SPIKED
By Ten
RATING: NC-17 - SLASH! Lots and lots of it!
PAIRING: Spike/cement block ... lots of slash
SUMMARY: S6 Spike is visited by another-dimension Spike and his family who teach him about acceptance.
SPOILERS: Up through "Dead Things"
DISCLAIMER: All AtS and BtVS characters belong to the god which is Joss Whedon (all hail and bow low before him), and WB, UPN, ME and some other people, but not me. Baby belongs to Ebony Silvers.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: Thank you, Ebs, for letting me play in your sandbox!
CHAPTER 1 - Explorer
Spike woke to the sound of the shower running. He felt someone still in the bed with him, but even without opening his eyes he could tell from the cool, smooth chest pressed against his back that it was his other self, the duplicate Spike from some future dimension who had made such a promising and powerful life for himself.
Over the last week, he had been fascinated hearing the tale of how the other Spike had saved Jenny Calendar from Angelus and left Sunnydale with some strange woman, of how the two of them had built an impressive empire, with Spike quickly becoming the Master of New Orleans, and his family and power quickly spreading across the South. This Spike was confident, self-assured, and, from all appearances, a truly powerful leader. He was everything that he himself wanted to be. This Spike had everything in his life that he himself wanted to have, and from all indications it was due to the introduction of this one woman into the older Spike's life at an important juncture in time. It was astonishing how one person could make such a difference in the path of someone's life.
It was that person, the one they all called Baby, who was in the shower now. He smiled a bit to himself thinking that perhaps it was wasted effort, for if he had his choice, he and his counterpart would make another Baby Sundae when she returned. Maybe it would add a much-needed tension breaker. Perhaps some chocolate and marshmallows would help to rinse away the bad taste Buffy's tantrums and childishness had left in all of their mouths.
It had been impressive the way the family had begun to repair and heal itself after the disasters of last week. Buffy had almost pulled off one of those things she seemed to do so well, take a solid realtionship and reduce it to rubble. Spike had been delighted when everything had resolved and Baby & Spike had invited him into their bed. It was a little like parents bringing a frightened child in with them to reassure him that things were okay. It had worked. He felt at peace and reassured that how he had handled the situation had not damaged their marriage. He smiled and settled onto his back, tucking his hands beneath his head, his elbows brushing the curls on the top of the elder Spike's head.
It had been an incredible week. Even with the conflicts, he'd experienced an overwhelming sense of belonging that he hadn't felt since the old days of the Scourge with Angelus, Darla and Drusilla. But Baby and the Spike from the future, they were both amazing; and he wondered how much of the man the older Spike became was because of her rather than of his own doing. Baby had refused to believe she'd had that much to do with it, but the younger Spike knew how she made him feel, even though he was not the Spike of her universe. If he had someone like her in his life, perhaps he would also be the master of New Orleans rather than the shattered emotional wreck he felt himself to be now. He kept his bravado up as much as he could, but Baby had been right when she revealed to him exactly how he felt. She knew too well how much Buffy hurt him with every vindictive look, word, and punch she threw at him.
The tenderness and inclusion of the playfully romantic interlude last night had been such a delightful contrast to his sexfests with Buffy, but it was the rewards afterward which really stuck with him. Sleeping still coupled and wrapped in each other had given him a night which would set the standard for all others. Not because of the incredible sex, but because of his sense of belonging and acceptance. He knew that was what he was looking for, urgently needing in his unlife. To belong. To be so totally accepted. And loved for who he was not in spite of it.
His duplicate roused a little and moved in, draping his arm across the younger Spike's chest and pulling in closer to him. Cool breath caressed his neck, odd considering they didn't need to breath, but something about sleeping intertwined brought that out in these familial vampires. It was an unspoken way of verifying their presence by the movement and sound of it. It was very reassuring and dragged Spike's focus back to the naked man pressed against him.
The older Spike drapped his leg over the younger's thigh and crawled up further into his neck. Spike the younger took this as an overt invitation and wrapped his left arm around the sleeping vampire, unconsciously stroking his arm and shoulder lightly.
Succumbing to the obvious temptation of it, he admired their bodies for a moment, comparing and contrasting, trying to find subtle differences between them. Both of them were taut and well-shaped, had muscular stomachs, legs, and arms. Their hands were the same, their feet, as well as all those delightful parts barely hidden beneath the light sheet. In fact, their bodies were eerily identical. Considering the different lives they had led in the last few years, one would expect them to be a bit dissimilar, but other than their hair color, and a subtle difference in scent, there was no real difference at all. At least not physically.
Older Spike nuzzled his twin's neck, a little more awake now. Nuzzles became kisses. Kisses became moans and whispers and licks. The younger vampire stiffened a little, this was becoming a bit unsettling. It was one thing to be intimate with Baby between them, but this felt strange. It was him doing this to himself, only it was him 15 years in the future from another dimension. So it really wasn't him, was it? Yet, they weren't entirely separate people either. No doubt Freud would have had field day on this one. It certainly gave the terms "loving oneself" an entirely different meaning!
His older self sensed his hesitation and raised up, blue eyes gazing into their mirror. "Relax, pet." He pulled back a little, lying casually across his twin's stomach giving his younger self a bit of space. "If this makes you uncomfortable, then by all means, I'll leave you alone and go join Baby in the shower. However, you have an unusual opportunity here. Tell me, outside of the last few days when you've been a part of our family, how long has it really been since you've been touched by anyone other than the Slayer?" He paused a moment to let it soak in, then continued, "For that matter, how long since anyone has touched like this ... tenderly, lovingly, affectionately." He emphasized he last three words with gentle strokes along his jaw line, shoulder and down his chest. Spike cringed a little. He was right, everything with Buffy was violent and rushed and urgent. There was rarely, if ever, any genuine affection. In fact she had gone out of her way to express her continued disgust with him ... yet she continued to have sex with him, and he was so grateful for the contact he had allowed it to continue under less than reasonable circumstances.
"How long has it been since you have lain with Angel? Or Dru? Anyone else who would actually love you and accept you rather than use you?" Spike lifted an eyebrow. He hadn't really thought about it, but it had been a very long time since anyone had touched him who wasn't pounding the hell out of him in one way or another.
"A damned long time, I'll bet. You've forgotten vampire ways, basic things. That damned chip has you so muddled you can't remember how to hunt, how to feed, how to exist."
Spike nodded, there was nothing he could say to contradict him.
"I watched you with the Slayer and Xander at breakfast. They treat you badly, mate, very badly. I guarantee you, if that were me, I'd have been pounding some faces rather than let those humans smash me around. If that's a sample of what you are dealing with, and as memory serves, it is, then it's time you opened yourself to something a bit more rewarding. You have eternity, mate, but why waste any of it on those who would just as soon spit on you as touch you."
There was too much sense being spoken here. He had absolutely wallowed in the hunt with Baby and the others who had crossed into his dimension. He had marveled at Wes & Dru, especially Wes, and what an oddly perfect couple they made. For his time with them all, he had felt completely and entirely a part of something bigger, something positive and good, not in spite of their being vampires, but BECAUSE of it. He had watched them, been a part of them, been immediately included with them. He felt taken under their protective wing and reminded what it was liked to be what he was, rather than the constant battle of fighting his demon only to be beaten down by holier than thou mortals. His eyes sparkled in acknowledgement and realization. Enough of this crap.
"You're right, mate, about everything," he nodded resolutely, then he ran his hand through the other man's slightly darker hair to the back of his neck and pulled him in for a deep, gratifying kiss. Their lips mingled, cool and smooth, Spike's searching for something, the other surrendering himself. It was as if he were saying, "This is who and what you are, take it from me, taste it, enjoy it, let it fill you." He did.
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CHAPTER 2 - Discovery
Their kisses warmed and wandered onto each others' jaw lines and throats, necks and shoulders, and the hollow at the base of Spike's throat. Their tongues made long strokes across collar bones and breast bones, shorter ones around ears and earlobes, fingers intertwined with curly locks of white blond and less blond hair. It was hard to tell where one Spike began and the other ended. Their legs wrapped around and between, the sheet went away, groping hands touched and caressed their way across abs and ribs, chests and buttocks. The room filled with the heady scent of their arousal and two perfectly alabaster erections were stroked by two perfectly formed hands. They moved in amazing tandem, knowing what the other wanted and liked because each himself knew what he liked. As things grew warmer and harder, they became more urgent, yet their dance had an unexpected peacefulness to it.
Spike surrendered control and lay back, still stroking his other self lightly across his well-formed cheeks and down onto his thigh, tracing circles, teasing and probing, but not really getting there. The older, more experienced, Spike took the lead and raised the bar a little, nibbling at his twin's chest, biting lightly on one nipple as pliant fingers twisted and teased the other. Spike moaned and writhed beneath him. It was as if their minds were mingled as well as their bodies ... touch here, yes, caress there, mmm kiss, slower, faster, tongue ... but the only sounds were calmly delighted moans.
From time to time, one would stop and just look at the other, tiny smiles were exchanged, and an overall knowledge that, as odd as this might have seemed to someone else or even to them at first, the fulfillment was incredible. They both felt complete, as if a part of themselves accepted the other part, took their hurt and wrapped it in their own knowledge and experience and gave it back to the other like a carefully wrapped gift. Spike the older could still feel the raw pain Buffy had inflicted on his younger self. It helped to remind him that no matter the dreams of their past together, there was no way that any involvement with her could have any positive affect and, in fact, would destroy everything he had built and probably himself and his sanity. Spike the younger felt the self-assurance and confidence his more experienced self had, the comforting knowledge of their pride, of belonging, of Baby as the sun and moon of his existence. These silent exchanges took the weaker parts of each man and turned them into strengths.
The older Spike shifted a little, settling himself on his knees between the younger man's outstretched legs. Reaching up toward his shoulders, he curled his fingers just enough to lightly touch, caress and scratch randomly as he raked down the fine, pale skin. Spike shivered, wanting more. He was rewarded as his mirror image repeated the gesture, this time with more intensity, leaving little raised stripes of flesh behind the pathway of his nails. Flattening his hands now, he watched his younger self closely as he placed a cool palm on each knee and began slowly gliding up across his thighs, hip bones and waist, dwelling a little longer over his stomach, feeling the groove and curve of each muscle there before continuing up his ribs to his shoulders. When he stopped, the older vampire was stretched out completely over him, and he very, very slowly lowered himself onto the quivering body of his younger self and made small adjustments until they matched perfectly together.
Stunned by the beauty of it, both Spikes stretched their arms straight out from their sides, letting as much of their skin touch as possible. The man on top moved both of his legs on top of Spike's and they lay there, perfectly stacked together. Each wrist matched wrist, their shoulders, even their ribs seemed to match perfectly to one another. The muscles of their thighs, their knees, their stomachs and hip bones. The only part of them even slightly askew was the older man's head resting just to the side of his twin, and even then, their ears seemed to match up in a mirrored sort of way. If there had been a living heart between them it would have beat in tandem. Everything about them was identical, and the meeting of the perfect parts in such an intimate manner only drew attention to one other similarity, the delightful size, unusually curved shape, and hardness of their identical erections brushing and rubbing up against one another like hands being brought together in prayer.
It was indescribable bliss for both of them. Like reading the others' thoughts, they both began to move their hips slightly back and forth, side to side, and into a circular motion which lifted and settled them together. Quiet moans of pleasure floated through the air like whispers in a summer meadow. They were amazing together. Spike on top trailed his fingertips across the inside of the other man's arms from wrist to shoulder as Spike on the bottom wrapped those same arms around the other and pulled him in closely. Future Spike ran his hands through the peroxide blond's hair as their hips began to gyrate even more, still torturously slow but more urgently and with more pressure. Spike felt cool breath on his neck once more and found his own face nuzzling into the neck of his 'brother.' At the same time, both men shifted slightly and sent a single hand down the other's body until each reached the stiff, pulsating cock of the other, wrapping their strong hands around them and squeezing.
They both audibly gasped, then they began to stroke each other, sometimes with open hand, sometimes in tightened fist as their excitement for one another built. Faster and faster they pumped, gently, then roughly, and always together. Their blue eyes became like shimmering crystal as they looked into each other's faces with admiration and understanding. As they drew closer they both felt less and less in control, climbing and panting their way up the mountain of orgasm they both were anticipating. Their arousal had reached such a point that nothing could have stopped them ... not that anyone would even try. Their strong hands continuing their urgent work, their unneeded breaths became more and more shallow until they both stopped. Suddenly. They looked deeply into each other, a smile playing at their lips. They both knew it was right. Their hands continued their dance as the two men simultaneously slipped into game face and sank their fangs into the other's neck, drinking deeply from each other, from themselves, as the first shattering orgasm took them both at the same time. Cool spurts expelled from them as they drank from each other, the yin and yang of their acts. And as the power of their own blood passed between them, they became undeniably and inseparably .... one.
CHAPTER 3 - Endeavor
Angel smiled at the two interwoven, identical vampires, wrapped in an embrace of passion while feeding, sprawled across the bed of Spike and Baby's room. He could hear and 'feel' them all the way down the hall, as, most likely, could every other vampire in the building. How Baby had managed to remain in the shower with this going on was a mystery to him, but he had noticed that the water was no longer running.
He inhaled the intoxicating scent of the two Spikes deeply. He wasn't exactly sure just how long he could remain a silent spectator, and after his time and discussion with Cordelia, he wasn't sure he should. They were obviously unaware of his presence just inside the doorway. The way they were right now, they'd have been unaware of the apocalypse! Angel slipped out of his blue silk shirt and continued watching them as calm, and their human features, returned. They never stopped caressing and touching one another, though the purpose and intensity of it changed.
He tilted his head curiously, thinking that perhaps to an outsider this would almost appear incestuous in some way, but it couldn't be really. They weren't related, though they shared the same genetic code, and in vampire culture, so much about blood and sex was intertwined with lineage and sires and family that very little ever appeared distasteful or inappropriate, particularly when it came to the security and intimacy of their pride.
Angel looked up when he felt Baby standing near him. She was watching the boys with a contented smile on her face, but she obviously had no intention of joining them. She was dressed. She gazed up at Angel with an unusually soft smile, then glanced back at the boys. Her message was clear. This was male bonding time and Angel was invited. She placed an encouraging hand on his shoulder and kissed him softly on the cheek. Things were so much better between them, this one gesture seemed filled with significance to them both. Belonging. All is forgiven within their family.
Baby breathed in the aroused scent of her Spikes one more time and held it inside her, then quietly slipped out the joining door. He was extraordinarily pleased at how things had resolved and calmed down after the Buffy fiasco. Sometimes Baby truly surprised him with her maturity and ability to pinpoint exactly what needed to be done to make things universally better for everyone. This was one those times.
Spike shifted beneath his other self, his eyes still closed dreamily as he continued to enjoy the afterglow of intimacy. He felt the puncture wounds at his neck being licked slowly and deliberately, healing them, just as so much of his time with these vampires was healing his spirit. He sighed contentedly before opening his eyes and finding Angel ministering to him. The realization was a bit startling, but with an expression of approval from the clear blue eyes of his twin, he relaxed and tried to return to that euphoric place. Older Spike had one hand on his younger self, caressing his exposed shoulder and arm, and the other lighting brushing his fingernails down Angel's bare back. Once the punctures had closed, Angel's tongue began to explore the jaw line of the man beneath him, nipping and kissing playfully at his chin and throat and then melting into a deep, passionate joining of lips and tongues in a kiss which both surprised and excited the younger Spike.
This was not what he had expected. He had honestly tried to avoid being in the same room with this future version of Angel after the things that had been said and done to Baby last week. Buffy had managed to make a muck of everything she touched once again. Spike had feared that after only a few days on the Hellmouth and around the Slayer, the bad karma of the place would destroy the well-organized and devoted clan which had formed around Angel and the other Spike. He had feared not only that Spike might kill Angel, but that he himself might give it a shot. He really didn't like how Angel had treated Baby.
Yet, here the three men were sharing caresses and kisses as if no harsh words had been spoken, no threats had been made, nor punches thrown. Spike was overwhelmed with a feeling of belonging and acceptance because even in the middle of such intense conflict these people cared for him. Not just his physical well-being but also his extremely fragile sense of self-worth. Both men continued to touch and stroke him in an almost rehearsed dance, subtle looks and expressions communicating to each other what the other intended to do. It was at once relaxing and thrilling.
The silence of their affections was broken when the older Spike abruptly sat up. "Peaches, you're over dressed." The mischievous grin on his face demonstrated that this was a game they had played before. The older Spike glanced at his mirror image and nodded, and before a word could be spoken, Angel was on his back on the bed while the two blond vampires began to remove his pants. "If you're going to join the
party, Angelus," said one of the Spikes, "you must learn to dress, or undress, appropriately," teased the other. With that, his jeans vanished into a pile at the foot of the bed and the two identical vampires pounced on him.
The romp which ensued began playfully enough. Once all three were naked it became a free-for-all of hands, fingers, nails, legs, feet, backsides, necks, lips, tongues, and pale, hard penises, thrashing about and punctuated with occasional growls and moans of satisfaction. The younger Spike took a liking to Angel's ears and nibbled them, while Angel took a turn at sucking on the older Spike's fingers, which tasted distinctly like the other Spike, and older Spike had thrown one of his slender, yet muscular legs across Angel's stomach and tickled his twin's hip and groin with his toes while pressing and grinding his own erection into Angel's side. It looked a bit like an Angel sandwich except the bread and lunch meat were constantly moving.
Grasping hands moved lower on each vampire's body, waists and buttocks were caressed and teased, scratched and probed, while hungry mouths joined in a three-way feast. Angel would taste one Spike, then the other, then they would take their turn with each other as Angel nibbled their chins and throats. Each vampire would slip in and out of game face to suit his whim and utilize fangs as desired, though blood had not yet become a part of their play.
Angel led the descent into the lower regions as he kissed down the younger Spike's chest, teasing his nipples as he proceeded down to his navel, plunging in his tongue and twisting before sliding down into the not exactly blonde curls between Spike's hips. His hands traveled behind the younger vampire, grabbing two handfuls of arse and squeezing as he buried his face deeper in his groin, careful to not yet touch the extraordinary erection. Older Spike started in on Angel's back, rubbing and licking his way down to the lovely curve of his hips and dwelling with playful nips at the back of his thighs. His hands moved around front, caressing and grasping his hipbones as Spike raised up and pressed his hardon up against Angel's arse, rubbing in slow, methodical circles up against the puckered opening. Angel sighed his approval and responded by sliding his mouth over the younger Spike's cock, lapping and sucking almost viciously as his "victim's" fingers tangled into hair, tugging and pulling in response to what their leader was doing to his body. They took their time, occasionally shifting and turning to find better access to one another.
Baby's Spike rummaged in the night stand for a few moments before producing some fairly large bottles of oil. He thumbed through the flavors/scents. Raspberry did not appeal to this group, though it was one of Baby's favorites. He settled on Sandalwood, lovely scent, no flavor which could overpower the dilectable taste each man owned individually. He poured a generous amount into his hand and to those suddenly outstretched to him. There were three. He wasn't sure who they belonged to. The younger Spike found himself standing beside the bed, with Angel's head, face up, between his legs, tonguing and sucking on his balls as his oil-covered hand began a slow, torturous pump on his now extremely sensitive cock. The older Spike straddled Angel's wide and muscular chest and began licking and teasing Angel's erection while the younger Spike used his well-oiled hands to coat and rub his older self's anus and testicles, sliding one hand between his legs and squeezing the lovely alabaster cock dangling over Angel's chest. He rested his head on his twin's back, licking and biting lightly, and let his hand fall into the same rhythm Angel played on him. Older Spike picked up on the tandem strokes and synchronized his mouth accordingly, then slid his oiled hand beneath Angel and began rubbing slow circles around his tight opening. Angel's tongue followed suit as he began rimmming the younger vampire, who then did the same to the arse in front of him.
Their coordination was impressive. With each movement one made, the others added to it barely seconds later until it almost seemed they were doing these things to themselves as much as to each other. The room itself was awash in the scent of sandalwood and precum mixed with the scents of the men themselves, all mingled into a heady, intoxicating concoction that would have caused any mortal to lose consciousness. Superimposed on that were the sounds ... licking, sucking, moans of pleasure and anticipation, which dissolved into whimpers and begs to finish each other off. Each man began to move more frenetically, stroking and sucking, pulling and squeezing with more intensity and strength until within a fraction of a second of each other, they came with howling cries of ecstacy and release. Spike swallowed Angel deeply ito his throat as his grandsire poured into him, while he himself shot all over Angel's abdomen, almost catching himself in the chin. Angel squeezed excruciatingly hard on the younger Spike just as he came hard between his twin's legs sending him into game face and a definite bite into his older self's hip. There was little blood there, but enough to inspire the other two to follow suit, Angel biting into the standing Spike's inner thigh and the other Spike biting into Angel's body around the hilt of his cock, still buried deeply in Spike's throat. They all drew blood at once and all came together again in a roar of pleasure that shook the windows of the entire hotel.
******
Wesley Wyndham-Pryce had been walking down the hall toward Spike's room when the hallway echoed with the deafening combined roar of the three vampires. He had been on his way to invite the Spike from this dimension on another hunting trip, since he appeared to have enjoyed the last one a great deal. Now Wesley realized he had a decision to make. He stood quietly outside Spike's door, weighing the pros and cons of interrupting them and wondering whether or not he should knock. The room had quieted, so he turned the knob and entered. It appeared to be empty, with the only evidence that anyone had even been there being the mostly destroyed linen on the bed. He stepped in and started to close the door when six arms and three naked bodies engulfed him like a hungry hoard, dragged him to the bed and threw him onto it.
The expression on his face sent the three men into a cascade of laughter.
"Come on, Wes," Angel said, "Like we couldn't hear and smell you 200 feet down the hall?"
Wes stammered, "Well, I ..."
"Well you what, Wes?" Older Spike queried, moving so close to him that Wesley could feel the words he spoke as much as hear them. "You thought you'd join us?" he said with a teasing smile. Without waiting for an answer, he pressed his lips roughly to Wesley's, parting them with his tongue and not giving the man any opportunity to reply. He was joined a moment later by younger Spike and Angel who spent the next few minutes skillfully freeing the former watcher from the nuisance called clothing.
******
Cordelia was just finishing the last touches on her make up when Baby smiled for no apparent reason. Cordy whispered to her conspiratorially, "Do you really think Wes went to ask Spike out hunting?"
Baby's expression was priceless. "With the amount of pheromones, testosterone, and arousal filling this floor?," she chuckled, "Not a chance."
Drusilla joined them and smiled as well, "My Wesley has joined the game, he has. Won't that be fun?"
The three women looked at one another for a moment, Cordelia breaking the silence and speaking about the men as if they were embroiled watching sports on television. "They're going to be awhile, let's go shopping. Nordstrom is open until ten."
Quietly walking down the hall, they stopped outside Spike's room and paused, inhaling deeply. After a smile of appreciation to each other, the two vampires and the demon left the hotel in search of treasures and sales.
Chapter 4 - Columbia
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Song Lyrics: "Soul Cages" by Sting
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Wesley found himself spread eagle on the bed being examined by the three vampires like gorillas grooming one another. Except for the laughter. They had really amused themselves by surprising him like that, and if his body hadn't been tingling so much and his head hadn't been swimming from the mixture of intoxicating scents, he might have pouted about it. "Funny, Angel, ha ha," he would have said dryly. If he could have spoken. Which he couldn't at this point. It was all he could do to breathe.
The other three were so finely tuned to one another that they hardly spoke at all. Visions of primordeal, non-verbal man danced in Wes's head as he watched them communicate with a subtle hand gesture or lifted eyebrow. The room was almost silent except for the sound of his own breathing and the whisper of skin brushing skin.
Angel nodded and his spread eagle position became more permanent as each of the three took a limb and tied him to the bed. Older Spike took care of the leftover limb and the three of them stood back and silently admired their handiwork. Naked Wes, Tied to the Bed. It sounded like a Chagall painting, rather looked like it, too. "Cute, guys," he would have said, if he'd been able to speak, which he still couldn't. "Breathe, Wes, keep breathing," he thought.
Ordinarily this kind of vulnerability would have made him berserk. Baby & Cordy had tried a few bondage games with him which had been quite pleasant, and on rare occasions he had allowed Dru to bind him, though she usually preferred to be the one strapped to the bed as helpless as a kitten. But he had never allowed Angel or Spike or any of the males in the family to do this to him. Childhood terror kept him from it, serious male trust issues. But this, for some reason, wasn't threatening to him at all, though there was no tangible reason for it. Something about the three of them together, reeking of dried sex and new arousal led him to trust what was happening, trust them, and go with it. If he stepped outside of himself it made no sense at all. He knew his reaction to this should have been violent, but it wasn't. He also knew that Spike & Angel were very aware of his hesitancy in these kinds of games. They normally would never initiate something like this with him. Still, he wasn't frightened or angry or violent, and Angel & Spike didn't seem concerned, though on doubt their vampire senses were keenly focused on him and his human responses.
He started to get chilled. Damnable vampires, they rarely got cold, or rather they were already cold, being dead and all. They were always forgetting that there were a few human traits Wes still possessed, though granted not many, but temperature was one of them. As if he read his mind, Angel glanced at the shrinking, shriveling parts of Wes and tossed his head toward it, smirking at the older Spike. With a nod, he grabbed a throw off the chair and tossed it on him, though only a very small portion of him. Can't have THAT getting cold.
The boys began to mill about, though no one touched him and they still didn't speak. Spike the younger, obviously not used to quiet, swatted at the CD player ... the seductive tones of Sting filled the room.
The boy child is locked in the fisherman's yard
There's a bloodless moon where the oceans die
A shoal of nightstars hang fire in the nets
And the chaos of cages where the crayfish lie
Angel lifted a querying eyebrow at Wes, as if he were asking if being tied up was becoming a concern. Wes gave him a subtle wink that he was okay. Of course he wanted to say, "What do you think, you big, brooding, lummox? Being tied up is my worst nightmare, how do you think I am?" but somehow the words never took form and to be honest, he really wasn't uncomfortable. Strange.
Watching them, the realization hit him. The three of them, they reeked of one another to the point they no longer had individual scent, it was as if they had become one entity instead of three separate beings. Angel was the obvious leader, the alpha male, yet they were strangely equal in their behavior for the most part. But there it was. The unity, an almost pack mentality. And he was being invited into this exclusive brotherhood, even though he was human, even though he didn't feed as they did, even though he was different from their breed. That was where his security was coming from ... the bonding, the security that in the hands of these men he would be safe and protected. He was being claimed by them on a more intimate level than with the family in general, and rather than be concerned about his long-suffered hang ups regarding powerlessness and confinement at the hand of predatory males, he gave himself over to them with a trust which can only be given, not taken forceably. He liked it.
Where is the fisherman, where is the goat?
Where is the keeper in his carrion coat?
Eclipse on the moon when the dark bird flies
Where is the child with his father's eyes?
Then the stalking began. Okay, a little creepy. Younger Spike pulled the bed from against the wall so they could move completely around him ... no one told him to do it, he just did it, as if it were expected and accepted that he would do it. They were a pride of tigers, liquidly moving about him, sniffing at him, reaching out to brush against him occasionally (finally!), circling him. Each rotation brought them closer to him en masse until they each crawled up onto the bed and continued on all fours, almost slithering around him and taking more time as they crossed each limb, to touch and fondle each extremity.
He's the king of the ninth world
The twisted son of the fog bells toll
In each and every lobster cage
A tortured human soul
As if the music stopped in some mad game of musical chairs, they froze, each claiming an area of his body. He had a Spike at each wrist and Angel was perched between his legs. "Oh dear Lord, this is either going to be incredibly good, or they're going to eat me," he thought. At this particular moment he wasn't sure which he wanted. There could be worse things than being claimed and sired by these three vampires in a sexual ritual which would no doubt make it's own chapter in a watcher's diary. Then again, he was beginning to feel a bit like they were playing with their food.
He shook off the empty threat just in time to catch a glimpse of Spike hands releasing the bonds on his wrists, running up his arms and across his chest, and two pair of Spike lips beginning to nuzzle his neck and growl quietly. Any trace of cold fled as a heat wave took over, spreading through his body like a grass fire. Angel simultaneously released his ankles, placed a hand on each of Wes's legs and began to work them up toward the center, slowly creeping until he met the other two at the little throw beginning to tent at his groin. Wes himself tossed it aside, and there they lay, four naked men with a world of options before them.
These are the souls of the broken factories
The subject slaves of the broken crown
The dead accounting of old guilty promises
These are the souls of the broken town
Wes wrapped his legs around Angel's hips and pulled him in closer, their lips meeting in sudden urgency and hunger. This was not the norm for the two of them. True, Wes had been with Angel before and with Spike, but sexually, other than Dru, he was usually drawn more to Cordelia and Baby. Perhaps it was their commonality as consorts, or perhaps he was still human, technically, and not as deeply involved in the bisexuality of the full on vampire life ... yet. Or perhaps it was the violent, angry history he shared with Angel over the events which transpired when Connor was an infant, though this was long past forgiven by them both. He wasn't necessarily uncomfortable with Spike and Angel, he was just more comfortable with the women. Part of that, too, was his longstanding mistrust of men in general after a childhood filled with abuse and neglect. In fact, Angel was probably the least likely male for Wes to suddenly bond with. He'd had his dalliances with Spike's childer, casual group things within the family, but if asked to choose between Angel and Spike in an intimate moment, he would have almost always gone with Spike. They were just closer. Angel somehow always had that more authoritative position which had the potential of sending Wes retreating into himself. Yet, here he was, sharing intimate touches and deep, lingering kisses with Angel. And loving the Hell out of it. This powerful man was incredible to touch and feel and experience, and Wes decided in that moment not to deny either of them any bits of pleasure they could take or give to the other.
These are the soul cages.
The Spikes wrapped themselves around the other two, entangled in their own kiss hovering above them, hands groping each other and the two men below them. They began tenderly, but it didn't take long for their activities and affections toward each other to take on a more feverish pitch. They broke off into pairs, the two Spikes eagerly pleasing each other in that tandem manner they had already developed ... no words necessary, they knew what they liked and joyously dove into it, lips and tongues, limbs and cocks, rubbing and kissing and touching and teasing. They were all over the bed, and sometimes off of it, whereas Wes & Angel remained eerily in the middle, their movements more subtle and low key, but just as intense, perhaps moreso because of the simmering violence hidden beneath both of them.
I have a wager' the brave child spoke
The fisherman laughed, though disturbed at the joke.
'You will drink what I drink but you must equal me
And if the drink leaves me standing,
A soul shall go free
The older Spike grabbed his mirror image by the shoulders and slammed him up against the wall, ravaging him with his mouth and slipping into game face, scrapping his fangs down the pale, cool skin of his chest. His counterpart shivered and an animalistic growl seemed to reverberate right out of his chest. His hands began a searching, wandering game over his partner that had them both hard and eager to explode within moments. Their hands slipped between them, grasping the other's prick in painful, ecstatic unison. If they didn't slow down a bit this wasn't going to last long. Then again, they could go for another round.
I have here a cask of most magical wine
A vintage that blessed every ship in the line
It's wrung from the blood of the sailors who died
Young white body adrift in the tide
The older vampire turned around, pressing his back into his younger self's chest, keeping his hand on his cock and feeling Spike's reach around for his. Shifting and groping sent them hurling back toward the bed where one fell face down on it and the younger barely standing. Massage oil appeared from nowhere and blonde Spike begn oiling up his hand and cock. With a probing finger he slipped it into the older man's puckered opening and slid it around slowly, working up to a gentle in and out motion, making his partner writhe and moan beneath his touch. Moments later one digit was replaced by two and he felt a hand on his own, still stiff and pulsating member as he went for the third. Two hands worked their way behind the standing man and pulled him in closer, grasping his hips and pressing his hardness, trying to blindly guide him into the now stretched and waiting opening. He worked his way in, achingly, slowly, the Spike beneath him pressing back, urging him in, wanting to feel him inside pressing against that most delicious spot.
And what's in it for me my pretty young thing?
Why should I whistle, when the caged bird sings?
If you lose a wager with the king of the sea
You'll spend the rest of forever in the cage with me'
These are the soul cages.
Angel and Wes began to shift positions, Wes taking the top and straddling the larger man, their cocks doing a dance of their own around each other, lightly brushing up against the other. Wes, sitting up, took both of them in his hands at the same time and squeezed them together in one large grip which was almost painful. It was absolutely glorious. He began to torture them both with a series of pumping and squeezing and stroking, with an occasional effort at intertwining them like rose vines. He ran his thumbs over the head of each, precum coating the tips, glistening purple and throbbing. He found the massage oil and dribbled it generously over Angel's chest and stomach then filled his own hands with it, catching Angel's eyes and making sure he watched as he slowly slathered it on his own chest. When they were both glistening from it, he oiled up the pair of cocks between them, rubbing them alternately with strokes both gentle and rough, keeping them both off balance and uncertain what the next sensation would bring.
A body lies open in the fisherman's yard
Like the side of a ship where the iceberg rips
One less soul in the soul cages
One last curse on the fisherman's lips
These are the soul cages
Angel's hand reached over and fondled the standing Spike while he was busy preparing the other for a rear entry treat. All four men let out a simultaneous, moaning sigh which hung in the air for a long moment. Then Angel shifted, finding Wes quickly and ministering to him with slow, intense strokes until he could feel the human getting close and then backing off a little, leaving him in a heaving, panting mess. The man was a master in more ways than one. He was also a contortionist, which Wesley did not expect considering his size. Angel folded himself in half, his feet now solidly hooked around the headboard leaving himself open for Wes to enter as he wished. He wished. With some lovely oil and an exploratory finger or two, the larger man was ready and apparently eager, if his shallow, excited breathing was any indication. Slowly and gently, Wes entered him, a delighted moan coming from both of them.
Swim to the light. Swim to the light
He dreamed of the ship on the sea
It would carry his father and he
To a place they could never be found
To a place far away from this town
The older Spike, joyously receiving the younger inside him, moved closer to Angel & Wes, managing to rest his head on the back of Angel's thigh just enough to engulf his grandsire's throbbing cock with his mouth. Wes slipped his hands into that Spike's hair, twirling his fingers in it and feeling the accelerating up and down motion he used as he brought Angel off. The younger Spike still had one hand greedily working his other self's prick, while continuing to plunge into him, yet he still managed to reach for Wesley. Placing his hand on the back of the ex-watcher's head, he pulled him closer and captured his mouth, exploring it with his cool, eager tongue. The four men, joined together in this somehow indefinable way, stroked and squeezed and sucked and kissed until, like a row of flesh-covered dominoes, they each came one after the other, in a continuous explosion of passion and souls ... whether or not they had one.
A Newcastle ship without coals
They would sail to the island of souls
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Chapter 5 - Atlantis
When the water stopped running, Angel and Wes ran into the bathroom like boys giddy to go skinny-dipping in summer. Younger Spike stood proudly near the faucet, pleased with his idea, and punched the Jacuzzi button on the wall as he and the other two jumped in, water exploding from the enormous tub like fireworks. His older self was on the phone and spoke more words than had been uttered in at least an hour.
"Room Service? Could you please send up about a dozen Coronas, with limes, a couple of orders of nachos, some guacamole, and do you have 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea? No? Okay, Gladiator, then. Checked out. Hmmm," he turned to the others. "Anyone else feel like Antonio Banderas?" He was met with three lascivious smiles. Laughing, he spoke back into the phone, "Okay, bring a selection .. say, 'Mask of Zorro,' 'Desperado,' '13th Warrior' and see if you can find one of his early Spanish-language films. Yes, I know, most of them were gay, and that'll do nicely." He winked at the others. "See what you can find, eh? Thanks." He hung up.
Wes groaned. "13th Warrior? I could have gone for that newer one with Angelina Jolie myself." The other three rolled their eyes and groaned as the last Spike popped into the hot tub. In unison they all sighed and sank down into the water, their arms outstretched over the edge with fingers and hands interlacing. Random caresses scattered about them, footsie games silently battling beneath the water's surface, and a collective sigh of contentment rolled through the four of them as if they had all reached the Nirvana of complete satisfaction.
When room service arrived, they attacked the food and had the boy put in Zorro in the VCR. Spike got kudos for the choice of hotel. It was accommodating and helpful and you just couldn't beat the large TV/VCR in the bathroom for hot tub viewing. They spent the next 45 minutes picking apart the authenticity of costuming and making fun of the way Antonio Banderas held a sword. They laughed, they ate, they enjoyed each other's company, and eventually their thoughts and actions turned a bit more primal. There was just something about hot water and really good beer that could send a man, particularly these four men, into a sensual world to end all others.
Wesley reached over and took Angel's lips in a soft kiss, a carry over from what they shared a bit ago, a 'thank you' and a 'wasn't that nice' reminder. When he pulled back he smiled into the dark sable eyes of the sire, his own smiling back. There were no more hesitations within him now. He felt the total security and safety of this man and the two others, and somehow it changed Wesley's viewpoint on a great many things. His cock twitched to attention. "This could easily become a habit," he thought to himself wistfully.
Hearing a splash, he glanced around to see he and Angel were suddenly alone. He moved a little closer, up next to him, fitting just under his extended arm and noticed Angel had dropped his head back onto the tiles, lost in thought, or honestly what looked liked ecstasy. He nuzzled in and rested his head on Angel's arm, closing his eyes and relaxing when he felt the sneak attack and realized why Angel looked as he did. He felt a questing mouth on his now quite hard prick and sighed loudly.
Angel murmured next to him, "Nice, isn't it?" The arousal and desire in his voice was compelling and made it that much more difficult for Wes to last very long. The mouth slid off and began sucking on his balls one at a time, a probing tongue flicking and teasing and hand lifting him up by the hips a little to gain access to the small opening of his anus. He gasped and moaned much louder than he meant to, but by that time it didn't matter because Angel was meeting him gasp for groan. As he felt himself reaching the pinnacle of pleasure, he said a silent prayer of thanks that vampires didn't have to breathe and could stay beneath the water as long as they liked. He liked this a lot. Apparently, so did they, and there was no doubt Angel was enjoying it as well.
How the twins managed to make both man and vampire come at the same time was impressive, and come they did, the growl and yell of them echoing throughout the tiled room and almost shattering the useless mirrors. The two Spikes sucked them both down deeply into their throats, even as the sound of their twin climaxes reverberated through the water. They seemed to hold them there for an infinite amount of time, prolonging the pleasure into pain. When they finally began to settle, curly hair, 2 sets of blue eyes, and identical smirks broke the water at the same time, looking up at the two satiated men against the side of the hot tub. Spike, the younger, had taken Angel; the older Spike had enjoyed Wes. Not that it mattered in the least. The four of them dissolved into a mass of lips and hands and entangled bodies once again. Moans of pleasure and satisfaction mixing with the quiet gurgling of the water jets.
*******************
The men left the bathroom still drying themselves and talking about Anthony Hopkins' blue eyes when they stepped into a darkened fantasyland. The room was completely awash in candlelight; there must have been a hundred of them in various sizes and shapes, tapers, votives, jars. Hidden amongst them was the tiniest hint of scent, vanilla mixed with musk, no doubt a Cordelia custom mix. Laid out on the freshly changed bed was an assortment of toys … scented massage oils, feathers, masks, silk scarves, chocolates, a riding crop, handcuffs, some silk lingerie, and a few more direct, male-oriented toys that made each of them tingle inside for different reasons. The girls had unselfishly arranged more fun and games for their boys.
The younger Spike himself was stunned at what they had done, what efforts they had gone to for him and the others, and to make him see what he was, what he is, and what he could become. He felt stronger than he had in over a hundred years, all because of a cosmic accident of dimensions. He could never repay this. He knew he'd never have to.
They looked at each other with an enthusiasm usually only seen in children at Christmas. As if an alarm sounded, the four of them bounded to the bed and began exploring the goodies. The younger Spike looked at the other three men as they began to tangle in each other again. Each was so full of adoration for the other, belonging to each other and together, and he knew that's what he wanted, and that's what he deserved. And he would have it. Somehow.
The stopped their play and began to approach him as one, now, embracing him and kissing him, acknowledging that whatever path he chose now, they would always love and accept him. Angel stood behind him, one hand resting lightly on Spike's arse, Wesley stood just behind him on the right, his hand gently rubbing Spike's lower back, occasionally slipping a finger down to tease his opening. Finally, his twin, his other self, stood before him.
Two pair of the bluest eyes you've ever seen stared into each other with love and appreciation. They had both learned so much from the other, about what could have been, what should be, and what could be. The older Spike knew he would never risk losing Baby again, never give her any reason to think he didn't love her with every ounce of his being. His counterpart had shown him the truly divine creature she was and how only a fool would let someone like her go. The younger Spike learned what could be possible for him if he but asked for it. He learned he was not a monster, that he belonged, and that he was worthy to have so much love in his unlife. Baby's Spike moved closer and placed a firm, lingering kiss on the younger man's lips, slipping his hand down Spike's abdomen, and letting it rest there affectionately. It was a profound moment for them ... a moment that quickly dissolved into another three to four hours of uninterrupted affection, play, and intimacy.
Spike found his home, his grounding, and from this moment on, no matter where he was, what dimension, what city, what world, he would always know the feeling of belonging he felt right this moment. It would be a part of him, inseparable from him, a solidified portion of his heart for all time. Accepted. Loved. Always.
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Fin