Title: Ooops! I Did It Again
Author: Am-Chau Yarkona
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Star Wars/Buffyverse crossover. Spike's got ideas, as always.
Disclaimer: These are not my character. None of them.
Pairing: Foursome. Spike/Angel/Han/Luke.
Before we begin: author points upwards to hook on ceiling, which she is thoughtfully providing for you to hang that heavy lump of disbelief on. Feel to free to use it, folks.
The bar was crowded, smoky, and it was on the edge of being painful to the ears.
“I’m still not sure why we’re here, Spike,” Angel said to the younger vampire, who was sitting next to him and chain-smoking. “I think we should go home.”
“We’re gonna meet an old friend of mine. A double date. You’d enjoy it if you’d just relax a bit.”
“A double date? Spike, I know you. You’re thinking of a foursome, aren’t you?”
Spike didn’t reply to that. He hadn’t expected Angel to see through his plan so quickly. “Here they come.”
The other side of the room, Angel and Spike watched as Han Solo opened the door, and practically dragged Luke through. “Come on, kid. It’s not that bad.”
“This isn’t a nice part of town, Han.”
“When was that ever a problem? I told you, I know this guy.”
“You knew Lando Calrissian too. Leia told me all about that.”
“Oh, let’s just meet him, shall we? Over there.” Han nodded to the far corner, where a bleached blond head could just be seen. “Not scared, are you?”
Luke decided that the shouting needed to argue in here wasn’t worth it, and followed Han to the back of the room, where his lover was greeting Spike more enthusiastically than might be thought strictly necessary.
Watching them, alert to the movement of the Force for fear of an attack, Luke realised that it was only be a great effort that they refrained from kissing, or something even worse. They’d been lovers in the past, he was sure of that.
Eventually, Han broke away from the manly hugging and minor petting that he and Spike had indulged in, to grin rakishly at Luke- who broke off mid-‘why do I put up with him?’ as his knees felt weak and his brain tried to explode, or implode, or something. Force, but Han was better looking than anyone had a right to be.
“Well, are you going to introduce me to tall, dark and broody in the corner there, or not?”
“Only if you’ll introduce me to that nummy treat,” Spike grinned back, a match for Han’s. “Guess I can, yeah. Angel, meet Han Solo, smuggler; Han, meet Angel, the current boyfriend.”
Angel stood up to shake hands, assessing this man who treated Spike with such physical familiarity. He was tall, though no taller than Angel himself, with a handsome mouth and eyes that had seen a lot of life, but were still laughing about it. Clearly, Spike had good reason to be attracted, and that made him even more of a threat.
“Han and I once smuggled eight casks of Romulan ale right under the nose of a Jedi,” Spike was saying. “Stupid religious types, they never know what’s going on.”
Luke didn’t reach for his lightsabre, but it wasn’t easy.
“Don’t be too sure of that, Spike old buddy. This nummy treat is Luke Skywalker, Jedi knight.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Spike said, blithely ignoring the fact that he’d just roundly insulted everything this man believed in. “So you’re another of these hero types?”
“A lot of people insist on saying that,” Luke answered, meeting Spike’s eyes and suddenly seeing what Han found attractive in that face, with its clear cheekbones and grin as attractive as Han’s. His Jedi training did- luckily, or so it seemed- prevent him thinking that more than once.
“Heroic and good-looking, huh? Quite a catch you’ve netted there, Han.” Han simply took Luke’s hand and sat down with him at the grimy table. “Though not a patch on my Angel, ‘course.”
“So, Spike, what’re we doing tonight?”
“Depends, Han. Same old, same old?”
Luke and Angel, aware that there was somehow more to this than they knew, exchanged a slightly nervous glance.”
“Missed me, did you? Or is it the nummy treat you’re after?”
Hearing that, Angel realised that he’d been all too right about Spike’s plan earlier. This wasn’t a night out with friends, this was a one-night stand. For four.
In his years as Angelus he’d done many things. There had been more than two in bed, normally at Darla’s prompting; but since that night when, on some strange planet in the Outer Rim, his soul had been returned to him, there’d only been Buffy and Spike.
The brief visual of those two together was one he’d had before, and he squashed it fast, no matter how close to the truth it may have been once. Spike was his now, all his, and he was Spike’s.
Spike, apparently, wanted Han and Luke as well.
“Could be. Who wants a drink?” Spike asked, standing up.
They ordered, and Spike disappeared into the crush of bodies around the bar.
“What do you do for a living, Angel?” Han enquired of the vampire.
Angel thought briefly about lying, and then figured that Spike would only ruin it if he did. “I’m a private detective, I help people who need it- especially people who find things happening that they can’t explain.”
Judging by the sudden interest on Luke’s face, that was a good thing to say. “Have you ever met a Force sensitive?”
“I’ve met some people with strange abilities- telepathy, telekinetics- but nothing I’d have said was the Force. You never know, though- what’s the difference between the Force and magic?”
“Magic doesn’t exist,” Luke shrugged. “Anyone with telekinetic powers is a Force sensitive.”
“I’d always assumed that the Force didn’t exist, until the New Republic came about,” Angel said, aware that this was dangerous ground but wanting to explore it. “Granted, a lot of the things that on my homeworld we’d have called demons turn out to be aliens with the advent of hyperspace travel, but I don’t accept that all magic is the Force. Can the Force create tears between dimensions?”
“Yes,” Luke answered confidently. “I’ve met a few people who claimed to be using magic, and all they were doing was using herbs and special words to focus their Force abilities.”
“Oh, no,” Spike groaned, hearing the end of this as he returned with a tray of drinks. “Don’t get Angel started on all that metaphysics crap.”
“Too late for that, Spike,” Han told him. “These two look set to go all night.”
“They can argue for three rounds, starting with this one,” Spike said, and downed his drink in one swallow. “Same again, everybody?”
“This is a turn up for the books,” Angel said, “A way to make Spike buy the drinks!”
“You’ll be buying them soon, Irish miser. And you’re providing the bedroom.”
“What!” Angel spluttered. “What?”
“When you’re all drunk enough, we’re going back to the hotel. Simple.”
“All four of us. Going back to the hotel. Where I am providing a bedroom.”
Spike nodded. “That’s the plan, right Han?”
Han nodded, too, and looked apologetically at Luke. “It’ll be fun.”
~~~~~~
Sure enough, five or fix rounds later, all four of them were drunker, though none so drunk they couldn’t walk, and hornier, as Spike had hoped. They made their way, singing snatches of old ballards, down the four blocks that separated them from the old Hyperion Hotel.
Wesley met them at the door, let them in, rolled his eyes, and went straight back to bed. With luck, he thought he could use a pile of blankets about six feet deep to shut out the noises, and Gunn slept rather more heavily than he did.
Fred and Cordelia were still out, painting the town red (or more likely a tasteful shade of pink) so the other four had the place more or less to themselves.
“Got rats,” Angel was explaining, earnestly, to Luke. “Try to cut their heads with the sword, very difficult. Lightsabre better, do you think?”
“Yeah, reckon,” Luke slurred. “’Sabre better for everything.”
“Ooo. You gonna show us your lightabre, Jedi?”
“Han first,” the young knight- who was decidedly drunker than the rest of them, being neither a vampire nor Corellian- said.
Together, all leaning on one another, they stumbled up the stairs and into the king-size bed that Angel and Spike shared. “Too many clothes,” Spike declared, and proceeded to start taking his own off, while assisting Angel and Han as well.
Luke sat on the bed, giggling at them, until all three had fallen over. “Silly, use the Force. That’s would Ben would say. ‘Use the Force, Luke’,” he mimicked his old teacher, sending himself off into another bout of giggles. After a while, he sobered up a little, and starting doing just that.
When Spike found that his buttons were coming undone on their own, he laughed, too. “Look, peaches, magic buttons.”
“No, Force buttons,” Luke told him stubbornly, but didn’t stop undoing them.
Han, who had drawn on long years of practise to strip himself while drunk, decided it wasn’t fair that Luke was still dressed. He knelt in front of the Jedi, and- without bothering about the shirt- starting pulling at his trousers.
After a few minutes of fumbling and some help from Spike, who lifted Luke up from behind, Han got them down to Luke’s knees and looked up again. At which point he discovered that Spike hadn’t been the only one planning something like this. “No underwear, Jedi? And nearly ready, too.”
Luke just giggled again and ran his hand down Spike’s strong arm, still wrapped about him.
Han looked at his lover’s face, and then at his cock. He nearly tried to reach up and kiss those smiling lips, but the temptation to go straight for the blow job won out. He bent his head and started to lick and nibble, eliciting moans of pleasure from Luke.
Still holding Luke upright, Spike watched Han’s clever mouth and felt himself getting harder, as if the mere presence of his former lover, naked, hadn’t done that already. He wondered briefly where Angel was, but then as Luke wriggled harder under Han’s ministrations, Spike was distracted by the fact that his cock was rubbing against the top of Luke’s buttocks.
He closed his eyes and did some squirming of his own.
From a chair on the other side of the room, Angel watched this set up, enjoying it thoroughly but unsure of where he could fit in. Spike looked happy; Luke was plainly doing fine; only the dark haired pilot was without someone to ‘tend to his needs’.
Carefully, because the room was spinning a little, Angel moved across to kneel behind Han. He slide his hands over muscular shoulders, around the wide chest, and down to the thick cock. Soon, the rhythm of Han’s mouth, transmitting itself though Luke’s body to Spike and backwards down Han’s spine to Angel, had the three whose mouth were free moaning in unison.
Luke came first, spasaming against Spike, which tipped him over the edge. Angel, watching Spike’s face as much as Luke’s, orgasmed over Han’s back, and squeezed his cock as he did so. Han jerked back into Angel’s firm body, and came.
It took them a good half hour to pile into bed, but they all found space to sleep somehow.