Summary:Angelus wants some ripe plump nuns
Betaed by redeem147
Fine silk based gowns covered the two young women chained up on the floor. Spike wondered if he could grab one and give it to Drusilla. She did crave fine silk. One of the women was sporting a heavy bruise over her eye, coloring ever so slightly as he waited while Angelus went to get their companions. Darla and Dru hadn't been home when they got here. Spike was tapping the table with one finger, slightly annoyed with the smell of tears dropping down from one of the women's cheeks. She'd been whining and screaming before, till he'd forced a gag through her lips. The whining had gotten boring in very short order.
The door burst open and Angelus stormed into the room. Rage in his eyes, his lips tense and forbidding. Spike unintentionally shook back a few inches, trying to avoid the old badger's wrath.
"They're ... busy. Probably trying to find some other mongrel to share their bed with."
Angelus had been in a tizzy ever since their meeting with Him. The Immortal. Foul creature as he was. When Angelus turned to him, Spike quickly brought his attention to the scarf he was holding. Soft, gentle...
He rose up furious when he saw Angelus grab one of the woman; forcing his fangs into her neck and tearing the vein apart in his need to drink.
"Hey that's Drusilla's!"
Angelus just smirked and ignored him, continuing to feed. The woman's breast rose one last time before her eyes closed forever. The second woman started shaking. Spike grabbed her out of the way before the damn bastard stole her as well. They were Dru's, not for that....
"We're out of here Spike; leave the mongrel."
"It's..." He quickly stopped himself, realizing that the Irishman had actually used his new name.
Angelus got up, wiping the last remains of blood from his lips, tasting it like a connoisseur.
"Virgins weren't they?"
"I think boyo, I'm sorry,... Spike, we need to find us some real nuns. These ones aren't quite... ripe."
Real? Spike shot up, wanting to protest.
"But I promised..."
"The hell with Dru, may Darla go suck down the master and fill his batlips with rabies." He kicked the corpse, it slid over the floor, leaving a mark of dark red on the carpet.
"I'm tired of this endless waiting for them to return with their giggling and laughing and the staring and pointing. Comparing us is what they are. She has no respect for me, no..."
His accent grew heavier with every single word, as did his rage.
Spike of course had absolutely no intention of going off with his sire alone. The last time had been... painful. And humiliating.
Some men might enjoy... that. But he most definitely was not that kind of man. No matter how much Angelus liked to prod him about shedding those least vestures of civilized society.
Well that and being thrown into the wall, getting your pants dragged down and having that big stick shoved inside your ass hurt. Much.
Even if Angelus had tried to open him up first.
Besides, he'd had to suffer from weeks of Drusilla's pouting afterwards. Hearing her mutter on and on about how only Darla would pay her any attention. That he rather spent his time slaughtering and doing other things with Angelus. He'd brought her gowns and little boys to make up for it. But she kept smelling her sire on him.
Calling out dear old daddies name in the ... most inappropriate moment...
"Come on lad, we're off to hunt us some nuns."
Angelus started heading for the door. Spike wanted to refuse, but it was clear that Angelus wouldn't let him. Not with that look in his eyes. Not when he... So the younger vampire quickly grabbed his coat and followed his grandsire out in the streets.
Angelus was sniffing the air. Tracking down the scent of bound righteousness, he said.
Whatever would give him pleasure, Spike reckoned. And as long as it wasn't him.
They ran on, up to the streets... yet still they hadn't found even a single nun in this godforsaken city. Not in the parks, not in the streets, not even at the church where they usually flocked like pigeons. Too cold, too abandonned. And Spike had no idea how to speak the language that he could just ask for any of the cloisters. Even if Angelus had stood down still, long enough for him to find any.
Finding the novices coming out of church earlier had been nothing more than a stroke of luck. Finding any more nuns...
"It's time those women learn that I don't hang on their every word. That there's other fish in the seas than their misbegotten holes." And the Irish got worse and worse. Spike could barely understand a single one of Angelus' words.
If this kept heading where it looked it was heading, he was seriously thinking of ...
Angelus grabbed his back, pulling him towards him and nuzzling the nape of his neck.
"You wouldn't leave me for some big lump of manhood, would you Spike. Head off into the woods with some duke, ready to suck him dry bottom and top."
Spike tried to wriggle out of his grip, smelling the intoxicating scent of bourbon on his grandsire's breath.
"And Drusilla, head in the sky or up in some nobleman's lap. Writhing for him, with fake naivety."
Spike winced under his grandsire's words.
Angelus hands moved down. Spike could feel the fingers link to his pants. He closed his eyes, remembering all too well the many late nights that his sire had left him to go on trips with Darla. Leaving him under Angelus' leering eyes. The ones that Spike had been trying to avoid for weeks ever since the man had gotten his first taste of him.
Spike's muscles went slack. Tired of resisting, tired of fighting it. If this was what Angelus wanted, if it got Drusilla to drape herself over him to get the smell of Angelus out of him, then it was better than spending the night alone with his hand.
Angelus cold lips lingered over his neck, his teeth dragging in the cotton of his shirt.
"Smart boy. This'll hurt so much less if you just go along with it."
Spike somehow severely doubted it.
They were standing in the shadows of the church's portals and Spike couldn't help but feel the pangs of excitement as Angelus kissed his neck right in front of the house of God. Even if it were a catholic church. The sheer blasphemy of it was as exiting as it were terrifying. Part of Spike couldn't help wait for lightening to strike them down for this insult.
Spike moaned as Angelus fingers slipped into his pants, in between the undergarments.
"You wear too much fabric, boy."
And for a moment as Angelus fingers slid in between his ass cheeks, Spike couldn't help but agree.
His pants went down to his knees and Spike stood there, struck silent, not sure how to behave. No longer a blushing virgin, but not much more than that either. Angelus fingers slid into him, so much he was going to burst. Barely a bit of spit to ... Spike winced as cold bourbon was smeared into him, burning. The stench as Angelus' mixed the booze with his blood. Just standing there, wanting to sink through his legs but taking it, letting his grandsire's balls brush against his ass while Angelus forced into him. Rubbing as he started to pull out and in and out...Spike just moved back with him. Not wanting to be filled, not wanting to be empty and dragged along like honey on an beekeeper's stick.
And all along, Spike would breathe Drusilla's name through the shallow edges of his brain.
For her, to make her remember him, he thought.
Angelus just laughed at him. Leaving him standing there, his pants still down just as the priest came out of the church, checking out the sound. Spike just glared at him, noticing his disapproval just for a second. Like the old vicar finding him with his hands in the cookie jar when he was a boy. Made him feel like waiting for a spanking.
Dru more than obliged him the following night.
LJ user name: itsabigrock
Email Address: email@example.com
Pairing(s) requested: Angelus/Spike (main), any others as background are fine.
Slash requested: Yes
Time Period Requested: 1890's (post The GIrl in Question)
Include Minor Aurelian Characters: No preference, mentioning of Penn is fine
Three things you would like in your fic: A/S getting together to spite the girls, Drusilla pouting that only Darla will pay her any attention, Angelus unable to find any nuns.
Two things you would prefer not to see: Rape of a human, allusions to William or Liam
Tone: Smutty comedy is fun, moody is also fun.
Rating Preference: R-NC-17