The door was pulled open so fast it was nearly ripped off its hinges. The shouting male voice, once muffled by the heavy oak, could now be heard clearly throughout the empty Hyperion.
"I don't know who you think you are, Angelus, but if you think you can order me around like some sodding slave you're out of your bloody mind. I'm not a fledge! I can take care of myself without your fat ass gettin in my way!"
With that, a thin vampire with a head of shockingly blond hair marched through the open doorway, slamming the door so hard behind him that the whole building seemed to shake from the force of the blow.
Less than a minute later, the metal grate leading down to the sewers could be heard opening, then closing. The hotel was shrouded in silence once more.
For the dark-haired man remaining in the tension-thick bedroom, the silence was a blessing. Only in silence could he think. Only in silence could he brood. And today, after weeks of having Spike there to distract him from his true calling, he felt a definite desire to take back his rightful throne as the King of Brood.
It was his fault more than Spike's, Angel knew. He didn't like to admit it to himself, but in the abrupt quiet that fell with the blond's departure he was unable to ignore the facts any longer. In truth, as the minutes, then hours, ticked by without the return of the bleached wonder, Angel's melancholy began to manifest itself as blatant self-pity as he recalled the events leading up to their fight.
Fact one: as Spike's Sire, Angelus had always had a boundless amount of power over the younger man. The unsoulled version of the brunette had always twisted this power in an attempt to find new and better ways to dominate and humiliate the blue-eyed vampire.
Fact two: Angel was not Angelus, and there were more dimensions to the distinction between them than the fact that one of them had a soul.
Fact three: as was evidenced by Spike's earlier outburst, Angel could never hope to exert the same kind of control over the smaller man as Angelus always had, even when he was attempting to protect and care for the childe he had grown to love as an equal.
Fact four: by attempting to do so anyway, Angel had just badly damaged - if not completely severed - his still new but definitely promising relationship with Spike.
Fact five: without his childe beside him each night, Angel was going to be alone again, as he had been alone for years before Spike had re-entered his life.
Fact six: Angel really, really didn't want to be alone again.
Once the sun had set, Angel sipped up to the hotel's roof, where he usually sat to enjoy the panoramic vista of Los Angeles laid out before him.
Tonight the lights all blurred together into one big glittering backdrop, the idea that there were people out there - perhaps millions of them - who were cuddling with their significant others as they waited for the fireworks to start making his depression more pronounced. Spike should be there with him now, curled up in his lap, the blond's hands gliding into the Irishman's hair and under his clothes as the huge explosions of color splashed across the sky.
A sudden deafening blast close behind him nearly caused the older vampire to leap off the roof, or at the very least out of his skin. Whirling around, he came face-to-face with his grinning childe, who held a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a bag of small firecrackers and cherry bombs in the other.
Before Angel's mind had consciously processed the fact that Spike was there, standing right in front of him, he found that his body had already reacted, grabbing the blue-eyed man by the back of his head and pulling him into a desperately bruising kiss.
When Angel finally got himself under control enough to let his childe go, both vampires were panting for unneeded breath.
"Will," Angel began, knowing that his apology could make or break his relationship with the younger man.
"Can it, Peaches," interrupted Spike, laying two of his fingers over the brunette's mouth. "I know, you're just trying to look after me by making me stay home when you go fight the big uglies. You're sorry and you'll never do it again, blah blah blah. Have I covered it all? It's just you being your normal nancyboy self. Let's just sit back and enjoy the pretty colors, all right?"
With the blond's fingers still over his mouth, Angel could only nod emphatically. Sitting down gingerly on the roof's edge, the Irishman watched as the smaller man ripped into the bottle of whiskey, then lit off another noisy rocket before sitting down next to him. His arms ached to reach out and pull his childe closer, but for now he contented himself with casually brushing his knee against the other man's. Eventually, however, by repeating this subtle pressure a number of times, the dark-haired man succeeded in calling Spike's attention to it, earning him an amused glare.
"You really are just a big poof, you know that?" the North Londoner asked just before he maneuvered himself into the taller vampire's lap.
"Mmmm." Angel was too busy wrapping his arms around the lithe figure before him and nuzzling the top of Spike's head to respond properly.
The two vampires remained entwined for the rest of the evening as the sky exploded with color all around them.
-end-