Blood Brothers

Spike/Wesley

FRAO

Summary: Rain, battle, sex.

Spoilers: AU NFA

Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be, no infringement intended, no profit, just for fun.

Distribution: my LJ, my site, elsewhere just ask,

Beta: my goddess Antennapedia. Thank you for doing that thing you do so well. Any mistakes left are my own.

Author’s notes: written for hotspur18 and the 2^nd Wesley round of maleslashminis. She wanted rain, h/c without noncon or character death. Well, it is post NFA so the second was a tad unavoidable, but hopefully I delivered.

Rain poured from the heavens as if an apocalypse wasn’t already obstacle enough. On Spike’s left, Gunn wound a blood soaked cloth around his waist. On his right, Angel wiped his hands on rain soaked pants before gripping his sword and testing the balance. Spike paced back and forth, wishing he had time for a smoke. Would Blue and Percy show? Something thumped behind him, loud on the street. The chain link fence rattled and Spike turned. Illyria.

“Wesley is dead.”

But behind her, another figure vaulted the fence, splashing into a puddle as it landed.

“Yes, yes, very funny, Illyria.”

The scent of death carried on the wind and that familiar twang of family hit Spike hard. He turned to Angel who barely nodded.

“Welcome to the family.”

Gunn stared. “English is….”

“Yes, he is. Heads up, they’re coming,” Angel said.

The horde barreled down the alley. Vampires, demons of every shape and size, some that Spike didn’t recognize. They carried swords, axes, stakes and torches. The roar of a dragon overhead distracted him for a second. Spike bounced on his feet, ready. He’d died twice already, what was one more time?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Wesley swung his axe with inhuman strength. The demon's bones shattered under the blow. Blood gushed. Wesley breathed in the scent and marveled. It was as if he were experiencing the world for the first time.

And to think he’d been reluctant when Angel made the offer.

He still had his soul, but not the time to do anything as a vampire that he might feel guilty about. While he’d done things as a human he wasn’t proud of, it didn’t grate on his soul. At least this meant he wouldn’t spend all his time brooding as Angel had done. Another swing, another demon downed and more came.

“Watch it.”

Wesley dodged Spike. Spike had blood spattered on his face and a wide and feral grin. He looked as if he were exactly where he wanted to be. Illyria was still going, doing the violence she craved. Wesley spared a moment to think of Fred. She would have fought by their side, but never with such abandon. Charles….Wesley looked around but couldn’t spy his former friend. Most likely he was down, but Wesley had no time to mourn. The screech of the dragon drew his gaze away from the fight. It was flying straight for Angel. And his sire was waiting, sword in hand. The beast opened it large mouth.

“Angel, look out! It ….”

The flames came before Wesley had time to finish. Angel ducked but was burned badly. Wesley saw Angel fall to the ground and faltered in his own fight. The demon he was facing took advantage and thrust a dagger into his side. The demon lost his head. Wes turned to see that Spike was fighting his way towards where Angel fell. Wesley spared a moment for a glimmer of hope that Angel would survive. However the apocalypse would wait for no one. Wesley lifted his axe and waded into the fray.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Smoke. Blood. Death. The alley where they'd fought reeked with it. The corpses of demons and worse things lay in heaps around it. But the horde was dead. Finally.

Spike hefted the backpack full of expired blood-bags liberated from the hospital dumpster and skirted the dead, heading for the Hyperion, where he'd left Wesley unconscious. Spike wasn't sure how either of them had survived. Not surprisingly Gunn hadn't. As for Angel-- Angel had fallen, only to rise again just as Spike had reached him. Spike had known from the scent right away. Angel had finally achieved his ambition. Lucky bastard.

Illyria had taken the two of them away, Gunn's torn corpse and Angel's befuddled living body. She'd talked to Spike before leaving.

“I shall honor Charles and care for Angel. That is all you need to know, half-breed. Now go tend to Wesley. Perhaps I will see you in the future.”

Those were her last words.

Spike spooked the carrion birds as he pushed past rotting flesh to get to the back door. There was just enough of the building left to provide shelter until Wes was strong enough to leave. He made his way to the lobby.

“Spike?”

Wes was waking. Spike hurried over to the counter, where he’d propped Wes up.

“M’here. Went to get some blood.” He tore open a bag and placed it against Wesley’s mouth. “Drink.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lukewarm and metallic, the blood slipped past his lips, tasting faintly off. But Wesley drank anyway, knowing that without it he would die. He opened an eye to look at Spike, wondering why he was looking after him. None of the diaries mentioned that William the Bloody as caring. But then, they hadn’t noted Angel’s curse either, so Wesley knew he shouldn’t take stock in anything the Council had to say.

“Thank you,” Wesley said after he swallowed, wiping at the corner of his mouth.

“S’alright.”

Wesley watched as Spike took another bag for himself. He was all the family Wesley had left. Something told him that Angel would not remember the last two hundred plus years of his existence. He chuckled at the irony of a Watcher considering a vampire family. But he wasn’t a Watcher anymore and most days he doubted he’d ever really been one.

Spike pulled out a package of cigarettes and tapped one out. “What’s so funny?”

“You. Me. Us.”

Spike lit the cigarette and inhaled. He spoke through the smoke. “Yeah, never figured that you’d agree to be turned.”

“It was our only chance of getting through all of this.”

Spike snorted. “Right. That’s the tale Peaches spun so he could bite you.”

“Come again?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t see it?”

“I am relatively certain I have no idea what you’re referring to.” Wesley pulled his feet under him, pushing off the floor and into a standing position. “We should find out if any of the rooms survived, or perhaps the basement. Dawn is coming.”

Spike swished upwards, moving with a grace acquired from over a century of unlife. Wesley wondered if he would have that grace one day. Assuming he survived that long. Wesley watched as Spike came closer, almost cat like. It was obvious to Wesley how Spike attracted his victims so easily.

“He wanted you.”

“Who?”

“Angel. You really are thick. So you and him never….?”

“No, never.” Wesley pushed at Spike, but he wouldn’t budge, moving closer into Wesley’s personal space, backing him up against the counter. “Did you and he…?”

“Once.”

Wesley swallowed. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Spike was close enough Wesley could smell the cigarette and blood. “Wanna taste?”

Wesley started to shake his head, but Spike swooped in. The kiss was hard, desperate, and neither backed away from it. Wesley gripped Spike’s arms as Spike pulled him closer. Wesley ground himself hard against Spike. And as with the battle earlier, Wesley felt as if he were experiencing this for the first time as well. He finally understood Spike’s philosophy of fucking and fighting and drinking and fucking again. Spike growled, shifted and bit him, fangs sliding painlessly into Wesley’s neck.

Just the sensation of the bite triggered Wesley’s orgasm and he groaned against Spike’s shoulder. Spike held on as he too found release. Then he withdrew his teeth and licked the wound closed. They sagged against one another, sliding slowly back down to the floor.

“Sun. Rising. Shelter,” Wesley stated, finally rolling Spike off of him.

“Right. C’mon.”

Spike pulled Wesley up with him as they wobbled towards the basement door. Wesley stopped them before they ventured down the stairs.

“Was this a one time thing?”

“Hope not, Percy. You’re a marvelous shag.”

Spike grinned and gave Wesley a hand into the dark.