Birthday! And fic: Moriaphilia. Spike/Angel. PG-13.
Heeee!! I'm having a great day! You guys are the best!
Ok, it started out badly with waking up from a nightmare around 6 and not being able to fall asleep again, then coughing so much I threw up in the sink. But after that? New SPN episode. Birthday e-mail from Supernatural: Seek The Truth (Huh?). Birthday e-mail from newly refound friend in Norway. Birthday present from dad (necklace, earrings, bracelet). Birthday greetings at work. Flowers and fancy pansy coffee and almond croissant from co-worker. Birthday card from miss_c667. Picture and some strange pearl art from daughter. Still not sure what it's supposed to be. lol And lots of birthday greetings from you guys! Including pics and balloons and flowers and porn. Yay!
I was going to give you another chapter of The Fire Within as my own birthday present but I have no time to reply to feedback for ch.3 right now and I'd hate to fall behind on that, especially since you've been giving me such lovely comments.
Instead I give you another Fetish Fic. Not much sex but there's drunken Angel and jokes!
The prompt was Spike/Anyone but Andrew for hellziggy with the fetish:
Moriaphilia: Arousal from telling sexual jokes
He knew this had been a bad idea. Seriously, this had to be the worst idea ever in the history of bad ideas. Beyond not having Spike thrown out the minute he turned corporeal, beyond allowing him to steal blood from his fridge and booze from his liquor cabinet. And far beyond telling him that he could crash on the couch since, now that he had a body, he had to rest it somewhere. It was only because the cleaning ladies kept getting freaked out by finding him asleep in Angel's office, jumping up to grab their throats when they came too close.
All of that could be explained by the fact that no matter who Angel was dealing with, he was a nice guy and he helped the helpless, hopeless, whatever, even when they were annoying and insolent and, most importantly, Spike
But there was no way to explain why he'd said yes to having a drink or two with the annoying thing in question, to reminisce about the old days or whatever it was again. 'Lighten up his broody self', that was it. Didn't explain why now, two bottles of JD and half a pack of Marlboros later, he was still sitting here, feeling anything but light, watching Spike ignore him in favour of the blond bimbo currently perched on his thigh.
What kind of date, erm... night out, was this anyway when he was being left alone to brood all by himself while Spike whored his way to another free drink? Just look at him, running his fingers lightly over the bitch's neck as he whispered some filth into her ear.
Gritting his teeth Angel grabbed the bottle again, dismissing once again the glass beside it, and took a big gulp of the golden liquid. The burning sensation as it ran down his throat had long ago been reduced to a numb tickle and he wondered if his vampire stamina was kicking up again because he didn't feel drunk at all. Not even the tiniest bit of...
He blinked. Okay, maybe some dizziness. And his nose felt kinda numb. He had a short moment of panic, thinking he'd lost it again but then he remembered that he wasn't a puppet anymore and the fact that it was big enough that he could easily see it without even crossing his eyes made him feel kinda stupid. And even more dizzy as his eyes crossed anyway, trying to focus on a tiny dark speck disturbing his vision. He waved his hand irritated and brushed the tiny shell of peanut off his nose before resuming his stare at the slutty blondes.
Didn't these places have rules? Like, no fucking in public, rule? He looked around bleary eyed, taking in the stage and the lights and the long legs swinging around the pole. Oh yeah, right. They were at a strip club. How did he end up at a strip club? With Spike? And why was there no blond bimbo on his lap?
Sniffling in sudden self-pity Angel shuffled closer to tell Spike he was leaving, or that he really needed to throw up, he wasn't sure which. He had his hand already reached out to swat Spike's stupid head when he caught the sound of his subdued voice, whispering in the wench's ear.
“So the counsellor turns to the husband and says ,'That is what your wife needs at least three times a week. Can you do that?' And the husband thinks for a moment and replies, 'Well, I can get her here Monday and Wednesday, but Friday I play golf.'”
She giggled, her bony shoulder shaking and her boobs wobbling like jelly. Angel frowned as his pants became considerably tighter. Her laugh was incredibly annoying and he could practically smell the silicon in her tits. Just thinking about her naked was enough to kill what little interest little Liam was showing. So where had that interest come from in the first place?
“Tell me another one. Come on.”
Spike smiled into her hair and ran one hand down to her crotch, the other disappearing under her blouse. Angel decided he'd had enough and was just about to say to hell with it and turn around and leave them when the low voice started again, a hoarse sexy whisper that made his cock twitch like a very confused snake.
“All right then, luv. Just one more. So this bloke walks into a bar and orders 9 shots of tequila. The bartender pours the shots and the man downs one after the other, not even stopping to breathe.”
Spike paused and then his eyes suddenly shot over at Angel, dark like deep blue pits of... blue pits something. He sucked in his breath and Spike winked - winked! - at him. The snake started doing the mambo in his pants and he glared at the bottle of JD in his hand, wondering what the hell Spike obviously had drugged him with. Spike snorted and turned his attention back to the girl who was practically purring and rubbing against his hand.
“Right, where was I? Oh yeah. 'Bloody hell!' the bartender exclaims 'Never seen anyone drink tequila that fast before - what's the occasion?' 'My first blow job,' says the man.”
Whiskey splattered on the table as Angel choked on the last drop. Spike didn't look back at him but his shoulders shook slightly before he continued.
“'Well' the bartender replies 'That's quite something. Let me buy you another!' And the bloke looks up at him and says, 'Listen, no offense, mate, but if nine's not enough to take the bloody taste out of my mouth, I doubt another one'll help.'”
“Oh God! You're so awful! Eeww!!”
The girl looked as if she was about to gag and Spike frowned.
“Eeww? Luv, if even thinking of a blowjob gives you that face you're obviously not in the right place. Or...” Spike raised his eyebrow at her, “...sitting on the right lap.”
She snorted, a sound that Angel found even more irritating than her previous giggles, and rolled her eyes. “No, silly. God, I love blowjobs!” She fluttered her eyelashes but Spike only raised his eyebrow further, waiting for her explanation. “I just... I mean... well, it's yucky. You know, two guys, doing that. Fucking homos.”
Angel thought he'd never heard such a satisfactory sound as the yelp when the bimbo's ass hit the floor. She sat there, eyes wide as saucers, before struggling to her feet to stand on ten-inch heels, glaring down at Spike. “What the fuck did you do that for? What's wrong with you?”
“Wrong?” Spike hardly even bothered glancing at her. “Nothing wrong with me that a blowjob can't fix.”
“Well, jeez! All you had to do was ask!”
“Oh, not from you, bitch. I've put my dick in a lot of filth but I draw the line at bigots. Beside, my boyfriend over here is so much better at it than you will ever be. Ain't that right, Angel?” Spike raised his eyes and smiled lovingly at Angel who at just that moment was wondering when he'd left LA and entered The Twilight Zone. “Baby?”
Angel stared at him. Then he looked up and stared at the girl who was spluttering obscenities and wiping her mouth as if she'd been licking an ashtray and not kissing Spike a few minutes earlier. His eyes slowly went back to Spike who was watching him, a tentative smile on his lips. This was the part where he was supposed to say 'What the fuck are you doing?' or possibly 'You are totally dead' but when he opened his mouth what he heard was, “Best cocksucker on this side of the Atlantic, darling, that's me.”
Spike's eyes widened in shock and he stayed frozen for a second but then his face split in a grin and he reached out to curl a hand behind Angel's neck, drawing him in until their foreheads touched. “This side and the other, luv. Your mouth could melt mountains.”
They gazed into each others eyes, licking their lips, and with a loud 'Eurgh!' the slut swung around and stalked off, swinging her hips so hard it was a wonder she stayed upright at all.
They waited until she was far enough away and then Spike pulled back, practically doubling over with laughter.
“Oh. My. God! That was bloody priceless! That was... Sodding hell! I take back every thing I've said about you being a stuffy old pompous arse. This... You've redeemed yourself. Completely!” Spike wiped his eyes, blinking as he tried to calm down. “Best cocksucker! And with the 'darling'!” He shook his head, shoulders still shaking in amusement. “Christ though, you should have seen your face right before you got it. I thought you were gonna have a bloody heart attack!”
“Got it? Got what?”
Spike's laughing fit stopped short and he stared at Angel. “What? The joke, mate! The spoof. How bloody drunk are you?”
Angel pouted. Then he remembered he didn't pout and tried to look stern instead. He wasn't sure it was working. “I wasn't joking. And I'm not drunk. Okay, I'm a bit drunk but...” He waved his hand dismissively. “Doesn't matter. What matters is... Hell, Spike, who taught you all you know?”
Now it was Spike's turn to splutter his drink all over the table. “Wha... What did you just say?”
“Fuck, you were lousy at it. Worst cocksucker ever. Don't tell me you've forgotten. I taught you to hunt, I taught you to fight, I taught you how to suck my cock like a goddamn pro. All me. Ha!”
Spike just stared at him and then he slowly shook his head. “Okay, I think you've had enough. Bed time for you, pet.”
Angel frowned but then he nodded solemnly. “Yeah. Yes. You’re right.” He got slowly to his feet, waited for the carousel he suddenly seemed to be riding to stop spinning, and then reached out to grab Spike’s hand. “Bed’s much better.”
“Better?” Spike was suddenly by his side, arm around Angel’s waist and the floor that had been heading for Angel's face fell back to where it belonged beneath his feet. “Better for what?”
“Show and tell.” Angel slung his arm around Spike’s neck and willed his legs to move toward the door instead of buckling. “I show you I’m still the best cocksucker… like ever. And you!” He stopped and grinned down at Spike who was staring up at him with a mix of lust and worry. “You tell. With that rough sexy voice.”
He grabbed an almost full bottle of tequila as they passed one of the other tables, growling at the outraged former owners as they tried to grab it back. Spike threw a couple of twenties and an apologetic smile at them as he struggled under Angel’s weight.
“Tell? Tell what?”
“Well...Do you know the one about the priest, the nun and the rabbi?”
fin
Ok, it started out badly with waking up from a nightmare around 6 and not being able to fall asleep again, then coughing so much I threw up in the sink. But after that? New SPN episode. Birthday e-mail from Supernatural: Seek The Truth (Huh?). Birthday e-mail from newly refound friend in Norway. Birthday present from dad (necklace, earrings, bracelet). Birthday greetings at work. Flowers and fancy pansy coffee and almond croissant from co-worker. Birthday card from miss_c667. Picture and some strange pearl art from daughter. Still not sure what it's supposed to be. lol And lots of birthday greetings from you guys! Including pics and balloons and flowers and porn. Yay!
I was going to give you another chapter of The Fire Within as my own birthday present but I have no time to reply to feedback for ch.3 right now and I'd hate to fall behind on that, especially since you've been giving me such lovely comments.
Instead I give you another Fetish Fic. Not much sex but there's drunken Angel and jokes!
The prompt was Spike/Anyone but Andrew for hellziggy with the fetish:
Moriaphilia: Arousal from telling sexual jokes
He knew this had been a bad idea. Seriously, this had to be the worst idea ever in the history of bad ideas. Beyond not having Spike thrown out the minute he turned corporeal, beyond allowing him to steal blood from his fridge and booze from his liquor cabinet. And far beyond telling him that he could crash on the couch since, now that he had a body, he had to rest it somewhere. It was only because the cleaning ladies kept getting freaked out by finding him asleep in Angel's office, jumping up to grab their throats when they came too close.
All of that could be explained by the fact that no matter who Angel was dealing with, he was a nice guy and he helped the helpless, hopeless, whatever, even when they were annoying and insolent and, most importantly, Spike
But there was no way to explain why he'd said yes to having a drink or two with the annoying thing in question, to reminisce about the old days or whatever it was again. 'Lighten up his broody self', that was it. Didn't explain why now, two bottles of JD and half a pack of Marlboros later, he was still sitting here, feeling anything but light, watching Spike ignore him in favour of the blond bimbo currently perched on his thigh.
What kind of date, erm... night out, was this anyway when he was being left alone to brood all by himself while Spike whored his way to another free drink? Just look at him, running his fingers lightly over the bitch's neck as he whispered some filth into her ear.
Gritting his teeth Angel grabbed the bottle again, dismissing once again the glass beside it, and took a big gulp of the golden liquid. The burning sensation as it ran down his throat had long ago been reduced to a numb tickle and he wondered if his vampire stamina was kicking up again because he didn't feel drunk at all. Not even the tiniest bit of...
He blinked. Okay, maybe some dizziness. And his nose felt kinda numb. He had a short moment of panic, thinking he'd lost it again but then he remembered that he wasn't a puppet anymore and the fact that it was big enough that he could easily see it without even crossing his eyes made him feel kinda stupid. And even more dizzy as his eyes crossed anyway, trying to focus on a tiny dark speck disturbing his vision. He waved his hand irritated and brushed the tiny shell of peanut off his nose before resuming his stare at the slutty blondes.
Didn't these places have rules? Like, no fucking in public, rule? He looked around bleary eyed, taking in the stage and the lights and the long legs swinging around the pole. Oh yeah, right. They were at a strip club. How did he end up at a strip club? With Spike? And why was there no blond bimbo on his lap?
Sniffling in sudden self-pity Angel shuffled closer to tell Spike he was leaving, or that he really needed to throw up, he wasn't sure which. He had his hand already reached out to swat Spike's stupid head when he caught the sound of his subdued voice, whispering in the wench's ear.
“So the counsellor turns to the husband and says ,'That is what your wife needs at least three times a week. Can you do that?' And the husband thinks for a moment and replies, 'Well, I can get her here Monday and Wednesday, but Friday I play golf.'”
She giggled, her bony shoulder shaking and her boobs wobbling like jelly. Angel frowned as his pants became considerably tighter. Her laugh was incredibly annoying and he could practically smell the silicon in her tits. Just thinking about her naked was enough to kill what little interest little Liam was showing. So where had that interest come from in the first place?
“Tell me another one. Come on.”
Spike smiled into her hair and ran one hand down to her crotch, the other disappearing under her blouse. Angel decided he'd had enough and was just about to say to hell with it and turn around and leave them when the low voice started again, a hoarse sexy whisper that made his cock twitch like a very confused snake.
“All right then, luv. Just one more. So this bloke walks into a bar and orders 9 shots of tequila. The bartender pours the shots and the man downs one after the other, not even stopping to breathe.”
Spike paused and then his eyes suddenly shot over at Angel, dark like deep blue pits of... blue pits something. He sucked in his breath and Spike winked - winked! - at him. The snake started doing the mambo in his pants and he glared at the bottle of JD in his hand, wondering what the hell Spike obviously had drugged him with. Spike snorted and turned his attention back to the girl who was practically purring and rubbing against his hand.
“Right, where was I? Oh yeah. 'Bloody hell!' the bartender exclaims 'Never seen anyone drink tequila that fast before - what's the occasion?' 'My first blow job,' says the man.”
Whiskey splattered on the table as Angel choked on the last drop. Spike didn't look back at him but his shoulders shook slightly before he continued.
“'Well' the bartender replies 'That's quite something. Let me buy you another!' And the bloke looks up at him and says, 'Listen, no offense, mate, but if nine's not enough to take the bloody taste out of my mouth, I doubt another one'll help.'”
“Oh God! You're so awful! Eeww!!”
The girl looked as if she was about to gag and Spike frowned.
“Eeww? Luv, if even thinking of a blowjob gives you that face you're obviously not in the right place. Or...” Spike raised his eyebrow at her, “...sitting on the right lap.”
She snorted, a sound that Angel found even more irritating than her previous giggles, and rolled her eyes. “No, silly. God, I love blowjobs!” She fluttered her eyelashes but Spike only raised his eyebrow further, waiting for her explanation. “I just... I mean... well, it's yucky. You know, two guys, doing that. Fucking homos.”
Angel thought he'd never heard such a satisfactory sound as the yelp when the bimbo's ass hit the floor. She sat there, eyes wide as saucers, before struggling to her feet to stand on ten-inch heels, glaring down at Spike. “What the fuck did you do that for? What's wrong with you?”
“Wrong?” Spike hardly even bothered glancing at her. “Nothing wrong with me that a blowjob can't fix.”
“Well, jeez! All you had to do was ask!”
“Oh, not from you, bitch. I've put my dick in a lot of filth but I draw the line at bigots. Beside, my boyfriend over here is so much better at it than you will ever be. Ain't that right, Angel?” Spike raised his eyes and smiled lovingly at Angel who at just that moment was wondering when he'd left LA and entered The Twilight Zone. “Baby?”
Angel stared at him. Then he looked up and stared at the girl who was spluttering obscenities and wiping her mouth as if she'd been licking an ashtray and not kissing Spike a few minutes earlier. His eyes slowly went back to Spike who was watching him, a tentative smile on his lips. This was the part where he was supposed to say 'What the fuck are you doing?' or possibly 'You are totally dead' but when he opened his mouth what he heard was, “Best cocksucker on this side of the Atlantic, darling, that's me.”
Spike's eyes widened in shock and he stayed frozen for a second but then his face split in a grin and he reached out to curl a hand behind Angel's neck, drawing him in until their foreheads touched. “This side and the other, luv. Your mouth could melt mountains.”
They gazed into each others eyes, licking their lips, and with a loud 'Eurgh!' the slut swung around and stalked off, swinging her hips so hard it was a wonder she stayed upright at all.
They waited until she was far enough away and then Spike pulled back, practically doubling over with laughter.
“Oh. My. God! That was bloody priceless! That was... Sodding hell! I take back every thing I've said about you being a stuffy old pompous arse. This... You've redeemed yourself. Completely!” Spike wiped his eyes, blinking as he tried to calm down. “Best cocksucker! And with the 'darling'!” He shook his head, shoulders still shaking in amusement. “Christ though, you should have seen your face right before you got it. I thought you were gonna have a bloody heart attack!”
“Got it? Got what?”
Spike's laughing fit stopped short and he stared at Angel. “What? The joke, mate! The spoof. How bloody drunk are you?”
Angel pouted. Then he remembered he didn't pout and tried to look stern instead. He wasn't sure it was working. “I wasn't joking. And I'm not drunk. Okay, I'm a bit drunk but...” He waved his hand dismissively. “Doesn't matter. What matters is... Hell, Spike, who taught you all you know?”
Now it was Spike's turn to splutter his drink all over the table. “Wha... What did you just say?”
“Fuck, you were lousy at it. Worst cocksucker ever. Don't tell me you've forgotten. I taught you to hunt, I taught you to fight, I taught you how to suck my cock like a goddamn pro. All me. Ha!”
Spike just stared at him and then he slowly shook his head. “Okay, I think you've had enough. Bed time for you, pet.”
Angel frowned but then he nodded solemnly. “Yeah. Yes. You’re right.” He got slowly to his feet, waited for the carousel he suddenly seemed to be riding to stop spinning, and then reached out to grab Spike’s hand. “Bed’s much better.”
“Better?” Spike was suddenly by his side, arm around Angel’s waist and the floor that had been heading for Angel's face fell back to where it belonged beneath his feet. “Better for what?”
“Show and tell.” Angel slung his arm around Spike’s neck and willed his legs to move toward the door instead of buckling. “I show you I’m still the best cocksucker… like ever. And you!” He stopped and grinned down at Spike who was staring up at him with a mix of lust and worry. “You tell. With that rough sexy voice.”
He grabbed an almost full bottle of tequila as they passed one of the other tables, growling at the outraged former owners as they tried to grab it back. Spike threw a couple of twenties and an apologetic smile at them as he struggled under Angel’s weight.
“Tell? Tell what?”
“Well...Do you know the one about the priest, the nun and the rabbi?”
fin