Vortigern & Spike
Spike and Vortigern left Elizabette and her twisted little mindgames to keep Angelus's affections behind. They wandered Boston for a bit, then Spike found a car he liked. With, as needed, a spacious back seat. Killing the former owner of the car while Vortigern watched, blood spilling down his lips as the vampire fed greedily. Vortigern licked his own lips slightly.
Why hadn't he ever wanted Spike to lose his soul? Watching Spike feed was like watching a god. Taking what he wanted and damn the consequences. Even the blood was erotic, watching Spike's throat move as he swallowed and drank the sustaining red fluid down. Watching him hunt was even better, before the eventual closing strike of white fangs into the soft skin of the prey's throat. Whether he hunted through stealth and subtlety or sheer outright strength, both were good.
The pair got in the car and Spike slammed his doors, half humming an old Sex Pistols tune. 'Holidays in the sun'.
"Right, so where are we off to, pet?" Spike asked as he put the car in gear and the immaculately kept up car purred away from the sidewalk.
"Don't care, as long as you keep me well f*cked," Vortigern said, grazing his hand across Spike's groin.
Spike chuckled deep in his throat.
"Never has been a problem, luv."
The vampire leant forward slightly and pushed a worn looking cassette tape into the player. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he sang along to the music.
"There's no point in asking
You'll get no reply.
Oh just remember a don't decide
I got no reason it's all too much
You'll always find us
Out to lunch
Oh we're so pretty
Oh so pretty
We're vacant
Oh we're so pretty
Oh so pretty
A-vacant..."
"I say we just drive until we hit places that look interesting," Vortigern said over the loud punk music.
"Sounds good to me," Spike said, leaning over to kiss Vortigern hard.
Tires squealed behind them and Spike sat up again, leaving a three car pileup behind them as he stepped on the accelartor. Vortigern laughed as the car sped up and encouraged Spike on.
A road trip, bloody road trip.
OOC: 'Pretty Vacant' by the Sex Pistols.