Angel woke with the mother of all headaches pounding behind his eyes. Groaning, he tried to roll over, but couldn't move. Light bathed his face, making it ache even more, and his mouth tasted of something long dead. He groaned again, really not wanting to open his eyes, and wondered for a moment what the hell had happened.
As he put that thought out of his head and decided that maybe sleeping some more would be the way to go, the memories started to trickle back.
"Shit," he muttered as images of Illyria filled his head and grief over Fred swamped him.
"You feel that way too, huh?" came an annoying and familiar British voice from next to his head.
Angel forced one eye open and groaned again at the sight of Spike's face, looking really pale and clammy, and apparently on the pillow next to him. "What the hell happened?"
"You don't remember?" As he asked that question a bit cautiously, Spike scooted backwards a bit, making the bed jiggle.
"Stop the earthquake."
"Yeah, we had a bit to drink."
"...Right, drink. We were drinking...Fred...Illyria...Gunn's betrayal." Angel tried to raise one hand to shade his throbbing eyes and couldn't because something was holding his hands over his head and he knew looking would send such agony through him he'd wish he was even more dead. "Why can't I move?"
"Um...that was your idea, I swear." Spike scooted some more towards the edge of the bed, and as the sheet pulled away, Angel got more of a look than he really wanted.
"Why are you naked and in my bed and I am so going to stake you," Angel growled, ignoring the pain and yanking on what he now realized were chains around his wrists.
"Not my idea," Spike yelped as he fell off the side of the bed. Obviously not as incapacitated as his sire--nor chained down-- he managed to pull himself up to his feet and sway very nakedly. "Ow, I always heard mixing drinks was the wrong way to go. Must have been those bottles of champagne on top of the beer on top of the tequila on top of the whisky."
"...Champagne."
Spike's face turned incredibly guilty and he shifted from foot to foot. "Um...yeah."
"We were mourning with champagne?"
"Um...no. We kind of got past the mourning and onto the celebrating." The younger male began to look around the room a bit desperately. "You really don't remember? It was all your idea." Spying his jeans, he grabbed them and began to dress.
"What was my idea?" Angel managed to get out through his clenched teeth. "And unchain me!"
"Nghhh...no." Shirt on, Spike grabbed up his boots. "I think I'll need a head start."
Angel reared up and yelled, "What the fuck did you do to me?", then collapsed, nearly crying at the agony exploding in his skull.
Fully dressed, Spike picked up a piece of paper off the desk slash dresser--standard issue, in what Angel recognized was a cheap motel room--and cautiously approached the bed to hold it where Angel could read it.
"...Huh?"
Giving him a sheepish look, Spike shrugged. "We got really, really pissed and...well...you said, "Let's go to San Francisco and get married, and I, drunk, remember, thought it was a good idea, so we did."
"...Married?"
"Well, dunno how legal it is even outside the whole man on man thing, since we don't have birth certificates and Mr. Angel isn't your real name, but...yeah."
Angel let that digest for a long minute, then whimpered. "And the chains?"
"Well...you wouldn't let me fuck you unless I chained you up, and I was happy to oblige."
"WHAT?"
"You asked!"
"Oh, shit. I'm your sire. Sires don't take it up the ass." Angel finally realized that more than just his head hurt, and he squirmed a bit on the scratchy sheets.
Spike snickered. "You sure about that? You were really into it."
"I'll kill you."
Hangover fleeing finally, Spike grinned wickedly. "Uh huh, is this our first marital spat?"
"Kill."
"Oh, come on Angel, it's not like we don't act like the oldest married couple on earth already, and it's not like that," Spike gestured broadly to the bed, "is anything new to us. Except I got to be on top," he added gleefully.
"Dead."
"Aw, don't be like that. Here, I'll give you a nice blowjob. That'll put you in a better mood.
And even though Angel protested and fought the chains, it did.
And they lived happily ever after, especially after Buffy found out and first kicked their asses for not telling her Spike was alive, then boinked them both into exhaustion, and they settled down fully baked as a happy menage a trois...until the next apocalypse, that is.
End