Notes: This is set in the beginning of season 5 of Angel – the Series (after Hell Bound, I think), when Spike is still a ghost.

It's nothing more and nothing less than a PWP. I admit I'm quite embarrassed to post this, as slash isn't usually my thing, but I got to thinking of what a ghost-Spike could do, and, well... Plus, with vampires, I kind of see them as swinging both ways. So there it is.

Angel didn't even bother to turn on the lights as he let the door close slowly behind him. Not that he would really need lights to see anyway, but sometimes the warm glow made the place more...livable. His new apartment, one fitting the Big Boss, the Champion of Champions. Yeah, right. He snorted bitterly to himself. Some would, did, call what they accomplished tonight a victory, finally putting Pavayne away. And he couldn't deny that, they did good. But not good enough, Spike was still...

"Oh come on, do you ever not brood?"

"Spike. Figures" Angel turned around, eyes searching for his ghostly...'nemesis', 'grand-childe', 'friend'...his...' Spike'.

"Still haunting me, I see. You must be terribly bored"

"Well, I've had more interesting times, as I'm sure you know, but you are selling yourself a bit short, aren't you?"

Angel just raised his eyebrows, pouring himself a glass of blood. "I am?"

"Well, you could infer, from me constantly 'haunting' you, as you so nicely put it, that I'm searching for your company because I want it, and not just because I'm bored. Which I am in fact. Bored, I mean"

"I can see that. I'm guessing telling you to get lost wouldn't do much good, would it?"

"Nope. But anyway, you can pretend all you want, I know you actually love having me around"...

"Yeah, right, 'cause you're just...".

Whatever else Angel was trying to say froze in his throat as Spike went on. "...and keeping me company is the least you can do after failing to bring me back from, you know, ghost-land"

And that was the heart of the matter. He knew, rationally, that there wasn't anything more he could have done, but still, the failure weighed heavily on him. Another helpless he couldn't help, another friend he couldn't rescue, another ... loved one he couldn't save. He placed the glass back on the table and watched the dark red liquid rippling slightly.

"Spike... I'm so sorry..."

The blond vampire cut him off. "Geez, man, have you lost all sense of humor in your old age? I was just rattling your chains a bit. What the hell are you sorry for?"

He raised his eyes from the glass. "For, you know, not..." he waved his hand vaguely in the direction of Spike's body. "...making you...you again"

"God are you eloquent or what. Look, Superman, last time I checked you were not all powerful. Besides, you people did save me from going to hell, literally, a little fact for which I'm mighty grateful, you know. And, anyway, I still haven't given up on what cutie-brainy chick can come up with. So don't brood on my account, Angel-cakes"

"Don't call me that! That you had to learn from Lorne?". Spike's innocent smile just made Angel want to smack him. His not blaming him made Angel want to kiss him. Well, maybe not kiss him, but...

He turned around abruptly. "I'm going to take a shower and head to bed. I'm beat. Feel free to hang around, since you're gonna do that anyway"

"Thank you, oh gracious host" Spike bowed deeply, smirk firmly into place.

Angel just shook his head, caught between feeling annoyed, amused and aroused. He didn't feel ashamed about that. You saw and did a lot in 250 years, and sex as a vampire was never dull, or limited to one gender. He always swung way more towards females, but an occasional tryst with a male was not unheard of. And with Spike, well, the tension was always there. Which was one of the reasons they fought so much, probably.

He washed himself leisurely, more relaxed after allowing at least part of the guilt to be lifted. Well, as relaxed as he could be with him around the house and a hard on that wouldn't go down properly, even under the cold spray of the shower. He sighed, resigned, wrapped a towel around his hips and exited the bathroom.

"Spike, you're around?"

Nothing. Angel walked slowly around his apartment, checking. Not that he could find the ghost if he didn't want to be seen. He tried again. "Come on, Spike, are you here?"

Still nothing. 'Okay then, a little peace and quiet finally'

He threw the towel back into the bathroom and got under the covers, intent on finally getting some sleep.

Spike watched for a while from across the room as Angel tossed and turned in his bed, obviously in the middle of a dream. At first he thought nightmare, he wasn't a stranger to those himself. Then, as a low moan made its way out from between the other man's lips, he walked closer to the bed.

'Not a nightmare then' he grinned as his eyes travelled across Angel's body. 'This could get interesting...'.

Being a ghost could have certain advantages, Spike thought as he slowly made his way onto the bed; he was very aware of the fact that otherwise there was no way he could have gotten this close to Angel without him waking up 'and probably killing me...'. He still needed to tread lightly here. He kept himself invisible – he did learn a trick or two from that Pavayne bastard after all- and decided not to use his new-found capacity to interact with objects either. For now, at least.

He skimmed his hand over Angel's naked chest, resting briefly above his heart. Unlike other ghosts he radiated heat, the girl-genius said. A vampire should feel that even better, he thought, since their body temperature was way lower then a human's. 'Okay then, let's see...'

He moved his hand slowly down, over his abdomen, lower. His fingers moved almost in slow motion, caressing the space where the other man's rather impressive erection was. Angel moaned again in his sleep, twitching under his hand. 'So it's working then...'

Spike took his time, his hand patiently moving around, over, 'on?' Angel's groin, over his balls and back towards the tip, again and again. Angel was thrashing in bed by now, still asleep. He gasped loudly and his eyes flew open only seconds later, sitting up in bed and frantically looking around the room.

Funny how after hundreds of years of not needing to breathe the reflex was still there, Spike thought, watching the other man pant. Angel let himself fall back on the pillow, sighing. There was no way he could go back to sleep in his current condition, he couldn't remember ever waking up quite this much aroused. Sure, it wasn't a rare occurrence, with his lack of ...uh...relationships, but now it was much worse, he felt tingly allover and so hard it hurt. Before he could decide to do something about that, Spike made his own decision to turn the heat back on, so to speak. He placed his hand back, again caressing along Angel's length. He groaned deep in his chest and his hips jerked violently off the bed.

"Aaargh God, what..." and then it hit him. "Spike" the name came out from between clenched teeth.

The vampire in question allowed himself to be seen and kept his hand where it was, no point in pretending anyway.

"Hey". Spike smiled, innocently. "I see you're quite happy to see me"

"What the hell are you doing, Spike, you fucking pervert...?" he made a move to grab his throat but encountered only thin air.

Spike shook his head. "Tsk tsk. Why the anger issues, hon? You certainly didn't seem to mind"

"Not seemed to mind? Are you fucking crazy?" another failed attempt at a punch.

Spike just smirked. Sure, Angel was pretty scary when angry, but somehow the effect was lessened when he was naked and panting in bed, with an erection the size of China. Which, by the way, had not subsided one bit, Spike noticed with interest.

"Oh come on, drop the 'holier-than-thou' attitude! It's not like you've never done this before!"

"Well, not with a ghost I haven't!"

"So? You're opposed to a little novelty now? Come on Angel, you can't pretend you're not enjoying this!" his eyes travelling suggestively downwards.

Angel flopped back down on the bed, rubbing his eyes. Truth was, as weird as the situation was, this was still Spike and, well, he was certainly enjoying this. The sensations were like nothing he has ever felt before, and that was saying a lot. And, honestly, he didn't feel like fighting much right now.

"How do you do that anyway?"

"Above room temperature, remember? I'm hot, what can I say?" Spike moved his fingers again, not waiting for more explicit approval.

The gesture made Angel clench his teeth. This was beyond weird, seeing Spike but not really feeling him. He could swear he felt the air molecules moving against him, vampire senses even more heightened by his aroused state. And the heat... Everything combined to drive him crazier by the second, until he thought he couldn't take any more of it. He clenched his jaw harder, trying to keep the sounds in, eyes squeezing shut.

The heat and the barely-there tingling traveled lower, over his balls and between his legs and slightly inside and this time he couldn't hold in the sounds as his hips again jerked off the bed, his body trying in vain to get some friction.

He mumbled almost incoherently, voice choked and clipped "God...Spike...please...can't no more...please..."

In this particular moment, Spike was very glad he was a ghost. Had he been flesh and blood he was sure there was no way in hell he would have had the patience and control to bring the mighty Angel to this state. A vampire had needs and urges of his own, after all, while a ghost didn't. Sure, he immensely enjoyed the show, but there was no pressure for him. Which couldn't be said about his friend, currently thrashing his head on the pillows and drawing irregular breaths of unneeded air.

His own voice was low and husky as he spoke, just a hint of a smile in it. "What is it, Angel-cakes? Too much for you?"

Angel didn't even react to the normally hated pastry-names. "Just...can't take it any more...please Spike...". The deep pressure between his legs continued, but nothing else happened for a while. All control lost, he unclenched a hand from the crumpled bed-sheets and grabbed himself hard, intent on finally getting some release before he went completely insane.

"You do that and I'm gone" the heat and tingling disappeared.

"So what, you just wanna torture me to death Spike?"

"But what a way to go, Peaches baby" the damned smirk was firmly in place again.

"Moron"

"Poof"

Angel let his hand fall back on the bed, a growl he hoped Spike would interpret as angry slipping past his lips.

"That's a good boy. Now, where were we?" and everything was back, the almost-touches and the moving heat, driving him into a frenzy.

Angel couldn't remember needing something this much for a long time. Blood, maybe, ages ago, when the bloodlust would overpower everything else... He felt his face change and vaguely heard the sound of the sheets tearing under his fingers.

"Had enough? Want me to end it?" Spike's voice sounded close to his ear.

"Yesss...no...yes...I don't know! Just...I need to..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know what you need. You look pretty desperate there, mate. And you should do something about that speech disorder, it's hard for a bloke to get what you mean, ya know"

"Spike...!"

"Hold your horses there man, I'm concentrating!"

"Concentrating!?"

"Yep. Takes a bit of that so I can interact...There!" his hand squeezed hard around Angel's erection, making him moan loudly in something between pleasure and pain and so unbelievably exquisite there were no words for it. His hips jerked up erratically in Spike's fist, no semblance of control left.

"Hey, you're not gonna go all Angelus on me are ya?" he stopped his movements momentarily but didn't remove his hand.

"No, you idiot...!" another desperate growl slipped out before Angel could finish the sentence and, hopefully, just...finish. "Getting jerked off by a ghost is hardly a 'perfect happiness' moment, you ass!"

"Now, now. No need to get snarky, babe" the smirk was audible in Spike's voice; thankfully he decided he'd riled Angel up enough and resumed pumping his fist hard.

It only took seconds before Angel felt the whole world seizing around him, the pleasure almost unbearable. His body arched off the bed, every muscle and tendon so taut Spike could swear he heard the bones crackling, the scream trying to claw its way up his throat only coming up as a strangled groan.

He fell back on the bed long moments later, unfocused and weak.

"Jesus, Spike, this... I..."

"Still eloquent, I see. Yeah, I know, I'm just that good, what can I say"

He wasn't about to admit that after all this time he could still be a bit awed, as he was again reminded of the man's...aura, for lack of a better word - the strength, no, power, intensity, the sheer beauty...well. He was pretty sure he masked what he was feeling with enough success, especially since Angel was still nearly catatonic, but just in case...

"I hope you don't need a cuddle, Peaches, I'm really not into that"

It took an effort for Angel to open his eyes.

"Fuck you". It sounded almost like an endearment, spoken in that soft deep voice, a hint of a smile in it.

Spike grinned happily "Oh, you will, babe, you will"