Author: Kat Lee
Character/Pairing: Spike/Angel, mentions of past Spike/Buffy and Angel/Buffy
Rating: Strong PG-13/T
Challenge/Prompt: nekid_spike: Spike's New Years Resolutions and faerie_wish13: January Challenge: New Year's
Word Count: 1,373
Date Written: 16 January 2018
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to Whedon, not the author, and are used without permission.
Author's Note: I know this is late -- sorry --, but at least I'm getting back to myself finally!!
He had promised himself he wouldn’t let him do this to him again. He was more than his past, and his past was behind him now. He had no reason to allow him underneath his skin, or crave him inside his pants, his skin against his, clothes being torn. He had no reason to want him not after everything he’d done to him.
But wasn’t that part of letting the past be the past? Spike wonders, knowing full well he’s trying to make yet another excuse for his behavior and the desire and anticipation building within him every time his eyes lock with Angel’s. The others are gone now. They’ve squirreled away about their personal lives, what little they have left of them anyway, and it’s only himself and the Great Poof left in the office.
He could walk out. He could turn his back on him and just walk away. He could save himself what he knows is going to happen. He could keep his bloody New Year’s resolution for once, the same resolution he’s made every year since being turned into a Vampire. He could finally stop letting Angel affect him.
But his groin is burning with a need that only one person has ever been able to satisfy. The embers of that fire have been stroking for hours higher within him until now they seem to have tied his tongue and even his mind into loops. He can’t stop thinking of Angel, can’t stop watching him, and yet he knows it’s wrong.
It’s wrong, because it’s just going to get him hurt again. Tomorrow night, Angel will pretend like nothing ever happened between them. Spike is his co-worker and the Vampire who was sired by the woman Angelus destroyed before he sired her, Spike’s dark Princess who never could keep all her attention on Spike or maintain all of his desire on her no matter how deeply he thought he loved her.
Maybe the world is right, he thinks. Maybe monsters aren’t capable of love. Maybe this is the closest thing he’ll ever know to love. Maybe Dru was; he was willing to save the world for her. Maybe Buffy was; he both gained his soul and died willingly all for her. Maybe Angel is. He’s the only one to whom he keeps coming back time and again. He could hunt the Slayer down; Hell, if he let her know he’s still alive, or alive again, she might even come after him. The problem is, Buffy’s not the one Spike wants when he’s burning like this nor is Dru. There’s only one person he wants, only one being who can meet him snarl for snarl, fang for fang, push for shove, only one person whose length has ever filled him or ever been able to take him for all he is, good and bad.
But he already knows how that same person rolls. He already knows what he’ll do tomorrow night, what he’s always done after they’ve been together. He’ll turn from him. He’ll pretend again he’s nothing to him. He’ll be nothing more than more filth of his past from which Angel tries every moment to distance himself. He’ll be a memory he wants to forget, a villain, just another Vampire who can never be the original Vamp with a soul.
He wants to shout at him. He wants to curse him. He wants to stride across this room, grab him by the neck, and slam his mouth down onto his and tongue inside of his warm, moist contours. He wants to eat him and be devoured by him. He wants to fill him and have Angel fill him as only he has ever been able to do.
He wants to remind him that he is more than a shadow of the past, that he is more than what he made him, that he didn’t go after his soul to be like him but that he did go after his soul. He wasn’t cursed with it. He was tortured for it, and he endured that torture willingly. He lost his mind, lost himself, but now he’s back.
He’s back, and he knows what he wants, and he knows it’s no more healthy an obsession than the love he’d felt for the Slayer. Does he just go after the wrong people, the beings who are most likely to kill him? Is that what it is about them that makes Spike want them so badly, that he knows he can never satisfy them, he can never be loved or even genuinely, completely wanted by them? Is he that sick a son-of-a-bitch that, after all these centuries, he still wants what he can not have because he can not have it?!
Yes. Spike starts to groan aloud, but Angel finally moves from the window. He pours himself a second cup of blood, and this time, when his eyes lock with Spike’s, Spike knows he’s going to speak. Despite himself, despite everything they’ve both endured and all that’s gone down between them, he feels himself rising with full attention as Angel’s mouth opens. “You know,” he says, turning partially back into the shadows, “I actually made a resolution this year.”
“You?” Spike barks with laughter, but it sounds hoarse and fake even to his ears. “What lie did you promise yourself? That you’re going to let go of the past?”
“No.” He throws the blood back with a single toss of his handsome, dark head. “That I’m going to stop running. I’m going to let myself have what I want.” He sets the glass back down and starts to turn back to Spike.
“Yeah, right -- “ Spike scoff, but his next word freezes in his throat and is abruptly, painfully swallowed as their eyes lock again.
“What I want, Spike, is you.”
He should tell him to sod off. He should walk out of here, out of his life, and never stop to look back. He should go find Buffy, who he fell for in the first place because Angel had convinced himself he loved her. The Slayer’s safer than standing with this maniac.
And yet . . . Yet Spike already knows he’s not going to do any of these things. Angel may be crazy, but so is he. He made the one who made him after all, and he did more than that. He’s helped to carve him into the man he is even now. Yeah, maybe a little part of him did go after his soul because he wanted to be more like Angel. It wasn’t because he wanted Buffy to love him. He’s never been crazy enough to believe that anybody could ever truly, genuinely, fully love him, not since he was turned, not since he turned his mother and was awakened to the harsh reality that even she didn’t love him.
Spike stands, caught in uncertainty, but it’s Angel who makes the move, Angel who strides across his office, Angel who grabs him by his jacket and yanks his mouth down on his, Angel who gives of himself tonight and Spike who takes so readily. Normally, it’s Angel demanding everything he has and Spike giving everything he possesses and still coming up short.
But tonight, Angel gives him all he has, and when at last he lays still in his arms, Spike thinks that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow night will be different. Maybe he finally won’t run. Maybe he’ll still look at him the same way when there are others to witness what happens between them. Maybe he will love him.
Yeah, right. He may be a monster, and he may be a monster now with a soul, but he will never be loved. Silent tears track down Spike’s cold, still face as he starts another year right where he’s always belonged, in the arms of the man who will never recognize that he is the better half of him, the man who will never recognize Spike as his other half. Angel stirs from his sleep and kisses the tears from Spike’s face, but even as they embrace again, Spike knows the truth. It may be 2018, but it’s just another year where he’s as damned as he ever was.