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Subspace
toobusy2write

NC-17 Angel/Spike, Spike/others

Days after Spike turns eighteen, he gets sucked into a whole new world by a mysterious man, but is it one he's ready for?

Warnings for: 18yo Spike in a BDSM relationship with an older man

beta'd by thatotherperv
See Disclaimer of Ownership here

Notes: Subspace (generally speaking, I'll get into specifics later in the story) is a BDSM term used to describe a heightened state of pleasure that most believe is caused by a rush of endorphins produced during a scene.



Chapter Fifteen

By Tuesday evening -- the day Angel was due back -- Spike was going insane with the need to get off. He looked back on Sunday in that shower, at how sure he was that he was in hell and would have laughed if he wasn't currently so horny and frustrated he could cry. He hadn't any comprehension of what he was in for at that point. He bloody well knew now, though, and he was more than ready for it to be over.

In fact, as he raced through the paintball maze, hunting down his friends without mercy and picking them off one by one, he was seriously considering ripping Angel's kit off and having his way with him the minute he got him alone.

But…the git had to call him first.

Spike dove for cover as a paint ball whizzed by his shoulder. Peaking around the corner, he waited the bloke out -- a friend of a friend -- and smirked when predictably, the guy got antsy and peeked out himself. Spike pulled the trigger and got him in the shoulder. Cursing accompanied the shot and Spike turned and headed off in the other direction, looking for more prey. Just as Spike turned a corner, senses on alert, his pocket vibrated, making him nearly jump out of his skin.

"Buggering…." he muttered, trailing off as he pulled his mobile from his pocket anxiously, heart skipping a beat when he saw it was a text from Angel, hoping that meant he was back and wanted him to come to the condo.

Spike opened it and nearly hit something as he read the message, unable to believe Angel was this sadistic. Find somewhere to be alone. Now.

Spike stared at the text, wondering if he could ignore it and just tell Angel he'd done as instructed. He knew he couldn't, though. He'd end up blurting out what he'd done to Angel at some point, and while the thought of being locked in a chastity belt for a week turned him the fuck on, the reality of it would probably drive him round the bleedin' bend if only three days without coming had him at the point where he was ready to pull out his own hair.

True, he was deliberately bringing himself to the brink over and over at Angel's orders, which wouldn't be something he could do while locked in a belt, but he'd looked them up on the internet Sunday afternoon and found out that just because a bloke couldn't get hard locked up like that, didn't mean he couldn't get aroused and get sexually frustrated because he couldn't get hard or get off. In fact, he'd learned it was possible to get off anally without getting hard, but it usually left the person frustrated rather than satisfied. And after these last three days, Spike suspected that Angel would have no problem fucking him while in one, over and over, and getting him all worked up with no release in sight.

So no, ignoring the order wasn't an option. Resigned, and just a little excited in spite of himself, Spike texted back. Yes, Angel. Tucking his mobile away, Spike made his way out of the maze to the bathroom, knowing he was most likely giving up his sure win as a result.

Hurriedly, he found an empty stall and slipped inside. He pulled off his protective back and chest guard, elbow pads, helmet and neck guard, balancing them precariously on the back of the toilet. Clenching his jaw, he unfastened his jeans and slid them down over his cock and balls, freeing them. He stared down at himself, scowling at his traitorous cock which was already half hard. Seemed that over the last day or so, every time his mobile vibrated he started to get hard in anticipation. Bloody brilliant, that.

He hadn't been kidding. It might be twisted and perverse, but the fact was, he liked being at Angel's beck and call like this, his level of arousal dictated by a simple text. Not to mention that every time Angel texted him it meant he was on Angel's mind, and Spike liked that most of all.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he stood with feet braced apart and wrapped his hand around his cock -- his over-stimulated, extra-sensitive cock. He hissed and paused for a moment, letting the sensations die back a little, then began wanking himself, unable to help the soft moan that escaped his lips. He just hoped the other stall, which he'd forgot to check, was empty or he'd be giving someone an earful very soon. At this point, he couldn't do quiet if he tried.

Soon, he was getting into it, despite his reluctance to start, and began thrusting into his hand, rolling his balls with the other. He groaned as softly as he could, thumbing the tip of his weeping cock on every up stroke, pressing on the underside of his erection on every down stroke. He was getting close already; no real surprise there considering this was the third time today he was doing this. He was nearly in a permanent state of arousal, truth be told.

"Bloody sadistic bastard," he muttered under his breath.

Needing more stimulation so he could get close enough to quit sooner rather than later, he let go of his balls and reached around behind him to finger his plug, pressing and pushing it back and forth, up and down, gasping as it rubbed over his prostate again and again. Yeah, that was the stuff. He'd be at the edge in no time. Finally, amid thrusting into his hand and playing with his plug, Spike felt his balls start to tingle and pulled his hands away from his body instantly, bracing them on either wall of the stall. He stood there panting, eyes squeezed shut, cock throbbing, balls aching, legs spread as he tried to get himself back under control, back to a point where a stiff wind wouldn't tip the scales and send him crashing headlong into an orgasm.

"Fucking hell," he mumbled, shuddering through the waves of arousal and the shock of suddenly losing all stimulation when he'd been so close.

All he could think as he came down from the need to orgasm was that this had bloody well better be the last time. He couldn’t take anymore. Not without ending up breaking a rule and coming in spite of himself.

An indeterminate time later, he finally felt able to move again. He looked down at his abused cock back at half mast and clenched his jaw. Tensely he stuffed himself back into his jeans, whimpering in frustration as every touch, every brush of skin on skin and fabric on skin amped his barely subsiding arousal back up a few notches.

Once his kit was righted, he pulled his mobile back out of his pocket and texted Angel. Done. Please hurry back. Can't take anymore. Need you.

Slipping his mobile back into his pocket, Spike grabbed his gear, not even interested in finishing the game, and stomped out of the stall. If anyone asked, he'd just tell them he wasn't feeling well. Wasn't a lie, at any rate. He was feeling light-headed, he was just fairly sure it wasn't so much because of the bout of hay fever he'd been suffering with the last couple of days, but because of his need to get a leg over and soon.

He'd just made it past the other stall in the room when he heard rustling behind him. Before he could turn and see who it was -- and possibly die of embarrassment since he was pretty sure no one had come in while he'd been wanking himself off, meaning the person had been there all along -- Spike was shoved toward the wall opposite the stalls. He dropped his gear and started to fight back until he felt the vibrating plug in his arse come to life.

Gasping in shock, Spike went completely still, face, chest and hands pressed against the wall with an arm across his back and one around his waist. "Angel?"

Angel leaned in toward his ear and said, "That's 'bloody sadistic bastard' to you, boy."

Spike groaned, hoping that wasn't going to earn him a beating. It sounded like Angel was more amused by Spike's utterance than angry about it, though, and besides, Spike was beyond ecstatic Angel was there with him in the flesh, and therefore couldn't be bothered to worry about it just then.

Just as he thought that, Angel pressed his erection against Spike's arse and Spike moaned, pushing back, choking off a sob of frustration as the act pushed the vibrating plug into his over-sensitized prostate, sending a wave of need that nearly suffocated him crashing through him.

"Please, Angel. Can't wait anymore. Need you to fuck me. Please."

Angel reached down and cupped Spike's rapidly re-hardening cock and balls, massaging them firmly. Spike gasped and jerked in his hold, body unable to decide whether the sensation was more pain or pleasure.

"Hurts?"

Spike moaned, surrendering completely as Angel's mouth latched onto the side of his neck and his body held him trapped and helpless, making it clear without words that he was going to do whatever he pleased with him, as if there had been any doubt.

"Does it?" Angel asked again, squeezing harder.

"Yes," Spike said on a hiss.

"Were you a good boy while I was gone?"

Spike nodded his head. "Yes, Angel. Didn't come even once, I swear."

Angel leaned in further and bit Spike's earlobe. "You wanted to, though, didn't you?"

"Yes, Angel," Spike said, thinking it a stupid question, but having the common sense not to say so.

"How many times did you consider disobeying me?"

Spike wracked his brain, trying to come up with a number, but between how good it felt to be at Angel's mercy again, not to mention the intense vibrations in his arse and the erection pressed against his backside, Spike was lucky he could remember his soddin' name just then.

"Don't know," he said finally, "'Bout every time you've ordered me to since Monday."

Angel groaned. "And you still obeyed?"

Spike licked his lips. "Yes, Angel."

The hand cupping him suddenly released him, only to go to work unfastening his jeans as he said, "Such a good little bitch. You know your place, is that it? You get that this is my body to do with as I please, don't you?"

Spike shivered at the possessive words and nearly came on the spot. "Fuck. Yes, Angel. Yours. I'm yours."

"You're my what?" Angel pressed, hand sliding into Spike's now open jeans and finding his cock.

Spike bucked into his hand. "Your bitch."

"Do you want me to let you come?" Angel asked, and this time his voice was calculating, cluing Spike and his one remaining functioning brain cell in that he was fishing for something.

Spike hesitated, and then, praying he was getting it right, he said, "Only if it's what you want, Angel." And shockingly, he meant it.

Angel's face turned into Spike's hair and he breathed deeply, pressing his erection against Spike even as his fist tightened around his cock and began to jerk him off. "You are a good little bitch. And you know what good little bitches get?"

"What?" Spike asked breathlessly, hoping it was what he needed more than air itself right then.

Angel lifted the arm from his back with a growled order to stay put, then shoved Spike's jeans down around his thighs. Spike heard a zipper opening behind him, then the sound of something being torn -- most probably a condom wrapper. Seconds later, fingers gripped his plug, pulling it out. Spike groaned but held still, crying out as Angel's cock slammed into him almost immeidiately, sinking balls deep on the first thrust, as well prepared and ready for it as Spike had been.

Finally, Angel answered, voice low and dirty, "They get to come. Come for me, boy."

Angel began thrusting into him fast and hard and Spike had all he could do to keep upright. Gasping, he begged, "Please…need to move."

"You can move," Angel said, thrusting in again.

Immediately Spike pushed away from the wall enough to brace himself against it and began pushing back to meet Angel's thrusts, needing it just as fast and hard as he could get it.

"Oh God, Ang-Angel. Oh…fuck!" Spike yelled, freezing as he came in hot spurts all over the wall.

For a split second everything whited out and Spike's body convulsed. The only thing that kept him upright was Angel's arm slipping back around his waist, holding him to him. Trying not to pass out from the intense pleasure of finally getting to come, Spike did his best to support himself as Angel continued to fuck him so hard he went up on his toes several times. Finally, Angel froze behind him and groaned against Spike's neck.

Pushing away from the wall a moment later, Angel turned and leaned back against a nearby sink, turning Spike in his arms so Spike was facing him. Spike took that as permission to melt into a pile of goo and promptly did just that. He molded himself to Angel, face buried in Angel's neck, arms trapped uselessly at his sides as Angel held him close.

Eventually, Spike started to come back to his senses and muttered against Angel's throat, "Bloody hell."

"Good?" Angel asked, sounding entirely too pleased with himself.

Spike had to give him that one, though. He deserved to feel pleased with himself. "Brilliant, luv, and then some."

Angel chuckled. "Can you move yet?"

Spike grunted. "Can't even feel my legs yet. Give me another minute, yeah?"

Angel's arms tightened around him and he pressed a kiss to Spike's forehead. Spike…just leaned against him and basked in the afterglow, not caring if it was a poufy thing to do or not. Finally, reason started to seep in and Spike turned his head, glancing at the door.

"Can't believe no one's walked in on us."

"I shoved half a dozen doorstops under it. It'll take a while before anyone finds a way in. Had this whole tease I was going to do, get you to think anyone could walk in, and see if the idea got you off, but Christ. You were already so hot for it I never got the chance."

Spike chuckled and turned back toward Angel's neck, pulling his arms out from under Angel's and gripping his biceps as he said, "You spend three days in a permanent state of arousal with no relief like I did and we'll see how hot you are for it."

Angel reached down with one hand and squeezed Spike's arse. "Hard, was it?"

Spike snorted. "Can't believe I made it without my dick falling off."

Angel reached up and cupped Spike's chin, forcing him to look up at him. "I'm proud of you, and impressed as hell."

A warm thrill shot through Spike at the praise, even as he arched a pierced eyebrow. "Didn't think I could do it, then?"

Angel shook his head. "I knew you could, I just didn't know if you knew you could, and that's what really mattered."

Spike's eyes dropped to Angel's lips, all cockiness gone as he said seriously, "Did it for you."

Angel leaned down and pressed him mouth to Spike's, the kiss full of unspoken emotion flowing between them. After, Spike stared up into Angel's eyes, breathless all over again, not to mention more light-headed than ever. For a second he thought Angel was going to say something, but then Angel just pulled him back against him and rubbed his back.

Minutes later, Spike attempted to stand on his own, pushing away from Angel. He swayed slightly, but stayed on his feet. Attempting the next feat, he bent to pull up his jeans and almost toppled over.

Angel caught him and looked at him in concern. "Are you alright?"

Spike shrugged, embarrassed. "Just have a bit of hay fever. Been on an antihistamine with decongestant combo. Think I might have taken a double dose earlier, but I'm not sure. Been too wrapped up in needing to come to remember when I took it last, so I took another dose just before coming here. Sometimes the meds make me lightheaded."

Spike barely registered the alarm on Angel's face as his vision started to gray around the edges. Angel's hand dropped to Spike's chest and his voice, when he spoke, sounded like it was coming at Spike through a tunnel, muted and fuzzy. "Jesus Christ, Spike. You're lightheaded because your heart is racing. Decongestants can do that, too, especially if you take too many and then get over-stimulated like you just were."

"Yeah?" Spike said, a second before everything went dark.





Some time later, Spike woke to find himself in a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV and some other kind of machine with wires running up under his hospital gown. Spike blinked and lifted a hand to peek inside his gown, finding round sticky pads on his chest, the wires running out from them.

Groaning, Spike lifted his hand to his head, squeezing his eyes shut against the way it was pounding. He felt like he had the hangover from hell.

He jumped nearly a mile in the air as Lindsey and Xander suddenly said his name in unison from somewhere off to his right.

Cracking his eyes open again, he focused on them and asked, "What happened?"

"Lindsey's dad found you passed out in the bathroom at the paintball range," Xander said, looking like he didn’t know whether to hug Spike or throttle him.

Spike blinked and looked around. "A--" Catching himself before he got Angel's name out, Spike cleared his throat and tried again. "He did? Where is he?"

"Filling out some paperwork for you," Lindsey said.

Spike blinked. "He's…what?"

Xander reached out and patted his hand. "Just rest, Spike. You look like you're going to pass out again. We'll explain everything later, okay?"

Spike nodded, then groaned as the room spun and his stomach turned. "Yeah. Later. Good plan, that."





Some time later Spike woke again, this time to find Angel sitting by his side, the shades at the window drawn and nearly every light in the room off. Spike guessed by the quietness around him and out in the hall that it was the middle of the night. The fact that Angel was asleep in a chair was another clue. For a long moment, Spike simply stared, smiling at how peaceful Angel looked while he slept. Before he could decide whether to wake him up or not, though, Angel stirred and opened his eyes, meeting Spike's.

"You're awake."

Spike smiled. "So are you."

Angel straightened and cleared his throat. "Yeah, but I'm not the one recovering from tachycardia."

Spike's eyebrows shot up. "That's why I'm in here?"

Angel nodded. "Christ you scared me. When you were leaning against me, I just thought you were in a post-sex haze or something, and that your heart was beating so fast against my chest because you were coming down off it still. But then you kept nearly falling over and you looked so pale and out of it, and then you just…passed out. Thank God you told me what you took and how much before you did."

Spike glanced at the IV and what he assumed from what Angel had told him was a heart monitor. "This really necessary?"

"Your heart was beating at nearly twice its normal rate while you were unconscious. What do you think?" Angel snapped.

Spike turned back to Angel and smirked, trying to lighten the mood. "So…was the sex good for you, too?"

Instead of smiling or laughing like Spike had intended, Angel's expression darkened. "This isn't a joke, Spike. They nearly had to shock your heart at the scene. The injection they gave you didn't slow it down at first, and when they finally got it to, it wouldn't slow down enough and there was concern you might have a seizure. You were dehydrated, too, which made everything worse." Angel ran a hand through his hair, looking and sounding haggard as he relayed what had happened. "Thank fuck Lindsey had the presence of mind to dig your cell out of your pocket and call your dad's cell from it since I couldn't get him at home. He had to give me emergency authorization to oversee your treatment since he's out of town. He's flying home in the morning, by the way. It was the first flight he could get."

Spike blinked, how much danger he'd been in sinking in for the first time. In a small voice, he said, "I'm sorry."

Angel's features smoothed out and he picked Spike's hand up, holding it between his. "Just…don't do anything like that again, okay? Promise me."

Spike just nodded, choked up by the concern on Angel's face. Until then, he hadn't been completely sure what they were doing wasn't just fun and games for Angel. Now…he could see he truly cared about him. "I promise."

Angel's expression turned stern. "And as your Dom, I expect you to tell me if you're ever ill or taking any kind of medication, even over-the-counter, before we get into a scene. With the kind of thing we do…. Spike, I screw around with your body's chemistry constantly, playing on emotions and pain and pleasure to get endorphins and adrenaline flowing. That's what gives you that high. We can't mess around with that if you're ill or on something."

Spike nodded. "I get it. I promise. Won't happen again."

Angel studied him for a minute and nodded. "Good."

They both fell silent and Spike picked at the blanket covering him with his free hand since Angel was still holding his other one. He felt like a complete prat for allowing this to happen.

After a moment, he snuck a glance at Angel and asked, "Lindsey and Xander go home?"

Angel nodded. "Visiting hours ended and the nurse kicked them out. I was allowed to stay because I was legally in charge of your care while you were unconscious. I told Xander and Lindsey they could come back tomorrow and that I'd stay the night, until your father got here in the morning."

Spike smiled softly. "Really going to spend the night by my bedside, then?"

Angel smiled in return. "I really am."

They continued to smile at each other like a couple of poufs for a good minute or so before a nurse walked in. Spike started to pull his hand back, assuming Angel wouldn't want her to see them like that, but Angel only held tighter. Spike held his breath as he watched the nurse do no more than give their entwined hands a cursory glance before checking the IV and monitor.

"You gave your boyfriend quite a scare tonight, you know," she said as she lifted the side of his gown and checked the sticky circles on his chest."

Spike's stomach fluttered -- at the boyfriend comment, not at showing off his bits -- and he said, "Yeah. Already got the lecture." He glanced over at Angel and smiled apologetically, happy when he smiled back.

She put his gown back in place and nodded. "How are you feeling?"

Spike frowned. "Got a bit of a headache and my mouth feels like it's stuffed with cotton balls."

The nurse walked over to a pitcher and cup on a nearby tray and poured him some water, handing it to him. "You're still a little dehydrated. The IV's helping, but you need to get some fluids in you."

Spike nodded and took a drink. "Ta."

After she left, Spike arched an eyebrow at Angel. "Boyfriend? You told her? Does everyone know?"

"I didn’t tell her anything," Angel answered, then squeezed Spike's hand and teased, "I'm not positive, but I think it was probably the hand holding and the way we were smiling at each other that tipped her off."

Spike laughed, then took another drink as warmth curled through him from where his hand was still trapped between Angel's. It didn't appear Angel was going to give it back to him anytime soon, and Spike couldn't say that bothered him in the least.

"What did you tell the others about why you were there and were the one to find me?"

Angel shrugged. "I told them I got Lindsey's voicemail letting me know where he went. Since it was on my way home from the airport, I stopped by to say hi and see if he was going to want me to order pizza later. You guys were in the middle of the game still, so I went to use the bathroom while I waited, and that's when I found you lying there." Angel hesitated, then added, "I did tell the paramedics at the scene and the doctor when we got here what really happened because they needed to know, but don't worry, they can't tell your father without your consent since you're not a minor anymore."

Spike nodded. "Even if they could have told him, I'm not ashamed of you or us, Angel. Not the ideal way for my dad to find out, but…I wouldn't have been angry at you for doing what you needed to for me, either."

Angel leaned up and over, brushing his lips over Spike's. When he started to pull away, Spike reached up with the hand his IV was in and held him to him by the back of his head, deepening the kiss, running his tongue over Angel's lips, waiting for Angel to allow him in. He groaned when Angel parted his lips, and for the first time ever, Spike took the lead and Angel allowed it. Spike traced the inside of Angel's mouth before seeking out Angel's tongue, sliding his over it, playing with it, even sucking it for a few seconds until Angel groaned and grabbed him by the back of his head, taking over, kissing him thoroughly.

Finally, they broke the kiss and stared at each other.

Spike licked his lips and said, "Bloody hell."

Angel licked his too. "If we don’t stop, that heart monitor's going to start beeping and the nurse is going to come running."

Spike smirked. "Guess we'll give her a show, then, yeah?"

Angel smiled back, but disengaged himself anyway and sat back in his chair. "Exploring whether or not you have an exhibitionism kink will have to wait until you're healthy again. For now, lie back and get some rest."

Spike held Angel's eyes and laid back in bed, saying seductively, "Yes, Angel."

Angel sucked in a sharp breath, then scowled at him as he reached down to adjust himself, muttering under his breath, "Cocktease."

Spike just laughed and closed his eyes.

 

Note: I am not in the health care field, so if something was a little off with the medical stuff here, please keep that in mind, lol. I did do my best to find out as much about tachycardia as I could, though.

On another note, I'm starting to think I have a thing for Spike in a hospital bed. Heh. No idea what that says about me, but yeah. That's what? Three fics now (Bent Justice, Pivotal, and this) he's ended up there at some point? haha




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