Twenty miles before Sunnydale it occurred to Wesley Wyndham-Pryce that perhaps he should have left a note or something.

Tearing off on one’s motorcycle, recently fixed, would most likely send Cordelia on the warpath once she noticed his absence. If she noticed, Wesley considered grimly as he concentrated on the road rather than his cheerful thoughts.

For weeks his undead employer had been grumpy, angry, and far too sleepy for a creature that slept almost twenty hours out of every twenty-four. At a loss as to this new narcoleptic Angel, Wes threw his hands up at his own books and took to the open road.

This mission would accomplish two tasks. One: he could get away from Cordelia’s griping, Gunn’s disgusting competence with weaponry, and Angel’s new snarky temper. Two: Wesley might be able to discover why Angel had discovered a new love for lounging in the library of Rupert Giles00000.

Ah, almost there. An unwilling smile graced Wesley’s windblown cheeks where the helmet did not protect him. Familiar Sunnydale, annoyingly so. The home to most of his failures on all fronts of his being, as Watcher, as friend, as lover, and as a man. Down that path lay serious depression, and why had he thought this was such a good idea? As his brain grappled with that, some part not thinking about good reasons to come back to the mouth of hell registered that the bike was sputtering.

Sputtering grew into a coughing which resulted in a loud conk, and a slow deceleration of the vehicle. Wesley muttered under his breath about shoddy American craftsmanship and eased off the bike, wincing at the slight soreness in his thighs. Didn’t matter how many times he drove his beast, it still set his thighs to trembling.

He looked around with some dismay at his surroundings. One of the town’s many busy traffic cemeteries. And it was very dark and very not safe to be wandering around the Hellmouth at such an hour armed with nothing more than a cross and one measly stake. Wesley whipped out his cell phone and began to dial Mr. Giles’ number when a low, menacing chuckle emanated from a large tomb to his left.

A finger paused over the number nine on the dial pad as Wesley peered into the darkness, trying to discern what had chuckled.

"Whatever would the Watcher’s Council say? A real Watcher would never get caught out so late without one of their little bitches to protect them, now would they? Whatsa matter? Lose yours?" A lean figure emerged from behind a white marble tomb, black leather melting into the dark night, only the face and hair standing in relief against all that darkness.

"William the Bloody." Wesley breathed the words, clutching at his cell phone as he considered his options. Now, why couldn’t he have met up with a weak little minion? Oh, no, he just had to encounter the second nastiest male vampire of all time, right under his Boss.

But hadn’t Angel said something about a chip? Yes! Angel had relayed information to he and Cordelia about the blonde’s neutered condition. This Initiative group had rendered William the Bloody, or Spike, harmless to all living creatures.

Wesley started laughing, a little giggle which grew into a full out hysterical howl as he pondered the implications of such a fact. Quite funny, really, when everything was considered. Who needs a Orb of Thesulah when you’ve got the computer age?

"Look, ya ponce, don’t go laughing at me! I’ll kick your arse into the ground, I will!"

"Oh, really? And how will you do that? I believe your impotence will greatly impede your arse kicking for some time now." Wesley snorted at the consternation that crossed Spike’s face. Poor dear, he appeared quite unhappy with his current condition.

The blonde vampire began to pace in front of Wesley, gesturing wildly with his hands.

"Fucking whore and her bloody friends! Can’t believe they defeat me, they can’t even find their arses without getting help from the Watcher. I bet they’re the ones giving me the dreams, I tell you it’s not natural for a vampire to love a slayer, and if it’s one thing I’m not, it’s an unnatural fop like my bleedin’ Sire."

Wesley blinked. It would appear that Spike did not care for Angel. Dreams? Perhaps these dreams had something to do with Angel’s sleeping issues.

"Little harpy isn’t satisfied with tormenting my waking hours, oh no, she has to pursue my dreams, only place where I still have the chance to rip her throat out and suck the marrow from her cute little bones."

Startled, Wesley watched with wide eyes as Spike strode over to him. The vampire grasped Wesley’s black leather jacket in his hands and shook the former Watcher roughly.

"I don’t love her, I don’t, I can’t." Madness boiled in those pale blue eyes, pale like a robin’s egg. A spark leapt into Spike’s eyes a split second before he lowered his face to Wesley’s and kissed the other man.

Oh my. These were the only words flashing across Wesley’s unusually blank mind as Spike’s tongue did delicately erotic things to the roof of his mouth. The vampire broke the kiss, and looked into Wesley’s gray-blue eyes.

"I’ll show the bloody Slayer that I’ll do what I want, with who I want, when I want." Spike bared his teeth in a feral smile and swooped back in for another kiss.

Wesley’s last truly coherent thought was ‘I must ask Angel if he taught Spike everything he knows.’ He swam in the kiss, buffeted by the most powerful feeling of illicit pleasure he had ever experienced. Their tongues battled, teeth nipping, mouths working erotic magic. Spike sucked hard on the tongue deep in his mouth, and Wesley felt an answering tug deep in his belly. His cock rose, yes, hello, I rather liked that.

A laughing groan from Spike and the infamous vampire snaked his left hand down between them and manipulated Wesley’s cock underneath the layers of cotton. With the back of his hand, Spike ground against Wesley’s erection while cupping his own. Hands struggled with removing jackets and shirts and soon the Roguish Demon Hunter felt cool night air raise his already sensitive nipples into harder peaks.

He panted as Spike nibbled around his mouth and down his throat, worrying Wesley’s pulse with his teeth. Down and down, Spike laved a wet trail of icy flame, burning cold down to one raised nipple. With a delighted growl, the vampire bit down on the peak, making the pale, but warm body of Wesley Wyndham-Pryce heave in helpless response to the stimuli.

Spike kneeled before Wesley with reverence. Shocked at the sudden loss of contact, Wesley emitted a growl of his own as he watched the vampire almost rip the jeans off of his own hips and then push Wesley’s down. The tip of a cold, undead tongue flitted up Wesley’s jutting cock before Spike sank down onto the manhood, working the cock like an accomplished whore.

It felt unbelievably good. Wesley was convinced that someone was pulling his brain out through his cock and he could have cared less. At the moment, he cared only about getting Spike’s tongue to never stop butting up against the underside of his cock. When a small finger thrust into Wesley’s anus, hunting for and finding his prostate, Wesley whimpered.

The whimper changed into a cry of protest when Spike summarily withdrew from Wesley’s bobbing, saliva damp cock. Spike patted Wesley’s passion reddened cheek and turned to brace arms against the nearest tomb and present his perfectly rounded arse to the do-gooder.

Temporarily stunned by the sudden change in events, Wesley quickly caught on. Blow jobs were all well and good, but Wesley hadn’t fucked a man for too many years. If nothing else, Eton and Oxford had given the young future Watcher a chance to explore all of his sexual options. Giving felt just as good as receiving, be the partner male or female.

Wesley placed the throbbing head of his cock at the amazingly small, dark rose entrance to Spike’s body and hesitated. Never had he taken someone in this fashion without preparation, and he didn’t really want to hurt Spike…yet. A snarl from Spike accompanied a short, succinct command.

"Fuck me."

Sir, yes, sir, right away, sir. Never disobey a vampire who will bend over for you. Wesley hissed as he rammed just the first few pulsing inches of his cock into the tight clenching space of Spike’s cold inner flesh. He’d never felt anything quite like this before, cold, unyielding, but it begged to be hurt, to be penetrated. As if under a spell, Wesley lost all reason, all desire to make the act ‘good’ for Spike. A high-pitched scream howled from Wesley’s mouth as he drove into Spike’s body and felt the flesh tear, and blood well up inside the vampire.

Slimy sluggish blood slicked the way as Wesley hammered into Spike. His hands crept around the vampire’s body, finding purchase on both hips and face. Wesley’s right hand traced the demonic ridges covering his lover’s forehead. Spike moaned and rubbed against the hand, moans and grunts signaling the scenting of his own blood.

All too soon, Wesley shouted, his hot mortal seed flooding Spike’s back passage until the white foamy stuff came bubbling out as Wesley rode out his orgasm. Again, the act shifted dramatically. Spike wheeled around and slammed his body into Wesley’s, their mouths meeting in a violently passionate kiss. Then, down on his knees, Spike licked the diminishing rod of his own blood and Wesley’s semen, smacking his lips after finishing.

Wesley blearily looked down at Spike, noting that Spike’s cock thrust out from a dark nest of hair, ragingly hard and unfulfilled.

He smiled. Couldn’t hurt to brush up on one’s skill set; after all, one never knew when one might need certain skills.

Wesley pushed Spike onto his back and licked around the fat head of Spike’s cock. Long, and fairly thin, the member had a knobby thick head, with a huge dark blue vein running down the middle. Wesley’s tongue played with the vein, pushing it as far as he could to each side until Spike thrust up, wanting more. A chuckle and Wesley formed his mouth into a small ‘o’ over the cock head and sucked. Hard.

An airless, soundless scream from Spike let Wes know that he was on the right track. Wes worked his way down the cock until he had most of it enveloped by his lava hot mouth. Fast and quick, Spike’s orgasm came, crashing over his body as he shook and thrashed. Wesley guzzled the cold spunk, delighting in the spicy coppery taste, so different from mortal sperm. Then again, vampire sperm wasn’t active, and likely had some sort of connection with a vampire’s food source – blood.

Luxuriating in their orgasms, the two lovers flopped on the ground, too content and pleased to move. Eventually, however, Wesley’s human needs asserted themselves and he rose shakily, gathering his lost clothing items to his body and placing them in their appropriate places. He watched as Spike stretched out on the dirt, naked and covered in blood and semen, a goofy smile on the vampire’s face. Wesley thought about saying something, but beyond, ‘thanks for the fuck, have a nice night’ he couldn’t think of much.

Wesley made his way back to his bike. Perhaps he ought to find a motel and take a shower before meeting Rupert. Gods only knew, that man had ways of knowing things that he didn’t really need to know. Shagging bleached blonde vampires definitely did not rate high on a Watcher’s to-do list, even ex-Watchers. It rather went against the calling.

With a soft sigh, Wesley breathed in his scent, mingled with Spike’s, as he made his way to the closest motel to wash away all traces of his encounter with the cocky, arrogant Childe of his souled employer.

No one need know of the encounter. Especially not Angel.