Pet: Part Nine

[thebratqueen]

PART NINE

When Spike woke up, he decided he felt like giving Wesley a blowjob. Never one for pondering the rhyme and reason for that sort of thing, he immediately scootched down beneath the covers.

Wes was still asleep, or at least most of him was. It took a while before he stirred. A clumsy hand moved down to blindly touch his hair.

"Spike," Wesley said, his voice still not fully awake yet, "that had better be you."

Spike shot Wesley a mock-hurt look. It was a wasted effort, the boy's eyes were closed. "All this time and you can't tell when it's me? I'm all wounded, now. Besides, who the Hell else do you expect?"

"I've learned not to take things for granted," Wesley replied. He rubbed a hand across his face. "And I thought we agreed you wouldn't do that."

Spike ticked off the various things Wes could mean. Take things for granted? Learn? Talk? Oh, the oral sex. "We did? Think I'd remember that one, pet."

"Last night," Wesley said. He looked down at him, long lashes obscuring his eyes. "I said it wasn't fair."

"Now it's morning," Spike pointed out.

"And it still isn't fair."

"Nothing is, no reason we shouldn't enjoy ourselves," Spike replied. He absently stroked Wes's balls with one hand, smiling when it got a reaction out of him. "You enjoying yourself?"

Wesley tried to sit up. "That still doesn't mean - "

Spike pushed him back down. It didn't take much effort. Wes was about as much of a morning person as Angel was. "Relax. It's sex, pet, not some kind of math equation. Doesn't have to come out equal, just has to - well, come."

Wes shook his head. "But you - "

"Still have that power to veto you," Spike reminded him. "What was it Da said about minding me? Well shut up and mind me. Christ. All this fuss you'd think I was bad at it."

Wesley smiled down at him. "You're not."

"All right then," Spike told him, glad the bit of discipline hadn't thrown things. He didn't want to bring that fear up again but on the other hand there were certain things Spike wasn't going to stand for and people arsing about with morals when they could be having sex were easily two to three of them.

He bent back down to the task, reawakening Wes's cock with lips and tongue. He kept it nice and easy, adding just enough suction to make it interesting. Once he found a pressure that made Wes's breath catch, he kept at it, not altering in the slightest, just letting the repetition of the touch create all the frustration in the world.

He waited until sleepiness began to drop away and desire replaced it. Wes grew warm and hard underneath his lips and Spike scraped teeth along the shaft to reward him. Wes sucked in a breath, his hand now kneading at Spike's shoulders as he silently tried to encourage him.

No encouragement needed, Spike drank in Wes's pleasure as its own reward. He sucked and licked Wes down, savoring the taste of his flesh. He nudged Wesley's legs apart, running a sharp thumbnail down Wes's inner thigh - right over that lovely vein - and got a keening sound in reply to it. He dropped his hand back down to Wes's balls again, massaging them until he began to taste precome.

"Spike," Wesley whispered, "please."

And that right there was enough to explain Angel's infatuation. Spike smiled around Wes's dick, seeing no need to discourage the boy from begging if that was his inclination. Angel might be a ponce about a lot of things, but he knew what kept things interesting in the bedroom.

"Want more?" Spike asked, giving Wes's cock the tiniest nip of teeth.

Wesley's hips bucked. "Yes. Please."

"All right," Spike said. He worked Wesley's dick with his hand, bringing two fingers up to rub back and forth over the tip. "Like that?"

There was a nod. Wesley's body was starting to do that all-over trembling. "Yes."

Spike flicked his tongue over the spot his fingers had touched. "Or like - " he moved his hand down, sliding one slick finger slowly into Wesley's ass. " - that?"

Wesley froze, his heaving chest the only thing that moved. "Spike - Angel said -"

"My cock's staying right where it is," Spike promised. He moved his finger in deeper, smiling when he saw a familiar look of pleasure strike Wes's face. "Just adding to the fun is all."

"Spike," Wesley breathed, and it could have been a compliment, could have been a protest, could have been a bit of both. But Wes's body was all pleasure and right now that's all Spike wanted to listen to.

"Relax," he told him, and wrapped his lips around that lovely cock once more.

It didn't take long after that. Spike added another finger, pumped Wes like he wasn't allowed to with his dick, sucked him like only a vampire could and pretty soon it was gasps and nails digging into his shoulderblade and constantly moving hips and "Spike - Spike - *Spike* - " and then it was one mortal breakfast, nice as you please.

"There you are," Spike said, carefully taking his hand back. "Not a bad way to wake up, yeah?"

"I've had worse," Wesley agreed. He looked up at the ceiling as he caught his breath. "That was all right?"

"I like to think so."

Wes gave him a look for his trouble. "*Allowed*, Spike. What you just did was allowed?"

"Oh yeah," Spike said. He shifted over, lying on his side. "Can't fuck you proper but can still have a little fun."

"So when Angel said you couldn't do that he wasn't banning *all* forms of penetration? Just - " Wesley made a gesture, back on proper speech for reasons Spike would never be able to discern. " - down below?"

Spike smirked. "Right, pet. Can't put my cock inside of you."

"Interesting," Wesley said. He sat up, looking Spike over. "Lay back."

Thinking he knew where this was going, Spike said, "Blowjobs too, pet. Unless you feel like breaking the rules?"

"Oh no," Wes said. He pushed Spike down, guiding him onto his back. "I have every intention of obeying them."

"Wouldn't *mind* if you felt like - "

"Spike?" Wesley said, putting a hand over Spike's mouth. "Hush."

"Yes, pet," Spike mumbled beneath Wes's fingers. He propped his hands behind his head, watching as Wesley sat back to study him once more. "'course if you change your mind - "

"Spike, be quiet or you shan't have anything," Wesley told him.

Spike tried to catch his eye. "Just saying we could *sometimes* break the rules."

"*We* could if *we* were inclined," Wesley agreed. "But *I* am not and *you* are still talking." Wes took Spike's cock in his hand, beginning to stroke it. "Would you like me to leave?"

"Not if you're going to do that," Spike replied.

"That and, if you're good, more," Wesley said. "Now hush."

"Yes, pet," Spike repeated. He settled down again. "So, what's on the menu?"

Wesley let go of him, reaching up to take Spike's hand and place it over his mouth. "Leave that there. If you distract me again I'm going to stop for good. Understood?"

Spike gave him a look to indicate that he couldn't answer if he'd just been told to be quiet now could he?

It was the sort of thing that normally drove Angel up a wall. Wes simply took it in stride. "Excellent. Now stay like that."

Spike smirked and stayed where he was.

Wesley watched him carefully, clearly ready to leave if he so much as said 'boo'. When Spike remained silent Wesley nodded in satisfaction. "Good. Now don't interrupt me."

Wes's warm, mortal hand was wrapped around his dick again. No new thing, this, but nice all the same. Spike relaxed, ready to enjoy a morning handjob. He closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of pressure moving up and down his shaft. There was the occasional brush of thumb over the tip. Sometimes Wes just squeezed.

All in all, not bad.

Then Wesley moved. Spike felt the mattress shift, then the cool touch of air as Wes's took his hand away.

It was replaced by warm air as Wesley blew it on him.

Spike opened his eyes.

"Not one word," Wesley reminded him.

Spike had taken his own hand away to start talking, but stayed silent at the rebuke. He sat up, watching Wes get to work.

Wes was concentrating, brows furrowed like he was over a book. But he was hovering over Spike's dick, lips scant millimeters away as he caressed Spike with his breath.

Catching Spike's look, Wesley smiled up at him. He brought his hand back, circling Spike's cock with his thumb and middle finger. "I can't allow you to - " he moved this ring of flesh slowly down to the base, then back up again " - penetrate, but that doesn't mean there aren't other things I can do."

Spike swallowed. "You don't say?"

If that broke Wes's rule about not interrupting, Wes gave no indication. Instead he leaned in, swiping his tongue along the underside of Spike's dick. "I do."

"Then don't let me bother you, pet," Spike told him.

Wesley laughed, then licked him again.

It was maddening, this. Wes's tongue worked up and down, getting him all wet and bothered like a woman. He avoided the tip, but gave plenty of attention to the rest, lapping at him like a newborn to a neck wound. Then Spike found himself thinking of Wesley and blood and the whole thing definitely became warmer.

Lips were next. Feather-light things that dusted over him, teasing him with the thought of what they might feel like if they were wrapped around him. And all the while that ring of Wesley's hand moving up and down, tight and slow, pulling his cock to new lengths.

He didn't need to breathe. He didn't have to. But there were times when it definitely felt warranted.

Suction. Not on the top but along the side. Narrow, tiny hickeys stitched in seams along the left and right. One bigger one sucked next to the base. Then the tongue back up, writhing over the tip, tastebuds scraping friction over just where he needed it.

"Pet," he said, warning him now.

Open mouthed kisses, upper and lower lip tracing the same line on the top and bottom of his dick. Spike thrusted, the half-circle of wet heat enough to drive him mental.

"*Pet*."

Wes brought his hand up again, covering the side of Spike's dick that his mouth couldn't touch. This was as good as it got, then, and Spike twisted hands into the sheets, not trusting himself not to harm Wes as he thrust forward good and proper, fucking this wet-rough grip that was the only thing he got to fuck Wes by. He jerked his hips, seeking out that perfect form of friction and found it in the sensation of Wesley's teeth as they scraped him just enough to bring him to - to -

He came, and watched in amazement as Wes managed to move quickly enough to make sure the sticky fluid came right on his safely non-penetrated lips.

"Christ," Spike said, not sure what else *could* be said at this kind of view.

Wesley wiped his mouth, then lapped at his fingers. "There."

Spike watched Wesley, mesmerized. "Right."

"It's rather like a puzzle, isn't it?" Wes said, clearly pleased with himself. "Having fun without disobeying Angel, I mean. It's really just another form of translation."

"Right," Spike said again, figuring his brain would kick in any day now. "Where'd you learn to do that, pet?"

Done cleaning up, Wes simply smiled at him. "Easy. I went to public school."

"Should've guessed," Spike said. He abstractly wondered which one.

Wesley got up, denying Spike the pleasure of his naked backside as he wrapped a loose sheet around himself. "I'm going to take a shower. If that's all right?"

"Yeah," Spike said, trying to get himself to focus on the practicalities again.

Wesley gave him a look of invitation. "You could join me?"

Spike started to sit up, then stopped himself. "Could. Might. Should probably call Angel first. Bound to be on a tear about something right about now."

Something flickered in Wes's eyes but it was gone too quick for Spike to guess at. "Would you like me to wait?"

"Nah," Spike told him. "Get yourself all cleaned up. He'll have my hide if I don't have you all pretty and ready for him when he gets back."

Wes nodded. "All right. Join me if you're able."

Spike waited until he heard the shower water running before picking up his cellphone. He didn't even bother to look at the log before pushing the button to call the last number that had dialed him. "You know you could *call* him once in a bloody while."

Angel didn't even miss a beat. "I did. Fifteen times. Where the Hell were *you*?"

"Sleeping, wasn't I?" Spike retorted. He sat back against the headboard. "Right next to your precious. What, you want me to leave the ringer on and wake him up?"

"Phone's got a vibrate function," Angel pointed out.

"Trust you to know that," Spike said. "And it's still my phone, isn't it? Why don't you call *his* cell, you burke?"

"I told *you* to watch him," Angel said. "Calling *you* should be enough. What if something happened? What if I'd needed to reach you?"

"Then you would have bugged one of the five thousand underlings who don't get paid enough to work around here and wipe your ass and told *them* to come get me," Spike replied. "And you're still avoiding the question."

"How'd he sleep last night?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Fine. Took him out, made him eat, watched him work a pool table then came back here for what you're allowing to pass for a shag. Slept like a baby after that."

"He enjoy himself?"

"Which part?"

"All of it, any of it," Angel said. There was a mumbled sound in the background. Spike concentrated and guessed Angel had covered the phone while talking to someone else. He made out something about contracts before Angel's voice came back. "He doesn't relax enough. Did you make sure he relaxed?"

"You miss the part about the shagging?" Spike asked. "His idea, mind you. Oh, by the way, kettle, pot's got a message for you."

Angel sighed. "Spike, it's early."

"And you've been what?" Spike guessed, "Up all night? You forget I know you, mate. I know your voice after everything from a three week brooding to a night-long torture. Right now you sound about as wound up as if they just slapped the soul in you. What do they have you doing there anyway?"

"Nothing I'm having fun with," Angel said. "I don't like our clients, I don't like our rivals and I really, *really* don't like that vendor."

"How many'd you kill?" Spike asked, slipping the question in there with no judgment at all behind it.

"I'll be home later today."

Which was an answer in and of itself. "Christ. Angel, you should have brought me with you."

"I needed you to watch Wes."

"Then you should have brought *Wes* with you."

"I needed him safe."

"And now he's bloody miserable without you!" Spike caught himself and lowered his voice before Wes could overhear him. "Could you, for once in your life, *try* to work the conscience correctly? Don't shut him out because you're all guilted up for what they have you doing out there. It's not like he doesn't know what you're capable of. He's mad about you anyway."

"This isn't a conversation we're having anymore," Angel said, and he was on his don't-fuck-with-me voice now. "Got it?"

"Angel, I'm not going to drop it when - "

"*Got* it?"

"Fuck you too, mate," Spike replied. He fished in the nightstand drawer, finding the pack of cigarettes he'd hidden there. When there was nothing but dead silence on the phone, he decided to work damage control. "All right, already. Consider it dropped. But don't bloody try to shut *me* out, okay? Who you got left to understand you besides me?"

"So I'm in Hell, is what you're saying."

Spike allowed his shoulders to relax. They were back on banter. That meant it wasn't *too* bad. "You or me, luv. Could never figure that one out."

"Could be both."

Spike opened up the pack with one hand and drew a cigarette out of it. "Could be both. You know, there's worse people to be in Hell with than you, Liam."

"Somebody had sex this morning."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"You get soppy after sex."

"I do not!"

"You so do."

"Like Hell."

"Yeah, because *I* wouldn't know what you're like after you come," Angel said and Spike could *see* the look Angel was giving him. "Since I just met you and all."

"And again: fuck you," Spike replied. He searched for his lighter. "You got a minute? Could talk you through one of those soppy orgasms yourself, you know."

"No time," Angel said. "Besides, I'm kinda working this hard edge of anger thing."

"Just don't let it work you into an early grave," Spike told him. "Got a boy here who'd die without you."

"Yeah, sure, but what about Wes?"

"Ha, ha," Spike said. He sat back, turning the lighter over in his hand. "Seriously, got anything you want me to tell him?"

Angel thought about it. "Tell him I'll be home later today. And tell him I - "

"Love him?"

" - will make it up to him," Angel said, ignoring him as usual. "We'll go out or something."

"Think he'd rather stay in *and* something," Spike said.

"That too."

"Right, consider him told," Spike said. He flipped open the top of his lighter. "And you don't do anything stupid. Or dumber than usual for you at any rate."

"Thanks," Angel said, dryly. "By the way, Spike?"

"Yeah."

"Stop trying to smoke in my bed."

Spike flipped him off as Angel hung up on him.