TITLE: Beautiful Poetry

AUTHORS: Salustra and Pet

E-MAILS: Salustra: goddess_salustra@juno.com; Pet: spikespet2001@yahoo.com.

RATING: NC-17

PAIRING: Angel/Spike

SUMMARY: Spike and Angel spend some quality time after the Poetry Slam.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT: This fic is dedicated to our boys, Angel and Spike, in all their incarnations…our loves and our inspirations. And of course, to the hopes of terrible wrath upon the WB, may they roast in hell. We wrote this fic in two hours, start to finish, and I (Salustra) bawled almost the entire way through. Hope y'all like it.

DISTRIBUTION: Various lists and Wierd Romance RP- BtVS/Ats RP http://groups.yahoo.com/group/WierdRomance. Anyplace else is fine, just let us know where it is going.

SPOILERS: Season 5 Ats: Not Fade Away

WARNINGS: Lots of schmoop. Be forewarned.

DISCLAIMER: We don't own any of these characters; they belong to Joss and ME. We really wish we could borrow Spike and Angel for a little while though.

FEEDBACK: Yes please.


Beautiful Poetry
by Salustra and Pet

It was late, and Spike had finished a triumphant set at the Poetry Slam. Not much time now before the meeting...time maybe to go stare at the stars a bit, get all philosophical...hell, maybe write a poem. He slips out the back way into a dark alleyway.

As soon as he is outside and looks up, a figure shoots out of the shadows and shoves him face first against the wall.

Spike struggles a bit but the figure holds him firmly, but oddly gently, and reaches around to stroke his crotch. "Bloody 'ell!" He screams out. "What the fuck are you playin' at, whoever you are?"

The figure chuckles and moves his other hand that's firmly holding him to the wall and replaces it with his firm chest. Then brings his other hand to Spike's face near his nose.

Spike sniffs then, and relaxes at the familiar scent. "Peaches, it's you. Still, I ask...what the fuck?"

Angel leans to Spike's ear and whispers, "For one, I told you I always liked your poetry, Will."

Spike shivers. *That man's voice whispering in my ear...fuck, it always does this to me.* "Thank you. Can't believe you tracked me down here, but thank you. And two?"

Angel chuckles again and nuzzles his nose into Spike's hair. "Two, well, two I told you all to do whatever you wanted to do with what could be your last day. I didn't forget myself in that. I visited my son for one--don't ask-- long story I don't have time to tell. And now I'm here with you. Do you need me to tell you why I'm here, or can you guess?"

Spike moans and chuckles at the same time. "Well, the hand on my crotch is kinda giving me an idea, yes. So, here?"

Angel sobers and says with a note of caring that's been missing from his voice as far as Spike's concerned for a very long time, "Yes, I wish I could've done it somewhere nice, with pillows and blankets made of silk and satin. A bed the size of a small island. But it has to be here, now, and we can't take our time because time isn't on our side. Can you handle that? Because you can say no. Just because I want it doesn't mean you have to give me it."

Spike shivers again, hearing that note in Angel's voice. His eyes mist, just a bit, and he's glad Angel is behind him and can't see. "It's the thought that counts, eh? Fuck. Angel...if you don't know that I would take this anyway you offered it, then you just haven't paid enough bloody attention. Fuck, yes, here and now, hard and fast. I want it. I want you."

Angel lets a sigh of relief he didn't even know he was holding go. Starts to unbuckle Spikes pants, then lets them drop to the ground. Then he does his own and they drop as well. He nestles their bodies closer, his cock already half-hard. He puts one hand to Spike's cock, gripping it, and the other around his throat, gently tipping his head back so he can caress his throat. "Good. Because I would've hated to force you on what could be our last day of unlife. Look at me."

Spike twists his head around to look at Angel. His cock is quickly hardening in Angel's grip, and he looks into Angel's chocolate brown eyes with his crystal blue ones. He sees...he sees so much there...lust, desire, longing, friendship...and maybe, just maybe, a love he worried might be buried forever. If his heart beat, it certainly would have skipped then. He wonders what Angel sees in his eyes. But out loud, he only says, "Yes?"

Angel says softly, wanting his double meaning to be clear, "Just wanted you to see me and I wanted to see you. You see me, right?"

Spike nods, his voice a bare whisper, hoarse with emotion. "I see you. You see me?"

Angel smiles and kisses Spike softly savoring it and just letting their lips linger, knowing it may be the last, memorizing the taste and feel. Then he pulls back and looks into Spike's eyes, his voice cracking only marginally. "I always see you. Never stopped."

Spike's jaw clenches then and he swallows hard, trying not to let the mist in his eyes blossom into full-blown tears. No tears. Not now. He looks back as long as he dares then slowly turns his head away, rubbing against Angel, feeling his cock harden against his ass. He finds his voice, now. "Then show me."

Angel rubs his fingers up and down Spike's throat softly as he pulls back his hips, then pushes forward hard and fast, encasing himself inside Spike. He stops only for a mere few seconds to cherish this as well, remember everything, the sight, the smell, the feeling, what his heart sings-- what it's always sung. Then he starts to move, pistoning in and out, hard and fast, sure and deep.

Spike whimpers deep in his throat, the feelings, the sensations, all too familiar and yet so far away. It had been so long...too long...since he had been home. Really and truly home. His body responds as if not one day had passed. He whispers, one word. "Sire."

"Yes, yes, my Childe, your Sire. And you're my Will, always my Will, my beautiful boy," Angel whispers as he strokes his thumbs over the mark that made him. That he made so long ago, for obsession, for possession, and yes even for love, even though it had not been given the name then.

Spike cries out then, unable to hold the tears back, "Your beautiful boy!" and thrusts back harder against him, his hands reaching back to grasp Angel's hips, desperate to touch him, to feel him.

Angel buries his face in Spike's hair, letting him have the tears. He can be the strong one for both of them this time. And he pumps harder, both on Spike's cock and inside him, driving deeper, as if trying to be where no else has ever been. But no one else has ever been here just him, always him.

Spike gasps and moans now, purring hard even as the tears flow, everything mixing in him at once, the lust, the passion, the love, the loss, the sheer wonder of having this again when he least expected it. He speaks again. "Yours. I have always been yours. That's why I couldn't leave."

"Shhh, I know, I know. Glad you didn't because I get to tell you with my last possible day that.....I need you, I want you..." *Angel strokes Spike's neck firmer, relaxing to let his head fall back enough so he can look into his eyes, his pace becoming erratic as he grows closer. "I love you...I love you."

"I love you...Oh, fuck, Angel...there's not enough time. Not enough time. So much wasted, so much gone by...I should have said it every day. I should never...never...oh damn. There's no time. There's no time!"

Angel shakes his head, rubbing it along Spike's. "Shhh, shhh Will...feel with me, feel with me, baby boy. No time to think about time. Shhh, just feel with me, feel this with me, so close Will, feel it with me." Angel moans raggedly and emotionally.

Spike closes his eyes for a moment, feeling their bodies move. Strange, how here at the last the one who never thought about anything beyond the present could only think about all the time gone, and the one who did nothing but brood over time gone by was thinking only of the present. Some kind of cruel joke Fate played on them, like all the other cruel ones that had conspired to keep them apart for so long. He pushes all these thoughts aside, just feels his body, Angel's body, the smells, the sounds, and he cries out, "I feel it. So close, Angel, so close."

Angel shudders and he leans over to Spike's ear, whispering in a sad, loving and sobbing voice, "Cum for me Will, cum for me."

And Spike cums then, a shattering, star-filled explosion, his whole body and mind torn apart and put back together again. He looks at Angel then, his face illuminated and glowing in the moonlight. He can't help it. He whispers, "Effulgent."

Angel cums silently but strongly, spilling into Spike for what he views to be the last time. When he settles, he smiles at Spike and strokes his face, whispering in his voice of old, "Aye, it was. It was. Tis that very thing. What we are." Angel kisses Spike, then whispers against his lips, "Beautiful Poetry."

Spike nods, whispering back. "Thank you. Angel...if there is an after....I know there won't be, but if there is an after...."

Angel pulls out gently, redresses himself, then Spike. He turns Spike around, holding his face in his hands. "If there *is* a after. I buy a place big enough for two. We tell everyone about us. And then we take a vacation from the world for a little while." Angel grins. "Maybe Disney world."

Spike laughs, then kisses him again, hungrily and tenderly. "All I needed to hear." He wipes the last of his tears away, then squares his shoulders, looking at Angel. "Time to go be heroes."

Angel strokes Spike's cheeks one last time, then he lets go and squares his own shoulders and he nods. "Time to be heroes. This was ours though, just ours. And they never take that, ever." Angel nods his head to the alley. "You first this time. I follow you."

Spike nods and smiles, realizing what Angel was saying to him, and he walks out into the night, Angel close behind. Heroes. Lovers. Friends.



end