Title: Which came first?
Dedicated to rockstarpeach. Just because. *g*
Spike grumbled and stomped his way through the hallways at W&H, completely pissed off at Angel, as usual. The damned poof and his damned bossy arse, always demanding that Spike go here and go there, kill this and kill that. Didn’t he know Spike had better things to do? Hadn’t he ever seen any internet porn? There was so much out there for Spike to discover, but Nooooooo…He had to go kill something. His life sucked. And not in the good way.
Wesley’s office door was open, and the man was sitting behind his desk. There were books piled everywhere, and Wesley was moving his hands back and forth between them, muttering under his breath.
“Yo, Percy, one vampire killing machine at your service, as commanded.”
Wesley barely looked up from his texts, but grunted an acknowledgement even as he continued to mutter. “This can’t be right. I must be reading it wrong. But even the Ancient Sumerian dialects concur, and the demonic origins of the word trace back to…hmm. No, I’ll check another source.”
Spike just collapsed into the chair, waiting for Wes to work out whatever it was he was doing. Hey, maybe the demon would be gone by the time they got there and he’d be home in time for a nice porn-filled evening. Those straight boys gone gay sites were really tripping his trigger. And there was supposed to be a new post soon, not that he was tracking it or anything.
“Damn.” Spike looked up when Wesley slammed his book closed with a curse.
“What’s the deal, Perc?”
Wesley shook his head and grabbed his jacket. “Couldn’t they worship something else? I mean, couldn’t there possibly be anything else in the world worthy of worship? Okay, I admit, I have seen a few spectacular ones in my day that I wouldn’t mind worshiping, but an entire cult? It’s absurd!”
Spike followed the muttering Watcher down the hall and onto the elevator. When Wesley jabbed the buttons irritably, Spike wisely decided to keep his mouth shut. Hell, no he wouldn’t. “What do they worship, anyway?”
Wesley looked at Spike and rolled his eyes. “I refuse to answer. You’ll find out soon enough.”
Well, that just wasn’t going to work. Spike followed Wesley as he stormed to a vehicle and slid into the driver’s seat. He started to grumble about not being able to drive, but one look from Wesley had him sliding into the passenger seat. Besides, easier to grill the guy on what the big deal was if he didn’t have to worry about killing him.
“Come on, Perc..er, Wesley. How’m I supposed to kill it if you won’t tell me what it is?”
Wesley clenched the steering wheel tighter. “Just remember that this is serious, Spike. These people are trying to raise a demon.”
“They’re worshipping, well, the penis.”
“Oh, that’s perfect! I’ll fit right in. Sure we have to kill ‘em? Hell, Wes, you’ve never seen what I’m packin’ but I assure you that it deserves its own cult for worship.”
“Spike, this is serious.”
“Damn straight it’s serious.”
“Demon, Spike. Demon who apparently likes to eat….I can’t finish that sentence without getting violently ill.”
Spike was quiet, too. That was disturbing on a level he didn’t want to think about.
“Yes, apparently. And they raise a demon that requires the consumption of quite a number of…them. I feel quite ill.”
Spike did, too. “Drive faster, man. Maybe we’ll get there in time to save…them.”
Wesley complied, and the car moved at astonishingly high speeds through the crowded streets. If Spike wasn’t so disturbed by the thought of what they might be walking into, he’d be impressed. They squealed to a stop outside a warehouse—of course it was a warehouse—and Spike jumped out, ready to do some damage.
There was a cacophony of noises coming from inside: screaming, chanting, squawking. Squawking? That couldn’t be good. Wesley saw his look of horror and grabbed his weapons quickly. They ran for the entrance, Spike forcing the door open with one well placed kick.
They froze the moment they stepped inside, as did the room’s occupants. Wesley was horrified. Spike was, well, on the floor. Laughing. Wesley wasn’t sure if it was because of the ridiculous yellow, feathered costumes the so-called worshipers were wearing, or because of the giant chicken in a bucket that they were all bowing down to. Even Wesley could see the humor in this situation.
By the time the men came to their senses, Spike had regained some semblance of control and was able to help Wesley defend himself. Oh, the vampire was still laughing harder than Wesley had ever seen anyone laugh, but he was beating a swath through the feathers at the same time.
The men were all unconscious and tied up, their books confiscated and their…prey…released. Wesley walked back to the car and leaned against its side, head shaking in wonder. There was NO way he’d messed up the translation that much. It was impossible. A researcher of his caliber did not misinterpret a chicken worshiping cult for a…cock worshiping one. The word was slang, and wasn’t used until much past the dates he’d been researching.
Plus, it was an honest mistake. He never used that term. It never really thought of his...organ…that way. Shivering at the horrors he’d thought to witness, Wesley placed a protective hand over his crotch. If there ever was a mistake to make, though, Wesley supposed he didn’t mind not having to see what he’d thought to see.
Spike was still laughing when he came out, his pockets bulging with Lord knows what that he’d looted from the interior. Wesley had stopped arguing with him about his sticky-fingered tendencies after their third or fourth mission when he realized that it would never do any good.
He saw Wesley’s hand covering the goods, and his eyes were drawn there. All that laughing had made him a bit horny, released endorphins or whatever. Besides, he was out of the office and there was no porn to be had, and damned if Percy didn’t look hot all leaning against the car with his hand over his dick.
Wesley realized Spike was watching him and jerked his hand away. Spike’s eyes didn’t move, though, and lingered just below his waist. Spike stalked forward with a predatory gleam, and Wesley scooted sideways, heading around the front of the car.
Spike was faster. Wesley found his legs pinned against the front bumper by Spike’s, who had stepped impossibly close. “So, Percy, I’m suddenly feeling the urge for a different kind of cock worship. You game?”
Embarrassing as it was, Wesley meeped. Then he cleared his throat and tried again. Nope, still a meep.
Apparently, in Spike-speak, a meep was considered a positive response. He grinned before dropping to his knees, and his fingers slickly dealt with the fastenings of Wesley’s pants. There was another meep when Wesley was bared to the night air, and yet another when Spike leaned forward and sucked his soft member into his cool mouth.
“Oh, my.” It wasn’t much of a response, but it was the best he could come up with under current conditions. Spike was quite talented, using lips and teeth and tongue just perfectly to make the most delicious suction Wesley had ever felt. He leaned back, shifting his legs just slightly further apart and let his hands drift to Spike’s head.
Wesley hardened quickly, and Spike pulled back to take a good look at him now that he was fully aroused. “Very impressive, Watcher. You’re worthy of a bit of worship as well.” Wesley felt himself starting to blush, but Spike didn’t notice because he’d leaned forward again, this time pulling one of Wesley’s balls into his mouth.
That was just extraordinary. Wesley stopped trying to think, trying to reason why this was such a bad idea and just let Spike do his thing. Spike’s mouth switched to his other ball, giving it equal attention, and Wesley stopped thinking altogether.
Spike moaned, sliding down his own zipper. Wesley let his eyes drift down, watching the vampire’s mouth move back up to his length even as the Spike’s hands were making quick work of stripping his own member.
It was more than Wesley could handle, and he tightened his grip on Spike’s hair, finally giving into temptation and pushing his hips forward and back into the tunnel Spike created for him. Spike increased his suction, moaning each time Wesley pushed deeper into his mouth. Wesley started to shudder, feeling his arousal begin to overwhelm him.
Spike pulled back just a bit, wrapping his lips tightly around the tip of Wesley’s erection. One last suck and Wesley was bucking and crying out as he came in hard spurts. When he was spent, he collapsed back onto the hood of the car.
Spike stood and adjusted Wesley’s pants with a smirk. “How’s that for cock worship, huh, Percy?”
Wesley grumbled, his thoughts still incoherent.
“Yeah, I’m drivin’ back mate.” He hustled Wesley around, practically carrying him to the passenger side and shoving him into the car. Wesley was still out of it by the time they made it back to his apartment. Spike just guided him inside and to his couch.
Without a word, he was gone. Spike sped back over to W&H, tapping his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel. He was out of the car moments after parking it in the garage and on his way to the basement of the building.
He walked quickly, trying not to draw too much attention to himself as he made it to Files and Records. “Hello, pet. Remember that favor you did for me last week?”
The clerk did that creepy eyes-flipping thing that she did and nodded. “Of course, Spike. The one where you said, ‘Hello, pet. Fancy doing a favor for me and playing a little trick on ole Percy?’”
Spike shuffled his feel guiltily. “Er, yeah. That one. See, the trick worked, so now I think we need to undo all that stuff.”
“Certainly. One moment.” Her eyes flickered and her fingers flew over her keyboard. “There. All naughty words that you had me insert into Mr. Wyndam-Pryce’s books have been removed and the research is now back to its original state.”
“Thanks, luv. You’re a lifesaver. Now, you think we might erase this transaction ever taking place? You know, just in case someone gets to poking around.”
She tilted her head sideways and smiled. “I’m sorry, sir. That’s not possible. I am Files and Records, after all.”