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Centrifugal Force
by Tami
1873, London
William ran out of the Underwood gala as he tore up the poem he had read to Cecily. It was a fool’s mistake to think that he could court her with the written word. He knew he was a bad poet, that his mother had merely humored him. But, to be told that he was beneath her was something that cut straight to his heart. William was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he wasn’t paying any attention to where he was going and ran into 2 women escorted by a large bulk of man, dropping the tatters of paper.
“Watch where you’re going!” William sobbed as he picked up the pieces.
He stood up and brushed past them. Angelus and Drusilla turned to watch him run off into the barn across the street. A frown creased the dark vampire’s handsome features as he watched the mortal. For a Victorian gentleman, the scamp was awfully rude.
“Maybe it’ll be the first drooling idiot that comes along?” Darla was suggesting.
“Yeah,” Angelus offhandedly agreed then gathered Darla to him and walked away saying, “Do you think she’ll find a good one?”
“I found you, didn’t I?” were the last words Drusilla heard from her Grand-mummy as she followed William.
When Angelus no longer felt his childe’s presence, he turned to see where she had gone. Her scent was in the air, but there was no sight of her.
“Where do you think she ran off to?” Angelus wondered aloud.
“Who knows with her? She probably saw a kitten that needed to be coddled or a shiny piece of tin,” Darla answered disinterestedly.
“You should give her more credit than that, luv. She has turned into quite an exceptional killer,” Angelus said in defense of his progeny. “I’ll go look for her and catch up with you.”
“Angelus, you shouldn’t be running off after her whenever she disappears. She’s been around for 13 years, she knows the rules by now,” Darla admonished.
“I won’t be long,” Angelus assured Darla as he kissed her on the cheek and followed Drusilla’s scent.
When he caught up with her in the barn, Angelus saw his childe bent over the body of the man they had just bumped into on the street. Drusilla was caressing his face and whispering nonsense to him, but his eyes were closed.
“What are you up to, baby-girl?” Angelus’ deep voice broke the silence.
She startled and turned to look at him. “I wanted him so I offered him something effulgent just as I had read in his aura. He’ll be so good, I saw it in my vision,” Drusilla said and then pouted. “But, I think I broke him. What did I do wrong?”
Angelus moved closer and bent down on one knee beside her. This was the first time he really looked at the boy. He looked to be 25, maybe a little older and had very beautiful features for a man. The high, sculpted cheekbones, the full pink lips, and there didn’t look to an ounce of fat on him.
“Very beautiful, princess. Are you sure you really want him to be your new brother?” Angelus asked as he gave the boy’s body a cursory glance.
“Yes, Daddy. Please!?” Drusilla begged.
Angelus sighed. He pulled the rapidly cooling body up and sank his fangs into Drusilla’s mark, obliterating it, and drank the last of the boy’s blood. As he siphoned the rich liquid, he felt an electrical shock pass through him. The feeling made him instantly hard and he tightened his hold on the boy, pulling him closer.
After closing the wound and feeding the weak human his own blood, Angelus gathered him up and carried him through the shadows to the local cemetery with Drusilla running behind him to catch up. As he filled in the last of the dirt, all that his mind registered was that the boy was his.
1900, China
Houses burned as the terrified villagers ran from the looters. Spike and Drusilla walked arm-in-arm through the violence, smiling and whispering to each other. They met Darla and Angelus – now Angel, the four of them forming a bizarre picture of calm amid the panic and terrified screams around them.
“So, where have you two been?” Darla asked, curious at their happy dispositions.
Drusilla smiled and turned to Spike and asked coyly, “May I tell?”
Spike smirked. “No need to be humble.”
Drusilla leaned closer to Darla and whispered, “My little Spike just killed himself a Slayer.”
As she giggled, Angel looked Spike up and down, his face expressionless. “Congratulations. I guess that makes you one of us.”
“Don't be so glum, mate!” Spike grinned. “The way you tell it, one Slayer snuffs it, another one rises. I figure there's a new Chosen One getting all chosen as we speak. I tell you what . . . when and if this new bird does show up; I'll give you first crack a ’er.”
After they left the heart of the Boxer Rebellion behind them, Angel reached over and pulled Spike against his side, just as Angelus would have done.
“You are quite a mess, my boy. What have I told you about committing clean kills?” Angel asked in his Sire-voice.
“Well, you haven’t been around as of late. I developed me own ways to kill, and it’s never the same way twice,” Spike answered.
Angel waved the girls on and pulled Spike into a dark alley. The electricity between them was palpable. Even after two years away from his boy, Angel still felt the charge between them. The heated look in Spike’s eyes must have meant he felt it too.
Grabbing the back of Spike’s long hair, Angel pulled him close and kissed him hard. When Spike opened his mouth on a moan, Angel delved inside the blonde’s mouth, licking traces of the Slayer’s blood off his boy’s tongue. By the time Angel pulled away, Spike was clawing his back and grinding against his crotch in renewed passion.
“We best catch up with the girls,” Angel said raggedly.
Spike whimpered in disappointment, pulled away from his Sire, and followed him.
1943, German Submarine in the Atlantic
Spike followed Angel through a hatch, whining, “Come on, when am I gonna get a turn?”
Angel was trying to read a manual for some device and half turned to Spike. “In about . . . never.”
Spike pouted and petulantly said, “I’m playin’ nice with the anchovies, like you asked.” He pointed to a sailor named O’Shea. “At least let me have a go at the wheel.”
“Pipe down. I’m trying to work,” Angel said through clenched teeth.
“Oh, ‘pipe down’. That official sailor talk, is it? Well, ahoy, mate-y. You can just swab my deck,” Spike said sarcastically with a mock salute to his Sire.
“Spike--” Angel ground out in warning.
“Captain,” Spike stated.
“What?” Angel looked confused at him.
“I want to be called captain,” Spike repeated. He turned to face the other sailors and grinned evilly. “I mean, hell, I did eat him.”
One of the sailors named Hodge stood angrily, but Lawson stopped him from going after Spike.
Angel grabbed hold of Spike’s jacket and frog-marched him toward the hatch. “Check the torpedoes before I stuff you in a tube and send you for a swim, Captain.” With that, he shoved him into the next room.
Before Angel could follow him, Lawson asked, “Are we going to have a situation, sir?”
Angel shook his head. “He’ll do what I tell him.”
The dark vampire followed his chide down the small hallway, but before Spike could enter the cramped torpedo room, Angel yanked him into another hatch and closed the door. Sliding into his demon so that he could see Spike more clearly, he growled.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing? I’m trying to get us out of here alive and you keep teasing the humans.”
“I’m bored,” Spike said petulantly.
“Then, maybe I should entertain you?” Angel suggested as he eyed Spike up and down.
He didn’t care much for the black hair that his childe was now sporting, but with the way his clothes fit his body, his boy was looking really good these days. He was still as lean and muscled as he remembered. When Angel leaned in and kissed Spike, the electricity sparked and flared between them just as it had the first time he touched William.
Oh, yeah. He was going to spend a lot of time entertaining himself and Spike until they reached land.
1997, Sunnydale
Angel was in his quiet apartment reading Les Misérables. As Liam he rarely read, preferring to drink and get laid. It wasn’t until Angelus and Darla slaughtered their way through Europe that he took up reading the different languages, more out of survival than anything. Along the way, he also managed to pick up 5 demonic languages.
Just then, an insistent knock interrupted him. Angel put the book down and stood up. He was surprised when he opened the door and saw Buffy’s puppy dog on the other side of the threshold. Knowing of the kid’s hatred for him, Angel felt no fault in assuming the kid had braved his fear to come kill him.
“Xander, to what do I owe the unpleasant sight of you at my door?” Angel asked impartially.
“We have a new Big Bad in town that even surpasses you,” Xander said excitedly.
Angel nodded. “Is that right? Well, I’m sure Buffy’s taking care of it as we speak.”
“Yeah, well, the thing is, he and his cronies are in the high school and have a bunch of hostages now that they can feed on. Giles told me to come get you to help,” Xander was starting to sound nervous the more he was around Angel.
Angel nodded again. He grabbed his duster and followed Xander out of the apartment. So, Spike was having a bit of fun. He knew his boy wasn’t the sit-still-and-wait type. It had been 52 years since he had last seen Spike. He had felt the pull of family all day, but hadn’t seen his childe yet. He also knew that if Spike was around, Drusilla was with him.
Once they were on the school grounds, Angel had to grab Xander’s shirt to keep the kid from falling when he stumbled over a dead body.
“You, ah, know a lot about this Spike guy, so, um . . . you got a plan?” Xander asked with only a hint of terror.
When Angel grabbed Xander by the throat, the kid choked out, “Good plan,” before Angel dragged him into the building. Inside, Spike was still poking holes into the ceiling. Angel swung the doors open and stumbled inside with his arm around Xander’s neck.
Spike turned to see what the noise was and saw his Sire. He grinned, showing off a mouthful of fangs. “Angelus!”
Angel tightened his hold on Xander’s neck and looked at his boy. Spike was ever the chameleon, changing his look every decade or so. Though in 1997, he looked like a 1980’s reject Billy Idol wannabe. But, damn he still looked good. Angel’s night vision took in the slicked-back white blonde hair, sharper cheekbones, the whipcord muscles visible through the thin cotton t-shirt. The sight made him hard.
“Spike!” Angel greeted through a mouthful of fangs.
“I’ll be damned!” Spike grinned. He tossed his pole aside and met his Sire in a hearty hug, laughing.
Angel pulled back but kept a heavy hand on his childe’s shoulder. He shook his head and commented, “I taught you to always guard your perimeter. Tsk, tsk, tsk. You should have someone out there.”
Spike sighed. “I did. I'm surrounded by idiots. What's new with you?”
“Everything,” Angel replied. God, he could still scent Spike’s arousal and knew the other vampire could scent his. Being so close to his childe again was maddening.
“Yeah. Come up against this Slayer yet?” Spike asked conversationally. His Sire was practically reeking of arousal. The pull was still there.
“She's cute. Not too bright though. I gave her the puppy dog 'I'm all tortured' act. It keeps her off my back when I feed!” Angel said, laughing.
Spike chortled. “People still fall for that Anne Rice routine. What a world!”
Angel was going to ask about Drusilla when Xander choked out, “I knew you were lying.” Angel squeezed Xander harder to shut him up and the boy squeaked, “Undead liar guy.”
Angel grabbed Xander by the hair and shirt and held up his exposed neck. “Want a bite before we kill her?”
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Okay, so it wasn’t the best thought-out ruse he’d ever come up with, and as things went right now, Spike had become smarter over the years than Angel gave him credit for. Angel looked up at his restraints, gauging their strength and his own to pull himself free. Drusilla was having the time of her life burning her bad, wicked Daddy with holy water as an amusement.
Then, there was Spike who just came in and Angel couldn’t help but taunt him. When he mentioned that he should give the blonde a few pointers in how to please Drusilla in bed, Spike grabbed him up by the throat and slammed him against the bedpost, and then threatened to stake him with a piece of the footboard.
Even though Drusilla had tortured him, he used the pain to his advantage like he always did. Angel tightened his hand on Spike’s wrist and used his all his strength to turn the tables on his childe. He forced the blonde around and bent him over the footboard. The moment his crotch brushed against Spike’s denim and leather covered ass, both vampires groaned. After 52 years and the spark was still there. That brief touch sent a frisson of electricity along his spine and down to his balls.
Angel leaned over Spike and whispered, “What has Daddy told you about doing things half-way, boy? First, you come into my town, try to kill my Slayer, kidnap me, let our little princess torture me, and then threaten to stake me. How is doing all that going to save Dru, hmmm?”
Spike was growling in reply to Angel’s dry-humping against his backside as he made his points. He clenched his teeth and said, “The Slayer was just for fun. A man needs to entertain himself somehow. As for killing you, there’s nothing I’d like more, but Dru needs you, and I’ll damn well make sure you take on some responsibility to this family, for once.”
“Responsibility? How many times have you thwarted my authority in the quest to be your own vampire, and you talk to me of responsibility?” Angel asked with a chilling laugh.
“I can take care of Dru on my own, have been for a hundred years, but she needs Sire’s blood to heal,” Spike said and then growled and bucked against Angel. “Get off me you big oaf!”
“Aw, do you really want me to get off you, Spike?” Angel asked and then ground his crotch against the blonde, “or get you off?”
“You thick-skulled Neanderthal, I wouldn’t fuck you! Your soul is a disease I want no part of. If I had sex with you, I’d probably contract it,” Spike growled.
The blonde vampire reached his foot back, hooked it behind Angel’s ankle and yanked forward, causing the older vampire to lose his balance. Angel grabbed Spike’s hips for leverage, but the action unbalanced the blonde and they both toppled over. Spike wriggled free of his Sire’s grasp, straddled his hips and started laying punches into him.
Angel effectively blocked the harder blows as he grabbed Spike’s wrists and yanked him down against his chest. “Do you feel that whenever we touch?” Angel asked.
“Yeah, wanker, I was feeling your flesh being tenderized under my fists, you bloody--” Spike started to say.
Angel cut him off. “No, not that, this,” Angel stressed and demonstrated by thrusting up against Spike. “You don’t feel that?”
“I feel your hard on, you sick fuck,” Spike said as he began to struggle against Angel to get free.
“Spike would you stop fighting me for one moment and just feel,” Angel ordered.
“I don’t feel a bleeding thing 'sides disgust that you’re trying to get off on me,” Spike lied with a sneer.
Angel sighed, let Spike go and got to his feet. “Never mind.”
1999, Los Angeles
Angel walked up to his car in the underground garage. As he reached for the door handle, a beam smashed into his head and sent him tumbling back against the wall.
Spike grinned around a mouthful of fangs at how good his aim was and said in greeting, “Angel! I believe you have something I’m looking for – a shiny, little bauble?”
Angel picked himself up off the ground and stared angrily at his childe. “Might as well go home, Spike. The gem of Amarra stays with me.”
Spike, in a petulant fit, swung at Angel with the board. Angel caught it, hit Spike across the chin, in the stomach, and then kicked him to the floor.
Spike staggered back to his feet, board still in hand. “Why, because you’re Angel, vamp detective now? What’s next, vampire cowboy? Vampire fireman? Oh, vampire ballerina.”
As Spike charged at Angel with the board, Angel quipped, “I do like to work with my legs.” He grabbed an overhead pipe and swung both feet into Spike’s chest, knocking the blonde on his back again.
Spike quickly picked himself back up and kept stabbing at Angel with the beam while Angel danced around him like a boxer, dodging the board. Spike tried to pin him onto the hood of the car, but Angel kicked him off, taking the beam away from him in the process.
Angel twirled the beam in his hands and circled Spike. “We duke it out, huh? Is this your big strategy to get the ring back?”
Spike attacked again. “Hey, I had a plan!”
Angel fended his childe off with the beam, then pinned him onto the car, “You? A plan?”
“A good plan,” Spike growled. “Smart. Carefully laid out. But, I got bored.”
“So have I, boy,” Angel growled near his ear. He bucked his hips against Spike’s ass and growled when he felt the electric shock again and instantly became hard.
Before Angel could savor the feeling, Spike hit him in the shin. When Angel let go of him, he turned and pinned the dark vampire up against the wall. “All that watching, waiting . . . my legs started to cramp.” He threw Angel face first up against the exit door. “Enough with the hit ’n’ quip. Just tell me were the damn ring is.”
Angel turned around in vampire visage, “It wouldn’t go with your outfit.” With that, he grabbed Spike and threw him over the car and into the wall.
2003, Los Angeles
Angel had felt the electrical charge again when ghost-Spike first attacked him only to jump through him. He tried to shake it off for the past few months knowing Spike would refuse to acknowledge it. But, when Spike went through him, it was a warm surge that ran through his body. Then, Spike started making appearances in his apartment and, most notably, his bedroom.
When Angel told him what it felt like, Spike thrust his hand out and it disappeared inside Angel’s chest. The electric surge went straight to his cock and he audibly groaned. After that, Spike only touched him to tease him. Then, the blonde became corporeal and refused to touch him unless it was in anger.
That was until Spike walked into his office one day and Angel was fed up with his taunts. The elder vampire grabbed his childe’s wrist and nearly slung him into the elevator that went to the penthouse. Spike hit the wall and once the doors were closed and the elevator moved, Angel was on him.
“A hundred years and you’ve tried to deny this feeling between us. I’m putting an end to it right now,” Angel growled.
He grabbed Spike around the waist, picked him up and held him against the wall. As Angel’s
mouth smashed against the full, pink lips, the blonde’s legs rose up and wrapped around him of their own accord.
Angel pulled back and stared at Spike. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel that.”
With his Sire’s mouth no longer covering his own, Spike moved to kiss and bite Angel’s neck. He clawed at the broad shoulders. God, they were massive shoulders. He’d missed them along with a lot of things about the great souled wonder that was his Sire.
“I’d probably feel it a lot better if you were inside me, git,” Spike groaned as Angel crushed their hips together.
Angel growled. His fingers were itching to touch his boy everywhere, claw him, mark him; make him feel this charge that was between them whenever they were close to each other. Instead, he resigned to unbuttoning Spike’s jeans and
trying to pull them off.
“Spike, you have to let go of me so I can get these off,” Angel moaned as he tried to concentrate.
“Don’t want to,” the blonde moaned as he sucked a bruise on his elder’s neck.
“Oh, God,” Angel groaned as he felt Spike’s blunt teeth scrape his neck. In his frustration, he tried yanking the jeans down but the blonde’s legs wrapped around him put a stop to that.
Just then, the elevator doors opened and Angel fell out of it and landed on his back on the floor. He growled and rolled Spike over on his back. Then, he sat up and proceeded to yank Spike’s jeans down to his ankles. Fucking clod-hopping son of a bitching boots were in the way. Fuck it.
Angel was set on releasing his own burgeoning erection and he was only half focused on Spike rolling over onto his hands and knees – Good boy – and crawling away. What? Wait a minute, get back here. Angel yanked his zipper down and knee-walked as fast as he could after Spike.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Angel’s voice held a hint of Sire-tone.
“To the bed,” Spike replied, still crawling away.
“Uh-uh, later,” Angel stated as he caught up with Spike and pulled the blonde back against him. He ground his opened fly against his childe’s bare ass and whispered huskily, “When was the last time you’ve been fucked good and proper, hmm?”
Spike groaned at the effect Angel’s words had on him. The tip of his cock was covered in pre-cum. It seemed he had been waiting forever for the tortured one to get rid of the guilt complex and stop being a bloody monk. “Forever and a day.”
Angel reached around and barely touched the leaking cock, making Spike yelp in pain.
“Oh, poor baby, would you like me to take care of that for you?” Angel teased as his hand slid lower to cup Spike’s tight sac.
Spike growled and thrust back against Angel in response. The dark vampire stroked his hand back up the length of his childe’s cock and collected the escaping juices. Then, he moved behind Spike and worked his fingers inside the tight ring of muscle as he listened to the gasps and low growls.
“Sorry for the little preparation, but I can’t wait,” Angel said impatiently before sliding his fingers out and replacing them with his hard dick in one thrust.
Spike yelled – thank God the penthouse was soundproof – and reached back to dig his nails into Angel’s thighs, ripping the black jeans that still covered his Sire’s hips. He grunted and whimpered as Angel gyrated against him, working his cock deeper. When he felt the other vampire’s balls brush up against his own, they both groaned.
“Now do you feel it?” Angel asked as he started thrusting into Spike.
“God, yeah. Angel . . . fuck me,” Spike groaned as he slammed back against his Sire.
At that request, Angel sped up his thrusts, pumping faster and harder into the blonde, clenching his fangs – when did he slip into his demon? – At the strain of the building orgasm and tightened his hold on Spike’s hips.
Running his hand up along the smooth line of his childe’s back, he clamped his fingers around the back of Spike’s neck and held him down against the floor, looming over the body that was eagerly taking his punishing thrusts.
In that moment, he felt the electricity rip through his body and roared his orgasm. Angel saw fireworks explode behind his tightly closed eyelids and forcefully pumped his hips against Spike as he came. His release triggered that of the younger vampire who gripped his thighs, pulling him closer and shot cum all over the Berber carpet.
Angel took a few moments to calm down, before saying gravelly, “I tried to tell you there was something between us.”
“Should have blown the bloody fuse box after that display,” Spike replied.
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