A/N This is an expansion
of my short story, 'Secret Ingredient'. That
was a challenge fic that had to be 1000 words (and 13 of them had to be
'bloody'...) but that left no room for the smut.
Giles rubbed his forehead, gripping the phone tightly with his other
hand. “So thereâs no other way? The spell specifically calls for
the... well, it has to be from a vampire?”
“Yes.” Wesleyâs voice was tight with embarrassment. Giles felt sympathy
mixed with amusement. Wesley was in an awkward situation but it did
have its lighter side; pity the younger man was too uptight to
appreciate it.
“I know itâs a silly question," he asked, "but Angel himself isnât able
to - ?”
“The soul is an unknown factor," Wesley replied. "We canât take the
chance that it will
negate the efficacy of the... ingredient.”
“I suppose so. I still donât quite understand why youâre calling me
though. Or have you been so successful in your new career that Los
Angeles is now vampire free?”
Wesley chuckled. “Not likely! But can you imagine the logistics? No, we
need a vampire willing to cooperate and Cordeliaâs vision included a
glimpse of someone she remembers very well, though Iâve not had the
dubious honour of making his acquaintance. She thinks, with a little
persuasion, he might fit the bill.”
Giles looked around for a wall to punch as the inescapable
inevitability of it overwhelmed him and all desire to smile left him
abruptly.
“So, do you have any idea where William the Bloody might be found these
days?” Wesley finished, his voice determinedly bright.
Giles turned and looked at a closed door. “I think I can safely say
that I have him on tap,” he said. “Itâs a long story but heâs staying
here with me.”
Wesley gasped and then rallied. “Is this one of those long stories that
gets summarised in three words and everyone laughs?” he asked.
Giles considered that for a moment. “Possibly. Let me see. Riley,
Initiative, chip.”
There was a thoughtful silence and he fancied he could hear Wesleyâs
glasses being pushed firmly into place. “A long story. Right. Tell me
when I arrive. Iâm on my way.”
***
Spike stared up at the two men who stood shoulder to shoulder in the
small bathroom and shook his head. “Well, I never thought Iâd see the
day
when two Watchers -”
“Fired.” said Giles tersely.
“Inactive. Well, yes, they fired me too.” Wesley confessed.
“When two former sodding Watchers then, stooped so low...”
“A young girlâs life is at stake, Spike, and this is no time to be
bloody-minded,” Wesley lectured him, his composure restored now that
the matter was out in the open. “Youâll be recompensed for your, umm,
efforts and that should be sufficient incentive. I donât expect you to
care about the girl but -”
“Good. Because I donât. An upgrade in living conditions, as well as the
dosh, and maybe, just maybe, youâve got yourselves a deal.”
Giles sighed. “We can talk about that later.”
“Can bloody well talk about it now.”
Giles leaned over the bath and got so close to Spike that their noses
were almost touching. “I said ‘laterâ. What part of that do you not
grasp, Spike?”
His voice was dangerous and Spike swallowed, his eyes wary. “Got to get
me in a good mood, Rupert. Do you think thatâs going to do it? Coming
over all strong and manly?”
Giles pulled back and placed his hand strategically as he pushed
himself to standing. Raising a sardonic eyebrow as his eyes locked with
Spikeâs he murmured, “Seems to have done the trick.”
Wesley cleared his throat, looking startled when two heads turned to
look at him with identical expressions of irritation at the
interruption. Pursing his lips he said
mildly, “Perhaps we could move Mr, ah, Bloody, to a more comfortable
location?”
“Spikeâll do, Wesley. No need to be formal, considering what weâre
about to get up to.”
To his surprise Wesley smiled slowly rather than looking flustered.
“Spike it is, then. Upstairs I think, donât you Giles?”
“On my bed?” said Giles as he unfastened the last
chain. “Do you have to?”
Spike reached out a hand and Giles took it, pulling him out of the bath
with an ill-tempered jerk. Spike stumbled and Giles found himself with
an armful of vampire. Spike looked up at him curiously, his eyes full
of a mocking amusement that faded as Giles showed no sign of releasing
him. Wesley watched, his mouth suddenly dry, as Giles gripped Spikeâs
arm and twisted it behind his back.
“Youâre hurting me you know,” Spike said through gritted teeth as Giles
pushed him towards the stairs.
“Yes. I do. So?”
Spike leaned back and turned his head so that his mouth was brushing
against Gilesâ face. “So itâs getting you hot. Know whatâs nice and
cold? Me.”
Wesley had gone ahead to prepare and was already out of sight. Giles
forced Spikeâs arm even further up his back until he winced with pain
and then used his free hand to hold Spikeâs face still as he kissed
him, his lips hard and demanding. Pulling away, his breath catching in
his throat, Giles held Spikeâs gaze for a long moment before they began
to move again.
Once in the bedroom Wesley held out a small pottery jar covered in
ornate pictograms. “This will serve to keep the substance fresh until
itâs needed. The markings form part of the spell.”
Giles released Spike who lay down on the bed, arms crossed behind his
head, eyes gleaming. Wriggling himself into a comfortable position,
totally at ease, he glanced down at the swell of his erection. “Donât
fight amongst yourselves, lads but get a bloody move on. Donât want the
golden moment to pass.”
Wesley frowned. “I was planning to leave you alone for a minute. Or
two. I donât understand what you mean.”
Spike smirked. “Itâs simple, mate.” He glanced over at Giles. “You know
what I mean, donât you?”
“Youâre not going to do it yourself,” said Giles in a voice stripped of
emotion. “If we want you to come so we can collect your seed for the
spell, weâre going to have to help you.”
Wesley gasped, his eyes wide with shock. “Thatâs not - I never meant -
Good Lord!”
Giles never took his eyes off Spike as he answered Wesley. “I donât
think we have much choice, do we?”
Reluctantly, Wesley shook his head. “Time grows short. I need to get
back to the city within the next few hours.”
“Give me the jar and wait downstairs.”
“No, I canât let you -”
“Do as youâre told, dammit!”
Wesleyâs lips tightened but he held out the jar in silence. Spike
waited until Gilesâ fingers were wrapped around it and then said, “No.
Not you. Him. Or I wonât do it.”
Wesley choked. “I beg your pardon? You expect me to jerk you off? I
donât bloody well think so!”
“Now isnât that a laugh," Spike mused. "Giles here canât wait to wrap
his hands around
me and youâre all fluttering and shy. Am I giving you a hint as to why
I want you, not him?”
“Because youâre evil?” Wesley said with a resigned sigh.
“Give the man a cigar.”
Giles turned on his heel wordlessly and left, shutting the door with a
click so final that a ripple of unease passed over Spikeâs face. He
looked up to see Wesley rummaging through his bag. “Whatâre you after?
Thought you just needed that jar thingie.”
“I do,” said Wesley. “I also need these.” He studied the bed, the
handcuffs spilling out of his hand, and smiled. “The headboard seems
sturdy enough. Good.”
Spike growled. “Iâve had enough of being chained up, mate. Forget it.”
Wesley continued to smile, a cold curving of his lips with no amusement
behind the
gesture. “I think youâve pushed us - me- around enough tonight, Spike.
From now on we do it my way.”
Spike could have resisted, could even have simply walked out, but to
Wesleyâs secret relief he lay quietly as his hands were cuffed to the
bed posts.
When Wesley unzipped his jeans, pulling them down enough to expose his
cock, he saw why. Spike was so hard, so swollen with need that it
looked painful. Wesley felt arousal wrap itself around him with cool,
strong fingers. He looked up and saw the hostility in Spikeâs eyes and
the scornful awareness. Spike let his eyes drift downwards and then
back up to Wesleyâs face, a sardonic eyebrow lifting in appreciation of
Wesleyâs clearly visible reaction to the sight of Spikeâs cock.
Flushing, Wesley reached for the jar, placing it beside Spikeâs leg. He
hesitated. The bag he had brought contained a jumble of items he'd
thought might be useful. He wasnât so sure about some of them now. One
of the items was a pair of thin, surgical gloves. He tried to imagine
Spikeâs reaction if he donned them before beginning the proceedure and
couldnât help giving a small, embarrassed snort of laughter.
“Whatâs so funny?” said Spike, his voice husky with resentment.
Wesley felt dislike snuff out both arousal and amusement. “Believe me,
you wouldnât find it so. I think Iâd prefer it if you were silent from
now on.”
“What, going to pretend Iâm Giles? Saw the way you were looking at him
earlier. You two an item when you were here before? Or did it never get
past holding han - ”
Spikeâs taunting ended
abruptly as Wesley, tight-lipped but calm, dripped lube over his
fingers and brought them to
Spikeâs erection. Wesley couldnât help glancing up to watch Spikeâs
face. The vampire was staring at him, an intensity in his gaze that
seemed almost tangible. Wesley could feel himself starting to flush,
not with embarrassment now but with renewed lust. He had never seen
anyone
look as - needy as Spike did at that moment. His eyes were half shut,
his lips parted on a moan, his hands fisted around the chains that
anchored each wrist to a bedpost. As Wesley sat, his hand loosely
clasped around Spikeâs cock, he saw Spikeâs eyes fill with desperation
as his hips rose from the bed in an unspoken plea. Instinctively his
hand tightened and Spikeâs eyes closed for a moment, clearly enjoying
the
sensation.
Guilt flooded Wesley as he dragged his mind back to the reason he was
there; the life that was at risk. With an effort he looked away from
Spikeâs face and stared down at his own hand and what it held. That
didnât help but he didnât dare to look away, although something told
him that when Spike was about to climax, heâd notice it.
Spike was too aroused to make even a token effort at control and Wesley
did nothing to draw out the encounter. With a steady, ruthless rhythm
he brought Spike to the edge and then snatched for the jar, holding it
in place while Spike came, his body shuddering, his head thrown back to
expose his bare throat. Wesley felt as drained as his partner, though
his own body was still clamouring for release. Moving off the bed, he
sealed the bottle, murmuring an incantation that was designed to make
the bottle safe from all exterior influences, physical or magical. He
slipped it inside his case, wiped his hands clean on a soft cloth, and
stood up to leave.
He made it to the door before Spike spoke, his voice low. “Thatâs it?”
Wesley didnât turn. “Iâm sorry? You want thanking, perhaps? Shall
I promise to call you in the morning, or send flowers?”
Spike growled and Wesley heard the scrape of metal as the vampire
tugged against the cuffs. He smiled with satisfaction that faded as
Spike said calmly, his flash of anger gone, “Fair enough. I made you
mad and you paid me back. Going to tell me what I did to piss you off
before you vanish?”
Wesley admitted to himself later that he must have wanted this
confrontation. In three strides he was back at Spikeâs side, his hands
planted on either side of the slim body, his face inches away from
Spikeâs. “You want to know? Fine. You hurt Giles. Heâs important to
me. No, weâve never been lovers, not that itâs any concern of yours,
but I admire him more than I can say. He took a callow, pretentious
young man and made him into someone who can -”
“Oh, spare me,” said Spike. “Yeah, youâre all warrior, fighting evil
with the souled freak. Three cheers for you. But you still fancy Giles
and youâre still hard for me - you just wonât admit it. Why is an evil
vampire the only honest one in the house?”
Wesley began to straighten up but something in Spikeâs words changed
his mind. He wanted honesty? Fine. Wesley leaned forward and kissed the
mouth that he guessed could inflicted more damage than Spikeâs fists;
kissed it
slowly and thoroughly and then drew back with a level, unsmiling look.
Spike nodded with approval and a sly grin. “Better. Now go and ask
Giles to take care of you. Got a
feeling thatâll take more guts than kissing me.”
Wesley smiled, relaxing for the first time since heâd entered the
house. “Iâd love to, but I really do have to go. My... problem will go
away by the time Iâm home, Iâm sure.”
Spike smirked but with no malice. “Get me out of these cuffs and I can
solve your problem for you in less time than itâll take you to get to
the end of the street.”
Wesley couldnât resist kissing him one more time, slipping his tongue
inside the cool mouth and allowing his hands to run over a body he
wished he could see naked. Spike responded with an avidity that almost
snapped Wesleyâs resolve but he remembered the look on Gilesâ face and
stood up.
“Goodbye, Spike. Thank you for your help and your advice. Iâll think
about it.” He nodded, enjoying the surprise that flickered over Spikeâs
face.
“Youâre not going to untie me?”
Wesley grinned, “I think Giles would like to be the one to see to that.
Iâm sure heâll be up to deal with you at some point.”
Spike rolled his eyes at Wesleyâs choice of words but looked resigned
to waiting. Wesley turned and left without looking back. Spikeâs
erection had returned as they kissed and he knew his limits of
endurance.
***
An hour later the door opened and Spike watched Giles walk over to him,
his face unreadable.
“Heâs gone?”
“Some time ago, yes.”
“Come to say thanks and untie me then?”
“You got one correct.”
Spike bit his lip as Giles knelt beside him. “Well?”
Giles ran his finger along the cock Wesley had neglected to cover.
Leaning forward, until his lips were close enough that his breath was a
caress, he said simply, “Thank you, Spike.”
Spike bit down harder as Giles took him in his mouth. “Youâre
welcome.”
Giles brought Spike so far along that stopping would have been sheer
cruelty and then let him slip from between his lips. Spikeâs eyes were
anguished. “Giles - donât stop! What the hell are you playing at?”
Giles smiled, moving up the bed until he was lying comfortably beside
Spike. Reaching down, he wrapped his fingers around him and let them
slide up and down the slippery length, too slowly and too gently to
trigger release. Spike twisted his head towards his tormentor, snarling
with anger. Giles frowned sharply. “I see even a glimpse of fangs and
Iâll keep you like this until I get bored,” he warned. “Control
yourself. Youâre not in such desperate straits as you
were a few hours ago, after all.”
Spike forced back his anger and nodded sullenly. “Donât call what Wes
did particularly satisfying though.”
Giles arched an eyebrow. “From what he said, neither did he. Perhaps
when there is no deadline to inhibit him you might find him a little
more adventurous.”
Spike chuckled, good humour restored. Gilesâ attention had wandered
just slightly and his grip had tightened automatically. “Iâd give him a
go at seconds any time. Ladâs got guts. Think heâd prefer another
partner though.”
Giles looked a question and then flushed. “Thatâs - Spike, do you mean
-” His eyes darkened. “What did you say to him? Answer me!”
Spike shifted uncomfortably and Giles let go of him abruptly and stood
up. “Very well. Iâll let you stay here for tonight and you can sleep in
rekative comfort. That can be your
payment. Good night, Spike.”
Like Wesley, he got no further than the door. “You walk out on me when
Iâm like this, Giles and Iâll -”
“Yes?” Giles said, his voice bored.
“Giles! What the fuck is it with you? Get your arse back over here and
finish this.”
Giles turned slowly and glared at Spike, the facade of indifference
torn away. “Donât threaten me, you little sod. For the last time, what
did you say to Wesley?”
Spike set his lips and visibly tried to keep his temper under control.
“I told him that Iâd gladly return the favour but I thought heâd like
it better coming from you. What? Not like itâs not occurred to you! If
he didnât have that spell to deal with, you twoâd probably be going at
it right now and never a thought for me having to listen to it.”
His aggrieved tone made Giles laugh out loud, the tension leaving him.
“I think Wesley and I would have spared you a thought, if nothing
else.” He sighed with resignation and went back to sit next to Spike.
“You just donât understand why Iâm so -”
“Pissed off?” offered Spike.
“That about covers it, yes.”
“Youâre cross because I picked Wes, not you? Wasnât because I wanted
him more, you know that. Youâre not daft.”
“Your motives were as transparent as glass,” Giles said dryly. “No, of
course I wasnât jealous. It was the position you put Wes in, you prat.
You embarrassed my guest, who's also my colleague and a friend, and I
find that hard
to overlook.”
Spike stared at him. “Iâm lying here, still waiting for you to finish
what you started God knows how long ago and youâre telling me Iâm
suffering because I made Wes blush? Giles, tell me youâre joking!”
Giles pursed his lips and returned his look in silence. Spike squirmed
and heaved a sigh. “If itâll make you happy, Iâm sorry, then.”
Giles patted his leg. “Apology accepted. Want some blood before you go
to sleep?”
Spike growled low in his throat. “No, I donât want any fucking blood. I
want you to stop playing games. I think Iâve done enough dancing to
your tune for one night.”
Giles nodded slowly. “I forget what you are sometimes. I forget your
limitations.”
Spike looked up at him, his head tilted, his eyes knowing. “Donât think
you do, Giles. I think you always know exactly what youâre playing
with. I donât know why you picked tonight to get friendly after a week
of dithering -”
“I have not been dithering!”
“Huh. Is that so. Then tell me this, Rupert. Why am I chained in your
bath?”
Giles looked as uneasy as he felt. “To stop you escaping.”
Spike raised his eyebrows. “Are you forgetting that I came to you
voluntarily? I canât feed, I canât fight. I need your help. Iâm not
going anywhere and you know it. Try again.”
Giles avoided Spikeâs eyes and rubbed a hand across his forehead before
speaking. “Youâre not making this easy, Spike.”
“Why should I? Iâve been watching you. Nothing better to do, have I?
Youâve been hard every time Iâve seen you, every time you come near me.
Doesnât take a vampire to spot that. Was wondering if youâd ever get
around to doing anything about it. Figured you were too scared. Pity.”
Giles shrugged impatiently. “Iâm not scared, Spike. The consequences of
any relationship with you, no matter how casual, are too dire to
contemplate. Iâve spent most of my life learning how to kill your kind
after all. It would be a betrayal of my position.”
“Thought youâd been fired.”
Giles gave him a level glance. “Iâm still the Slayerâs Watcher and we
both know it.”
“I know sheâs only keeping you around for old timeâs sake. Iâd say
sheâs figured out which endâs the pointy one and where to shove it.
Face it; sheâs learned all you can teach her. Not like itâs a
complicated job.” His voice softened. “When did you last have any fun,
Giles? Thatâs all this has to be.”
Giles shook his head. “I think we both know thatâs not true.”
Spike threw his head back and howled with frustration. “Fine! Go off
and wank yourself to sleep for the eight night in a row! See how cuddly
a set of principles are. Just undo one of these fucking cuffs so I can
do the same.”
Giles hesitated and then picked up the key Wesley had left on the night
table. He unlocked the cuffs on Spikeâs right hand and then turned to
put the key and cuffs out of reach. Spikeâs hand reached out and
grasped his wrist. As Giles twisted round, surprised and wary, Spike
brought Giles' hand up to his mouth and slowly licked along the middle
finger. Giles closed his eyes for a second as the caress tingled
through him. As Spike drew the finger into his mouth with unexpected
gentleness, flickering his tongue against it with languid, then darting
strokes, Giles moaned. Spike was sucking his finger now with an
insistent strength and Giles' cock was as hard as if it were the
target,
reacting to each touch as though it, not his finger, was inside that
cool, clever mouth.
As Giles had done earlier, Spike stopped and looked at Giles, letting
the finger slide out but keeping hold of his hand. “No more pretending,
Giles,” he said, his eyes challenging.
Giles met his eyes. “I want you,” he said deliberately, reaching up to
cup Spikeâs face with his free hand. His fingers tightened. “Now. So
stop pretending that cuffâs enough to hold you.”
Spike freed himself with an impatient tug and looked at Giles.
“Youâre over dressed,” Giles said, striving to keep his voice calm.
“So are you.”
“Then letâs see what we can do to remedy that.”
“You canât possibly be fond of this shirt so you wonât mind if I just -”
“Undo every button, very slowly,” Giles ordered.
“Oh, bloody hell!”
“Slowly.”
As Spikeâs cool fingers slid inside his shirt, Giles bit his lip and
then reached out, hooked his hand in the neck of Spikeâs T shirt and
pulled. Spike glanced down at the tattered remnants. “What happened to
slowly?”
“It took too long.”
Spike grinned and reached for the zip on Gilesâ trousers but paused as
he heard the front door slam. “Who the fuck is that? Make them go away!
If itâs Harris, use violence.”
Giles grinned as he tugged at Spikeâs jeans. “Oh, Iâm sorry. Did I
forget to mention that Wesley called Angel and arranged to meet him
half way to hand over the jar? Heâs going to be our guest tonight.”
Spikeâs eyes widened in disbelief. “You planned this? You crafty
bugger!”
“Letâs say I improvised on the spur of the moment when Wesley told me
what had happened between you. My - doubts were very real though.”
Spike kissed him with a swift, hard brush of his lips. “I know that.”
The door opened and Wesley leaned against it, arms folded. “Sorry I
took so long. Terrible traffic for the time of night -”
Spikeâs voice was dangerous as he got up off the bed and walked over to
Wesley, the broken cuff hanging from his wrist. “Wesley, do you know
what happens to people who keep me waiting this long to come?”
Wesley lifted his eyebrows, “No, Iâm afraid I donât,” he said politely.
“I hope it doesnât involve anything ticklish.”
“Might do.”
Wesley smiled. “I tend to bite people who tickle me.”
Spikeâs eyes gleamed as he pulled Wesley over to the bed. “Promise?”
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