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Some Kind of Deviant	By : CardDragonBall Category: Angel the Series > Slash - Male/Male > Angel(us)/Spike(William) > Angel(us)/Spike(William) Views: 4151 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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.

Chapter List
- 1-Some Kind of Deviant
- 2-2
- 1
- 2
Some Kind Of Deviant 2:

It wasn't that the gravel was uncomfortable. He'd been a lot more uncomfortable positions on vastly more uncomfortable surfaces (his brief hiatus in hell came to mind...) It was the principle of it. Here he was, the first vampire to ever get his soul back, Angel--protector of the people, helper of the helpless. Loser of the cup of Mountain Dew to Spike--bleached annoyance to all good heros of the universe.
His coat was getting ruined. He liked the coat. Yeah, so his life tended to leave him having to replace his clothes often, and yes he should probably develop slightly less sophisticated tastes so replacing his clothes all the time didn't leave him broke. But this was Spike that was ruining it. Because he was shoving Angel down into the gravel (which was probably ripping a thousand holes in his jacket) with his mouth doing distracting things to him. Kissing him.
Kissing him would not get his jacket fixed.
"Spike," he snarled again, shoved the blond off his chest far enough to see his face, that dazed half-drunk look and then the blue eyes cleared and Spike was giving him that look.
"Its the bloody coat again isn't it? You're the big cheese, get one of your lackey's to buy you a new one."
Spike's solution to things was--as always--not helpful. He shoved him back until he was sitting up and craned his head over his shoulder as far as he could go to see if any damage had been done. Spike took advantage of this distraction to get up off the ground, off him and look bored.
"Right then," Captain Peroxide said. "I'm off."
Spike was walking away from him. And it wouldn't really be a problem. On a scale of acceptable it was probably a great idea that Spike walked away. Things were definitely heading down the shady path that led to a reenactment of what happened the last time the two of them...
But he was here. He was suitably drunk, he was fucking depressed and he was willing to allow himself to do something he could brood over tomorrow. Spike was not going to walk away.
He ran into him, literally, barrelled into him and they went stumbling, landed against a door, the door broke, they fell inside--hey, how convenient empty building!--Spike hit the floor, grunted, Angel hit Spike and grabbed him by the shoulders. Pinned him down and kissed him again. Loved the taste of blood there. Loved the squirming of Spike under him as he fought to get his legs free and they ended up wrapped around him, hands sliding in his hair, and the mouth under his. Opening up so pretty like. Fighting him hard for dominance but under that--Spike was going to let him win.
Angel dragged his hands down Spike's chest, over his shirt, to his pants. Ripped at the belt, pulled it out and threw it to the side, then the pants, undid them, pushed them down, felt the lean hips lift to help him, Spike's gasp and his hands pulling at the jacket, ripping his shirt.
"You need to learn to be patient," Spike said. "You were never any good at foreplay."
"I was so," Angel snapped back. He held himself up on one arm and glared down at Spike who was wiggling the rest of the way out of his pants. "I am excellent at foreplay."
"No you aren't. And you never were." Spike didn't seem too concerned about it. He undid Angel's pants and pushed them down.
"You really need to shut up Spike." He kissed him again. So he wouldn't ruin the moment. Because Spike was excellent at that. Creating moments and then ruining them. The perfect little soul of romance wrapped up in an ADD-adled brain. It was no wonder Drusilla stayed with him so long. She liked things that made no sense.
They rubbed together, mouths sliding wetly together as their hips pressed together harder and Spike's fingers were dragging up his back, scratching him and thighs clenching around his hips. Spike moved his head back and grabbed at Angel's jacket, slipping his hands down into the pockets. The most interesting look on his face as he wrapped his hands around what he was looking for and pulled it out.
"You're the only vampire in the world with baby oil in his pocket," Spike said. With that look on his face like he was going to start cackling again, so Angel took the baby oil (which was a perfectly legitimate thing to have in his pocket) out of Spike's hand, kissed him. Spike sucked on his mouth as he spread his legs open (wasn't it strange how willing Spike was?) Angel squeezed the slippery oil on his fingers and wrapped his fist around his erection.
Wait. What about the soul thing. Was he going to loose his sou--This was Spike. Spike was incapable of making him happy, much less perfectly happy. His soul was fine.
"Peaches," Spike said, Hand slipping down his chest to his erection and grasping it tighter in his cold hand. No witty remark to follow up the use of that nickname he hated. Just the impatient pulling, Angel fell forward, almost landed on Spike with his full weight and felt himself being pulled into place. Long white legs around his hips tightening and he sank into Spike.
He sucked on Spike's neck when the vampire under him rolled his head back, wrapped his arm under the slim chest when his back arched and held onto him. Stayed still inside of him until Spike's fists beat against his back.
Impatient. Always impatient. He rocked his hips, slowly at first, building up a rhythm that made his stomach tie into knots, he shivered with every thrust into the hard body that gripped him and Spike was clawing his back. Wriggling under him, head rolling back and forth, legs clenching with every thrust and the most interesting little noises.
Angel liked his voice. Secret fetish. Always loved the accent.
He pressed his hand into the dirty floor and lifted himself up enough to see Spike's face. Let his other hand go down, curl around a pale hip and hold the lanky vampire in place as he moved his hips harder. Driving deeper, feeling the shiver and watched Spike's face as it mirrored his pleasure. Watched his hand go down between his legs. Long pale fingers wrapped around the blushing red erection. Furious movements of his arm as he jerked against his hand.
Faster now. Harder. Drove into Spike the way the bastard stabbed him. Felt the frown on his face. This little bastard had defeated him. This little bastard had Buffy.
The groans, his name in those groans, in that accent, as Spike rolled his head back and fucked his hand, begged for more of it with the absolute abandoned he did everything with. Fuck the consequences--Spike was under him and his legs were around him, pulling him in harder and deeper and begging for more with that voice.
Shameless.
Their hips slapped together as he ground his teeth together and moved harder, fucked harder, wanted more--now--and felt the shiver, the quiver, the shudder as Spike accepted all of him and yowled for more. One hand on his shoulder, in his hair, pulling him down.
Kissing again as he pounded into the slim body. Felt the unbearable tightness in every muscle of his body, his own quiver and then it broke and he sank his teeth into Spike's tongue, sucked the taste of him and felt the answering orgasm.
But he wasn't drunk anymore. It never did last for long. He licked his lips as he stared at Spike.
"This the part where you tell me to keep my mouth shut?" Spike asked. Licked his lips and they were bloody.
"Don't ruin it," Angel said. Spike just rolled his eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***
Angel: *pleased got to be on top*

Spike: What is it with you and blonds?

Angel: *shrug*

Spike: I think it demostrates a lack of imagination.

Angel: And the day I care what you think--No, I'll never care what you think.

Spike: And I'm bloody heartbroken about it.
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