Territorial Rights

Angel used his key to enter Giles' apartment. It was almost 3:30 a.m., and the place was in darkness. Ever since Buffy had progressed past the need for a full time Watcher, Giles had been keeping somewhat normal, human hours. Angel, however, still operated mostly during the night. He'd finished his latest case in Los Angeles, told Cordy and Wes to go home and had driven straight to Sunnydale for a few days' vacation.

The vampire shrugged out of his duster and hung it on the coat tree near the door, then he crept up the stairs to the bedroom. There was no moon tonight, no illumination of any kind to allow him to see anything other than shadows and darker shadows. He undressed quickly and got into bed, reaching for Giles. He found him and curled up around him. That was when he noticed that Giles lacked his usual warmth. The ex-Watcher usually threw off heat like a furnace, and Angel loved to snuggle up against him to try to absorb some of that warmth. Now, there was only an icy-cold body gathered in his arms.

Alarmed, he bolted out of the bed and snapped on the lamp. The harsh light woke the occupant of the bed...and the other occupant.

"Spike?"

The tousled blond head of the vampire he'd sired as Angelus, poked out from the covers. Beside him, Giles sat up in the bed and rubbed his eyes. Lowering his hands he squinted into the light.

"Angel? What kept you? I waited up but... Bloody Hell!" He saw Spike and reacted as if scalded. Throwing back the covers he scrambled out from under them. He demanded, "What are you doing in my bed?"

The younger vampire started to apologize, shook himself and growled, "I got tired of sleeping on the sofa. This looked more comfortable."

"Get out. Now!" he roared when Spike hesitated. "Or I'll chain you up in the bathtub again."

Glowering, Spike climbed out of bed. He was nude. Grabbing a pillow he clutched it in front of himself, covering his genitals, then tossed it aside, and stalked down the stairs with great dignity. Both Giles and Angel followed his progress, staring at the rounded butt as it strode away from them.

Giles went to the railing and watched to make sure Spike went to the couch. When the blond vampire flopped down out of sight, Giles released a ragged breath.

"Damn him. He's worse than a puppy that I can't keep off the furniture." He looked at Angel and his expression softened, losing the harsh edge of exasperation and changing to one of affection. "I'm sorry. That was hardly the way I'd planned to greet you. I don't even know what he's doing back here. I'd sent him over to Xander's for the weekend."

Angel studied his lover who stood across the wide bed from him. Giles' hair was rumpled. He wore only his pyjama bottoms which hung low on his hips. His bare torso was firm and leanly muscled. Suddenly Angel ached to touch the sprinkling of chest hair, to feel those muscles under his palms.

He knelt on the bed.

"Come here," he said, patting the mattress.

"What about Spike?" Giles asked, crawling across the bed towards his lover.

"Let him find his own fun." Angel moved towards him.

Smiling, as they closed in on each other, Giles said, "No, I mean, this room doesn't have walls or a door or anything to keep the sound out."

"Then he should get an earful."

"Indeed." Giles took Angel into his arms and kissed him hungrily.

They fell sideways onto the bed, wrapped around each other.


Spike muttered to himself as he lay on the couch with arms folded across his stomach.

"Bloody poofs. Sodding nancy boys. If they think I don't know what's going on up there..." He stopped, listening. Nothing yet except the low murmur of voices. It made him feel like a child locked out of his parent's bedroom and hearing them talk in private, intimate ways. Ways that he had no inkling of, or was allowed to ever find out.

No, not his parents. A boyfriend-girlfriend combo he'd roomed with once. The noises from their bedroom had made him uncomfortable. Jealous. Like now.

"He's my human, not yours," he told the oblivious Angel. "I live here. I should be the one up there with him. Not you."

He listened again.

Bed noises -- the rustle of covers, the slightest of squeaks.

Silence.

Barely audible murmurs of pleasure. A gasp from one of them. Angel, he'd bet. More squeaks of the bedsprings. Then the sounds came more frequently, rhythmically.

Passion-filled grunts. A long low moan. That was Giles.

Unable to take it any longer, his erection lifting like a divining rod between his legs in the direction of the sounds of sex, Spike tossed aside his cushion, rolled off the couch and headed for the staircase.

The two moved on the bed as one, thrashing wildly in their ardour. Angel was on top. No, now Giles was. They rolled dangerously close to the edges of the mattress in a tangle of limbs.

Spike watched wide-eyed, his hand straying down between his legs. As he stroked himself, his landlord and his sire raced each other to completion and ended it in a shuddering explosion of movement, first one and then the other. They stilled in a loose embrace and lay panting.

As they separated, Giles rolling off Angel to drop down at his side, Angel saw Spike standing at the top of the stairs, leaning against the wall, pleasuring himself. He nudged his bed partner.

"Spike," Giles said languidly with a slight edge, as though he was angry but too tired to put much effort into it. He glanced at Angel and some silent communication passed between them, making Spike jealous all over again.

Giles lifted his hand and beckoned. "Come here."

Moving close enough to see their expressions, Spike observed nothing but curiosity. He crossed all the way over to the bed and threw himself onto it. They reached for him, pushing him down between them.

He glanced from one to the other as Giles leaned on one elbow and placed his hand on Spike's stomach. The warmth of the skin against his own coldness was exactly how he'd imagined it. By contrast, when Angel's cool hand joined it there, he experienced an extraordinary thrill. Hot and cold. Delicious.

"He's mine, you know," he felt compelled to tell Angel.

"Right. Whatever you say," Angel laughed leniently.

Giles and Angel ran their hands up and down Spike's body, neither of them touching him where he wanted them to, but getting closer with each pass. He knew they were toying with him, but he was too happy being a part of their sandwich to care. It had been weeks since Harmony had thrown him out of their lair. Weeks since he'd last gotten laid.

Soon his erection was at full mast without any of them having touched it.

"Come on, Spike," Angel urged. "Don't just lie there."

Reacting to the quasi-taunt, Spike twisted to his left and molded his body full length on top of Giles. The former Watcher caught and held him closely. Then Spike did what he'd wanted to do since his first night in the bathtub. He engulfed Giles' mouth with his own. He reached down for the impressive member, now lying passively between them. Working diligently to stir it back to life, he pushed his tongue deep into Giles' throat and, surprisingly, met with no protest, only acceptance and accommodation.

Angel reached around from behind Spike to stroke his erection. Giles clasped hands with Angel and they pumped the shaft together.

Spike thought he was going to blow apart into a million pieces.


Giles lay underneath two vampires as one aggressively stroked the other to climax and the other was actually succeeding in making a forty-five year old man get his second erection in less than twenty minutes. He closed his eyes and let it happen, listening to the soft grunts that accompanied their strange menage a trois. Being with Angel was one thing. He'd long since grown addicted to making love with him. Angel wasn't in it just for his own pleasure. Spike, surpisingly, wasn't either unless he got some kind of kick out of making another man randy.

Things heated up then as Giles felt himself traveling toward another culmination. Granted, this one was taking its own sweet time but it was happening. He bucked his hips and nearly dislodged Spike who in turn threw his head back against Angel's shoulder. None of them lost the intensity of their rhythm.

He opened his eyes to see Spike thrusting against the twin stimulation. Giles' own climax was not far off. They came together, and Angel followed soon after up against Spike's back.

The trio collapsed in a heap.

Giles shoved at Spike's shoulders.

"Get off! I do have to breathe, you know."

Both vampires rolled off him, one to the left and one to the right. Spike snuggled up close to his side. Giles turned the other way and kissed Angel softly on the corner of his mouth. Angel just smiled tiredly, lowered his head to Giles' shoulder and fell asleep. Spike was already snoring softly. Giles gave in and followed them into dreamland.


Buffy entered the apartment shortly after dawn. She went straight upstairs to the loft and stopped short at the sight that greeted her.

"Giles..."

"Angel?"

"Spike!"

The three in the bed woke up abruptly.

"Buffy."

"Buffy..."

"Slayer..."

One!

Two!

Giles looked with dismay at the twin piles of ash on either side of him.

"What have you done?" he yelled.

Buffy stood with one knee on the edge of the bed, a stake in her hand and a fiercely possessive look on her face.

"You belong to me."

~ end ~


E-mail the author with comments: bcunningham@sk.sym patico.ca
Passion!
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