Angel's fucked the skinny bint on the couch and Spike would've known even if he hadn't seen the two of 'em going at in on Halloween. Thing reeks of sex and Angelus. Angel. Don't matter – they smell the same to Spike. He likes sitting on that fucking ugly couch, scent of new leather and old love filling his nostrils. Angelus, yeah. They've had sex on the couch couple times already, necro-filtered sunlight making it honeymoon sweet for them all over again. Angel's had the watcher here, too. Wesley, not Giles. Though, Spike's not too sure 'bout what Angel's done with Giles. Not really too interested, either. Rupert's all right, but Wesley's got a little more ... He's just got a little more, as far as Spike's concerned. He's also got a scowl big enough to take in all of LA on his face when he walks into Angel's office and finds Spike instead of the ponce in there.
"Spike. That's right, you are accustomed to simply walk into Angel's office and ..." Wesley frowns even harder. If possible. "Sit around? Smoke?"
"Well.. yeah. Same as you, minus the smoking." Spike offers the smoke to Wesley, though he knows he's only gonna get another frown. Wesley shuffles a few papers and folders on Angel's desk, silently, and Spike swears he can feel the frowning radiating from Wesley as he finishes the cigarette. "He ain't coming back soon. Some meeting."
"Oh?" Wesley doesn’t turn around until he's done doing the filing or some other crap. When he does, that friendly frown is still there. "A meeting? With whom?"
"Beats me. Something... demony. Tall. Not sure. He didn't actually tell me. I just happened to be listening." Another little look comes over Wesley's face as Spike talks. "What? We weren't post-coital. This time."
Watcher flinches at that one. He caught Spike and Angel slumped over the desk once, blood and come and ripped clothing all over the blotter. Spike had laughed, cause it made Angel hard all over again when Wesley's eyes took in the scene and he didn't leave for a long time. Long time. Long enough to get himself sucked off and taken upstairs to Angel's flat while Spike went in search of booze and cigs. That was a good evening. Lots of sex, lots of liquor.
"Ah, well. Right. Will Angel be back very late?" Wesley looks like he's hesitating, but his eyes wander over Spike's body and the tip of his tongue just about touches his lower lip. Like he's not sure, but he thinks he can taste something there. "Should I wait for him?"
"No reason to do that. Think we can get started and he'll join us eventually." This time, Spike offers Wesley a half smile, holding his arm to get Wes to join him on the couch. Couple years ago, he would've expected watcher boy to run off, or hide behind Angel. How long's he been Angel's pet, anyway? Four years? Five? Fuck, don't matter. Angel can keep him for all Spike cares. He gets as much of Angel as he wants, and Angel has no problem sharing the pet as long as Spike doesn't drink him. And he won't.
Not that it isn't tempting. Especially when he does that tongue-thing again. Slayer used to do a tongue-thing, too. But Wesley does it better. No wonder Angel moved on...
Pretty soon there's a hand thing going on, warm hands moving up Spike's thighs as Wesley kneels down in front of the couch, rubbing up and down and then slim, careful fingers working the button and fly open on Spike's jeans. Oh, yeah, Angel's got him trained well... Spike arches his hips, spreads his legs, makes enough room for Wesley to get in nice and close. Warm, wet mouth surrounding his cock, teeth scraping over it and those little noises Wesley made as he sucked away at it. Spike wants to arch up a bit higher, fuck Wesley's mouth good and hard, but he doesn’t have to, cause bloody fucking yes... head boy all right, knows how to suck just right, just hard enough, and then he swallows Spike down as far as he can.
Doesn't take long after that. There's a lot of scrabbling at the leather couch, and Spike shouts something really loud and hoarse and comes with his fingers digging into Wesley's shoulders. He doesn't melt into the couch, not just yet, not until he's pulled Wes up onto it next to him. Leaning in, Spike licks the come off Wesley's wet, pink lips, then nips gently. Leaves a little red mark, but just a little one. Angel's the one who does the biting, but he'll let Spike get a taste. Later on.
"Stay?" Spike doesn't bother for Wesley to answer; he's already working the buttons on Wesley's shirt open.
"I think I shall... only the beginning of a very good evening, I think."
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