the healing wounds. It was all the blond could do to keep his eyes open. His entire body reacted to the contact, chilling

within his clothes, wanting to shiver under the pressure.

He shuddered and Angel looked up, desire echoed in his face. Time out, he'd said, this is where nothing else counts, and need is everything.

I need you now.

'Wanna eat?'

And that rare grin was definitely there now, half his mouth up, half down, eyes hooded, and his pants tented. Oh yeah, this one's game.

'Let's start with the jello.'

Spike grinned.

'Jelly.'

'Whatever.'

*

Tangled in the sheets, Angel lay back and stared at the ceiling. His body was nicely warm, partly due to the heating Spike had insisted on turning up to maximum, mostly due to the exertions of the last hour. It

was all too pleasant lying here, in this bed,a body draped over his, and ice cream smeared wherever his childe could reach. His own hands were sticky, but for once his fastidiousness was out of the window, and all he wanted to do was to gorge himself in this feast of flesh and dessert.

Spike had actually been embarrassed by this attempt to celebrate, that was painfully obvious. But he'd made the attempt, and he'd done nothing more than desire Angel's presence, Angel's body by his side.

Of course, as always, that was over once they walked out of here, and went back to doing what they both did. Spike refused to talk about his change in circumstance, but Angel couldn't help feeling the loss of

weight and the prominence of his bones. The need to take charge, to take Spike in was growing stronger, but he knew his assistance was unwelcome, and more than that, an insult to his once peerless childe.

He'd come to think of these moments as his 'real life' - anything he did outside here was for some other purpose than his own need. Here, he could concentrate on what mattered to him, and atoning seemed a lifetime away. It wasn't exactly the relationship they'd once had - neither one of them walked out with bruises or lash marks - but they could get that kind of treatment elsewhere. He dealt with people who wanted to kill him every time he opened his eyes, at least in this limbo, that wasn't a concern.

Nothing mattered, just the bliss of the moment.

'Oi, peaches.'

He looked down as Spike propped himself up on one elbow, hair mussed up and looking entirely pleased with himself. Strawberry gel coated the corner of his lip, and there were several sprinkles stuck to his

shoulder.

Angel didn't think he'd seen such a pleasant sight in decades.

'What?' he asked softly.

Spike grinned and shifted on top of him, sliding his hands up to cover Angel's own. It felt good to be pinned, and from the solid mass pressing into his belly, Angel guessed the fun hadn't stopped yet. And that

wicked grin was tantalizingly close.

'What?'

'I never showed you the piece de resistance, did I?'

Angel raised an eyebrow.

'I thought you hated the French?'

The younger vampire rolled his eyes and squeezed Angel's hands.

'Them yes, but I'm fucked if I can think of a better word in English.'

Angel grinned.

'The climax,' he suggested innocently.

The chuckle rippled through his childe's body and Angel found his hardening cock responding eagerly. Much more of this and he was going to have to press the issue, curiosity or not.

'Go on then, what's the piece de...'

'The climax'

'...the climax then, what else did you bring?'

Spike pushed himself up and slid off Angel's body, much to the older man's dismay.

'Close your eyes then.'

Angel huffed and closed them. He tried to guess what it was by listening, but all he could hear was Spike swearing at a box, then what sounded like his lighter flicking on.

A hand covered his eyes before he could open them.

'Don't even think of peeking, pet. It took me ages to get this sorted.'

Angel obligingly closed his eyes and tried not to squirm in anticipation. He could hear the click of the lighter, and wondered what in Hell Spike had bought, before the hand slipped away from his face, and the

pressure of his lover's body was deliciously back.

'All right then, you can look.'

Angel opened his eyes and blinked at the light from the bedside table. On its surface sat an eighteen inch cake with a deep blue ribbon wrapped round its middle. 'Time out - one year and counting' was emblazoned

on the ribbon. And on the top, countless candles flickered with heat.

Angel's jaw dropped.

'You like it?'

The older vampire blinked against the intense light.

'How many candles are on that thing?'

'300.'

'300?'

'Yeah. It would have been 365, but I couldn't fit them on the cake.'

Angel shook his head.

'You'll set the smoke detector off.'

'Impossible.'

'Why?'

'I took the bugger out.'

Angel looked from the cake to Spike's face, recognizing the shadows the candles highlighted. He was beautiful - etched with a chisel and then baked in a lecherous oven.

'Well?'

He smiled.

'It's definitely a climax.'

Spike chuckled and bent to kiss him, lips pressing eagerly against his own.

'I knew you'd like it.'

And conversation was lost once more to touch, Spike's fingers traveling an educated length, touching the sensitive nerves, lingering as Angel's hips bucked upwards. Angel's hands clasped his childe's neck,

imprisoning him against his mouth, feeling Spike's tongue slip inside, exploring a once well known area.

He could feel his body strain to join the one above him, his thighs tangling with the sheets as flesh slapped against flesh, and the narrower chest rubbed against his own. Angel's hips rocked, the rhythm echoed by

Spike's body, erections pressed against bellies, the tender skin slipping up and down, wiry hair causing tremors to flood his system.

It wasn't perfect, but it was close. it wasn't forever, but it would come again. It wasn't over, but it was always the now, always the two of them, and always the same feeling of coming home.

'Oh Will,' he murmured.

He was growing warmer, his body growing closer to the edge, his mouth still caressing Spike's lips. Kissing, touching and needing more, feeling as close as he was allowed to be to anyone, recapturing a lost

desire, claiming it for his own. And he was hot, warming as his body started to reach the point of no return, and he could feel his balls throb, the pressure growing to be too much. And it was all now, all here and...

Whoomph!

'Angel!'

He moaned as his semen spilled onto Spike's belly, the younger vampire's cry lost in the passion of the moment.

'Angel!'

This compensated for so much, and he knew, at least he hoped that Spike felt the same way. It was just too good to leave alone, and whilst they had these moments, he could continue fighting the good fight, doing

what needed to be done.

'For God's sake, Angel, the bed's on fire!'

His eyes flashed open as the flames licked as his legs. they leapt out of the bed, beating at the sheets as the cake fell off the table and landed next to the open bottles of whiskey. Blue looked up quickly into brown and they ran to the door, hurling it open and running, naked, into the parking lot.

Fire started to lick out of the door, and various doors started opening, curious neighbors starting to panic at the quickly spreading flames. if anyone noticed the bare asses that ran towards the black car at the rear of the lot, they didn't mention it. They were after all, only human and their interest was in the drama in front of them.

Angel sat in the car, staring at the blaze and wondering why these things always happened to him when Spike was around. He heard chuckling, and turned to see his childe, tears streaming down his face as he watched their latest hotel room burst into a scene from Carrie.

'You think this is funny.'

Spike nodded and Angel looked back into the flames.

This was ridiculous. They were naked, stuck in his car and he'd put his seat belt on out of habit. And Spike, far from being annoyed about losing play time, was laughing as though laughing gas was being given out as freely as condoms.

His lips twitched and Angel found himself struggling to suppress his own laughter.

'Fuck,' he muttered.

Spike laughed louder, one hand falling onto Angel's thigh.

'You think we've been blacklisted again, pet?'

Angel chuckled in spite of himself.

'Like I wanted to come back here anyway.'

Spike struggled to get his laughter under control.

'Yeah, it's such a prime piece of real estate.'

Deep vampiric chuckles filled the car for several minutes as they watched the humans attempt to bring it under control. As the various sirens started echoing in the distance, Angel started the engine and drove

away.

'Where to?' he asked Spike.

The younger vampire shrugged.

'Search me, pet. I've no idea. Where do bare-ass vamps go when they've still got nookie to have?'

The grin was still threatening Angel's lips, but he really did need to know the answer.

'I think we've worn out our welcome everywhere.'

Spike shrugged.

'There's always the crypt.'

'There's always a sewer, but I'm not going down there.'

Spike reached into the glove compartment, looking for a spare pack of fags. He found none.

'Oh I don't know, pet. You think of something. Or do you want to call this off before we burn the whole of LA down. Although...' he grinned, 'that's not an entirely bad idea.'

Angel shook his head and looked out into the night sky.

'We'll find somewhere. Maybe use aliases, or just lie about your habits.'

Spike shrugged and stared into the black.

'All right then pet, you call the place.'

And the car traveled in relative silence, two vampires in search of a place they could be themselves, a place where even the strangest of relationships could exist. Angel had come to think that perfection was something he could easily live without - all they had to do was find somewhere they could be imperfect in.

And if it was Spike-proof it would help.

~finis~