sorry about your guitar (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cityphonelines) wrote2007-05-30 12:53 pm
cityphonelines) wrote2007-05-30 12:53 pm
Fic - Helter Skelter, S/A
Pairing: S/A
Rating: R
Timeline: Post ‘Not Fade Away’
Warning: Dark. Dubious!con. Disturbing imagery.
Disclaimer. Not mine. Theirs.
Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rakshathewolf, originally posted Oct. 2004 in Sickchicks
The black out curtains were always drawn, but the room was never dark. Spike wouldn’t let Angel hide in the dimness anymore. Nope, Spike made sure Angel was surrounded by light. Candlelight, match light, lamplight, chandelier light, it made no difference. And the bills didn’t matter; here they were, countries away from the canker sore that was Los Angeles, yet the checks had found their way through the post directly to them. Bound to Wolfram and Hart for all eternity, whether there was a building to work out of or not. Spike was amazed that Angel had actually put him on payroll in the first place.
Angel didn’t do much these days and it caused Spike to wonder just what Wolfram and Hart was paying the big man for exactly. Spike did his bit. Patrolling here and there, dispatching baddies when he came across them; but really, why were the Senior Partners continuing to fund their existence?
Spike carried the silver tray up to Angel’s room. He had refused to share a room with the older vampire, though they shared the bed frequently. He sat at the edge of the mattress, staring at the line of Angel’s back and watching the play of the candle flames dance on the walls. He leaned over and clicked on a bedside lamp.
Angel rolled over, leaving the comfort of looking at nothing to face Spike. “Why did you turn on the lamp?”
“The light helps me sort the pills out.”
“I’ve told you before, I’m not taking any of those. I can deal with the pain.” Angel sat up in the bed making sure the sheets were in place.
“And I told you before, they aren’t for you,” Spike said, tossing a handful of tiny colorful pills into his mouth and downing it with a gulp of blood. He noticed Angel arranging the sheets. “Bit late for modesty, don’t you think? See it all, in the bath,” the blonde vampire leaned forward and whispered suggestively, “in bed. Can’t be much I’ve missed.”
Angel let his true face out and growled, “I hate you, Spike.”
“That may be true, love, but you need me,” he paused to stroke his chin in thought, “Well, s’pose you could get yourself around somehow. I’d lend you my old wheelchair, but I left it at the mansion and well, that’s at the bottom a gaping crater, so I’m thinking it may not be in the best condition. Now, take your blood and drink it up like a good lil invalid.”
Angel took the proffered mug from the tray, drinking it down in one draught. He resisted the urge to lick his lips and instead wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He fiddled with thin film of blood at the rim of the mug, sliding his finger over it repeatedly. Spike watched the flex of Angel’s hands and grunted. With a burst of speed he grabbed Angel’s wrist, brought that hand up to his face and pulled the bloodied finger into his mouth.
He sucked the blood off and watched as the sheet tented. “‘M gonna fuck you now Angel, it’s been too long a while, don’t ya think?”
Angel just sat stiffly while Spike stood, walked to the base of the bed and removed the sheet. He saw the slight wobble in Spike’s balance and noted that the pills must have been taking hold. The younger vampire dazedly scrutinized every inch of skin laid out before him. Angel wondered if Spike’s pupils were dilated from the drugs or because of him.
“Oh, yeah,” Spike started, searching his duster pockets deliriously and pulling out a small box of matches, “gonna play with you a bit first, then I’m gonna take you raw, Angel. I’m gonna hurt you. Remember how you used to hurt me, when my back was broke in Sunnydale? You’re a wonderful teacher.”
Spike pulled his leather off, letting it drop to the floor, and crawled up from the foot of the bed. He stopped midway up and stroked the stump at his side. “Y’know Liam, some people would find your… predicament off putting, but, I find it rather attractive.” Spike stroked the scarred skin, “It’s lovely how that dragon bit one off at the knee and other off just under the knee. Variety.” Spike lit one of the matches and let the flame move over the amputation point of Angel’s right leg.
“Fuck you, Spike,” stilled vamped out and now snarling, refusing to wince under the pain of the fire.
Spike watched the skin blister with fascination. He shook his human face off and raked his glowing eyes over the helpless, prone figure before him. “Gonna leave my clothes on, too. Just unzip my denims, take m’self out and ease in. Rip you open a bit, let your blood soak into the sheets. And you know what, you’ll love it and you’ll scream for it, but best of all it’ll make you come and cry. Just like I used to.”
Rating: R
Timeline: Post ‘Not Fade Away’
Warning: Dark. Dubious!con. Disturbing imagery.
Disclaimer. Not mine. Theirs.
Written for
rakshathewolf, originally posted Oct. 2004 in SickchicksThe black out curtains were always drawn, but the room was never dark. Spike wouldn’t let Angel hide in the dimness anymore. Nope, Spike made sure Angel was surrounded by light. Candlelight, match light, lamplight, chandelier light, it made no difference. And the bills didn’t matter; here they were, countries away from the canker sore that was Los Angeles, yet the checks had found their way through the post directly to them. Bound to Wolfram and Hart for all eternity, whether there was a building to work out of or not. Spike was amazed that Angel had actually put him on payroll in the first place.
Angel didn’t do much these days and it caused Spike to wonder just what Wolfram and Hart was paying the big man for exactly. Spike did his bit. Patrolling here and there, dispatching baddies when he came across them; but really, why were the Senior Partners continuing to fund their existence?
Spike carried the silver tray up to Angel’s room. He had refused to share a room with the older vampire, though they shared the bed frequently. He sat at the edge of the mattress, staring at the line of Angel’s back and watching the play of the candle flames dance on the walls. He leaned over and clicked on a bedside lamp.
Angel rolled over, leaving the comfort of looking at nothing to face Spike. “Why did you turn on the lamp?”
“The light helps me sort the pills out.”
“I’ve told you before, I’m not taking any of those. I can deal with the pain.” Angel sat up in the bed making sure the sheets were in place.
“And I told you before, they aren’t for you,” Spike said, tossing a handful of tiny colorful pills into his mouth and downing it with a gulp of blood. He noticed Angel arranging the sheets. “Bit late for modesty, don’t you think? See it all, in the bath,” the blonde vampire leaned forward and whispered suggestively, “in bed. Can’t be much I’ve missed.”
Angel let his true face out and growled, “I hate you, Spike.”
“That may be true, love, but you need me,” he paused to stroke his chin in thought, “Well, s’pose you could get yourself around somehow. I’d lend you my old wheelchair, but I left it at the mansion and well, that’s at the bottom a gaping crater, so I’m thinking it may not be in the best condition. Now, take your blood and drink it up like a good lil invalid.”
Angel took the proffered mug from the tray, drinking it down in one draught. He resisted the urge to lick his lips and instead wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He fiddled with thin film of blood at the rim of the mug, sliding his finger over it repeatedly. Spike watched the flex of Angel’s hands and grunted. With a burst of speed he grabbed Angel’s wrist, brought that hand up to his face and pulled the bloodied finger into his mouth.
He sucked the blood off and watched as the sheet tented. “‘M gonna fuck you now Angel, it’s been too long a while, don’t ya think?”
Angel just sat stiffly while Spike stood, walked to the base of the bed and removed the sheet. He saw the slight wobble in Spike’s balance and noted that the pills must have been taking hold. The younger vampire dazedly scrutinized every inch of skin laid out before him. Angel wondered if Spike’s pupils were dilated from the drugs or because of him.
“Oh, yeah,” Spike started, searching his duster pockets deliriously and pulling out a small box of matches, “gonna play with you a bit first, then I’m gonna take you raw, Angel. I’m gonna hurt you. Remember how you used to hurt me, when my back was broke in Sunnydale? You’re a wonderful teacher.”
Spike pulled his leather off, letting it drop to the floor, and crawled up from the foot of the bed. He stopped midway up and stroked the stump at his side. “Y’know Liam, some people would find your… predicament off putting, but, I find it rather attractive.” Spike stroked the scarred skin, “It’s lovely how that dragon bit one off at the knee and other off just under the knee. Variety.” Spike lit one of the matches and let the flame move over the amputation point of Angel’s right leg.
“Fuck you, Spike,” stilled vamped out and now snarling, refusing to wince under the pain of the fire.
Spike watched the skin blister with fascination. He shook his human face off and raked his glowing eyes over the helpless, prone figure before him. “Gonna leave my clothes on, too. Just unzip my denims, take m’self out and ease in. Rip you open a bit, let your blood soak into the sheets. And you know what, you’ll love it and you’ll scream for it, but best of all it’ll make you come and cry. Just like I used to.”
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Whoa. That was *dark*.
Is it wrong that that put a grin on my face?