On the Loose (Spike/Angel)
Aug. 5th, 2006 03:33 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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tamingthemuseI've been depressed and blocked lately. This was excellent for breaking the block and getting me writing. Surprisingly for me, no smut yet.
Title: On The Loose
Fandom: Angel the Series
Prompt: Hovel
Warnings: Some implied slashiness
Rating: Teens, I guess
Summary: Angel and Spike are on the run, post NFA.
“It’s a hovel,” Angel sneered, wrinkling his nose in distaste.
“Stop being such a bloody elitist snob, you wanker,” Spike replied. “It’s a perfectly nice shack. It’s clean and weathertight. So stop complaining.” Spike strolled in, his usual confident rolling stride, and draped himself on one of the available chairs.
“All right, have it your way then.” Angel sighed. It was exhausting, trying to argue with his unruly childe. Especially since they were all the other had left. “Where are we supposed to get blood? There’s no town for at least three hundred miles.”
“There’s plenty of game about. We can hunt.”
Angel groaned and dropped heavily into the other chair. “There *had* to be someplace else we could have gone.”
“You’re an ungrateful sod, you know that?” Spike said. “We’re on the run from the bloody law firm you had to get everyone involved with, and you’re complaining because you don’t like the bolthole I set up for us. We need time for the trail to get cold, and this is the best way. No people about, not even any real roads.”
Angel made a rumbling half-growl and shrugged. “All right. So you’ve got a point.” He looked around the cabin. There was a tiny kitchenette on one side, the two chairs and a ratty threadbare couch in the middle and one large bad in the corner. He rolled his eyes at that and looked back at Spike. “So where’s the other bed?”
Spike grinned. “That’s the only one.”
Angel raised an eyebrow. “And where are *you* going to sleep?”
“On the bed. I paid for the bloody cabin with money I stole fair and square.”
“May I remind you that I am your Sire?”
Spike laughed. “May I remind you that I don’t give a rat’s arse?”
Angel growled. “I’m taking the bed, you can have the couch.”
“Fuck you, Angel. I’m on the bed. If you behave I might even share.”
Angel flexed his arms subtly, and sat up a bit in his chair. “Am I going to have to fight you for it?”
“If you like.” Spike continued his infuriating grin. “Although you remember how that worked out last time.”
Angel sat and chewed that thought over. Spike pushed up from his chair and turned on the TV. It was an ancient one, with a dial to change the channel, and antennas, not cable. Spike flipped through channels til he found something he liked, then sat back down, ignoring Angel pointedly.
Angel spent a while in uncomfortable silence. He didn’t like this, not at all. He could still feel the soreness in him from the dragon falling on him, and he knew Spike would probably kick his ass in a fight. Would Spike really fight over who got the bed? He looked at his infuriating childe and decided he probably would. He finally spoke. “I’ll take the couch then.”
Spike just chuckled. “Good.” He watched TV a while longer, then started shedding his clothes.
“What are you doing?” Angel asked.
“Getting ready for bed. Not like you haven’t seen it all before.” Spike was soon naked, sliding under the covers. He sprawled comfortably across the bed.
Angel looked over at the indolently lounging vampire. He could remember sketching him like this, naked and recumbent. Old memories pushed up and he felt a bit of sudden longing. He pushed it away and started removing his own clothes, leaving on only his boxers. He pulled a pillow and covers out of a chest, and stretched out on the couch. It was too short, lumpy and uncomfortable.
There was the sound of soft, slow breathing from the bed. Angel had to smile, despite himself. Spike had never lost the human habit of breathing, even though he no longer needed to.
Time passed. Angel shifted and twisted, trying to get comfortable on the couch. His body ached still, and this was no help.
Spike muttered softly in his sleep, the covers sliding partly off him, revealing his well-muscled torso. Angel found himself looking. Studying his childe. He finally made a decision, and got up from the couch. He padded to the bed, and slipped into it, under the covers, behind Spike. Not close enough to touch, but close enough he could catch his scent. His head on the pillow, it was not long before he was heavily asleep.
Spike opened his eyes and smiled, turning to face Angel. It was a step, a small one. Perhaps they could get to like one another again. He closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.
Title: On The Loose
Fandom: Angel the Series
Prompt: Hovel
Warnings: Some implied slashiness
Rating: Teens, I guess
Summary: Angel and Spike are on the run, post NFA.
“It’s a hovel,” Angel sneered, wrinkling his nose in distaste.
“Stop being such a bloody elitist snob, you wanker,” Spike replied. “It’s a perfectly nice shack. It’s clean and weathertight. So stop complaining.” Spike strolled in, his usual confident rolling stride, and draped himself on one of the available chairs.
“All right, have it your way then.” Angel sighed. It was exhausting, trying to argue with his unruly childe. Especially since they were all the other had left. “Where are we supposed to get blood? There’s no town for at least three hundred miles.”
“There’s plenty of game about. We can hunt.”
Angel groaned and dropped heavily into the other chair. “There *had* to be someplace else we could have gone.”
“You’re an ungrateful sod, you know that?” Spike said. “We’re on the run from the bloody law firm you had to get everyone involved with, and you’re complaining because you don’t like the bolthole I set up for us. We need time for the trail to get cold, and this is the best way. No people about, not even any real roads.”
Angel made a rumbling half-growl and shrugged. “All right. So you’ve got a point.” He looked around the cabin. There was a tiny kitchenette on one side, the two chairs and a ratty threadbare couch in the middle and one large bad in the corner. He rolled his eyes at that and looked back at Spike. “So where’s the other bed?”
Spike grinned. “That’s the only one.”
Angel raised an eyebrow. “And where are *you* going to sleep?”
“On the bed. I paid for the bloody cabin with money I stole fair and square.”
“May I remind you that I am your Sire?”
Spike laughed. “May I remind you that I don’t give a rat’s arse?”
Angel growled. “I’m taking the bed, you can have the couch.”
“Fuck you, Angel. I’m on the bed. If you behave I might even share.”
Angel flexed his arms subtly, and sat up a bit in his chair. “Am I going to have to fight you for it?”
“If you like.” Spike continued his infuriating grin. “Although you remember how that worked out last time.”
Angel sat and chewed that thought over. Spike pushed up from his chair and turned on the TV. It was an ancient one, with a dial to change the channel, and antennas, not cable. Spike flipped through channels til he found something he liked, then sat back down, ignoring Angel pointedly.
Angel spent a while in uncomfortable silence. He didn’t like this, not at all. He could still feel the soreness in him from the dragon falling on him, and he knew Spike would probably kick his ass in a fight. Would Spike really fight over who got the bed? He looked at his infuriating childe and decided he probably would. He finally spoke. “I’ll take the couch then.”
Spike just chuckled. “Good.” He watched TV a while longer, then started shedding his clothes.
“What are you doing?” Angel asked.
“Getting ready for bed. Not like you haven’t seen it all before.” Spike was soon naked, sliding under the covers. He sprawled comfortably across the bed.
Angel looked over at the indolently lounging vampire. He could remember sketching him like this, naked and recumbent. Old memories pushed up and he felt a bit of sudden longing. He pushed it away and started removing his own clothes, leaving on only his boxers. He pulled a pillow and covers out of a chest, and stretched out on the couch. It was too short, lumpy and uncomfortable.
There was the sound of soft, slow breathing from the bed. Angel had to smile, despite himself. Spike had never lost the human habit of breathing, even though he no longer needed to.
Time passed. Angel shifted and twisted, trying to get comfortable on the couch. His body ached still, and this was no help.
Spike muttered softly in his sleep, the covers sliding partly off him, revealing his well-muscled torso. Angel found himself looking. Studying his childe. He finally made a decision, and got up from the couch. He padded to the bed, and slipped into it, under the covers, behind Spike. Not close enough to touch, but close enough he could catch his scent. His head on the pillow, it was not long before he was heavily asleep.
Spike opened his eyes and smiled, turning to face Angel. It was a step, a small one. Perhaps they could get to like one another again. He closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.
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Date: 2006-08-06 07:35 pm (UTC)