DISCLAIMER: would JOSS let his characters do these things??? I think not.
RATING: NC-17-ish (just to be safe)
PAIRING: S/A
DISTRIBUTION: anyone I've said yes to; MY site (http://tisfic.tripod.com )
FEEDBACK: please???
DEDICATIONS: Jeannette, for the site and updates (love you, honey!!!); Nat, for the graphics. Also, to those who like this little effort enough to tell me so (Jen, Jenny, Titti, Myst-- thank you all!!!*VBG*)
NOTES: this started after the ep where Glory beat holy shit out of poor Spike. In my world, 'Epiphany' happened around the same time. Angel went to Sunnydale to help his childe (Dru sired no-one here!!!), and ended up taking the boy back to LA with him. * *= emphasis.
POV: Brood-boy's again. (anyone noticing a pattern here???*giggle*)
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I've *really* done it this time. You'd think I would have learned, after almost two and a half centuries of roaming this earth, but obviously, I haven't. Hell, just the last hundred and twenty some odd years should have taught me a few things. Like... certain people will take advantage of every single opening they get-- and that sounded strangely sexual, even to *me*. That's not the point, though.
He's a manipulative little shit. I know that. I've *always* known that. And yet, I went and gave him more ammunition than he's ever needed, and damned if he isn't using it, too. Every single day and night, he's using it.
I just *had* to go telling him I loved him, didn't I?
I lay there, and watched those tears of his, and even my demon-y half was... thrilled by them. It was an amazing thing, knowing that he cared that much. Oh, I'd felt in in his blood; in the way his tight, hard body arched against me, then into me... but feeling it and actually *seeing* it? Well, let's just say it wasn't the same.
I knew he wouldn't say the words himself; not until he was sure I wasn't going to run off again, or put him out, and that was okay. Still, my boy being the way he is, I also knew he needed some sort of proof, and while letting him take my ass had been a big step in the right direction, there was something else I could do to make myself even more clear. So I did.
I pressed my lips to that seeping bite I'd given him, and slowly nibbled down his chest. His nipples were hard little pebbles when I reached them, but that only meant they were easier to bite at.
Oh, he liked that. His hands flew to my head, fingers grabbing onto my hair, and that was good, as far as I was concerned. I hadn't tasted his skin in far too long, and I was so glad to be remembering the subtly spiced taste of him; to be having it imprinted on my memory once again.
Of course, my plan to slowly, seductively, trace his entire body with my tongue wasn't quite what he wanted, so it didn't really come as much of a surprise when he started pushing my head down his body, trying to hurry things along.
Now, I'm his Sire. I could have made him stop, and it wouldn't have been even slightly difficult. My Will didn't spend a few hundred years in Hell, growing stronger and harder. *I* *did*. But... I owed him. I owed him more than I thought I could ever repay, and... I didn't want whatever we were becoming to be anything like what we'd had before. No, our 'new' relationship couldn't be all about me topping him, because while that might satisfy my demon, this soul could never be happy with that.
So I let him rush me, although I *did* throw in a few small growls, just to appease the demon-y parts of me, and then... there I was, just inches away from that throbbing, jumping cock of his.
I really hit the jackpot when I made him, and who would have thought it? I mean, he was so ineffectual and timid as a human; who knew those tweed-y looking wool britches were hiding such a long, strong, beautiful cock? Hell, I'll bet that bitch he fancied himself in love with would have kicked herself if she'd known what she'd passed on. 'Beneath her', indeed-- she should have *been* so lucky.
But that was the farthest thing from my mind right then, because... I was going to do it. I was going to take my childe's cock in my mouth. I was going to do the one thing I'd never done for him, and... I had a feeling that even my demon would enjoy it, if the sense of hungry anticipation I could feel coming from that corner of my mind was anything to go on.
So I did. I licked my lips, and wrapped them around the slim, hooded tip of him, and *Gods*! I remember wondering how I could have gone over a hundred years without feeling this; without letting *him* feel this. But it wasn't something Angelus could have done; not without feeling like he'd lost his edge, anyway.
Of course, seeing as I'm not-- primarily-- Angelus, anymore, I didn't *have* that particular problem. I slid my mouth slowly to his base, and just the smell coming from his thick, coarse hairs against my nose was enough to have me throbbing hard again, but this was about Will, I told myself. His cock was all the way in the back of my throat, and it almost felt like that was where it belonged. Still, I pulled back, my teeth sliding roughly up him, and he groaned at the sensation.
That sound, coming from my boy, was almost more than I could stand, but... he'd done this for me, so many times, and I was truly starting to understand why he'd enjoyed it. He was completely at my mercy.
I could feel the stunned surprise inside me, as my demon realized... all the times he'd thought he was in control? Our childe had truly had the upper hand. When Will was on his knees, taking my demon-self's cock deep into his throat, *I'd* been the vulnerable one. My boy could have done anything, and I wouldn't have even known it until it was too late. It was a stunning blow to Angelus... to *me*, really, because I'd been doing it again. Thinking of my demon as a separate entity, when he's really just the darker half of my own self.
But my boy was hard and pulsing in my mouth, and every time I slid my lips down hard on him, then pulled up, sucking wickedly, he grunted, his hips arching into the pressure, and finally, I couldn't bear to drag things out any longer. I wanted to *taste* him; to feel him spasming and twitching in my mouth, just as he'd done in my ass just a little while earlier.
So, I tightened my fingers harshly on his thighs, my eyes locked on his straining, almost pained expression, and when I finally felt the first jetting spurt of his seed, I growled in sheer joy.
Well, that seemed to do it for him, because suddenly, my mouth was being bathed in truly amazing amounts of thick, salty fluid. I swallowed him down, my eyes closing even as I saw his open, and my own cock throbbed wildly again as that gushing flow slowed, and finally stopped.
I held his spent shaft softly between my lips for a moment, then, not letting go until his hands left my head to grasp lightly at my shoulders. Oh, yeah, he liked that. So did I, for that matter.
As it turns out, it's a damned good thing that I *did* like it, because in the six days since then, Will's cock seems to have taken up residence in my mouth. When it's not living in my ass, anyway. Not that that's a bad thing, but... he hasn't let me be the one in charge at all.
Not that he demands submission from me or anything, because that would never work, but every time I think I'm going to finally be let back in to my boy's tight, pale ass, he gives me that *look*-- that look that's so accusing, and almost disappointed, and I fucking *hate* it. It makes me feel guilty for wanting him the way I do, and wonder if I'm not doing him more harm than good, and...
The manipulative little shit's been playing me! And even worse, I've been letting it work. Well, no more. If we're going to have any sort of a relationship, he's going to have to understand that neither one of us is always going to be in control.
And maybe six days isn't really compensation for all the years I dominated him before I got this soul, but I'll be damned if I'm going to let him make me his bitch.
So I'm waiting silently in our room when I hear him coming up the stairs. He's taken to spending time at Lorne's bar; I guess because of the whole 'no fighting' rule, but he's back now, and it's time he knows that I'm done with laying down for him... all the time, anyway.
I stand behind the door, and when he comes in, I push it closed behind him. I think he's surprised that I've managed to get the drop on him, but he shouldn't be. I have a lot of years on him, after all.
If his slight growl is anything to go by, he doesn't particularly like being face-first against the wall, but right at the moment, I don't really care. And I know I'm going to have to buy him some new clothes, to replace the ones I've just torn from his body, but that's all right. It'll be money well spent.
I press myself hard against his naked back, my thick, pulsing cock tight against his spine, and when he tries to speak, I growl. The sound shuts him up pretty quick, too, and I can't help but smirk a bit.
"I've been letting you get away with a lot these last few days, childe," I tell him, my forearm hard against his shoulder blades while my other hand slips between us to clutch roughly at one pale ass cheek. I can feel him shaking just a bit at the sensation, and I almost think he's frightened, but the short, shuddering breath he releases just *reeks* of arousal, so I don't stop. That hand slides roughly to his deep, dry crack, and I drive one finger in, finding his tightly clenched anus.
He's trying so hard not to act like he's enjoying this, but I know better, so I'm not really surprised when his sphincter relaxes, and I slam that finger into him, hard and dry, and the demon inside me is crowing in triumph, because *I'm* in charge now, and my childe is going to get fucked.
I force that finger in and out, holding in my own gasps at the tightness of Will's ass, and when I ram a second finger in, and feel that first trickle of thick blood? It's all I can do not to have at him right then. But that's not the plan, so I torment him a bit more, adding a third digit after a few minutes.
"Sire... *please*!" he says, and he's actually whimpering. He's trying to thrust himself back harder on my hand, and I just *know* his cock is rubbing hard against the wall, but that's okay, because he's damned well going to say it! I'm tired of waiting; tired of fucking around. I'm tired of being the only one who's laid it on the line, and he's my fucking childe! He *will* say it, even if I have to torture him this way all night!
So, "Please, *what*, Will?" I purr, trying to let my tone make it clear that I *can* keep this up forever. It's a lie, of course, but *he* doesn't know that. "What do you want, boy?"
He really *is* shaking now, and not just from the way I'm fucking him with my hand. I think he knows what I want to hear, but... "Sire..." he groans, then "Angel!" His hips are still trying to rock back and forth, but he stops when I lean my full weight on the arm across his upper back.
"Tell me, William," I tell him, and I know he can hear the need in me, but I suddenly don't mind. He's been hearing it ever since I brought him back here, after all; no need to try hiding it now.
"Jesus fuck, Angel," he says, and he actually sounds impatient, "*Fuck* me, already!"
My boy seems to think that he's in charge here, and it's actually funny to me. Still, I don't laugh. No, I take my fingers from his bleeding asshole, and I pull back slightly, resting just the weeping tip of my cock against that tiny, perfect opening. I feel him going still, smell his anticipation, but... not yet. "You don't want me to 'fuck' you, boy. You want me to... what, Will? Say it, and you can have what you really want." I press myself ever-so-slightly closer, and I almost groan myself as he tries to push back onto me. "Just tell me, love," I whisper into his ear, and I can actually feel the moment he gives in.
His forehead rests against the wall, and a slight touch of defeat is clear in his suddenly accepting stance. "Make love to me, Sire," he finally says, sounding like he's just asked me to kill him, rather than take him.
I almost want to apologize for making him ask in those words, but I've said enough 'I'm sorry'-s to last me another hundred years, so "That's all you ever had to say," I tell him, and I take my arm from his shoulders. My hands fasten gently on his hips, and I pull his lower body away from the wall, sliding slowly... deeply... fully into my boy's perfect, tight, blood-slicked anus, and it's more than I ever thought to have. "I love you, Will," I remind him, my sac resting tight against his. "I love you," I say again, laying my cheek along the line of his spine.
There's something almost unbearably right about this now. Something that tells me that this is how we always should have been. How we *would* have been, if I hadn't run off when I was cursed the first time. Maybe my sweet Will would have been able to accept me, even if I wasn't able to accept myself. I'll never know, of course, but it's something to think about... later.
Right now, all I want to think-- to *know*-- is this perfection. This glorious, beautiful, indescribable moment of making love to my boy. "Will," I sigh, my arms wrapping around his waist as I stroke deeply into him.
He's sobbing, my childe is, and Gods, I want it to be because he's happy, and when I hear his slow, shuddering breath, I know it is. He's as caught in this sublime expression of true emotion as I am, and that's probably what's bothering him so much. Still, I wouldn't stop now, even if I could, so I pull myself almost completely out of him before I begin that long, slow, tender slide back in.
Just the feeling of his tight, flexible ring of muscle on my cock is making me crazy, but there's no way I'm going to rush this. What we're doing here is changing everything, and I know it. So does he, I'm guessing, because I can feel a sort of tension in him that I've never known before. His hands are against the wall, fingers splayed as he rocks gently back into my slow thrusts, and it's almost like... Oh, Gods. Something just broke inside him, because he turns his head, and I can see his bright, wet blue eyes, and I've never seen him look at *anyone* the way he's looking at me now. It like he's afraid to speak, but can't help it.
His mouth opens slowly, and he licks his lips, and the very strong sense of something hanging over us both stills me completely, even though I'm buried deep inside him. "Love you, Angel," he says, and he sounds sheepish, like he's telling me some secret he's ashamed of. "Really," he adds, even though I'm sure he can tell I believe him.
And I *do* believe him. I *know* he means it, and I'm so fucking glad he's finally said it; finally *admitted* it, that I'm crying myself. The tears are dripping down my cheeks, falling in small splashes of salt-tinged water on his back, and I didn't know it was going to affect me this way, but it for damned sure has. And then his anus tightens around me, and I'm moving in him again, and each time I slide deep, he moans out loud, repeating what he just said, and I can't fucking take this! One hand tightens hard around his ribs, while the other slides down to his cock, and he's harder than I ever thought possible.
I stroke him slowly, in time with my own thrusts, and I *feel* his entire body growing tighter and harder, and when I cum, deep inside him? His cock throbs hard in my hand, and thick ropes of that salty seed I love so much splash against the wall, and the loud, completely satisfied gasps coming from both our throats entwine in the heavy, still air of our room, and I want to stay like this forever-- spent and fulfilled, softening slowly inside my boy, his exhausted cock pulsing softly in my hand. It's like a dream I never want to wake from.
But there's one more thing I want to do, so I make sure his arms are supporting him well, and I slowly release his cock as I pull myself gently from his bleeding ass. I let myself slip down onto my knees, and my fingers gently pry his sticky cheeks apart, and I smile at the sight of his slightly torn anus, slick with blood and my juices. I smile a bit more when he gasps softly, but I think he's going to enjoy this. I know *I* am.
So I lean in, breathing deeply and catching the scent of myself in my boy's blood, and when I finally touch just the tip of my tongue to that wet, leaking bud? I know I was right. I lick gently at him, pulling the fluids from his surface, and when I press the point of my thick muscle into him, he leans back, silently begging for more. It's a request I'm more than happy to fulfill, and I slide my tongue into him as far as it will go.
I can't help moaning, myself, and it's only seconds before my Will is hard and ready again, but that all right, because so am I. This time, he gets to drive, though, because I love him, and I want him, and he deserves to.
I finish my self-appointed task, not pulling away until his rectum is clear of everything but my saliva, and when I stand up and pull him into my arms, I chuckle darkly. I made him bleed, and I have no illusions about the fact that I'll be bleeding myself, soon. But that's fine. We're vampires, not humans, and blood is the stuff of life. It binds us together, more than anything else ever could, except for one thing. Love.
I love him. He loves me. We're bound together in so many ways, and by just those two things. Love and blood. Blood and love. It's as it should be.
End.