BY : QueenBoadicea
Category: Angel the Series > Slash - Male/Male > Angel(us)/Lindsey > Angel(us)/Lindsey
Dragon prints: 6837
Disclaimer: I do not own Angel: The Series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

“Been missing it, haven’t you, Linds?”

Lindsey doesn’t bother responding, something he knows will drive the demon right up the wall.

Spike frowns and tries again. “Seems the great pouf’s been busy with that werewolf bint. What’s her name again? Nina?”

Lindsey mentally rolls his eyes. Spike is so unsubtle. Has he learned nothing from his years spent with Angelus? “Maybe you’re the one feeling the itch. What’s the matter--none of your current dates up to your low standards? I know you like them brunette and crazy.”

“Well, I’m not picky. Brunette will do for me.”

Lindsey can hear the interest in Spike’s voice and smirks. “Sorry, William. No longer interested. Maybe I prefer them brunette, too.”

“I’m smelling differently. And it’s Spike to you.”

Lindsey doesn’t give a shit what Spike smells. He’s horny, all right--just not for the vamp sitting beside him. “Don’t like William, huh? Maybe you’d prefer Doc.”

Spike’s boots slam against the floor as the chair he’s tilting in comes crashing down. He glares hatefully at Lindsey. “What the fuck do you know about that, you berk?”

“About your little side deal in Sunnydale selling demon eggs?” Lindsey gives the peroxide vampire a slow grin, showing teeth this time. “We’re Wolfram & Hart, Spike. Learning about other people’s dirty secrets is pretty much our raison d’etre.”

“You want to know a real secret, Linds?” Spike drawls, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket. The meeting room is clearly designated as being a “No Smoking” area but Spike gets off on flouting the rules. All part of his image as a bad boy and hellraiser.

Pointless rebellion is frowned upon at the law firm; Lindsey learned that early on. Spike’s mindless flouting of the rules is boring. He wonders why he ever found the creature attractive. Oh right. Vampire with a soul. Substitute for Angel. Speaking of Angel, he wonders when the tall, dark, silent one will arrive. The meeting is supposed to start in ten minutes. Lindsey likes to arrive early, a habit ingrained from his early stint in Wolfram & Hart. Getting in late had been unwise with the people in charge; it made you look like you didn’t care or didn’t think their summonses important enough to merit your attention. Coming in ahead of the others also gave you a chance to gain composure and scope out the office competition when they made their arrivals. A lot of information could be gleaned in those first few seconds of someone striding through a door, clutching their folders and briefs in too-tight grips.

It is unusual for Spike to arrive early, though. He frequently comes in last and late, holding up the meetings until he makes his dramatic entrances. There are days when he doesn’t show up at all, dismissing Angel’s furious demands by saying he’s got “personal business”. All this is nothing more than demonstrating his amused contempt for Angel’s leadership. “Angel may be the boss but I don’t give a toss about that” is his unspoken declaration and they all see through it. It doesn’t prevent him from being a frickin’ pain in the ass though.

Lindsey has learned to overlook Spike’s grandstanding and the vampire is understandably pissed off about it. His coming in ahead of schedule today is probably his chance to take potshots at Lindsey while Angel isn’t around. “…goes to talk to her when she’s in that little cage. What is it with him and small blonds anyway?”

“Hmmm?” He’s drifted out and didn’t hear what Spike has been saying.

Spike blows out a puff of smoke in Lindsey’s direction. “What’s the matter, Linds? Been daydreaming again? Thinking about the big pouf shagging you into the mattress? I know how much you like taking it up the arse but you might want to listen to this. Angel’s been chatting up that Nina bint every time she shows up here.”

Lindsey tells himself he’s not interested. Okay, so he didn’t know that Angel was talking to Nina. He’s not going to let that bother him. He’s sure the dark-haired vampire has his own reasons for visiting a client…whatever they are. He does know that Angel gets all riled up when she visits. During the time she becomes a lycanthrope, sex with Angel gets even wilder than usual. The scent of a werewolf changing produces a dramatic effect in the vampire, causing him to be even more passionate than usual. Guess it literally brought the beast out in him.

Lindsey has made the mistake of complaining once--just once, mind you--that, while he has demon stamina, his body is merely mortal. It takes time to recuperate from the feral sex the vampire is capable of and he is tired of walking into work the next day sore and bowlegged, with scratches all over his body.

Angel had backed off with a guilty expression. After that he had refused to come near the Southern ex-lawyer again while the werewolf was in the building. Kicking himself for his own stupidity, Lindsey had tried to persuade him that it hadn’t been all that bad, that he was certain Angel could moderate the sex--perhaps even let Lindsey be on top more often. But the vampire had been firm in keeping away from him.

Lindsey has wondered what Angel does during those times when Nina is on the premises but hasn’t wanted to pry. Spike is all too happy to enlighten him.

“I’m pretty sure he’s not shagging her while she’s in the furry stage. Werewolves were never Angelus’s thing. Fact is, when they were around, the pickings got really slim. Vampires learn to be careful about hiding their kills, you see. We can make them look like ordinary human killings, if we’re smart. But werewolves are bad news. No subtlety, the lot of them. They leave their corpses all bloody and messy and out in the open where folks can’t help but see them. That makes humans nervy and hiding in their houses at night. Sooner or later, they call in werewolf hunters and then vamps get caught in the crossfire.”

Spike blows another smoke cloud, certain he’s got Lindsey’s attention now. “But, see, that’s not a problem with this Nina bint. She’s locked up in that cage of hers, all safe and tidy--Angelus’s got a thing for cages. As long as other folk are in ‘em.”

Yes, Lindsey knows all about that. He’s familiar with most of Angelus and Angel’s kinks, thanks to his time spent with Darla. But Spike isn’t finished with him yet. “Takes time for a werewolf to change and that Nina always arrives way before schedule. Claims she doesn’t want to risk getting caught in traffic accident or an earthquake or whatever and get in the change while she’s in public.”

He leans closer to Lindsey. “But that don’t explain why she’s always in those tight clothes like she’s on a date. Or wears that perfume and those high heels. She and the great pouf even went on a date once. Bet you didn’t know that, huh, Lins.” Spike smirks, the cigarette smoke curling out of his nose in curls.

Date? No, he didn’t know that. Angel never mentioned-- Shit, Spike is getting to him, just as the dyed menace wants. The vampire probably knows it and Lindsey is determined not to give him the satisfaction. They always say the best defense is a good offense.

“Spike, what’s the matter? You only take potshots at other people when you’re miserable. Guess the women really haven’t been interested in you. Maybe if your technique evolved beyond hitting on the sluts you try picking up in alleys, your chances would improve.” Inspiration hits. “Or has the news that Angel’s Slayer has been with another immortal got you annoyed?”

Bingo. Spike’s face becomes blank but not before Lindsey has seen the flash of pain in it. Lindsey Macdonald knows something about turning the screws on opponents, too. Unbeknownst to either vampire, Lindsey has been keeping surreptitious tabs on Buffy Summers. Know thy enemy--a useful rule in Wolfram & Hart and elsewhere. She’s not his enemy, per se, but she does present a significant part of Angel and Spike’s past and Lindsey thinks it’s a good idea to keep an eye on her. After her last appearance in Los Angeles, when she went after Faith, he wants ample warning if she ever swings by Angel’s stomping ground again.

So he knows what she’s been up to abroad and evidently Spike knows it as well. The vampire’s sneer returns with something ugly attached to it. “I haven’t been as upset as Peaches. Then again, maybe that explains his taken up with Nina. A hot little werewolf bint would make a nice replacement.”

“Bint? That’s how you talk about women, Spike? That kind of talk is really non-PC, you know.”

“Sod that. That kind of face-saving tosh is good enough for humans. Vampires don’t give a toss about it.”

“Another reason you’re striking out with the ladies. You’re such a charmer, Spike.”

“It was good enough for you, weren’t it?”

“Past tense, Spike. And you know you weren’t the top of my list. If Nina is a substitute for Ms. Summers, then you were definitely not the person I was thinking of when you were screwing me. Just the same way Buffy took you as a substitute for--”

The fist comes flying out before he sees it, catching him off guard and knocking him to the floor. He tastes iron in his mouth and looks up to see Spike glaring down at him. “You keep your mouth shut about that, you hear? That’s none of your sodding business!”

Lindsey spits, noting the gob of crimson splattering the carpet. He damn well hopes they don’t have a client this morning; blood never comes completely out of the upholstery. “What’s the matter, Doc? You can dish it out but you can’t take it?”

Spike strides towards him but Lindsey has already regained his feet. He spits again, this time directly into the vampire’s face. Spike is too close to duck and the blood catches him neatly in the eyes. He reaches up to wipe it away and Lindsey takes the opportunity to return the blow, hitting Spike right on his nose. There is a satisfying “crack!” just before the vampire tackles him and sends him to the floor.

At that moment, the meeting room door flies open. “What the hell is going on?” Wesley’s outrage spills over the two combatants. Spike scowls; clearly he’d been so incensed he hadn’t heard the other man approach. Lindsey uses the distraction to shove off the vampire but not before giving him a very satisfying knee to the groin. The dyed vamp curls into a ball as Lindsey scrambles upright once more. “Nothing to worry yourself about, Wesley. Spike and I were just shooting the breeze and exchanging dating tips. You know--guy stuff.”

Angel is behind Wesley and black eyes narrow when he hears this. That penetrating gaze sweeps over both men and then he shakes his head in dismissal. The group convenes to discuss yet another vision but Lindsey knows the matter isn’t settled by a long shot.


It’s been four days. Angel hasn’t asked Lindsey about the incident and it’s making the former lawyer nervous. The vampire doesn’t necessarily push at other people’s boundaries. But that business with the videotape has shown him to have a very possessive streak. So why hasn’t he asked what he and Spike were doing rolling around on the floor like two kids on the playground?

Lindsey considers this as he rides the elevator up to Angel’s place. Their place. It is stocked with human food and his clothes as well as a rack for his guitar--a gift from Angel. The vampire has made it clear Lindsey can stay as long as the Southerner wants. He hasn’t tired of Lindsey yet and Lindsey is far too much involved to leave without considerable motive.

But he keeps a little apartment for himself outside the law office. It’s a good place to retreat to when he wants to think without the vampire’s hovering presence. Angel had been blank-faced when Lindsey had told him this; he’d been nervous, worried that the vampire would see it as a rejection. Then Angel had nodded slowly. “Good idea, Lindsey. I used to keep the odd bolt-hole myself when I was running with Darla and the others. Drusilla would come sniffing me out when she wanted; she could always find me somehow. But it was good to have a place of my own. Sometimes it saved my hide when the demon hunters came a-knocking.”

There was nothing more said and Lindsey had relaxed. At the same time, he’d felt a twinge of annoyance that Angel hadn’t put up a bigger fuss. Wouldn’t a real lover have wanted Lindsey to be with him permanently? Did Angel simply not…care? It’s crazy, this doubt. Even after all these months and Angel’s attentions--ample proof about how Lindsey is the one he wants--the Southerner is still racked by insecurity. He’s had too much experience with vampires to trust them completely.

He sighs and straightens. He’s let Spike provoke him; that’s the problem. The vampire is good at picking up on people’s insecurities and exploiting them for his own sadistic pleasure. It’s a quality Lindsey can appreciate, having used it to undermine many an opponent’s client in his bad old days at Wolfram & Hart.

The elevator dings softly and his heart begins to race. He’s itching to see Angel again. The full moon is finally on the wane and the werebitch has gone back to her own home. It’s nasty to think of her like that but, hey, it’s not like he’s a saint or anything. And he’s glad her departure has coincided with the weekend. Now he has three nights and two days to play with his partner.

When he makes it to the penthouse, he is surprised by its eerie quiet. Of course, Angel never makes any noise or very little. But somehow Lindsey can tell whenever the vampire is in the vicinity. It’s due to his scar but partially a sixth sense he’s developed. He can’t feel other vampires this way--even Spike never registers on him. Lindsey reads more into this than he should but, after seven months with Angel, he just can’t help it.

Lindsey wanders through the ample space searching for him but the vampire is not here. He spies an envelope prominently displayed on the TV. The note inside is brief. “Lindsey, meet me in the dungeons. Third level. Nina’s cage. Angel.

Oookay, this is strange. Strange, different--and exciting. Angel knew Lindsey would come for him. And the mention of a cage… What was it Spike had said about Angelus and his fetish for cages? He replaces the letter in the envelope. Then he thinks better of it. Inside the kitchen, he burns it over the range. His time with W&H has made him paranoid and he’s learned never to leave a paper trail. Almost breathless with anticipation, he rushes from the penthouse.


Angel checks the straps, hooks and chains and steps back to look over his work critically. The bound figure in the cage twitches and snarls behind the gag. He reaches out to work his thumb over the plump lower lip. He grins when a ferocious glare from the blond is directed his way. He snickers. “Ooh, what a scary look. Bet you wish you could bite me right now, don’t you? Too bad.”

Without warning he whips the belt he’s concealed behind his back over the plump buttocks. He puts as much force as he can behind the blow without breaking the skin. The figure grunts and sways in the chains suspending it from the top of the cage. “You liked that, didn’t you? Such a taste for pain. Well, I’m going to be indulging that little fetish tonight.”

He leans closer and whispers into the shell-like ear. “You’ve got to learn that you’re not the one...”

“Angel?” He turns around, his broad frame concealing the person in the cage for the moment. “Hello, Lindsey. How’re ya feeling?”

“Fine.” Lindsey eyes him cautiously, his blue-eyed gaze flicking to the belt in his hand, then back to the leather-clad man in front of him. “Angel, what’s going on?”

Angel steps aside, exposing the tied-up prisoner. “Surprise.”

Lindsey’s eyes widen. He’d known that Angel would have something special planned. He hasn’t figured on this.

Spike is naked, his muscular body encased in strategic places by leather straps. A ball gag is in his mouth, effectively muffling whatever he’s trying to say. His arms and legs are held behind his back as he hangs face down from the chains suspending him from the top of the cage. His knees have been forced apart by the placement of the chains as well, exposing him to Angel’s gaze. When Spike had been fucking him, the demon had always remained clothed. Taken by the peroxide blond from behind and in the dark, Lindsey had never so much as seen his body nor did he particularly want to.

Now however, looked at objectively, he has to admit that Spike is gorgeous. His unchanging immortal body is bewitchingly pale, with a marble sheen to it that is a vivid contrast to the black leather binding him. The body is spare and compact, without a spare bit of flesh anywhere, save for the plump buttocks. Every taut muscle is exposed as he flexes in his straps. Even the prominent cheekbones are highlighted by the straps holding the gag in place and fastened securely behind his head.

Lindsey looks downward. The blond’s cock has been wrapped around with strategically placed straps as well, an arrangement that Lindsey has heard referred to as a “Grecian sandal”. A thin nozzle is inserted in the tip of the cock and Lindsey flushes as he realizes the implications.

“I’ve been talking to Spike here about what happened in the meeting room earlier this week. He hasn’t been exactly forthcoming. Care to enlighten me, Lindsey?” Charcoal eyes meet blue ones. Lindsey forces himself not to look away.

“It’s nothing important, Angel. Just a stupid conversation that got out of hand.”

“Really? So Spike wasn’t making a play for you?”

Calm is essential here. He refuses to let Angel know how jealous he’d gotten, how his insecurities had once again risen to bite him. “No.”

“I smelled differently.”

Damn vampires with their keen senses. Wouldn’t he ever be able to hide anything from this man again?

Angel continues in a musing tone. “Spike and I have had our share of fights in the past about who gets to play with each other’s…partners.” The brunette vampire’s gaze sharpens. He’s picked up on something, in Lindsey’s eyes or his stance or his heartbeat. “So that’s it. He’s been bothering you about sex, hasn’t he?”

“Not that. Look, Angel, just let it go. Spike’s insignificant. Why are we even wasting time with him?” Lindsey drawls. He’s maintaining his indifference but he realizes it’s a losing battle.

“Lindsey, you forget. I’ve run with Spike for a long time. I know how he thinks. When he gets frustrated with his sex life--or lack of it--he takes it out on other people. Hurting other people mentally appeals to the demon in him. I can relate. I used to play such games myself. But he’s got to learn that times have changed and I’m not putting up with his nonsense any more.”

Angel’s expression now is almost…vicious. Lindsey suppresses a shudder, hoping that look is never directed his way. Although there were times in the past when he’d been on the wrong side of a fight against Angel, the vampire had never tortured him with malice aforethought. Lindsey is fully aware of Angelus’s atrocities, however, and knows how much he was spared.

Angel reaches out and strokes Spike’s body in precise patterns. The grimace on Spike’s face melts away. Almost imperceptibly, his body relaxes and then quivers as Angel touches him. His eyes glaze just a little before they squeeze shut. He tries to move himself away from Angel’s caresses but it is impossible. It is clear that Angel is taking advantage of prior knowledge of the blond’s body.

In spite of himself, Spike is responding to the older vampire’s skillful hands. The cock is only half-hard but it is lengthening, stretching along Spike’s stomach as Lindsey watches. The broad hands stroke over the chest, pinching the nipples. Then he presses on a spot on the blond vampire’s side. Slowly, he rubs in a precise circle. Spike lets out a strangled moan behind the gag and Lindsey’s cock hardens.

He knows that sound. He has made it often enough, although he’d never been gagged when it happened. That kind of restraint isn’t his thing; Angel knows this and has never tried it on him. The vampire likes hearing him scream too much…

But Spike can’t seem to keep himself from making that noise. Then Angel’s hand comes down on his buttocks with a resounding “crack”. The sound is amazingly loud in the enclosed space and Lindsey nearly jumps out of his skin at hearing it.

Spike’s reaction is even better. The blue eyes fly open as the body twitches violently in the straps. The buttocks bob down and then back up as though begging for a repetition. Angel obliges. Lindsey is treated to the sight of the brunette alternately lashing at Spike’s buttcheeks with a belt and spanking and pinching the flesh with his hands.

Vampires may have no circulation but the blood is being brought to the surface nonetheless. Spike’s ass is reddening under the stimuli of leather and flesh and the rest of him is no less responsive. Muscles quiver; the body swings rhythmically in the chains; choked moans burst from behind the red plastic ball jammed between the plush lips. The blond’s cock is swelling in its restraints. In mere moments, it has become painfully erect, straining against the tiny straps.

Spike is writhing in his bonds now, unable to withhold his anguish from the other vampire tormenting him. The moans from behind the gag turn to whimpers of distress. Angel is leaving the most vital part of Spike’s anatomy untouched. Not that a touch would do any good, considering how his dick is imprisoned. In fact, it would likely make it worse.

“What’s the matter, Spike? Feeling kinda…pent up? I know it’s been a while.” Angel’s hands drift over the nearest buttock and reach between Spike’s spread legs.

Uh oh.

His fingers start stroking the shaft, teasing at the head with irritatingly feather-light touches. “Hmm. This looks like it needs attention.” He teases his victim for several moments with that cunning touch Lindsey knows so well. Then his hand drops away, causing Spike to let out an indignant squeak behind the gag. “Too bad I’m just not interested in you that way any more.”

Angel turns to Lindsey. “Come here, baby.”

Lindsey’s eyes snap towards Angel at hearing the endearment. The smoky brown eyes are melting, the tender expression completely at odds with the scornful treatment he’s been meting out to the other vampire. He steps forward and is wrapped up tight in Angel’s embrace. The taller brunette gives him a meltingly torrid kiss and Lindsey sinks into him with a moan.

Those tepid lips pull and tease, the tongue coming out to press on his mouth until he opens to Angel. The kiss is unhurried, drawn out and oh-so-tender, Angel’s tongue lapping in teasing flicks at his. A pointed nick, so swift he barely feels it, and Angel’s sucking takes on a different quality.

Lindsey starts at feeling a chilly sensation against his back. Angel has backed him up gradually until he’s pressed against the bars. When the vampire starts tugging his belt out of his straps, he breaks the kiss. A glance over Angel’s shoulder shows Spike staring at them before the blond scowls and averts his eyes. Angel’s feral yellow eyes meet his and Lindsey shivers. The hunger there is palpable, so molten his own bones seem about to melt. But Spike is right here and exhibitionism is not one of Lindsey’s kinks.

Lindsey licks his lip, tastes the blood there. “Um, Angel. I don’t think I’m ready for this.”

“Okay, baby. We can save that for another time.” Ignoring Lindsey’s nervousness at the words “another time”, he turns back to Spike. “Guess you’ll have to do without us, William. But I don’t want to leave you without any entertainment.”

Marching past Spike, he reaches for a blanket carelessly tossed on the floor. Lindsey had noted it in passing but figured it was where Nina slept and hadn’t paid it any mind. When Angel pulls it back, his throat goes dry. Hot damn. Under the blanket is an assortment of sexual toys. Some Lindsey is very familiar with, harkening back to his non-Angel days when he’d wanted the vampire so badly it hurt. But there are a few so bizarre in shape even he doesn’t recognize them. He can’t even guess what they’re for.

Angel picks up a flesh-colored dildo and fiddles with something underneath it. Immediately a buzzing noise fills the air. Shit. Lindsey knows where this is going and he knows where that is going and he can’t help wincing in sympathy. Spike’s look becomes frantic and the chains jingle as he struggles in his bonds. Angel moves behind Spike, the buzzing toy swinging negligently in his hand. The blond’s splayed legs leave him completely exposed, helpless to prevent his impending molestation. A broad hand rests over the buttocks, rubbing it in circles.

“There’s no lube. Don’t want to dull the sensation too much. So you’d better relax. I’ll try to be gentle--then again, maybe I won’t.” He chuckles as if at an amusing joke.

Lindsey wanders over in a hypnotic daze. He knows his being here as a witness is part of this game. He’s been forced to watch demonic rituals in the past with Wolfram & Hart but this kind of scene is definitely a new wrinkle. He should be shocked, appalled, protesting at Spike’s treatment at Angel’s hands. But he just can’t help watching as the older vampire continues his torture of his grandchilde.

Angel’s index finger is probing at Spike’s sphincter. Spike reacts, his ass clenching as he tries to keep Angel out. Those ivory-hued mounds are quivering delightfully. Lindsey suddenly wants to stroke them just to feel them shaking under his hand. He wonders if the skin there is as silky as it looks. He stifles the thought; somehow he knows Angel wouldn’t appreciate him touching a rival. The choked sounds of outrage from the captive are changing in timber, becoming softer, like pleading. Two fingers are deep inside Spike now, thrusting at a precise angle. The fair-haired vampire is writhing in his bonds, lower-pitched moans erupting with every slide of the digits reaming his ass.

Lindsey doesn’t need to see Spike’s face now to know what he’s feeling. The undulating body is as responsive as a needy virgin’s, arching back towards Angel’s hand, the asshole clutching now on the intrusive fingers. When the fingers are withdrawn, there is another inarticulate yell. Then Angel thrusts in the vibrator.

Lindsey didn’t think anyone could scream that loudly behind a gag.

Spike’s whole body tenses, the silk turning to steel as he arches in a bow. Then movement returns. His hips are bobbing, wriggling, in a manic attempt to dislodge the instrument torturing him. The chains rattle violently, their tintinnabulation a loud testament to his futile struggles. “I think we can leave Spike alone with his new friend now,” Angel remarks, winking at his partner.

Lindsey swallows. This is so very wrong, standing by while another person is being molested like this. It’s true that Spike isn’t a human being; he has no rights under the law. This is not precisely rape and it sure isn’t torture like the kind Angelus would be capable of. But the immorality of it is inescapable. But Lindsey has seen worse, done worse, in his pre-Angel days with W&H and he knows Spike is getting off easy here. Not that’s he getting off any time soon.

He has to admit it: he’s been undeniably aroused by this scene, his dick in a state of near-agony almost as great as Spike’s. It’s disturbing for him to feel this way; watching other people getting tortured has never been a turn-on for him. But this image…oh yeah, too hot for words. While he sympathizes with Spike’s plight, he’s not about to do anything to end it.

Angel reaches for the discarded blanket. He grabs Lindsey and propels him through the open door of the cage. When the door clangs shut behind them, he drapes the blanket over the front, effectively concealing them from the blond vampire’s sight. However, the fabric is no barrier against sound and Lindsey can still hear Spike’s needy squeals. When Angel begins stripping in front of him, his throat closes up. “Angel, I don’t…”

“What’s the matter, Lindsey? I thought you wanted this.” He sniffs ostentatiously and his ridges ripple and vanish over his face. His heart thunders so violently he knows Angel must have picked up on it. Thanks to Angel’s bites, vampire ridges and fangs have become an undeniable turn-on for him. At this moment, his whole body is yearning towards the demon peeling off every stitch of cloth in front of him and he reaches out to caress an exposed nipple. Angel growls, the sound echoing through the space and momentarily drowning out the whimpers and buzzing inside the cage.

“Angel, this really isn’t my kind of scene,” Lindsey mutters. It’s ridiculous; he shouldn’t have such modesty after all he’s done with Angel. Yet the idea of a spectator, even a hidden one, is unnerving.

Angel shrugs. “Have it your way, baby.” There is no condemnation or disappointment in his voice. He’s willing to let Lindsey call the shots here and that is surprising, not to mention a tad worrisome. Angel is up to something and his willingness to concede to Lindsey on this point doesn’t mean he’s abandoned his scheme for this evening, whatever it is.

Angel has taken off the last bit of his clothing, arranging it in a neat pile. The leather coat is spread full length on the floor. Angel pauses to stare critically at it before turning his attentions back to his partner. Lindsey is gathered close, flush against that naked flesh, and his eyelids flutter shut as his mouth is ravished again. Those broad hands are skimming along his body, impeded only by the clothing Lindsey has insisted upon.

When Angel shoves him against the wall, one broad thigh between his, Lindsey gasps at the unexpectedness of it. Angel’s hands seem everywhere. Nipples are pinched; his ass is cupped and rolled in its denim prison. The thigh is thrusting rhythmically at his crotch, at times almost lifting Lindsey from the floor. Soon, he’s sighing and moaning against Angel’s mouth, his hips arching again and again, desperate to feel as much as he can. Lindsey is writhing in suppressed agony. The sensation is good but lacking the satisfaction of flesh against flesh.

He doesn’t want to strip, doesn’t want to put on any kind of a show with Spike nearby. But the brunette vampire pinning him to the wall shows no sign of relenting and his need is becoming urgent. The cool air of the dungeon dampening the sweat on his chest rouses Lindsey a bit. The vampire has started unbuttoning his shirt, taking advantage of his partner’s dazed state. “Angel…” he protests, pushing at the bigger man’s shoulders. He jumps when Angel strokes over a nipple. That aureole is hypersensitive since the vampire bit him there during one of their fucks and he mewls unashamedly.

“Relax, Lindsey. I’m not taking your shirt off. Just want easier access.” Without waiting for any further protest, he latches on to the bitten nipple and begins scraping at it with blunt teeth.

“Ahh, fuck! Angel!” Heat squirms under Lindsey’s flesh like a tiny serpent, seeking an outlet. He arches towards his lover, winding his fingers in the short hair, driving himself as close as he can against the cooler flesh. Tiny whimpers are erupting from him while his legs shake uncontrollably. The vampire’s grip on his ass and the wall behind him are the only things holding the mortal upright at this point.

“Let’s get comfortable, Lindsey.” Angel has stopped suckling at him and Lindsey is wretched at the sudden loss of stimulus. Before he can complain about it, however, the vampire has maneuvered him to lie on the heap of cloth. Lindsey finds himself face up on the floor, his head pointed towards the covered cage. Only the layers of his clothing and Angel’s leather coat protect him from the chilly surface.

He’d wondered why Angel was wearing that coat indoors. It is sexy how Angel wears it, the way it flares out from his body when he moves. But the vampire rarely dons it anymore except when he’s going out to battle. Seeing it on him inside had been a turn-on, rousing his memories of the days when Angel had grabbed him out of nowhere, pressing him against that supple cow skin.

Now he is lying on that coat, gasping for much-needed air as Angel’s hands wander down his body. Angel himself nestles above Lindsey and once more the singer is subjected to those soul-stealing kisses. That mouth and tongue--one moment pulling at his swollen lips, the next lapping at the still-oozing cut in the corner of his mouth and then fluttering over his chin until it descends to his waiting scar.

“Yes, oh fuck…” Lindsey bites his lip as the familiar ecstasy begins throbbing beneath his skin like another heartbeat. Even if the other parts of his body went untouched for the rest of his life, the slick tongue brushing over that ridge of flesh would be enough to set him off. Angel knows this and withdraws his mouth teasingly before Lindsey is pushed over the edge. When he tries to hold Angel’s head there to increase the stimulation, the vampire wriggles away. Taking no notice of his partner’s whine of distress, the demon fiddles in his coat pocket and draws out something bright, an object that winks in the dim light and rattles faintly. Lindsey squints, not understanding what he’s seeing at first.

Angel dangles the nipple clamps before his eyes. “Do you like them, Lindsey?” His fingers caress the sky blue stones fastened to the ends. “They’re sapphires. I had them especially made to match your eyes.”

Lindsey’s mouth goes dry again. Nipple clamps? Angel had mentioned these once; he had thought it an idle bit of talk and forgotten it. Angel apparently hasn’t and now means to put his words into action. This is meant to be a gift, albeit a bizarre one. Not the sort presented on bended knee during a candlelight dinner, that’s for sure, but a gift nonetheless. He knows he should be flattered but fear is struggling against desire. He tries looking at the present objectively.

Three chains run from one clamp to another. The stones are gorgeous and look expensive; Lindsey has an eye for such things. But the thought of where they’re meant to go spooks him. Before he can move or protest, however, Angel has fastened the clamps to his exposed nips. Lindsey shouts, more startled by the surprise of it than the pinch of pain. He wants to pull them off but his hands are pinned above him, caught by the vampire’s grip on his wrist. Angel’s free hand runs down his side, soothing the trembling human beneath him. “That’s it, baby. Relax. You’re too strong to be really scared by this.”

“Angel, please.” Lindsey squirms, the tiny pressures on his chest too tight to be ignored. It doesn’t hurt exactly, the discomfort just borderline of pain, but he’s not certain he likes it. Yet he wants to accept what Angel is doing, if only to please his unpredictable partner.

Angel smiles in approval, the charcoal eyes brimming with an unnamable emotion. “Oh, Lindsey. Do you have any idea how beautiful you look now?”

Beautiful? The word is enough to shock him into stillness and he searches Angel’s eyes, trying to figure out this new game.

“Good, Lindsey. Very good. Let’s see how well you learn.” Angel tugs at the chains lightly.

“Fuck!” A gasp rips out of Lindsey and he arches up to relieve the pain. When Angel stops, he falls back against the floor, gulping for breath. The pain has been followed by a frisson of heat, a burst of warmth that translates into the first tendrils of bliss. Angel begins a systematic torture. Now he’s tugging at the chain; now he’s lapping at Lindsey’s scar on his neck. Lindsey writhes, chasing the whip-coils of delight that are streaking through his body. Angel’s thigh is grinding between his legs again.

But the feeling isn’t enough, too dulled by the restricting material, and evidently the vampire is dissatisfied as well. Angel unbuckles his jeans, opening the pants just wide enough so that he can snake a hand down into the crotch. His expert squeezes right where Lindsey wants them melt away the last of the Southerner’s resistance.

Moans curl out of Lindsey’s throat. All sense of shame is gone. He is no longer aware of Spike, or, if he is, he doesn’t give a damn. He wants Angel’s cock, everything that his partner has to give and, if that means dancing to Angel’s tune, he’s all too willing. But the hand has left his dick as if Angel has grown bored. The nails scrape in light intricate patterns all over his heaving chest and down his belly. When Angel cups his balls, Lindsey bobs his hips, anxious for relief. “Angel, dammit,” he hisses in frustration.

“What was that, Lindsey? I didn’t hear.” Lindsey could kick him. Angel is teasing him; Lindsey knows it. The acuity of vampire hearing rivals that of fruit bats and abruptly the mortal is reminded of the other demon behind the curtain. He tries to move away. But Angel clamps down on his thighs and sucks his cock into his mouth with one swift movement.

Lindsey hisses again when that tongue flicks in subtle patterns across the tip. As Angel sucks deeper, the tongue laps at the underside of his cock, in the rhythm and pressure that Lindsey loves so much. Just as he feels the familiar tightening in this groin, Angel stops again.

“Annnngellll…” Lindsey’s cry now is one of frustrated agony. This is one of the vampire’s games, one of his torturous fucks meant to keep him dancing on edge. Lindsey knows that he will get off eventually but that thought doesn’t lessen the delicious pain he’s experiencing.

“Too much in the way,” Angel growls. He’s pulling off Lindsey’s boots, throwing them aside while he tugs down the jeans. Lindsey wants to stop him. He’s nearly naked now, just the way Angel wanted from the beginning, and he grits his teeth when he realizes how neatly he’s been played. But when the vampire descends on his cock again, all thought of rebellion vanishes from his mind.

The demon pulls at his hips but Lindsey needs no urging. He shoves his dick hard down Angel’s throat--convenient to have a partner you don’t have to worry about choking. Gutteral moans are dragged from him with each pull; he no longer tries to stop Angel but grips the demon’s head, dragging him close. “God, fuck, more.” Once more, powerful breathless suction. Once again, rapture coaxed to the erupting point. Once more…the vampire stops.

No, dammit, NO! Lindsey bangs his head on the floor, ready to scream, not giving a damn whether Spike hears him or not. But the dark-haired vampire’s body has snaked over his. He is peeling Lindsey’s shirt off his shoulders, tugging the chains with every other movement until Lindsey is too breathless to protest. “Want to touch all of you, feel all of you, smell all of you,” Angel mutters. He snuffles at Lindsey’s throat, rasping at the scar so that the other man quivers. “Want to drink all of you.”

The feral desire in those words, the lust that never fails to ignite within him when Angel licks or touches him right there undoes Lindsey completely. His skin is bare now but he doesn’t realize it, doesn’t care about anything but the vampire bringing him such passion, yet all the while keeping him from reaching his completion. Suddenly he is flipped over. His ass is pushed in the air, one of Angel’s favorite positions, and Lindsey doesn’t hesitate to oblige by spreading his knees apart. Now he feels the silken tip of--no, it’s too small to be what he’s been waiting for. Angel’s tongue pushes into him and Lindsey squirms backward, thrusting himself against the vampire. “Umm, yes, more. Don’t stop. Please,” he whimpers.

Angel makes no answer. Well, of course, he can’t, given that his mouth is busy elsewhere. The tongue curls inside him, working its magic, and Lindsey’s hands fist in the leather coat. He presses his face against the cloth and bites into it, inhaling deeply of Angel’s scent. Lindsey is pumping his ass ruthlessly into Angel’s face. It must be uncomfortable but the vampire makes no complaints. Just when he thinks he’s about to cum from the tongue alone, Angel rears up and sinks his cock into him.

Lindsey moans in mingled relief and delight. Yes, this is what he’s wanted, what he’s been begging for like a hungry man starved for food. Angel is fucking him, showing him the excruciating pleasure that only he can. He’s facing the curtain now. Nothing to see there so he closes his eyes. But they fly open when Angel begins pulling at the chains again.

“Oh, shit!” The bursts of heat from his chest are abrupt, stinging. They blend seamlessly with the pleasure coming from his other end and Lindsey gives strangled gasps with each tug. The rhythm is deliberate, a counterbalance to the dick driving through his ass. Lindsey finds himself arching forward into the chains and back against Angel in a constant rippling motion. He’s like a trained thoroughbred, responding to every shift in motion of the body riding him.

The vampire is whispering in his ear, his whiskey voice just another delight among many. “Lindsey, this is just how I imagined it. You’re exquisite. You look so good, wearing nothing but this jewelry. They’re so beautiful against your body. I love the way they feel in my hands, the way they jingle every time you breathe.” He does something with his hips that causes Lindsey’s eyelids to flutter. “If only you knew what you look like right now. Maybe we could do this in front of a mirror so you can see.”

“No…mirror,” Lindsey grinds out. “Want…to see…you.”

“Later.” The word is perfunctory and dismissive. His next gesture is not. Angel yanks Lindsey up so that he’s sitting on the demon’s lap. His back to Angel’s chest, he turns his head to steal a kiss. The exchange is sloppy, given their position, but Lindsey makes the most of it. He twines his tongue around Angel’s, sucking at the thin lips that pull at his own. Angel’s fingers play with the triple chains trembling with every breath, every heartbeat. His tugs get sharper, harder, speeding up by the second.

In spite of Lindsey’s weight straddling his thighs, Angel is starting to fuck him hard, the way they both like it, and the mortal’s breath erupts in harsh, jerky pants. When Angel starts jacking his cock, the sensory onslaught is almost too much. The handjob, the merciless nailing of his prostate, the tugging at his nips and the licks at his throat--Lindsey’s whole body is spasming, trying to follow the wild sensations coming at it from so many directions.

“Tell me how it feels, baby.” The words are a purr in his ear. No breath accompanies them but Lindsey shivers as though a cold breeze has swept over his skin.

“You’re…oh god, Angel…this is so good. You feel so good…inside me. Yes, that’s…oh just…fuck fuck…that spot…” Lindsey is usually much more articulate than this. But the answer appears to satisfy the vampire.

“You’re mine, Lindsey,” and the words are a basso growl. Vampires don’t breathe, don’t gasp for air, but the thrusting is now accompanied with animalistic grunts and snarls, the licks on his skin changing to edged bites. His eyes clenched shut, Lindsey brings up a hand to run it over Angel’s face. The ridges are pronounced marks of excitement under his fingers, a kind of Braille only he can read.

He brings Angel’s fangs down to this throat, arching it backwards in mute offering. The demon holds back. “Mine. Say it.”

“Yours,” Lindsey sobs. “Yes, yours, yours, yours, now give me…” In answer, Angel reaches forward and pulls at the makeshift curtain. It comes fluttering down, showing the captive demon on the other side of the bars. Lindsey has forgotten all about the other vampire. The sight of Spike now is a colossal shock. In his wanting, the demon has come forth. Yellow eyes pierce Lindsey and he sees the anguished pleading there. The engorged cock, trapped between the captive’s legs, is an ugly purple. Spike needs to come, as much as Lindsey does, and the mortal’s delight is an agonizing torture to the stricken blond.

Spike is no longer twisting in his bonds; perhaps he lacks the energy. But his body twitches in feeble spasms, caught by the buzzing toy that still torments him. Angel laughs softly as though Spike’s distress is the perfect accompaniment to Lindsey’s desire. Then he yanks off the chains.

Lindsey screams, certain that his nipples have been ripped from his body. Even as the shout reverberates around the chamber, Angel buries himself balls-deep in his ass and bites into the scar on the Southerner’s neck. The triple assault sends a blinding flare across the mortal’s vision, wiping out Spike and Angel alike. Ecstasy streaks in lightning bolts through his body. His hips snap once, twice, and cum races from his cock. The white spume jets through the bars, splattering the cage floor. It isn’t high enough to reach the vampire dangling from the roof but Spike’s eyes widen, a mewl spluttering from behind the gag. The chains binding his limbs are a tinny, jangly dissonance as he struggles like a madman against his bonds.

He wants to reach the two beyond the cage, whether to rip them limb from limb or join them in their ecstasy--with vampires, who can tell? It doesn’t matter. Lindsey is too far gone to care about Spike’s plight.

He seems to cum forever before finally sagging back into Angel’s grip. Angel cums moments after, the cool inside deeply welcome after the heat of coupling. The vampire licks the scar shut, his purrs of satiation rumbling against his tired partner’s skin. Angel cradles Lindsey’s body, gentle as always in the aftermath of passion. He was wrong at believing he is undone by the bite. It is this tenderness Angel shows afterwards that makes Lindsey feel he is unraveling, his soul leaving his body to twine with Angel’s. It is a ridiculous image, smacking of the cheap sentiment of the country singer. But isn’t that what Lindsey is, deep underneath his self-imposed hardened shell?

He pants hard, his sucking breaths loud in the subterranean room. In spite of the chilly air, his body is covered with a thin sheet of sweat. A tiny trickle of blood has made its way down his chest and Angel deftly scoops it up with one cum-soaked finger, expertly flicking at a nipple on the way. Lindsey’s breath catches at that slight touch.

“You see this, Spike? This lad is mine. Angelus may have liked to share. But I don’t want anyone taking what belongs to me. You hurt Lindsey again or touch him in any way that he doesn’t want and it’ll be worse than this for you.”

The threat is clear. All this--the clamps, the cage, Angel’s dominance, Spike’s agony, Lindsey’s pleasure--has been done deliberately as gift for him and punishment for Spike. This is the master vampire staking his claim and Lindsey is moved beyond measure. He winds one arm around Angel’s neck to bring him down for a torrid kiss, a silent gesture of gratitude. Another lesson, this time for a spectator, has been enacted here. Another one of Lindsey’s walls has been demolished as well.

He should be upset about this. He should be furious as hell for having been put on display for another. But Lindsey can’t see it that way. Angel has shown his care of him in the way that only vampires can--with complete dominance and passion to shake the soul.

The vampire eases back and Lindsey sighs as the massive meat slips from his ass. He is grateful when Angel begins dressing him. He’s too spent to move just yet and his lover has evidently sensed his fatigue. When both men are dressed and ready to go, Lindsey remembers the other participant in their little drama. “What about Spike? He’s still…” He waves vaguely at the vampire’s blood-darkened cock.

“What about him? Something like this won’t kill vampires. Although I don’t envy him the rest of the weekend.”

“Weekend? Angel, you can’t be serious!” There’s no way anyone can withstand torture like this for three whole days. This is too cruel, even for Spike. Angel shrugs on his coat. “Like I said, Lindsey, it won’t kill him. And it’ll teach him a lesson about touching my things.” He fishes in his pocket and brings out a small device. Pressing a button with his fingers, the buzzing inside the cage stops and Spike sags in his bonds. Angel grins as he fondles the remote. “I just love modern technology. We didn’t have anything like this in the 1800s.” He tosses it to Lindsey who catches it one-handed. “You can keep that, Lindsey. I’ve got a spare.”

He smirks at Spike, a hint of fang showing. “See you on Monday, Spike. You better hope I don’t change my mind and keep you here an extra day or two. You don’t show up for awhile and no one will miss you. Everybody knows how you like to disappear.” He gives Lindsey a bruising kiss and draws him from the chamber.

The mortal pockets the remote, thinking that he’s going to enjoy playing with it during the upcoming weekend…unless Angel keeps him too busy to remember it.

Damn, the man is evil. And Lindsey thinks he likes it.


Next up, an alternative ending to this chapter: Chained

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