Gluttony

How unfair was it. He wanted more, he needed more, he craved more. More of this spicy, forbidden fruit that was their relationship. More of the desperation that had become an unfulfillable addiction. No matter how much time they spent together, he had to have more.

The fleeting glances were becoming too little to give him his thrill, the gentle touches, the brushes in the hallway when they passed each other, the winks and nods and knowing smiles all losing their luster as the weeks passed and Angel just wanted more.

More Spike, more kisses, more, more, more. More fangs scraping across his throat and more possessive grips on his hand or arm or thigh or cock. More flattened tongue sliding up the side of his neck, more fingernails gouging red lines down his back along his spine, more promises of the delicious depravities to come, and more of those gorgeous blue eyes looking at him like he was the most beautiful, perfect, wonderful thing in the world.

He knew what had happened, in the back of his mind it was clear and precise and outlined in easy to read bullet points. Spike had seduced him, turned him into this needing, wanting, yearning creature that he hadn't known he could be. Spike had trained him to want more, only offering the slightest touches, the lightest kisses, until Angel was ready to crawl on his knees and beg for any scrap of attention Spike could deign to toss him.

He didn't care. He loved it, loved that he'd been tricked into this hunger, this need that made him feel sick to his stomach when he was away from Spike for too long. None of it mattered, as long as he could feel Spike's fingers on his skin, Spike's mouth on his lips, Spike's gaze on his body. He wanted it all, and he would be content if he could glut himself on Spike's attention, eat it up until there was none left and finally be satisfied again. But somehow he thought that even if he was allowed the amounts of attention he craved, he'd never be satisfied. He'd always want more. That was the lure of Spike's seduction, the constant need.

Angel looked up from signing some contract, distracted once more by the need to see Spike. He sighed, then smiled. If it was possible to be content while being absolutely discontented, then Angel was. And he'd be happy to stay this way for the rest of his unnaturally long life.