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 there’s no other way? The spell specifically calls for the... well, it has to be from a vampire?”

“Yes.” Wesley’s 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 it’s a silly question," he asked, "but Angel himself isn’t able to - ?”

“The soul is an unknown factor," Wesley replied. "We can’t take the chance that it will negate the efficacy of the... ingredient.”

“I suppose so. I still don’t quite understand why you’re 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 Cordelia’s vision included a glimpse of someone she remembers very well, though I’ve 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. “It’s a long story but he’s 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 Wesley’s glasses being pushed firmly into place. “A long story. Right. Tell me when I arrive. I’m 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 I’d 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 girl’s 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. “You’ll be recompensed for your, umm, efforts and that should be sufficient incentive. I don’t expect you to care about the girl but -”

“Good. Because I don’t. An upgrade in living conditions, as well as the dosh, and maybe, just maybe, you’ve 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 ‘later’. 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 that’s 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 Spike’s 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?”

“Spike’ll do, Wesley. No need to be formal, considering what we’re about to get up to.”

To his surprise Wesley smiled slowly rather than looking flustered. “Spike it is, then. Upstairs I think, don’t 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 Spike’s arm and twisted it behind his back.

“You’re 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 Giles’ face. “So it’s getting you hot. Know what’s nice and cold? Me.”

Wesley had gone ahead to prepare and was already out of sight. Giles forced Spike’s arm even further up his back until he winced with pain and then used his free hand to hold Spike’s face still as he kissed him, his lips hard and demanding. Pulling away, his breath catching in his throat, Giles held Spike’s 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 it’s 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. “Don’t fight amongst yourselves, lads but get a bloody move on. Don’t want the golden moment to pass.”

Wesley frowned. “I was planning to leave you alone for a minute. Or two.  I don’t understand what you mean.”

Spike smirked. “It’s simple, mate.” He glanced over at Giles. “You know what I mean, don’t you?”

“You’re 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, we’re going to have to help you.”

Wesley gasped, his eyes wide with shock. “That’s not - I never meant - Good Lord!”

Giles never took his eyes off Spike as he answered Wesley. “I don’t 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 can’t let you -”

“Do as you’re told, dammit!”

Wesley’s lips tightened but he held out the jar in silence. Spike waited until Giles’ fingers were wrapped around it and then said, “No. Not you. Him. Or I won’t do it.”

Wesley choked. “I beg your pardon? You expect me to jerk you off? I don’t bloody well think so!”

“Now isn’t that a laugh," Spike mused. "Giles here can’t wait to wrap his hands around me and you’re all fluttering and shy. Am I giving you a hint as to why I want you, not him?”

“Because you’re 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 Spike’s face. He looked up to see Wesley rummaging through his bag. “What’re 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. “I’ve 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 you’ve 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 Wesley’s 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 Spike’s eyes and the scornful awareness. Spike let his eyes drift downwards and then back up to Wesley’s face, a sardonic eyebrow lifting in appreciation of Wesley’s clearly visible reaction to the sight of Spike’s cock. Flushing, Wesley reached for the jar, placing it beside Spike’s leg. He hesitated. The bag he had brought contained a jumble of items he'd thought might be useful. He wasn’t so sure about some of them now. One of the items was a pair of thin, surgical gloves. He tried to imagine Spike’s reaction if he donned them before beginning the proceedure and couldn’t help giving a small, embarrassed snort of laughter.

“What’s so funny?” said Spike, his voice husky with resentment.

Wesley felt dislike snuff out both arousal and amusement. “Believe me, you wouldn’t find it so. I think I’d prefer it if you were silent from now on.”

“What, going to pretend I’m 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 - ”

Spike’s taunting ended abruptly as Wesley, tight-lipped but calm, dripped lube over his fingers and brought them to Spike’s erection. Wesley couldn’t help glancing up to watch Spike’s 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 Spike’s cock, he saw Spike’s eyes fill with desperation as his hips rose from the bed in an unspoken plea. Instinctively his hand tightened and Spike’s 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 Spike’s face and stared down at his own hand and what it held. That didn’t help but he didn’t dare to look away, although something told him that when Spike was about to climax, he’d 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. “That’s it?”

Wesley didn’t turn. “I’m 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 Spike’s side, his hands planted on either side of the slim body, his face inches away from Spike’s. “You want to know? Fine. You hurt Giles. He’s important to me. No, we’ve never been lovers, not that it’s 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, you’re all warrior, fighting evil with the souled freak. Three cheers for you. But you still fancy Giles and you’re still hard for me - you just won’t admit it. Why is an evil vampire the only honest one in the house?”

Wesley began to straighten up but something in Spike’s words changed his mind. He wanted honesty? Fine. Wesley leaned forward and kissed the mouth that he guessed could inflicted more damage than Spike’s 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 that’ll take more guts than kissing me.”

Wesley smiled, relaxing for the first time since he’d entered the house. “I’d love to, but I really do have to go. My... problem will go away by the time I’m home, I’m 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 it’ll take you to get to the end of the street.”

Wesley couldn’t 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 Wesley’s resolve but he remembered the look on Giles’ face and stood up.

“Goodbye, Spike. Thank you for your help and your advice. I’ll think about it.” He nodded, enjoying the surprise that flickered over Spike’s face.

“You’re not going to untie me?”

Wesley grinned, “I think Giles would like to be the one to see to that. I’m sure he’ll be up to deal with you at some point.”

Spike rolled his eyes at Wesley’s choice of words but looked resigned to waiting. Wesley turned and left without looking back. Spike’s 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.

“He’s 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. “You’re welcome.”

Giles brought Spike so far along that stopping would have been sheer cruelty and then let him slip from between his lips. Spike’s eyes were anguished. “Giles - don’t 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 I’ll keep you like this until I get bored,” he warned. “Control yourself. You’re not  in such desperate straits as you were a few hours ago, after all.”

Spike forced back his anger and nodded sullenly. “Don’t 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. Giles’ attention had wandered just slightly and his grip had tightened automatically. “I’d give him a go at seconds any time. Lad’s got guts. Think he’d prefer another partner though.”

Giles looked a question and then flushed. “That’s - 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. I’ll 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 I’m like this, Giles and I’ll -”

“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. “Don’t 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 I’d gladly return the favour but I thought he’d like it better coming from you. What? Not like it’s not occurred to you! If he didn’t have that spell to deal with, you two’d 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 don’t understand why I’m so -”

“Pissed off?” offered Spike.

“That about covers it, yes.”

“You’re cross because I picked Wes, not you? Wasn’t because I wanted him more, you know that. You’re not daft.”

“Your motives were as transparent as glass,” Giles said dryly. “No, of course I wasn’t 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. “I’m lying here, still waiting for you to finish what you started God knows how long ago and you’re telling me I’m suffering because I made Wes blush? Giles, tell me you’re joking!”

Giles pursed his lips and returned his look in silence. Spike squirmed and heaved a sigh. “If it’ll make you happy, I’m sorry, then.”

Giles patted his leg. “Apology accepted. Want some blood before you go to sleep?”

Spike growled low in his throat. “No, I don’t want any fucking blood. I want you to stop playing games. I think I’ve 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. “Don’t think you do, Giles. I think you always know exactly what you’re playing with. I don’t 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 can’t feed, I can’t fight. I need your help. I’m not going anywhere and you know it. Try again.”

Giles avoided Spike’s eyes and rubbed a hand across his forehead before speaking. “You’re not making this easy, Spike.”

“Why should I? I’ve been watching you. Nothing better to do, have I? You’ve been hard every time I’ve seen you, every time you come near me. Doesn’t take a vampire to spot that. Was wondering if you’d ever get around to doing anything about it. Figured you were too scared. Pity.”

Giles shrugged impatiently. “I’m not scared, Spike. The consequences of any relationship with you, no matter how casual, are too dire to contemplate. I’ve spent most of my life learning how to kill your kind after all. It would be a betrayal of my position.”

“Thought you’d been fired.”

Giles gave him a level glance. “I’m still the Slayer’s Watcher and we both know it.”

“I know she’s only keeping you around for old time’s sake. I’d say she’s figured out which end’s the pointy one and where to shove it. Face it; she’s learned all you can teach her. Not like it’s a complicated job.” His voice softened. “When did you last have any fun, Giles? That’s all this has to be.”

Giles shook his head. “I think we both know that’s 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 Spike’s right hand and then turned to put the key and cuffs out of reach. Spike’s 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 Spike’s face with his free hand. His fingers tightened. “Now. So stop pretending that cuff’s enough to hold you.”

Spike freed himself with an impatient tug and looked at Giles.

“You’re over dressed,” Giles said, striving to keep his voice calm.

“So are you.”

“Then let’s see what we can do to remedy that.”

“You can’t possibly be fond of this shirt so you won’t mind if I just -”

“Undo every button, very slowly,” Giles ordered.

“Oh, bloody hell!”

“Slowly.”

As Spike’s cool fingers slid inside his shirt, Giles bit his lip and then reached out, hooked his hand in the neck of Spike’s 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 Giles’ trousers but paused as he heard the front door slam. “Who the fuck is that? Make them go away! If it’s Harris, use violence.”

Giles grinned as he tugged at Spike’s jeans. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I forget to mention that Wesley called Angel and arranged to meet him half way to hand over the jar? He’s going to be our guest tonight.”

Spike’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You planned this? You crafty bugger!”

“Let’s 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 -”

Spike’s 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, I’m afraid I don’t,” he said politely. “I hope it doesn’t involve anything ticklish.”

“Might do.”

Wesley smiled. “I tend to bite people who tickle me.”

Spike’s eyes gleamed as he pulled Wesley over to the bed. “Promise?”

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