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In Angel’s defense, he hadn’t intended to make an actual wish.
That was how those pesky vengeance demons got you. They made you trek across L.A. with a bunch of paperwork, annoyingly souled vampire in-tow, talking non-stop in the car ride over, only to disappear into the sewers when you got close. What good was it being CEO if you still had to do the wet work? It was lucky that Angel was trying to atone for uncountable, unspeakable crimes in his past; he didn’t think he could go down there in his Tom Fords otherwise.
“Could’ve warned me if we were going to go all Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, you know,” Spike groused from behind him. There was a faint splish of his boots trudging through yet another puddle. “Wish I’d brought a pair of galoshes.”
“Spike,” Angel winced, “In case you forgot, we’re chasing a demon whose entire power revolves around twisting your wishes to make them come true.”
“What, a bloke can’t even wish for a pair of waterproof boots these days?” Spike asked, mock-offended. “What’s next? Can’t say, ‘I wish McDonald’s would bring back that Szechuan Sauce from a few years ago’? Or what about, ‘I wish a big piano came out of the sky and flattened my big, ugly friend Angel here’?”
“No, you can’t say any of that,” Angel snapped, “And if you don’t stop, you’re going to be wishing you never came out of that stupid amulet.”
“Ooh, big scary CEO, come to put me in my place,” Spike said, self-satisfied smirk all over his stupid lips. “Sometimes I wish you’d take that stick out of your arse, have yourself a nice shag, and stop beating the rest of us over the head with it.”
“Spike,” warned Angel.
“Or maybe I should wish you were a young, fit little bird with a nice pair of tits. Give me something to look at while I’m following you around, you know?”
Angel felt a headache coming on. He knew perfect happiness came at cost of his soul, but he was beginning to wonder if sheer, unadulterated annoyance might not have similar consequences.
“But that might have cosmic ramifications I’m not ready for,” Spike conceded. “How about this—I wish it wasn’t so sodding sunny in southern fucking California all the time. I wish your pecker was a few centimeters shorter; thinner, too, while we’re at it. I wish that bloody palm tree wasn’t blocking the view from my flat, and I wish blood didn’t take on that refrigerator taste when you left it in there for too long, and I wish Buffy were here—”
Angel whirled on him. “And I wish I had an eager virgin cunt waiting for me in my bed, but we can’t all get what we want, can we?”
Spike slowed to a stop, but he wasn’t talking. He wasn’t even looking at him. In fact he was looking over Angel’s shoulder instead, eyes wide and mouth still parted.
Angel sighed. It was never a good sign when Spike stopped talking.
He turned around and took in the vengeance demon standing at the end of the pipe, one hand cocked on her hip. She smirked, finger curling like a monkey paw.
For chrissake.
Spike swore, “Oh, bollo—”
*
Angel woke up to someone grinding on his cock.
Normally this would have been a welcome feeling, though he wasn’t exactly in the habit of waking up with someone else in his bed. Normally, waking up to someone touching him through his sheets would raise a lot of questions, namely: who are you, how did you get in here, and didn’t he tell Harmony, "no groupies"?
But this wasn’t normal times. Angel had just processed the last words out of his mouth, and if he opened his eyes to some doe-eyed, virginal USC freshman he would probably... probably...
Probably call her a cab. Right. Physically restrain her if he had to. But not in sexy way, obviously. Just so she couldn’t hurt herself. Who knew what kind of side effects the spell could have—
“We may not be the breathing type, but I can tell when you’re awake, love.”
“Spike?”
“Normally takes more to have you cryin’ out my name,” Spike said, voice ragged. He was shirtless and straddling Angel’s hips, stomach rippling as he grinded against Angel’s hardening cock through the sheets. Angel moaned as his movements became more deliberate, focused on riding the increasingly visible line of his dick.
Angel valiantly tried to regain his composure, gathering just enough to push Spike off of him. Spike bounced at the foot of his bed, limbs sprawled and all hungry smiles. All he was wearing was a ratty pair of boxers, which showed a damp spot where he’d been grinding against him.
God. Had he—? No.
Angel shook his head. Focus!
Wish demon. Virgins. Stupid, sexy Spike.
Damn it.
“Spike, what the hell’s going on?”
“What’s going on is that stupid wish of yours worked,” Spike said, face flushed. He was rubbing his hands up and down Angel’s calves, which was extremely distracting, what with the way they got dangerously close to his thighs and other very interested parts. “Got a needy bleeding cunt in your bed like you wanted, right?”
“You’re barely one of those things,” Angel started to say. Spike’s neediness he could smell from a mile away, the arousal in the air so thick he could choke on it. A little different than usual, but then again, he hadn’t been so... intimate with Spike’s arousal for decades now. “Maybe two on your worst days.”
“Not a metaphor, you dick,” Spike said. His eyes flashed dangerously as he said it. Spike's hand toyed with the waistband of his boxers, tugging the fabric taut and revealing the clear outline of a cameltoe between his legs.
Angel made a sound like he’d been hit by a semi-truck.
There was obvious cleavage where Spike’s underwear met his crotch, the cloth catching in a fold where it’d normally cup his balls. He could see it move under the fabric as Spike ground into it, each movement scenting the air with further proof of his arousal.
“Thought you’d like that.” Spike grinned, looking pointedly at the erection tenting his sheets. “Wait ‘till you see the real thing.”
Spike made to tug down his boxers, and Angel knew he had to stop this before it got any further. If those pants came off, and he had to see Spike’s sodden... pussy, wetness caught in the light of the rising sun, all pink and soft and inviting...
Angel grabbed the other man’s wrist. “Spike. Wait,” he said, taking a deep breath. “It’s the curse making you feel this way. I don’t think we should...” He gestured lamely in the direction of Spike’s crotch. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”
“Well, that makes one of us,” Spike said, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, Angel. Don’t tell me you never wondered what it’d feel like on the other side.”
Sometimes, sure. Didn’t everyone wonder? You didn’t survive to be a 200-year-old vampire without developing a particularly creative sexual imagination. Human drugs, toys, and objects decidedly not meant to be used as toys could get you a decent ways, but that was only the tip of the demonic iceberg. Angel had heard about a demon venom that made you experience the orgasms of anyone in a twenty-meter radius as though they were your own. Those days he was more than willing enough to do the Monster Mash, co-worker and/or formerly evil, now-ensouled grandchilde be damned.
And if Angel really thought about it, the proposition in front of him was comparatively tame. Why shouldn’t he fuck Spike because he woke up with a different set of genitals and was under the effects of some sex spell?
Well. So there were at least two good reasons why.
Angel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “But you’re—you’re not—” he said, still trying to bargain with his incredibly distracting boner, “You’re not a virgin.”
“Not anymore,” Spike said, tongue flicking out to run along his top teeth. “Took care of that myself already. Think I might have been too rough the first time—want to check?” Angel’s nostrils flared at the trace scents of blood in the air. The image of Spike waking up hot and bothered, too horny to do anything but shove his fingers up his new pussy turned him on more than he wanted to admit.
Angel’s hand fell from Spike’s wrist. “We should check the vengance demon’s hideout first. See if we can’t find her amulet,” he murmured. His eyes lingered on the divots of Spike’s hips, his boxers hanging low and revealing the top of a smooth mound.
“Fuck first,” Spike growled, “Slay later.” And then he pushed Angel onto his back, slunk over his body like a panther, and kissed him.
*
The smell of Spike’s arousal was overwhelming, even moreso when Angel was kneeled at the edge of the bed between his legs. It was still the younger vampire’s scent, but... sweeter, stickier, like it’d been made into molasses. Spike tugged at his boxers with urgency, but Angel only batted away his hands, gripping him by the hips. He pressed a kiss to his pale thighs, taking his time as he lazily made his way towards the new space between Spike’s legs.
Spike was no virgin, nor was he a stranger to receiving... well, any kind of sex, really. But it still felt like it was a first time of sorts, and Angel was determined to make sure Spike enjoyed himself.
Using his hands to spread Spike’s thighs, Angel mouthed at the seam of his boxers, against the the damp fabric and the firm flesh underneath. He was sure that if he were living, he’d feel the heat radiating from Spike’s pussy.
Fuck. Angel shuddered. What he’d give to rub him through a pair of sheer panties, watching as the fabric dampened and clung to his folds.
Spike’s hand tangled in his hair impatiently. “Fuck, Angel. Don’t tell me this is your idea of pleasuring a lady,” he said, voice tight.
“What’s that?” Angel teased. “You’ve got a better idea?” He pulled his mouth away, fingers playing with Spike’s waistband.
“Need your soddin’ mouth on me, you bloody oa—oooh,” Spike gasped as his boxers went to his ankles, and the cool air of the room hit his pussy. It was just as beautiful as Angel had imagined—slick and swollen with arousal, stiff clit just poking out between his folds.
Hairless, too, which was surprising. Not that he minded.
“You’re so smooth,” Angel observed, thumb tracing along his outer lips. There was enough wetness that it was easy to gather it on his finger even out here, letting him glide around with minimal pressure. “You’ve been expecting someone down here?”
“It’s your fantasy, mate,” Spike said, trying to sound annoyed. The stutter in his voice gave him away, his fingers gripping the bedsheets so tight Angel thought they’d tear. “I just woke up like this.”
“Mm,” Angel agreed. With his two thumbs, he spread apart the other man’s pussy lips, watching, fascinated, at the slickness that had gathered there. Spike’s tight hole clenched around nothing, pulsed like it needed something inside it so badly. There was a waft of blood, too, the remains of a maidenhead that Spike had so selfishly taken for himself. All without asking if Angel might have wanted a turn.
Angel couldn’t wait a second longer. He dove into Spike’s cunt tongue-first, licking long stripes up his new hole and along his clit. Spike gasped, and the fist in his hair tightened.
“Bloody hell,” Spike cursed, thighs tensing under his hands.
Angel growled, feeling Spike’s wetness coat his nose, his mouth, his chin. He could smell the arousal, the blood, and that sweet mixture of anxiety and unfamiliar pleasure that virgins always smelled of. His tongue toyed at Spike’s entrance, prodding at the hole for entrance. He slipped in so easily, Spike’s muscles clenching around the intrusion as he gasped and bucked his hips.
Gods, but that pussy was so needy. Spike was so ready for him. The perfect cunt, just made to take his cock. Angel could have taken him right there in one thrust, buried himself to the hilt and fucked him into the mattress.
But not yet. Right now, he was going to make Spike come with his fingers and his mouth.
With his tongue laving at the younger vampire’s clit, Angel slid a finger into Spike’s wanting hole. It entered without resistance, and Spike gasped as Angel slowly worked the digit in and out, rocking against his g-spot. A second finger, and he could feel the greedy way Spike’s pussy squeezed around him, slick running down his wrist.
“I need more, Angel,” Spike ground out, like he was in physical pain. “Already done the whole fingering bit myself. Wanna feel your thick cock inside me.”
As though understanding it was needed, Angel’s dick twitched in his sweatpants. He was hard as a rock and already leaking. Still, he couldn’t let himself get distracted by Spike’s flattery.
“You slut,” Angel said. He took his mouth off of the other man’s pussy but didn’t stop pumping his fingers, watching the way Spike bit his lip to hold back a whine. “Couldn’t wait for a proper cock to fill you up, could you? Woke up with a pussy and had to shove the first thing you could find into it.”
He didn’t miss the way Spike whimpered at the degradation. “Oh god,” Spike moaned, “Angel, oh fuck.” His whole body tensed. It was only fair, considering how nicely he’d whined, that Angel made him cum with his lips locked around his clit.
Spike practically yelped as Angel took him into his mouth, sucking harder than he’d done before. Between that, the eye contact, and the faint graze of teeth against his clit, Spike gasped, “Fuck fuck fuck,” and clenched around his fingers as he came, thighs wrapped around his head with a strength that would have killed most men.
Angel worked him through his orgasm, feeling Spike writhe around him like a wild animal. He only stopped when Spike physically pushed him off of him, panting like a mad man and looking exceptionally disturbed.
Uh oh. Maybe the sex magic had worn off, and in his post-nut clarity, Spike had realized that this was a mistake after all.
“Angel, if your cock isn’t in this virgin cunt in the next thirty seconds, I might just tear it off and stick it in there myself,” Spike growled.
Angel laughed.
He let Spike drag him onto the bed, clever hands stripping him of his sweatpants and underthings at once and freeing his cock to hang from his pelvis, heavy and leaking. It had been so long since he’d done this, wanted someone so badly without all the terribly unexciting foreplay talk about souls and curses. Beneath him, Spike hooked his ankles around his hips, and he let Angel press wet kisses along his lips and neck, tonguing over the spots he might have once bitten.
“Oh, fuck me,” Spike swore, extricating his tongue from where he’d been trying to taste every inch of Angel’s mouth. “That’s a right good pussy I’ve got there.”
Angel rolled his eyes as Spike grinned. With a free hand, Angel guided the head of his cock to Spike’s entrance. He was still wet there, slippery with slick and saliva, and it would be so easy to slide into that tight, welcoming wetness. What was the phrase? Right—like a glove.
Spike’s legs tightened, pulling his hips in closer. He made no secret of where he thought Angel should put his prick, and Angel barely adjusted in time so that he slid wetly across Spike’s swollen clit instead.
“Angel—” Spike whined, playing at being a much younger, less experienced vampire. Angel wasn’t going to be fooled by some puppy-dog eyes and a pouting mouth.
“Tell me what you need,” Angel breathed. He ran the head of his cock against Spike’s clit again, letting him feel how heavy he was, how deep he could reach inside of him. “Tell me how much you need this cock.”
“Please,” Spike moaned. “Please fuck me, Angel. I need you inside me. ‘S been all I can think about, ever since I woke up with this unused twat. Need you so bad I can hardly think. Need you to split me open on your cock, need to be filled with your come.”
Fuck. Angel had forgotten just how persuasive Spike could be when he was begging.
With a groan, Angel slid forward into Spike’s pussy, feeling the tight channel stretch to accommodate him. He could hear every inch of the slow, wet thrust as he pushed himself in. Spike’s mouth went slack, eyes half-lidded as he lost himself in the sensation. “Oh god. Fuck, you’re so big. Yeah. Oh, fuck—”
Spike kept mumbling as Angel slowly thrust in and out of him, letting the other vampire adjust to his size. But then again, maybe he didn’t need to adjust—Spike was still speaking in coherent words, and as far as Angel concerned, that was a problem that had to be rectified.
“You like this, don’t you?” He grabbed a pale calf and hefted it over his shoulder, giving him a better angle to drive deeper. Spike moaned, unabashed pleasure etched in his face. “How long did you have this cunt before you decided to give it up? If I hadn’t been here, would you have jumped the first man that gave you a second glance?”
None of that was particularly relevant—it was the vengeance demon and the wish that Angel had stupidly made—but it made Spike clench around him all the harder, lips parted as Angel fucked him into the headboard.
He was rough—not necessarily rougher than usual, but less forgiving than he’d have been with an actually inexperienced partner—and it was just how Spike liked it. He howled like a cat in heat when Angel angled himself just right, cock pistoning in and out of him like he was a sleeve. Angel swore he could make out the bulge in Spike’s tight stomach as his cock filled him, subsiding as he dragged the shaft out only to slam back into him.
Head lolling, Spike mumbled something that Angel couldn’t quite catch. It wasn’t audible over the clap of their skin, but he thought the other man was trying to communicate something.
“What was that?” Angel asked, concerned, slowing his thrusts long enough to lean in closer.
Spike moaned, pushing back against Angel’s pelvis to chase his cock. “Harder,” he said softly. His voice came like it was punched out of him, tight with need. Angel’s dick twitched from inside of him. “Break me.”
Angel hesitated; he knew what Spike was capable of taking, but he wasn’t confident what he was comfortable dishing out. But another look at Spike’s sex-drunk expression, and he didn’t need to be asked twice. He flipped him onto his front, lined him up on all fours, and drove into him like an animal.
Spike wailed and whimpered as he took it from behind. His hands gripped Angel’s headboard for purchase—solid oak—and the whole thing shook like it was made of cheap plastic. With the hand that wasn’t bruising Spike’s waist, Angel slipped his fingers around his neck, applying just enough pressure that Spike wheezed. They didn’t have to breathe; that was just something Spike did.
Pressing Spike’s back against his chest, Angel ran his blunt, human teeth over Spike’s jawline as he continued to thrust into him. He could hear his little whimpers so much better from here, all the sweet noises that his boy made. He leaned in close, teeth nibbling at his ear.
“You always were such a slut. Ready to spread your legs for just about anyone,” Angel rasped. Holding him in place with a hand at Spike’s throat and cock in his cunt, he used his free hand to rub circles on the vampire’s clit. “Maybe I should let you stay like this, use you whenever I’m looking for a quick fuck. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I should let the whole office take a turn with this perfect pussy.”
Pressed against him like this, Angel could hear every quickening breath that caught in Spike’s throat, straining against his hand. Fuck. He didn’t know how much longer he could last like this. Spike was close to the edge, breath ragged and muscles spasming around him. “F-fuck...” Spike hissed under his breath, the expletive punctuated by the rhythmic pounding of Angel’s hips.
Angel licked his lips, spotting his opening. “Yeah? You got excited thinking about that, didn’t you? Thinking about all of your holes filled, being passed around the office like a toy. Your cunt always filled with come...” Distantly, Angel heard the sound of something cracking, like wood splintering, but he didn’t care.
“Oh, god. Oh god, oh god—” Spike keened.
“Come on. Be a good boy and come for me,” Angel growled into his ear, and Spike lasted about two seconds before clenching around Angel’s hard cock, body shuddering as he convulsed against his chest. With a few thrusts, Angel was spilling inside him, wringing out the last of their orgasms until it became painful.
Spike collapsed, boneless, falling forward into the bed as Angel groaned and slowly pulled out. He watched his own spend drip from Spike’s swollen pussy, and he felt the urge to rub it back in with his thumb.
“Mmm,” Spike hummed from where he was face-planted into the mattress. The bed was a wreck, Angel noticed for the first time. Half the sheets were no longer on the bed, and those that were were soaked through with various bodily fluids. The headboard had been split down the middle, and there was an odd wobbling to the frame that there hadn’t been before.
Angel sighed, bone tired, and collapsed next to Spike on the bed.
It was a moment before either of them spoke. What was there to say when one of you woke up with a pussy, and you fucked each others’ brains out about it?
“So,” Angel began awkwardly, “was it everything you expected?”
Spike turned to face him. Vampires didn’t have the same kind of circulation humans had, but there was a familiar post-sex glow about him. It was unfortunately, like so many other looks, extremely flattering on the man.
Spike chuckled. “You should give it a try sometime. Bet I could get you off twice with my tongue alone.” He gave a little waggle of his tongue for show, which Angel tried very hard not to run away with in his imagination.
“I think I’m done with wishes for the time being,” Angel said. “But we should probably track down that vengeance demon. You know, before someone tries to wish away rush hour traffic and causes a tear in the space-time continuum.”
Spike nodded in agreement. Neither of them moved to get out of the bed. Spike stretched like a cat, one arm out, the other splayed playfully just below his navel.
“You know, that bit of dirty talk about three holes at once got me thinking...”