Days of Our Unlives

By Shakespeare's Girl

A/N: I was just thinking about bad soap operas, and how everything turns into one with the right context, and then I was thinking about why on earth anyone would write about soap operas. This is what happened. No specific timeline, just somewhere in S5. Not meant as Soap Opera Bashing, although it is in there. It's just meant to be something light and funny to cheer me up after writing "Feels Like Joy."

Spike was watching "Passions" again. Again. Angel was going to break something--preferably something that was attached to Spike--if he had to listen to one more word of that show.

"Spike, turn it off, please!"

"C'mon, Angel. S'not like you want to watch something. 'Sides, it's almost over now. Only fifteen minutes left."

"I don't care! Please, turn it off! You can watch the reruns later." Spike said nothing, his eyes firmly fixed on the TV screen. "I'll get the cable package that comes with the Soap Network. You can watch 'Passions' there. Or even in your OWN room."

Spike hummed, and continued ignoring Angel's requests. Someone in the TV show started screaming, and Angel was about to join her. God, this was the dumbest show in the history of the world. Thinking as fast as he could, Angel tried to come up with something--anything--to get Spike to turn off that gosh awful show and get out of his room.

And Angel knew he'd seen too many soap operas when the only thing he could come up with was to start hitting on Spike. Well, it was only fifteen minutes, right? He could hit on Spike for fifteen minutes or less. Couldn't he? It wasn't like Spike was going to hit back. In the figurative sense anyway. He was very likely to hit Angel with something, but not hit on Angel, so that was safe...in a very violent sort of way.

Angel sighed and sat on the couch next to Spike. Spike continued to ignore him. Angel scooted closer, draped one arm around Spike's shoulders and slid one hand along Spike's thigh. "So, what exactly is going on right now anyway?"

"Hell if I know. Did someone put a crazy spell on you?"

"Huh?"

"I know you don't want to know what's going on in the land of 'Passions', so I have to assume either you're trying to get me to go away, or you've gone insane."

"Oh."

Angel found himself running a finger up and down Spike's neck, and the other vampire just stared at the screen, still trying to ignore him. He'd just have to do something that couldn't be ignored. Angel leaned over and bit Spike's neck.

"Oh, god! Angel, don't do this unless you mean it."

Angel released Spike, licking the younger vamp's blood from his lips as he did, and moving to the other side of the couch. "Okay, sorry."

They sat in awkward silence for a moment, someone having some sort of lover's tryst on screen, and Spike trying to remember who exactly that actress was supposed to be, and whether or not the actor she was currently making out with was her brother or not, but found himself unable to care anymore. His neck throbbed from the bite Angel had placed there. Throbbed in the insanely good way.

Angel sat staring at his hands, wondering why exactly the taste of Spike was making him want to absolutely devour the vampire. He hadn't reacted to someone this way since...well...ever. Why was that silly drink from Spike making him want nothing more than to grab the blond head and yank the hair back, baring the throat, draining the blood from his body even as he slammed it against a wall and fucked--

"Oh god!" Angel gasped aloud. Spike turned to look at him. Angel met his eyes, trying not to let him see the lust there. It didn't work.

"Uh, if you want--"

"Don't tempt me," Angel moaned.

"Oh. Okay. Um..."

"Are you sure?"

"About?"

"This. If I want...you know. Can I?"

"Um...I think so. I mean, I wouldn't mind, if you wouldn't."

"Oh god. I think if I did then I wouldn't be able to stop."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"I think if you did I wouldn't want you to stop."

"Shit." Angel swallowed hard, his hands shaking as he clenched them into fists to stop them from taking what his body was crying out that it needed more than life. Or unlife.

"No, I think you mean fuck."

"Spike, don't--"

"I'm not teasing. I mean fuck."

"You mean..."

"I mean, please, fuck..."

"Oh god." Angel tried one last time to resist the urge, but found he couldn't.

Neither one of them noticed that "Passions" had ended. They were busy with other things.