Manchild

by Rina76

Out hunting, Connor saves a girl from vamps but 'she' turns out to be a very hot 'he'. With amnesia. Now this very pretty guy has to stay with Connor until his memory comes back. Connor always thought he wasn't into guys. Until now.

Title: Manchild

Author: Rina76

Email:

Pairing: Connor/OMC

Rating: NC-17, M/M sex

Status: Complete

Summary: Connor saves a girl from vamps but 'she' turns out to be a very hot 'he'. Connor thought he wasn't into guys. He thought wrong. Slash, M/M

Disclaimer: I do not own Angel the television show or any of the characters in it. I am not making any money from the writing of this fictional story.

Note: This is an old reposted story. There are actually two stories here – Manchild and the sequel, Son of Angel. I had originally posted them here in individual chapters but have decided to post them all together for ease of finding so it's gonna be one long wall of text! Sorry, but I don't have time to break them up. Hope you enjoy anyway.

…

Part 1.

"No, I don't want a drink and I don't want to dance, okay?" the tall blonde woman yelled, shoving the annoying, moustached man in the chest who'd been hanging around her all night. "Just piss off and leave me alone!"

She turned away from him and found a scrawny, auburn haired guy who didn't even look old enough to be in the club watching the exchange with interest. "Men. You all suck," she hissed as she stalked past him to get her coat. Why did this always happen to her? Whenever she went out to have a good time, some creep would come on to her and hound her for the rest of the evening until she did something rash like pour a drink over their head or yell at them like she just did to that jerk.

"That's it. I'm going home," she muttered, collecting her coat. She escaped out of the side entrance normally used by staff and found herself in an alley. To her disbelief that infuriating man appeared and cut off her exit.

"You just can't take a hint, can you?" she asked scathingly. "What are you, fucking brain dead?"

The dark haired guy with the moustache smiled and something weird happened. His face changed until he didn't look human anymore. His forehead went all bumpy, his eyes turned yellow, glowing unearthly in the dark and his canine teeth grew incredibly long. She gasped in fear.

"No," he sneered. "Just dead. Like you're gonna be soon, bitch."

Her body flooding with adrenaline, the girl attempted to run back inside the club for safety but the creature suddenly materialised in front of her, moving too fast to see. He backhanded her across the face, sending her flying sideways into a brick wall. She saw stars as her temple cracked against the bricks. She felt blood start to drip down the side of her face. The thing, the monster grabbed her left leg and began to drag her towards him, growling like an animal. She lashed out in panic and her free foot, with spiked high heel shoe on it, connected with his crotch. He howled in pain and clutched his groin.

Then, from out of nowhere, a blur of motion flashed into her vision and the scary fanged guy abruptly disintegrated into a pile of ashes. The last thing she saw was a hand, gripping a sharp wooden stick in mid-air. She groaned and passed out.

When she came to, she was in an unfamiliar bed, in a room she'd never seen before. There was a lot of junk and odd bits of furniture scattered around the place, as well as lit candles. Out through a window, she could see it was still night time. Perched under that window, on a brick ledge was a figure, watching her carefully.

"You!" she exclaimed, sitting up in shock. A wave of nausea swept through her and she moaned, holding her head, a black cloud of pain forming in front of her eyes.

"Oh, shit. Shit…" she mumbled, attempting to keep the contents of her stomach down. She felt a hand on her back, rubbing soothingly.

"Don't try to get up. You'll just faint again. Take deep breaths." The disembodied voice was reassuring and smooth like caramel.

She sucked in a shaky lungful of air and let it out slowly, repeating the pattern until the fog lifted and she didn't feel like puking any more. She raised her head and gazed at the guy who still had his hand on her back comfortingly. He couldn't have been any more than sixteen, seventeen at the most. He was wearing tatty jeans and a t-shirt over another long-sleeved top. His hair was a rich, reddish brown, parted in the middle and falling to his shoulders in a sleek curtain. There was a beauty mark under the left corner of his soft, sensual lips, highlighting his pale, unlined complexion. His features were fine, almost feminine yet he definitely oozed testosterone.

But the most striking thing about him were his eyes. Oh, she'd never seen such amazing eyes, vivid peacock blue, ringed in black and offset by dark, feathery lashes. He was watching her closely and intently, with unmasked curiosity.

"You're too young," she said wonderingly. He frowned slightly.

"For what?"

"To be out clubbing, for one thing. And saving my life? You're only a kid for goodness sakes."

He seemed to take offence at that and she could feel him bristling. He took his hand off her back and pulled himself up to his full height, which was about five feet six inches. He was very slender, almost too thin.

"I'm nearly eighteen," he stated, sounding annoyed. "And if it wasn't for me, you'd be dead right now."

"Yeah, about that," she began, recalling creepy yellow eyes and sharp teeth. "What the hell was wrong with that guy?"

The boy shrugged. "Vampire."

The young lady nearly choked on her own tongue. "Vampire?"

"L.A. is crawling with them," he said, as if he was talking about rats or cockroaches. "I kill them."

She squinted at him. "You kill vampires?"

He shrugged again, nonchalantly. "Somebody has to. They're evil."

"Vampires are real?" She gaped at the boy. He gestured to her ankle which had scratch marks on it from the creature's long fingernails.

"You saw it. Look what it did to you."

She let out a long, heavy breath. "Holy crap. Vampires are real," she repeated, this time completely believing the words. She saw how the guy's face changed right before her very eyes and felt how monstrously strong he was. He'd sent her flying against a brick wall with one slap. Her fingers came up and found a wad of cotton wool held over her head wound with sticking plaster. The weird boy must have done that.

"Listen, sorry I've been so rude, honey," she said contritely. "I'm just really spinning out here. Thanks for saving my ass, er…"

"Connor."

"Connor, right. Thank you. By the way, I'm….I'm…" She found to her horror that she couldn't remember her own name. In fact, she couldn't remember anything at all leading up to the attack outside the nightclub. Not her age, not her address, not even what kind of ice-cream she liked. Or even if she liked ice-cream at all.

"I don't know," she whispered. "I don't know who I am. Oh God, do you think I have amnesia, like on the movies?"

Connor didn't blink. "It's possible. You hit your head hard."

"Just great," she muttered. "I have no memory, I've been attacked by a blood-sucking freak, I'm in some strange guy's bed…ooh, is that my bag?"

She spied a very familiar looking velvet bag hanging on the back of a wooden chair and Connor retrieved it and passed to her. Her hopes of at least finding out her name were dashed when she discovered all that was in there was a key, money, lipstick and condoms.

"Dammit. I'm a Jane Doe," she cried despondently, flinging the useless bag on the floor. Her long blonde hair resembled a mass of golden threads falling around her face and down her back, her lovely green eyes were troubled and shiny with burgeoning tears, her red-lipsticked mouth starting to tremble.

"Don't worry. Your memory will probably come back soon," Connor said, trying to placate this beautiful but emotional woman who was surely about to cry on him. He was not good with crying. "Why don't you make something up until then?"

"Hmm, okay," she said brightening at the idea. "How about Leia, you know after Princess Leia? I love her. She rocks." Then she made a sound of disgust. "Oh, I can remember the names of all the characters in every Star Wars film but I can't recall what I had for breakfast. This sucks."

"That's what you said about men," Connor reminded her with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Oh, I didn't mean you, sugar," she hastily retracted. "I was just pissed at the vamp guy. You are obviously different, showing up like a knight on a white steed and all."

She flicked her gaze around the room. "I don't mean to sound bitchy and ungrateful, but why didn't you take me to a hospital?"

"My place was closer," he said by way of explanation. "You didn't seem that hurt."

He cocked his head at her inquisitively. "Do you feel better now?"

She gingerly touched her temple. "Apart from one motherfucker of a headache, I'm okay. I don't have the urge to throw my dinner up all over your bedspread any more."

Connor actually smiled then and it was surprisingly beautiful. "I'm glad."

He curled his small form down on the edge of his bed and gazed at her with those startlingly pretty eyes. "Would you like something to drink? Or food? I can break into a vending machine around the corner."

'Leia' looked at him strangely. Stolen vending machine food? Maybe he had no money. Maybe he was squatting here. That made sense. He appeared to be wearing second hand clothes and everything in the room looked as if he'd found it among unwanted kerbside rubbish.

"Thanks but no thanks, pet. Food and me are not compatible right now," she replied, the thought of eating making her stomach churn. "I'm trying to keep your bed puke free. I think I just need to lie down for a bit longer."

"You can stay here," Connor offered. "Until you remember where you live."

She debated the idea. She had nowhere else to go, unless she went to a motel but she didn't really feel like spending the night alone, still shook up over almost being a midnight snack for one of the undead. If there were more of those things out there…she shivered. At least if she stayed with Connor, he'd protect her. She didn't know him, didn't know anything about him except his name and that he was some kind of one man vampire vigilante, but for some reason she trusted him. Somehow, intuitively, she knew she was safe with him, that he wouldn't hurt her. And a nice, long, recuperating rest sounded exactly like what she needed. Who knows? Her memory might come back when she woke up.

"Are you gonna stay here while I sleep?" she asked him.

"If you want," he said, looking at her in that scrutinising way, like he was trying to figure out what her motives were.

"I do," she whispered, hugging herself, feeling suddenly scared and vulnerable. "I don't want to be alone right now, Connor. Please."

"Then I'll stay."

"Thank you," she said softly.

He flashed another quick smile at her and said, "You're welcome. Leia."

She returned his smile, feeling both silly and relieved at once. He helped her slip underneath the blankets and pulled them up over her like a dad would do for his daughter. Except a dad wouldn't stare at his daughter's swelling bosoms under the tight dress she was wearing. Leia yanked the blankets up a little higher and he finally looked back at her face.

"Sleep," he ordered. "I'll be here if you need anything." He leapt up onto the windowsill again and proceeded to whittle away at a stick. She realised he was making stakes. Wooden stakes. For the vampires.

"What a fucked up night," she breathed to herself.

She watched Connor for a short while, wielding the sharp knife dexterously, as if he'd been born with one in his fingers and he glanced up and caught her observation, quirking his lips, then turned back to the task at hand. She found herself quite intrigued by this streetwise Peter Pan-type child. A kid who dusted Nosferatu as easily as hitting a baseball. A kid who carried her taller, heavier figure all the way here by himself and bandaged her injury. A kid who was actually rather cute in a lost, scruffy puppy kind of way.

Eventually, her eyes couldn't stay open any longer and she slept.

Holding a knife against the throat of the strange man who had just come out of his bathroom, Connor barked, "Who are you? And what did you do to Leia?"

He pressed the cold metal blade harder against the man's neck, all his muscles tensed like tightly-wound springs and his jaw clenched hard. The deadly light in his long-lashed blue eyes proved he was ready and willing to kill the intruder without thinking twice about it.

Blown away and terrified by how fast the teenage boy had sprung from out of thin air and shoved him against the wall, the man gulped and held up his hands in surrender, dropping a bundle of clothes onto the floor in his fright.

"Whoa, take it easy, cupcake! It's me."

Connor frowned, looking at the other male very closely. Something about that voice and those green eyes seemed to ring a bell. In disbelief, he demanded, "Leia?"

"Yeah, Connor. It's me! C'mon, be a good boy and put the knife down, huh?"

Very slowly, Connor took the knife away and backed off but still held the weapon pointed towards the other man's heart. His sharp gaze swept over the second figure, taking in every detail. Standing in front of him, wearing one of Connor's towels wrapped around his waist, was a man in his twenties. He was around four inches taller than Connor, his naked torso smooth, tanned and hairless, as were his arms and legs, and there was a silver ring through his left nipple. His belly had defined abdominal muscles and his body was the slender, androgynous type favoured by designers these days but not skinny like Connor, more toned and lean. His hair was jet black, curly and still damp and there was the shadow of stubble on his chin and upper lip.

Connor would not have recognised this obviously male person as being the same young woman he'd rescued last night if it wasn't for the scabbed over cut on his temple and his eyes. Those eyes were the distinct, opaque colour of green Gummi Bears, Connor remembered thinking that, only now they didn't have all that glittery makeup around them any more. But his lashes were still long and dark.

"You weren't here when I woke up so I took a shower," the guy formerly known as Leia explained hurriedly. "I hope that was okay."

Connor continued staring. That soft, slightly husky voice. That really was her.

Or used to be. Finally, he said, "But…You're a man."

"You noticed that, huh?" the guy replied, grinning sheepishly at Connor. "Oh, and I think I know my name now. Read this."

He removed a Celtic ring from his middle finger and held it out to Connor, who hesitated, as if the silver band was a poisonous spider, then quickly snatched it. He scrutinized the jewellery, holding it with one hand while the other still aimed the knife at the towel-clad man. There was an engraving on the inside of the ring.

"To Sebastian, all my love Brad." Connor looked back up, puzzled and suspicious at once.

"Don't you see? I must be Sebastian," the green eyed man deduced. "God, it's good to have a name. I was starting to feel like I was nobody. Like the invisible man."

By the intense, distrustful way Connor was eyeing him, Sebastian knew he certainly was not invisible. He felt like he had a big red target on his chest.

"Why were you dressed as a woman?" The auburn haired boy asked, utterly perplexed. He flung the ring back to its owner who caught it and slipped it on his finger again.

Sebastian shrugged. "I do that sometimes."

"Why?"

"For fun," Sebastian said. "And because I'm queer. At least I remember that much."

"Queer?" Connor asked, clearly not understanding.

"You know, homosexual? Gay?"

Connor gave him a blank look. "Oh, don't tell me you don't know what gay means," Sebastian said incredulously. "What, did you grow up on another dimension or something?"

A strange emotion flitted across Connor's face. "Actually, I did."

"Well, I don't know where you come from," Sebastian began, "but here in LA and the rest of the world, there are millions of guys like me."

"Like you?"

Sebastian knew he had to be gentle with this naïve one. "Sweetie, some guys are born liking women, and some, like yours truly, are born liking men. In a romantic way," he added, in case the boy wasn't entirely sure what he meant. "There's nothing wrong with it. It's just the way it is. The universe is a strange and wonderful place, cherub."

He could see Connor digesting this information and the different expressions that crossed his face as he realised what 'gay' actually was. There was shock at first, then uncomfortable awareness, which melted into something like reluctant curiosity. He lowered the knife, apparently deciding Sebastian wasn't an immediate threat but those blue, sapphire-like eyes remained fixed on him like laser beams.

"The way you talk. You remind me of someone," Connor said. "His name's Lorne."

"Oh, really? Is he queer, too?" Sebastian asked.

"I'm starting to think so, now," Connor replied dryly. He noticed Sebastian looking at him interestedly.

"Lorne, huh? What kind of a name is that?"

"You wouldn't like him," Connor said shortly. "He's a demon."

"Demon?" Sebastian repeated, his brows raised.

"Horns. Green skin. Demon." Connor was a man of few words but did they ever have impact.

"Christ. First vampires, now demons?" Sebastian scratched his head, his brain trying to cope with the information overload. "I suppose you're gonna tell me that werewolves are real too."

"Yes," Connor affirmed. "Ghosts. Giant bugs. All kinds of nasties."

From the unaffected tone of his voice, Sebastian had no doubt he was telling the truth.

"Hmmm," Sebastian mused, gazing at the enigmatic young boy. "You know about these sorts of creatures, creatures that aren't even supposed to be real but you've never heard of cross-dressing homosexuals? Don't you ever watch movies? Did you even GO to high school? What exactly did your parents teach you?"

"I never saw a movie until I was sixteen, I didn't go to school and my mother is dead," Connor told him flatly. "Come to think of it, so is my father."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, darlin'," Sebastian replied empathetically, mentally kicking himself for putting his foot in his mouth. "Let me guess. Vampires."

Surprised, Connor asked, "How did you know?

"Well, it seems like your only mission in life," Sebastian reasoned, "apart from acting all Boy Wonder, is to hunt bloodsuckers. And if you're an orphan, I kinda figured that your parents were killed by them and you want revenge. Isn't that how Batman got started?"

"Oh. Right. Batman." Sebastian was way off, however, Connor wasn't about to tell him the horrible, freakish reality of his birth, having two vampires as parents, something that was impossible, something that was never supposed to happen but for some unknown reason, did. His mother, Darla, staked herself so that he could live and his father, Angel, was alive, or rather, undead, but they didn't get along at all. Quite simply, Connor hated his guts and swore one day he was going to kill him. In fact, he'd already tried a couple of times. Yeah, his family life was just peachy. He wasn't going to tell Sebastian any of that so he let the other guy believe his own assumption.

Sebastian swung his head around at the boy's unusually decorated home. "So, going by your place, I'll take a wild guess and say you don't have a job."

"My job is to dust vampires," Connor proclaimed strongly.

"I mean one that pays. Like a salary?" Sebastian queried.

"I don't need money." Connor lifted a narrow shoulder. "Whatever I need, food, clothes, whatever, I just go out and take it."

"Okay, that'll work." Sebastian felt a surge of admiration for this odd, unschooled yet unmistakably smart and tough kid who didn't rely on anyone for help and took care of himself.

"I don't suppose you could go out and rustle me up some clothes, urchin? Something that's not a dress?" He indicated to the women's clothes on the floor, including the high heels and a blonde wig. Connor's eyes fell to the female accessories and saw a padded bra. He jerked his gaze back to Sebastian's face, glowering with rage at the deception, especially since he had begun to have a crush on 'Leia' and it turned out 'she' didn't even exist. He didn't like being made a fool of.

"Hey, dollface," Sebastian started softly, seeing his anger. "I'm sorry I lied to you but revealing my wedding tackle was not high on my list of priorities last night. I mean, I almost got eaten by the undead Freddie Mercury. If you'd known I was a man, you would have kicked me out and I was scared and didn't have anywhere else to go."

Connor remained unmoved. Sebastian sighed, knowing he'd outstayed his welcome.

"Look, I really appreciate everything you did for me. Truly. You've been awesome. And if you get me some clothes, I'll get out of your hair, okay?"

After a momentary pause, Connor asked, "Where are you gonna go?"

Sebastian shrugged helplessly. Even though he knew his name and his sexual orientation, he still didn't have the rest of his memory back. "I don't know. But it's not your worry. I'll find somewhere."

There was a long heavy silence. The two males looked at each other. Sebastian with regret that he had to part company with this spunky, fascinating, incredibly brave boy and Connor attempting to work out what he should do with this woman-turned-man who was still strangely attractive, even without boobs and long blonde hair. Even though he was still upset about being lied to, Connor found it comforting having someone else around. He hadn't talked this much to anyone, apart from Cordelia, in weeks, not since Angel unceremoniously kicked him out of the hotel.

Eventually, Connor said quietly, "You don't have to leave."

Sebastian blinked. "I don't?

"You shouldn't be out there, alone with no memory. Something could happen to you. If it did…" Connor halted and looked away. "I'd feel responsible."

"You're right. Apparently, I can't fight my way out of a wet paper bag," Sebastian admitted mockingly, recalling his girly attempt to thwart the vamp's advances.

"Wearing high heels doesn't help either. Jesus. How lame do I feel, having a seventeen year-old kid kick ass better than I can? And I'm older. And bigger."

He grinned and stated, "My only consolation is that I kicked him in the balls before you staked him. Where the fuck did you learn to move like that?"

"Qor'toth."

"And that is?" Sebastian asked, not knowing if that was place or a name or an ancient style of martial arts practised by Monks in Siberia.

"Far away. Very far away," Connor added.

"You don't elaborate much, do you?" Sebastian quipped. "Are you attempting to break the world record for the least amount of words used in a single lifetime?"

He caught Connor staring at his nipple ring and the boy blushed and dropped his eyes to the floor. Connor found the older male's semi-nakedness extremely disconcerting. He turned away, muttering, "I'll get you some clothes."

The vampire killer disappeared and returned in fifteen minutes. Sebastian had been nosing around, trying to find some clues to solve the riddle named Connor. All he'd found were weapons. Sharp, pointy dangerous-looking weapons.

Connor thrust a ball of clothes at Sebastian. "These should fit."

"Thanks, kid," he said and began to take his towel off then, witnessing Connor's awkward embarrassment, tucked it back in and went to the bathroom, smiling to himself. "Oh yeah. Junior wants to taste manflesh," he murmured under his breath, unaware that Connor heard him with his super-hearing and turned a darker shade of red.

Unrolling the bundle of clothes, he found a pair of nicely worn-in blue jeans, a fashionable striped, long sleeve shirt and a pair of black army boots. The clothes smelled clean and fresh, as if Connor had pinched them straight off someone's washing line. Which he probably did. There was no underwear so Sebastian decided to freeball it and just go without. He stared at himself in the mirror and tugged the sleeves of the shirt down. They were a little short but it was good enough. And the pants fit really well.

"How do I look?" he jested when he came out of the bathroom, feeling weirdly self-conscious in front of Connor's open and astonished appraisal.

Connor swallowed and eventually replied, "Different."

"Do you think I look better as a man or a woman?" Sebastian mulled. "'Cos some people say I make a pretty woman but an even prettier man. Go figure." He shrugged.

Connor didn't answer. He didn't know what to think. It was true, Sebastian had made a beautiful woman but it was all fake, an illusion. The discovery of a name had changed things irrevocably and now that he had men's clothes on, Sebastian was like a totally unrelated person to 'Leia'. He acted more masculine, standing and walking in a more relaxed, loose manner and even his voice sounded deeper. Those breasts he had been admiring last night now lay on the floor and Sebastian's chest was hard and flat. Connor could see the outline of his nipple ring through the striped shirt and he dragged his gaze up to Sebastian's face, thinking to his burning shame that the other male's mouth still appeared full and red and alluring without lipstick, then quickly glanced down at his own feet, not knowing where to look yet not wanting to look away.

Sebastian could sense his overwhelming confusion. "Connor, if me being here is making you uncomfortable, I can go," he said understandingly. "I have proper clothes now, thank you again, and I have some money left, so maybe I should go to a cheap, roach-infested motel or something and hope my brain unfogs in time for Christmas. I mean, you've done enough for me already. I don't expect anything more."

Connor timidly raised his head, unwilling to let this charismatic and undeniably interesting amnesiac leave just yet. Without Cordelia there, it was so boring during the day with no vamps to kill. "You can stay," he said softly. "I got breakfast."

With a deceptively delicate hand, he gestured to the bed where various small packages were strewn about on the blankets.

Sebastian grinned, showing even white teeth. "Vending machine food?"

Connor nodded.

"Chocolate and potato chips for breakfast," Sebastian drawled. "Well, you little cat burglar, how can I possibly turn that down?"

Connor invited him to sit on his bed and they consumed a healthy meal of junk food, washed down with cans of cola. Sebastian quizzed Connor as they munched away.

"So, where did you vaporise to this morning? Staking more vamps? Meeting your other superhero friends in your secret headquarters?"

Connor swallowed a mouthful of chocolate. He ate as if he was starving.

"I don't have any friends." As an after thought, as if he knew what the older guy was going to ask, he added, "Or family."

At the blunt confession, Sebastian wisely chose not to ask why. Something about his demeanour suggested Connor didn't want to talk about it. "Well, you got a girlfriend, Romeo?"

Connor shook his head.

"Whose stuff is that in the bathroom, then?" Sebastian enquired. He was pretty sure Connor didn't need Tampax and wax strips.

"Oh, that's Cordy's. She stays here sometimes. But she isn't…We're not together."

"Uh huh." Sebastian noted how Connor's face seemed to close off as he said that.

"Not your idea, obviously. Well, the ice princess doesn't know what she's missing out on, hot stuff." He winked at Connor who didn't quite know how to take being flirted with. Sebastian thought the way his cheeks pinkened was so darn cute he wanted to take a photo and put it in his wallet. If he had a wallet.

"So stud, how many lovers have you managed to cram into your short lifetime?"

The boy muttered, "None." Then he volunteered, "A girl kissed me once. But she died."

Sebastian nearly choked on a peanut. "From kissing you?"

"From bad medicine." The angry, powerless look in Connor's eyes spoke volumes to Sebastian.

"Drug overdose, huh? I'm sorry. That bites."

"Yeah." Connor's short simple word conveyed the fury he still felt over the needless death of the first person who was nice to him on this dimension.

Sebastian rinsed his mouth out with a swig of ice-cold cola. "With your drop dead gorgeous looks, I'm surprised the chicks aren't throwing themselves at you," he remarked to the kid.

Connor's lips twisted wryly. "The other night, I saved a woman from vamps. She said she was going to reward me. Then she asked for fifty bucks."

Sebastian laughed. At Connor's indignant expression, he clarified, "Oh, put your claws back in wildcat, I'm not making fun of you. That's typical LA." His green eyes caressed Connor's exquisite face and body. His tone growing low and sultry, he said, "You know, if I'd been her, I would have done you for free, baby. All night long."

He saw Connor gulp, the quick bob of his Adam's apple underneath the skin of his white throat. Sebastian swept the empty wrappers off the bed and plucked the half full can of cola out of Connor's hand and placed it on the floor. The younger male warily watched as Sebastian's hand came to rest on his thigh. He jerked at the contact, his blue eyes wide.

"Relax, Connor," Sebastian coaxed huskily. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm gonna reward you for saving my life. That hooker lied to you but I'm not."

He carefully slid his palm along the other boy's lean thigh, encased in soft denim, aware that Connor could probably kill him with his bare hands if he felt threatened. He searched Connor's face for a sign of resistance. The seventeen year-old looked scared out of his wits but he wasn't attempting to stop Sebastian's touch.

And he was definitely excited. The shape of his erection was evident through his jeans. Sebastian moved his hand upward to Connor's face and stroked his cheek. Connor inhaled quickly and Sebastian could see the frantic glint in his eyes.

"Trust me, babydoll," he whispered, brushing the boy's silky auburn hair back off his forehead. "I won't hurt you. I'll make you feel good, I promise."

He traced the outline of Connor's soft, Cupid's bow mouth with the pad of his thumb and the boy lowered his eyelids for a moment, shivering involuntarily. The older male laid his palm on Connor's chest and could feel his heart racing uncontrollably. Sebastian gently manoeuvred Connor back onto the bed. As he unzipped the kid's fly, Connor grabbed his wrist and stopped him, his spidery fingers like a steel clamp on his flesh.

"What are you doing?" Connor asked anxiously, his voice taut with alarm.

"It's called a blow job," Sebastian informed him with a teasing smile. "You'll like it. I guarantee it. If you don't, I give you permission to cut my head off with that broadsword in the corner."

Connor's grip slowly uncurled from around his wrist. Sebastian uncovered the teenager's cock and wrapped his fingers around the hot, solid length. Connor jumped again. Sebastian bent his head, just about to take him into his mouth and Connor protested, "Don't… You shouldn't do that…"

Looking up through his lashes, Sebastian said, "You can imagine I'm a girl if you like. If it makes it easier for you." Then he let Connor's dick slide past his lips.

Connor gasped as he felt a warm, wet mouth around his cock for the very first time. He masturbated a few times a week, he had to or he'd explode from his rampant hormones, but he'd never felt anything like this before. He thought he might die from the staggering pleasure. Sebastian slowly and sensually swirled his tongue around Connor's hardness, intending to give the boy the best oral sex he'd ever given when he felt Connor's hand suddenly tangle in his hair, encouraging him or trying to stop him, he didn't know which, and then hot spurts of semen were filling his mouth.

"Oh," Connor exclaimed. "Oh. Oh! OH!" He shuddered, his belly turning rigid and hard as a board then, his climax over, his body went limp and soft. He was breathing fast. Sebastian licked his lips, sat back and knelt between Connor's legs, smiling affectionately at him.

"I told you you'd like it, handsome," he reminded. "I kinda hoped to do it for a bit longer though, but hey. Good while it lasted."

Connor looked down at himself, at his clean stomach and then back up at the other male. "What…what did you do with…?"

"Your cum? I swallowed it."

Connor appeared horrified.

"It's okay, Connor," Sebastian assured him. "It was nice. I do that all the time."

He frowned. "I think." Connor still wasn't convinced so Sebastian said, "That's what gay men do, pumpkin. It's perfectly natural."

"It is?"

"Absolutely. It's just one of the many ways to show someone you desire them."

"You …you desire me?" Connor asked, his forehead wrinkled.

"Fuck yeah," Sebastian emphasised. "You're extremely desirable, angel."

Connor's hackles went up and he glared at Sebastian. "Don't call me that. Ever!"

"All right, all right. Sorry," Sebastian said hurriedly, wondering what the reason was behind that nasty little snarl.

Connor must have realised how confounding his outburst was as he said in a meeker tone, "It's just…it's the name of someone I hate."

Sebastian arched his brow. "Well, that explains it. So, is it all right if I call you baby and sugar and so forth? I mean, I know for sure that I only say that stuff to people I really like. Like you."

"That's all right," Connor replied softly, flattered and floored that someone actually liked him and wasn't trying to beat him up or zap him with a stun gun for once.

"Well. How would you like another blow job? I don't think I've rewarded you enough yet." Sebastian's green eyes sparkled with mischief. He was having quite a bit of fun with this kid and the fooling around was taking his mind off his worrying memory loss rather effectively.

"Um." Connor squirmed.

Sebastian stroked Connor's thigh playfully. "Only if you want."

Connor took a deep breath. "Okay."

As Sebastian slipped Connor's jeans down further, he spied the ring on his own finger and recalled the inscription on the inside. He wondered if 'Brad' was his boyfriend.

"It's not cheating if I don't remember you," he murmured, justifying his actions.

"What?"

"Oh nothing, gingerbread," Sebastian assured Connor who was gazing at him with fabulous dark blue eyes. "You just lie there and enjoy this. It's an order."

He sucked Connor's semi-erect organ into his mouth and felt him turn all the way hard again. Connor groaned, trying to pretend it was a woman sucking on him but failing miserably. He gave up. Sebastian's masculine lips and tongue just felt too nice. And Connor was used to being confused and bewildered about himself and about other people. Living in this place pretty much made sure he felt like that every day. He stopped attempting to figure out what was going on and just surrendered to the new and exhilarating feelings spiralling through his adolescent body.

Sebastian halted long enough to say to Connor, "God, you taste good," and sunk the auburn-haired boy's cock back into his mouth. He pleasured Connor this way for a while, loving the sounds he was making deep in his throat and looking up at the agonised ecstasy contorting his face. Then, when he knew the young man was about to orgasm again, he quit and stripped his shirt off.

Connor cracked his eyelids open and asked in frustration, "Why did you stop?"

Sebastian smiled seductively at him and said, "How would you like to lose your cherry, Connor?"

"Cherry?"

"You know, your virginity? Would you like to have sex? With me?"

Connor creased his brow at Sebastian's invitation. He was not a woman. "How?"

"How?" The curly-haired older man repeated. "Easy, rosebud. I'll show you."

He took off his jeans, leaving them puddled on the floor, and lay next to Connor, nude. His cheeks darkening in a mixture of embarrassment and excitement, Connor quickly took in the sight of another man's penis, long and hard, with a tuft of black ringlets over the pubic bone, finding Sebastian's smooth, bronzed body just as bewitching as a female's. Not that he'd actually seen a real, live naked girl. He was particularly fascinated by Sebastian's nipple ring.

"Touch it," Sebastian urged. When Connor made no move, he took the boy's hand and put it on his chest. Connor experimentally grazed his fingertips over the nipple with the ring in it.

"What's it for?" he queried.

"For pleasure," Sebastian answered. "It makes it even more sensitive. Go on, pull it." Connor looked doubtful but he did what he was told. He grasped the ring in his fingers and tugged it, causing the recipient to moan quietly.

"Harder."

Connor obeyed and yanked the small circle of silver more forcefully. Sebastian hissed and squeezed his eyes shut as a blaze of tingling sparks coursed through his chest and radiated down to his groin.

"Does it hurt?" Connor sounded concerned.

Sebastian shook his head with his eyes still closed. "No. It's good. Do it again."

He gasped in sexual rapture as he felt the bite of another pull and was overcome with the strong impulse to throw the boy over and take his enticing little milky-white ass but he managed to restrain himself. Connor was too young, too inexperienced, and too innocent to be fucked like that. Sebastian didn't think he would appreciate being practically raped. Plus, there were far too many razor-sharp weapons within reach and he knew the kid wouldn't hesitate to use them on him. Sebastian had to physically remove Connor's tormenting fingers before he lost control, did something rash and got himself killed.

"Let's get you undressed, butterfly," Sebastian suggested, willing himself to calm down. The waif-child allowed him to peel off his t-shirt and roll his jeans down his legs so they were both naked.

"Oh, Connor. You're so damn beautiful," he said impassionedly, drinking in the younger male's delectable, svelte body, his creamy skin – flawless apart from the small mole under his mouth, his long shapely limbs, his soft flat belly, his dusky pink nipples and his perfect, perfect cock surrounded by curls the same auburn colour as the hair on his head.

"I am?" Connor looked sceptical and vulnerable and bashful all at once.

"You are," Sebastian said firmly. He reached out and touched the satiny skin of Connor's chest, circling his nipples and making them peak. "Can I kiss you? Will you let me do that?"

"Mmm." Connor made a purr of agreement, losing himself in the fingers that were doing delightful things to his nipples. He felt Sebastian half lean on him, the other guy's curly black hair tickling his face, and press his mouth against his own.

He sort of remembered how to do this. Sunny, the girl, the one that died, she had given him a bit of a lesson in making out. The time Cordy kissed him only lasted for two seconds before she pushed him away, so it didn't really count. Sebastian wasn't pushing him away, however. Not at all. He opened for Sebastian and returned the delicious wet, stroking thrusts of his tongue, liking it very much, even with the raspy stubble on the second guy's chin. Yeah, kissing was great! There was an unfamiliar salty, bitter taste in Sebastian's mouth and Connor realised, slightly jarred, that it was his own seminal fluids. It wasn't gross, though, as he thought it would be.

Sebastian kissed Connor, who tasted like chocolate and candy, long and deep then his tantalising mouth moved to Connor's lovely pale throat, sucking, gently biting, then down further to his nipples and made more mewling noises come out of the younger boy without his consent.

Knowing the kid was like bread dough in his hands, Sebastian whispered, "Do you want to lose your cherry now?"

"Yes. Yes, I do," Connor moaned, not really understanding what was going to happen next, only knowing that he wanted it, he wanted whatever Sebastian was going to do to him. Real bad.

Sebastian went down on him again, but only long enough to get Connor's dick lubed up with saliva. Then he lay on his side, reached behind him and pulled Connor's willowy frame against him. Connor made a pleased sound at the intimate feel of skin on skin, his belly pressed to Sebastian's graceful, muscular back. The older male smelled like soap and shampoo, clean and perfumed and under that, the unmistakable musk of man. He touched the smooth flesh of Sebastian's hip and thigh, finding it like suede, like softened leather.

"Put your cock in me," Sebastian dictated. "Right here." He guided Connor's hand down the cleft of his buttocks to the place.

"Here?" Connor couldn't believe where he was asking him to put it. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, dammit. Here. That's how it's done. You want to have sex, don't you?" He looked over his shoulder at Connor.

"Yeah. Of course."

"Then just do it," Sebastian commanded.

"Um. Okay." Connor thought that Sebastian must know what he was talking about as he didn't have a clue, so he placed a steadying hand on the other man's hip and did as he was instructed.

"Yeah. There. That's it," Sebastian gasped as he felt Connor enter him. "In. All the way in. Ahh. You got it."

"Ohh," Connor breathed as he experienced the internal heat and pressure of Sebastian's body. His pelvis rocked automatically and his penis slid in and out of the snug tunnel of warmth, the flexible band of muscle squeezing him firmly, similar to a clenched hand. Only better. So this is sex, he thought in amazement. Cool.

Sebastian's skin was supple and warm against his and under his palms, everything he'd imagined a woman would feel like.

"Oh, wow…"

The older man was thrilled to hear Connor's simple yet profound expression of awe.

"You like this, candycane?" he asked with a grin. "Huh? Does it feel nice?"

"Yeah. Mmm. Yeah." Connor murmured, his eyelids fluttering shut, beyond forming complete sentences at that point in time. All he was aware of was the consuming feeling of his dick disappearing into and emerging from Sebastian's slick, receptive entrance. He was drowning, his body suffused with liquid fire, beginning in his loins and spreading throughout his gut, chest and limbs.

"It feels nice for me too," Sebastian sighed, closing his eyes and stroking his own erection while enjoying the sweet invasion from behind, the slow exploratory glides of Connor's cock inside him. "You're so gentle, bambino."

Sebastian brought Connor's hand around to his nipple ring again, telling the kid to play with it at the same time. Connor obliged, twisting and tugging the ring while he thrust into the older guy's body, marvelling at how utterly exotic and extraordinary the sensations were.

Hot. Tight. Slippery. Throbbing. Good. Good. Good.

He groaned and began to move his hips quicker as he felt his release approaching. Sebastian pushed back against him and Connor sucked in a breath at the deeper penetration, inadvertently yanking the nipple ring caught between his fingers so hard that Sebastian felt his skin rip and cried out sharply. The tingling pain heightened his pleasure to the very edge of orgasm but he didn't want to go until Connor did.

"Come on, baby," Sebastian begged, holding himself back with the thinnest thread of control. "I want you to come now."

At those words, Connor started to pant and pumped into him increasingly faster, each thrust accompanied by a not-so-gentle twist on Sebastian's piercing. A thin line of blood trickled over his nipple and when Sebastian saw it, saw the crimson fluid run onto Connor's long, dainty, tugging fingers, the erotic sight made him lose it.

"Pull it. Pull it, fucking pull it," he gritted out, all restrained politeness for the virgin's behalf vanishing in his fit of dark passion. Connor pulled the circle of silver savagely, oblivious to the damage he was causing as he was completely immersed in his own world of intense heat and friction, almost ready to erupt with boiling lust. Sebastian felt the sting and tear of his super-sensitive nipple and more blood gushed out in a fresh stream.

"Yes, ahh yes," he hissed, getting off on the bright, sparking pain, his mind saturated with it, with whirling colours of red, orange and yellow. "Fuck me, Connor," he growled throatily. "Hard. Do it hard!"

He felt another ferocious, ripping tug on the ring and Connor rammed into him aggressively, his frail frame disguising an almost inhuman strength and power. Knowing his tender flesh was bruising and feeling as though he was being split down the centre like a log with an axe, Sebastian wondered wildly how this tiny seventeen year-old could possibly be that strong.

Connor's loud, desperate cry filled his head and Sebastian felt a hot surge flowing onto his innards as the boy came inside him, stabbing deeply and brutally a few more times. It hurt but by God, it was GOOD hurt.

"Connor… Sweet Jesus…Connor," Sebastian gasped, ejaculating over his hand in a devastating, shuddering, gut-wrenching climax.

Connor felt his cock being gripped rhythmically, milking every last drop of his semen out of him. Wet. Pulsing. Shivery. Nice. So nice.

He struggled to catch his breath, never dreaming in a million years that he would find something that gave him a better adrenaline rush than hunting and slaying evil creatures.

Sex. Glorious, fantastic sex.

He carefully withdrew and it was only then that Connor noticed the blood on his fingers and on the other male's chest. He stared at the red smears in shock, not realising he had been actually hurting Sebastian. The older guy turned his head and Connor fearfully met his green gaze, his bloodied hand held frozen in mid-air.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in horrible guilt, his eyes wide. By the looks of it, he had almost torn the ring clean out. He didn't know his own strength sometimes. "I…I didn't mean to."

Sebastian smiled forgivingly. "It's okay, tiger. I told you to do it."

"I know, but…" Connor gazed at the trauma again and bit his lip with his sharp little teeth. "Sorry," he finished.

"Don't worry about it." Sebastian rolled onto his back and took Connor's hand.

"It'll heal. Besides, I like being hurt sometimes." He licked his own blood off Connor's fingers while the youth watched, worry still etched on his charming face. Then he swiped up a congealing scarlet drip from his chest and sucked it from his fingertip and Connor grasped his wrist, stopping Sebastian from repeating the process.

"Let me."

"Oh no, ragamuffin, you don't have to," Sebastian told him, understanding what he intended to do.

"I want to." Connor needed to apologise for what he did and the only way he could think of to do that was to bend his head and erase the lines of coppery-tasting liquid with slow strokes of his tongue.

Normally, he would be repulsed by such an act as it was something only vampires did, drink blood, but at that moment it seemed like the natural thing to do. The right thing. He caused the mess so he would fix it. He cleaned up the tanned skin of Sebastian's chest, fastidiously lapping up every drop and cautiously licked around the injured nipple. He looked up at the older male with apprehensive azure eyes and Sebastian smiled at him.

"It's all right. Go ahead."

Connor very gently swept his tongue over and around the ring until there was no more blood oozing out from the site of the piercing and he placed a repentant kiss upon the wounded flesh. Instead of being painful, it actually felt rather enchanting to Sebastian, having his nipple soothed and kissed better with those velvety lips.

"Aren't you sweet," he murmured, fingering the luxurious strands of Connor's long auburn hair, astounded at how he could be so feral and rough one minute and so gorgeously tender the next. "What a mystery you are, Connor. And Christ Almighty, talk about strong. What are you, half demon or something?"

Connor jerked his head up and realised Sebastian was only joking. The ebony-haired male cradled Connor's face in his hands and slanted his lips over the boy's lush mouth, kissing him softly. He looked into Connor's captivating cerulean eyes and told him, "You're a man now."

Connor's lips curved up at the declaration. Yeah. He was a man now. Man. Not child. He felt pride and happiness swell inside him.

Sebastian drew a smiling Connor into his embrace and held him against his chest. He heard Connor mumble, "Thanks."

He grinned. "Oh, the pleasure was all mine, ma petite. Believe me."

Lulled by the steady sound of the heartbeat under his ear, Connor fell asleep in Sebastian's arms, a weak, languid bundle of floppy limbs, exhausted by the recent events. Sebastian closed his eyes, inhaling the fragrance of Connor's hair, like pine needles and autumn leaves, and shortly after followed him into dream-land.

Later, Connor stirred and awoke to find Sebastian gazing at him with magnetic emerald eyes. He was still held closely by the other man and there was a light blanket draped over them. Going by the position of the sun outside and the way the light was shining through the windows, they'd slept for a couple of hours and it was now around the middle of the day.

"Hey there, sylph," Sebastian greeted him fondly.

"Hey," Connor muttered, the realisation of what he'd just did hitting him like a ton of bricks.

He'd had sex. With a man. He couldn't decide if that was good or bad.

Totally mixed up and bemused, he started to pull out of the embrace but Sebastian tightened his arms, saying, "You're not gonna go all shy and embarrassed on me, are you Connor? 'Cos there's no reason to be, okay?"

Connor stared at him, his muscles taut and his spine rigid, not used to having someone's arms around him. Especially when they belonged to a male.

"Okay?" Sebastian repeated, looking deep into Connor's eyes, the youth's striking irises like twin pools of bright blue water. "What we did was nothing to be ashamed of, babe. We made love. And it was special and wonderful and beautiful. Okay?"

At his reassuring and comforting tone Connor relaxed and replied softly, "Okay."

Sebastian let him sit up and the boy pulled the blanket around his slim hips, covering his nakedness. Connor was quite adorable post-slumber, his hair mussed up and his eyes sleepy. He looked like a pixie or a wood sprite. Sebastian rolled onto his side, propping himself up with his elbow and smiled at him.

"Damn. It was fucking good though, wasn't it? You, my sexy boy, are such a wild thing," he said cheekily, making Connor flush appealingly. "I'm gonna be so sore and bruised tomorrow."

Connor looked slightly mortified at the reminder of his overly enthusiastic thrusting.

"Sorry."

Sebastian laughed. "Don't be, munchkin. I'm not. I'm gonna remember this, I'm gonna remember you, for the rest of my life." He turned serious. "Speaking of remembering, guess what, Connor? You gave me my memory back."

Connor gazed at him, a small crease on his brow. "I did? How?"

"When you hurt me, when you made me come," Sebastian told him, reaching out and touching the boy's forearm. "All of it just came rushing back to me. I lost my memory when I got hurt. I guess I needed to get hurt again to give it back."

"Oh."

With that one word, Connor realised their time together was over. Sebastian had a life he had to get back to and it didn't include him. He felt suddenly and inexplicably sad.

"So, I know who I am again," Sebastian stated with relief, at the same time feeling a bittersweet regret that these few precious hours alone with Connor were coming to a close.

"Who are you?" Connor tilted his head questioningly.

"My name is Sebastian Christensen, I'm twenty-five years old and as pretentious as it sounds, I'm a male model," Sebastian illuminated Connor. "Mostly photo shoots, some catwalk work. I get to travel, which is the best part. When I'm not working, I play bass in a band and collect motorcycles as a hobby." He twisted the silver ring around his finger as he spoke.

"See this ring? Brad gave it to me for my birthday. He was my boyfriend," Sebastian explained. "Last night he dumped me, the bastard. For no goddamn reason at all."

"That sucks," Connor said, seeing the pique in Sebastian's green eyes and hearing it in his husky voice. He knew how bad it felt to be rejected. Cordy had done it to him. He tentatively laid an empathetic hand on the older man's shoulder and Sebastian closed his eyes for a moment at the touching gesture. He covered Connor's hand with his own and continued.

"Yeah, doesn't it? I couldn't deal with it so that's why I went out, to try and forget. And, what do you know, it worked." He laughed shortly and ironically. "Mr Tall, Dark and Scary made sure of that."

With a decisive motion, Sebastian tore the ring off his finger and flung it out the crack in the window. "Good riddance. I don't know why I didn't do this earlier."

Sebastian's mood lightened as he looked up at Connor's elfin face. "But you know what, sugarlips?"

"What?" Connor asked.

"You've shown me that there are way better guys out there than that selfish prick," he said gratefully. "Phenomenal guys like you, Connor. You've shown me that I'll find somebody worthy one day." Sebastian pressed his mouth to the back of Connor's hand, the kid's skin warm and silky under his lips.

"Hey, I think I'm falling in love with you already, sweetheart," Sebastian said, only partly-kidding. He thought for the umpteenth time how exceptionally fine Connor was with his long-lashed, black-ringed sapphire eyes, full soft pink lips and that cute little chocolate-brown beauty mark setting off his peaches and cream complexion. The boy was so yummy, he could just eat him.

If his gaydar wasn't telling him that this was a once in a lifetime, never to be repeated deal, Sebastian would have gladly claimed Connor as his toyboy. Alas, the seventeen year-old vampire hunter was woefully straight. He knew it just like he knew that grass was green. Sebastian was remarkably lucky to have gotten as much as he had.

They gazed at each other for a little while, Sebastian holding Connor's hand and caressing the younger male's knuckles with his thumb. Connor didn't take his fingers away. He repeated Sebastian's words over and over in his head.

Falling. Love. You. Sweetheart. Nobody had said anything even remotely like that to him before. Not ever. He felt strangely close to tears, which was a very rare occurrence for him. The last time he cried was when he found Holtz, his foster father, dead. How could mere words affect him so much?

"So…thank you," Sebastian said eventually. "For everything. You are one incredible guy, Connor. I mean that. I'm forever in your debt."

Connor smiled shyly and modestly. "You're welcome. Sebastian."

The older man was stoked to hear Connor say his name for the first time. He wanted to make him say it again. Preferably in the middle of a moan. He brought Connor's hand up to his lips and took one of his fingers into his mouth, sucking evocatively, miming the act of fellatio he'd performed earlier. Against his will, Connor felt himself turn hard once more, the blanket in his lap forming a little tent and he shifted uncomfortably.

The intended result of his action achieved, Sebastian took the boy's finger out, looked him straight in the eye and proposed, "I have to work tonight and I know you have some slaying to do, so before the sun goes down, do you want to screw me again? Or you can lay back and I'll climb on top and ride you like a bronco until you pop your cork. Would you like that, kitten?"

Connor chewed his lip at the tempting description, the pupils of his pretty blue eyes dilating fully. More sex? There was only one plausible reply to that.

"Okay."

As Connor lay poised above the beautiful curvaceous brunette woman in his bed, the woman that was the only good part of his pitiful life, his only confidante and the closest thing to a friend he had, he was hiding a shameful secret from her. Even though, he felt great emotion for Cordelia and wouldn't dream of hurting her, he was lying to her, right this very minute. She thought she was doing him a favour, letting him have something real, letting him make love to her so if the world ended in a reign of fire due to The Beast's arrival, he wouldn't die a virgin.

But he'd already lost his cherry a few short weeks ago. He briefly thought of curly black hair, green Gummi Bear eyes and nipple rings. A flush of heat, that had nothing to do with Cordy's voluptuous nakedness, tore through his body like wildfire.

Nope, he certainly wasn't a virgin.

Not that he was ever gonna tell her that.

END

Manchild – The Sequel

Title - SON OF ANGEL

Author: Rina76

Setting – One year later.

Twenty six year old Sebastian Christensen passes the front of an inner city motel with a neon sign in the smudged window which reads ROOMS AVAILABLE. Underneath that in smaller letters is: NO QUESTIONS ASKED. The door is red and the paint is chipped and scratched from years of use. To him, it seems like one of those seedy places that would have roaches in the rooms, cracks in the ceiling and stained mattresses on the beds.

"Classy," he mutters, thinking that people must be pretty desperate if they go there to have sex. He would rather go to a nice hotel with clean sheets and a mint on the pillow. Not that he's hoping to get laid tonight, even though it's been a while since he had a one-on-one encounter with another man. Trouble is, it's so hard to find anyone that he clicks with, anyone that really stands out from the herd, anyone that captures his attention for more than five minutes. Guys that he meets are either self-obsessed, bitchy fashion victims, arrogant assholes or just plain not interested in a serious relationship. He never comes across anyone decent at work; other male models are nice to look at but lack something in the intelligence department. The dude that he's meeting tonight seems fairly brainy – being a systems analyst, whatever the hell that is - but they have only met once and that was at a mutual friend's birthday party. It's too early to say if he'll end up being another bitch or another asshole. Well, time will soon tell. Sebastian knows he probably has to kiss a lot of toads before he finds his prince. And he will never find his prince if he sits at home thinking about someone he can't have.

Trying not to dwell on the past, he runs his fingers through his loose, shoulder-length black hair, the shiny curls springing back into place as he walks. His green gaze sweeps the street and the people on it, searching for any signs of danger, checking out the faces of drivers in cars, pedestrians on the sidewalk, patrons in outdoor cafés, everyone. You just never know where your next attacker will come from. His tall form is dressed in low-waisted black pants and a white open-collared shirt with a long leather coat over the top. Motorcycle boots reach halfway up his calves underneath the trousers, the rubber soles thick and sturdy – good for running.

As he's covertly looking around him, a prickle of awareness touches the back of his neck and he attempts to hone in on where the sensation is coming from. It's as though he's being watched. He continues walking purposefully down the pavement like he's got somewhere to go but with each street light he leaves behind, that feeling increases. In fact, he starts to feel not only watched, but followed and the farther he walks, the more he's convinced that somebody - or something - is tracking him. And conveniently, the vicinity he's in is becoming vacant; no shops, no people strolling by, no cars whizzing past. He's heading into an industrial area, lots of big, ugly concrete structures, factories that are shut down for the night. Dark and deserted. A nice place to get killed where nobody will see anything. He takes a corner into a narrow lane between buildings and the sense of being followed is no longer a sense but a certainty. Straining his ears, he can hear the whisper of careful footfalls, the brush of clothing against brick. Soon, he's sure that the stalker is right behind him, in the shadows where he can't see.

"Okay, I know you're there," he announces, spinning around and scanning the area, seeing nothing in the darkened lane, not the ideal place a man should be at this time of night. But Sebastian isn't afraid.

"What the fuck do you want, huh?" His tone grows more demanding. "Come on out and show yourself instead of skulking around like a filthy rat."

No-one answers. There is no sound but distant traffic and muted music from bars and nightclubs a few blocks away.

Sebastian's hand discreetly goes to the deep pocket of his coat where a secret object is located. The item is constructed of wood and one end has been sharpened to a point. It's a stake and Sebastian crafted it himself out of pine, sanding back the handle to remove splinters. Since his almost fatal encounter with vampires a year ago, he's been more aware of the undead populace of the city and isn't taking any more chances with his safety. He carries this sharp stick around with him everywhere and it has saved his life twice already. The first time was when a female bloodsucker tried to take a bite out of him in a parking lot a few weeks after the initial attack. At first she was cute with her short platinum blonde hair and pink bubblegum lips but then her face changed. Sebastian recognised those yellow eyes and bumpy brow immediately and stabbed her before she could give him a lethal hickey. He was surprised at how easily the pointed stake sank into the white flesh of her chest and how quickly she turned to ashes, floating in the air around him like grey snowflakes. It felt good killing that demonic bitch; satisfying and an immense rush. The second vamp he killed, an Asian male, was just as satisfying and Sebastian curls his fingers around the smooth wooden handle in his pocket, ready to pull it out and dust another one tonight if need be.

"Come and get me, motherfucker!" he calls out daringly. "I will send your ass straight back to hell where you came from."

"You could try."

The sarcastic voice comes from above and Sebastian looks up in surprise. He sees a dark silhouette squatting like a gargoyle on the roof of the tall building beside him, five stories up. That dark silhouette pushes off the roof and Sebastian instinctively backs away, his apprehensive gaze fixed on the falling figure. Instead of splattering blood and guts all over the sidewalk like a normal person would, the figure comes smoothly sailing down feet first, tucking one leg under at the last moment and landing in a spectacular kneeling crouch, their right hand slamming flat against the ground, the head bent, long red-brown hair hanging forward and covering their face. The body of the stranger is slim and covered in baggy jeans and a navy long-sleeved top; Sebastian unable to ascertain whether the person is male or female at this stage or even if it is human. All evidence points to it not being of the human species and he pulls his hand out of his coat pocket, the stake held tightly in his fingers, aiming it at the thing on the ground.

Slowly, the figure lifts its head, the curtain of glossy auburn strands parting to reveal a pale face with delicate features and red lips. Underneath straight dark brows, feathery lashes lift and intense sapphire eyes flick up to Sebastian, who gasps in instant recognition.

"Connor?"

"Hi." Connor grins impishly as he gets up from his awesome landing, brushing dirt off his jeans. "Thought that would be cool. Did it look cool?"

"I…you…Jesus," Sebastian stutters, overwhelmed by the kid's astonishing appearance, laying his hand over his heart which is pumping four times its usual rate. "That was incredible! Not to mention scary. How on earth did you do that?"

"You fall. You land." Connor shrugs. "It's easy."

"Of course it is. If you're a goddamn CAT," Sebastian retorts, still reeling over that multi-story dive.

Connor just grins again, displaying small, pearly teeth and Sebastian is stuck by how brilliant it looks. Last time he saw Connor, the boy only seemed to have three main expressions: suspicion, anger and sadness. Sometimes a mix of all of those, the pain clouding his bright eyes and turning his pretty mouth down. Sebastian hardly saw Connor smile at all back then but here he is grinning as though he's high on life and it really suits him.

"Nice stake," Connor comments in amusement, glancing to the sharp stick still in Sebastian's fist. "Were you really gonna use that on me?"

"If you were a vamp, sure." The older man drops it back into his coat pocket. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"You've killed a vampire?" Connor almost laughs in incredulity, remembering the other guy's total lack of fighting skills last time they met. "Actually killed one? As in dusted?"

"As a matter of fact, I've killed two," Sebastian returns haughtily, straightening his spine in indignation. "Since you rather embarrassingly rescued me in the alley behind that club, I've learnt how to defend myself. I've been taking lessons in martial arts AND in the use of pointy weapons. I am now a qualified ass-kicker."

Connor's eyes widen in disbelief, hugely impressed at what he's hearing.

"So if you're here to protect me, kid, don't bother. I can take care of myself now."

"I'm not actually here to protect you," Connor states, irritated at being called, 'kid' especially since he's going to be nineteen in a few months time.

"Then why are you here?" Sebastian tilts his head scrutinisingly at the smaller boy. "Hey, wait. Have you been following me?"

"I wasn't following you," Connor objects hotly, even thought it's sort of true. "I was out hunting when I saw you walking along and-"

"And you just decided to drop in?" Sebastian interrupts.

"Something like that," Connor responds testily, beginning to feel as though he's made a huge mistake by showing himself to the other man. "You got a problem with me being here?"

"Absolutely not, pixie," Sebastian quickly replies, trying to diffuse the dangerous fire growing in Connor's eyes. "You just shocked the hell out of me, that's all. I mean, Christ, it's been a year since I've seen you. And then you fall straight out of the fucking sky? How did you expect me to react?"

Suddenly feeling stupid, Connor glances away and mumbles, "I thought you might be…I don't know…glad."

"Oh, I AM glad," Sebastian reinforces, grinning to confirm it. "Like you wouldn't believe. I thought I was being stalked by a vamp. But you can stalk me anytime, sugar." The dark haired man's green eyes twinkle like emeralds.

"You can stalk me all the way back to my place if you want to."

Connor's blood pressure unexpectedly jumps up a few degrees at the cheeky remark and he flushes and lowers his head, trying to hide his pink cheeks behind his hair, not expecting to get so excited about the idea of following Sebastian home.

"I really am glad you're here, Connor," Sebastian repeats in a gentler tone, stepping closer, trailing his gaze up and down the boy's figure. Since the last time Sebastian saw him, Connor appears to have matured more, gotten a little taller, his shoulders a little wider, his jaw a bit more defined. But he's still as slender as ever and his hair has grown longer, the coppery-brown strands framing his face and reaching down past his shoulders in a straight sweep, emphasising the paleness of his skin and neck, the redness of his mouth and vibrant colour of his blue irises, fringed with dark lashes. A small chocolate dot sits under the left corner of his lips as the finishing touch to a fine piece of art. Even the dim light of the street lamps can't shadow his shining beauty and Sebastian drinks up the sight of Connor, imagining that looking is all he'll get to do with the stunning waif.

Getting his heart rate under control, Connor glances up to find Sebastian gazing at him interestedly with those Gummi Bear-shade green eyes.

"So, what've you been up to lately, Superboy?"

"Oh, you know. Wasting vamps. Decapitating demons." Shrugging casually, Connor concludes, "The usual."

"The usual, huh?" Sebastian drawls with one eyebrow raised. "You make my life seem boring as shit. All I do is walk around in other people's clothes and pose for pictures in them."

"Are you still in your band?"

Pleased that Connor remembers something about him from their last conversation, Sebastian answers, "Yes, I am. Thank you for asking. We're still waiting for that big record deal but hey, it'll happen one day."

"And your motorcycles?"

"Still have those." Sebastian offers," I can take you for a ride one day if you want."

A hint of a smile touches the teen's lips at the thought of sitting on the back of a shiny bike, zipping though the streets of L.A. like lightning, the wind rushing though his hair, hanging onto Sebastian's waist so he doesn't fall off.

"That would be fun," he says, secretly thinking that the hanging-onto-Sebastian part would be the best bit.

"Totally," Sebastian agrees, visualising pretty much the same thing, Connor's thin arms wrapped around him, the boy's chest and stomach pressed enticingly against his back. "Pity I don't have one with me tonight," he says regretfully. "I got a cab into the city."

For the first time, Connor realises that Sebastian is dressed for going out and he must be holding the guy up from whatever it is he is meant to do. "Are you on your way somewhere?" he ventures hesitantly, gesturing to Sebastian's stylish black and white outfit.

"Ah…I was supposed to be meeting someone. At a bar," Sebastian answers uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck.

The younger one's eyes grow sharp and piercing. "A date?"

Wincing, Sebastian replies, "Kind of."

"Right." Connor returns this stiffly, feeling unwanted and rejected, even though he knows he has no claim on Sebastian's affections whatsoever. It's been twelve months. He can't expect the man to remain single and celibate just because they had sex once. Really good sex…but still, that doesn't mean anything in this world. Humans don't mate for life. Connor knows all about that first hand.

"Well, have a good time," he tosses out flippantly, turning away and acting as if he's not affected by Sebastian seeing someone else. "I've got some more vamps to dust anyway."

"Screw the date," Sebastian pronounces dismissively, halting Connor's departure. "I'm not that into him. He's nobody special." Looking pointedly at Connor and picking up on the boy's well-hidden emotions, he ends sincerely, "Not like you."

Handed such a compliment, Connor seems lost for words and stands there looking at Sebastian, unable to believe the guy would give up a date just for him. Connor doesn't think that he's anything special but Sebastian definitely does. Sebastian thinks that there's not another single human being in the world quite like Connor. Which is probably because the kid's not quite human.

"Okay, what exactly are you?" Sebastian demands, crossing his arms over his chest. "I want to know the truth."

Playing dumb, Connor questions, "What do you mean?"

"C'mon. I'm not an idiot. I know how strong you are," Sebastian proclaims, specifically referring to how Connor carried him back to his room when Sebastian was out cold after the vamp attack in the alley. He must have been like a dead weight in Connor's arms but the skinny little boy managed to haul his unconscious ass six blocks and up a ladder without dropping him and still had enough energy left to carve stakes on the windowsill.

"You can kill monsters bigger and stronger than you without even breaking a sweat. And on top of all that, you just jumped off a five-story building in front of me and didn't even break a bone. What's the deal?"

Connor stares at him, trying to figure out why Sebastian is so interested in his abilities but the second male doesn't seem to have any ulterior motives. It's not like he's one of those scumbags who work for Wolfram and Hart or anything. He's just generally curious. Maybe he can be trusted with the truth. As the Powers That Be know, Connor would love to be able to share his secret with at least one other living person on the planet.

"I don't know what I am," he finally answers.

Sebastian squints at him. "What do you mean, you don't know?"

Swivelling his head around to make sure nobody is near them, Connor motions for Sebastian to come with him. "Let's walk," he suggests, not keen for anyone to hear what he's about to reveal. The taller man follows Connor back onto the street, strolling beside him so they can walk and talk in private, away from any creatures that may be lurking in the darkness.

When he's sure that they are completely alone, Connor looks down and says quietly, "My parents were vampires." He waits for Sebastian to recoil with horror or even say something in disgust but the first man doesn't do either.

"You said vampires killed your parents," Sebastian points out in puzzlement.

"I lied."

"Oh." Looking perplexed, Sebastian remarks, "I didn't know they could make babies."

"Well, apparently I'm the exception." Connor smiles humourlessly. "Lucky me."

His forehead creased, Sebastian studies Connor's fine-looking but very normal and unbumpy face. "But you're not a bloodsucker. I've seen you eat food. I've seen you awake in the daytime. And you never tried to bite me even though you had plenty of chances to do so."

"Somehow I skipped the worst parts of being a vampire and got all the good stuff," Connor discloses. "Strength, speed, super-senses. Not burning when sunlight touches me."

"So, you're like some kind of half-breed. No offence," Sebastian adds, shooting Connor an apologetic glance.

"I guess." The eighteen year old merely shrugs his shoulders. "I gave up trying to figure it out a long time ago."

"Exactly how strong are you?" Sebastian quizzes, greatly intrigued by this revelation.

Connor looks at him speculatively. "You want a demonstration?"

Sebastian nods eagerly.

"Okay," Connor replies easily, taking up the challenge. The kid saunters over to the nearest brick building and pulls his arm back, snapping it forward and smashing a sizeable chunk out of the corner of the structure with his bare fist. Orange bricks and grey mortar go flying, clumps clattering to the ground. He returns to Sebastian, smirking triumphantly.

"Enough of a demonstration for you?"

Gob smacked by the display of power, Sebastian just grabs Connor's wrist, inspecting his delicate hand for damage. There is not even a scratch on the skin over his knuckles.

"Holy fuck," the twenty six year old blurts in amazement. If he tried to do what this stick-thin boy just did, he'd end up in the emergency department of the hospital needing a plaster cast up to his elbow.

"Told you I was strong."

"Unbelievable," Sebastian exclaims, finding it hard to fathom that this is what happens when two vampires get groiny and don't use a condom.

Not shaken in the least, Connor begins walking off and Sebastian chases after him, even more fascinated than before.

"Your parents…where are they now?"

"My mother staked herself when she was pregnant with me. She turned to ash and left me behind." Connor sounds sad for a moment but then the unforgiving hardness comes back into his voice. "She deserved to die. She was bad. Killed a lot of people. And my father…well, he used to be a killer too and then he got a soul from some gypsies. He's still evil but not 'EVIL' evil…Long story." Connor sighs, as if it's too complicated to talk about.

"Anyway, he's still around but we don't really see each other much. Every time we do, we end up fighting. Literally," he clarifies. "A lot of glass gets broken."

"Does he hit you?" Sebastian asks, frowning.

"More times than I can count."

"That bastard," Sebastian interjects angrily, furious with anyone who would want to harm this precious, beautiful young man.

"Don't worry, I hit him back," Connor announces dryly. "Ours isn't exactly a normal father-son relationship. He's a vampire and I'm a hunter. Sparks are gonna fly."

"But still, he shouldn't treat you like that," Sebastian declares firmly.

Sighing again, Connor confesses, "He doesn't always. Most of the time he tries to be nice to me. I mean, I know cares about me but the past just gets between us. It's hard for me to even talk to him without feeling uneasy."

"You can't trust him because he's a vampire?"

"It's not really that. He's got a soul so technically, he's not bad anymore. He doesn't kill innocent people. He only kills demons."

"Like you." Sebastian glances sideways to gauge Connor's reaction.

"I suppose," Connor grudgingly admits, thinking that he is more like his father than he wants to be. "Except he does it for a living. He gets paid to do what I do. To hunt. To help the helpless. Has his own business card and everything. I guess Angel's trying to make up for all the people he's murdered over the years."

"Angel?"

"That's my father's name. Short for Angelus."

"Ah, I see," Sebastian answers, reminded of how Connor got pissed when he called the boy an angel as they were together in bed. No wonder he didn't like it.

Being simply honest, Connor says, "I can't trust him because he wasn't there for me when I was growing up. Which was in a hell dimension, by the way," he throws in matter-of-factly. "Full of demons and slime and some horrible smell that you never forget. Took me days to get it out of my hair."

If Connor were any other person, Sebastian would think he's utterly nuts and start sprinting away for his life but the older male knows first hand that there are vampires in the world. Heck, he's staked a couple of them. And right now he's talking to the supernaturally strong human son of two bloodsuckers. If vampires exist then there are many other paranormal anomalies out there that he's never seen. If Connor says that hell dimensions populated by stinking, slimy demons are real then it's a fact.

"That's where I learnt to hunt. In Qor'toth. I was there for sixteen years. You have to hunt and you have to kill or you don't survive there. My foster father taught me how." Connor's face grows gloomy. "But he's dead now."

Not knowing what else to say, Sebastian replies awkwardly, "Oh. I'm sorry,"

"Sometimes, I still feel like he's my real father. Not Angel." Resentment colours Connor's voice. "Angel wasn't there for me then and now that I'm back, he still hasn't been here for me. There are times when he's let me down, abandoned me, left me on my own."

"Did your dad – Angel – did he send you to the hell dimension?"

Almost looking startled, Connor exclaims, "He didn't send me there. I was taken away from him when I was a baby. They took me to Qor'toth where he couldn't find me. It was for my protection. People thought he was going to kill me."

"Why?" Sebastian is aghast at the notion. "Did he try to?"

"Well, there was an ancient prophecy," Connor begins to elaborate. "The Father Kills the Son. But it didn't come true…or they were wrong…I don't know." Shaking his head, he gives up the confusing explanation.

"Angel has never seriously tried to kill me. Every time he's hit me, I started it." Muttering, he adds, "I always start it."

Trying to understand the mystifying situation, Sebastian repeats, "So, he's not evil like other vampires because he has a soul. And the others don't."

"Well, there is one other vampire that has a soul. His name's Spike," Connor elucidates, picturing the cocky, peroxided Brit. "He and my father go way back. But as far as I know, they are the only ones who have been given souls."

"If your dad has a soul, does that mean he is capable of love?"

"I guess so," Connor reluctantly acknowledges.

"Has he ever done anything to prove it?"

"Yeah, actually he has," Connor ascertains, thinking of all the times Angel has guarded and defended him, taken shotgun blasts in the back for him and stood in front of Connor to shelter him from harm, always diving in at the right moment to deflect a sword blow or a crossbow arrow that would have otherwise hit Connor's body and killed him. Connor may be part vampire but he's not immortal and Angel has saved his life over and over again. The most recent time was when Angel found him with a bomb strapped to his body. That was right after Connor punched a hole in Jasmine's maggoty head and went psycho. He was going to a do a suicide bomb and take a lot of innocent people with him but Angel talked him out of it. If by talked, you mean beat the crap out of him and stuck a knife in the back of his leg. But it worked. Angel stopped Connor from blowing himself up.

"And then he gave me a normal life. He wanted me to have what I missed out on so he erased all my memories and sent me to live with a family in a real house."

"Hold on," Sebastian cuts in, holding up one hand. "He erased your memories?"

Connor nods. "Magic spell. A really powerful one. It wiped the minds of everyone I knew so that they didn't remember me. The spell also made the family that I was placed with believe that I belonged with them, that I was born there and had always lived there."

"And you didn't remember anything from before?"

"Not a thing. As far as I knew, I had two regular parents, a brother, sister and even a dog. I went to school, played hockey and lived like any other teenage boy in suburbia. I passed my final exams with top marks and could have gone to any college I wanted."

"Wow. He did all that for you?" In spite of his earlier reservations, Sebastian starts to respect Connor's father. Handing your only son over to complete strangers so that he would be happier, so that he wouldn't have to deal with the fact that his dad is a vampire and the world is filled with terrible, violent evil. Giving him peace and normality and the chance to become anything he chose to. Giving him a loving family even though Angel wouldn't have one with Connor gone. To give up your own blood…That's a pretty big thing to do. If that's not love then Sebastian doesn't know what is.

"But if you had such a great family life, Connor, and all those fabulous opportunities then why are you back on the streets looking for things to kill?"

"Because I started to remember." Connor gazes off into the distance, his face set in a blank, unreadable expression which Sebastian believes is meant to prevent anyone from knowing how he really feels.

"And I knew that my life was fake. I tried to pretend that it didn't matter, but it did. These people weren't really my family. They didn't really love me – they were made to with a spell. I knew that if they found out who I really was, they wouldn't want me around."

"So, what did you do?"

"I left. I came back here. And then I made my father reverse the spell on them so they wouldn't wonder what happened to me. Now they don't even know that I exist."

"God. I'm so sorry, honey," Sebastian says sympathetically, hurting for all the losses, heartaches and disappointments this poor boy has had to endure in his short lifetime.

"Don't be. I'm all right," Connor insists. "I know who I am now and I know what I'm meant to do. I'm a hunter and a slayer and that's why I was born. To destroy evil." He half-smiles. "Besides, chopping off a demon's head with an axe is a great way to get rid of pent-up anger."

A gruesome image popping into his head, Sebastian grimaces and exclaims, "Jesus. Remind me never to piss you off."

Glancing at the handsome older man, Connor thinks that that will never happen. Sebastian is way too nice to piss him off. The main person that pisses him off right now is Angel and his futile attempts to act like the father that he never was.

Sensing this, Sebastian says in a gentle, comforting tone, "Connor, I don't know your father but if he was prepared to sacrifice his relationship with you so that you could have a normal life then I'd say he really cares about you. I bet he never thought he'd have a son. Ever. He probably thinks you're a miracle."

"Miracle. Right." Connor snorts. "More like a pain in his ass."

"I know you have your issues with Angel and I know it's none of my business," Sebastian hastily assures him, "but you shouldn't blame him for not being there when you were a child. You said that you were taken from him as a baby and raised in another dimension. How could he be there for you when he didn't even know how to get to where you were?"

Connor is scowling at the ground, hands shoved into his pockets all defensively, not wanting to hear this so Sebastian places his hand on the boy's shoulder, making him look up and pay attention even if it is with a heated glare.

"He didn't abandon you, cherub," Sebastian tells him, removing his hand before it gets bitten. "You were stolen from him. Don't hate him for someone else's mistake."

The irate expression on the teenager's face gradually lessens as those wise words sink in.

"It sounds to me like he's trying to make it up to you," Sebastian reasons logically. "It's not too late to mend things. He's your father – the only family you have left in this world. Maybe you should give him another chance or you might regret it for the rest of your life."

Realising that Sebastian is one hundred percent right, Connor kicks an empty soda can on the ground and mumbles, "Okay, I get it. Can we stop talking about my father now?"

Turning to the younger male, Sebastian questions, "What do you want to talk about instead?"

"How about you?" Connor proposes, eager for the topic to switch away from him and his family troubles.

"Okay. Let's talk about me." Smiling teasingly, Sebastian says, "Here's a fun fact for you, Connor: Did you know that I have thought about you every single day for the last year?"

Connor swings his head around that fast that his long hair almost whips Sebastian's face. "You've been thinking about me?" he asks, his blue eyes large with amazement.

"All the time," Sebastian confesses honestly. "I've been wondering how you were, what you were doing, if you were okay. I wanted to see you to make sure you were all right."

"You could have seen me. You know where I live," Connor reminds him. "You've been there."

"Yes, but I didn't know if you'd WANT to see me," Sebastian debates. "It's not like I can send you a text message or anything. You don't even have a phone. I didn't want to turn up unannounced only to have you tell me to go the fuck away."

"I wouldn't have said that," Connor protests, a small frown on his smooth forehead.

Focusing attentively on the boy walking beside him, Sebastian inquires, "What would you have done if I had showed up on your doorstep one night?"

"I would have…" Connor starts and then falters, his mind teeming with all sorts of wicked thoughts, all of them to do with seeing Sebastian naked again.

"Would have what?"

"I…" Connor opens and closes his mouth, unable and unwilling to answer that. To his shame, he feels his cheeks redden again, feeling as though Sebastian can see right through him into the sinful cravings that he has kept locked up inside himself for the last twelve months.

"Would you have let me in?" Sebastian prompts.

Abashedly, Connor looks away and nods jerkily, as if admitting to some crime he's not proud of.

"Don't be ashamed, sweetheart," Sebastian says, affection softening his voice. "If you came to my place, I would have let you in too. Hell, I wouldn't even let you leave."

Timidly, Connor lifts his head, peeping at the other man with eyes that are at once shy and bold. "But I don't know where you live. You never told me."

"Shit, I wish I had," Sebastian answers ruefully, thinking of all the time they could have spent together instead of fantasising about it. "But it doesn't matter. You're here now. And did I tell you that I love your hair like that?"

Connor shakes his head, red-brown strands around his face softly swaying, the ends brushing the top of his chest above his nipples, which Sebastian can see pebbled under the fabric of the kid's navy-coloured top, due to both the cool night breeze and the electric tension humming between them. The twenty six year old reaches out to touch that luxurious hair, slowly, waiting to see if Connor will smack his hand away or punch him in the face. But the younger male doesn't do any of those things. In fact, he stands perfectly still, as if expecting this, even wanting it, a gleam of unmistakable adult knowledge in those pure blue eyes of his. It seems the child is a child no longer, Sebastian muses, and he carefully separates a lock of Connor's rich auburn tresses from the rest of the mass, letting it slip between his fingertips, all the way to the ends. It feels like silk.

"God, I've missed you, darlin'," Sebastian tells the boy huskily.

Tingles race down the back of Connor's neck at the slight tugging sensation on his scalp and he suppresses a shudder of pleasure. He lowers his eyelids, swallowing with a dry throat when the older man's fingers brush his ear as they pass through his hair in an intimate caress. Nobody has touched Connor like this for many months. He hasn't let anyone touch him like this but he lets Sebastian, remembering how good those fingers felt on his skin such a long while ago. When the caress moves to his cheek, he raises his lashes, finding Sebastian's face very close to his, the second male's gaze dark and needy. Those green eyes are captivating and magnetic and Connor once thought they belonged to a woman with long blonde hair and no memory. Not tonight, though. Tonight Sebastian Christensen is all man with his leather biker boots, musky cologne, jet-black hair and stubble to match.

"I want to kiss you, Connor."

Sebastian's murmured desire makes doubt flicker in the teen's face. "You don't care that I'm part demon?"

"I actually think it's sexy."

"Sexy?" Connor wrinkles his nose, wondering how the other guy can find his demonic side appealing. Not that he has fangs or yellow eyes or anything visible pertaining to his vampiric heritage but he still possesses unnatural talents that no teenage boy should ever be capable of.

"Yeah, sexy," Sebastian affirms, looking up and down Connor's misleadingly slim figure with a sultry gaze. "Just knowing that you have the power to kill me with one punch…it's a turn on."

Still incapable of believing that this very attractive man, who could have anybody in town, actually wants the son of evil, blood-drinking creatures, Connor queries, "You're not scared of me?"

"Of course not. I know you won't hurt me. You're still human. You're still a boy," Sebastian stresses and Connor doesn't mind when he says it.

One good thing about Sebastian is that he doesn't know about all the awful things Connor did in his past. He never saw that side of Connor because if he did, he wouldn't be there with him right now, wanting to kiss him. Besides, Connor isn't like that anymore. Granted, he's had his insane moments over the years but he's a damn sight more balanced these days because he's accepted who he is and where he came from. When Sebastian looks at him, he isn't seeing Connor back when he called himself Stephen, wearing animal skins, a grisly necklace of kill trophies and a homicidal attitude; he only sees the person who Connor is tonight – a mature eighteen year old with a high school diploma who chose to forgo college for a career saving humanity. And apparently Sebastian likes what he sees because he's staring intently at Connor with those deep emerald eyes.

"And boys have needs," Sebastian continues suggestively. "Needs that I can help you with. I know you don't have a lot of time for dating what with the expanding vampire population in L.A. but I'd still love to see you once in a while."

Taken by surprise, Connor echoes, "You want to date me?"

"Oh, I want to do a lot more than that," Sebastian decrees seductively, outlining the teen's ruby lips with the pad of his thumb. "Are you going to hit me if I kiss you now?"

Connor lifts his chin up in an invitation and replies breathlessly, "What do you think?"

"I'll take my chances," Sebastian utters before leaning down and claiming the boy's tempting mouth.

PART TWO

Sebastian barely grazes his lips over Connor's before the boy rudely shoves him away, making the taller male take a clumsy step back and destroying his plan of seduction. Baffled by this unexpected move, Sebastian spreads his hands in a bewildered gesture and exclaims, "What? Did I misinterpret your signals? Cause there were some serious kiss-me vibes coming from your direction, Connor, and I'm pretty damn good at picking up on those."

"It's not that. I heard something," Connor says in a low voice, pressing his hand warningly against Sebastian's chest, keeping him at arm's length so he doesn't distract Connor's senses by trying to make out with him again. The eighteen year-old lifts his face, smelling the air, listening intently, his keen eyes inspecting the cloaking darkness.

With alarm, Sebastian realises that his pretty partner is tracking something. "Creepy crawly coming?" he whispers, nervously looking around them for things that go bump in the night.

"Creepy crawly already here," Connor replies quietly. As soon as he says that, an ominous, craggy creature comes ambling out of the shadows. It's blackish, oily and lumpy, as though it's made out of hunks of coal held together with asphalt and grease. Smells like it too. Sebastian, never having seen or smelled such a sight, gapes at the unnamed critter with a mixture of fascination and fear. Its head is misshapen and its features blunt and rough, as if carved crudely out of stone; arms and legs chunky but impressively built, its body covered in nothing but what appears to be a hessian loincloth, hiding its male parts. At least Sebastian hopes it's male. It's like a smellier, uglier version of The Thing from Fantastic Four.

Not afraid of this hulking monster – especially not after battling and being broken by the formidable horned Beast - Connor gently but compellingly pushes Sebastian out of the way, closer to the wall of a building nearby. "Stay behind me," he instructs the older man, his tone boding no argument. "And no matter what happens, DON'T try to help me. Got it?"

At Connor's order, Sebastian nods and gulps, quite okay with letting the kid handle this one. Vamps he can deal with but, Jesus, how do you fight a walking pile of rocks?

Connor, knowing exactly how, gets into his fight stance, feet apart, fists up, chin lowered, gaze fixed glaringly on the unwanted intruder. Sebastian can't see Connor's face but if he could he would be awed by the deadly, focused set of the boy's expression, the hard clench of his jaw, the curl of his lip, the lethal light in his eyes. It's the face of someone who's prepared to kill. The demon looks impassively at the scrawny, long-haired adolescent before him and then looks past him to Sebastian, a sneering smile cracking its face like a fissure in a cliff wall as he realises that Connor is protecting this frightened human male the way a wolf protects its pups.

"Well, isn't this romantic." The demon's voice sounds harsh and gluggy, as if it's speaking through a mud puddle. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Actually you are," Connor grumbles, sounding both weary and annoyed. "Don't you guys ever take the night off?"

"Not when we know you're around, Slay Boy," the demon jeers. Its voice turns hateful, black irises gleaming liquidly like hot tar in its scarred, volcanic face. "You, the impossible child of two vampires, foretold in ancient prophecies, were supposed to be our messiah, the salvation of all demonkind, and instead you are the scourge of it."

"Great," Connor mutters with a roll of his eyes. "I'm famous."

"You plague us and diminish our numbers with your ceaseless hunting and butchery." The demon spits a glob of grey goo disdainfully at Connor's sneakered feet. "Your mother should have killed you when she killed herself."

In a low growl, Connor says, "You don't get to talk about my mother, filthy demon."

"You miss her." The demon laughs gutturally and cruelly, knowing he's hit a sore spot. "I bet she doesn't miss you. From what I've heard, she tried to abort you. She wanted you out of her belly and saw every witch doctor in the country but you wouldn't die. You made her ill with disgust."

Those words get Connor absolutely furious and he almost launches himself at the demon with fists flying but then stops himself, realising that that's what it wants – to get him riled up in the hopes of making him act without thinking. Anger will only make him careless. What the demon says… it's not true. And even if it is true, that's not how his mother felt towards him in the end. Angel said that Darla loved the baby that they created together, that Connor's soul made her feel things she hadn't felt in a long time. Darla's lifeless body couldn't give birth the normal way and she knew that he was dying inside her so she sacrificed herself in order for him to survive. When she paid Connor that ghostly visit, she said that he was the only good thing her and Angel ever did together. It was her dying wish that Connor should know how much she loved him so whatever this demon says doesn't matter. It's evil. All evil things lie so Connor blocks the cruel taunts aimed at him and keeps his composure.

"Darla detested you living inside her like a parasite," the repulsive creature continues with relish. "She hated you and she hated your human soul. If she had lived through the labour, the first thing she would have done when you were born is rip your little baby throat out. She would have eaten you like a wild animal eats its young."

"Are you done yet? Not that it wasn't a great speech," Connor drawls sarcastically, "but you could have been more inventive with the insults. Parasite? C'mon. Like I haven't heard that one before."

Unperturbed, the demon hisses gurglingly, "Your whore of a mother might not have been able to get rid of you but I will."

"Okay." Connor sighs dramatically. "I can already see how this is gonna go. You attack me, I kick your ugly ass, you bleed all over the sidewalk. I'm not in the mood for fighting and I'm feeling generous so I'll give you to the count of 5 to leave."

"If I don't?"

"It's your funeral." Connor's eyes narrow threateningly. "Although, when I'm done with you there won't be much left to bury."

The demon snarls, exposing horridly decayed black teeth. "Unless I bury you first, vampire spawn."

"Don't call me that," Connor snarls back, taking the initiative and throwing the first punch. The demon tries to duck but moves too slow, Connor's fist glancing off its cheek, bits of whatever the hell it is made of breaking off and pattering to the ground, surprising Connor with its spongy crumbliness. Undeterred by losing a hunk of its own face, the coaly creature swings back, landing a lucky blow on Connor, momentarily stunning the young man with the strength and heaviness of the meaty hand connecting with his face. It's like being smacked with a sack full of soggy seaweed. The two opponents start hitting each other, whacking back and forth with fists, dull thuds echoing in the night while Sebastian watches in growing terror, cringing as he sees his beautiful boy on the receiving end of violence. Every time Connor punches the demon, more bits fall off its coarse body but it doesn't seem to be stopping. Its tissue may be brittle but the demon's power lies in its bulk and mass. Losing a few chunks off its massive hide doesn't appear to be a problem and it continues pummelling Connor's frail form with large, broad fists, Connor taking every hit and giving it back twice as hard, gritting his bared teeth with the effort.

Edging away from the wall he's cowering against, Sebastian quickly reaches down and picks up a small piece that fell off the demon, darting back to safety. He rolls the dark fragment around in his hand, testing the texture. The demon looks like stone but the scrap of material disintegrates with pressure. And it's damp. Greasy, even. Sebastian tentatively sniffs the substance he's holding and the odour reminds him of peat moss soaked in motor oil.

Panting with exertion, Connor decides that brute force isn't working so he whips a nasty-looking knife out of his ankle holster, aiming to cut the damn demon to bits if he can't beat it up. His first slashes slice through the demon's arms easily, the cuts bringing forth thick brown sludge but Connor's efforts have little effect upon the creature's determination to annihilate him and it backhands the teenager across the face, bellowing with rage, sending Connor sprawling and Sebastian's heart up into his throat. Amazingly, Connor shakes his head, recovers and gets up, yelling his own fury, charging forward and stabbing the demon straight in the belly, burying the knife right up to the hilt. Instead of crumpling to the ground, the demon stands there and chuckles thickly while Connor tugs and yanks at the knife. It's stuck in the creature's stomach like a stick in wet cement and Connor backs off with wary eyes when he can't remove it. The demon, however, has no trouble pulling it out and the blade slides free of its flesh with a revolting moist, sucking sound that almost makes Sebastian want to puke.

"Want your knife, little boy?" The demon taunts, holding it out to Connor with fat fingers, the weapon coated in slimy gunk. "Or should I give it to your boyfriend here?" It turns around and stares at Sebastian with black soulless eyes, looking for all his soft spots, spots where the knife can go in nice and easy without scraping against bone.

"Stay away from him!" Connor shouts angrily at the demon, which pays no attention whatsoever, clumping huge heavy feet in the direction of the petrified green-eyed man pressing his back to the wall. When the mini-mountain advances upon him with the sharp blade pointing at his chest and an obscene leer distorting its cavernous mouth, Sebastian thinks wildly that this is the end. All the training he's done is all for nothing. If super-vamp kid Connor can't defeat this demon, what chance has he, a mere mortal, got?

"Oh shit. I'm gonna die," he whimpers, almost peeing himself.

Not going to let anything happen to Sebastian, Connor rushes over and leaps onto the thing's bumpy back, roaring, "I said: stay the fuck away from him!"

As the demon turns its attention away from him and back to Connor – who is resolutely trying to choke its thick, squishy neck with both tiny hands - Sebastian feels, amongst his overwhelming relief and simultaneous panic, immense admiration for the boy's never-give-up attitude. Shrugging its boulder-like shoulders akin to an earthquake, the demon shakes Connor off, spinning around and lashing out with the knife in its huge paw while the teen tries to scramble to his feet. Lunging backwards like Keanu Reeves in Matrix as the razor-sharp blade whistles past his neck, Connor doesn't feel it when the knife cuts him and it happens so fast, Sebastian doesn't see it either. Flat on his back, Connor springs forward with a neat martial arts move, ducking his head and twisting his slim figure with preternatural speed as the foul-smelling demon slices the metal weapon through the air over and over again, endeavouring to make human sushi out of him.

Frantically attempting to figure out how to stop this blood-thirsty demon before Connor gets hurt, Sebastian catches a whiff of the creature's peculiar oily smell on the breeze and an idea light-bulbs in his brain with startling clarity, almost like a vision.

"Hey, lumpy butt!" he calls out, fumbling in his coat pocket. "Yeah, you. Filthy demon!"

Using Connor's choice words makes the craggy creature turn around to face Sebastian in irritation. "You want to die first, stupid man?"

"No," Sebastian says courageously, holding out a silver object. "Do you?"

The evil being in the loincloth looks at the Zippo lighter held in Sebastian's hand and it hesitates. That brief moment of uncertainty is all Sebastian needs to flick the lighter into flame and toss it forward.

"Catch, you son of a bitch!"

The demon tries to bat the lit Zippo aside with one colossal forearm but the instant the lighter touches its skin there is a burst of fire and the thing catches alight like dry autumn leaves. Sebastian watches in jubilant horror as its arm crackles brightly and then the blaze spreads rapidly up that wide neck and down its chest and stomach, engulfing the hefty body in a matter of seconds, happening that fast it's as if someone poured petrol on a barbeque. The demon spins clumsily around, dropping the knife, waving its arms and screeching in pain, unable to put the fire out. Billows of black smoke and sparks lift into the sky, flickering flames casting dancing orange and yellow light onto the buildings around them. A pungent stench fills the air, like burning tyres, the choking smell stinging Sebastian's nostrils and making his eyes water. The hellish screaming is truly ghastly and the older man puts his hands over his ears to try and block it out, wishing the demon would just die already.

Thinking the very same thing, Connor sprints over to the closest wall, runs up the brick surface and jumps off it, whirling around in the air and knocking the demon's head off with a single kick of one long leg, sending the flaming skull skittering down the alleyway like a bowling ball. The demon's headless body slumps to the dirty ground, still burning and sizzling. Thankfully, a well-timed a gust of wind rolls through the city and blows the toxic smoke in the other direction, away from the two males. Connor is kneeling, bracing his hands against his knees and sucking in gulps of air, trying to catch his breath. Sebastian hurries over and crouches next to him, gripping the boy's heaving shoulder.

"You all right, sweetie?"

Connor nods, hair in his eyes. "I'm fine."

"I know you told me to stay back," Sebastian starts anxiously, in case the kid is mad at him for interfering, "but I just had to do it. Sorry."

"No, it's okay." Connor looks up at him, impressed. "I didn't even think of setting him alight. How did you know it would work?"

"Well, he smelled flammable," the older man explains simply. "It's like he was made out of soft coal or something. And when I saw him pause at the sight of my Zippo, I knew he was afraid of fire."

"I appreciate it. You helping," the teenager replies softly, touched that Sebastian would risk his own life for him. Much to his infuriation, Connor has found that people normally run away from danger, not even bothering to thank him as they go. They don't usually jump right in and lend a hand.

"You're more than welcome." Sebastian shakes his head in amazement, buzzing with the exhilaration of it all. "That was quite the rush. And that last move you did – holy shit! That was the coolest thing I've ever seen!"

"Yeah," Connor states with satisfaction. "I like doing those."

There is a smudge of soot on Connor's cheek and Sebastian gently rubs it away with the pad of his thumb.

"Right before you jumped on his back, you swore at him." The older man raises his eyebrows. "I've never heard you swear before, sugarlips."

Embarrassed, Connor mumbles, "Well…I was angry." Plus, the demon was going to hurt you, he adds silently.

Teasingly, Sebastian returns, "I thought it was kinda hot."

A smile tugs at Connor's lips as he thinks of a dozen naughty replies to that, none of which he actually has the guts to say out loud.

"C'mon," Sebastian says, offering Connor his hand. The boy takes it and Sebastian pulls him up and helps him to stand.

Dusting the knees of his jeans down and sparing a glance at the dead demon, Connor comments sagely, "We should get out of here."

"Don't forget your knife," Sebastian reminds him, pointing to the weapon lying a few feet away, grimy with brown slime. "Uh, that's if you still want it."

"It's only demon blood," Connor remarks, picking it up and cleaning the blade with some dried leaves he scoops up off the street. "See, comes right off." He bends down to slip the knife back into his ankle scabbard, covering it up with his pants leg.

It's only when Connor straightens and absently tucks his hair back behind his ear that Sebastian notices a scarlet mark on the kid's neck. "You're bleeding," he remarks with a frown.

Touching the side of his throat, Connor feels the site of his wound. Despite the fact that he is abnormally strong, he can still be injured, albeit temporarily. He looks at his fingertips and they are coated with blood but not much of it. "It's just a scratch," he replies indifferently, wiping his fingers on the back of his jeans.

Concerned, Sebastian orders, "Stand still. Let me see." With one hand, he moves Connor's richly-burnished hair away from his neck and leans down to inspect the damage. A straight, thin line mars Connor's immaculate skin but he's right; it's only a nick, not deep at all. It's not bleeding excessively. If the kid is anything like his immortal father, he should heal up in no time. Now that he has ascertained it's not serious, Sebastian should be taking Connor's advice and getting the fudge out of there but something about the bloody cut standing out sharply against the youth's pale skin mesmerises him – dark red on lily-white. A symbol of the vulnerability under that seemingly unbreakable exterior. Blood represents life, love, anger and passion. Seeing a glistening smear of it on Connor's pure throat looks sinfully, erotically appetizing and Sebastian unconsciously licks his lips, drawn to the sight in a very primal way.

Still high on adrenaline from the fight, Connor's nerves and senses are activated to ultra-sensitive and he can feel the waves of attraction coming from Sebastian like heat, the older man's fervent gaze brushing against him like phantom caresses, making him want things he probably shouldn't be wanting. The minor injury on his neck ought to be stinging but it's not; it's tingling, as if sensing what Sebastian intends to do to it. The second male places one hand on Connor's shoulder, right where it joins up to his throat, tanned fingers spanning the space between the neckline of Connor's navy top and warm bare skin. When Sebastian inclines his head, meaning to lick the small wound clean, Connor pulls back slightly, weakly protesting, "No…you don't know what it could do to you."

"I don't care," Sebastian murmurs in desire. Connor tasted his blood a year ago - after yanking Sebastian's nipple piercing too hard - and now Sebastian wants to taste his.

"You're not a vampire, darlin'. Shit, even if you were, I still wouldn't care."

Closing his eyes, Sebastian brings his face close to the side of Connor's neck, breathing in the mysterious, alluring scent of the teenager; mixed smells like exhaust fumes from the city trapped in his clothing and hair, the earthy pine aroma of the wood that Connor makes his stakes from and the lemony tang of shaving lotion lingering on his skin, all overshadowed by the intoxicating maleness that seeps from every cell of the boy's body. As a general rule, Connor doesn't let anyone near his throat, especially not if he's bleeding, but he intuitively knows he's safe with Sebastian. Besides, having the leather-clad twenty six-year old this close to him – wanting him - is turning Connor on big time so he surrenders to the moment, head tilting to one side submissively.

Not worried about what effect this might have upon himself, Sebastian carefully runs the tip of his tongue along the shallow incision on Connor's throat, licking the blood away. An almost inaudible gasp comes from the other boy at the searing feel of Sebastian's hot tongue on his air-chilled flesh but he doesn't move otherwise, allowing this never-before given intimacy. The taste of Connor's blood blooms in Sebastian's mouth like rusty pennies, salty and metallic at the same time but certainly not unpleasant. He closes his mouth on Connor's neck, sucking to draw out more of that precious fluid, letting it spread over his tongue, gaining a glimpse into why vamps like doing this so much. It's exciting, forbidden and deeply sensual; Connor's erratic pulse thudding under his lips. Rather than try to push Sebastian away, the eighteen year-old stands there motionless and yielding, as if in a daze, as if under some kind of spell, languid liquidity pooling in his lower stomach and making him weak at the knees. When Sebastian gives him a particularly hard suck, Connor gasps louder, feeling it all the way into his groin, and he grabs at the other man's leather coat to stop himself from sliding limply to the ground.

The curly-haired male licks the healing wound one more time and then kisses drunkenly up the statuesque line of Connor's neck, along his jaw, reaching the boy's mouth and capturing it the way he wanted to earlier. Connor's pouty lips are everything Sebastian remembers: soft as strawberry sponge cake and just as sweet. Cupping the kid's chin with tender fingers, the older male lays hungry kisses on those lips, drinking in the sheer deliciousness there, before tracing the seam between them with his tongue, enticing Connor to let him in. If Connor was some anonymous guy he met in a club, Sebastian would be halfway down his throat by now but he has more respect for the demon slayer and won't force him to do anything he doesn't want to. As if Connor could be forced anyway. He'd knock Sebastian on his ass before anything resembling that could happen. Fully understanding the consequences of being too pushy, Sebastian lightly nibbles on Connor's full lower lip, drawing it through his teeth before trying once again to coax the teenager into opening up for his probing, using patience and persuasion. His gentleness pays off and under his hand Sebastian feels Connor's jaw move as the youth's lips soften and part for him, consenting to take the kiss further.

When their tongues touch for the first time, both of them jolt a little at the current crackling between them, that current pulling them together like magnets, Sebastian immediately pushing closer to Connor and sinking his fingers into that mass of auburn hair. Becoming more assertive now that's he's been given permission to go this far, Sebastian thrusts his tongue into Connor's mouth and to his thrilled delight the younger one thrusts right back, showing his own aggressive streak. Connor still tastes like candy, like the teenager that he is, but this is a different kiss than last time and Sebastian realises why. It's because Connor is not a naïve adolescent any longer. Connor is practically an adult and he is kissing Sebastian back with an expertise he lacked before along with an unmistakable awareness of where this is leading. That Connor wants this to happen, apparently as much as Sebastian wants it, makes the twenty six year-old dizzy with the knowledge.

All this time, and the very reason he stayed away from the kid, was because Sebastian thought that Connor was straight as an arrow but with the way his eager little tongue is wrapping around Sebastian's right now it appears that he is very clearly not. Perhaps Sebastian thought that he was into girls because Connor's sexuality wasn't fully developed when they met. He gave Connor his first skin-on-skin experience and the boy had to be shown what to do, step by step. He didn't know anything back then, least of all what team he batted for. However, now Connor seems to have figured himself out and he certainly doesn't have to be told what to do next.

With an authoritativeness Sebastian has never seen in the kid before, Connor gives a muffled growl and slams him into the nearest wall, pinning him there with superhuman force. Feeling the unbelievable strength contained in that slender body, controlled just enough not to hurt him, gives Sebastian a shock and a massive hard-on at the same time and he gasps into Connor's mouth, which is still somehow attached to his. Belatedly, he realises that Connor is straining on tip-toe to equal his six-foot plus height so he slumps down the wall a little to make them more evenly matched. It's not hard to do since his legs are turning to jelly anyway.

Then Connor attacks him, all open mouth and plunging tongue, flattening Sebastian into the rough bricks behind him, the boy's sharp hipbones and angular limbs pressing bruisingly into the older man's flesh. For such a wisp of a boy, there is nothing soft and delicate about his actions and he kisses Sebastian in a way he wouldn't dare do to a girl, with a savagery he knows Sebastian can handle. And Sebastian is handling it just fine, if you don't count him helplessly groaning in his throat and trying not to come in his boxers with the hotness of it all.

Meanwhile, Connor is feeding off how out of control Sebastian is getting and he provocatively pushes up harder against the older one's toned body, so different to a girl's body; all solid, flat muscle where there is usually ample curves and perfumed softness. There are no painted fingers caressing Connor's figure but big strong hands, gripping him securely around the ribcage and not letting go. There's no lipstick rubbing off on his mouth, just stubble scratching his chin and upper lip from Sebastian's three-day growth. The way they are kissing and mauling each other- it's rough, raw and primitive. And Connor loves it. The liberating sense of being with another guy, someone he doesn't have to be gentle with, someone who knows the full extent of male lust and revels in it. The untamed exhilaration… He's never felt anything like this with a girl. Forget girls. A man like Sebastian is more than enough for him.

The same can be said for the other half of the groping duo. Sebastian has been with his share of men but not any of them - not a single one - have made him feel as though he's melting and burning up at the same time, like he's dissolving into nothingness and yet becoming more alive, every molecule of him humming and sparking with energy. Head swimming with the disorienting, drugged sensation, he clutches at Connor's tiny waist, yanking the boy between his spread legs and against his pelvis, pressing his male stiffness into Connor's thigh.

"You feel that, baby?" he breathes urgently against the vampire hunter's lips. "You have no idea how much I want you."

"Tell me," Connor breathes back, drunk on his power over the other man.

"I want to feel every inch of your beautiful body," Sebastian pledges passionately. "And I want you to feel mine. Everywhere." He reinforces this statement by taking one of the boy's hands and wedging it between their bodies, dragging it down until Connor comes into contact with his proud erection. The eighteen year old looks down, amazed by the hardness under his fingers and the simmering heat he can feel radiating through the fabric of the other man's trousers. The male sex organ pulses like something living and Connor can't resist squeezing it, causing Sebastian to swear vehemently and buck his hips. Connor's heart thumps in his chest as he boldly begins rubbing that hot length with the heel of his palm; slow, long experimental strokes up the thick shaft and then down; the first time he's ever touched another guy there. Even last time they were together, Connor didn't go anywhere near Sebastian's dick. Tonight is his chance to change all that.

With every rub of the teen's taunting hand, Sebastian hisses at the almost unbearable friction of his engorged member chafing against his own pants. "Jesus, kid. Are you trying to drive me insane?"

"Maybe."

The flirtatious nature of Connor's remark makes Sebastian laugh weakly. "Well, you're doing a damn fine job of it, sunshine. I'm gonna need a straightjacket soon." All humour goes out the window when Connor jabs the distinct proof of his own arousal into Sebastian's hip, wanting the second male to feel it, to know that he's turned on too, that he's just as stiff and throbbing by what they are doing.

"Oh God, honey," the green-eyed man moans. "You're so hard." He slides his palms up the back of Connor's top, needing to touch warm bare flesh, needing to feel closer to the auburn-haired youth but it's nowhere near as close as he longs to be. Half-crazy with unappeased desire, all Sebastian's secret wishes spill out of him, shamelessly and openly.

"Christ, I want you so bad, Connor. I want to taste every bit of you. I want to feel your hair brushing against me, your naked skin on mine…"

Sebastian's emerald eyes glitter in the dark, his voice seductive and sexy. "I want your fingers all over me..." He pauses and licks his lips.

"In me."

Those last two added words send an electric thrill whip-cracking through Connor's body and he blushes hotly at the shocking suggestion. But Sebastian isn't finished yet. Grabbing Connor by his perfectly-shaped bottom, the taller male pushes his thickened manhood firmly between the other boy's legs. He rolls his hips sensuously against Connor's and the teenager gives a soft whimper, arching his back.

"I want you inside me," Sebastian whispers, leaning in near Connor's ear. "I want you to fuck me until I can't walk."

A quicksilver bolt of lust shoots straight into Connor's gut, his abdominal muscles contracting so tightly that he loses his breath for a few seconds. It doesn't matter that speech is evading him because he wouldn't be able to get a word in edgeways over Sebastian's enthusiastic commentary.

"You can do it right now and I'll let you, sugar. I'm ready; all you need is some spit for lube. If you want me to suck your dick first, I will do it. I will lick your balls, your ass…whatever you want. As long as you shove your hot teenage cock all the way up my-"

To stop the startling obscenities pouring from Sebastian's mouth, Connor kisses him. Hard. He slips his hands into Sebastian's ebony curls, finds that filthy tongue and keeps it occupied tangling with his, both of them gyrating against each other and making thrusting motions as best they can with all their clothes on. While they are busy dry-humping, Connor fully realises that he could have Sebastian right there in the side street, right against the wall if he wanted to but his brain hasn't fully been drained of blood by his crotch like Sebastian's has. As much as he wants to give the other man what he's begging for, what he himself would like to do, Connor knows they can't go any further here. They can't risk another demon showing up, or a vampire, catching them with their pants literally down. Connor can't protect Sebastian if he's tripping over his own jeans and anyway, right next to a smoking demon corpse is so not the most pleasant place to have reunion sex.

Forcing himself to pull away from Sebastian, Connor rubs the back of his hand across his mouth and announces, "We need to get indoors. It's not safe here."

Though horny as hell, Sebastian reluctantly sees the kid's point and runs his fingers through his dishevelled hair, still breathing fast. "Where are we going to go?"

"Anywhere else." Scanning the area around them, Connor knows that where one demon is, more will usually follow and they would be wise to leave right away.

Trying to straighten his clothing and will the tell-tale bulging at the front of his trousers to go down, Sebastian queries, "What about back to your place? How far is that from here?"

"Twenty minutes walk maybe," the teen guesses. Unlike Sebastian, his jeans are so baggy it's difficult to tell that he's been rubbing up against someone else like a randy tomcat. But his lips are all swollen and flushed the deep purple-red colour of ripened figs.

"And that's if we take shortcuts."

Groaning with impatience, Sebastian objects, "I can't wait that long! And my house isn't any closer. What are we gonna do?"

Connor is about to say that his dad lives in an old hotel but then he remembers that Angel and all his buddies left there and moved into the heart of Evil Central. Otherwise known as multidimensional law firm Wolfram and Hart. And even though his father now runs the place, Connor still doesn't like going there. He can still see the floors splashed with blood and the corridors crawling with zombies.

"We'll have to get a room," he decides. He glances at Sebastian's expensive outfit. "You have money, right?"

"Yeah." Sebastian shakes his head dazedly. "Sure."

Apologetically, Connor comments, "I would take care of it but you know…" He lifts an abashed shoulder. "Unpaid job."

Sebastian waves his hand unconcernedly. "Don't worry about it. If this was a date, I'd pay anyway."

Giving Sebastian a pointed look, Connor repeats, "If?"

"Well, we just kinda ran into each other. A date is when two people AGREE to meet at a designated time and place," Sebastian says jestingly.

"Like the guy waiting at the bar for you?" Connor reminds him in a slightly jealous tone.

"He'll get over it." Sebastian smooches Connor reassuringly on the forehead. "You're my date now, peach pie, even though none of this was planned."

"Well, we'd better plan where we're gonna go now," Connor urges, eager to leave this dingy alley.

"I passed a motel before," the older male reveals, knowing he's going to regret this later. "It's pretty close. But, uh…It's not exactly the Hilton."

"What's a Hilton?"

Before an incredulous Sebastian can answer that, Connor grins. "Kidding. I watch TV. I know all about Paris."

"Really." The gay male can't hide his disdain at the mention of that name. "Suppose you think she's hot, do you?"

"Her?" Connor screws up his cute little nose. "Eww. No way. In fact, I think she's some type of demon."

Chuckling, Sebastian answers, "You might be right, shortcake. There's something not quite right with that chick I mean, look at her eyes. Freaky."

"So, are we going to this motel or what?" Connor prompts impatiently.

"You don't care that the rooms probably have roaches in them the size of small dogs?"

"Hey, I grew up on a hell dimension, living with things that crawl down your throat and drink every drop of water in your body. Compared to Sluks, a few measly cockroaches are nothing." Connor finishes cheekily with, "Or would you rather walk all the way back to your house?"

"No, no," Sebastian hurriedly replies, imagining how long he'd have to wait before he could get Connor naked. "The motel will be fine. If you don't care I won't."

"I really don't." The teenager shrugs, willing to go anywhere in the world Sebastian suggests provided there's pantsless action involved. "Which way are we headed?"

Sebastian bows, indicating the way with a courteous sweep of his hand. "After you, m'dear."

As they're walking along side by side, back into the urban area of the city, Connor's hand accidentally brushes against Sebastian's and the second male has the sudden, stupid urge to link their fingers together but he doesn't actually do it. It wouldn't be the first time Sebastian has held hands with another dude but this street-smart kid doesn't seem like the touchy-feely type, at least not in public. But that's okay. Sebastian can restrain himself until they are alone. And then he can touch Connor all he wants. Anywhere he wants…

Unaware of what carnal ideas Sebastian is dreaming of, Connor has his own thoughts, thoughts of a certain women's magazine. CLEO, to be precise. One of the ones Cordy left behind at his place. He doesn't read trashy magazines like that but a few months ago during the daytime he was bored and flicked through it just for something to do. He quite enjoyed the articles on sex and learned a few handy tips for the future. If you sifted through the hundreds of clothing, jewellery and perfume ads there was some great reading material to be found. When he turned the page after a piece on reader's confessions he got the shock of his life. There was an advertisement for designer jeans, which was nothing unusual, but modelling a pair with no shirt on was the one and only Sebastian Christensen. Connor could not mistake those sultry green eyes and mop of black curls and he stared at that picture with his heart pounding for a long time. He knew what Sebastian did for a living however he didn't realise that the man appeared in well-known publications like CLEO. Sebastian must be semi famous, at least in the modelling industry. That possibly explains why he was dressed as a woman that night a year ago. Perhaps he was going incognito and didn't want to be recognised by anyone. When they met, Connor had no idea who Sebastian was but after seeing that shirtless photo, he won't ever forget. Almost every day since then Connor has taken the magazine out from its hiding place and looked at the full colour page, remembering the amazing night he got to sleep with that hot male model. People all over the world would be seeing that same picture, lusting over Sebastian, wanting to have him, and Connor already did. It almost seemed like a dream but he knew it really happened.

Sometimes he'd lie on his bed and look at the ad intensely, taking in every detail of Sebastian's half-naked body – the wide spread of his shoulders, the contour of his chest, the tautness of his flat belly, the way the denim jeans rode low on his narrow hips, just above his pubic area. He stared at that handsome face, at the high cheekbones, sensual lips half-parted and the come-screw-me eyes blazing out from the page like green fire and more often than not, Connor would find his hand disappearing into his own pants, imagining all the things he'd like to do to Sebastian if he had half a chance and all the things he'd like to have done to him in return.

Afterwards, he'd feel disgusted with himself, getting off over some guy he'll never see again and who probably thought of Connor as a one-night stand, just one of many naïve people he's seduced for fun. Looking at that glossy advertisement, Connor had no doubt in his mind that Sebastian didn't even recall his name what with the guy's busy, jet-setting, glamorous catwalk lifestyle but he had been wrong. Tonight Sebastian has proven him wrong.

For once in his life, someone hasn't forgotten Connor. Not only that, but Sebastian wants to make love with him! All right, he didn't say it in such polite terms but whatever. Same thing. Sebastian wants him. Nobody has wanted Connor for so long and to know that someone finally does feels so good. He is actually excited about living in this world now. Before, his day would consist of wake up, steal food, hunt, kill, shower, go to bed. Smacking the slime out of evil beasties gave him a temporary rush but after that faded, the loneliness and unhappiness settled right back in. Sometimes, lying in his bed all by himself, he craved the touch of someone else the way a smoker craves nicotine, his body aching with it. He knew he could probably go down town and bring back a girl off the streets - he'd seen them looking at him with interest - but he also knew that he couldn't do it because of his inherent distrust of other people, especially females. Knowing his luck, he'd pick up a demon chick or something.

But it wasn't merely sex he missed; sometimes he just wanted a friendly face to greet him when he came home from the hunt, someone to welcome him, someone who was happy to see him. His place was always so empty and silent; his only company the stuffed animals standing frozenly on the floor. It was a depressing existence but now that Connor has Sebastian by his side he doesn't feel alone and unwanted anymore. The older male makes him feel special and important. He hasn't felt like that in…oh…ever. And to think, if he hadn't gone out hunting in the exact same area that Sebastian was walking, their paths would not have crossed. L.A. is a big city. It's easy to live there for years and not see the same person twice. He can't help thinking that the Powers That Be had a hand in all of this. Whatever it is, fate, destiny, simple good fortune – positive things are finally coming Connor's way and he sneaks a fleeting look at the curly-haired man walking next to him, something warm growing inside his ribs and replacing the hard coldness he's so familiar with.

"What?" Sebastian asks, noticing the boy's thoughtful expression.

"Nothing," Connor automatically replies, accustomed to keeping his feelings to himself.

"You're thinking something," the other male remarks with a smile. "Care to share? I'm a good listener. And I'm great at keeping secrets."

Under normal circumstances, Connor would clam up like the proverbial shellfish but something about Sebastian's gentle, inquisitive nature makes him want to be open for once. "It's just…it's nice to hang out with someone," he finally admits. "I don't have any real friends, Sebastian. People that know who I am. You'd be the first."

"I'm honoured that you consider me your friend," Sebastian returns, genuinely touched. "And please, call me Seb. My other friends do."

"You have a lot of friends?" Connor asks, already knowing with Sebastian's charming, likeable personality that this must be true.

"I guess. Only a couple of close ones, though," Sebastian amends. "The rest are fun to go out socialising or clubbing with."

"I don't socialise," Connor states. "If I ever go to a club, it's because I know vampires are inside." He smiles dryly. "Not for the half-price cocktails."

"I'm sure you don't," Sebastian laughs, imagining Connor holding a fancy glass full of pink liquid with a teeny umbrella on the side.

"You remember me talking about Lorne?"

At Connor's enquiry, Sebastian lifts a well-shaped eyebrow. "Horns? Green skin? Yeah, I remember."

"He's a friend of my father's. Owns a karaoke club. Empath demon," Connor explains nonchalantly. "If you sing, Lorne can tell your future."

"A clairvoyant karaoke demon?" Sebastian shakes his head in incredulity. "Man. That should be a TV show."

"Angel sings for him when he needs help." Connor's lips twist. "My dad is a terrible singer. He could kill with his voice alone if he wanted to."

Amused, Sebastian says, "What about you, lollipop? Can you sing?"

"Not so well." Connor grimaces, trying to forget the sappy duet he sang with his father: a revised version of Mandy, while both of them were under a certain uber-goddess's power. "And I'm not going go all American Idol for Lorne, either. I don't need somebody telling me what's going to happen to my life. I like not knowing." He sneaks a sideways peep at Sebastian. "Not knowing keeps it interesting."

"It sure does," the emerald-eyed man murmurs, ecstatic with the surprise that fell from the sky tonight. "And you're definitely the most interesting thing to ever happen to me, Connor. By far."

The boy turns his head, finding Sebastian looking at him as though he's a rare and valuable jewel and Connor swallows and shifts his eyes away, not used to having anyone look at him like that. He doesn't feel worthy of such a look. He doesn't feel worthy of Sebastian. The guy is one of the hottest men Connor has ever seen and not only that, he's kind, cheerful and witty. He's accepting, understanding and unabashedly honest with brains to match his arresting beauty. Big bonus: he doesn't treat Connor like a freak. He treats Connor with warmth and affection, like a person, like a friend, almost like…like a lover.

Then again, Sebastian is twenty six years old and has so much more life experience than Connor. He's probably had a bunch of lovers whereas Connor can count his on two fingers. Sebastian has grown up with a real family and has learnt to be caring and demonstrative towards others whereas Connor has learnt how to kill and destroy. Sebastian is good with people and Connor…well; he and the general public don't really get along. Sebastian has got a flashy career and earns lots of money while Connor is dirt-poor and does a job nobody else wants to do. Sebastian probably dines out at the finest restaurants and Connor is lucky to scavenge a candy bar for dinner.

They don't even look alike. Sebastian's skin is bronzed and glowing while Connor's is pasty-white. Sebastian is taller and bigger with all the muscles that Connor wishes he had. The older man's clothing is tailored and brand-named while Connor is wearing what he found on the floor that day. Sebastian's jet-black hair is expertly styled and layered; Connor's is unkempt and uncared for. The only reason it's this long is because he has more pressing things to do than sit in a barber's chair. Like saving the world, for instance. But Sebastian is used to being pampered and primped. His job depends on it, on him being perfectly presented. Even his oval-shaped nails are manicured and impeccably clean, not chipped from fighting like Connor's. He's everything that Connor's not – the complete opposite. Yet, he's not pretentious about it and he doesn't have an ego. He's pretty damn down to earth for such a good-looking person. With all his many charms and qualities Sebastian is almost too wonderful to be true. For some incomprehensible reason, he wants Connor over anybody else he could be with and Connor hopes like hell that he doesn't disappoint the dude.

PART THREE

As the two past and potential lovers head down the street in the direction of the motel Sebastian passed earlier, an electronic beeping starts coming from the depths of the older male's tailored leather coat. Connor glances at Sebastian, recognising the beeping as the theme from Knight Rider, one of the coolest shows he's seen in his late-night television marathons.

"Shit," Sebastian mutters, stopping and digging in his pocket, not welcoming the interruption to this fabulous night which is about to get even more fabulous when he and Connor get a room and get naked. Talking to anyone, no matter who it is, isn't something he wants to do right now and when he looks at the phone he doesn't recognise the number which only increases his sense of annoyance. But at the same time, he's loath to ignore the call just in case it's something important, like his heavily pregnant younger sister having been rushed to hospital early.

"Sorry, babe," he says apologetically to Connor. "I better get this."

Connor respectfully turns away, surveying up and down the street for anything amiss, as is his habit, while Sebastian presses the "TALK" button, shoves his glossy curls aside and holds the silver device to his ear.

"Seb here." Connor senses an awkward pause and when he peeks discreetly at Sebastian, notices a slight look of guilt spreading across the taller man's face.

"Hi, Pete. Uh…Listen, I'm not going to be able to make it tonight."

Connor can hear a faint male voice issuing from Sebastian's phone and the voice sounds a little pissed. On the receiving end of the verbal chastising, the dark-haired man chews on his lip uncomfortably.

"Yeah, I know, I know. I'm sorry. I should have called but…" Here he glances at Connor. "Something came up."

Using his super-listening skills, Connor zeros in on the voice and hears the Pete guy demanding to know what exactly came up: something or somebody? Sebastian sighs, running one hand through his springy black mane.

"Okay, somebody. Look, it's nothing personal. I just…I ran into an old flame tonight, okay?"

Hearing that, Connor snaps out of his snooping, tilting his head inquisitively at Sebastian. Nobody has ever called him a flame before. That kinda means boyfriend, right? As if confirming his theory, the twenty six-year old turns and looks straight at Connor, his emerald gaze level and open.

"Yes, I still have feelings for him." Sebastian pauses. "Pretty big ones, actually."

At that declaration, Connor blinks in surprise, his heart skipping a few beats.

"So, yeah. I don't think you and me are ever gonna happen, Pete. Sorry." Staring absently at a girl whizzing by on a purple scooter, Sebastian listens to the response from the other guy and then laughs, his sombre mood lightening instantly.

"The bartender? I don't show and you hook up with the bartender already? I'm almost insulted." He chuckles some more. "Well, no hard feelings, man. Have a great night." He glances at Connor and winks playfully. "I know *I* will."

The mischievous comment makes Connor's cheeks colour slightly. His pulse is still irregular as the second male says goodbye and hangs up.

"Sorry about that, cookie," Sebastian apologises. "I'll turn this damn thing off so nobody else can call me." He hits another button and the small screen on the front of the phone goes blank, then he slips it back into his pocket.

"Was he mad?" Connor ventures, timidly looking at the other man. "I could hear him and he sounded mad."

"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about him," Sebastian breezes. "Like I said before: he'll get over it."

"But I don't want to cause any trouble between you," Connor stresses, fully understanding that he's the sole reason Sebastian ditched the guy. "What's he gonna say next time you see him?"

"I don't give a fuck what he says," Sebastian tosses back. "I hardly even know the dude, Connor. We're not friends. We never slept together. And I'm never seeing him again."

"You're not?" The eighteen year old questions hopefully.

"No, sweet pea. I'm not." Sebastian's voice gentles and he slips an errant auburn lock back behind Connor's ear, gazing down into those luminous blue orbs that all-too-clearly express emotion. "You're the only one I want to see now. The only one. Just you. Okay?"

Feeling foolish for his concerns, Connor nods, letting Sebastian smooth back his hair even though there are people visible on this street, walking along and going past in cars. But Connor hardly even registers that they are there; so caught up with this compelling, intense…thing… that's developing between he and the other attractive male. It's hypnotic. When Sebastian focuses on him this way – as if there's nothing or nobody else around them – the city and its inhabitants just fade away and the younger boy finds it hard to notice anything apart from the crystalline clarity of Sebastian's jewel-green gaze and the almost startling black pinpoints of his pupils, concentrated intently on Connor's face, as if searching into his mind and reading the thoughts hidden there. It's like being gazed upon by a supreme being, a god – humbling and awe-inspiring at the same time and if he looks too long Connor could drown in the splendour of those magical eyes.

It is with dreamy slowness that Sebastian leans down and brushes his mouth lightly across Connor's, the smaller boy lowering his lashes at the feather-soft contact. Sebastian's fingers spread into the fine red hair at the nape of his neck and Connor feels shivers dancing down his vertebrae. He nuzzles against Sebastian's barely parted lips, the silkiness of them a luscious contrast to the roughness of the older male's unshaven face. Time stands still as their breaths mingle and auras melt into each other the way their bodies want to do.

Suddenly jolted back to reality by the blare of a nearby car horn, Connor realises that he and Sebastian are standing in the middle of the sidewalk practically making out so he drags his mouth away and turns his face, making Sebastian pull back and drop his hand. Self-consciously, Connor takes a few steps in reverse and glances around to see if anyone was watching them - not because he's ashamed of what they were doing but because he wasn't paying attention to the rest of the world and therefore to any baddies that could have been sneaking up on them. By being so wrapped up in Sebastian and losing track of their surroundings he made them both sitting ducks and they could have been quite easily assailed by a number of undead and unpleasant beings, even out here in the open under the streetlights. Demons and vamps will jump him anywhere. Connor is well aware that simply by standing near him, Sebastian also becomes a target and thus becomes vulnerable to attack. He knows that Sebastian can fight and defend himself now but Connor still feels that it is his responsibility to ensure the second man is kept safe from harm. If anything happened to Sebastian because of him…If he got hurt… or worse…Connor would never, ever forgive himself. He cannot afford to let his guard down like this again. Not in a city full of creatures that crave human blood.

"Let's keep moving," he all but growls, striding off without even looking at Sebastian lest his awful fears show. Hurrying after Connor, Sebastian curses himself for getting carried away and touching the teenager in public. But Christ, he can't help getting carried away when Connor is with him. When that gorgeous kid looks up at him like that – full of trusting hope and desperate expectation - like Sebastian is the answer to all his prayers, like he's everything Connor's always wanted, it's too goddamn hard not to touch him, to kiss him. Sebastian wants to give the lonely boy all the love he's missed out on and obviously needs. But still, he should know better. There's a time and place for everything and that's why they are going to the motel. Best he keeps his hands to himself until then or Connor might smack him in the eye and wreck his next photo shoot.

Sebastian catches up to the stiffly striding eighteen year old and slants a glance his way, gauging his mood. Connor doesn't look at him. He's got his hands in his jeans pockets, his aggressive body language screaming Back the Fuck Off.

"I'm sorry," Sebastian says quietly. "I shouldn't have done that. I should have waited until…" He trails off, not sure if Connor is even going to let him get close again.

Connor is silent for a bit and then he sighs, his posture relaxing, his tense shoulders slumping. "No, it's not you, Seb."

At the use of his nickname – permitted only to his nearest and dearest - Sebastian gets a little thrill.

"I put us in danger," Connor declares, shaking his head in disgust. "I'm normally watching what's going on around me. And for a moment, I wasn't. I got distracted."

"By me," Sebastian supplies with a grimace.

Despite his self-castigation, Connor manages a small smile. "Not that it wasn't a nice distraction. But I know what kinds of things live in this place and you don't want to turn your back on them." His tone grows bitter and jaded. "Otherwise you end up dead."

"Sorry," Sebastian mutters again, knowing the kid is correct.

Connor sighs once more. "Not your fault. I'm the one who's the demon magnet." He shoots Sebastian a blackly humorous look. "Still want to date me?"

Sebastian grins widely. "Shit, yeah."

The eighteen year old allows himself to grin back. "So, you like Knight Rider, huh?"

Thus ensues a discussion about 80's TV shows, something to talk about while they trek towards their much-anticipated destination. They are in the middle of debating which are their favourite characters out of the He-man cartoon series when Connor halts suddenly, veering down a side street with a very clear purpose in mind.

"Lord, what now?" Sebastian cusses in exasperation, following the boy and expecting to discover something gross and oozing down there that needs to be exterminated. Instead, Connor heads towards a large metal box with a glass front sitting on the pavement. It's a vending machine full of tasty treats and Connor stands in front of it, gazing wistfully at what's inside like a kid into a toy store window.

"Chocolate," he murmurs in a low purr that sounds as though it ought to belong in the bedroom. He is about to punch through the glass to get what he wants when Sebastian speedily grabs his arm.

"Hey, hey. You don't have to do that, eager beaver. I got coins." Sebastian fishes some out of his wallet and hands them to Connor, quipping, "You put these in the slot and press the buttons. That's how normal people do it."

"But that's no fun," Connor counters and proceeds to get some sustenance the old-fashioned way. There's a chinking sound as the coins fall into the collection bucket and then a mechanical whirring as he selects a candy bar made from dark chocolate with a creamy peppermint filling. Connor watches hungrily as the foil wrapped package drops to the opening and he snatches it up, shoving in more money and choosing another snack, this one full of peanuts and caramel. When the second bar appears in the collection bin, Connor grabs it, immediately ripping it open and taking a big bite as though he hasn't eaten for days. Sebastian witnesses a look of pure ecstasy cross Connor's face and the boy closes his eyes for a moment as he chews, looking as if he's enjoying something much more than mere food. As if just realising his manners, he holds the half-eaten bar out to Sebastian and offers, "Wanna bite?"

"No, thanks. I'm a model. I have to watch my weight," Sebastian jokes. "Besides, I think you need it more than I do. Have you even had dinner tonight?"

"This IS my dinner," Connor replies, biting off another chunk. Making a muffled groan of bliss, he savours the sweet delicacy before swallowing. "Back on Qor'toth, we survived on whatever meat I killed and this weird fruit that tasted like turnips. I didn't even know candy existed. But now I can't get enough of it."

"Careful, cherub," Sebastian laughingly suggests as the youth polishes off the first candy bar and enthusiastically begins on the second. "You might make yourself sick."

"No I won't," Connor mumbles around a mouthful. "I never get sick. Never even had a cold." He makes an adorable quizzical, musing face. "I don't even think I can."

"Coughing, sweating, aches and mucus…You're not missing anything," Sebastian drolly advises. "Trust me."

His hunger satisfied, at least for food, Connor licks each of his long fingers clean of melted chocolate using his little pink tongue – the sight almost giving Sebastian another hard-on - and then they start walking again, a little faster, knowing that the motel isn't far away now.

"Sebastian, can I ask you a personal question?" Connor broaches shortly after.

"Absolutely, darlin'," the taller man assents, keeping an eye out for the red door he saw earlier. "The more personal the better."

Connor focuses intently on his dark-haired partner. "When did you know you were gay?"

Not bothered by the query about his private life, Sebastian answers truthfully, "I've always known. Since I was like, five or six. I knew even back when I didn't know the name for it. I was always aware that I was different from other boys. I used to play with toy soldiers, but instead of pretending to be at war, I'd make them kiss each other." He chuckles. "You should have seen my bedroom walls when I was fourteen: totally covered in posters of long-haired guys in rock bands and actors that I thought were hot. I had the biggest crush on Bret Michaels from Poison. I had this poster of him right near my bed and every night I would kiss it…" He stops and grins sheepishly at Connor.

"I'm sounding like such a dork, aren't I?"

Connor shakes his head and smiles in amusement, trying to imagine Sebastian as a hormonal teenager.

"Anyway, I never had to come out of the closet because I was never in it," the older male concludes. "Some guys don't realise until they're married with a few kids. Or else they do know but they try to hide it. But me…I never had to tell anybody that I was gay because everyone around me already knew. I guess I was lucky that way."

"And nobody cared?"

"Well, not anyone that mattered to me. I got beat up a couple of times in high school because of it but you know, that's life," the twenty six-year old finishes with a shrug. "There's always someone that doesn't like you."

Feeling a surge of fury, Connor wishes he could have been there at Sebastian's school when that happened. If he'd seen anybody lay a hand on his gentle green-eyed friend, Connor would have punched the fuckers into the asphalt until there was nothing left but a bloody smear.

"You look ready to murder someone," Sebastian teases, giving Connor a nudge. "Don't worry about it, hon. It was a long time ago."

"I know but…It's wrong," Connor replies in quiet anger. "Sometimes, I don't know why I bother to save people. They suck."

"Not all of them," Sebastian decrees, looking directly at Connor. The boy meets his gaze, his noticeable rage slowly subsiding under the warm caress of Sebastian's eyes.

"I guess not," Connor answers softly, glancing away in shyness. "Some of you are actually worth the effort."

If Sebastian wasn't already in love with the boy, he would have fallen head over heels right then and there for being handed such a tremendous compliment. "When we get a room," he promises Connor impassionedly, "I am so kissing the hell out of that sweet mouth of yours."

Connor cannot stop himself from getting ridiculously excited by that vow and he quickly lowers his face, shielding his tell-tale reaction with his long hair, his heart thumping rapidly like he's just run on foot from one end of Los Angeles to the other. With some perplexity, he wonders why Sebastian affects him so much. In the past, he was always attracted to older women. Perhaps it's not surprising, then, that he's attracted to Sebastian. He may not be a woman but he's definitely older. Must be the wisdom and confidence of a few more years of life experience that Connor finds so appealing. People in their late twenties or thirties have been through shit; they know who they are and they are more comfortable with themselves. Sebastian in particular is a very poised individual, brimming with self-assurance, a healthy sense of humour, and a love of all things sensual and fun. He's got loads of good advice and knowledge to share with anyone who needs it plus a sympathetic ear and kind heart. When he says things, he means them and he knows what he's talking about. He's not posturing or pretending to be something he's not just to please other people. What you see with Sebastian is what you get. He is who he is and he obviously loves his life.

He obviously loves flirting too and that is probably what rattles Connor so much. Sebastian is the most overtly teasing and enticing person Connor has ever met and when all that flirtatiousness is aimed straight at him undiluted, it's pretty darn difficult not to be affected. He may not show it outwardly but Connor is just as keen to get to this motel and do all those X-rated things that Sebastian asked him to. Twice. He's so hyped-up about that he can hardly stand it and it takes a lot of discipline on his part not to overtake Sebastian and break into a jog to get there first.

Thankfully for both of them, Sebastian soon spies that scarlet door with the chipped paint a short distance ahead in the street. It's a bit hard to miss with the bright aqua neon sign right next to it in the window, proclaiming anonymity assured. The entrance to the motel is sandwiched amongst two other stores, one of them appropriately selling adult wares like DVDs and vibrators, the other a tattoo and piercing parlour. As he heads right up to the tarnished doorknob that's been touched by God knows how many other unwashed hands, Sebastian is hit by the sleaziness of this whole situation and he feels a dirty sense of shame that jars with his normally unabashed character. There are people further along the street, milling outside bars and nightclubs, talking and laughing, not close enough to recognise him yet Sebastian still hunches into his coat as if afraid of being seen here, doing this. Paying cash for a cheap motel bed to fuck in is not only sordid and seedy but he thinks Connor really deserves to be taken somewhere better. It's like picking a rare, precious orchid out of a rainforest and then plonking it in a brown bottle of stale beer with cigarette butts floating in it. Faced with the idea of somehow corrupting Connor's innocent nature by taking him inside this place, Sebastian changes his mind about doing it but when he turns and sees the object of his niggling conscience, his decision starts to falter. Unlike him, Connor doesn't look as though he's having second thoughts at all. Indeed, the eighteen year old appears curious and eager to see what's behind the mysterious door and so Sebastian relents and places his hand on the brass knob.

"You sure you want to do this?" he asks Connor, giving the kid one last chance to back out.

"Yeah," Connor says impatiently, as if wondering why Sebastian is taking so long to open the damn door. "Are you?"

"Yeah, yeah. Of course I am," the dark-haired man rapidly reassures Connor before he gets the wrong impression. It's not that Sebastian suddenly finds Connor unattractive. Christ, no. It's just, for the first time this evening Sebastian is actually feeling nervous and it's all got to do with what's going to happen once they cross that threshold. He doesn't usually get the jitters before sex but here he is about to do it with the boy of his dreams – the one beautiful boy he's never been able to forget and has so dearly longed for - and he doesn't want anything to go wrong, not a single damn thing. Trying to conquer his nerves, the older male takes a fortifying breath, utters "Here we go," and then turns the doorhandle, entering into the unknown with Connor right behind him.

There are dark grey carpeted stairs leading upwards with a gleaming stainless steel hand rail. Surrounding Sebastian and Connor are walls painted in the same red as the door, only much less worn; in actual fact, they could have been painted yesterday. Stylish dimmed down-lights provide subtle, subdued illumination along the steep ascent. The two males climb the stairs, Sebastian first, and once at the top they find a modern reception desk with a flat-screen computer sitting on top of it. It is unmanned and they look around, seeing nothing but some striking spiky-leaved plants in tall black pots on the floor and framed paintings of geishas and Japanese symbols hanging on the walls. Soft music wafts out from hidden speakers and Sebastian thinks that the place is much less gaudy and tacky than he expected. It could be the foyer in a top-class hotel. A hallway runs off to their left and a row of doors can be seen down there but no people. Impatient for some service, Sebastian coughs pointedly and a friendly male voice comes out from under the desk.

"Just a second! I dropped my pen. Ah, here it is."

A bald head pops up with a cheery smile and soft brown eyes light upon Sebastian from behind wire-rimmed spectacles.

"Sorry about that. How can I help you tonight, sir?"

Sebastian can't answer; he's too busy gaping in outright horror at the person speaking to him. Well, it's not so much a person as a thing.

A demon.

It is wearing human clothing – collared shirt, paisley vest and tan pants – but it's all pink and hairless. The skin of its face sits in fleshy rolls and its ears are large and floppy. Almost hidden by folds of skin are its small round eyes. The nose is pug and the chin not double, but triple. It's not stinky or hideously frightening like the one that attacked them back in the alley but the motel clerk is nonetheless alarming to Sebastian who has only seen one other demon in his life and that was before when he almost got his throat slit by it.

"Sir?" The clerk prompts politely when Sebastian doesn't reply.

Using his elbow, Connor tries to poke his uncommunicative friend out of his stupor but all that's running through Sebastian's mind is, "DEMON! EVIL! RED ALERT! RED ALERT!"

Getting no response from the tall, curly-haired man in the coat standing there like some kind of mute mannequin, the demon focuses on the shorter male next to him. It adjusts the glasses perched on its upturned nose, squinting at Connor closely.

"And what can I do for…Oh my goodness!" Fear shows in the creature's eyes as it recognises the boy slayer from Qor'toth. "It's you! The Destroyer!"

"Aw, not again," Connor mutters long-sufferingly.

"Please don't kill me!" The demon hurriedly holds both chubby hands up, dropping the pen again in panicked haste, his ears flattening like a cringing dog. "Please. I've got a wife and five spawn who need me!"

"It's okay," Connor says, showing his own hands and the absence of weapons in them. "I'm not going to kill you."

"You're not?" Sebastian questions incredulously, speaking for the first time since he's walked in here.

Babbling with terror, the demon continues, "I-I've never hurt a human in all the years I've been on this dimension! I swear. I'm just trying to make a living and take care of my family like anyone else. I beg you, spare my life!"

"Get it," Sebastian urges, as if he's talking about a large cockroach. "Get it, Connor!"

"Be quiet," Connor scolds with a warning glance at Sebastian. "You're scaring him."

"I'M scaring it?" Sebastian repeats in disbelief but another threatening look from Connor shuts him up and he quickly steps backwards, letting the kid handle this situation.

"I'm not going to touch you," Connor reiterates calmly and slowly, trying to console this poor cowering creature who is all but blubbering in fright. "We just want a room. Okay?"

"A…a room?" The demon's voice is quivering as he repeats Connor's request.

"Yes. A room. With a bed. That's it."

Lowering his trembling hands, the clerk peers first at the notorious offspring of vampires and then his companion, the well-groomed male in the fine attire, who seems edgy and anxious, obviously a newbie to the world of demons. Then with different eyes he looks at Connor again; a young, feminine-featured boy accompanying an older, worldlier man – neither of whom appears in need of any sleep - and finally the clerk understands what's going on. This kind of situation he sees every night of the week and if he wasn't so busy fearing for his life he would have spotted it earlier.

"Ah. I see. Silly me." The demon smiles in shaky relief, his floppy ears lifting back up to a more relaxed position. "Well, if it's a room you're after, you've come to the right place. I have dozens of them. It's very quiet tonight."

Extending his hand to Sebastian, Connor prods, "Money?"

Before Sebastian can fetch his wallet, not that he's willing to, the clerk kindly waves away the offer. "No, no. It's on the house. Consider it an apology for my hasty misunderstanding. Now, which room would be suitable?" He reaches under his desk and brings out a large ring of shiny silver keys, flipping through them and rattling off names, back to business again now that he knows his head is not going to be cleanly dislodged from his shoulders.

"The French Boudoir, the Persian Palace, the Roman Room?" He stops and looks excitedly at Connor. "I know. Honeymoon Heaven."

"We're not, uh, married," Connor says hesitantly, glancing at Sebastian who has nothing helpful to say at the moment.

The clerk chuckles knowingly. "Of course not. But it will seem fitting. You haven't been together for a long time, am I right?"

Mystified and impressed, Connor frowns and replies, "How did you know?"

"It's my job to know these things." The clerk smiles secretively. "It's also my job to adhere to the highest standards of confidentiality so nobody will ever know you've been here, okay?" This he says directly to Sebastian, sensing the twenty six-year old's apprehension.

"Honeymoon Heaven is my most romantic room," he continues proudly, concentrating back on Connor who appears to be the one making all the decisions. "It has a heart shaped bed with rose petals on it and comes with complimentary champagne and chocolates. How does that sound? Would you like that one?"

"Okay," Connor agrees easily, already won over with the offer of a free room. He likes free stuff.

"Excellent." The delighted rumple-skinned clerk comes out from behind the desk, beginning to trot down the hallway in shiny shoes, his ears flapping. "If you'll both follow me."

Connor starts to but Sebastian grabs his sleeve, whispering in uneasiness, "What are you doing? It's a demon!"

"I can see that." Connor shoots Sebastian a patient look. "Now, c'mon," he encourages eagerly, taking the older man by the wrist and dragging him down the corridor. "We get chocolates!"

"No…I don't want to," Sebastian protests, resisting Connor's tugging like a child who's afraid of getting into the dentist's chair.

"Hey, coming to this motel? Your idea," Connor reminds him.

"Yeah, that was before I knew it was run by demons!" Sebastian hisses, trying to keep his voice down. "And hello? They hate your guts, Connor!"

"He doesn't want to hurt me," the auburn-haired boy states. "I can tell when they want to hurt me. And he doesn't. He's harmless."

"How do you know? How can you trust that…thing?" Sebastian jerks his thumb at the creature's back. "What if he calls all his demony buddies when we're in the room and they attack us while we're naked and defenceless with rose petals all over us?"

Connor lifts an amused eyebrow. "Who's the demon expert here? How many have you seen in your whole life?"

"Um…Two." The taller man squirms at the confronting question. "And… he's one of them."

"Exactly." Connor's tone is mildly chastising. "If you knew anything about demons, you'd know that this species is peaceful and non-violent. They don't even eat meat. They're vegetarians."

Sebastian scrunches his face up in surprise. "Really?"

"Not all demons are bad," the younger male says persuasively. "Just like humans are not all good. Once, I couldn't tell the difference. But now I can."

Connor's confidence starts to rub off on Sebastian and he spares a glance at the odd bespectacled individual scurrying up the corridor ahead of them, muttering to himself and sorting through the keys for the right one. Sebastian is beginning to think of the demon not as an "it" but "he", the way Connor does, like he's a person and not a creature. He may be one of the freakiest things Sebastian has ever seen but he grudgingly admits that the clerk DOES seem pretty harmless. There are no fangs or claws or even pointy horns. He's squashy and pudgy, kind of like a big roly-poly Shar-Pei puppy. Only with a chronic case of alopecia. Apart from the strangeness of his features and lack of any hair, he is dressed and mannered rather like a mild English librarian. Perhaps Sebastian should trust Connor's judgement. If the kid thought they were in any danger the demon would be bleeding on the floor already.

Sealing the deal, Connor leans in and murmurs, "Besides, if you don't come with me, Sebastian, you don't get laid."

"Damn you," the green-eyed male sighs, giving in and letting Connor lead him up the hallway to a white door where the clerk is putting a key into the lock. The lure of raunchy teenage sex is beginning to outweigh any misgivings Sebastian has about their choice of motels and his misgivings fade even more when the door is opened and the clerk ushers them in. Connor enters first, looking around wide-eyed with wonder at what's inside. Nervously stepping around the demon, Sebastian passes though the entranceway and he too gazes about with more than a small measure of astonishment. The first thing that strikes him is how huge the room is. The second? Heart shaped bed - not as cheesy as it sounds. It's big and soft with inviting plush pillows sitting against the bed head, which is also a heart shape and crafted from elaborate scrolls of white-washed iron. The filigree metalwork is interwoven with glossy leaves of ivy and tiny fairy lights that cast a magical glow on the damask-rose hue of the wall behind. The sheets and duvet cover are gleaming white satin and sprinkled over them are the promised rose petals, many different colours and freshly picked, going by the fragrance that sweetens the air.

Shimmering curtains hung from the ceiling fall softly around the sides of the bed, just brushing the carpet which is luxuriously thick and green, like grass. Glorious tropical flowers spill out of hanging baskets placed around the room, the curling tendrils almost reaching down to the floor, and Sebastian's jaw drops when he spots real, live butterflies flitting between the blooms, their wings iridescent and dazzling. One of them sails past a marble statue of a nude goddess in the corner and it's only then that Sebastian realises she's standing in a raised pond surrounded by waterlilies with goldfish swimming around her ankles. Water streams from an urn the statue is holding, pouring back into the pond with a soothing trickling sound. Two blue-green dragonflies sit serenely on a lily pad, almost unnoticeable except for the gossamer sheen of their wings. Just like Connor, Sebastian is looking everywhere at once, finding it difficult to take all these myriad breathtaking details in. His roving eye is drawn upwards to a magnificent three-tired chandelier dangling from the roof, comprised from glittering teardrops of crystal which reflect the radiance of candle-shaped globes burning on each branch. Billows of organza are draped over the dark blue ceiling like clouds and more fairy lights twinkle underneath the sheer fabric, reminiscent of fireflies in the night, or stars, the entire space creating the sense of stepping into an enchanted wonderland or mystical paradise. It really is heaven.

"You like?"

The voice snaps Sebastian out of his dreamy enthralment and he turns to face the clerk who is standing there with an inquiring look on his face, eager to please his customers.

"I…uh…wow," is all Sebastian can utter, so overwhelmed by the unexpected loveliness of this place.

"I'll take that as a positive indication," the clerk remarks with a smile that almost causes his small eyes to disappear behind rolls of skin. He turns to Connor who has managed to catch a butterfly in his hand and is cradling the delicate creature with an awed gentleness completely at odds with his violent, blood-thirsty reputation.

"And what about you, sir? Does it pass inspection?"

"It's amazing," Connor responds enthusiastically, watching in delight as the butterfly lifts off his palm and takes flight with a flutter of orange and black wings.

"Wonderful." The beaming clerk hands Connor the key. "Just drop it off at the desk when you leave. If there's anything else I can do for you, let me know. There's a phone by the bed and I'm happy to cater for any special requests."

"Okay. Thank you," Connor adds, sincerely appreciative of the generous gesture. He bets the clerk doesn't give this room to just anybody. It's spectacular.

"Oh, one last thing." The roly-poly demon pauses at the doorway and grimaces slightly, as if he doesn't want to have to ask this. "Please don't eat the fish."

Connor lifts his eyebrows. "People do that?"

"More than you'd think," the clerk returns with a sigh. "I don't put them there as snacks but certain individuals find them irresistible, unfortunately."

"Well, I don't like sushi," Connor announces, wrinkling his nose. "So, don't worry. They'll still be here."

"I'd appreciate that." The motel owner smiles good-naturedly. "Enjoy your night. Both of you." He directs the last part to a still-nervous Sebastian and then exits, closing the door after him, leaving the two males alone.

Like a bloodhound, Connor immediately sniffs out the promised chocolates, locating them on a gilded table beside the bed, next to the phone and bottle of champagne, which he ignores completely, dropping the key and tearing off the lid of the box to reveal rows of glossy brown treats nestled in gold foil wrappers. He pops one into his mouth, bites it in two and grins with glee when the pink jelly of a Turkish Delight oozes onto his tongue. With the unique perfumed flavour, it's like eating a chocolate-covered rose. He swallows and picks another, making short work of that one too.

"Mmm. These are good. This place is awesome," Connor declares as he licks his lips, looking around at the room some more. "Isn't it awesome?"

"It sure is," Sebastian has to agree, glancing up at the splendid chandelier, every polished piece of crystal catching and refracting the light, making it sparkle like diamonds and bouncing intricate patterns onto the walls. A bright blue butterfly lands on the chandelier as Sebastian watches and he slowly shakes his head in amazement. He's stayed in hotels all over the world before but has never been a room that comes complete with its own ecosystem.

A room like this should get one in the frame of mind for romance as it was intended but in spite of all its charm and prettiness Sebastian can't help eyeing off the door, as if expecting it to be forcefully opened by unwanted intruders any moment now. He feels somewhat like a hapless insect in a Venus flytrap, lured there by the saccharine scent and if he's not careful the jaws are going to snap shut on him.

"Give me that key," he impulsively tells Connor who passes it over with a curious expression, watching as Sebastian goes to the door and makes sure it's locked properly. Three times.

"What are you afraid of?"

Connor's inquisitive question makes Sebastian spin around. "What am I afraid of?" He gives a short bark of humourless laughter. "Gee, I dunno. Maybe getting killed? C'mon, Connor. I saw how that demon was looking at me back in the alley. He was gonna carve me up like a Sunday roast and eat me for dinner."

"That demon is dead. And the one out there at the front desk is a vegetarian. I already told you that."

"Yeah? What about his friends? I bet they don't all live off tofu and fucking rice cakes!"

Sebastian's smart-ass comeback is meant to cover up how scared he is but Connor can see it and he softens towards the other man.

"I know this is all new and scary for you but you don't have to worry, okay? I've been hunting and tracking demons ever since I could walk. I know them. And he's a good one. He's not going to double cross us." Connor goes up to Sebastian, laying a comforting hand on his forearm, looking up at him with clear, understanding blue eyes.

"You just have to trust me, Seb."

"Well, I guess I don't have any other choice," Sebastian grudgingly grants. "But what if another one – a not so good one - saw us coming in here? What if we were followed? Rumplestiltskin out there won't be able to stop them from busting our door down and trying to slaughter us like pigs."

"We weren't followed," Connor emphasizes. "Super-senses, remember?"

"But…"

"Hey." The eighteen year old interrupts Sebastian's objection, lifting his elegant fingers and touching the taller male's whiskery cheek, his voice protective. "I won't let anything happen to you. I swear. You're safe here with me."

Sighing, Sebastian leans into Connor's softly caressing hand. "I'm being a huge drama queen about this, aren't I?"

Smiling, Connor replies, "A little. But it's okay. You're only human."

"Christ." The twenty six-year old snorts. "I find out you're half demon, one of them tries to kill me and another one gives us a free honeymoon suite. This night is even more fucked up than last time."

"I don't know about that," Connor says, gazing down the entire length of Sebastian's lean body and back again. "If you ask me, it's not fucked up enough."

Hearing Connor swear again does instantaneous things to Sebastian's private parts and he gulps as something hungry and dark rises in the younger one's eyes, his intentions quite clear. When they did this a year ago, Sebastian had to guide him through the whole event because Connor was so inexperienced. Sebastian had to do everything, had to tell him where and how to do certain things, practically leading him by the hand like some…well…virgin. Not tonight, though. Tonight Connor wants to be in charge.

"Well, we finally have a room." He looks expectantly at Sebastian. "What are we gonna do now?"

"I…" Normally the seductive one, Sebastian flounders at Connor's taunting query. He isn't sure if he can do anything knowing that a demon, albeit a harmless one, is lurking just down the corridor. Too much shit has happened tonight and he's still shaken up over it.

"Have you forgotten what you said to me before...what you wanted done to you?" Connor's tone is loaded with wicked provocativeness. "How about we just do that?"

Sebastian finds all his concerns about demons disappearing when Connor gives him a quick shove in the chest with an open palm, sending him flying into the heart-shaped bed. Flat on his back, Sebastian gasps for air, all the breath knocked out him, but he doesn't have time to react before Connor jumps onto him, taking his mouth and kissing him demandingly, the boy's mouth sweet with chocolate and the essence of roses. Thousands of Sebastian's nerve endings crackle into instant life when Connor mauls him like he did earlier in the alley, grabbing and squeezing any part of Sebastian he can reach – shoulders, arms, chest, waist – the demonic strength in Connor's small hands sure to leave a few bruises behind in the morning. Every bit of desire they felt before comes flooding back twofold and Sebastian gives a low, stifled moan as Connor sucks suggestively on his tongue, the kid's lengthy auburn locks falling around the sides of his face and blocking out the rest of the world. Sebastian buries his fingers into the richness of that hair, loving the silken, warm texture of it and the feel of Connor's body against his. The long-limbed teenager is light on top of him, weighing not much more than a girl of his age would, his jutting hipbone digging in almost painfully, but Sebastian relishes the thinness and angularity of Connor's figure as it perfectly compliments his own more solid build.

Shifting slightly, Connor moves over so that Sebastian's lower half is more available and he runs one hand along the older man's flat stomach, down to the waist of his pants, popping the button there. Going out of his mind already, Sebastian dizzily tips his head back onto the mattress and Connor seizes the tanned arch of his neck, nipping at the skin with tiny teeth and mouthing the prominent bump of Sebastian's Adam's apple, the deep rumbling of a groan vibrating under Connor's lips. He may not be a vampire but Connor can clearly hear the pounding of Sebastian's heart, can hear the rush of blood through the arteries in the first man's throat. It's the same way he senses other creatures in the pitch black of night – by listening for the sounds of their bodies and by detecting their scents. Sebastian's own personal scent is much stronger now; saltier and muskier, coloured by sexual craving and Connor breathes it in, almost getting high on it because he knows all that need is just for him. To have somebody wanting him that much…it's like a drug. Not that he's ever tried drugs, or wants to, but he imagines that this is what it feels like; giddy, invigorating and thoroughly addictive, making him bolder than he would normally be.

Wasting no more time, Connor swiftly opens the other man's black trousers. He discovers the elastic waist of boxer trunks and slides his hand under it, past a patch of coarse curls, finding the swollen male flesh he's after, wrapping his fingers tightly around that heavy thickness, heated blood thrumming through the veins there as well. At the highly intimate touch, Sebastian curses under his breath and feels his hips involuntarily lifting off the bed as Connor starts to tug on him, sliding the fine skin of his shaft over the hard tissue underneath, the exquisite friction nearly too much to take in his heightened state of excitement. Unable to help himself, Sebastian lifts his head and looks down to watch Connor stroking him, the sight making him even crazier with lust. The blue-eyed boy has got the longest, slenderest fingers Sebastian has ever seen. They're like artist's hands but the only creative thing Connor does with them is to paint the ground with demon blood. Those hands are capable of snapping bones and crushing vital organs but as he touches Sebastian he's firm yet careful, as if aware of his own power. Getting jerked off by the teenage vampire slayer is something Sebastian has dreamt about on many occasions but this is no dream. This is gloriously real and he groans, visibly shuddering at the erotic shocks caused by Connor's thumb rubbing over the weeping head of his masculinity.

Intrigued by Sebastian's lubricating liquid, Connor raises his hand and brings it up to his nose, smelling the faint aroma, before slowly licking the clear substance off the pad of his thumb, surprised by the tangy sweetness of it.

Witnessing Connor tasting what is essentially the closest thing to his cum, Sebastian's dick gives a lively twitch and he murmurs, "Oh, that is so fucking hot."

Wanting to make things even hotter, Connor flips Sebastian over to lay stomach-down on the mattress. At the vulnerable position he suddenly finds himself in, Sebastian's breath catches in his throat but he stays there with the side of his face pressed into the bedspread, letting Connor do whatever he wants. Kneeling beside the other man, Connor peels the long leather coat off him to reveal Sebastian's back and the white shirt pulling across his muscular shoulders. There is something dark under that shirt and, puzzled at the shadow, Connor lifts the light material up to see what it is. There on the tanned flesh on Sebastian's lower lumbar region, between two indents either side of his spine is a tattoo; some kind of decorative word, black and exotically curving in style.

"That's new," Connor comments in admiration, tracing the design with a fingertip.

"Huh?" His brain fuzzy with need, it takes a few moments for Sebastian to realise what Connor's talking about. "Oh, the tattoo. Yeah, I got it done six months ago."

"What is it?"

"It's Arabic. Stands for strength and beauty." Sebastian looks up at Connor with passion-filled eyes. "I was thinking of you when I got it."

The fact that someone would care enough to get ink permanently embedded in their skin in honour of him overwhelms Connor, trebling the desire he feels for this enigmatic twenty six-year old male model. With rough, impatient motions he grabs Sebastian's pants and boxers, yanking them down to mid-thigh and gazing thirstily at the bare, brown backside laid before him. It's tight and toned, the skin silky-smooth, not a tan line in sight. Walking the streets of L.A., Connor has seen many ladies of the night standing on corners selling their wares in miniscule outfits, butt-cheeks showing under the high legs of their hotpants and cracks peeping out of low-rise jeans. Naturally, he has glanced at what is so blatantly on display but he's never seen such a fine ass as this one. It's perfection. He glides his palms up the back of Sebastian's thighs, cupping the muscled flesh, discovering the firmness of it. He runs one finger down the alluring crevice in front of him, taking pleasure in Sebastian's soft inhaled breath and the way the first male opens his thighs wider, wordlessly telling Connor that he's doing exactly the right thing. There is a pause and Sebastian cranes his neck around in time to see Connor bending down, carefully spitting onto his tailbone, evidently remembering what Sebastian said to him in the alley about using it for lube. Saliva slides down the middle of his cleft and Sebastian shivers at the cool wetness, pressing his face back into the bed and halting his breathing in keyed-up anticipation.

Too turned on to feel shy about what he's doing, Connor slips his fingers into the valley of Sebastian's taut behind. He's never done this before, touched anyone here, not even the last time he was with Sebastian. The older man took his hand and showed him where men have sex with each other but Connor didn't really explore the area, like he's going to do now. Placing a hand on Sebastian's left buttock, Connor uses the other to spread his spit down to where it needs to go. He grazes Sebastian's secret opening and the first male hisses through his teeth, the sensitivity of the nerves back there magnified by his exceedingly aroused condition. Connor's fingertips circle that spot, tantalisingly going around and over the tightly closed entrance but never in and the eighteen year old watches with interest as his passive partner gets more and more frustrated, groaning and squirming beneath his tormenting touch, gripping the duvet cover with both fists.

"For Chrissakes, Connor," Sebastian sobs in desperation. "Please!"

For someone who doesn't know a lot about gay sex - or any kind of sex, really - Connor can't mistake what Sebastian is asking for and proceeds to grant his wish. The older man is expecting Connor to be tentative and take it slow, easing one finger in first but the teenager, knowing Sebastian has done this many times, decides to forgo gentleness and shoves three fingers in all at once.

"Jesus God!" Sebastian yelps, firecrackers snapping and popping up his spinal cord and into his brain. Being stretched apart so abruptly and forcefully burns a little but it brings him right to the brink of orgasm and he teeters there, gasping as Connor withdraws his slippery fingers and unabashedly thrusts them in again, the younger boy fascinated with the incredible hot slickness inside Sebastian's body. Doing this, and watching himself do it, Connor is almost at the pinnacle of climax too, his erect organ sitting flush and full on his lower abdomen, straining against his briefs.

"Give me your dick, baby," Sebastian whispers in urgency, needing to be penetrated deeper. "All of it. Make me come hard."

Aiming to drive him right past that point and beyond, Connor shifts and kneels between Sebastian's parted legs, pulling the older guy's pants down even further for easier access. Hurriedly unfastening his own jeans, Connor leans forward, spits on Sebastian's ass again just to be safe and guides his aching maleness down to that glistening cleft. When the tip of him pushes into Sebastian's inner warmth, Connor's mouth drops half-open with the unbelievable intensity of the sensation and he grabs his partner's chiselled hips with both hands, sinking his cock all the way into that enveloping tightness in one quick motion. Connor had fully intended to give Sebastian a good, thorough screwing just like he begged for but the feeling of being deep inside the other man is too much, too acute, too overpowering, especially when Sebastian clenches strongly around him, moaning, "Oh fuck, oh fuck," over and over again. It's like Connor's caught in the middle of a wet dream and can't wake up. Trying desperately to stop his impending ejaculation, he pulls out but it's too late and he makes a face halfway between ecstasy and dismay, spilling white fluid onto the permanent black ink of Sebastian's tattoo.

"Shit," he growls, annoyed and disappointed with himself with lasting all of three seconds. Hastily wiping down Sebastian's bespattered back with the corner of a sheet, he flops onto the bed and covers his face with his arm, groaning in humiliation.

"I'm sorry. That was terrible."

"Not so terrible from where I was laying."

Lifting his arm, Connor turns to peer doubtfully at Sebastian. "What? You mean you actually…?"

"Oh, yeah. I certainly did, honey." The brunette male rolls over to reveal a stained patch on the bedding beneath him. There is a single yellow rose petal stuck to his brown belly and he brushes it off, grinning at a stunned Connor. "Never underestimate the power of a quick fuck. That's why they named a cocktail after it."

Relieved that he wasn't the only one who'd blown his wad in record time, Connor returns, "There's a drink called that?"

"There's naughtier. Try and order Sex on the Beach with a Cock-sucking Cowboy and two Screaming Orgasms while keeping a straight face."

Connor stares at Sebastian, not quite sure if he's serious but then decides the second guy must be because admittedly, Connor knows zip about cocktails, dirty or otherwise. As stated before, he doesn't go to clubs to drink. In fact, he doesn't drink full-stop.

"Now we got that out of the way, can we go back to my place? You know, somewhere where there AREN'T any demons?" Sebastian gazes at Connor pleadingly. "I know you're used to them but, honestly, I've had enough for one night. If I see one more I think I'll have a goddamn nervous breakdown."

Wanting to keep his only friend in the world happy, Connor answers agreeably, "Okay. We can leave." He reaches out and picks up the rest of the chocolates, eyeing them off eagerly. "But I'm finishing these first."

As the kid proceeds to devour a 500 gram box of sweets all by himself, Sebastian guesses, "Being semi-supernatural, I bet you've never had a cavity in your life, have you?"

With an impish grin of small but flawless teeth, Connor declares, "Nope," and throws another Turkish Delight in his mouth.

PART FOUR.

After Connor happily demolishes the last of the free Turkish Delights, he and Sebastian slide off the satin sheets and adjust their clothing, occasionally waving away a curious butterfly or two from perching on their backs or getting caught in their hair. The sated couple admire the unparalleled luxury of their room one more time, smelling the opulent flowers and touching the shimmering curtains, gazing up at the crystal chandelier and the star-like fairy lights, and then they depart, leaving all the goldfish uneaten and swimming contentedly in the pond amongst the lily-pads. They shut the door and walk down the quiet hallway, back to reception where their roly-poly host is busily tapping away on the keyboard of his flat-screen computer, spectacles sitting precariously on his pug nose. As they approach, he glances up, not showing any surprise that Connor and his older partner are already finished.

Knowing how disturbed the demon makes Sebastian feel, Connor takes the key back up to the desk and thanks the clerk for his hospitality. The clerk gives a pleased response, smiling broadly when Connor tells him how delicious the chocolates were. While Connor and the demon chat and laugh like old buddies, Sebastian stands back awkwardly, hands in his jacket pockets, not meeting the clerk's eyes or offering his own appreciation for the use of the honeymoon suite even though he knows he really should. His mom raised him to be polite and respectful at all times and it sits uncomfortably with the twenty-six year old to deliberately ignore someone, even if it is a demon. It's just that he's never been in this kind of situation before - in the presence of creatures that are not human or vampires - and is not sure how to react. One part of him wants to slip out the door and hurry safely home; the other makes him feel shitty for being so ill-mannered and discourteous. But he can't force himself to do anything about it so he stares at the floor and waits for Connor to finish chatting. The teenager finally does, bidding a friendly goodbye to his new pal and then he and Sebastian head to the staircase leading down to the front entrance. One slim hand on the metal rail, Connor starts descending the grey carpeted steps, the lighting in the sloping ceiling shining on him and making his auburn hair glow with amber-hued accents. Sebastian follows but, feeling his sense of decency needling at him like a cactus spine in his foot, he suddenly stops and turns around.

"Connor, wait here."

Halting in his tracks, the younger boy looks up and asks, "What are you doing?"

"Something I should have done before." Sebastian begins climbing back up the stairs.

Eyes narrowing, Connor says distrustfully, "You're not going to hurt him, are you?"

"Of course not." Glancing over his shoulder, the dark-haired man gives Connor a reassuring smile. "I'm just gonna thank him. And say sorry for being a prick. Okay?"

Searching Sebastian's expression, Connor eventually seems satisfied that the other man is telling the truth and he relaxes, leaning back against the steel banister to wait, the red paint on the wall behind him nearly matching the colour of his lips.

"Okay. That's a good idea. He's really nice," Connor adds, making Sebastian feel even shittier and more determined to make up for his rudeness.

Reaching the top of the staircase, Sebastian takes a breath and walks straight up to the Shar-pei demon, looking him right in the eyes and extending his hand in a gesture of greeting.

"Hello. I'm Sebastian. What's your name?"

"Why, it's Emel," the clerk replies, accepting Sebastian's hand over the desk and shaking it in a gracious manner. "Nice to meet you, Sebastian."

"You too." The green-eyed male warmly squeezes the clerk's soft, pudgy hand before letting go, a contrite expression on his handsome face. "Listen, Emel. I want to apologise for how I've been acting. I'm such an asshole."

"It's fine," Emel says charitably. "Forget it."

"No, it was unacceptable for me to treat you that way," Sebastian persists. "And I'm truly sorry. I've just never…"

"Seen somebody like me before?" Emel concludes with a tolerant smile. "I could tell. But it's okay, really."

"Great. Thank you." Sebastian lets out a sigh of relief, running his fingers through the black curls of his hair. "I would have felt bad all week if I hadn't said something."

"Well, Sebastian, I'm glad you did." Emel leans closer, speaking to the tall human in a soft, conspiratorial voice. "You're very fond of him, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Sebastian answers quietly, not needing to ask who the clerk is referring to. "Pretty obvious, huh?"

"You're a good match," Emel states, nodding in approval, his Cocker Spaniel ears flopping around the sides of chubby cheeks. "I get all kinds of couples visiting this establishment of mine and I can tell straight away who's compatible and who isn't. But you are perfect for your little friend."

"Hey!" Connor's irked voice pipes up from halfway down the stairwell. "Not that little!"

At the clerk's startled expression, Sebastian grins and explains, "Super-hearing. Along with super-everything else. He doesn't miss much."

"I'll go wait outside until you're done talking about me," Connor calls out in annoyance, stomping down the rest of the steps and wrenching the front door open. He sounds pissed but he's secretly pleased that Emel thinks he and Seb are a good match. Because Connor thinks so too.

With the teenage boy out of earshot, Emel continues his perceptive dissecting of Sebastian and Connor's relationship.

"He's a fiery one. Has a short leash and a mind of his own. Stubborn, too." The clerk looks shrewdly at Sebastian with those tiny brown orbs. "You will have to exercise a lot of patience with him."

"I already figured that out," Sebastian answers wryly. "I can deal."

"It will be worth the effort," Emel assures him. "That boy is growing into a fine young man. He has already changed so much from before, when you didn't know him, when he was new to this world and full of hate and violence. He has even changed since you saw him last, a year ago, when he naively thought you were a woman."

Sebastian furrows his brow. "How do you know all this stuff? Did he tell you about us?"

"He didn't have to. I could see it in his eyes." The clerk gazes evenly at Sebastian through his round glasses. "And in yours, Mr Christensen."

The hairs on his arms standing up, Sebastian realises he never told Emel his last name. Yet he knows. He knows an awful lot for someone Sebastian has never met before in his life. The twenty-six year old feels like he's getting his palm read or his tarot cards analysed. Without being asked first. It appears that the race of demons Emel belongs to aren't just vegetarians, they're psychic as well. The idea of somebody knowing every little thing about him is creepy as hell but Sebastian tamps down the urge to run away like a girl and bravely sticks around, wanting to hear what else Emel can tell him about his future with Connor. If there is one.

"Oh, there very well could be," Emel reinforces, reading Sebastian's thoughts. "But you'll have to work hard to keep him. He has been hurt many times and is scared of it happening again."

"I would never hurt him," Sebastian swears fervently, leaning forward onto the desk. "Never."

"I know that. But he doesn't. He has suffered greatly in the past and this has damaged his trust. Just when you think you have won him over, he will try to push you away." Emel grasps Sebastian's forearm in warning. "Don't let him. He needs you. You can help him heal. You can help him love."

"Love?" Sebastian whispers hopefully.

Winking, Emel returns, "Ah, you'll find out for yourself soon enough."

Needing to know right now, Sebastian presses, "Is he going to be with me? For good, I mean. Or is he going to leave the next morning and never come back, like last time?"

Mysteriously, Emel replies, "When I look at people I see what was then, what is now and what could be. You could have an exciting future with Connor as your lifelong romantic partner but it all depends on the choices and the actions that you both make once you leave here. You could be together or you could not. It's up to you. And him. I am just revealing the possibilities."

Attempting to process this profound and mystifying prediction, Sebastian stares down at his hands which are clutched on the edge on the desk. This affair with him and Connor…it could go either way. Connor could return his affection and fall just as deeply for him, which would make Sebastian the happiest damn man alive, or the kid could slink silently into the night and disappear forever which will result in Sebastian lapsing into a desolate depression from which there will be no return. Seeing Connor tonight has made him realise just how strong his feelings are towards the eighteen year old half-breed. It's insane because this is only their second meeting but Sebastian knows his own heart and what it wants more than anything is standing outside on the street, waiting for him. Nobody he's ever met before or since that fateful night twelve months ago has elicited such a longing in his core, such a hungering, incurable need to have and to hold and never let go. Nobody else has ever haunted his thoughts like Connor has, both during the day and when he's asleep. The dreams he's had…God, they've tortured him. Most mornings he'd wake up with Connor's name on his lips, still smelling the scent of his hair, wanting so badly to have that boy in his arms, and in his bed. Now that Sebastian has actually touched him, felt Connor's body with his own two hands, real and warm and breathing, it's like a fantasy come to life. To never see him again…to never caress his soft skin or kiss his sweet lips… Sebastian almost can't bear to think about that happening.

"But if you want my honest opinion," Emel intercedes, jolting Sebastian out of his brooding meditation, "I don't think it was mere coincidence that you were both in the same place at the same time tonight. Perhaps the Powers That Be nudged you in each other's direction. And if they did that, it's for a very good reason."

The confident guess lifts Sebastian's spirits and he looks up at the clerk with renewed optimism in his face.

"You think so? You think we're meant to be together?"

"I think that opposites attract." Emel's eyes twinkle within thick rolls of pink skin. "Can't get any more opposite than the pair of you."

Trying not to grin too widely, Sebastian motions towards to the staircase. "I should go. Connor's probably getting impatient. Thank you for the room and everything, Emel. You've been amazing," he finishes in gratitude.

"You're most welcome." Emel smiles, patting Sebastian's hand. "Feel free to drop by anytime."

"I might just do that," Sebastian replies as he makes his exit, quite comfortable with coming back now that he knows the clerk isn't a murderous human-hater like a certain other demon whose headless corpse is probably still smoking and sizzling back in that alley like an overcooked leg of lamb.

"But we'll pay next time, all right?"

"Deal. Oh, and Sebastian?"

The green-eyed man halts at the top of the steps. "Yeah?"

"Your father really was proud of you in the end. He just couldn't tell you that. And he's sorry."

Those gentle words hit Sebastian right in the solar plexus and he feels his face going white.

His father is dead.

They had a falling out and never made amends. There's no way Emel could have known about their rift unless he had some serious supernatural demon vibes going on and the fact that he does scares the shit out of Sebastian. Visibly shaken, he turns away and stumbles down the stairs, glancing back once at the odd, hairless clerk in shocked disbelief but he is working on his computer again, the crystal ball session apparently over. Taking a few calming breaths, Sebastian gathers his composure and reaches for the knob on the front door.

Outside, Connor is slumped against the brick wall, arms crossed over his chest. He looks like he's almost sulking. "Have a nice chat about me?"

"We did actually," Sebastian tosses back in forced light-heartedness, ruffling Connor's hair. "He told me what a little firebrand you are. But I already knew that."

Fixing his red-brown locks with both hands, the eighteen year old gripes, "I hate it when people say I'm little."

Looking down on his shorter companion, Sebastian says sympathetically, "Not that it's a bad thing, sweetie, but you are."

Throwing Sebastian a hot glare, Connor retorts, "Yeah, well you might be bigger than me but I can bench press, like, a car."

"I'm sure you can," the second man replies distractedly, pulling his phone out and switching it on again to call a cab. When the operator answers, he gives his name and the pick-up address. He really doesn't fancy walking all the way back to his house in the dark, especially with unsteady legs. He just wants to go home; where there are no nasty shocks and the most dangerous thing around is the sharp corner of his coffee table.

While they're waiting for the ride to arrive, Sebastian decides to bring up the spooky subject of the mystic motel owner.

"Connor, back when you were talking to Emel, did he say anything…unusual…to you?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno." The brunette shrugs uneasily. "Like about things that might happen. Or about stuff that he had no way of knowing."

"Oh, that." Connor appears unconcerned. "Yeah, he's telepathic."

"You…you knew?" Sebastian almost wants to throttle the kid for his casualness.

"A lot of demons have that ability. But he didn't tell me much; just that I'll get a visitor tomorrow. And resolve some past issues." The boy makes a musing face. "I think he's talking about Angel. Nobody else ever visits me."

Intrigued, he looks at Sebastian. "Why, what did he say to you?"

Not wanting to jinx the future, Sebastian declines bringing up the uncertain state of their relationship together, and instead reluctantly reveals, "If you must know, he gave me a message from beyond the grave. From a late relative of mine."

Arching a brow, Connor replies, "Whoa. That'd have to freak you out."

"It did." The black-clad man scowls. "And by the way, couldn't you have mentioned the mind-reading thing beforehand so I wasn't taken completely by utter surprise when he did it to me?"

"Sorry. Didn't think it was important."

"Of course you wouldn't," Sebastian mutters. "I'm just a dumb human, aren't I?"

"Hey, I'm sorry," Connor says again, this time sounding more remorseful. "I'm used to demons and all their weirdness. Sometimes, I forget other people aren't."

"I don't know if I'll ever get used to it," the older one admits, sitting heavily down on the front step of the tattoo parlour and hiding his trembling hands in his pockets. He stares straight ahead, thinking about what Emel told him and he shivers, even though he's wearing a full-length coat and the night is not cold.

Sensing the troubled nature of Sebastian's thoughts, Connor plonks down beside him on the concrete step, gazing at the male model in the streetlight, reading his body language like a book. For someone so merry and happy-go-lucky, Sebastian looks shaky and dazed, like he's just been slapped in the face. Connor doesn't like seeing him this way and feels partially responsible for what happened back there in the office. Like Sebastian said, he should have given a warning about Emel's extra-sensory capability. He's not sure which dead family member contacted Sebastian through the clairvoyant clerk or what they said, but it obviously rattled the second guy to the bone. Knowing that it's none of his business, Connor doesn't ask about it, however, he wants to show Sebastian that he cares and that he's here if the other man wants to talk so he scoots closer to his upset friend, their thighs touching. Still caught up in his pensive ponderings, Sebastian doesn't alter his pose; acting as though Connor isn't there, which worries the younger boy somewhat.

"You okay, Seb?" he asks with a frown. Sebastian half shrugs, half shakes his head. The non-committal response deepens Connor's apprehension and he hesitates for a few seconds before slowly slipping his hand into Sebastian's coat pocket. He finds the taller man's clenched fist, feeling the trembles that Sebastian was trying not to show. Connor gently uncurls Sebastian's fingers and links them together with his own. The unexpected caring gesture finally makes Sebastian turn and for the first time he sees the anxiety in Connor's wide blue eyes.

"It's all right, munchkin. I'm okay," Sebastian tells him, the shaking in his hand subsiding with the support of Connor's long, steady fingers around his. "Just been one hell of a night, that's all."

"It's my fault," the teenager states with a mixture of guilt and self-disgust. "If I hadn't been here none of this would have happened."

"It's not your fault, honey. You can't control what a few demons do or say," Sebastian replies, caressing the back of Connor's thumb. "Besides, I chose to hang out with you instead of go to that bar. I wouldn't go back and change that even if I could."

"You sure?" Connor looks at him uncertainly, thinking that this is probably the worst date the other guy's ever been on. "Because I can still leave if you want me to."

"Shut up, idiot," Sebastian chastises affectionately, leaning over to peck Connor on the cheek. "I want you to be here. And I want you to come home with me. In fact, I want you to stay the whole damn night. In my bed, on my couch, or on my floor. Either way, you're not leaving until I let you. Got it?"

In spite of his concerns, Connor smiles, letting his amorous partner push his hair aside and nibble his ear. "Yeah. Not leaving. I got it."

A yellow car shows up soon and the besotted couple get into the back of it, making out the whole way, not giving a flying slut what the taxi driver may think, simply unable to keep their hands off each other. Or their mouths. It's been years since Sebastian was at high school and Connor never even went, regardless of what his senior certificate says, but the two of them carry on like a pair of kids on their way home after the prom. Sebastian quickly shoves the ghostly message to the back of his mind and concentrates on his hot little toy-boy, kissing him and whispering all the things he wants to do seductively in Connor's ear, wanting to make him forget about being a demon magnet and imagine what fun they are going to have when they get back to Sebastian's and have the whole place to themselves.

Sebastian's ardent attentions are definitely working and Connor's not focused on anything but how exciting this is, having a sensual older man want him and swear to make him feel like he's never felt before. He's been promised pleasures such as this in the past, been promised rewards, but they were never given to him and he was left unfulfilled and fuming. Connor knows he won't face that disillusionment tonight because Sebastian will not leave him with his engine running and stuck in park. The dude follows through with what he says and best of all, he does it because he wishes to, not out of some sense of duty or because he feels sorry for poor lonesome Connor who never had a proper childhood. Sebastian actually desires him for who he is, even fully aware of the vampire DNA in his blood, and the eighteen year old finds that knowledge exceptionally thrilling.

Back when he was chatting with the motel clerk, Connor didn't just get told about the unexpected visitor he's getting tomorrow night. Emel also said that Connor was going to have an evening to remember, something really special, and he should enjoy every moment of it. Like Lorne, Emel is an empath demon and Connor totally believes him and what he said. The night's not even halfway over yet but he's already having the time of his young life.

The taxi drops him and Sebastian off in front of a house; nice and spacious, but not a huge Hollywood mansion like Connor was anticipating. It's a rendered brick place, painted sandy-yellow with black trims, terracotta roof tiles, archways along the front, very Mediterranean in style. The garden consists of easy-care cactus plants and fleshy succulents interspersed with decorative rocks. In-ground solar lights are placed along a concrete driveway that leads up to a roller-door garage. There's no front door.

"Door's around the side," Sebastian explains. "I always go in through here." He brings a remote control out of his coat and upon pressing a button the roller-door whirs and slides up. Entering the garage, Connor is expecting to see some cool automobile, like a Porsche or a Trans-am but all that's in there are motorcycles, several in various stages of assembly and repair. Some are classic 70's and 80's models but there are a couple of modern Japanese road bikes, one in particular a striking electric blue. It looks new and sleek, with shiny silver wheel rims and is parked on its stand over a square of carpet to stop oil drips on the floor, which is littered with spare parts.

"I like this one," Connor says, admiring the blue bike. "Don't you have any cars?"

Making a face of distaste, Sebastian answers, "I hate cars. They make me feel boxed in."

"Me too," the younger one agrees. "And they're hard to park."

The green-eyed man lifts his eyebrows. "You can drive?"

Shrugging, Connor replies, "When I was living with the normals, they sometimes used to let me borrow the family car, take Tracey to the movies or whatever."

"Tracey?"

"My girlfriend. Fake girlfriend," Connor adds.

Even though he knows it's ludicrous, Sebastian feels insanely jealous at the idea of Connor having a past relationship, fake or not.

The boy tilts his head to the side, remembering those times behind the wheel. "It's funny. I can recall taking lessons and even passing the driving test but none of it really happened. It's just a false memory that was downloaded into my brain. Like something out of the Matrix."

"So, you never actually passed the test but you have a driver's license?"

"Yeah, but I don't ever use it. Not that I have a car anyway. Or want one." Connor shakes his head dismissively. "With the way traffic is here, it's quicker to get around on foot. Although, occasionally I'll catch a bus."

Sebastian stares at Connor, trying to imagine him sitting in a lumbering public transport vehicle next to some creep with bad breath who talks too much and can only see the teenager getting pissed and punching the guy straight in the face, sending him crashing through the window onto the road below.

"I don't get IN the bus. I mean, I literally catch it as it goes past," Connor elaborates. "You get a great view of the city from on top of it."

Still staring at Connor, this time Sebastian visualises him calmly balanced on the roof of a moving vehicle, eagle-eyes sweeping the surrounds for night crawlers, bus-surfing through L.A like it's a regular way to travel.

"Connor, you're one weird, crazy kid," the older male comments with a disbelieving grin. "But that's exactly what I like about you. Not a dull moment."

"You say that now," Connor scoffs. "After you've been attacked for the fortieth time, the novelty kind of wears off."

"Jesus, don't talk about things attacking me." Sebastian flinches, recalling how close he came to getting gutted with a knife. "C'mon, let's go inside. I dunno about you but I need a fucking drink."

Connor is led around the engines, mufflers and other mechanical bits and pieces that have to be dodged on the floor in order to reach the entrance to the house. Opening a door, Sebastian ushers his guest into a tiled hallway where there are motorcycle jackets and helmets hanging from hooks in the wall and a shoe rack on the floor. Connor takes one look at the pale carpet in the room ahead of him and kicks off his grubby sneakers because he has no money to pay for steam cleaning. Sebastian removes his biker boots and leather coat, leaving them in their rightful places, leading the way into his living area.

The room is large and painted a stylish grape colour, the furnishings dark brown and leather by the smell of it, the floor covering the colour of fresh cream. It's thick and soft underfoot; almost a shagpile and Connor can see himself spread out on it in front of the enormous plasma television that's against one wall. There are racks of CDs and DVDs either side of the large screen - many of them vampire movies, Connor notes - and a surround sound system and stereo are located underneath in a cabinet, along with a DVD player and game console, all of it expensive looking. There is a polished black bass guitar resting in a stand next to an amplifier. Exotic knick-knacks are scattered around the place; Australian boomerangs, Chinese statues, Japanese fans and Venetian costume masks - souvenirs from Sebastian's world travels. One end of the room has a wooden bar with half a surfboard mounted on it; wine goblets, champagne flutes and cocktail glasses hanging upside down above head-height. A neon light forming a palm tree with the words "BAR OPEN" sits on the long polished bench along with coasters, a small container of toothpicks and bright plastic stirrers in the shape of flamingos, dolphins and other animals. Four high stools are lined up in front, ready for guests to place their orders.

Behind the bar is a small refrigerator and shelves with many different bottles of alcohol on them, most of the labels completely unknown to Connor. Numerous scents swarm his senses with each breath he takes, some instantly recognizable, like the sourness of whiskey or freshness of mint, while others are sweet and strange. There is amber coloured liquor, clear, brown, green and brilliant blue. Some of it is transparent, the light shining through the glass, and some consists of thicker, creamier substances in candy-hues such as yellow, orange, pink and purple, the vivid display almost tempting to non-drinker Connor, who can't help wondering what each bottle tastes like. Some of it actually smells nice, like strawberry, banana and melon. But he and alcoholic substances have never been friends nor are they likely to ever be. Never mind that the taste makes him ill; he's seen first hand what drinking does to people, to their jobs, their health. Their families. It ruins lives and for that alone, he prefers to stay away from it.

He turns around to see Sebastian lowering the lighting and switching on the stereo. Lenny Kravitz's soulful voice fills the room.

"Mood music," Sebastian says cheekily. Not that they need it. He doesn't know about Connor but he's already in the mood for more loving. The encounter they had before in the motel room was mega-intense but far too fleeting to keep him contented. And the groping in the cab only increased his lustful urges. However, he best not jump Connor straight away or the kid might think all Sebastian wants is his body. The auburn-haired boy is walking around, interestedly checking out the area, touching things with his elegantly shaped hands and in spite of his mature restraint, Sebastian lets his eye rove over that body; that incredibly sexy, slim figure which can hardly be distinguished under those loose-fitting clothes. With a sly smirk, the more experienced male aims to resolve that problem within the next half hour.

Connor is gazing at a collection of pictures hanging on the wall, coloured and black and white shots in silver frames. In them, Sebastian is with people Connor doesn't recognise, arms around each other, all looking happy and like they're having a great time. He touches a photo of a very young and fresh-faced Sebastian, about fourteen, fifteen, tall for his age and leaning his head lovingly on the shoulder of an older woman. She has Sebastian's eyes and dark curly hair, only longer, cascading down to her waist. She's stunning, like him, and they're both beaming, the love between them clear for the entire world to see. Looking at the two of them, Connor feels wistful and slightly jealous. He doesn't have pictures like this, of his friends and family, because he doesn't really have any. He doesn't even have a picture of Angel. That's probably a good thing because Connor would only end up using it for target practice when he's in a bad temper.

Connor senses Sebastian coming up behind him, his pores responding to the other man's presence like a wave of energy upon his skin.

"That's my mom."

"I can tell," the teen answers softly. "She's beautiful."

"Isn't she?" Sebastian gives a fond smile. "I'd love for you to meet her one day."

Connor glances at him. "Really?"

"Yeah." Curving an arm around Connor's tiny waist, Sebastian lays a kiss on the top of his head. "I bet she adores you just as much as I do."

Warmth floods through Connor at those words. Sebastian always knows the right thing to say to take away the isolating feeling of being different and alone. Starting to feel very much at home here in this room, in this house, Connor leans back, relaxing against the taller man.

"So, who's that?" The boy motions to a picture of a cute Chinese girl holding a fluffy cat.

"That's my younger sister, Kailee. After my parents got divorced, my mom decided she wanted a daughter so she went ahead and adopted one," Sebastian explains. "She was nine when we got her and from the moment I first saw her little round face I loved her to death. Still do. She's actually due to have a baby any day now, her and her husband. Can you believe it? I'm gonna be Uncle Seb!"

Hearing the pride and excitement in Sebastian's voice, Connor smiles sadly. "You're lucky. To have family."

Picking up on Connor's sorrow that he never had a sister to tease or a brother to beat up, or even a mother to fuss over him, the second man returns quietly, "I know. Very lucky."

"What about your dad?" Connor looks for pictures but can't find any.

"He's not around anymore," Sebastian says shortly, keen to avoid the topic. "We weren't close."

"Fathers. You don't have to tell me how much they suck," Connor remarks ironically. Shifting away from the subject he knows only too well about, the eighteen year old points to a photo of Sebastian with another guy; both of them sitting on motorcycles, somewhere in the desert, set against a backdrop of massive red rocks. They're both giving the thumbs-up sign. The other guy is handsome, sandy-haired, goatee beard. He looks like a model too.

"And that guy?"

"That's Oliver," Sebastian replies with obvious affection in his tone. "We went to Australia two years ago and cruised around it on bikes. It was unreal, even though the flies nearly ate us alive."

"Was he your boyfriend?" Connor enquires, attempting not to appear envious.

Laughing, Sebastian returns, "God, no! He's my best mate. And straight as a ruler, mind you. Don't worry, muffin. Ain't no way he's interested in my gay ass." He winks at Connor. "Anyway, he knows all about my gigantic crush on you."

Instead of being flattered, Connor stiffens. "You've told him about me?"

"Well, not that you ram pointy sticks in undead creatures every night," Sebastian concedes. "I told him you saved me from a mugging. But yeah, he knows I like this cute, kick-ass teenager with gorgeous red hair. He has to tell me to shut up about you sometimes, especially when I keep going on about how your eyes are the bluest I've ever seen in my life."

Sebastian's complimentary teasing has the desired effect and Connor starts to smile, liking what he's hearing.

"I talked about you so much, Oliver said to me that I should stop moping and go find you." The bigger male presses his lips gratefully to Connor's temple. "But you found me instead, cupcake. And now that I have you, I'm not letting you out of my sight."

With romance on his mind, Sebastian moves his younger partner's long auburn mane aside, intending to kiss him on the side of the neck and it's then that he sees that the knife cut given by the coal demon is no more than a dark pink line on Connor's alabaster skin. Gazing closely at the wound, Sebastian reckons it looks days old, not mere hours. It's not bleeding and the edges of it have knitted together, the flesh closed up almost completely.

"That cut is nearly gone," he exclaims in wonder. Connor just makes a sound of acceptance, like this is something he experiences regularly.

"If you're like, indestructible, then why do you have this?" Sebastian motions to a small circular scar under Connor's right eyebrow, something he's only noticed tonight. "Why didn't that heal?"

Connor's fingers go up to the mark, absently tracing it as he remembers the past.

"It happened on Qor'toth. When I was four. I was exploring the Darkened Forest, by myself, and came across a spiny Toad-eater. Tried to catch it. Got a barbed quill stuck in the bone of my eye socket."

Seb winces. "Ouch."

"Yeah. Swelled up so badly I could hardly see. I nearly got lost. When I finally came running back to the cave my father…" Connor stops himself and looks down, embarrassed at his accidental slip. "I mean, Holtz. His name was Daniel Holtz."

The boy is silent for a moment, contemplative, as if he misses the man who raised him but then shakes his head and continues.

"I thought he was gonna yell at me for wandering off alone but he didn't. He just pulled the quill out. Told me how brave I was for not crying." He gives a shrug. "I don't know why it never healed up properly. Maybe I wasn't as strong then as I am now."

"Poor baby," Sebastian murmurs, tenderly kissing the scar, like something a mother would do, the soothing gesture making Connor even more wistful for all the things he never got to have in his growing years. All those childhood experiences other people take for granted and have probably forgotten. First day of school. Peanut butter sandwiches for lunch. Bandaids on grazed knees. Playing with other kids. Helping mom bake cookies. A pet dog. Toys. Cartoons on TV before dinner. Being tucked into bed at night. Having stories read to him.

Such simple things… Yet if he'd had them, he wouldn't have turned out the way he did.

Knowing what the kid is thinking, Sebastian decides to get those much-needed drinks before Connor's melancholy settles in and spoils the night. Going to the fridge behind the bar, he prompts, "Want a beer?"

"Beer tastes as cruddy as it smells." Connor appears unimpressed. "Tried it once. Made me puke."

As he would like to be kissed tonight, Sebastian quickly puts back the bottle of ale he was going to drink himself and instead cracks open some alcoholic apple cider, taking a deep swig of the tart, refreshing liquid before wiping his mouth with his sleeve and asking, "All right, what else? Name your choice. I got a fully stocked bar."

"I don't drink. I don't like alcohol."

"You just haven't tried the right stuff," Sebastian persists. His face lights up as he gets an idea. "I know. How about I whip you up a Mudsludge? With your sweet tooth, you should definitely like one of those."

Connor does that intent puzzled look, head slightly cocked. "What is it?"

"It's a cocktail I invented. Just like a chocolate milkshake. Only better." Sebastian grins persuasively. "What do you say, huh? Game?"

"Okay…I guess," Connor replies sceptically, taking a seat in one of the stools and watching as the more knowledgeable male bustles around getting together a silver cocktail shaker, a spirit measure and a large hurricane glass. Sebastian produces some crushed ice out of the freezer compartment of the bar fridge and then selects a bottle of clear liquid off the shelf, labelled with a Russian-sounding name. Vodka. Two shots are measured out and tipped into the shaker, over ice. Vodka is widely known to be odourless and flavourless, so it shouldn't upset Connor's delicately attuned sense of taste or smell. He'll still be able to notice the warmth of it sliding down his throat but it will be overshadowed by the sweetness of crème de cacao and the smoothness of milk, both of which Sebastian adds to the alcohol in the bottom of the stainless steel shaker along with a dash of vanilla essence, a squirt of chocolate syrup and a good glop of fresh cream. The lid is put onto the container and then shaken vigorously until frost starts to form on the outside shell of it. With a practised hand, the twenty six-year old swirls more chocolate syrup around the inside of the hurricane glass - both for decoration and a richer taste - before straining the thick, frothy mixture into it and dusting the top with cocoa powder.

"Try this and tell me you don't like it," Sebastian dares, dropping a curly straw into the glass and passing it over to Connor, who has been observing the mixing process with curiosity. The teenage boy sniffs the drink. It smells appetising so he takes a tentative sip.

"Nice," he utters, sounding surprised and pleased, unable to even taste the vodka, though he knows it's in there.

"Told you so," Sebastian states smugly, leaning on the bar and taking another chug of his adult apple juice. Clearly not one for following the rules of polite drinking, Connor pulls the fancy straw out, tips the flared glass up to his lips and gulps down the whole lot without stopping for a breath. After fighting the demon earlier, he hadn't realised how thirsty he was and this creamy concoction soothes his dry throat quite agreeably. Licking his lips and relishing the chocolaty flavour left in his mouth, Connor feels the alcohol heating the inside of his stomach but it's a pleasant sensation; the first time he's been able to keep it down without getting sick. Almost instantly, the vodka seeps into his blood and goes to his head, making him giddily happy; all his troubles seeming insignificant and not worth worrying over. Tonight is all about having a good time, about enjoying the company of someone else, about doing things normal people do on a Friday night. Sometimes all he wants is just to be normal and not some half-vampiric, half-demonic freak so hey, if a drink helps him to feel like that then it can't be all bad.

"Can I have another one?"

"Sure can, sparky," Sebastian replies with a grin at Connor's childlike eagerness. The younger one leans forward to hand his empty glass over for a refill. And then, without warning, he slides off his stool, disappearing behind the front of the bar with a thump. Alarmed, Sebastian hurries around, finding Connor sitting on his rear end with a comically bewildered look on his face. Helping the boy up from the shaggy carpet, the taller man queries, "You okay? What happened?"

"I don't know." Connor looks around himself in confusion. "I must have slipped."

Sebastian frowns at Connor. The kid is like a frickin' panther. He has suburb balance. He doesn't slip.

Staring up at Sebastian's concerned gaze, Connor blurts out, "Your eyes are like Gummi Bears."

Still frowning, the other man repeats, "Gummi Bears?"

"Same green." Connor smiles crookedly. "Pretty."

"You're drunk," Sebastian exclaims in disbelief. "Jesus! I didn't make it that strong."

"I'm not drunk," Connor objects in a decidedly slurred voice, struggling to even stand up straight.

"I know drunk when I see it. And from one cocktail?" The sober man slowly shakes his head in shock. "My god. You really aren't human, are you?"

"I'm still half," Connor retorts, offended. "At least I don't have a tail." Suddenly appearing anxious, he grabs at his butt. "Do I?"

"No, sweetness. You don't." Smiling gently at his inebriated guest, Sebastian assures, "I should know. I've seen you naked."

Connor glances up coyly through his girlish eyelashes, suddenly horny. "Do you wanna see me naked again?"

"Oh, boy," Sebastian sighs regretfully, combing a hand through his shoulder-length ebony curls. "I do but… I shouldn't take advantage of you like this."

A smirk skews Connor's full lips. "Yes, you should."

"But you're not yourself right now. You don't even know what you're doing," the older man dissuades.

"I know exactly what I'm doing. It's called hitting on you. With no actual hitting," Connor purrs, moving closer and running his fingers insinuatingly up Sebastian's arm. "Except for maybe my hips into yours."

Sebastian groans inwardly, the redhead's touch searing his skin, even through the sleeve of his shirt. God help him, he knows this is wrong but damn - drunk, slutty Connor is hot. However, he'll hate himself in the morning if he gives into his lust. Connor would probably hate him too, especially if he can't remember what happened or what Sebastian did to him while he was under the influence. Before he can get himself into serious trouble, Sebastian steps back, away from the scorching flames in Connor's eyes.

"Don't, darlin'. I don't want to do anything with you unless you're fully aware of what's going on."

"I'm aware." The eighteen year old stares at him deliberately. "I'm aware that your pulse is faster. That your body's warming up. That your breathing is shallower. I'm aware of a lot of things."

"Except for the fact that you're smashed on two shots of vodka," Sebastian mutters.

"Vodka's got nothing to do with it. We'd be doing this anyway. You've said like, twenty times already that you want me." Closing his eyes, the pale-skinned youth takes a deep breath in through his nose.

"Besides, I can smell it. Your want. It's strong."

Cursing his own flooding pheromones, Sebastian grinds out, "That still doesn't mean you have to sleep with me."

"Who said anything about sleeping?" Connor arches a brow evilly. "I'm not tired. Are you?"

"I really don't think…"

It doesn't matter if Sebastian is nobly trying to resist because Connor takes the matter into his own hands. Using those spider-like fingers that are much stronger than they look, Connor grasps the front of his reluctant partner's white linen shirt and rips it open, buttons pinging in all directions.

"Connor…"

"Shut up, Seb. I'm seducing you. Learn to cope."

One more quick yanking motion and the shirt is torn right off the older man and thrown halfway across the room, the designer garment reduced to nothing more than a heap of shredded rags. Not that Sebastian can do anything about it. Connor is a super-being. If he wants this to happen then it's gonna damn well happen whether Sebastian protests or not. There's no point fighting the kid. And honestly, Sebastian doesn't want to fight so he stands there topless and hopelessly turned on; Connor's vivid blue eyes roaming over him in fascination, as if the boy has never seen him like this before. Which he hasn't, to tell the truth.

What Connor is only just discovering is that the muscles on the older male's arms and torso are much more pronounced than they were a year ago. Harder. Bigger. Back then Sebastian's figure was leaner, slenderer, verging on androgynous, which is why he could wear a dress and get away with it. But not now. Now, he's one hundred percent pure brawn. The guy's been working out like whoa, Connor deduces with a large measure of mouth-watering appreciation. He's got a tight-looking six-pack and his hips are sharply shaped to a vee. His sculpted biceps and forearms have a prominent vein running down them on the insides, highlighting his newfound physical fitness, thinning and merging into the veins on the back of his hands. The twenty-six year old's contoured chest is brown and buff but not waxed bare like last time; a fine mat of dark hair starting under his collarbones, sweeping across his broad pecs and tapering down to his navel.

There is also hair on and under his arms, which wasn't there previously. If it had been, perhaps Connor might have realised Sebastian was really a dude before he'd been shocked by the sight of the second man fresh out of the shower, his makeup washed off and his curling black hair still dripping wet. He was as smooth as a girl then but not anymore, the fuzz continuing underneath his bellybutton and trailing beneath the waistband of his pants to join up with yet more fuzz there. All that body hair might be a turn off to some people but to Connor it's just another intriguing layer of Sebastian's new, sexier, manlier form, a form that he definitely admires. One thing that is still the same from twelve months ago is the silver ring looped through his left nipple, gleaming alluringly in the dim lamp light.

Finally dragging his enthralled gaze back to Sebastian's face, Connor remarks jokingly, "No bra tonight, huh?"

"No bra ever again," Sebastian replies in a solemn tone. "I don't dress in women's clothes anymore. Not just because high heels make it hard to run but because it's not who I am any longer. That me is gone and she's not coming back."

By the way he is squinting it seems Connor doesn't understand this so Sebastian admits, "See, when you saved me from that vamp a year ago, you put me to shame, kiddo. If you hadn't showed up, I'd be a corpse rotting in the ground by now. Either that or I'd BE one of them." He grits his jaw in momentary disgust.

"I was a fully grown adult and I couldn't even protect myself. I was fucking pathetic."

"But I had experience in slaying vamps," Connor chips in. "You didn't."

"I know, urchin," Sebastian answers appreciatively, "but the fact that I couldn't even fight back at all made me hate myself. I felt useless and weak. And I didn't like that feeling. Hence, all the training I've been doing. I wanted to be tough, like you."

He reaches out and clasps Connor's upper arm, gazing into the teen's wide azure eyes.

"You are my inspiration, Connor," the second male states frankly and thankfully. "You made me embrace my masculinity, my strength, my power. You made me more of a man. And I am forever indebted to you for that."

Astounded to learn that he can affect someone's life in such a remarkable manner, Connor gapes at him, not sure how to reply to Sebastian's flattering declaration.

"And right now this man wants you to keep going," Sebastian continues, taking Connor's white hand and laying it on his tanned chest, waiting to see what the teenager does next. Connor pauses for a minute, feeling the thud of Sebastian's heart beneath his palm, marvelling at how it's growing quicker with his touch, as if beating for him alone. Nobody else's heart beats for Connor. Especially not the night-stalkers that he disposes of. They're dead. They don't remember what it feels like to have that rhythmic thumping behind the breastbone, pushing blood around the body and keeping it functioning. They don't remember how fast the heartbeat can get in times of danger or exhilaration, how it shows a person's emotions, like it's showing Sebastian's at this very moment. It's a distinct reminder of how human the other man is and Connor relishes the moment as the only beings he's touched lately are cold and lifeless, not warm and alive and breathing like this.

"You have a pulse too, you know," Sebastian comments, reminding Connor that although he came from vampires, he's not one of them.

"I know." Connor's voice is quiet. "But it's been a while since I've felt someone else's."

The older guy knows it's a stupid male possessive thing but he's glad Connor hasn't felt anyone's heartbeat for a while because if he had, it would mean he got up close and personal with somebody recently and Sebastian doesn't like the thought of that at all. He wants Connor all to himself. The boy should belong to him. And as of tonight, Sebastian's going to make sure that he does.

"Touch me, Connor," he urges huskily, moving the eighteen year old's slender fingers to his pierced nipple. "Do whatever you want to me. I'm all yours."

Recalling how much Sebastian liked the ring being played with; Connor turns his attention to it, beginning to toy with the hoop of silver in the second man's flesh. Spotting something, he halts and leans closer, making a soft sound of distress at the small crescent of scarred tissue around Sebastian's areola, where the skin had been ripped and healed up again.

"I did that," Connor whispers, face stricken with blame as he remembers his accidentally rough tugging last time they were in bed together. He swallows and lifts his gaze up to Sebastian's, his eyes pained and remorseful.

"I'm so sorry. I had no idea it would scar."

"Don't be sorry, seraph. It's not that noticeable. It doesn't even show up in photographs," Sebastian replies kindly, covering Connor's hand with his own. "Besides, it reminds me of the night I first met you. And for that reason alone I like it."

"You…like it?" Connor asks uncertainly.

"I do." Sebastian smiles forgivingly. "Now, if you're done apologising, I'd really like to have sex with you soon."

That brazen prompting dispels most of the guilt Connor feels at what he did one year ago but he's still wary of doing it again so as he touches Sebastian's piercing, he does it extra carefully, outlining the embedded item of jewellery, lifting it up and letting it drop back, gently rubbing the nub of one flat male nipple until it tightens. It's not long before Sebastian is murmuring his encouragement and tipping his head back, eyes closing with the sparkling sensations Connor's exploratory fingers are sending across his chest.

Looking at the engrossed, trancelike expression of sensuality on the older guy's face - lips slackening enough to reveal the edges of two front teeth, eyebrows drawing together in self-absorbed concentration - Connor finds it highly rewarding to know that he's the cause of it. He's never made anyone look like that before, as if they're getting lost in themselves, lost in what he's doing to them, focused only on the enjoyment they are receiving. It's a hot look. Now, if only he can get a moan...

While Sebastian's eyes are shut, Connor drops to his knees in front of those awesomely hard abs and unfastens his taller partner's pants, feeling unusually bold and confident thanks to the alcohol in his system. Feeling lips on his skin, Sebastian snaps his head forward, staggered to find Connor kneeling between his legs on the floor, laying clumsy kisses on his stomach while tugging down the front of his trunks. Vodka may not taste like anything but it sure did something potent to Connor's sensibilities, apparently dissolving his deeply-ingrained reservations to the stage of non-existent. Too stunned to say anything, Sebastian watches in aroused disbelief as Connor's hand takes hold of his heated male width, the boy inspecting it for a moment before lapping a crystal-clear droplet from the slit using his quick pink tongue.

Sebastian has never gasped so loud in his entire life. It's like he just got zapped on the dick with a cattle prod.

As if that wasn't shocking enough, he almost passes out completely when Connor starts sliding those cherry-red lips down his shaft, the boy's cheeks hollowing as he sucks. The fact that he's got the teenage vampire hunter's gorgeous mouth around his cock is nearly blowing Sebastian's mind. And something else.

"Oh, shit. Stop, baby, stop," he pleads, urgently grabbing fistfuls of Connor's long hair and yanking while simultaneously jerking his pelvis away.

Pulling back, Connor licks his glistening lips and gazes up at Sebastian anxiously, betraying the fact that he has never done this before, despite his enthusiastic efforts.

"Am I not doing it right?"

"No, it's not that," Sebastian stresses breathlessly. "You're doing it TOO right."

It's fortunate they fucked before because if he hadn't had that first orgasm, he would have exploded in Connor's hot little mouth the instant it touched him. He's dangerously close to that point as it is. If the kid doesn't like the taste of beer, he's sure as hell not going to like cum, especially not a whole startling gush of it.

Hauling Connor back to his feet and smacking an apologetic kiss to his furrowed brow, Sebastian explains, "That's the problem, honeybee. I don't want it to be like earlier, in the motel room. That was over too quickly. I want this to last, okay?"

"Okay," Connor replies uncertainly, unsure of the next move as Sebastian continues undressing, pushes his underwear and half-undone trousers down to his ankles, revealing muscled brown thighs and calves.

"I'm still waiting for you to get naked," Sebastian hints teasingly, stepping out of his pants and rolling down the long socks he wears with his biker boots. "I'm even going first so you don't feel self-conscious. Unless you really don't want me to see your tail..."

Grinning foolishly, Connor grips the hem of his navy-blue top, raising it up to expose his tiny tummy and even tinier waist. He peels the cotton article of clothing over his head and discards it, shaking his dark red hair out so it settles silkily over his creamy shoulders and down his back. Sebastian is openly watching him with those cat-like green eyes but Connor doesn't get self-conscious about disrobing in front of other people. He never has. The very first day he arrived in L.A. and met Sunny, she gave him some old clothes to change into and he stripped off his chamois suit in full view of her, not knowing any better. There was no shame on Qor'toth, no comparing bodies of other boys, no locker room sniggering. There were no other humans on that plane of existence except him and Holtz. As a result, he never learned what embarrassment was. Clothes are just another layer of skin, after all.

With this casual attitude, he takes off his baggy jeans, his briefs and socks, dumping them on the carpet. He leans down to unbuckle the scabbard around his ankle, the knife he cut the demon with still sitting in the leather sheath. That joins the pile of clothes on the floor. Around his other ankle are three wooden stakes strapped to a holster along with a small bottle of holy water and a silver cross. When hunting, he likes to go out fully prepped. He tosses those to the side, finally and completely divested of all his garments and possessions. Unlike Sebastian, Connor wears no jewellery. Also unlike Sebastian, he is remarkably fair-skinned, fairer than the petals of a lily. He doesn't even have freckles. Of course, growing up in a sunless hell dimension will do that to you. Even here on earth, Connor rarely ventures out in the daytime because the vamps and demons are in hiding so his pristine flesh will stay like this for a very long time.

Sebastian sweeps his spellbound gaze over that svelte, moonlight-pale body, mentally memorising every unique feature: the high forehead and stubbornly-set chin, long arms and pointy elbows, the round shoulders, the deep hollow at the base of a graceful throat, the flat chest and small rosy nipples, the softly shaped stomach with its thumbprint of a navel, the autumn brown ringlets low on his abdomen above the half-hard evidence of his desire, the lean legs and slim ankles, the sharpness of ribs and hips showing beneath parchment-fine skin. Connor's bones look so delicate, so light and bird-like, as if they would snap with only a little pressure though Sebastian knows those bones are a lot tougher than they appear. Just like the rest of him. Some people might think that he is too thin. Too gaunt. But Sebastian knows that's just the boy's natural makeup. He was born like that. And it's not like he's undernourished. He eats. He loves food; sweet things in particular, it seems. Hell, he should be overweight with all the candy and chocolate he consumes. However much sugary junk he stuffs into that little belly of his, Connor burns it all off beating up ghouls and ghastlies every night. Yes, he may be petite but he's fit and he's healthy and that's all that matters. Besides, Sebastian cannot imagine the waif-child looking any other way. He's perfect.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart," Sebastian tells him in a hushed, heartfelt tone. Seeing the doubt in Connor's face, he reaffirms, "You are. In my job I work with a lot of attractive people but with your white skin, red hair and red lips, you're more stunning than anyone I've ever seen, guy or girl. Your eyes… Lord, they take my breath away."

Though he doesn't truly believe those words, Connor lets himself bask in the warmness of Sebastian's voice, in the warmness of his emerald gaze.

"What makes you especially beautiful, Connor, is that you don't even know it."

The younger boy thinks that Sebastian is totally the better-looking one out of the pair of them - hello, catwalk model? - but the second man doesn't give him time to make an objection, stepping up to Connor and taking his hand.

"I love every bit of you," Sebastian says in a murmur, lifting Connor's hand and kissing the bump on the outer side of his wrist. "I love that part."

Connor's hand is turned over and his arm extended as Sebastian presses his lips to the inside of the youth's elbow, right on the crease, trying not to scrape Connor's soft skin with his rough stubble.

"And that part."

He glides his fingers up Connor's arm, reaching the kid's barely-there bicep, proving his love for that too with a gentle kiss. "And this."

Determined to make Connor feel the beauty that he cannot see for himself, Sebastian keeps kissing all the parts he loves about the other boy: a narrow shoulder, the side of his neck, one fragile collarbone; the tall male's curls falling forward and brushing Connor's chest like ribbons of black satin.

The softness and tenderness that is bestowed upon him by his older partner brings Connor close to tears, the touch of Sebastian's lips loving and reverential, the kind of affection he hasn't been given before, by anyone. People say you can't miss something you never had in the first place but God, he didn't know how much he missed this until now. How much he needed this.

Bending and tilting his head, Sebastian kisses the middle of Connor's hairless chest and then, cupping the teen's ribcage, he slides his lips to one rose-pink nipple. When he flickers his tongue against Connor's sensitive flesh, the eighteen year old sucks in a breath, his need for human contact turning into something deeper, hungrier, and more primeval. Craving more of Connor's tasty flesh, Sebastian moves his mouth southward along his pretty partner's chest, gradually sinking to his knees as if worshipping a god, thumbs caressing jutting hipbones. Connor looks down with heavily-lidded eyes, lust snaking into his gut like poison-berry juice as the other nude man kisses above his belly button. Then below it, in that space before his pubes, temptingly close to where Connor would like those lips. Before he can get what he wants, Sebastian glances up, his green gaze smoky with passion.

"Come here, precious," he instructs, starting to lie back on the fluffy carpet, pulling Connor down with him, assisting the smaller boy to kneel so that he ends up above Sebastian on the floor, straddling his chest. Laying his hands on Connor's trim waist, Sebastian urges him forward, closer to his face. Totally erect by now, the drunken teenager readily complies, never having tried this position before but quite keen to. Unexpectedly, Sebastian slides further underneath Connor, between his spread thighs, something the younger one hadn't anticipated and isn't sure he's comfortable with. He feels exposed and defenceless like this. And it scares him a little. Knowing this, Sebastian kisses his inner thigh, stroking him, calming him. When the taller man leisurely licks along the join of Connor's left thigh and groin, warm and wetly probing, Connor draws in a fast breath, rocked by the evocative nature of it, by the sheer intimacy of such an act. But it's about to get a whole lot more intimate. When the licking turns to his two most vulnerable body parts, he briefly tenses but Sebastian is being extra gentle and soon nothing matters except the fact that someone's tongue is on him. This is all brand new and unfamiliar but Connor starts to get very used to the idea as Sebastian skilfully pleasures his twin male pouches, swirling around them, mouthing them one at a time, lightly sucking; the oral adulation positively spine-tingling, causing goose bumps to rise on the skin of his arms and chest.

Back in the alley, Sebastian said he would do this and Connor wants to thank the other man for deciding to because he didn't realise how freaking incredible it was. Gay guys definitely know how to use their mouths. After this night, Connor knows that he will probably never go back to girls again but screw it. This is too good. He releases a long, rapturous sigh, shivery thrills spiralling up through the centre of his being and finishing in his brain, leaving him even more light-headed than the alcohol.

All too soon for Connor, Sebastian moves back up, placing an affectionate peck on the kid's milky thigh as he goes. He lifts his curly head, finding Connor's more-than-ready manhood waiting for him, aimed right at his face. Kissing the rounded end, he then nuzzles it, relishing the velvety texture against his lips and the slick, sweet-tasting secretion smearing on them. Connor impatiently nudges him so Sebastian opens his mouth and lets the kid push in, the ridged tip entering first. Rocking his hips, Connor goes in bit by bit, allowing enough time for Sebastian to coat him with saliva, making it easier to for the other man to take his entire length. Eventually, Sebastian has achieved that - thanks to years of practice and a very flexible jaw - and the picture of his dick being deep-throated by the other man is supremely sexy to Connor, like a scene from a pornographic movie, not that he's watched many of those. And none of them have ever starred anyone as hot as the dude below him right now.

Threading his fingers into the male model's lustrous hair, Connor cradles his head, supporting him so that all Sebastian has to do is suck. Watching every moment, he slowly disappears into Sebastian's accommodating mouth and out again, the second male's spit glimmering on his shaft. It's just like his secret, shameful fantasies, the ones he'd have staring at that shirtless photograph of Sebastian in the magazine. After all this time alone, without any touch but that of his own hand, Connor almost can't believe this is actually happening to him in real life. But it is. And while it lasts, he's gonna enjoy each delicious second of it.

Apparently enjoying this as well, Sebastian has his eyes shut dreamily and he's absently drawing patterns on Connor's upper legs with his fingertips, the kid's hardness sliding between the circle of his lips, along his tongue and past the back of his throat. As he sucks, the twenty-six year old's restless hands travel up to the swell of his teenage lover's small backside, cupping the firm flesh, pausing to trace the tantalising gully running down it. Unable to help himself, Sebastian presses his first two fingers into that gully, between the boy's buttocks.

Connor jolts so violently he nearly makes Sebastian cough.

Letting his head drop back down to the floor, Sebastian licks his lips and promises quickly, "I'm not gonna hurt you. Never gonna hurt you, darlin'. Just wanna touch you there. That's all."

"That's all?" Connor demands suspiciously.

"I swear on my momma's life. Trust me, Connor. Please."

Seeing the honesty in Sebastian's imploring eyes, Connor's tenseness begins to lessen and he realises that he shouldn't be so uptight. After all, if he's going to be queer like Sebastian, he ought to try these things, at least once. "Okay," he says indecisively but he sinks back down, trustingly taking the other man's word.

Sebastian knows he's in a position of great responsibility. What he does next will have a long-term impact on Connor - for better or worse - and the last thing he wants is for it to be a negative one so he doesn't dive right in straight away; he resumes orally stimulating Connor again; licking him, swallowing him, using his lips and tongue in the most sensual way he knows how while gliding his palms up and down the back of the boy's thighs until he settles. Then, when Connor starts to get turned on again, breathing more rapidly, Sebastian eases his fingers into the teen's untouched valley, careful not to startle him. When he finds what he's searching for Sebastian lets a gratified moan rumble in his chest, quite aware that he's being given a special privilege nobody else has. He gently rubs the spot, circling the half-demon child's private entranceway, making sure he keeps sucking Connor at the same time. From his own experiences, Sebastian knows it feels better this way.

He's correct. Connor didn't think he'd like this, being touched in such a personal place, but the sensation is actually pleasurable, especially combined with the expertise of the mouth working on his dick. The rubbing and the sucking are in two different locations but the feeling spreads and merges until the whole area between his legs throbs achingly, pulsing with burning need. A soft sound escapes him; halfway between a whimper and a moan.

Halting for a few moments, Sebastian whispers, "Is it okay?"

"Yeah," Connor whispers back, combing his fingers into Sebastian's hair and pulling him closer, wanting more in his intoxicated haze. "Keep going."

Given such encouraging feedback, Sebastian doesn't stop for long, greedily engulfing Connor's stiffened staff, his right hand busily delving into the second boy's crack, aiming to make him come like never before.

He must be doing something right because Connor's nearly there already, his reproductive organs heavy and full. The vodka reacting to his unusual blood type in conjunction with an elevated state of arousal causes the boy's heart to pound much more powerfully than it should and he speedily heats up, his cheeks colouring as his body temperature climbs. As Sebastian sucks him, Connor begins to respond with short, thrusting motions of his pelvis, a sheen of perspiration gathering on his pale skin, causing it to gleam in the lamplight, soon turning into rivulets of sweat which roll down his sleek spine and into his cleft, making it wet and slippery where the taller man is touching him. That slipperiness proves too irresistible to Sebastian and he presses harder against that tempting little opening. When his fingertip breaks through and penetrates in, Connor hisses, jerking with the abrupt unexpectedness of it, an electrically charged shock shooting right up his spinal column, taking him to the edge of ejaculation with a suddenness he never thought possible.

Connor is so hot inside. So fucking tight, just like Sebastian knew he would be. Groaning in his throat, the dark-haired male slowly slides the rest of his finger into the teenager's gripping heat, getting off tremendously by Connor's almost astonished responses. Unlike his green-eyed lover, Connor's not very vocal during sex, expressing his pleasure with shallow breaths and hitched gasps rather than loud moans or religious exclamations but the small, needy noises that he makes are the sweetest sounds in the world to Sebastian's ears. He has done this to more than a few guys in the past but it's never excited him to this sort of degree before. The reason is that it's Connor he's doing it to. And Connor's not stopping him. It's probably only because he's drunk and though Sebastian didn't really want to take advantage of the kid's uninhibited condition it seems he is after all. He'll probably get his face slapped in the morning or a knee in the balls for doing this without asking permission but right now he's willing to take any punishment Connor might dole out to him because this is the hottest, most erotic moment of his life, so erotic in fact that he's about to jizz all over his own stomach.

Also about to lose control is the younger half of the duo. Sebastian has activated nerve endings Connor didn't even know he had and those plus the ones in his prick being manipulated together is almost too much for him handle at once, driving him crazy with sensory overload, his skin covered in chills and his crotch afire. Holding the brunette male's head with both hands, he fucks Sebastian's moist, receptive mouth, faster and deeper, panting as he gets nearer and nearer to the release he craves. Still making muffled groans around Connor's plunging cock, Sebastian continues fingering the eighteen year old's beautiful ass, stretching him, loosening him up. In a strangled voice, Connor says Sebastian's name, like a warning, and the older man doubles his efforts, sucking harder and pushing into that virgin hole as far as he can go, right up to his knuckles. As he's coming, Connor is aware that Sebastian has somehow gotten two fingers all the way inside him but doesn't care, gasping jaggedly as indescribably intense tremors ripple through his belly and down both thighs, his muscles tightening and releasing with shudders. In the midst of such an extreme climax, Connor shoves into his partner's mouth a little too roughly but Sebastian lets his throat relax so he can take the deep thrust and the sudden surge of warm fluid that comes with it.

When Connor stops shuddering and slumps there on Sebastian's chest, catching his breath, Sebastian grasps the shorter male's hips, lifting him away and setting him down on the floor, on his knees. Still lying on the carpet, the twenty-six year old grabs Connor by the back of the head and yanks him down to groin level. For a bewildering minute Connor thinks that Sebastian will force him to suck and swallow but the older man simply takes a handful of his hair and wraps it around his own shaft, using it to jerk off with. The cool silk of Connor's long locks slides sensually over the blistering flesh of his dick and with a few quick flicks of his wrist, Sebastian gets himself off, screwing his face up and holding his breath, perfect white teeth biting down on his bottom lip as he comes. Quite close to the action, a couple of spurts of semen narrowly miss Connor's eye, landing instead in his hair and clumping the reddish strands together.

"Oh, yeah," Sebastian sighs, sweet relief sweeping over his body at last. "Oh, God yeah…"

He drags in a few heaving lungfuls of air, replenishing the oxygen supply to his brain. Finally cracking his eyes open, he sees what he's done to Connor's auburn tresses and hurriedly lets go, the boy holding out that section of hair, peering at the whitish gunk lodged in it.

"Sorry, sweetie," Sebastian apologises, sitting up and handing over the remains of his shirt for Connor to clean up with. "You just got me so hot."

"It's okay." Connor shrugs as he wipes it off, as if he gets sperm flung at him all the time.

Feeling guilty for doing what he promised not to, Sebastian asks tentatively, "I didn't…I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Like you could anyway," Connor mocks, giving Sebastian a teasing shove, feeling relaxed and playful after his second, surprisingly strong orgasm. "You've got to be over ten feet tall with cloven hooves and a body made of volcanic rock to be able to hurt me."

Eyes going round, Sebastian exclaims, "Are you serious? Is there really something like that out there?"

"There was." Connor shifts onto his side, propping his head up with his palm as he gazes off into the distance. "Called The Beast. Skin so hard no weapons would go through it. Not knives, not bullets; nothing manmade."

"Shit." Sebastian blinks.

"It's the only thing that has ever broken me. I'd never been broken before." Connor unconsciously feels his ribs which have long since healed. "Anyway, it's dead. Angelus killed it. I wish I'd done it but whatever." He lifts a shoulder grudgingly.

"So, your father must be pretty tough too," Sebastian estimates in awe. "If he could kill a creature like that."

"Angelus is NOT my father," Connor rebounds strongly, making it very clear. "Just his evil clone. So he could destroy The Beast, Angel's soul had to be removed. His friends did it to him." He curls his lip in derision.

"They used magic. Things always go wrong when they use magic."

Crossing his legs like a first-grader at story time, Sebastian prompts, "Why, what happened?

Reliving the horrifying carnage and mayhem that ensued, the teen mutters blackly, "Well, he destroyed The Beast all right, but letting a two hundred year old psycho serial killer loose on the world? Not good. He would have killed all of us. His friends. Even me."

"Shit," Sebastian says again, this time in a more fearful tone. "I hope you don't introduce me to your old man anytime soon because, damn. He sounds like one scary fucking dude."

"We got his soul back. He's not scary anymore," Connor assures him. "Most of the time he's just a goofy, embarrassing dad. Asks too many personal questions. Hugs me in public. That kinda thing." He tilts his head at Sebastian.

"Would you ever want to meet him?"

"I dunno." Only half kidding, the brunette male adds, "Would he try to eat me?"

Smiling wryly, Connor says, "He's on a pigs' blood diet. No necks. You'd be safe."

"Well, maybe then," Sebastian concedes hesitantly. "One day. Only if you wanted me to." He looks inquisitively at Connor. "Why, would you want me to?"

"I dunno." Connor ponders this. "Maybe."

Suddenly realising what they are discussing, Connor groans and rolls his eyes. "Why do we keep talking about my dad? Lame."

"You're right. That is lame," Sebastian admits. "I mean, we're both sitting here naked. I can think of other things I'd rather be talking about."

Starting to grin, Connor questions, "Like what?"

"Like how gorgeous you are." Sebastian smiles sexily. "And how much I want to…"

"Hold that thought. I gotta pee," Connor announces, making an uncomfortable face and getting up. "Bathroom?"

Pointing, Sebastian directs, "Down the hall, fourth door on the right."

His bladder urgently needing to be emptied, Connor lurches unsteadily down the corridor, still a little dizzy, craning his neck around and peeking into each room he passes on the way. There is a formal dining room fancied up like a page out of a home renovation magazine, complete with white china plates, cutlery and glassware all laid out on a long table ready for a dinner party, two other bedrooms – one of which has been turned into a computer room/office - and a gym, full of training equipment like weights, dumbbells, a treadmill and step machine. There's a fifth room Sebastian didn't mention and Connor curiously sticks his head into it, discovering Sebastian's boudoir. There's a giant, king-sized bed in there, the colour scheme consisting of greys and blues making the space both stylish and restful. It's neat, like Connor would expect, the bed made up, sheets tucked in, pillows arranged at the head of it. There are more knickknacks and collectables in here; model motorcycles arranged on a shelf, action figures from the 80's displayed in a glass cabinet, a life-size cardboard cut-out of Arnold Schwarzenegger as the deadly-cool Terminator, a signed poster of MotoGP champion Valentino Rossi, a clock made out of an old vinyl record; all giving the room individuality and personality.

Finished prying for now, Connor enters the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and giving a low whistle at the lavish surroundings. This room is huge, tiled in black marble with gold trims like robe hooks and soap holders. There's a double shower with a dark red curtain and more splashes of red in the thick towels rolled up and set in square pigeon-holes in the wall. There's a gold heated towel rail and a triangular spa bath big enough for five people. As well as the toilet there's a urinal set in the wall, the feature unusual, like it should belong in a fancy hotel or something. As Connor stands there peeing, he thinks that this room is so elegant and luxurious; he almost expects to see a guy in uniform come out holding a flannel for him to dry his hands on. But he doesn't even need that as there's an electric dryer right near the basin for hands-free operation.

"Totally awesome," he mutters as he elbows the dryer into life, hot air blasting out and making his hair fly around like in one of those MTV music videos.

Hands dry, he gazes in the mirror, running his fingers through his messy mane, tucking it behind his ears, noting how his cheeks are still flushed and his lips are all puffy and wine-coloured, grinning childishly as he realises he looks like he's just been laid. Which he pretty much has. Do fingers count? His slightly sore ass believes they do. Shaking his head, he exhales slowly, finding it hard to fathom what he just did on the lounge room floor, what he just let Sebastian do.

"Dude," he says solemnly to himself. "You are so drunk."

And then he laughs, stumbling back to Sebastian, eager to do more wild, dirty things with his gay friend. This is the first night in a long time he hasn't spent it hunting. He may get more of Seb's man-goo on him but it sure beats getting ashy vamp dust in his eyes or green demon mucous on his clothes.

Awaiting his return, Sebastian chuckles as he hears the kid nearly tripping over a sculpture of an eagle in the hallway, Connor cussing in irritation, not used to being this awkward.

"Nice bathroom," the boy remarks as he makes it back to the living area safely. "In fact, nice house."

Clasping his hands behind his head, Sebastian replies happily, "Yeah, it's home."

Flopping back down beside him on the shagpile carpet, Connor asks, "Don't you ever get lonely, living all by yourself?"

"Not really. I like my own space. I had a roommate once but he kept eating all my food, scratching all my DVDs and leaving all his dirty clothes on the floor for me to wash so I threw his lazy ass out pronto. I wouldn't live with anyone again." Sebastian pauses and smiles at Connor. "Except for maybe you."

At Connor's surprised expression, he hurriedly adds, "Not that I'm pressuring you to move in with me or anything 'cause I'm sure you like your own space too but hey, you can come over and stay whenever you want, kiddo. I'm serious. If your place gets like, trashed by demons or sinks into a fault line or something, I want you to know you got a bed here. Hell, you got a whole house if you need it. Just let me know, okay?"

"I will," Connor replies, flattered by the offer. "Thank you."

"Of course, it doesn't have to be an emergency. You can always come over just for sex."

At the quip, Connor smirks. "Already did."

PART FIVE

"Oh, so you're not really interested in me as a person, huh?" Sebastian pretends to be offended but his eyes sparkle. "You're just using me for my body."

"Don't hear you complaining," Connor returns naughtily. Just the mere mention of what they've done together is enough to rouse his interest again. That and the fact that he's eighteen years old and swarming with testosterone. Plus it doesn't hurt that Sebastian is lying right next to him without a stitch on, totally comfortable in his own bare skin which happens to be a striking shade of bronze and so silky to the touch that Connor can't help reaching over and caressing it, his fingers trailing up the first male's thigh, joining up with an equally bronze hip.

"Do you tan?"

"Don't need to. I get all this from my mom," Sebastian answers proudly. "She comes from Egypt."

Connor makes an impressed face. "Wow. My father is Irish," he adds. "His human name was Liam."

"Ah, now I see where your looks come from," Sebastian comments, making reference to the boy's pale skin and red-toned hair.

"I've never been to Ireland," Connor muses, gazing at all the tourist souvenirs Sebastian has around the room, all the far-away continents he's travelled to. "I've never been anywhere, apart from Qor'toth. But Dad says it's a beautiful place."

"It is," Sebastian affirms, having visited the Emerald Isle a couple of times already. "Lots of wicked castles and scenery that's right out of Middle Earth. I'll take you there one day, if you like. We could even find your dad's old house, if it's still standing."

"Really?" Connor looks at him in wonder. "That'd be neat."

"I'd take you anywhere you wanted to go. You know, if you were my boyfriend," Sebastian hints almost bashfully.

Connor continues looking at him, not sure how to react to that, whether to whoop with joy or to cry. Cautiously, he queries, "Do you…want me to be?"

"Yeah. I do." Sebastian's voice is serious. "But you don't have to commit to a relationship right this second. I know it's all pretty sudden. We can just stay lovers for a while if that suits you better."

Amazed that someone as cool as Sebastian would want a half-breed vampire killer for a lover, let alone a boyfriend, Connor is lost for words and the only thing he can think of as an answer is to lean over and capture Sebastian's mouth, kissing it gratefully for saying such wonderful things.

With Connor's luscious lips upon his it doesn't take long for Sebastian's interest to be roused as well, closing his eyes and sliding his palms along the teen's upper arms. Showing none of the timidity he exhibited back in the alley when he was first approached, Connor openly seeks out Sebastian's tongue, caressing it with his own, tasting sex and alcohol and the unforgettable masculine sensuousness of the other man; something Connor never stopped thinking about and had often longed to sample again. Enjoying the slow, deep, velvet kisses being given to him Connor slips his leg between those of the twenty-six year old underneath him, Sebastian grasping at the boy's shoulders and pulling him closer.

The two males get immersed in meshing moist lips and wet, searching tongues, feeling the physical magnetism beginning to pull insistently at them again, until Connor breaks off and slides his mouth downward, over Sebastian's chin. He nibbles and sucks along his older companion's bared neck, over an Adam's apple, over a set of collarbones, reaching the top of a firm, planed chest; the curtain of Connor's long locks hanging down and tickling Sebastian's skin. Grazing over the surprisingly soft fur that covers Sebastian's pecs, Connor locates that surgical-grade steel ring that so fascinated him when they first met, pressing his lips to it softly, as if apologising for the harsh way he treated it last time. When the tip of his tongue outlines that circle of silver and the pale scar beside it Sebastian shudders, burying his fingers into the boy's auburn mane, holding his head there, wanting more of this, of Connor's crimson mouth and the mind-shattering ecstasy it can create. The demon hunter doesn't disappoint, slowly licking around the ring and the nipple it's sitting in, lightly pulling at the jewellery with his teeth, leaving Sebastian's flesh tight and tingly.

Connor moves his leg up between Sebastian's, carefully pressing his knee into the second man's groin, against his rapidly-solidifying length. Leaning further over Sebastian's chest, Connor finds the nipple that's not pierced, giving it a quick bite, causing Sebastian to jerk and swear under his breath, his fists clenching in Connor's hair. No blood is drawn but Connor knows that Sebastian likes a touch of pain mixed with his pleasure so he does it again, rougher, getting off at the sound of the taller male's gasp. While the teenager presses maddeningly into Sebastian's crotch, he continues alternately biting and licking the nipple under his mouth, his left hand going up to the other one, toying with the implanted hoop and making Sebastian question in the midst of his tormented desire how the kid has already figured out his turn-ons, all the things that get him worked up but then truthfully, he doesn't really care. All that matters is that Connor is here with him doing those things and he lets his eyes roll back, losing himself in the experience; in Connor's rubbing kneecap, teasing fingers and nipping teeth. Connor continues his three-pronged assault on Sebastian's erogenous zones, loving the responses he's obtaining from his brown-skinned friend; the husky moaning, the writhing and the wanton hip-raising.

"Damn, honey. Your mouth is fucking fantastic," Sebastian groans, sounding as though he's about to orgasm right then and there. Fully hard again, Connor stops and gazes hungrily at the green-eyed model, wanting to be inside of him once more but not certain how to go about it. Well, he knows how to go about it; it's just that he's not sure if he should. In regards to this whole male/male thing, there must be rules and set codes of behaviour to follow however Connor's got absolutely no idea what they are. What do other guys do when they reach this moment? Do they ask politely or just go ahead and take? What's the correct procedure? Judging by the slickness smeared on his knee and the erotically drowsy look of the second man's face Sebastian seems ready for it too but Connor doesn't want to do anything he hasn't gotten permission for.

Wondering why there's a pause in the proceedings, Sebastian lifts his lashes to discover Connor looking at him, his expression both urgent and uncertain, like he's thinking about saying something yet not quite daring to. As the silence stretches out, Sebastian realises that the kid has never spoken of his needs, or mentioned what he wants when it comes to lovemaking. Sure, Connor has freely gone along with everything that has been suggested to him and has frequently demonstrated his desire – even demonstrating it right now staring lustfully at Sebastian's unclothed form - but he's never actually said it out loud. He's never said that he wants Sebastian. And for some reason Sebastian would really like to hear that.

"Do you want me, babe?" he prompts Connor.

Nodding, Connor replies needily, "Yeah."

"Say it," Sebastian instructs softly. "Please."

Not used to speaking such words, Connor begins tentatively, "I want…you."

"Say it again."

"I want you," the younger male repeats, sounding more like he means it.

"What do you want to do me? To my body?"

"Anything. Everything. Whatever you'll let me."

Getting a heady rush of power from the boy's open admission, Sebastian orders, "Tell me, Connor. Exactly. You're not allowed to do it until you say it."

Feeling an aggressive spark at the demanding tone directed towards him, blue flames leap behind Connor's eyes and he grabs Sebastian around the ribs, yanking him off the floor. Before the bigger man can even draw breath, Connor has lifted him and hurled him across to the couch like he's nothing more than a human-sized beanbag, Sebastian landing on his back with a heavy thump. Once again witness to the mighty force of Connor's demon side Sebastian just sprawls there mutely, barely blinking as the eighteen year old springs up with feline grace and swiftness onto the couch with him. For a scary moment Sebastian thinks he's pushed Connor too far and he is in for major trouble but then it dawns on him that the intense look on the boy's face isn't one of anger.

Normally, Connor hates it when people get bossy but sometimes, depending on the person, it has the opposite effect on him. Like when the slayer-bitch Faith shoved a crossbow in his face and cut him down to size with her razor-sharp tongue, taking charge and making damn sure he didn't forget it. That was hot. But this is hotter. Because unlike Faith, Sebastian will actually let Connor do him.

"You wanna know what I want, Sebastian? I want this." With clear purpose, Connor pulls apart the other man's tanned, muscular thighs, positioning himself between them. "My dick. In your ass. Exact enough for you?"

Seeing those angelic lips forming those nasty words causes Sebastian's excitement level to double, his pulse elevating in anticipation.

The teen's eyes smoulder with erotic intent, locking with Sebastian's, his stare commanding complete attention and focus, the older male enraptured by the fiery sapphire orbs blazing down at him. Without breaking the contact of their heated gaze or looking down, Connor spits into his hand and smears saliva onto his own more-than-ready instrument. The alcohol sluicing through his veins and mixing unpredictably with his demon blood allows him to say things he's never said to anyone before; secret things, dirty things, things that fill his head and make his flesh burn with wanting.

"I want to fuck you. Fast and rough. I want to bruise you. Hurt you. Break you." Connor's voice is a low, bestial growl. "I want to make you come again. Harder than before. Harder than you've ever come in your life. And I want to watch when you do."

After he says that Connor jerks Sebastian forward onto his stiffness, the second man sucking in a hissing breath at the rapid, unprepared penetration. Connor's cum is still inside Sebastian from their time in the Honeymoon room, lubricating his entry so he can slide all the way inside Sebastian's body in one sure stroke, right into that slick surrounding heat, Connor gritting his teeth at the smooth slippery feel of it. Just like he vowed, the child of two vampires doesn't go easy on his human partner, slamming into him straight away; no warming up, no gentleness, just brute animal savagery, holding Sebastian's hips firmly in place with both hands, tiny strong fingers crushing flesh to the bone and already leaving impressions on the other male's brown skin. Sebastian gives a short shout, jolting awkwardly, his emerald eyes wide and shocked as he stares up at his demonic lover, not expecting him to be so deliberately merciless. Connor is hurting him but in a twisted way it's also deliciously pleasurable and Sebastian isn't sure if he wants the kid to quit it or not. It is of no concern if he can't decide because Connor continues to ram into him, methodically and powerfully, driving him back into the couch, jarring Sebastian from head to toe with firm pounding motions of his pelvis.

The last two times they've had sex, Connor has been behind him so he couldn't see Sebastian's reactions but now he gazes down, tossing his long autumn-coloured hair back over one shoulder so he can watch clearly, not wanting to miss a single moment. He briefly glances to where they are joined, watching his cock going in and out of that tight, tugging opening, watching how the older man's thighs and belly muscles clench and ripple with every thrust, and then he focuses back on Sebastian's face, Connor ruthlessly delighting in the overwhelmed look there as the twenty-six year old tries to cope with being fucked so hard. Sebastian struggles with conflicting emotions, his facial expressions changing from submissive enjoyment to uncomfortable humiliation, making reluctant noises halfway between gasps and whimpers as he bites his lip. He almost looks like he's going to cry.

Torturing him even further, Connor reaches down to flick the ring in his nipple, twisting it, not enough to reopen the healed scar but just far enough for his half-Egyptian companion to groan with pained pleasure, Sebastian finding it difficult to deal with on top of the intense sensation spearing into his gut with every one of the boy's vicious stabs. Showing not an ounce of mercy, Connor bangs him thoroughly, Sebastian feeling himself bruising in places he didn't even know could be bruised. If Connor's intention is to forcefully erase the memory of every other guy that he's been with in the past, it's working rather successfully because right now Sebastian can't think of anything or anyone else but the eighteen year old demon-child taking complete possession of his body and soul, using him, dominating him, owning him.

Wanting to get even deeper inside of his gay lover, Connor roughly lifts Sebastian's pelvis up, the second male's hipbones becoming more prominent under the skin and his muscular belly flattening and lengthening as his whole lower half is raised off the couch. Connor leans back slightly on his knees, adjusting for the change in position as he resumes thrusting. Something about this angle makes Sebastian react wildly, immediately clamping his legs around Connor's small waist and arching upwards, his gasping whimpers turning louder, sharper and more desperate. His reaction spurs Connor into more aggressiveness, battering into Sebastian like he is indeed trying to break the other man's bones, the Lenny Kravitz CD playing on the stereo getting drowned out by the sound of smacking bodies and Sebastian's hoarse cries, unwillingly torn from his throat with each punishing, brutal jab he receives. Suddenly, Sebastian grips both of Connor's wrists, his fingernails digging in as if telling the kid to stop but Connor doesn't, not even when helpless tears start slipping down Sebastian's crumpled face. He just keeps fucking him faster and harder until a sobbing Sebastian can take no more. Plummeting into the mindless brilliance of orgasmic release, Sebastian squeezes his eyelids shut and throws his curly head back, revealing the tendons in his neck and the artery throbbing just under his whiskered jaw, his brain filling with white light that explodes throughout his whole being, causing him to shudder violently, coming over his own stomach. As his own crescendo peaks, Connor slams home one last time, keeping Sebastian still against him, growling with gratification as he spills deep inside the other man's hot, pulsing body.

Breathing quickly from the energetic exertion, Connor remains kneeling for a minute or so, supporting Sebastian's hips, the taller man's thighs locked rigidly around him, sweat drying on their skins. The small pool of Sebastian's semen trickles down his tilted torso to the base of his ribs; a thin, nearly clear liquid, all that's left after two previous climaxes, however, this one definitely had the most impact. He is panting, his cheeks wet from crying and his black hair in wild tangles around his flushed face. He looks beautifully broken and Connor has a fierce sense of ownership, knowing that Sebastian is his now and nobody else will ever get to have him again.

Uncurling one hand from Connor's wrist, Sebastian brings it up to his face and wipes the tear-tracks away with still-trembling fingers. Seeing how shaken he is, Connor begins to feel a twinge of regret, fearing that he might have overdone it a little.

"You okay, Sebastian?"

The brunette man sniffs, licks his dry lips and opens his eyes, finally looking up.

"Well, you wanted to hurt me," he accuses in a raspy voice. "Don't go acting like you're sorry now, you cruel bastard."

And then he slowly grins at Connor, proving that all is forgiven and that he'd actually had a great time of it. Connor grins back in relief.

"Hey. Ouch. Take it easy," Sebastian laughingly winces as Connor withdraws from him, knowing that it's going to be very painful to ride his motorbike tomorrow. Unhooking Sebastian's stiff legs Connor lowers him back to the couch and releases his hips, complete with red finger-marks. Gingerly, Sebastian stretches out on the leather lounge, his inner thighs cramped and his abs aching like he's just spent two hours working out in his gym. Not so much sore as sapped of strength, Connor collapses on top of him, Sebastian weakly hugging him with both arms, perfectly content to bear the youth's exhausted weight, not that it's a lot. Connor lays his cheek against the older man's furry chest, listening to the rapid thumping of his heart, blissfully satisfied by their mating. What makes it even more satisfying is that he knows Sebastian enjoyed it just as much as he did. This is without doubt the best sex he's ever had.

Thinking just the same thing, Sebastian gazes down at the naked pale figure lying upon him, searching Connor's pixyish face. The eighteen year old is smiling with his eyes closed, all relaxed and tranquil. It's the happiest Sebastian has ever seen Connor look. But is it because he's with Sebastian or because he's pleasantly drunk and just gotten laid?

After a while Sebastian says, "Connor, can I ask you something personal?"

"Mm," is the boy's lazily murmured reply.

"Over this last year, did you…you know… ever miss me?" Sebastian hesitantly broaches. "Did you ever want to see me? Even once?"

Connor softly laughs, not the response Sebastian was expecting. He meets Sebastian's questioning gaze and there is amusement in the teen's face.

"A while ago, I saved this guy's life," Connor starts. "He was a prostitute. I used to see him standing on the same corner every night I went out hunting. He always said hi to me." Actually, the dude once said that seeing Connor walk past was the highlight of his evening and he said it in a very flirtatious manner but Connor chooses to keep that his flattering little secret and not mention it to Sebastian.

"One night he wasn't there and I sensed something was wrong. So, I scouted the area. Heard snarling. When I showed up, he was just about to get his throat ripped out by a werewolf. I killed it, of course," Connor states nonchalantly. "The guy offered to repay me – personally - and I thought about taking him up on it. I mean, it's not like he was ugly. Spiky purple hair, eye makeup, lip ring. Attractive in a Goth kind of way," he admits, much to Sebastian's instant jealousy. "He was always nice to me and I was lonely. Bringing him back to my place? Pretty tempting."

He looks at Sebastian, checking his reaction. "You want to know what happened next?"

Nearly pouting, Sebastian demands, "What?"

"I didn't do it."

"Really?" Sebastian queries in surprise, knowing that he probably would have accepted the offer of free sex with a hot hustler. "Why not?"

Uncharacteristically bashful, Connor reveals, "Because he wasn't you, Sebastian. That's why."

Connor's way of telling Sebastian that he was very much missed causes the taller man's heart to expand in his ribcage with elation.

"I've never been with any other guys," Connor confesses further. "Not since you. Not since that night."

Unwilling to lie just to spare the kid's feelings, Sebastian divulges guiltily, "I have."

With a small shrug of acceptance, Connor replies, "I know. I didn't expect you not to. I don't own you or anything."

"This is gonna sound like the biggest cliché in the universe, but you do own me, sugar," Sebastian insists. "Those other men, they didn't mean anything to me. Honest to god. You were the one I kept thinking about." He makes a cringing face. "In fact, I actually called some guy by your name once, in the middle of…you know. He didn't like that very much."

Staring at Sebastian in concern, Connor asks, "What did he do?"

"He got pissed at me and demanded to know who the fuck I was talking about." Remembering how the asshole almost hit him, Sebastian continues quietly, "I told him he should leave. And he did. It was a few months ago now. He was the last person I slept with. But I never really wanted him. I never wanted any of them, not like I wanted you. Every time they touched me, I'd close my eyes and pretend it was you, Connor. "

"You don't have to pretend anymore," Connor says in a soft, understanding voice, raising his long-fingered hand to Sebastian's stubbled chin. "I'm here with you now. I'm here whenever you want me to be."

Happy to a ridiculous degree, Sebastian nuzzles into Connor's stroking fingers, kissing the tips of them. "For someone whose nickname is The Destroyer, you say the sweetest darn things."

Connor smiles shyly. "I did miss you. A lot. Just in case you didn't get that from my rambling werewolf story."

"I got it. Thank you." Sebastian smiles in return. "I was beginning to think I was crazy, infatuated with somebody I only saw once. But I'm glad I'm not the only one." He looks at Connor with one eyebrow raised questioningly. "You ARE infatuated with me, right? I don't have to worry about you leaving me for the Goth man-whore?"

"Nope. He's gone. Said there's too much scary shit in LA."

"Well, he's right," the older male concedes, thinking that the only reason he still lives here is because Connor does.

"Even if he did come back, there's zero chance of me going home with him. I'd only do that with you, Seb." Grinning cutely, Connor ends, "So, yeah. Total infatuation here too."

"Good." Sebastian sounds possessive. "Because you belong to me now. Okay?"

"Okay."

Sighing happily at the mutual agreement, Sebastian spreads his hand into Connor's satiny hair as the boy nestles into his chest again.

Resting there with his nude body draped intimately over his handsome partner's, Connor's mind flits back to his past experiences with sex and relationships, what few there are; back to his ex-girlfriend Tracey, who he only did it with a couple of times - both awkward, fumbling encounters in his fake parents' car - and then goes back even further, to that doomed night with Cordelia. Now that's he's older and more knowledgeable, he realises that he knew nothing then about pleasing someone else. He was so excited about finally getting to do it with Cordy that he forgot he was supposed to make her feel good too. He mentally winces as he recalls how he braced himself high over her body with both arms and moved slowly and cautiously, afraid he would hurt her when he should have known better because she was definitely no virginal maiden. Prior to Connor, she'd been with that buff Groosalugg guy he'd seen in photos, some slick one night stand who got her knocked up with multiple demon spawn and who knows how many other dudes before that. In high school she would have been one of the popular girls, if not THE popular girl, and no doubt all the boys were falling over their tongues to get to her. By the time she met Connor, Cordelia would have done all there is to do so his tentative efforts in bed must have seemed hopelessly inadequate to her and he can't understand how she laid there patiently when she was getting nothing out of it.

But then again, she was. She was getting something out of it. A whole lot of tentacled something that glowed green and ate people. That's what it was all about, falling pregnant to Connor so she could give birth to - for lack of a better explanation -herself. Connor knows now that it wasn't sexy, sassy Cordelia Chase in the sheets with him that night. Well, some of it was her; the feeling sorry for Connor part, but most of it was another thing entirely, an ancient, dreadful thing hiding inside of Cordy's mind and body, manipulating and scheming. That thing was a demented, demonic Power That Used to Be which needed a human host to give it life again and when he dwells on the fact that it was actually Jasmine he was sleeping with… that's when Connor gets all grossed out and has to stop thinking about it.

The brain-sucking bug that burrowed inside Lorne's skull and stole his memory? Kind of wishes he had one of those.

He'd much rather think about Sebastian Christensen who's lying beneath him like a man-shaped mattress, all warm and supportive and comfortable. And not evil. In fact, Sebastian is one of the most un-evil beings he's ever met; so full of kindness and caring, more concerned about other people than himself. He courageously faced that coal demon back in the alley armed only with a lighter, and he didn't know for sure if that was even going to work, but he did it without thinking of his own safety, purely to help Connor. Nobody has ever done that before, put his life before theirs. Well, maybe Angel, but then that's his job as a dad. He's supposed to protect Connor. Being no relation whatsoever, Sebastian doesn't have to. But he did. Because he cares. Connor knows that, in the same way he knows when someone is a vampire, no matter how human they look on the outside. It's intuitive, something that he senses in his gut, in his blood. Sebastian truly cares about him. He's even proving it right now by holding Connor close, by gently running his fingers through Connor's hair, and knowing that the other male has such deep feelings for him makes the teenager care right back. The protectiveness goes both ways. Connor would die if it meant saving Sebastian from harm. He would. He'd do anything for the guy.

Absolutely anything.

Connor swore never to fall in love again, not after what happened last time, but he thinks he might be ready to let himself feel that emotion once more. He's probably already feeling it at this very moment; a funny sensation churning in his stomach and his head swirling with giddiness.

Or maybe that's just the feeling of being about to puke.

Swiftly sitting up and scrambling to his feet, Connor immediately regrets it because the swirling in his head intensifies to an unbearable level and he starts leaning dizzily to the left, his normally sharp vision all dark and blurry, like he's in the centre of a Qor'toth fog-storm. Rushing up and catching him before he slams sideways onto the floor, Sebastian straightens his intoxicated partner, peering closely at him. The boy's pupils are huge and dilated, his head is drooping and bangs are hanging in his face which has gone decidedly green.

"You all right, buddy?"

Connor swallows, shutting his eyes. "Maybe I shouldn't have had that Mudsludge."

Brushing Connor's messy hair aside, Sebastian inquires, "Do you need to throw up?"

"No. Yes. I don't know." The kid shakes his head, which is a very bad idea because it makes him even dizzier, and he groans, slumping forward onto Sebastian's chest. "Can you please make your house stop moving?"

"You need to lie down," Sebastian advises, taking Connor by the elbow. "Can you walk?"

The younger one nods shakily. "I think so."

The only way Connor can go anywhere in the state he's in is with Sebastian's arm around his shoulders, propping him up.

"C'mon, little dude," Sebastian encourages, turning Connor in the other direction as he starts to take the wrong route. "Bedroom's down here."

"Not that little," Connor grumbles, letting the other guy steer him along the hallway, the long corridor spinning around him, like he's in one of those disorienting carnival attractions, such as the crazy maze or house of mirrors, every object around him either rolling or in triplicate.

Giddy and nauseated like he's never felt before, Connor stumbles, instinctively reaching out to steady himself but lacking the control he usually has only ends up putting his palm right through the wall with a loud crunching sound and a puff of plaster dust.

"Crud," he mutters, extracting his hand out of the gaping hole and shaking the white fragments away. "See, this is why I shouldn't drink or do drugs."

"Yeah, I probably should have listened to you," Sebastian relents, understanding now how hazardous things can get with a wasted demon hunter on the loose. "I swear, from this day forward you're only getting mocktails. And watch out for the statue. My sister gave me that."

Staggering around the large eagle on the floor that he already tripped over once, Connor clings to Sebastian's strong, sturdy figure, blindly following where he's being led because he can't see shit right now. The relief he gets when Sebastian guides him to the bed is almost overwhelming and Connor gratefully drops onto the mattress, sensing the swirling start to subside behind his closed eyelids. He lets Sebastian move his arms and legs into the right position and feels the first man wedging a pillow under his head and pulling the sheet up over him to waist level.

Switching off the light, Sebastian shuts the door and climbs into the bed next to his non-sober guest. Placing his hand over Connor's forehead, he finds it less clammy than it was before.

"Feeling better?"

"A bit. Thanks." Remorsefully, Connor adds, "Sorry about your wall."

"Don't worry about it, darlin'." Gathering Connor's body closer to his, Sebastian kisses the crown of the kid's head. "Nobody got hurt and that's the main thing."

"Y'know what, Sebastian?" Slurring drunkenly, Connor proclaims, "You're really, really nice."

With an affectionate grin, the twenty-six year old returns, "So are you. I'm glad you tracked me down tonight, Connor. Seeing you again… Greatest thing ever."

"Same here. Are we boyfriends now?"

"I think we are, gingerbread. You all right with that?"

"Course." Smirking lopsidedly in the dark, Connor adds, "Angel's gonna freak when I tell him, though."

PART SIX.

It's much later and Connor is asleep. Well, after all that exhaustive shagging on the couch he ought to be but he hears something, jolting awake and instinctually grabbing the first solid object within reach; a wooden lamp on the small table beside the bed, holding it up like a weapon. He peers into the darkened room with his nocturnal vision and sees Sebastian standing near the doorway.

"What's going on?" Connor urges, ready to attack and destroy.

"I'm just getting up to take a piss." Arching him an amused glance, Sebastian says, "You can put that down now."

Connor stares at the lamp in his hand and then slowly replaces it beside the bed, looking embarrassed. There are millions of noises in the world that his hyper-sensitive ears pick up: cars going past, cats fighting in the street, trees rustling, cockroaches scuttling, clocks ticking, taps dripping. He can block most of them out, usually only listening for sounds of imminent danger such as dogs barking, footsteps, creaking floorboards, breaking glass, locks being forced, objects being moved. Those kinds of sounds filter in and warn him, even when he's fast asleep.

And so does someone simply climbing out bed, it appears.

"Thought we had an intruder," he explains abashedly.

"Sweetie, I know you're in the habit of being all watchdog 24-7 but you don't have to be here. My high-tech alarm system kicks in as soon as the garage door is shut. Ain't nobody or nothing getting in here without us knowing about it," Sebastian assures him. "So you can relax, okay? It's gonna be a long sleepless night if you keep springing into action every time I roll over."

"Sorry," Connor mutters, groggily scratching at his head. "I guess I'm just not used to sleeping with anybody else."

"Well, get used to it, boyfriend, because you're gonna be doing that a lot." Sebastian teasingly winks at him before making his way down the hall.

After he leaves the room, Connor settles back down under the covers, quite okay with being Sebastian's frequent bed buddy. Relaxing much more now that he knows there's security installed, he yawns and wriggles further into the comfortable mattress, stretching his legs out between the crisp sheets. He's still half-drunk but he's past that needing-to-hurl stage and has reached the sleepy, contented stage so he presses his face into the pillow, breathing in the homey fragrance of apple fabric softener and the salon-fresh scent of Sebastian's hair. It's so warm and cosy and quiet here and soon his eyelids drift closed. He's not awake when Sebastian returns but somehow, Connor knows he's back and reaches out to him, curling his fingers protectively around the older man's wrist, as if he doesn't want Sebastian to leave again. Feeling truly blessed to have his blue-eyed boy finally back beside him where he belongs, Sebastian lays his hand lovingly upon Connor's smaller one and it's not long before he joins his snoozing companion in the realm of dreams.

It is near dawn and the room is bathed in grey light when Connor is roused from his deep slumber.

"Hey." Sebastian nudges him from behind. "You awake?"

"Am now," Connor returns yawningly, reluctant to get up at this early hour. Even though he isn't like his parents, he still has the sleeping patterns of a vampire. He sluggishly rolls over to see Sebastian sitting up in bed with a worried expression. Instantly alert, all traces of sleep vanish and Connor draws his brows together in concern.

"What is it?"

"I don't know." Sebastian shakes his head helplessly, black curls tumbling around the sides of his face. "I was hoping you could tell me."

The older male pulls the blanket aside, anxiously glancing down at himself. His normally tight wash-board stomach is bulging and swollen. As Connor stares at it in shock, Sebastian's rounded belly undulates, small bumps appearing and disappearing under the skin as something moves inside of him. Or slithers.

His whole body going cold with paralysing horror, Connor whispers, "God, not again."

"What did you do to me, Connor?" Sebastian's voice is edged with stark panic, his face filling with sudden terror. "What the fuck did you do to me?"

For the second time that morning, Connor jolts in bed, his eyes flying open, wide and wild, his heart hammering and skin slick with sweat. He gets a further fright at the figure looming to his right but it's just the cardboard Terminator cut-out, gazing impassively at him through dark sunglasses. The only sound is the LP clock ticking on the wall. Connor quickly turns to find Sebastian lying on his back with one arm above his head, eyes closed and cheek pressed into the pillow, breathing deeply and peacefully. Relief rushes through the boy's veins like morphine as he realises he was only dreaming.

It wasn't real.

Still, with his track record he has to be absolutely sure. With shaking fingers he lifts the sheet rumpled around Sebastian's waist, giving a silent prayer of gratitude when he sees that the twenty-six year old's abdomen is perfectly flat and level, the only thing beneath the skin being hard muscle. Letting out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, Connor swings his legs over the side of the bed, pushing stringy perspiration-soaked bangs out of his eyes.

Just a nightmare. He hasn't had one of those in a while. Didn't miss them much, either. But that's all it was - a bad dream.

Having gotten very familiar with all things demonic, Connor knows that with some species the male is the one to carry and deliver spawn, just like seahorses. It is common for human females to be impregnated by male demons but not the other way round. As far as he is aware, it is impossible for men in this dimension to bear offspring; human, demon or any other variety. Sebastian is safe. It won't happen to him. Connor's smart enough to realise that the nightmare was just a manifestation of his own fears and his own past experiences. Nothing more. However, it has left him with a feeling of dread, like it was an omen, as if things are not going to bode well for him and the other man if he stays here.

No matter how awesome last night was.

Connor's super-efficient metabolism has processed the alcohol in his system, filtering it out, neutralising it, leaving not even a trace of a hangover, but he still remembers what happened. In excruciating detail. Last night, he said and did such filthy things that thinking of them he feels his face heat with shame. He was acting like a total slut. He allowed Sebastian to do stuff to him that if anyone else tried would result in their arm getting ripped clean off but he let it happen because it was exciting and new and yeah, it felt incredible. Every bit of it. Immersed in the flush of drunken desire, in the rawness of male sexuality, Connor was so free, so uninhibited. The words that came out of his mouth at one particular point were obscene and pornographic yet he loved saying them. When he took Sebastian's body and all but broke it with violent lust, Connor experienced true, consuming passion and it was invigorating, made his blood run hotter than the lava pits of Qor'toth. Making Sebastian cry out with pleasure made him feel more alive, more masculine and powerful than any amount of killing and hunting has ever done.

And afterwards, when they were lying together on the floor talking, he felt so close to Sebastian, closer than Connor's been with anybody. He felt emotions he's never felt before and admitted private feelings he wouldn't have dared to with anyone else. He did that because he believed he and Sebastian actually had something together. Something good. Something strong. Something comforting and nourishing that made living in this place feel less callous and brutal.

He saw a future with Sebastian.

But now, in the sober, too-bright light of morning, that idea seems ridiculous and absurd. It's as though the previous evening was a rose-tinted fantasy, like it wasn't true, as though everything he felt was only what he wanted to feel. Last night Sebastian showed him such aching sweetness and heart-stopping ecstasy but Connor can't be touched by heaven like that without doubting the validity of it, of his own wretchedly high expectations. It's like he's waiting for the minute that he snaps out of it, when he realises that it's not reality and nothing in the world is the way it ought to be. His entire existence has been filled with moments of sheer joy followed by moments of utter misery. Every time he thought he found happiness it turned to ash around him, like the way he emerged from his own mother's womb. Why should this experience be any different? In the far reaches of his soul Connor has this unwavering belief that he can't ever be truly happy. It's just not something he's meant to have in this dimension, or any other. Instances like these are a cruel tease, a joke being played on him by powers unknown and unkind.

He's not good enough for Sebastian Christensen. He never will be. Once Sebastian learns about the horrible things he has done, he will abandon Connor, leave him; betray him, just like everyone else. The auburn-haired teenager sits on the side of the bed, staring blankly at the floor, so bitter with himself and his miserable, shitty life that he can taste it in his mouth like acid. With unpleasant clarity, he remembers every single time that someone has betrayed him or lied to him or deceived him. He remembers every single hurtful word ever spoken to him, every stab in the back, every slap in the face, every time his heart has been ripped out and stomped on like a piece of raw meat. And Connor is not going to wait around for that to happen again. He doesn't want to leave the warmth and comfort of Sebastian's bed but he knows it will only be a matter of time before the other man does something bad to him. They always do. Everyone he ever cares about ends up screwing him over and he's tired of it, of being used and treated like crap, like his feelings are insignificant and unimportant.

Like HE is insignificant and unimportant.

Being with somebody if they make him feel like that? So not worth it. He may as well be alone. Like usual. The thought of going out the door and never coming back is tearing him up inside but he knows he has to go now, before the pain overcomes him. Emotions are useless; they expose his weaknesses, they make him susceptible to suffering and torment and he's had enough of that in his eighteen years of living. He has to be tough. He has to shield himself. He needs to shove his fucking feelings into a one-way portal, send them back to somewhere bottomless and dark like Qor'toth because he sure as hell doesn't need them here.

All those things that used to define Connor – resentment, hatred, hostility – those are tolerable emotions and he lets them return, lets them engulf him in a sour, choking swamp, knowing that it will make it easier for him to do this.

To walk away from the most amazing night he's ever had and the most amazing person he's ever met.

To walk away from Sebastian Christensen.

As he's willing himself to get up and get dressed, Connor senses the older male stirring behind him and silently curses his own procrastination. He should have left long before Sebastian woke. Now there are going to be questions. He's really not in the mood for those.

"Hey, beautiful. For a moment there I thought I dreamed you up," Sebastian softly greets him, sleepy eyes lingering over the white curve of Connor's back. "Only difference between this and every other morning is that you're actually here. It means a lot to me that you stayed."

Connor doesn't answer or look at him, just closes his eyes and leans forward slightly as a terrible, wrenching nausea twists his gut.

"You feeling okay?" Sebastian sits up, concern clear in his words. "You're not still sick, are you?"

"I'm fine," Connor says in a short tone, knowing his unsettled stomach has got nothing to do with the vodka he drank last night. "I have to go now."

"Already?"

As Connor reaches for his clothes, which have been thoughtfully left beside the bed, he states impatiently, "Vamps won't stake themselves. Daylight is the best time to do it, when they're weak. You know that."

"Forget the vamps. They'll still be there tonight," Sebastian pronounces, touching his arm as Connor lifts off the mattress, pulling up his jeans. "Don't go."

Connor zips his fly and sits there tensely, wanting to shove Sebastian's hand off. "Why not?"

"Because I want you to stay." Kissing Connor's bare shoulder, Sebastian murmurs persuasively, "And because I love you."

"Don't!" Connor snarls, violently pushing Sebastian away and leaping off the bed in one motion, glaring down at the older man with rage, hating him at that moment. "Don't you say things that aren't true! I'm sick of people lying to me!"

Drawing the sheets into his lap, Sebastian hastily vows, "Hey, I'm not just saying it because of the sex. If that was the case, I would have said it last night before we even did it. I got no reason to shit you, okay?"

"You're human. Humans are full of shit. All of you!" Connor blazes, lashing out with one thin arm and knocking a bunch of unlit candles off a shelf, sending them crashing noisily to the floor. Sebastian doesn't flinch at the sudden display of anger or show any fear because he knows that's what the boy wants him to do.

"I may be human but I'm not like them," Sebastian says firmly. "I'm different. You know I am. You know I speak the truth."

"Right. Yeah. Of course you do," Connor returns caustically. His walls of defence securely erected back up around him, he jabs an accusing finger at the dark-haired figure sitting on the bed. "You must think I'm dumb, Sebastian. How many other people have you said that to, huh?"

Endeavouring to calm the teenager down, Sebastian's words turn softer and more convincing. "Connor, this is not something I say lightly. I know you've been hurt before but you have to believe me when I swear that I won't do anything like that to you. All I want to do is be with you. That's it."

"That's it?" Connor exclaims, squinting in disbelief at the other male. "You hardly know me at all. And I'm nothing like you. Why would YOU want to be with somebody like me?"

"Look, I realise that we're polar opposites and that we've only been together twice but I haven't been able to get you out of my mind," Sebastian proclaims, trying to push past the youth's self-confidence and trust barrier. "I've loved you from the time I woke up in your bed with a bandage on my head. When I saw you sitting on the windowsill…you were the most gorgeous thing I've ever laid eyes on. You still are."

"No!" Connor shouts vehemently. "You can't love me. You can't!"

Perplexed by the waif's abrupt reaction, Sebastian questions, "Why's that?"

"Because I'm bad." Connor says this through gritted teeth, turning his back.

"What are you talking about? Do you mean the half-demon thing because that doesn't even matter -"

"I'm not talking about that," Connor slices in irritably. "I'm talking about the things I've done in the past. You have no idea how bad I've been. Or how fucked up I was."

"C'mon. We all make mistakes, pet," Sebastian answers coaxingly. "We've all done things we regret. But you can't keep beating yourself up over them."

"Oh, yeah?" The teen focuses on Sebastian challengingly, blue eyes afire. "Have you ever sliced anyone's ear off and kept it for a trophy? Have you ever punched a good cop in the face over and over again because he wasn't home with his family? Have you ever held a knife to an innocent woman's throat just because you thought she was evil?"

Sebastian slowly shakes his head, realising that Connor's regrets are a lot bigger and more complex than his.

"Have you ever wished your dad was dead? Ever tried to stake him in the heart?"

Haltingly, the older male shakes his head again.

"Well, I have," Connor states in a blunt manner. "After I tore my way out of Qor'toth, that was the first thing I did. But I failed. He was too quick, always anticipated my attack. So, I tried a different tactic. I got him to trust me. I got him to show me his moves, how he fought. And then I stunned him with a Taser, locked him in a metal box and sank him to the bottom of the ocean. I left him there to rot for three months."

"Why?" Sebastian whispers in horrified bewilderment. "Why would you do that?"

"I thought he killed the man who raised me. Holtz. He followed me through the portal out of Qor'toth and was staying in a motel. The last time I saw him he was lying dead on the ground. There were two puncture wounds on his neck, like a vampire bite. I immediately blamed Angel." A muscle tics in Connor's hardened jaw. "I was wrong. It was a woman with an ice pick, some friend of Holtz's. She lied to me. She told me Angel bit him and I believed her without question. I believed a stranger over my own father."

Looking away, the eighteen year-old continues purging his sins, self-loathing in his tone.

"Holtz always told me that my real father was a monster, a beast, an evil being with no soul. But Angel never did anything bad to me. He gave me a place to stay, gave me food and clothes, anything I wanted, and I threw it all back in his face. I turned on his friends when they had done nothing wrong. They took care of me as though I was family and I treated them like dirt."

Flashbacks of sweet, gentle Fred fill his head. The way she would be so patient and understanding towards him regardless of his bad moods and disobedience. The way she always defended him when Gunn was about to snap his neck. The way she'd smile when she bought him baloney sandwiches (no tomato) and milk.

The way she cried out in pain when he cruelly zapped her.

He shuts his eyes tight, trying to block the images.

"When they found out what I had done to Angel, they attacked me, tied me to a chair. Made me wait for him to get back. He was starved and weak when he got rescued from the ocean but he could still overpower me. He threw me against the wall. Kicked me out of his home. I had nowhere else to go and had to sleep on the street like a stray dog. But I deserved it."

Connor sinks onto the end of the bed and draws his knees up to his chest, hugging his legs in a self-protective manner and focusing on a spot on the wall.

"Soon after that, I slept with the woman Angel loved. I'd always wanted her and I wanted to make him jealous. When Cordy seduced me I didn't even try to say no."

Sebastian recognises that as the name of the chick who used to stay with Connor, the one he had an obvious crush on.

"I thought she loved me. But it…ended…badly," Connor falters, not ready to tell the whole horrific story about Cordelia getting pregnant to him and giving birth to an insane demon goddess with maggots where her eyes were supposed to be, Cordy subsequently slipping into a coma from which she never returned. He will tell Sebastian about it one day but not yet. It's still too soon.

"A lot of stuff happened," he says evasively, "but in the end I betrayed Angel. For her, I was willing to let my father and all his friends die. Hell, I was going to be their executioner. They got away but Angel punished me for it. He was so angry at me, madder than I've ever seen him. He hit me until I was bleeding and unconscious, left me lying on the road for dead. And once again, I totally deserved it."

The frail teenager lays his head on his knees, the agony in his soul showing in the lines of his face and coming through heavily in his words.

"It's not just what I've done to my father. I've hurt people, people who didn't deserve it. Once, I held a department store full of civilians hostage and tried to blow them up with bombs I had made. There were women, children; the elderly. Angel prevented me from doing it but I was prepared to kill them all. And myself."

"Jesus Christ," Sebastian breathes, his throat choking up and his chest splitting in two at the thought of his beautiful boy in so much distress and anguish.

"Oh, I've done even worse than that," Connor grates out, thinking of the innocent blonde girl he dragged off the streets so Cordy/Jasmine could sacrifice her for the birthing ritual. Connor didn't slash that girl's throat with a meat cleaver but he may as well have. He stood there and let it happen right in front of him. And then he dipped his hand in her still-warm blood.

"God, I've done some terrible things." In a tortured whisper, Connor finishes, "No wonder nobody likes me."

Seeing that Connor is profoundly sorry for what he has done, Sebastian shifts closer on the bed, laying his hand caringly on the boy's shoulder. "I like you, babydoll," he says, heart aching for Connor's torment. "I don't care what you've done in the past. I'm not going to judge you for things that happened way before we ever met."

Lost in his own hopeless despair, Connor doesn't even try to object or push him aside, doesn't even look up, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Whatever you did back then, you're not like that now. You save people, Connor. You saved ME," Sebastian emphasizes. "I know you're not a bad person. You're just a sensitive boy who has been confused and traumatised. It's not surprising considering where you grew up. I can't imagine what horrors you went through on Qor'toth. Or even here in Los Angeles. You've had a tough life, kiddo, but you've survived and become stronger because of it."

"I'm not strong," Connor says dully, turning his face inward, his hair falling over his eyes, hiding them from Sebastian's kind gaze. "At least not on the inside."

"Yes, you are. I can see it." Sebastian squeezes Connor's upper arm. "I see a young man who is bold and smart and fearless. I see a young man that is brave and beautiful and passionate. I see a young man that I love."

"You can't love me," Connor repeats brokenly, on the verge of breaking down completely. "I don't deserve love."

"Yes, you do. You deserve it. And I'm going to give it to you no matter how much you protest."

"But…"

"Shush," the older male interjects. "I know you're not used to this, to someone caring about you but I do. I know you haven't had much of a real family but I could be your family, Connor. It doesn't have to mean related by birth or blood. Family means someone who loves you, who wants to share things with you and that's me. I can be everything you've ever wanted, sugar. I can be not only your lover but your best buddy, your protective older brother, your crazy cousin and partner in crime. You know what I mean? I can look out for you but I can still have fun with you."

He speaks enthusiastically and earnestly, envisioning their future.

"If you want to get a tattoo or get a body piercing, I am totally there with you. I'll teach you how to ride a motorcycle and you can teach me how to do that cool jumping-off-the-wall thing. I'll take you places; the theatre, rock concerts, basketball games, Disneyland - anywhere you want. When I travel overseas for work, I can take you with me; to Italy, to London, to Paris. Imagine; we can dust some French vamps and then climb the Eiffel Tower after dark! The view is just incredible, Connor. Even better than you see in movies."

Sebastian pauses to take a breath.

"I can show you that, babe. I can show you the whole world. We can have the greatest time ever; do all those things you never got to do growing up. And we can do it together. Doesn't that sound awesome?"

Connor wants to say, "Yes. Oh yes, please, it does," but he's also afraid of trusting the other man's fantastic promises in case he gets let down again. It's happened too often to him in years gone by but this time he would really like to believe it. On his mother's cursed name, he really would.

"Even if," he mumbles. "Nothing ever works out the way it's supposed to. People never do what they say they will. Everything gets screwed up in the end."

"This won't. And when I say I'm going to do something, I damn well do it." Sebastian's tone is determined and certain. "This could work between us, all right? You just gotta be positive."

"It's hard to be positive when people in my life keep leaving. Or dying," Connor says bitterly. "If I were you, Sebastian, I'd think twice about being with me. I'm bad luck to be around."

"Bull shit. You're not bad luck; it's this dangerous fucking place we live in," Sebastian chides. "I fully realise what I'm getting into and I'm willing to stand by your side and fight along with you when I have to. I want you, Connor. Demons and all."

"Yeah, until you change your mind." The muttered reply is flat and discouragingly negative. "I should just go now. Saves you having to do it later."

Remembering Emel's advice; that Connor would try and push him away, Sebastian returns sympathetically, "I get that you've been through a lot in your past. I get that people have wounded you, okay? And it kills me what they've done to you. But you can't let that stop you from moving on. Like I said before; I'm not them. I'd never do anything to hurt you. Not in a million years."

"What if I don't want to move on?" Connor counters. "What if I don't want to be in a relationship with you?"

"That's not what you said last night," Sebastian pointedly reminds him. "And don't tell me you were drunk and didn't mean it because we both know you did."

There's no response, Connor having given up protesting in favour of withdrawn silence, hoping Sebastian will leave him be. Not quitting yet, Sebastian leans closer to the emotionally damaged teenager, speaking softly into his ear.

"I know you're scared of letting me in but you don't have to be. You don't have to feel sad or frightened or alone anymore. I'm here for you now and if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making you happy. You just need to give me a chance. Please, darlin'. Let me love you. That's all I ask."

At the older man's simple and honest plea, Connor's deep-rooted resistance finally starts to thaw. Timidly, he peeks through the locks of his auburn hair. "Do you really mean it?"

"I would do anything to prove how much I mean it. If I could take my heart out of my body and give it to you still beating, I would," the twenty-six year old pledges, flattening his palm against his own chest as deep, sweet emotion floods behind his ribs, almost painful in its intensity.

"Because it's yours, kitten. Even if you don't want it, it's still yours." Sebastian's voice cracks and he swallows, close to tears now. "Even if I never see you again, this broken heart of mine will remember you forever."

Sebastian's moving admission melts away the rest of Connor's defences and he uncurls from his huddle, straightening and lifting his head, beseeching the other male, desperately needing assurance and acceptance.

"Tell me again."

Sebastian doesn't have to ask what he means. Taking the boy's elfin face in his hands, he whispers, "Connor…my baby boy… I love you with all my soul." He gently presses his lips to Connor's brow. "I love you." Kisses the tip of his nose. "Love you." The teenager closes his eyes and Sebastian kisses them too. "Love you, love you."

By the time he gets to Connor's rosebud mouth and presses his own tenderly against it, Sebastian can feel the younger one's lip trembling and he pulls back to search those vulnerable blue orbs, Connor looking at him with mingled hope, fear and trust.

"Do you believe me now?" Sebastian inquires, letting Connor see into the very depths of his spirit, not holding back anything, the immeasurable and powerful feelings he has for the other boy completely open in his green gaze. "Do you believe I am telling the truth? Do you believe that I love you?"

"Yes," Connor breathes, a single crystal drop of saltwater falling from his lower lashes and sliding down his pale cheek as all of Sebastian's emotions rush into him like energy, filling his soul with pure white light and incredible joy, healing the old scars on his heart. He can't help softly crying as Sebastian places little kisses all over his face, all the while telling Connor how beautiful he is and how Sebastian will never leave him, will always be there for him no matter what. Not able to describe how wonderful it is to be so cared for, so loved, Connor slings his arms around Sebastian's neck and presses a hard, wet kiss to the other man's lips, saying without words that he feels the same way too. With that simple yet heartfelt expression of his own emotions, Connor leans into Sebastian's solid chest, wanting to be held. As the second man's strong arms coil securely around his small frame, making him feel like the most cherished person in all the worlds, Connor manages to smile through his tears, thankful that he is not like his father or else this moment of perfect happiness would be ruined by him vamping out and going all bitey. Instead of that happening, Connor lets himself be drawn back down to the mattress with Sebastian who pulls the blankets up over them both, the older male enfolding him against his broad chest. While Connor listens in wonder to Sebastian's steady, soothing heartbeat, the two lovers rest in each other's arms, safe and content, the evil of this planet forgotten in their warm, close embrace.

PART SEVEN

Following the intensely emotional confessional where Sebastian finally made Connor believe that he's not evil and does deserve to be happy, the new couple doze for a little while and this time, Connor doesn't have any nightmares. He's got no reason to now. Even when he's asleep he can feel Sebastian there beside him, hugging him, protecting him, loving him, and it gives the eighteen year old a sense of security he's never had before. In the past, he's always protected himself. Taken care of himself. Slept by himself. Been alone.

Well, not anymore. Just knowing that somebody wants to be with him is the most incredibly comforting thing ever.

After an hour or so, the younger male and the older one wake up absolutely ravenous. Sebastian hasn't eaten since yesterday midafternoon, before he got dressed to go out on the date he never made it to and his stomach is feeling it.

"Man, I'm starving," he declares, stifling a yawn. He looks at Connor, still cradled to his chest. "Are you hungry, babe?"

"I'm always hungry," Connor confirms, sitting up in the bed and stretching his long, shapely arms over his head. Last night he had those two chocolate bars and the box of Turkish Delights but they didn't make much of a dent in his appetite. No matter what time of the day it is, he's always keen for food.

"I'll make you breakfast. Or more like brunch since it's eleven o'clock already," Sebastian offers, getting up and holding his hand out to his teen partner. "How does egg-white omelettes with mushrooms, peppers and spinach sound?"

Connor takes Sebastian's assistance to stand. "Sounds healthy."

"Life of a model," Sebastian sighs, rummaging in his drawer for a clean pair of boxers. "Gotta watch what I eat. I'll put bacon in yours, though."

Pulling on his t-shirt, Connor quips, "What, think I'm too skinny?"

"Never said that." Sebastian yanks on a pair of weathered indigo jeans and grins. "In fact, didn't I make a point last night of highlighting all the bits I love about you?"

Grinning back, Connor clearly remembers Sebastian kissing each and every one of them. And then some. "Yeah. Point taken."

Clad in just his boxers and the designer jeans, the same ones he modelled in that glossy advertisement, Sebastian grabs an elastic band from the top of his dresser and looking in the mirror, he smooths his unruly hair back into a pony tail with both hands, Connor standing behind him and watching the muscles in the taller man's arms and shoulders bunching as he does so, the Arabic tattoo he got in Connor's honour scrolling across his lower back in ebony swirls and contrasting superbly with that smooth, bronze skin of his. The jeans sit below his waist, drawing the eye to his chiselled hip-line, the faded dark blue denim skimming over his perfectly firm ass and outlining the strong shape of his thighs.

Connor can't believe he scored all that hotness as his lover. How damn lucky is he?

"I can feel you looking." Sebastian twists the band around his gathered curls and pulls them through the loop, turning around with an amused expression. "Not that I mind."

Connor shrugs embarrassedly. "Well, you're hot."

People say that to Sebastian all the time and honestly, it gets boring, but when it comes from Connor it's a thrill to hear. Because unlike most people, Connor digs who he is as a person as well and doesn't think of Sebastian as simply a good-looking clothes horse.

"Still just want me for my body?" Sebastian can't help teasing as he slips on a green checked shirt with roll-up sleeves.

The auburn-haired teenager continues staring at him but his face is solemn and when he speaks, his voice resonates with seriousness. "Not just for your body."

Also turning solemn, Sebastian queries, "For what then?"

Stepping up to him, Connor lays his hand on the bigger male's chest, right over his heart. "For this. You gave it to me," he reminds quietly. "I won't break it, Sebastian."

"Oh, sweetie," Sebastian whispers, pulling Connor in and pressing his lips to the boy's temple. "You keep saying things like that and I'm gonna have to undress you again, take you back to bed and make love to you for the rest of the day."

"You can if you want," Connor whispers back. "I'll let you."

Drawing back to look at the demon hunter in surprise, Sebastian asks, "Really? You'd actually want me to do that? Be on top?"

Connor gives him a nod, gazing up with open and honest blue eyes. "I trust you. I know you won't hurt me."

"Like I could anyway," the taller one comments, repeating what Connor said to him only a few hours ago. He caresses Connor's cheek with gentle fingertips, smiling at his gorgeously trusting young partner. "I'll definitely take you up on that, sugar. Definitely. But not right now. Right now I need something to eat or I'm gonna pass out."

Mentioning food makes Connor's own stomach rumble and he smiles sheepishly. "Getting that way myself."

"C'mon." Sebastian tugs at Connor's arm. "I better feed you before you waste away into nothing."

While Connor collects his knife, wooden stakes and other vamp-killing supplies from the lounge room and straps them back onto his ankles, Sebastian starts cooking in the kitchen, playing a Savage Garden CD and singing along as he chops and whisks.

"Come stand a little bit closer, breathe in and get a bit higher. You'll never know what hit you when I get to you…" He can reach all the falsetto notes without even thinking about it, his tone naturally breathy and sexy, much like the Australian vocalist Darren Hayes.

"Ooh, I want you, I don't know if I need you but ooh, I'd die to find out…"

Coming back into the kitchen with its tantalising aroma of frying bacon, Connor remarks, "You got a good voice."

"Thanks." The brunette male smiles gratefully at him. "It's nice to know I don't suck entirely. Oh, before I forget – I have something for you." He hands Connor a CD case.

"Guess who?"

Connor eyes off the cover which is a picture of five cool-looking dudes with rock-star hairstyles sitting on a long couch. Sebastian's mate Oliver is one of them and Sebastian himself is on the end on the line, wearing smoky eye-makeup and a black Michael Jackson hat. He's by far the coolest.

"Your band."

Sebastian nods. "I'm normally bass guy and backing vocals but if you go to track ten, you'll hear more of me crooning." He grins self-consciously. "In fact, I get to do the whole song."

"Thanks," Connor utters, thinking that he's going to put this on as soon as he gets home. "What would you do if your band got really famous? Would you give up modelling?"

"I'll have to give up modelling one day. I'm gonna get too old," Sebastian states nonchalantly, accepting that his job has a use-by date. He's not going to resort to surgery to keep his looks, like everyone else in this town. He likes being silicone-free.

"I love the band and those guys are my best buddies but I'm not counting on us making a lot of money. I'm investing now, while I'm earning good dough so I don't have to worry about surviving later on, when my face starts to sag and I get three chins."

Glancing up at Sebastian, Connor thinks that will never happen to him, not if he takes after his mother who in that photo looks more like his older sister than the woman that gave birth to him. He's got the same skin as her, naturally brown without the need for tanning, and glowing with vitality from the inside. Sebastian may age over time but it's going to be gracefully.

He and Connor sit at the kitchen counter to have their egg-white omelettes which are very tasty, considering they're health food. Even the bacon Sebastian put in Connor's omelette is trimmed of fat, which Connor usually thinks is the best part but doesn't miss today, not with the extra mushrooms, baby spinach and bell peppers to add flavour. The eighteen year old eats the whole lot well before Sebastian does, picking up toast crumbs with a fingertip and licking them off. When Sebastian takes the last piece of mushroom off his fork, they push their empty plates aside to finish up with coffee and fruit juice, Connor choosing a blend of orange and mango.

Stirring synthetic sweetener into his mug of decaf coffee with skim soy milk, Sebastian clears his throat and says, "Connor, I have to tell you something."

"Is it good or bad?" Connor questions warily, always suspicious when people say stuff like that.

"Neither," Sebastian assures him. "It's nothing to worry about. It's just…you know that message wrinkly old Emel gave me? The beyond-the-grave one? It was from my father. He died four years ago."

Connor's eyes widen in shock. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise..." He trails off. Sebastian said his dad wasn't around and there were no photos on the wall but Connor thought it was because they had a bad relationship and didn't talk anymore. Not this.

In a soft voice, he chides, "You should have told me, Seb."

"Yeah, well, I don't like to mention family funerals in the middle of a brilliant night." The older male shrugs. "Kind of puts a downer on it."

"What happened to him?" Connor presses, needing to know the whole story now.

"I guess I'll start from the beginning," Sebastian says, hands cupped around the hot steaming ceramic mug on the counter top, gazing absently into the latte-coloured liquid. "As I mentioned, my father and I weren't close. He knew from an early age that I was gay and didn't particularly like me being queer but he tolerated it. As long as I didn't bring any boys home, he left me alone. His way of dealing with it was to pretty much ignore me. Mom was great, though. She was always extremely supportive and I could talk to her about anything – my boyfriends, the first time I ever kissed anyone, the night I lost my virginity. She never judged me. She wasn't just my mom; she was my closest friend. Still is."

Connor listens to the tale intently; his head tilted slightly, glass of juice momentarily forgotten about.

"I was always into fashion and shopping and when I was sixteen an agent came up to me in a mall and offered me my first catwalk job. I was excited about it and so was my mother. However, dad didn't like that idea. He didn't want any son of his flaunting his body in front of the public. That wasn't a job to him; it was an embarrassment and I was already enough of an embarrassment to him. In his eyes being a male model was no better than becoming a porn actor. He called me some terrible names."

Frowning in remembrance, Sebastian's fingers tighten around the mug. Connor doesn't ask what those names were. He can well imagine.

"I said some things back. There was a huge fight. My mom told him to get out and threw his clothes on the sidewalk. They divorced soon after. I know it wasn't my fault; they'd been fighting a lot and I guess that was the last straw. Mom adopted Kailee soon after and raised us on her own. I didn't talk to my father after he left. Not once. He married some other woman, a rich horse breeder, but I wasn't invited to the wedding. I wouldn't have gone anyway," Sebastian proclaims bitterly.

"A few years passed and I found out that dad had developed liver cancer. He asked to see me but I thought it was only to tell me that he was cutting me out of his will. I didn't care. I didn't want any of his money anyway. By that time my career was taking off and I was able to help my mom out – I bought her a new house and car and helped my sister open her own restaurant. I didn't want or need his help, not for anything. When my father died I thought about not going to the funeral but in the end I did. It was only there that I found out the reason he wanted to see me. His wife said that he wanted to patch things up with me. To make peace and apologise for what happened. And I didn't give him a chance to."

Sebastian goes quiet, still staring into his coffee, recalling what Emel said about his father being proud of him in the end. "Aw, fuck," he suddenly mumbles, wiping the tears from his cheeks that appeared out of nowhere.

"You okay?" Connor gently queries, touching Sebastian's arm in concern.

The older man shakes his head, swallowing hard. "As you can see, Connor," he says in a tight voice, "no matter what our fathers say or do to us, we still love them. You're lucky that your dad wants to make things right with you while you still have time. Mine didn't. He left it too late. We both did."

He looks up with tear-stained green eyes, imploring Connor to understand why he's revealed this painful story. "I don't want to see you go down that same road, darlin'. I know it's hard but you should try to talk to him. To Angel. You should try to forgive him because you've only got one father and when he's gone you can't say you're sorry. Just think about it, okay?"

Nodding slowly, Connor answers, "Okay. I'll think about it."

Sebastian sniffs and takes a fortifying gulp of coffee. Totally changing the subject, he says, "I suppose I should take you home, huh? I'm sure you have things to do. Or kill."

"Yeah. I'm going to trawl the sewers for demons and then I'm going the cemetery at sundown. That's when the new vamps rise out of the earth," the slayer-boy discloses. "Sometimes, there's only one. Sometimes a lot. I like it when there's a lot. Makes it more entertaining."

"I see you've got tonight sorted. What about tomorrow night? What are you up to then?"

"You mean apart from ramming pointy sticks into undead creatures yet again?" Connor lifts a careless shoulder. "Nothing much."

"Want to have dinner with me?"

"Like a date?"

Sebastian manages to smile at that. "Yeah. Like a date. You eat Indian food, right?"

"I eat any food. Oh. Except for raw tomatoes," Connor amends, making a face of revulsion. "I think it's the jelly stuff inside that turns me off."

"Well, I don't think there are any raw tomatoes in Indian cooking."

"Sounds good, then," Connor replies agreeably.

"Pick you up at seven? From your place?"

"Okay. You coming on one of your bikes?"

"On the blue one," Sebastian affirms. "That's how you're getting home, too. Unless you'd rather take a bus?"

"Course not." Connor grins in anticipation. "The blue bike is cool."

They finish their beverages and Sebastian forces himself into a lighter mood, trying not to dwell on his late father's emotional message, instead focusing on the good things floppy-eared Emel told him about Connor back in the motel reception, about how they are going to have an exciting life as romantic partners, provided Sebastian doesn't let Connor get away from him. Which he isn't planning to. After everything they talked about last night, everything they confided and shared, Connor is his now, even though he hasn't said he loves Sebastian back yet. It will happen sooner or later; Sebastian is sure of that and is not going to ask for it before Connor is ready. He doesn't want to pressure the kid into saying what are essentially only words. Connor staying the night with him, opening up and showing his vulnerable, wounded side…that says more than words ever can.

While Sebastian clears their plates away and rinses them in the kitchen sink, Connor makes sure he hasn't forgotten anything or left one of his stakes in Sebastian's couch for him to accidentally sit on later. Before they leave, Sebastian brings out his cell phone and snaps a picture of Connor with the camera function.

"Memento," he explains abashedly. "So I can prove to my friends that I'm not making you up. They think you sound too perfect to be real."

Connor smiles and shakes his head. "I'm not perfect."

"You are to me," Sebastian concludes with a grin, slipping into sleazy photographer mode which is easy because he's worked with loads of them. "C'mon, baby. Give me some love. Yeah, that's it."

He takes lots of pictures, not just of Connor but of both of them with their heads together, some of them being silly and sticking their tongues out, some smiling, some more sedate. Even though the vamp-killer doesn't have a cell, Sebastian gives him his number, just in case Connor ever needs to contact him. Hell, he should just buy Connor a phone not only for emergencies but so he can message the kid late at night and wish him sweet dreams. Plus, there's the whole text-sex thing. Yeah, for that reason alone he should get one.

Preparing for the ride home, Sebastian gives Connor a motorcycle jacket; miles too big of course, swamping the boy's petite frame, the sleeves coming to the very tips of his fingers. Sebastian adds an extra-small size jacket onto the mental shopping list along with the cell phone and some leather gloves. Once they both have their jackets zipped up Sebastian gets another one of those elastic bands and ties Connor's long red locks back for him, not wanting that beautiful hair to get all tangled in the wind. That hair is normally hanging in his face but when it's tied back it really shows off the teenager's exquisite bone structure and the fineness of his facial features, the great cheekbones, kissably-pouting red lips, tiny nose and captivating peacock-blue eyes rimmed with long lashes. With all that and his slender, girlish figure he could be a very successful model too, if he didn't prefer sticking to the shadows all the time.

As Sebastian reaches for two helmets, Connor asks, "Do I have to wear one of those?"

"Yes, you do," Sebastian answers firmly, handing a shiny black one to him. "It might not be the law but it's MY law, okay? No helmet, no ride."

"But I don't need it. I got hit by a van once. Didn't get a scratch on me," Connor cheerfully volunteers.

"I know you think nothing can crack this tough little coconut of yours but I'd rather be safe than sorry, all right?" Sebastian stresses. At Connor's doubtful look, he rejoins, "Hey, it's not my riding you gotta worry about; it's all the dickheads in cars who don't look out for bikes. They're the ones who cause the accidents. But this," – he indicates to the helmet – "is just a precaution. I won't let anything happen to you, I swear. I'm a very good rider."

"I'm sure you are," Connor replies assuredly, knowing how good Sebastian is at everything else he does: singing, making cocktails, cooking, kissing.

Sebastian collects his wallet and keys and once in the garage he opens the roller door and pushes the bike outside, starting it and letting the engine warm up. They put their helmets on and do up the chin-straps, Sebastian helping Connor with his since they have to be fastened a certain way to stay secure. Then the twenty-six year old kicks the stand up and swings a leg over his seat, sitting down and balancing the bike between his thighs. Flipping the helmet visor up he turns to pat the seat behind him, indicating for Connor to get on.

"I've never been on a bike before," Connor admits, putting a hand on Sebastian's shoulder and hopping onto the quietly idling motorcycle, finding the foot-pegs and putting his sneakered feet on each one of them.

"You'll get the hang of it," Sebastian assures him, pushing his visor down. "Just lean into the corners with me and-" Here he grabs Connor's arms and wraps them around his waist. "Hold on tight."

The garage door shuts after them and Sebastian changes into first gear, pulling out onto the road. He revs the engine and takes off, not going easy for Connor's benefit but riding as quickly and daringly as he normally does, confident in his own ability to handle such a powerful piece of motorised equipment. Taking the advice given to him, Connor hangs on, feeling the grunt and speed of the machine he's sitting on and getting boyishly excited by it too, pulse racing by the sound of the wind he can hear rushing under his helmet. Also very much a boy who likes toys, Sebastian shows Connor what the bike can do, disregarding the traffic laws and going much faster than is legal, zipping between cars and overtaking slower vehicles, whizzing past them and dodging around them like they are part of an obstacle course. Knowing the streets he's riding on, Sebastian is careful to steer clear of danger zones and keep any eye out for any hazards such as dogs or kids running onto the road or patches of oil that the tyres could slip on. A couple of cars start to veer out into his path, the drivers not seeing the bike in their rear-vision mirrors, but Sebastian is prepared for that, deftly swinging out wide to avoid them. One guy swerves out into the second lane without indicating, almost running his car right into the bike and Sebastian flips his visor up to yell out some choice swear words, giving the driver a gloved finger before speeding away in a streak of electric blue. Not letting that asshole ruin his enjoyment, Sebastian is grinning into his helmet while he shows off his talent as a rider, taking delight in the way Connor's arms get tighter and tighter around his waist with the thrilling pace of the ride, Sebastian finally slowing back to the speed limit before he gets crushed to death with excitement.

Grinning behind his helmet as well, Connor has finally found something that's even more fun than bus-surfing. Sitting on the back behind Sebastian is awesome but he can't wait to learn how to ride one of these things himself. Sebastian said he'd teach him and Connor is good at learning new skills. Maybe Seb will even give him a cycle of his own. Guy's got enough of them to share and anything that can help Connor get from one vamp-nest to another more rapidly can only be a beneficial thing.

Plus it would look super-cool.

Now that the outside world isn't blurring as it's going by, the young demon slayer starts gazing out over the city as it's bathed in the afternoon sun, looking over the endless freeways with their lines of cars, out over houses and pools, hills and shopping malls but having seen it all before Connor ends up laying his head against Sebastian's back and closing his eyes, hugging him and relishing the closeness he feels with his older riding partner. It doesn't matter where they are or what they're doing; being around Sebastian makes Connor feel like this is exactly where he should be.

When they reach Connor's building, Sebastian parks outside and they disembark, removing their helmets, the bigger male leaving his on the seat of the bike.

"So, how was that, kiddo? Fun?"

"Hell, yeah," Connor enthuses, unzipping his jacket. "See that dude that almost hit us? If he did I was gonna smash through the windscreen and stuff him headfirst into his own ashtray."

Sebastian grins at the amusingly violent description. "Told you I was a good rider. I'm used to avoiding assholes like him. Happens all the time."

"Will you teach me? To ride like that?"

"It will be my pleasure to. We can start tomorrow after our date, if you like."

"Sweet," Connor replies eagerly, imagining how wicked he's gonna look – a hunter on a bike. "You want this back?"

Connor is holding out the helmet but Sebastian shakes his head. "Keep it. As well as the jacket. You'll need them for when I pick you up tomorrow."

"Thanks. And thanks for the ride home, too."

"Anytime, sweetpea." Sebastian smiles and tucks a stray strand of hair behind Connor's delicately tiny ear. Like a gentleman, he escorts Connor inside, reaching the ladder that leads up into the kid's second-level apartment. He doesn't pay any rent but it's only because nobody knows he's here. The whole building is vacant, used only for storing unwanted and unused items, though the electricity and hot water are still connected.

"You know, Connor, I used to ride past this place and look up at the window, wondering if you were around," Sebastian confesses, gazing at all the museum pieces and stuffed animals. "Whenever there was a light on, I'd think about coming up to see if you were home. But I never did."

"Don't do that next time," Connor tells him, squeezing his arm. "I don't care how late at night it is. Stop and see me."

"I will. Promise."

Connor balances the helmet on one of the ladder-rungs, turning around to bid farewell to his lover. Not shy about demonstrating his affections any longer, he steps forward and wraps his slim arms around Sebastian's middle, resting his cheek on the taller man's chest, the top of Connor's head only reaching to his chin.

"Thank you for last night," Connor quietly says, not meaning just the sex but for everything else they shared and experienced. "I had a great time with you, Sebastian."

"Even when we were attacked by a stinking coal-monster and I almost peed my pants?"

Smiling, Connor confirms, "Even then."

"In spite of my occasional freaking out, I had a great time too," Sebastian has to admit. "Best night of my life, actually."

"Same."

Not wanting to say goodbye yet, Sebastian hugs Connor tight, smelling his hair as if to sustain himself until they see each other again.

"I'll miss you, boyfriend," he whispers. "Be careful tonight, okay?"

"Okay." Connor tips his face up so he can receive Sebastian's gentle kiss of parting. "See you, Seb."

Sebastian gives his beautiful beau one last soft smooch and then reluctantly releases him, starting to leave, Connor watching his tall figure walk gracefully away towards the entrance. Connor climbs up the ladder and gets as far as the top rung, placing the helmet on the floor and then pausing for a few moments, impulsively sliding back down to the ground floor and calling out.

"Sebastian! Wait!"

At the doorway, the older male turns around, an inquisitive expression on his face as Connor starts to cross over to him.

"Yeah, babe?"

Connor stops. Doing this quickly, before he loses his sudden spike of courage, he swallows and blurts out, "I love you."

He waits nervously, not sure what Sebastian's reaction is going to be or even if he's going to believe Connor since he's never said anything like that before or even hinted at it. For a wordless minute, Sebastian simply stares at him, and then the hugest grin spreads over his face, lighting it up until his green eyes are glowing and radiant. He begins walking back to Connor and then breaks into a run, forking his hands under the kid's arms and picking him up clear off the ground, spinning him around and around in giddy, joyous glee. At the exuberant display of euphoria, Connor laughs, long ponytail flowing out behind him in a red sweep, feeling lighter and happier than he's ever been in eighteen whole years. When they finally stop twirling, Sebastian doesn't let him go, gazing up at the younger boy in adoration.

"You've made my day, babydoll," he gushes. "My absolute fucking day."

Connor smiles down at him, his hands on Sebastian's strong shoulders, enjoying the jubilant, beaming expression on his boyfriend's handsome face. He can't believe he made somebody so happy just by opening his mouth and speaking. Connor is glad he did, though. He's fallen for Sebastian, utterly and totally. Has from the moment he jumped off the rooftop and saw how glad Sebastian was to see him. He probably loved Sebastian even before that. Maybe even from the moment they first met. It doesn't matter when it happened; it's only now that he's been able to speak it out loud. But Sebastian doesn't have to say it back. He's already said it, more than once, and besides, Connor can see the returned affection shining in his eyes, along with sincere thankfulness for being given those three meaningful words.

To Sebastian, Connor's admission of love is a gift, rare and precious. He knows Connor doesn't let go of his heart easily and knowing that he's giving it to Sebastian, just like Sebastian gave it to him, is something the older male will treasure every day of his life. He lets Connor slide down the front of his body, feet not yet touching the floor, just until he can reach the teen's gorgeous crimson lips, covering them with his own. Sebastian kisses him deeply and sweetly, pouring all his emotion into it, Connor slipping his arms around Sebastian's neck and kissing him back with equal sweetness and warmth. This kiss is different to any they have given each other; not a prelude to passion but a pledge of faithfulness, trust, honour and loyalty, as well as the promise of many more action-packed days together and many more nights spent in each other's loving embrace.

"Thank you, darlin'," Sebastian sighs when they eventually break apart. "You saying that? It means the whole world to me."

"You're welcome," Connor returns softly, letting himself be lowered to the ground, arms still around Sebastian's neck.

"Now that we're an official couple and all, do you think you could tell me your last name?" Sebastian suggests. "I can't exactly introduce you to my mom as Connor the Demon Hunter."

"I don't really have one," Connor muses. "Dad doesn't have a surname either. It's a vampire thing." He shrugs. "I dunno, if anything I guess it'd have to be Angel."

"Connor Angel. Sounds like a superhero alias." Sebastian nods approvingly. "It suits you."

"I look forward to meeting your mom. She seems nice. But it might wig her out to learn I'm half-demon. Probably shouldn't tell her that."

"Wasn't planning on it. I'll tell her you're a college student or something."

"Nearly was," Connor reveals, thinking of the amnesia spell he was under once upon a time. "Then I remembered how much I like killing things."

"I guess I better let you go do that, huh?" Sebastian concedes, kissing Connor on the brow. "Love you heaps, sweetie. Have fun at the cemetery. Dust some undead motherfuckers for me, yeah?"

"You bet." Connor grins. "Ride safe. And don't speed."

Sebastian winks over his shoulder as he walks away. "Never do."

Smiling, Connor watches him leave the building and then when he hears the sound of Sebastian's bike roaring off down the road, he scampers up the ladder, gathering his supplies for the night's hunting expedition.

Hours later, Connor is back, having wasted four vamps at the graveyard and three demons in the sewers. All together, a very satisfactory tally. He lights some candles, showers and then puts Sebastian's CD on the stereo as he dries and dresses, liking the hard rock sound of the band. He listens to the first couple of songs and then skips to the track Sebastian told him about, the one where he sings the entire thing. Surrounded by his lover's husky voice, Connor reaches under his mattress and brings out that glossy chick magazine. Flipping through it to his favourite page he finds the picture of Sebastian Christensen, the model, touching it and feeling his heart grow pleasantly warm. After the whole tragic Cordelia episode, rest her soul, Connor never thought he'd be capable of feeling love again. But he is. And even better, the person that he loves also loves him back. He may as well put this magazine away for good and the photograph of Sebastian with it. He doesn't need it anymore. He's got the real thing now.

Right at that moment there is a knocking on the door and Connor swiftly shoves the magazine back under his bed. A visitor. Just like empath Emel forewarned him. It is with no great shock that he opens the door to find a tall, dark figure in a long coat standing there. His father.

Angel.

"I knew it'd be you." Connor eyes him guardedly. "What do you want?"

"I just came to see you, Connor. I haven't heard from you in a while." A mildly worried expression sits on Angel's face. "How are you doing, son? Are you okay? Are you eating enough food?"

"I'm doing just fine, dad," Connor replies scornfully. "In case you've forgotten, I'm not in diapers anymore. I'm quite capable of taking care of myself."

Ignoring Connor's mockery, Angel clears his throat and says, "Of course you are. Look, I just wanted to thank you again for the other night."

He's referring to a bloody battle that he was embroiled in recently. It had been a typical night, at least at the beginning. Angel had been given information about an underground S&M club where human slaves were apparently being kept and sexually assaulted by demons. He had burst into the club with usual dramatic flair to rescue these people when he realised that it had been a trap and there were no humans at all. Only demons, dozens of them, seemingly coming from out of the walls, intent on ripping him to pieces. Someone had set him up and he cursed himself for not being more careful. So, with no other option, he put his game face on and started kicking evil ass. It wasn't the first demon fight Angel has seen and it definitely won't be the last but this one involved a particularly large group of hell-scum and what caught him by surprise was that they had bottles of holy water hidden in their cloaks. He was unfortunately splashed in the eyes with the acidic liquid and went temporarily blind, whirling around in a black daze and losing his sword, feeling the blows of unseen clubs and the stinging slashes of knives on his body. Unable to see and beaten to his knees, Angel actually thought he might not be able to stop them this time.

Until Connor showed up. Angel smelled his son before he saw him; that woodsy wild-forest scent that nobody else in the world has. There was a loud crash as the door of the club was broken down and the demons suddenly stopped attacking him, focusing on a new foe. Blinking, Angel squinted at the silhouette in the doorway until his blurry vision cleared and there he was – a skinny kid with shaggy auburn hair and a huge axe in his small hand. He had that glint of withheld violence in his eyes, that slight snarling curl to his lip, and that was when Angel realised with both alarm and relief that his son had gotten his memory back. The boy, in his usual dry way, had asked if he needed some help and Angel was so happy to see his warrior offspring that he just about cried. Without waiting for further instructions, Connor began swinging his enormous silver axe, mowing down wave after wave of demons, severed limbs and heads flying everywhere, concentrating on only one thing: the enemy. That and protecting his father, who soon grabbed his sword and joined back into the battle. Connor's supernatural strength, equal to or even more than a slayer's, gave him a huge advantage and he clocked up the most kills out of the two of them.

While Angel was busy slicing away with his own weapon, Connor was hacking into the never-ending army of demons like he was trying to make firewood out of them, black fluid splashing onto his pale face which was set in a grimace of savage determination. The teenager was relentless and unstoppable, stunning Angel with his single-minded ferocity, channelling all his rage at the cruel unfairness of the world into killing as many of these evil things as he could, not even seeming to feel pain or fatigue.

Eventually, the last of the demons were taken down or had run away in defeat. Connor only stopped after he'd gone around to all the bodies on the ground and made sure they were dead, coldly chopping the heads off any survivors. Then the two of them limped back to Wolfram & Hart, weary and battle wounded but satisfied in the knowledge that they had done good. With one arm clutching a deep stomach wound, Angel had looked over to his son - who was covered in blood, with bruises and cuts on his face - and felt such overwhelming love and pride. His boy was a champion. Connor was everything Angel had hoped he would be and more. And he was back in the fight.

"I couldn't have done it without you," Angel ends gratefully in the present.

"Sure, you could," Connor drawls. "It just would have taken you longer."

"Well, thanks anyway," Angel reiterates. He flicks his gaze up and down Connor's diminutive form. "You seem to have recovered okay. You look well. Fit and strong and…" He dwindles off in surprise because not only is Connor the picture of perfect health, he almost looks…happy? How can that be? Connor is angst and anger on legs. He's a walking Nine Inch Nails song. He's never happy.

Unless…

A slow look of understanding dawns in Angel's eyes and he allows a small, knowing smile to cross his lips. "So, who is she?"

Appearing genuinely puzzled, Connor asks, "Who?"

"The girl that's putting that glow in your cheeks." Angel nudges him good-naturedly. "Looks good on you."

"I don't have a girlfriend," Connor snaps. "Not that it's any of your business."

"Well, it may not be my business but I can't help noticing those love pheromones floating around you." Angel breathes in through his nose, vampire senses picking up the subtle fragrance. "It's like an exotic type of cologne. Very distinctive."

Startled, Connor glances down at himself, unable to tell that he's giving off a different smell, especially since he's just taken a shower and all he can detect is soap and shampoo. Angel smiles reassuringly.

"Don't worry, son. I won't tease you about it. I'm just glad you've found someone." Excitedly, he pries, "So, what's her name? What's she like? Can I meet her?"

Angel's annoyingly persistent prodding makes rebellious Connor decide to tell the truth.

"Well, actually, she's a dude," the eighteen year-old says boldly. "His name is Sebastian. And he's gay."

After a long pause, Angel utters, "Oh."

Enjoying the shock on his father's face, Connor smirks. "Guess I am now too."

All that comes from Angel is another bewildered, "Oh."

"Are you disappointed in me, dad?" Connor jeers, daring Angel to say something negative. Connor will take any excuse to start a fight with him, even at this early time of the morning.

"No, of course not," Angel hurriedly assures him, thinking of his own centuries-old dalliances with Spike when they were both young and adventurous. "I just…I thought you liked girls."

"I did. And look how well that turned out for me," Connor replies wryly, referring to his failed, disastrous affair with Cordelia, not to mention Tracey, the girl he dated in his other life. He thought that they had been together since junior year but it was just a fabricated memory implanted in his cerebral cortex by an associate of Wolfram and Hart. Tracey was a real person but she was under the same spell that he was. She wasn't really his girlfriend. Neither was Cordelia. Both of those relationships were false imitations of love, not the genuine thing.

"I'm done with girls," he declares disgustedly. "They lie. They pretend to like you but they don't."

"Son," Angel hedges with caution, "you know that wasn't really Cordelia. It was just a thing living in her body. You know that, right?"

"Of course I do," Connor snaps, irritated that Angel thinks he's stupid. "But it… Jasmine…she was still a woman." He looks down, clenching his jaw. "She made me do things…Bad things. She used me. Messed me up."

"She messed us all up," Angel answers grimly, remembering how ethereally beautiful she made herself look, how she covered up her true repulsive form and sweetened her malicious intentions with a kind, loving voice. "She lied to all of us, Connor. But it's over now. She's gone."

Already well aware of that, Connor still feels nauseated thinking about how he put his fist straight through Jasmine's head, his knuckles coming out the other side of her shattered skull with brain matter all over them. However sickening that was, she deserved it. Her love was an evil, terrible thing that could have brought about the destruction of all mankind.

But Sebastian's love is wonderful and pure. He doesn't lie. When he said he loved Connor, it was true and strong. Connor felt it. He still feels it, deep in his chest like a white flame that will never die out.

"Sebastian won't mess me up," he concludes quietly, tucking his hair behind one small ear. "He's different. He's a good man."

"Man?" Angel repeats in trepidation, immediately thinking the very worst scenario a father can think. Grabbing his son's bony shoulders with both hands, he barks, "How old is he, Connor?"

"Why do you care about th-"

Fierce dark brown eyes bore into Connor's alarmed blue ones, cutting off his defensive answer.

"TELL ME!"

Angel's harsh growl frightens Connor a little, though he tries hard not to show it.

"He's twenty six. But I don't see what that has to do with anything," Connor argues, wrenching out of his father's grasp and scowling at him. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Twenty six," Angel says surprisedly, calm once again. He thought when Connor said 'man' he would be much older and much more perverted. Middle-aged men with teenage boys is not something Angel tolerates in the slightest. But twenty six is still young. Twenty six is acceptable.

"Yeah, he's older than me. Big deal," Connor counters. "You were two hundred years older than Buffy."

"Don't bring Buffy into this," Angel threatens, pointing a finger at Connor but his wayward son isn't listening.

"Sebastian accepts me and what I do without question and the best part is: he doesn't care that I have you as a father," Connor flings back.

"So, he knows you're…unique," Angel says carefully. "You told him."

Sounding frustrated, Connor retaliates, "What, am I not allowed to tell anybody who I am now? Am I supposed to be a loner my whole life like you?"

"I didn't say that," Angel objects, stung by Connor's accuracy. "It's just…you can't trust everyone."

"I don't," Connor responds flatly. "I don't even trust you sometimes." He pauses. "But I trust him."

Thinking that this Sebastian guy must be pretty extraordinary for Connor to reveal his darkest secrets, Angel queries, "You really like him, huh?"

"Yeah," Connor says shortly, his eyes glittering dangerously. "I do. Got some kind of issue with that?"

Not wanting to drive the young man away any further than he already has, Angel hold his hands up and hastily replies, "No issue. It's your life. Date whomever you like."

Connor crosses his arms stubbornly over his chest. "Good. I will."

Still in protecting father mode, Angel can't help adding, "But he better not break your trust or else he'll have one pissed vampire kicking down his door. You tell me if he ever hurts you." He looks at Connor with a deadly serious expression. "You come straight to me. Okay?"

Finding Angel's protectiveness highly exasperating yet somewhat comforting, Connor sighs and answers, "Okay. But you don't have to worry about that. He wouldn't do anything bad to me. He's nice." With the way he says that last statement, softly and respectfully, Angel can see for himself that Connor cares a great deal about this man who he is obviously sleeping with.

"And there are not many people in this city who are nice to me. Especially since all my high school buddies have forgotten me." Connor stares down at the floor. "He's the only friend I have now."

"Connor, I'm so sorry about the spell," Angel says in remorse, wishing the whole thing hadn't happened. "I didn't want it to turn out this way. I only wanted you to be happy. I was trying to help you."

"I know you were," Connor mumbles, a moment of something other than annoyance for his father piercing his toughened amour. "And I am happy, dad."

"Are you sure?" Angel questions worriedly. "Because I can try to make that spell again and…"

"No," Connor intervenes strongly. "I don't want to be living someone else's life. That's not me. I'm not some college boy who wears plaid shirts and dreams of being a doctor. I don't heal. I kill." He stands up tall and defiant, concrete purpose in his eyes. "I'm a hunter. That's what I do. That is my reason for being here."

Angel nods slowly, knowing exactly what a momentous choice this is for Connor. "I had to make this difficult decision once too," he confides to his son. "A few years ago a Mohra demon's blood gave me the chance to be human again. I had a heartbeat. I breathed. I could actually bathe in the light of the sun." He sighs deeply. "I could have chosen to live the rest of my life as a mortal and be with the woman that I loved."

"You mean Buffy?"

Nodding sadly, Angel continues. "I could have married her, had children with her, grown old with her by my side. Lord, I wanted to. And now it's too late. Nothing I can do will ever change that. She's got her own life now and it doesn't include me."

At the old pain and regret in his father's face, Connor knows that he loved Buffy a great deal. Probably even more than he loved Cordelia.

"What happened, then?" Connor queries. "Why didn't you stay human?"

"For the same reason you're choosing this path. To fight the good fight." With committed conviction, the dark-haired vampire pledges, "The world needs champions like us, Connor. We can't save everyone but we have to keep trying."

"I know, and I do," Connor agrees with the same amount of dedication. "Despite all the gore and nightly beatings, I'd rather be out here on the streets doing this than getting drunk and going to frat parties. At least what I do here matters. Maybe not to anyone else, but it does to me."

Choking up with emotions at how much his boy has grown, Angel replies gruffly, "It matters more than you realise. You've made the right choice, son. I'm very proud of you."

He makes a move as if to embrace Connor but then suddenly pulls back, awkwardly slipping his hands into his coat pockets, uncertainty in his stance, eyes darting away. With a small shock, Connor realises that Angel is afraid. Perhaps not of Connor, but of doing the wrong thing. The wrong thing? That's something Angel rarely does. He may have thrown his only son out of the hotel and he may have beat him black and blue in the past but Connor knows he had it coming. Like Lorne bluntly said once: he was a little prick. He was selfish and hot-headed, rude and insolent. He didn't listen to anyone; he went and did what he did to Angel without hearing the other side of the story. While he was sealing up that big metal box, Angel was trying to tell him the truth but Connor didn't want to hear it. He just pushed that makeshift coffin over the side of the boat with his father in it and didn't look back. For three months he knew Angel was stuck at the bottom of the sea, slowly going insane with thirst and hallucinations and he told nobody. He lied to Fred and Gunn about his father's disappearence, acting like he didn't know a thing when he knew full well where Angel was. Connor was prepared to leave Angel down there forever and if it wasn't for Wesley dragging him up, he'd still be on the ocean floor watching the fish swim by.

If anyone has ever done the wrong thing here, it's Connor.

As he stands there in the doorway with his dad nervously fidgeting in front of him, complete understanding and empathy comes over Connor and he sees things clearly for the first time. All these negative feelings he harbours towards Angel have not come from anything Angel has done to him. Rather, they come from Holtz and everything he'd repeatedly told Connor throughout that whole sixteen years in hell. When he came out of Qor'toth Connor was so brainwashed by his foster father that he couldn't see the good in Angel, only the evil. He could only see the vampire, not the man.

But Holtz was a man and he had done evil things too. He got his apprentice Justine to slit Wesley's throat and take Connor out of his arms, leaving the English man for dead in the park. Wes was only trying to protect Connor but Holtz stole him away, took him as a helpless baby and disappeared into a nightmarish dimension no boy should ever have to experience. He reared Connor with terrible tales about what his real father was and had done, all the ghastly details. Over and over. He taught Connor how to kill, made him violent, made him full of hatred and anger. And when they came to L.A. Holtz persuaded Justine to stab him twice in the neck to make Connor think that Angel had done it, had fed from him and killed him like the savage beast he was supposed to be. But Angel hadn't done it. Holtz did it. He did all this. He made Connor hate his own father. That's what he planned all along. Connor used to believe that God gave him to Daniel Holtz but he knows now that God had nothing to do with it. It's all Daniel's doing. He had his family taken from him by Angelus decades ago and so decided to make Angel suffer the same fate, even though the vampire had become a protector of innocents, not a killer. Holtz got so caught up in his quest for retribution he couldn't even tell the difference between good and evil anymore.

Connor had always thought that his guardian was perfect and honest and would never lie to him. But he had. In effect, Holtz was no better than the murderous creature he sought revenge on, the creature that no longer existed. All he wanted was to take revenge on Angel. And Connor was just a pawn in that twisted game of justice. He is still angry with Holtz for that but at the same time Connor can't help loving him. Since he had no other father figure but Holtz when he was a child, Connor will always love him in a way but he no longer holds the old man up on a pedestal like he once used to. Holtz was human. He made mistakes. And so has Connor.

Like Holtz, Connor's biggest mistake was believing that Angel and Angelus were the same being. Having met Angelus for himself recently, he now knows this is not the case. Angelus is a brutal, soulless bastard who thinks of nobody but himself and his own sick enjoyment. Angelus is a blood-thirsty psychopath who gets off on torturing others and making them beg. He's the most coldly calculating, vicious creature Connor has ever met. Now, having survived many years in a hell dimension, Connor is not normally afraid of any demon but Angelus is one frightening son of a bitch, even to him. Angelus would dismember Connor in ten different gruesome ways without batting an eyelid. And that's if Connor was lucky.

But the person standing before him tonight is Angel. He may not be human but Angel has a soul, perhaps even more of a soul than some people do. He would never truly hurt Connor. Sure, he has his flaws – like the whole gross drinking pigs' blood thing and the whole spying on Connor from atop a building like a hovering parent thing - but overall he is an honourable and caring individual who only wants to be a good father to his son. Because he's been so misguided and obstinate, Connor hasn't let him be that father. Every time Angel tried to get close to him, Connor pushed him away. He's never fully let Angel in. The heartbreaking story Sebastian told him this morning over breakfast has changed Connor's attitude and he doesn't want to end up in the same sad situation that his boyfriend did. He doesn't want to end up on his deathbed wishing that he could alter parts of his life. He doesn't want to die knowing that he severed the only family ties he had on this earth. He doesn't want to die depriving himself of his father's love, which is what he really needs, deep down. He needs Angel's love and guidance to help him deal with this world. No matter how self-reliant and independent Connor thinks he is, he knows that he needs his dad and has so much more to learn from him. So, to prevent the irreversible father-son breakdown from happening, Connor has to humble himself and take the first step. But where to begin?

Connor's long silence makes Angel feel as though he's overstayed his welcome and he mumbles, "Well, I came to make sure you were all right and you are…so….Okay. Leaving now." As he goes to turn aside, Connor reaches out and grabs his father's arm.

"Don't go."

Stopping, Angel looks up at him, a question in his dark brown eyes.

"I never…um…" Connor halts, trying to word this right. He lowers his lashes and hesitantly begins. "I never told you that I was…sorry. For what I did. To you."

"Connor, you don't have to-"

"Yes, I do," Connor cuts in, bravely meeting his father's gaze in spite of the awful shame he's carrying inside himself. "That night on the boat you said one day I would realise the truth and that I would hate myself for it."

Connor swallows. "Well, you were right."

Angel's paternal instincts make him want to shush his son and hold him close, to tell him that it's okay, that he understands, that he doesn't need to say anymore. But he knows that Connor wants to say it. He needs to say it. So Angel stays silent and lets him.

"Ever since I found out what really happened to Holtz I have been wanting to apologise to you, dad, but I couldn't think of anything to tell you that would make up for what I did." He bites his lip, sorrow and regret in his bright blue eyes. "I still can't. All I can do is say that I'm sorry. I know that's not enough but…but I mean it."

In a pained whisper, Angel tells him, "It's enough."

"And I'm sorry I blamed you for not being there," Connor carries on, desperate to get all this shit out of his system. "I know it's not your fault. Holtz took me away. He kidnapped me. If I could go back and change things…I'd rather have grown up here, with you. You're my real father, Angel. Not him. I know that now. I never -"

"I said it's enough, Connor." Angel's rough voice slices into his child's guilt-stricken babble. "I forgave you months ago. Okay? Now shut up and come here."

He yanks Connor in and hugs him tightly. "It's all right, son," he whispers. "Everything is all right now. Forget the past. We can start over again."

Immensely relieved to hear this, Connor relaxes against Angel, allowing himself to take comfort in being hugged by those big, safe arms, knowing how fortunate he is to have such a tolerant father. And that he actually has a father at all. Holtz may be gone and so is Darla but at least Angel is still here. At least Angel hasn't abandoned him. To know that someone still cares about him despite the massive mistakes he's made makes Connor a grateful boy indeed and he doesn't mind having the breath squeezed out of him by an emotional vampire.

For about ten seconds. Then he shoves at Angel's broad chest and says exasperatedly, "Jeez, dad. You're not gonna cry on me, are you?"

Letting Connor go, Angel sniffs and mutters all macho-like, "I'm not crying. I don't cry. I'm not a crier."

"Whatever," Connor returns, rolling his eyes. Bad ass nightstalker. Right. If only Angel's enemies could see him now. Big baby.

"Listen, I gotta get going," Angel says apologetically. "Sun will be up soon." Just before he turns away, he adds, "It's good to see you looking happy, Connor. I love you."

Connor watches his father lope away, black coat flapping behind him like Batman's cape. On impulse, he calls out, "I'll let you meet him one day."

Angel stops, twisting his head around, eyebrows lifted. "Really?"

"Yeah," Connor replies generously. "As long as you don't scare him off with your angry dad routine."

Smiling, Angel vows, "You got it. Whenever you're ready, son. You know where to find me."

As Angel leaves, Connor's mood lightens, feeling as though he and his father have stepped up a level in the family trust thing. Sometimes, when he's not in evil alter-ego form, Angel can be a really decent guy. Hopefully he will like Sebastian when Connor introduces them. Even if he doesn't, Angel can go stake himself because Connor is still going to date the guy, parental approval or not.

Tomorrow night, before his dinner with Sebastian, he's going to head downtown to spill some demon guts and lop some spiny heads off, getting his kill quota over for the evening. He has to exterminate at least two vamps and/or demons to feel like he's done his job properly.

Just because a boy is in love doesn't mean he's going to go all soft and romantic.

Hell, no.

He is Connor, son of Angel.

And killing is in his blood.

END