Warning! This story contains B/S, B/A & A/S pairings in graphic adult situations. If slash squicks you, i suggest you don't read this.

Written for MidnightAngel's bday, and fondly dedicated to her.
Lovely title picture from LadyAnne



New Year


Her head spinning a bit too much and her knees a little too weak, Buffy crossed Angel’s office to sit on the sofa. There, she rested her elbows on her knees and took her head in her hands. She was still trying to come to grips with what she had seen – interrupted. Strangely enough, she wasn’t angry. Shouldn’t she have been angry that the two men who claimed to love her were… fucking – could she call it fucking? Or was it more than that?

She wasn’t angry, but definitely upset. She didn’t blame them though. It was all her fault. She had left them without an answer for more than a year; of course, they had gotten tired of waiting. She should have known they would – although she’d never imagined they would find comfort in each other’s arms. She should have made her choice earlier, no matter how hard the choice had been. Now she had lost both of them, and…

She didn’t realize she was crying until Spike knelt in front of her and cupped her face in his hands. His thumbs lightly brushed away the tears; and when her vision cleared, she could see that he seemed sadder than ever before. She tried to swallow back her sobs and put on a smile. If he – if they were happy, she had no right to interfere. Maybe she ought to leave, and she said so in a trembling voice.

“Leave?” Angel repeated, and her eyes drifted to where he stood a few steps behind Spike. “But you just arrived. And it’s New Year’s Eve, we can’t let you be alone tonight.”

The last part was weak, almost as if he had grabbed the first excuse he could think of. But the way he said ‘we’, as if it were the easiest thing in the world, brought a fresh wave of tears down her cheeks. She tried again to say that she was leaving, tried to protest when Spike drew her down onto his lap, tried to stop crying against his shoulder like a baby, but she could do none of this. The tension in the last few weeks had been terrible since she had decided that she had waited long enough and needed to make a choice, even setting herself a deadline and finally choosing between them. To discover now that it was too late was destroying the walls she had so carefully built, leaving her bare and raw from too many emotions.

Eventually, she had no tears left to cry. Spike rose from the floor and settled them on the sofa, all the while never letting go of her, still running a soothing hand down her back. She felt the cushion next to them move, and opened her eyes to see Angel sitting mere inches away. A tense smile appeared on his lips when he saw her looking at him.

“Have you been… together… long?” she asked after what seemed like an eternity, afraid to hear the answer and yet needing to know.

“No,” Angel said, as Spike replied, “Yes.”

Puzzled, she raised her head from Spike’s shoulder so she could see both of them. They were frowning at each other.

“I’d think more than a century qualifies as ‘long’,” Spike pointed out.

“More than…” Buffy repeated, incredulous. She couldn’t think with Spike’s hand caressing her back, with both of them so close, so she stood but remained in front of the sofa.

“It’s not like that,” Angel said with a quiet sigh, now looking at her. “This was the first time since the soul. Mine, I mean.”

The first time… If she had only arrived a day before… or maybe not. If they were in love, it wouldn’t have changed anything if…

Her thoughts must have reflected on her face, because Spike reached out to take her hand and squeezed it lightly.

“Still love you,” he murmured, and as she looked into clear blue eyes, she couldn’t deny the truth of his words and feelings.

“So do I,” Angel stated after a second, taking her other hand and weaving his fingers with hers. “As much as I ever did.”

She looked at them in turn, at their hands holding hers, at them again. Her mind couldn’t comprehend what was going on. They said they still loved her, and yet…

“But you were… I mean… was it just sex? Or do you…”

It was all so confusing, she was so confused, that she didn’t immediately realize that she hadn’t finished her question, or that it was taking them a long time to reply. They were staring at each other again, Spike’s expression challenging, Angel’s unreadable. Finally, the brunet answered.

“It wasn’t just sex.”

Spike seemed to relax slightly as he broke eye contact with Angel and looked up at her again.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you, luv, but what brought you here today?”

She was surprised and startled to hear herself laugh, and they seemed just as taken aback. After all, better laughter than more tears. It was quite ridiculous, as if someone was having fun playing with them. They both loved her, but they had slept together on the very same day when she was finally ready to say yes to one of them.

“I’m baked,” she announced as seriously as she could after she managed to stifle her laugh. Spike’s puzzlement only increased, but Angel clearly understood and answered the blond’s unspoken question.

“She has chosen.”

No need to say what she had chosen. But the tension leapt tenfold as they waited to know whom she had chosen. She shook her head.

“Doesn’t matter now,” she shrugged, and freed both her hands.

They had each other; they didn’t need her. She wasn’t going to destroy whatever they had after making them wait for so long with nothing but uncertainty. It would have been utterly selfish from her. And she had a feeling she had been selfish too often already where they were concerned. She backed away and was almost at the door, and still neither of them had moved yet. Silently, she asked them to take care of each other, and then turned to leave, whispering under her breath: “Love you”.

As she reached for the door handle, Spike was there, between her and the exit, and she knew without needing to look back that Angel wasn’t any farther than a step behind her.

“Just one question, pet,” Spike said blankly, “and you’re not getting out of here before you answer. Who do you love?”

She had expected him to ask whom she had chosen and started shaking her head before realizing that wasn’t the words he had used. Each question had a different answer. Still, it didn’t change anything, she couldn’t…

From behind, a hand settled on her shoulder, while Spike’s fingers under her chin tilted her head up until she was looking straight at him. Angel spoke this time, his voice cracking with emotion.

“Do you love us both? Is that why you wouldn’t choose for all this time?”

She couldn’t answer that. Refused to answer that. But judging by Spike’s slowly blooming smile, her eyes had already answered.

“You realize we’re never letting you go, now, don’t you?” he said softly, and she stared at him unblinkingly, unsure of what he meant. The pressure of the hand on her shoulder increased for a second before Angel asked:

“Do you love us, Buffy? Both of us? Like we both love you?”

Then, so softly came his words that she wasn’t sure if she had imagined or heard them: “We’re yours already. Do you want to be ours?”

She felt her whole body flush. Not needing to choose, having them both - certainly, she couldn’t do that, it wasn’t proper, what would the others say… Before she knew it, she was nodding. Spike immediately leaned in for an intense but too short kiss that left her breathless before gently turning her so that she faced Angel, and nuzzled her neck as the brunet kissed her.

A tiny voice in her brain demanded to know what she thought she was doing, and that was it, exactly, for once she wasn’t thinking, just allowing herself to have what was given to her and that she wanted so much. The little voice however found a winning argument, and she pulled free of Angel’s lips, the same movement bringing her ever closer to Spike’s unquestionably aroused body.

“Your soul,” she murmured, apologetic, as she forced herself to meet Angel’s gaze. “I can’t…”

“Shhh,” Spike whispered against her ear. “Peaches will be fine. If he looks a little too happy, just ask him to tell you about Connor.”

Indeed, the instant Spike said the name, Angel’s eyes closed, but not before she had seen the incredible pain in them. She reached up to caress his face, wondering who this Connor was and why the simple mention of his name could hurt Angel like this. Now wasn’t the time to ask, though. Tentatively, she brushed her lips against Angel’s, trying to soothe him.

A knock on the door startled all three of them, and they separated and moved back just as a green demon slipped his head through the now open door.

“Sorry to interrupt, cupcakes, but it’s almost midnight and the big boss has a speech to make.”

“Ask Wes to do it,” the vampire said shortly.

The demon objected, arguing with Angel until the brunet sighed his consent.

“We’ll wait for you upstairs,” Spike suggested, smirking lightly. “Give you an incentive to make this the shortest speech in the history of Evil and company.”

The two vampires shared a small smile, and Buffy wondered what inside joke she was missing. A lot had definitely happened since she had last seen them. They had been ready to stake each other then. That didn’t seem in either of their plans anymore. She didn’t have much time to think about it though. Within seconds, she and Spike were in the elevator, having successfully walked through the crowded lobby without attracting too much attention. Spike had also managed to grab two glasses of champagne, and Buffy drank hers quickly, as if the bubbles might help her to get rid of some of the nervousness that was slowly rising in her. What was she doing? How could she possibly…

A demanding mouth pressing to hers stopped her train of thoughts, and she quickly was kissing back, momentarily forgetting her apprehension.

“You’re thinking too much, luv,” Spike whispered against her brow when they separated.

“How can I not think?” she replied. “What are we doing here? How…”

“I love you,” he interrupted softly and held her a little tighter. “And so does Angel. You have no reason to be scared.”

She was about to protest that she wasn’t scared, but realized that wasn’t true. She was.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want to,” Spike continued soothingly. “Just say the word, and it stops.”

He paused, and when he spoke again his voice was an awed whisper buried in the crook of her neck.

“I’ve missed you so much, luv.”

A little more than a year before, she had come to Wolfram and Hart to see with her own eyes that Spike was indeed back. She hadn’t stayed more than an hour, apologizing that it was too much and undoubtedly breaking his heart. After all she had put him through how could he still love her?

“I love you,” she finally acknowledged, and swallowed heavily when he looked at her with intensity that made her shiver. “But I love him too.”

Spike merely nodded and took her hand to lead her out of the elevator and into a sumptuous apartment. The empty glasses were left on the closest available surface, and once more, their mouths found each other. The kiss started slowly, gently, but after a few seconds, it was fire and passion as their bodies remembered the heat of times past. It was as passionate as it once had been, but with a major difference. She loved him, she had told him so. And these words seemed to make every touch, every kiss so much more.

His shirt was the first piece of clothing to fall, closely followed by her dress as he directed their steps toward what she soon discovered was the bedroom. Angel’s bedroom. The thought didn’t cool the lava running through her veins in the slightest. Quite the contrary, actually, she was surprised to realize.

She was already naked when Spike lowered her to the satin sheets, but as she belatedly noticed, he wasn’t. She lost no time in reversing their positions making short work of his shoes, socks, and dress pants. The latter broke through the lust and she frowned at the soft fabric in her hands.

“No more jeans?” she asked, a little confused.

“S the poof’s fault,” Spike instantly defended himself. “Said I couldn’t come to the party if I didn’t play dress up.”

Dressing up apparently didn’t include any more underwear than usual, however, as she was delighted to discover. He tried to roll them again once she had divested him of his clothes, but she resisted his efforts and pinned both his hands down on either side of his head. His eyes were slowly becoming amber with desire, the color deepening when she straddled his hips and trapped his erection between their bodies. She leaned down to shower his face and neck with kisses, pausing to lick at the recent bite marks at the juncture of his shoulder and neck. They were mostly healed but she could still taste a hint of his blood. She wasn’t sure if it was the coppery taste on her tongue or the heady moan that passed Spike’s lips that sent a renewed wave of lust straight to her core. She lightly bit the tender wound, and his hips surged against her, making both of them moan.

“Slayer, please.”

His voice was ragged; but as much as she wanted to give in, she shook her head.

“Have you forgotten my name?” she taunted as she alternatively licked and nibbled along his collarbone.

“Buffy. My Buffy. Need you so much. Love you so much.”

She let go of his hands to caress his chest, and instantly he rolled them over. The tip of his cock brushed against her wetness once, twice, and she angled her hips so that at the third passage he slid inside her. She stilled completely under him, drowning in his gaze as he ever so slowly moved inside her, always deeper, until she thought she had all of him. Then he pulled out almost completely, and proved her wrong as he thrust in even deeper than before. Together, they established a languid rhythm that left time and opportunities for hands and mouths to roam freely and rediscover needy bodies.

A sharp intake of breath had both of them turn their faces to the door. If Buffy had thought about how Angel would react upon finding her and Spike in his bed, she had certainly not imagined the unmistakable lust that fluttered across his features. In a second, he had crossed the room and had lain down on his side next to them. Buffy’s eyes widened, both in surprise and at the suddenly increased pace of Spike’s thrusting.

“Overdressed,” Spike commented raggedly as he reached over and brutally tore off Angel’s shirt.

The brunet scowled at him before looking again at Buffy. She was still trying to get her mind around the fact that the three of them were in a bed together. But when Angel asked in a whisper if she wanted him to leave, the answer was immediate – and negative. His smiling lips brushed against hers, but when she tried to deepen the kiss he moved down, sliding until his tongue was circling her already painfully hard nipple. The lightness of the touch, in such a sharp contrast to Spike’s relentless pounding against her sweetest spot, soon had Buffy lightheaded and pleading for more. She practically wept when the teasing turned into sucking and soft nibbling.

The sensations were incredible; made even more powerful by the knowledge that she was with the two men she loved so much. Clever fingers – whose? – found her clit and the first touch had her crying out her orgasm until her throat felt raw. Spike thrust a few more times in her – then he was gone. She started to moan her protest before completely losing the ability to speak at the spectacle inches from her. Angel had tackled the blond and was now giving him what seemed like a very delightful blowjob, if Buffy was to trust Spike’s blissful expression. Fighting down the feeling of oddity, she moved to lie alongside Spike and leaned in to kiss him. She changed her mind however when her eyes fell on the now practically healed scars on his neck; she bit down on them, a little harder than she had before but not enough to break the skin. Instantly Spike howled, eyes shut tight in pleasure as his back arched off the bed.

Buffy looked down as his spent cock slipped past Angel’s lips. The sight sent a wave of renewed desire straight to her clit, and it must have shown on her face because Angel crawled up to her and pressed his mouth to hers. She tentatively ran her tongue against his lips before slipping in, picking up a flavor that was purely Spike, and behind it a taste that she recognized as hers. As she lost herself in the heated kiss, she was still aware of Angel’s hand on her breast, kneading softly, and of Spike’s efforts to free Angel of his pants. Then there was nothing left but Angel entering her and his voice murmuring endearments into her ear as he buried himself in her to the hilt. His movements remained slow and shallow and she tried to raise her hips to meet his and indicate that she needed more, but he pressed his lips to her neck and murmured:

“Just a second, Buffy. Almost ready.”

Puzzled, she was about to ask ready for what, but then she caught a glimpse of Spike behind Angel, and her brain supplied her with a graphic image of what was happening. She moaned lightly, then blushed as she realized that she was more turned on than ever by the idea of Angel thrusting into her while Spike did the same to him. Erotic images of all the possible ways they could pleasure each other flashed through her mind; and as she met Angel’s eyes and saw him smile, she had the definite impression that he knew exactly what she had been thinking about. Then the brunet hissed, in pleasure or in pain, she couldn’t have said. Maybe both. A few tentative thrusts, and she was already so close… Her hands found Spike on Angel’s hips; their fingers laced together. Then they finally fell into a comfortable but merciless pace that before long had her writhing on the bed and losing herself in both her lovers. Her last thought before a powerful orgasm made her black out was that the New Year was definitely going to be interesting.


next part


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The characters and names used in these stories do not belong to me. All copyrights remain with Fox and Mutant Enemy. No profit is made from this fanfiction.