Spike suddenly realizes, but not quite so suddenly, that he can feel something other than his own cock straining against his jeans, a coffee mug, pain, and a shower door. He can also feel Wesley coming in his mouth.
Spike had prowled the office for a few days, but never come upon Angel and Wesley in Angel’s office again. Until tonight. He’d entered, and seen them there, more than a little disappointed to find that Wesley didn’t have his grandsire doubled over the desk. The disappointment is squelched, though, when he realizes that the reason Angel isn’t doubled over the desk is because Wesley is leaning against it as Angel, fully clothed, kneels at his feet, nursing gently at the man’s cock.
Spike doesn’t make a sound, just stands where he is and watches, entranced by the vision and the still novel feeling of his erection pressing against cool denim. Wesley’s eyes disengage from Angel’s mouth and he looks up, directly at Spike. Spike feels as though he should be withering under such an intense, gaze, but more than that the brutal power there is only causing him to become harder.
“Spike,” Wesley greets him, his fingers carding through Angel’s hair at his lap, keeping Angel’s rhythm steady. Spike thinks hysterically that Angel’s going to be pissed about having his hair messed up later, but the thought is fleeting as he watches Wesley’s hardness disappear inside that voracious mouth again and again.
Spike casts his eyes back to Wesley’s face reluctantly, and notes the lines of pleasure around his panting mouth.
“Never figured you for an exhibitionist, I gotta say, mate.”
“I suppose there are a lot of things about me that you’ve been disinclined to learn.”
“Some,” Spike admits. “Don’t much care to know your middle name or your…” Spike trails off as he sees Angel take the man’s entire cock deeply down his throat.
“He’s quite good at this,” Wesley says with a strained voice.
“Never thought I’d see Angel subbing for anyone, either.”
“Oh, he’s not submitting.”
“He’s not?” Spike asks, unconvinced. To him, it looks very much that way.
“I’m not dominating.” Spike quirks up an eyebrow at his fellow countryman. "Angel simply likes to be taken, and I can’t say I get no pleasure from taking him.”
Spike looks pointedly at Wesley’s straining erection, still disappearing in Angel’s mouth.
“I can see that.”
“Yes, I suppose you can. Why don’t you come closer?”
Spike doesn’t wait for a second invitation, coming almost within touching distance.
“Do you suppose you can concentrate enough to join us?”
Angel’s head whips up. “What?” he asks, breathless as Wesley’s cock bobs wetly in front of his face. “Spike? Join in?”
“Do you have a problem with that, Angel?”
“Yes. It’s Spike.”
“He’s seen how much you like being with me this way, already, Angel. Perhaps it’s time for him to understand why you enjoy it so much.”
Angel stands.
“He can’t possibly understand,” he says, taking Wesley’s face gently in his right hand. Wesley Nuzzles gently into the touch, and Spike realizes there really is more to all of this than simply kinky sex games. “He doesn’t have our history.”
“Is that what it’s about for you, Angel? History?” Spike asks, suddenly very interested in the answer. “Because I seem to recall that you and I have a bit of history between us, too.”
“My history with you and my history with Wesley are two completely different entities,” Angel tells him, letting his hands stray to Wesley’s waist. Wesley doesn’t seem too frantic to get another mouth on his cock, apparently willing to wait patiently.
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t, Spike.” Spike knows it’s not because Angel doesn’t think he’ll understand, but he asks anyway.
“Why not?”
“Because Wesley doesn’t really know all of it.” Wesley looks at him with interest, a question in his gaze.
“I don’t?”
“I can’t… I can’t talk about this. You wouldn’t believe it if I did.”
“Wouldn’t I? Have I ever not believed anything you’ve told me from the time we first met?”
Angel searches his lover’s eyes for long moments, finally letting out a sigh and leaning against the desk, interlocking his fingers with Wesley’s. Spike listens as Angel launches into a tale of Darla, a son named Connor, and a pillow. Betrayal and exile, and Spike watches Wesley’s face as he listens. Angel is sure to explain Wesley’s actions, defending him to the last, as though Wesley would deny his own responses.
“So before we took over Wolfram & Hart, Lilah wiped everyone’s memory of him. He’s with a family up North, living a normal teenager’s life.”
By the end of the tale, Wesley’s erection has flagged, at about half-mast. Spike watches Wesley digest this new information, which Spike, himself is having difficulty understanding.
“So…” Wesley gestures the scene they’ve been in. “This is your apology to me? You think you can earn forgiveness for trying to kill me by letting me take you?”
“That’s…only a part of it.”
Wesley’s erection flags completely.
“So that’s why you’re with me. To make up to me something that never happened.”
“No, Wes, that’s not…”
“You just said so yourself.”
“No, that’s not it. I’m with you because I want to be with you. I…let you top me because I’m making up to you what did happen but you forgot.”
Spike suddenly feels like he’s intruding, but can’t bring himself to leave, since Wesley’s cock is beginning to fill again.
Wesley crushes his mouth to Angel’s, and the two are locked in frenzied kisses for long minutes before Wesley slides down his lover’s body, and Spike’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. Wesley’s on his knees, then, using his long, nimble fingers to pull open the zipper of Angel’s slacks, pulling out Angel’s cock, which is only slightly beginning to harden.
“Wes, you don’t…”
Wesley cuts him off by sucking him down. Spike’s watching Angel’s face, his cock hardening suddenly as well. He can’t believe the look on Angel’s face as his dick is encased by hot, wet suction.
Wesley pulls his mouth off with a wet pop, and smiles gently up at Angel, who can’t take his eyes off the grey ones at his waist. “I forgive you, Angel.” Angel’s eyes roll back up in his head, and he lets out a strangled moan as Wes swallows him down again.
A choked sound from Spike, and Wesley’s eyes cast up to the specter. There’s an invitation in those eyes, and Spike wonders how it came to be that he could read so much from a man who appears to be more stoic than Angel ever was.
He takes the invitation, for whatever reason, and before he knows what’s happening he’s laying on the floor, Wesley’s thighs straddling his neck. Spike sticks his tongue out and is pleased to realize it doesn’t take that much concentration to actually taste Wesley’s musky cock. He can still taste Angel on it, not sure if it’s that taste that makes it that much hotter.
Then Wesley is thrusting gently into his mouth, and Spike lets out a little moan, eyes staring intently at the sight directly above him, Wesley’s mouth bobbing up and down on Angel’s cock. Spike remembers how that feels, to be sucking Angel, and as much as he pretty much hates Angel now, he remembers loving that, and can see that Wes doesn’t think it’s all that shabby either.
Spike lets his hand stray to his cock, and as long as he’s concentrating on sucking Wesley down his entire body is corporeal, which is nice, considering he really wants to be able to jerk himself off as he listens to the men above him moaning and crying out with pleasure. He keeps sucking, letting Wesley thrust down, hearing Wesley’s cries as Spike takes his entire length down easily. He didn’t spend 20 years with Angelus without learning a few tricks.
“Wes…fuck, Wes, I’m…”
Spike can smell it, Angel’s coming, spurting violently into Wes’s mouth, and Wes is swallowing as quickly as he can, but he can’t swallow it all, and Spike feels a few droplets fall on his face, which causes him to grunt, his hand nearly vibrating on his cock, he’s jerking off so fast, and Wes looks up, Spike can see Angel’s eyes locking with his, and then Wes looks down to see Spike, sucking him down expertly, droplets of Angel’s come glistening on his face and Wes simply wails as he shoots, and Spike can feel Wes coming in his mouth, and Spike has to come without making a sound or he won’t be able to swallow everything Wes gives him.
Wes rolls to the side when it’s over, panting, and Angel curls up behind him, wrapping an arm around Wesley’s waist and nuzzling into the back of his neck. Wes reaches out and gestures Spike closer to him. Spike can’t concentrate enough to know his own name, though, let alone touch Wesley, but he can still feel the heat of him in the air, close to his own body, as he rests beside the other two.
“Thank you,” Wesley whispers to him, and Spike quirks an eyebrow.
“For helping us.” Spike nods with understanding, smirks, and watches as Angel presses a loving kiss to the back of Wesley’s neck.
“You would have figured it out eventually. Angel, there, though, he’s stupid enough to have let it fester, anyway.” Angel glares at him, and Wesley hides a smirk from the older vampire before pressing himself back a little more, snuggling into the embrace.
Spike watches them as they fall asleep in one another’s arms, on the floor of Angel’s office. He calls himself a complete poof as he pulls a throw blanket from the little sofa and covers them up, zipping his incorporeal pants back up and walking through the wall into the outer office. He got his rocks off, and he has every intention of tasting Wesley’s come again, but tonight he’s going to let them be lovers.
Besides which, if he’s lucky, they’ll sleep till morning and someone can walk in on them in the office. Like Harmony. Spike snickers.
