Angel sighed his pleasure, letting the unnecessary rush of air stroke his lips. His lovely childe, so generous, so controlled in his wanting. Perfection of that sort deserved nothing less than the same in return. With that end in mind, Angel took in another breath. "Stand up."

Spike let go of his reverie and stood to face his Sire. Angel looked... satisfied. That was even more than Spike had hoped for. He waited patiently, weeping cock easily ignored, as Angel reached for the forgotten bag on the floor. Spike's attention stayed on Angel's face until a glimmer of endless blue-black caught his eye.

Angel held out an ocean of dark silk. Spike ran tentative fingertips over it. "I do have company occasionally," Angel murmured.

Spike glanced up at Angel. Company? Other people came here? Was Angel ashamed of his childe? Was he that ugly, that repulsive? Oh, how beneficent Angel was, then, to endure him!

Angel saw where Spike's suffering mind went with that comment. Shaking his head, he reached out to pull Spike to him. "I won't share you, Spike. Not with anyone." The dark vampire then thrust the silk garments into Spike's hands, turning away from his child to retreat into his bedroom. "Get dressed and heat up some blood," He threw over his shoulder as he disappeared.

Spike shook out the garments. Loose, almost baggy trousers and an open shirt. Spike slipped them on, shivering as silk glided across his erect flesh. The clothed draped over him loosely, barely kept on by drawstring ties and his own shoulders. The blonde shook himself out of his trance and rushed to the kitchen, not wanting to leave his Sire waiting.

The process of preparing his Sire's meal calmed Spike considerably. He lectured his recaltricant body about control, railing against his own unruly desires. He existed for his Sire, only his Sire. His body was for the pleasure of his Sire. His pleasure was for the pleasure of his Sire. There was no other way, no other reality. Once the blood, this time a blend of cow and sheep, was suitably warm, Spike prepared it for consumption and went in search of Angel.

His sweetest Sire was waiting for him in his bedroom, lounging against the bed. At Angel's gesture, Spike placed the decanter of blood on the side table. He then waited for whatever Angel would tell him to do.

Angel reached for Spike, drawing the blonde close to him. The younger vampire's silk coverings slid between them as he pressed their bodies together. Angel reached up to tilt Spike's head back, opening him for his Sire's kiss. Ah, the honey of his childe's mouth! Angel let himself slip beneath the surface, coating his senses in that smooth coolness. Spicy surrender graced his tongue and he swept deeper, looking for more of that elusive flavor. His childe, his lover, one who knew his demon and his soul in equal measure. Here, in his arms, a place he should always be.

Spike fell back, caught on Angel's arms. He was suspended in mid-air, weightless but for the press of Angel's body against his. He opened for his Sire, a vessel filled with the most delicate of strength. ::Take what you would, Sire. All that I am is designed for you, to please you, to make you. I am the flesh made word made flesh again, word made flesh made word. You make me and unmake me with every passing second. I am beauty when you find me that way and the most reviled offal when you do not. Take this that I have for you!::

Angel leaned forward, eagerness shifting him from lassitude to action. He delved deeper, ever farther, until the only light he could see was Spike's soul, a pale blue flame burning deep within the velvet blackness of his childe's demon. The demon he had given this perfect being, the reviled vampiric gift that had served to remove all but the pitch blackness from young William's existence. The soul Angel could not claim to be his doing; no, Spike had returned that to himself. Now he was illuminated from within, formed the same as his past selves but different. Angel could taste what had changed. The human William had been complex and hot in his saline-teared warmth and confused emotion, a kaleidoscope of vibrancy. The young vampire Spike was a violent swath of black, powerful in his monochrome force. The childe who had returned to him was neither of these ghosts, however. This Spike was a still water of flickering, impossibly faceted soul-blue, buried deep within inky, demonic midnight. That strange, living light illuminated even the shadows it cast. Angel was drawn to it as a moth to a flame, but when he dared touch he found himself unharmed. The heat was in the form of loving, eternal warmth; his skin begged for more of this wondrous substance.

The ferocity of Angel's kiss melted Spike until he was little more than ropy strands of desire, laying fallow-in-wait for his Sire's fertile touch. ::Sire! What I am will never cease, I cannot stop serving this, you that I love for eternity. Take, take and I shall give, for my being is for you!:: And still Spike happily endured this most gorgeous of assaults, this tender claiming. ::My pleasure is yours, Sire, take what you will. Please, Sire, do not stop, please, I beg you...::

The vibration of a broken wail caught Angel's ear as he pushed further. With a startled jerk, he realized that he had Spike bent, contorted, over his arms. His childe was spread out in a swirl of alabaster and night sky, a kiss-bruised, liquid-eyed offering upon the altar Angel was creating for him. Angel was struck the intensity, the sheer magnitude, of his desire for this creature. He didn't just want to touch Spike, or even lay him down and sink inside that welcoming body. He craved a newfound completion with this other half of himself. Lust was a pale, weak word for this feeling because it implied a hollowness Angel did not feel. This had nothing to do with physical satiety. Angel's very soul needed this, needed Spike. This Sire needed his childe.

Spike felt the loss as Angel stripped away the silk separating them. Then he was falling again, this time onto the bed as Angel turned them and let the leaves of his childe's tree flutter to a soft cotton forest floor. The heavier, dark green and glossy canopy that was Angel came down to give shelter to this delicate being even as Angel's hands worked to put him back together.

The incredible sensation of love washed over Spike as Angel let them touch. Skin so familiarly cool lit him afire, burning with a heat so entrapping, like Medusa's gaze. Spike was the ragged butterfly in Angel's silken web, caught but willingly so, waiting for his first and last master, please come o lord and remake me in your image! ::You honor me, Sire, with your hands. You bring me to being, out of the shadows of hope and waiting, with each caress. If I live to the end of sorrow itself I will never earn this boon you have given me.::

Angel buried his face in Spike's neck, wanting nothing more than to sink his cock and his fangs into this vessel who had offered himself up with a teardrop and a whispered 'Sire.' The next second whispered in Angel's ear that what he wanted was what Spike wanted too, was what the young childe was waiting for, was praying for with each gasp of useless air. Angel reached blindly over, needing something to settle between them, something to diffuse this intensity. Spike's skin was burning through him, touching every nerve in his body with the strongest acid a heart ever cried.

Spike couldn't restrain his cry when warm, viscous liquid struck his chest. His eyes shot open in time to see a crimson stream splash down upon him, coating him with slippery life. He watched, eyes curious and expectant, as Angel drew one finger through the lake of existence on his body.

Angel stared, fascinated, at the contrast of alabaster and crimson that was his childe. He traced one smooth pectoral, drawing a pale pink line through the cooling blood. That coated finger came up to his lips, where he washed away the evidence. The first taste of childe-flavored blood flooded his tongue. Spike was ever the delicacy, making the plainest of offal into a rare vintage. Entranced by that unique property of his blessed offspring, Angel bent his dark head to that seductive body, craving more of that heady taste.

"Angel!" Spike cried as his Sire laved at his sensitive skin. The pleasure on his Sire's face was obvious and Spike felt his unbeating heart falter. He was pleasing his Sire, giving him pleasure. Angel was taking his pleasure, as was his right. Spike was lost, drowning in those dark eyes. His capitulation was complete and utter; there was no part of him left in reserve. This was his Sire who would cradle him in his arms forever. ::Thank you, Sire, for this my life you have given me.::

Angel felt a change in Spike; something had broken free. The pale vampire arched under Angel's ministrations, not holding back anything. Every response, every cry, belonged to Angel. The dark vampire accepted them graciously, as he did everything Spike gave him. The blonde handed over his pleasure, his need and his love, all of which Angel treasured and returned tenfold. Slowly, ever so slowly, they moved together, in concert. Angel moved and removed the redness between them, sliding aching fingers inside the infinite tightness of his childe's body. Spike trembled at the touch, so new after so many decades of chastity.

Spike's legs fell open as Angel prepared him, slicking that grasping place. ::Please, Sire, please, I will beg, I will plead at you feet! Take of me, be inside me, open me for you, take your place inside me, where you belong, where you have never left!:: Slender hips canted up, physically asking for more, for whatever Angel would give him.

Angel leaned forward to capture that sinless mouth one more time, needing more, needing to consume his childe again and again. It seemed the more he took, the more there was to touch, the more there was to want. His own body was betraying him, demanding in its most strident voice to be joined with the heaven that waited underneath him. Were it not for the fact that Spike so obviously wanted the same thing, Angel would have ordered his body to cease its clawing and shouting.

Spike was floating on his Sire's kiss, letting the presence of that glorious tongue soothe him, when he felt the first pressure, the telling sign. His very last death nearly came upon him as Angel slid inside, joining together what never should have been separated. ::Where once I was broken, empty, wanting, now I am completed, whole. I am, where I formerly was not. I have been made again, yet again, twice in one eternity by my Sire!::

Angel was transfixed by the ecstasy on his childe's face. That Spike could want this so much was almost beyond his comprehension. Words, unbidden but not untrue, fell as leaves to join Spike on their shared altar. "Mon amant, mom coeur, my perfect childe," Angel whispered into Spike's ear, words sliding down like water. "Mon âme, is this what you wanted, what you needed? To have me inside you, taking you?"

"Sire," Spike begged, body saying far more than lips. ::I need you, need this, Please, take pleasure in me. Do you will, that it may be my will as well.:: "Sire, I love you, only you, forever..."

"J'ai besoin de toi, Spike," Angel bore down, trying to crawl inside his childe, to reach that unbearable, irresistible light he knew was just beyond reach. "Stay with me, Spike, pour l'éternité. You belong to me."

"Yours, I am yours, tu es tout pour moi," Spike could not staunch the flow of words, of unrepentant begging that poured forth from his soul. "You are my rapture, my anguish, Sire! I am made and unmade by you, please, Sire, accept me..."

Angel heard his childe and knew that he was finally hearing Spike's soul speaking, calling out in whispers and screams. "Tu m'appartiens, je te possède tout entier. Mine, Spike. Never leave, you can never leave, never leave," He chanted, fangs finally descending. He had to, needed to, couldn't *not* do this, take his childe as he'd first been taken. Deeper and surer than sex, more meaningful.

Spike watched as his Sire changed, shifting to reveal a different but equally beloved face. The younger vampire felt his own countenance shift, control fleeing in the presence of overwhelming desire. "Ai besoin de moi, sauve-moi. Please, Sire. Please..." His pale head tipped back, exposing a midnight-banded throat for his Sire's delectation.

"Forever, Spike, you belong to me," Angel cried as he struck. Strong, sure ivory parted alabaster skin, just above Angel's display of ownership. Desire-heated blood spilled forth, wantonly reaching for Angel as both Sire and childe strained for completion. As nearly painful pleasure replaced the substance of his body, Angel's soul reached out, meeting Spike's halfway. Through blood and come and cries and tears they met and twined together, cold fire and placid rage marrying in a ceremony of rapture and anguish.

::I am. Now, only now, do I exist. This my Sire he has come to me, in me.:: "Angel, Angel, Love you, Angel, I love you, love you, love you, love, love..." Spike's voice faded as pleasure so complete it overtook reality as the centre of the universe crashed into his mind, pushing his soul out to meet Angel's. Once there those two souls mated, kissed softly in understanding. Together, they were one-not-one, all-in-nothingness.

Whole.