DISCLAIMER: I am not Joss Whedon.
RATING: oh, let's say NC-17-ish...
PAIRING: S/A
DISTRIBUTION: if I said yes, then go for it; also, my site.
FEEDBACK: is kinda the point, yes???
DEDICATIONS: to all who said they liked the first three parts... thanks for your support of this pairing!!! Also, to Jeannette and Nat (for the site. Duh.)
NOTES: Okay, this series started at the end of the ep where Glory beat merry fuck out of poor Spike. In my world, 'Epiphany' happened around the same time. * *= emphasis.
POV: the bleached wonder again.
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I am such a fucking ponce. A pansy, a sodding pouf, and a little girlie type, too. He's made me cry. My sodding great, broody wanker of a Sire's gone and made me cry, and what's worse is... I don't care!
He loves me. I mean, I *knew* he did, but then he had to go *saying* *it*, and fuck me if it didn't make me sob like a bloody six year old human.
He didn't stop me when I slammed my finger into that tight, hard ass of his. I kind of thought he would, but he didn't. Hell, he barely even froze up for a minute! And that minute passed more quickly than I'd've believed, because next thing I knew? I heard my own voice telling him that he had himself a shagging coming on, and damned if he didn't just... press back against my hand!
So, I slipped another finger into him, and I nearly groaned right along with him. His ass was so fucking tight; it was like being clamped in a vise. Didn't stop me from letting a third finger join the first two, though. Hell, *nothing* could have stopped that. I probably would have tried knocking him out if he'd tried to object.
Over a hundred years. More than a century since I'd touched him like that. It was too bloody fucking long.
He seemed to think that I needed to be drinking him to sense him, but when we were that close? Fuck, I could *feel* Angelus writhing inside him. Didn't know why, though; didn't really care, either. I was gonna fuck my Sire, after all, if the way his body was moving was any indication.
I used his moment of distraction to shove him off of me, and back against the bed, and when I straddled his stomach, I took his eyes hard with my own, chuckling slightly at the flecks of gold in his brown eyes. He wouldn't stop me; didn't *want* to stop me. I could tell. I grinned that cocky grin he likes so much, even though he *won't* admit it, and rocked myself against his skin.
He eyes turned even more gold when he felt his fluids leaking from my asshole, then closed as I leaned down, licking hard at one tight nipple. My teeth nipped at it, even as I twisted the other with my fingers, and I growled just a little bit when he arched up beneath me. Fucking ponce makes me so damned hot, even with that whole no body temperature thing we've got going on. His skin was soft over hard, rippling muscles, and fuck me if he wasn't the most beautiful god damned thing I'd ever seen. Of course, he always *had* been, so that was no surprise.
I remember way back when-- the nights, and days we spent just... fucking, and feeding, with him training me up right, as Darla called it. The way we were then, when he'd let me take him-- all three times I recall-- it had to be fast, and furious, and all about domination and blood, but... I couldn't go back to that. It had been too long for me to be the fawning, worshiping young fledge again. No, it would have to be different, I decided; especially if I wanted things to last. And I did want that, souled prick or not.
My eyes locked on his, and I reached quickly for the tube that was barely hanging on the edge of the bed, a small part of me entirely sure that Angel was teasing; that he had no intention of allowing me to fill him. Still, hope springs eternal and all that rot, right? So I popped the lid of the lube, and it was only moments later that I was all slicked up and ready to go. His hands were on my knees, rubbing my skin, the large callouses on the pads of his fingers scraping lightly at me, and I truly couldn't bear any more. Have I mentioned that the poncy git makes me hotter than fuck? 'Cause he does.
So I moved one leg, settling it between his, then the other, and reached for his big, peasanty knee, and he slid out from under me! The sodding, fucking bastard was backing out! It was all a fucking game to him! Son of a bitching blighter!
I was actually looking about for something to bash his head in with when he stopped and looked at me over his wide shoulder. "Less strain this way," he said, and I think I must have frozen for just a moment. Didn't last long, though; not with that wide, firm ass waggling in the air in front of me, anyway.
My eyes were wide, I know, even as I moved closer to him, my knees sliding smoothly over the dark sheets. Fucking Angel. Fucking bloody bastard ponce of a Sire. *My* ponce of a Sire, though. "Angel," I said, fingers grasping at his hips.
I could tell, even as I started pressing my throbbing cock hard against that tightly clenched hole, that he hadn't had anyone that way since the last time *I'd* been there, and I've got to say... made me feel all... manly, and special. Still, it wouldn't have done to let *him* know that, so I kept my mouth shut, and twisted my hips a bit, working my head slowly deeper until... *Fuck*! I felt him give, felt that ring of muscle and cartilage stretch just enough, and Jesus-fucking-Christ, I was *in*!
My fingers tightened a bit, holding him still, and I watched-- all golden-eyed and shit-- as my cock slowly disappeared inside his hard, tight ass. It was a sight I'd never seen before, what with all the frenzy that'd been involved before.
Still, his entire body was tense, and I knew he was holding himself back, and... that just wouldn't do. I wondered how I could make him just... relax and enjoy our moment, even while I pushed myself deeper, but when I was finally, finally, fully sheathed in him, my balls resting right up against his? Well, something inside him seemed to let go, because that tension was just suddenly... *gone*. Tiny whimpers were coming from his throat, and he was rocking back into me, meeting my slow, deep thrusts, and all I wanted was for him to love the sensations as much as I did, so the next time I pulled back, almost completely out of him, I held his hips still once more, slipping in and out of him slowly, a little more each time.
I could hear his quiet gasps, every time I brushed that perfect spot inside him, and deliberately aimed myself right there. My Sire wasn't going to have the chance to make me wait another hundred years to do that, I decided; no, I was gonna make him love it so much, he wouldn't even *think* of not letting me in any time I bloody well *wanted* in!
His entire big, rough body was trembling hard, and I could have sworn he'd tried to say my name, but all that had come out was "Wihhhhhh.....", but what the fuck, it was close enough. I rested my chest tight against his back, one hand slipping around him to grab hold of that thick, long cock of his, and fuck me if he wasn't throbbing hard enough to break rock. So I held that fucking lovely tube of hard flesh, and stroked it roughly in my palm, and suddenly, I couldn't hold myself to that slow, steady pace anymore. I could feel the ridges forming on my brow, feel my teeth becoming sharp and jagged, and that was just fine, because my Sire's round, hard ass was tighter around me than I remembered it being, and he was thrusting back onto me, fully impaling himself on my pulsing cock, and my own hips were moving like fucking pistons, and I'd never been so deep inside anyone before in my life; not even *him*! But his thick, rich blood was calling me, too, and that wasn't something I could ignore, so I drove my fangs hard into his shoulder, and slammed fully inside him once more as I filled him, and was filled by him.
I felt his thick, viscous seed flowing over my hand and onto the sheets; felt him trying to pull more of me inside him, but it was all over for that moment, and when he fell forward, into his pillows, I couldn't help but go with him. I wasn't quite ready to vacate his plundered anus just yet, after all. It became a moot point pretty quickly, though, because as my cock got softer, his sphincter started forcing it out, and finally I just accepted the inevitable and rolled from Angel's broad back, onto the bed beside him
I could see him glancing at me from the corner of his eye, and there was something so... tentative in that look, that I couldn't help wanting to comfort the sodding wanker, so "Sire," I said, the aftermath of my orgasm drawing sincerity from me, "Thank you." I almost cringed, waiting for whatever kind of poncy, souled guilt-fest he was gonna feel obliged to share with me, but... "No," he said, "Thank *you*, Will," and I truly couldn't believe he said that! It wasn't as disturbing as what he said *next*, though.
He fucking *loves* *me*! He loves me, and he's looking at me like I've lost my mind, and I know it's because I'm fucking crying, but fuck! What the bleedin' hell does he expect? I mean, here we just had ourselves a nice little shag session, and he has to go making it all about *love*! Couldn't just let it rest, and keep those words to himself, could he? Oh, no, of *course* not! Not 'Angel, Vampire with a Soul'! No, *he* has to turn this whole bloody be damned *thing* into some sort of a love-in!
And what makes it even worse is... I love him, too. From the moment I first opened my eyes on eternity, I've loved him almost more than I could stand. I'd like to think it's just because he was the sodding git who made me, and maybe that was true, at first. If it was, though, it's not any more. If I only loved him 'cause he turned me, I wouldn't have hated him so much the last time he *wasn't* souled. I would have gloried in the rough attentions, and even rougher punishments, he meted out to me, and... I didn't. I hated them; hated *him*. Hell, I even worked with the Slayer to defeat him, didn't I? But *this* man. This Angel. He's not the same. He's not even the same as he was *before*. I don't know everything that's happened to him here in LA, but *this* Angel is closer to Angelus than I ever would have thought, and yet, there's a quiet strength, a certain softness to him that I can't seem to get enough of. He's my Sire, and... I'd bloody well love him, even if he weren't. And that's the sad part.
But he's just looking at me, like he's waiting for some kind of reaction; more like he's waiting for a bomb to drop, actually, and I have no idea of what to say. The bloody, fucking tears are still pouring down my face, and I can't find a single *word* to say, other than "Angel..." And fuck, my voice sounds too bloody soft and poufy, but what the hell can I do about that? Not a damned thing, apparently.
I want to tell him everything that's been racing through my head; all the thoughts I'm having. But I can't. I can't open myself up like that to him; not yet. And I want to trust him, but... He's left me so many times before, and there's a big chunk of fucking demon inside me that thinks I've risked enough on the sodding pouf already, so I just turn my head, and press my lips hard to his palm, and when he slips one big, thick finger into my mouth, I wrap my tongue around it. This is so much easier than speaking. Safer. More interesting, too.
Well, apparently, Poufy thinks so, too, because he's suddenly moved closer, and his firm, soft lips are moving lightly over that bite he gave me, and when he pushes me onto my back, I don't do anything to stop him. *This* I understand. *This* I'm comfortable with.
Not too comfortable, though, because he's pulled that finger from my mouth, and his own mouth is moving slowly down my chest, and I'd honestly forgotten how his teeth felt when they nibbled at my nipples. He's reminding me, and he's doing a damned fine job of it, too. My hands are on his head, fingers tangled hard in his short dark hair, and I only miss his ponytail for a minute, because his tongue is creating entirely new memories for me.
The big ponce thinks he's so bloody threatening when he growls against my skin, but fuck that, I'm not afraid. He loves me, after all; said so himself. So I keep up the pressure on the top of his head, pushing his lips down my body faster. My Sire's never sucked my cock before, but it's time he did, especially after the thousands of blow jobs I've given him!
I guess he agrees, because he's poised right there. I can feel those small, unneeded breaths against my skin; feel my short, dark hairs moving slightly when he exhales, and *bloody* *fucking* *christ* *on* *a* *crutch*! "Yessss...." I hear myself hissing, and I can feel his eyes on me, but damned if I can open my own, because my fucking Sire's got me in the back of his throat, and I almost can't believe this is happening! He's sliding his lips up and down, his teeth are scraping hard against my shaft, and fuck me if this isn't the most incredible thing I've ever felt... other than his ass, his cock... Okay, but it's still right up there on the list of 'things to feel before I die... again'.
His fingers are bruisingly tight on my thighs, and that small bit of pain is just right, too, and I arch hard against the mattress, my eyes flying wide, and his slight, pleased growl as I start to cum is enough to draw even more ribbons of seed from me. The knowledge that he's swallowing is more than enough to make me sure that we have to do this again, and *soon*.
It's all over far too quickly for my liking, but what with as much of a big, poncy pouf he is, I figure it won't be long before we're at it again. We have a lot of years to make up for, after all. Well, *he* does. Bloody wanker never should have left me, *especially* if he's 'always' loved me! What the fuck kind of devotion does *that* show?
Oh, yeah, my Sire has a lot to make up for, and... I'm gonna enjoy letting him. Of course, after a while, I'll have to admit that I love him, too. In words, I mean. But until then? I'm gonna let the git apologize-- repeatedly. And if his way of apologizing is to worship my tight, hot little body? Well, he *is* my Sire, after all; it's hardly my place to tell him 'no'...
Oh, this is gonna be *fun*!
End.