Wet Dreams (Angel/Spike, PG-13)

[carlyinrome]

Angel’s skin glows florescent under the lights. He’s hurt, and he falls against the walls; his blood colors the tiles. With this, and the lights, he’s paler than anything.

The hot water pelts his shoulders; Angel hisses when long, gentle fingers run soap over his hard muscles. The pretense of cleaning him, but really to test the soundness of the flesh. Hisses, but arches into the touch, too.

Angel turns, eyes miles deep. “Glad you’re here, Spike. To take care of me.”

Spike wakes violently. There’s an uneasy heat on his belly, and the dream isn’t disappearing quickly enough.

Fuck.