Title: Intrinsically Cubist
He blinked away the sweat, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, taking a moment to savor the scents that lingered on his skin. His mouth watered for more of the taste, more blood, more salt tinged kisses, more of anything that tasted like a meal and not just frozen platelets bought from the hospital’s night watchman for a five dollar bill.
Angel wanted more and for the first time in years there was someone, make that two someones, perfectly willing to give it. He plunged his tongue into Drusilla’s mouth once more, swallowing her moans as Spike crawled up her body, hands sliding over slickened curves. Spike pulled him away from Drusilla and crushed his own mouth against Angel’s lips, tongue searching for some hidden treasure in the recesses of Angel’s mouth.
Sitting on the edge of the fountain, Angel watched the steady stream of lovers strolling throughout the park, hand in hand, the occasional loner traversed the paths and the demon in Angel couldn’t help but think what an easy meal they’d make. He could almost hear Drusilla’s voice mingling with the warm California night, subtle whispers on the wind that seemed to know his every thought and urge him to take down the next person he saw. In his head she giggled on about purple colored skies and rebirth at his hands. She was so childlike in his mind that he could barely remember the curves of her body holding anything but little girl grace. He never let himself linger on those memories he most wanted to relive. Nights filled with screams and feeding, Darla and William banging at the doors, just his Dru, beautiful as...now.
“Well then, isn’t this a treat?”
The voice made Angel want to run, and he nearly did. It couldn’t be more than an echo of the words in his mind, surely Spike hadn’t managed to find him yet again, but when Angel turned towards the intruding voice, it was all too real. His beautiful Drusilla and Spike, much the same as the last time he’d seen him, a little less boot black in his hair, maybe a few pounds leaner, but no mistaking the form for a ghost now.
“Angelus!” Dru exclaimed, jumping into his arms the moment he stood as though he’d only been gone for an evening’s hunt, and not a half-century absence.
Angel tried to push her away but Dru just gripped him tighter, wrapping arms around his neck, feeling better than anything he’d touched in years, not that touching had been a common occurrence as he slipped from town to town avoiding anything remotely familiar. Now here he was, on a random Friday night with two of his greatest mistakes circling around him though he were a naughty child in need of a scolding, and not the one who had shaped them into the creatures they had become.
“How?” Angel asked, unable to form a complete sentence.
“Been a few years since we’d caught up, figured it was time.” Spike said, a slow drawl on his words as he sat on the stone slab of the fountain.
“A few,” Angel echoed.
“Yeah, didn’t take long to decide that staying back east would be a very bad idea. You’ve never seen such paranoia, worse than anything the Germans could have thought up, no rhyme or reason to it.”
“Not much better here,” Angel said, still trying to figure out how they’d found him.
“Person could hardly get a room for a night without declaring himself a patriot, swearing on his great aunt Bertha that he’d never meant McCarthy any harm and spitting on a portrait of the queen. Well weren’t about to have none of that. It was head here or back to Europe, so we figured Hollywood was good a place as any.”
Angel traced his fingers over Spike’s back, taking in the lean muscle there. In his mind Spike was always smaller, here he was in the flesh, not much thinner than Angel was now, of course he did only feed when he had to. Too much trouble to quench every thirst, so he waited longer than he ever knew he could between feedings, and he knew it showed. It had been one of the first things Drusilla had commented on, skin and bones under his clothes. He smiled at the thought now, as he felt her small hands on his thighs, pressing him against Spike. She kissed at his arms, his neck, anywhere her mouth could reach as he slid into Spike with a groan that was nearly as loud as those he made when finally releasing.
“That was very cruel of you to make poor Spike dance with the little fishies,” Drusilla said, pouting against Angel’s chest. “He still smelled of salt when he found me.”
“It was...” Angel had no excuses and knew that Dru wasn’t looking for his reply anyway. She searched his face like she was looking for secrets. Convinced that she could smell the soul on him, just as Darla had been able to half a century earlier, Angel finally managed to untangle himself from Drusilla’s grasp and lean against the fountain next to Spike, convinced that the movement lacked anything near casualness.
“When’s the picture get out?” Spike asked nodding towards the movie theatre across the road. “We’ll be able to pick a couple off pretty quick.”
It took a moment for the words to register in Angel’s mind. He constantly thought of feeding, but here he was again with vampires who weren’t just wishing, they were planning. He knew that unless he was willing to voice the facts about his soul he wouldn’t be able to stop them, and more than a small part of him didn’t even care. It was human’s who cursed him and Angel often thought the lot of humanity got what they deserved, and in this moment, watching Spike lick his lips in anticipation of the kill Angel was more tempted than ever to not only watch as the two of them took their meal, but to join them.
A wave of disgust rolled over him even as he nodded his assent that the moviegoers would make easy pickings. Drusilla was once again all over him, sitting on his lap alternately sniffing at his neck and leaning over to kiss Spike.
“It will be such fun,” Drusilla cooed, “My boys back together. We’ll feed and we’ll...” She broke into giggles and slid from Angel’s lap to Spike’s. Her constant movement made Angel laugh, still the child.
“Where you staying?” Spike asked when he was finally able to free himself from Dru’s kisses.
“The Hyperion,” Angel said, instantly wishing he had lied.
“How far’s that?”
“A few blocks.” Angel stood up, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and absently lighting it as he stared across the street as the theatre’s lobby started to fill. “Come on, I’ll show you.” Without turning back to see if the others were following, Angel cut through the park and headed towards the hotel.
“Hang on,” Spike said, coming up behind him and laying a hand on Angel’s shoulder, “Angelus? What about dinner, mate?”
“You don’t want to eat them, have you seen what they serve in there?” Angel slowed just enough to let Drusilla catch up to them. “You’d be trying to get the taste of butter out of your mouth for weeks.”
“You’ve got something better then?”
“Always.” Angel lied.
Spike arched under him, desperate to have Angel ease an itch he hadn’t known was there. It had been seven years since they’d seen each other, and to say that the Spike had craved this touch would have been the understatement of the year.
“Why’d you come?” Angel asked as he leaned down to taste the soft skin of Spike’s neck.
“Don’t know, started as a sort of craving I guess, wanting a certain taste but no matter how many people you eat you can’t quite match what your tongue’s asking for. Spent months trying to put a name to what I wanted, Drusilla was of course no help as everything tastes like the weather to her,” He smiled at Dru as she lay on the bed, teasing at her own body as she watched Angel writhe against her lover. “Knew there had to be a title to lay on that yearning, and finally somewhere around Nevada it struck me, something you said in forty-three about Los Angeles in the thirties being cold as the bulkheads of that bloody submarine. So figured we’d come see if you were here.”
“And is the craving gone?” Angel asked as he pressed deeper, reaching a hand beneath them to stroke Spike’s cock to hardness.
“Not even close,” Spike gasped, turning his head to kiss Angel.
“Don’t really see how this is better,” Spike said, inspecting the small room that Angel called home. “Couldn’t have sprung for the top floor?”
“Easier to get to the basement when there’s only two floors to get through.”
“Yeah, didn’t think a that. Planning a quick escape?”
“Usually.” Angel said, hanging his jacket on the rack.
“You’re a tough bloke to track down. We’ve been doing a damned boring tour of Middle America for nearly two years. Dru’s fallen in love with polkas of all things and insisted on staying in one of those dry boring states that begin with an ‘I’ and end with me wanting to stab a fork in my brain. It still wasn’t as dull as wandering around a war-torn Europe for six months without her had been, but all the same, dull.”
“Where’d you find her?” Angel asked, stalling as he tried to figure out what the hell he’d been thinking bringing them back to his room.
“London, always goes back to London.” Spike shot an accusing look at Angel, but just as quickly it was gone. “Oh well, nice to stop in sometimes, closest thing I’ve got to a mirror I guess.”
“Oh Willie, always the poet,” Angel laughed, taking Spike by the shoulders.
“Shove off,” Spike sneered, pushing Angel away.
“Drusilla?” Angel looked around the room, hardly surprised to find her on the bed, watching them with owl eyes and a smile that could send men to hell, and had.
“There’s nothing to eat in here Angelus, have you hidden treats?”
“Sorry Dru.” Angel sat beside her on the bed, taking her hand in his. “Forgive me?”
“My Angel, we forgive you. Don’t we Spike?” Dru asked hopefully.
“Yeah, we know you’re a bastard.” Spike smiled and shrugged off his shirt. “So what say you make it up to us.”
“I...” Angel looked from one to the other, trapped in his own room. Either he’d play along or the hotel would end up in the morning papers. “That’s what I was hoping to do.”
Drusilla was instantly on him, pulling his shirt over his head, snapping buttons and tearing at cloth in her rush to free him from his trousers. Angel set a hand on her wrist, “Dru, slow down, we’ve got all night.”
“What about dinner?” Spike asked again.
“We’ve got all night,” Angel repeated.
Moments later all three were stripped of clothes and inhibitions, naked on the bed, hands roaming over near forgotten curves and cocks. Drusilla was the first to take her pleasure, climbing atop Spike, hands roving over both men as they worked in tandem to cover every inch of her body in kisses and the rough touches she loved in equal measure.
Spike barely had a chance to recover from the assault of Drusilla’s lovemaking and Angel’s hungry tongue over his nipples and throat. The scent of Angel’s arousal drove him on, and now as he took Angel’s cock into his mouth the burning in his blood that had pushed them west was slowly ebbing only to come again at the first taste of his sire’s body. Hands at his back reminded him that his goddess was here too, no longer satisfied to lay back sated, she began preparing him for what he knew had to come if the night were to be complete.
Rolling onto all fours, Spike gave a long final stroke over Angel’s cock, glazing it over until Angel reluctantly moved off the mattress, giving up the attention of Spike’s mouth for only a moment. He kissed Spike as he passed Drusilla and placed his hands on Spike’s hips. It had been decades since he’d made love to anyone, let alone a man, and it felt like heaven to have Spike’s body grip him, pulling that little bit of life that Angel had nearly forgotten still lived inside him.
Drusilla collapsed onto the pillows, watching as Angel struggled to control himself, Spike’s shaking acceptance and bucking back making it none the easier. This room was just a place for the ghosts in his head to act out his contrition, and here he was losing himself in two of the spirits who would haunt him as long as he managed to stay alive. Angel tried to bury the thought, wanting only to enjoy the moment. It felt like a hundred others they had shared, and yet to Angel it also felt like goodbye. He knew that after this he’d never be able to invite them in again, he wasn’t even sure why he’d invited them in the first place, but here they were.
Finally unable to hold back any longer, Angel spent himself inside Spike, trailing kisses down his spine as Spike clenched around him, letting his own orgasm spill onto the bed with a near scream. They fell to the sheets beside Drusilla, sweat covered and exhausted, eyes half closed before she even had time to toss a coverlet over their bodies and kiss them goodnight like a mother tucking in her children.
Hours later they had showered and begun dressing, few words between them. Spike and Dru were near ravenous for the hunt and Angel had to talk them out of taking the first person they met in the hall.
“Fine, we’ll wait till we’re in the park. Might be harder to find three this late.” Spike said as he pulled his coat on.
“You go on, I’ll be fine for tonight.” Angel helped Drusilla into her slimming dress.
“But Angel, it won’t be the same without you.” She pouted.
“You’ve managed for fifty years Drusilla, one more night won’t be any harder.” He brushed her hair from her shoulders and gave her a light kiss before moving to the door.
“Alright, but just this once,” Dru answered, stepping into the carpeted hall.
“You sure?” Spike asked over his shoulder as he followed Drusilla.
Angel stepped into the hall and reached out to straighten Spike’s collar. “I’m good.” Angel sighed, hands still on Spike’s coat when the door across the hall cracked open and one of the many blacklisted actors that lived in the hotel slid past the trio. “Where will you go next?” Angel asked, letting his hands drop back to his sides and taking a step back.
“Back to Europe I guess, see what’s cooking there.”
“Keep her safe.” Angel said, nodding to Dru as she inspected the patterned walls.
“Yeh, always do.”
Angel stepped back inside, a final look sending shivers down his back as they entered the elevator with the actor. Closing the door Angel really hoped he wouldn’t see the hotel in the papers despite his best efforts.