Spike slams his hands down on Angel’s desk, pretty face pouty as he
whines for a new car.
Angel waits patiently as Spike’s voice trails off and his eyes sharpen
as he sniffs and looks astonished, then gleeful.
It’s all very dramatic and creature of the night but it’s a little
overdone.
Don’t need a good sense of smell to know Angel fucked Wes on that desk
ten minutes ago.
Just need eyes.
Because Wes is kneeling naked in the corner being punished.
And Spike’s hand is on the reason why.
Wes comes when he’s told or not at all.