A/N: Okay, I am officially an asshole. I am so, so sorry that I haven't updated so long. I'm not even going to go on, because you all have waited so patiently for the next chapter that you just need to keep going. I'm so proud of this piece of shit I just hammered out that I officially dedicate it to my readers, for all of the support, the reads, the reviews.
And speaking of readers, I'm still fishing for reviews here, people! Kudos especially go to RealDarkAngel, a faithful reader who reviews on nearly every chapter, and also to Speedie21, for the same reason – you guys rock!
Distribution – Anywhere and everywhere that you can think of, as long as you tell me where my baby is going before it leaves.
Disclaimer: Why have I included this? Nostalgia for the old days when I thought I needed it in every chapter, perhaps? Who knows? Either way, I would like to say that Joss Whedon is an unparalleled genius – anyone who has seen Buffy or Angel, or read Fray, would instantly agree with me (Fray, which I finally got to read this last weekend after seeing it in a bookstore, kicks major ass for anyone who hasn't read it yet!), and that he owns everything, characters and settings and such, except for my OC's.
So, would everyone like to bow their heads in silence for a moment and pray that someone decides to morph the eighth season comics into a TV season, animated or not? Anyone?
decidedly un-awkward silence ensues as we pray to our various gods
Tear You guys make me feel so nice! So, with all of that out of the way, I am again very proud of this chapter, and am hoping that you enjoy it as well. So, let me end this insanely long Author's Note with a simple drumroll as I present:
the Passion of Angels and Demons
Chapter XIV
The Becoming…
Xander thought that he might just be going a little insane.
It wasn't just one of those errant Xander-babble thoughts that he normally had, it was a clinical observation ('a scientific hypothesis' as Willow would have declared in that I'm not a geek way). Because from the moment that he had awoken, warm and with a sense of well-being that had eluded him for years, snuggled deep into Angelus' arms, things had settled into a routine that he found himself loving. He didn't have any desire whatsoever to leave his cozy little room (no longer a prison), because if he left he would be depriving himself of Angelus, and he was fast finding that that was something he could never, ever force himself to do.
He needed the demon like he needed air, like he needed food. And it was quickly becoming obvious that the vampire knew what was going on in Xander's head…and it was also apparent to Xander, even if it wasn't to Angelus himself, that the vampire enjoyed how much Xander was dependant on him. It was in the little things, like how Angelus was there without fail every time Xander was eating dinner at around four in the morning, and how he would just watch him eat, as if to reassure himself that his boy was eating what his master provided for him. No matter how he liked to stay out to hunt or skulk or do whatever it was vampires did with their spare time, he would be there to watch Xander eat dinner.
Ever since the morning that he'd woken up in the vampire's arms, Angelus had stayed in their room every night, and Xander was fast falling in love with waking up wrapped up in cool vampire snuggles. Little things started to appear in the bedroom, like books that he might actually be interested in, and extra blankets. Xander could even explore the floor of the mansion that his bedroom was located on, as long as it was after the sun had risen and Lucien or Angelus was with him at all times.
This had all been going on for a month, and Xander was indeed going insane. It was the ways that Angelus would just talk to him. He would ask Xander complex strings of questions that Xander could barely keep up with. And they were stupid things, too! What color did Xander like best? What movies did he love to watch? What music did he like? Why? Why did he wear baggy clothes instead of the tight pants Angelus would love to get for him? What did he think of…and on and on and on.
He remembered the night that Angelus had stalked in, with his usual I'm so sexy that I was designed to make Xander's knees do funny things way, and said, "There was a production of Julius Caesar on at the theatre tonight." He'd remarked on this in his abrupt, off-handed way, and Xander had looked up from the book that he'd been reading, trying and failing miserably to pretend that he hadn't been waiting for Angelus to get home for hours. The vampire had given him a small smirk that let Xander know he'd been busted on that front.
"So?" he'd asked, a little defensively.
"I wanted to kill the entire troupe," Angelus had bitched as he tossed his duster off to the side, kicked off his shoes, grabbed Xander without a word and settled him into his lap on the armchair in front of the ever-present fire. Xander hadn't even sighed theatrically like he used to at this treatment; he was used to sitting in Angelus' lap by then (he was really enjoying the extra snuggle time, though he would never admit this even under torture).
"Now, why would you go and say a thing like that?" Xander had inquired, his voice slightly muffled as he snuggled in close to Angelus' chest and inhaled that wondrous, creature-of-the-night and pure sex scent that was his vampire. There was a tang of blood in the shirt, though Xander had refused to think about that. He supposed that someday he might have to come to terms with the fact that Angelus killed every night, but right now, he was getting pretty good at repressing.
"They ruined it," Angelus had said flatly as he wrapped an arm around Xander's body and pulled him close, growling possessively as Xander snugged his face into that lovely spot on his neck where the boy's head seemed to fit in to perfection.
"There wasn't much to ruin, I think," Xander muttered. Of course, vampiric hearing being what it was, Angelus had heard him. This had led to an intense discussion of why Xander did and didn't like plays that he read in English, why he hated school so much, and what teenagers did in school nowadays as opposed to Angelus' youth as a human where you were lucky if your parents knew enough to home school you.
Xander loved talk like this, as all of the little glimpses he was allowed into Angelus' past could lead you to understand why Angelus was the way that he was. Though those times were fleeting in themselves. Xander had learned to enjoy what he got and ignore the rest. Tonight was such a night; Xander had gotten sick of getting drilled on why he thought it would be wrong to kill off Cordelia, and had turned around and snapped "I'm tired of all of these questions! Why don't you let me ask something about you for three hours and see how much you like it!"
"Fire away," Angelus responded calmly, and Xander, flummoxed, sat down on the bed.
"Tell me about when you and Darla and Spike and everyone were together," he whispered. Angelus sighed, sitting down in his customary armchair. It was nearly four in the morning at this point, and Xander was beginning to think that Angelus wouldn't answer him; it was nearly their conjoined bedtime, anyway.
"We were family," the vampire said quietly. He wasn't looking at Xander, and though his raven-black eyes reflected the fire, he wasn't really staring into its depths; he was remembering a long time ago, more than a century before. "There was me and Darla, at first. She taught me everything…well, she tried. She was like a goddess to me; everything that I was hinged on my Sire—but it's like that for all Childers." Though there wasn't much emotion in his voice as he recounted this, Xander had to fight down a pang of wild and irrational jealousy at the thought of how close Angelus had been to his Sire.
"Then we found Drusilla, and she became our daughter. Dru and Darla didn't really get along at first, because she thought Dru came between us—"
"Not to mention she's a complete psycho," Xander muttered, and Angelus jumped, as if startled that Xander was still there. He gave Xander a guarded smile, and in a flash of intuition, Xander realized how much he was baring for him. Angelus was utterly uncomfortable sharing things about himself, but here he was, telling everything to him, as if he were someone that mattered…Xander slowly gave Angelus a small smile, and the big vampire relaxed slightly. He beckoned imperiously, reassuring himself of his mastery, and Xander conceded the victory as he positioned himself back on Angelus' lap.
"Yes, there was that," Angelus murmured softly. Somehow, the intimate whisper that the vampire used now that they were so close was sexier than anything, despite the subject matter of the conversation. "But after we were settled, Dru found little William…" he trailed off again. Xander listened carefully. "But Dru was so addled that she couldn't have possibly taken care of her own Childe, and so I was the daddy of the family…Me and Darla and Spike and Dru…"
"Do you miss it?" Xander asked softly. Angelus sighed slightly, as if wishing that they could change the subject. Xander had a feeling that they were going to change the subject, that the vampire was uncomfortable with sharing about himself, but he didn't care. The fact that Angelus would share even this much with him was somehow precious.
"Sometimes," he said pensively. "But I can't help but be proud of how Spike and Dru turned out without me. I wouldn't have believed it possible that they would be able to care for themselves, but they've done wonderfully," Angelus said with a small smirk. Xander gave him an annoyed look.
"Wonderful, sure, if you count death by hickie a nice way to go," Xander muttered sarcastically. Of course, Angelus heard him. He went oddly still, and Xander peered up at him questioningly. Xander heard the distinct sound of Angelus changing, and suddenly he was on the floor, his back protesting the hard surface as the wind went out of him. Angelus was on top of him, his savage, demonic visage to the fore, vicious yellow eyes staring down at him with an unreadable expression. He opened his mouth, revealing the vicious, jagged fangs, and roared like a lion. Xander squirmed to get away, instinctively bucking to get the predator off of him.
"This is what we are, boyo," Angelus growled, all traces of humanity suddenly gone from his voice. He sounded harsh, cold, his words rendered sibilant as they slid through the fangs. Xander felt the humiliating sting of tears sliding down his face as his tear ducts went into overdrive. He could feel the heat of Angelus' anger, and somehow he was more ashamed of himself for making Angelus angry than he was angry at the overreaction. "This is what I am," the vampire snarled, his face inches away from Xander's own. The harsh, gunmetal smell of blood was really strong now, and Xander felt himself staring pleadingly up at the demon. He could feel things inside of himself shifting again, and he didn't recognize this part of himself. All he could think was Angelus, and why his…was master even the right word? For something this…deep?
"I'm sorry," he whispered. He truly didn't know what else to say.
"Aye, and you should be," Angelus said coldly. "I'll not have you disrespecting my house, ever."
Angelus, for his part, was in a cold fury brought on by frustration, anger…emotions that he couldn't describe and didn't even want to. Ostara. It had all started on Ostara; he was getting dangerously involved in this. What had started out as a power play had turned into an obsession that was starting to spiral out of control. Xander lay underneath him without a clue of his human frailty.
His Cruor Aduro, his boy, his Xander…Angelus leaned down and rubbed his face into the crook of Xander's delectable neck, that wondrous curve where he fit in just right. His fangs itched for a taste, but he kept them away from the skin and from the pulse that was pumping wildly underneath it. It wasn't time yet…but how long was he supposed to wait? he wondered wildly as he desperately ground his raging hard-on into Xander's hip. His boy lay so submissive underneath him, so sweet, his neck bared for his master…
Angelus gave a howl of frustration and threw himself to his feet, away from a very bewildered Xander who still lay on the floor. The confusion was giving way to anger, however; Xander was under a storm of conflicting and confusing emotions and all that he knew he wanted was the psychotic vampire who was now pounding his fists into the metal walls of the bedroom. He clambered to his feet, his fists clenched.
"What the hell?!" he yelled. Angelus looked up from what he was doing to regard a beguilingly flushed and tousle-haired Xander, his fists clenched, his chocolate-doe eyes swirling with too many repressed emotions to count. "Just—just what the hell!" the youth snapped again, then turned away to leave a very aroused, frustrated, and confused master vampire staring at his pet's back as Xander threw himself into the bed and resolutely turned his back to Angelus.
"What the hell?" Angelus asked stupidly. Xander snorted rudely, not even bothering to turn to look at him. Now Angelus was getting angry, too, and he stalked over to the boy fuming on his bed. Xander turned over to the other side and went on with ignoring him. The vampire growled angrily, grabbed his boy, and picked him up by the scruff of his neck like a mother cat with a misbehaving kitten.
"Let go of me!" Xander yelled indignantly.
"No," Angelus said smugly. Looking back, Xander probably could have thought of many more intelligent responses to an angry master vampire holding him a foot off of the floor, but he was too stressed out to really consider them at the moment. Indeed, all he could really think of was wiping that stupid smirk off of Angelus' stupidly gorgeous face. So he punched him. Hard. Right in the nose.
In the plus column, it worked: the smirk vanished and he dropped Xander to the ground. In fact, to add another plus, it was actually really funny to watch him grab his nose and grunt like a pig in surprise. Of course, the pluses instantly vanished as he smacked Xander in the head in retaliation. It was what a vamp would call a love smack; it'd have made Spike laugh and kill whoever did it to him. Xander, human being that he was, went flying and landed on the bed again. "Ow!" he howled angrily.
"Don't hit me," Angelus growled angrily. Xander opted not to hit him; instead he jumped up off of the bed with a yell and had the distinct pleasure of watching a stunned look flash across Angelus' face before Xander's flying shoulder collided with his chest and sent him falling to the floor. In a second Xander was pinned on the floor again, with a very irate and game-faced vampire poised above him, yellow eyes glaring angrily as tiger-like growls issued from between tightly-clenched fangs.
"Have ye been driven mad, boy?!" Angelus snarled viciously.
"So what if I have?!" Xander snarled back, just as furiously. He wasn't backing down, not this time. "It'd be your damn fault!" he continued, heedless of the consequences. "I'm tired! I'm sick and fucking tired of this cryptic bullshit – I am physically and emotionally exhausted all the fucking time! And I still can't get you out of my god damned head!" He finished off on a yell, and, to his horror, started crying.
Angelus, for his part, was crouched atop his human, staring down at him in complete bewilderment. The demon Angelus, even during the years of curse-driven foolishness, had more than two centuries of living under his belt, and was rather complacently jaded. He knew what Xander was, inside, of course, but at the same time the boy was still almost completely human at the moment. And still, every thing he did, every answer to every question that a frustrated and confused Angelus would hurl at him, threw Angelus completely. He couldn't figure the boy out…and he was becoming addicted to him. And though he knew that Xander was becoming just as entangled in this dangerous web as he was, it did nothing to lighten his mood.
Because the problem for both of them was that demons didn't love like humans did. And the passion between angel and demon that the boy was igniting inside of them both was liable to destroy them both. Hopelessly confused, aroused, a million other emotions that he hadn't felt for a century overwhelming him, the demon bent and claimed Xander's trembling lips in a bruising kiss.
Xander hadn't been just blowing air when he'd yelled at the demon. He was going absolutely insane. Everything he thought he knew had been turned upside down and torn completely to shreds in the last month. Somehow, through everything, Angelus had become everything that he had promised to become when he had first spoken to him in this, their bedroom. He was everything that Xander was, everything that Xander knew. Angelus completely controlled him in ways that Xander couldn't even understand.
And he wanted it, in ways he didn't want to understand. Angelus was more than a…master to him. He was…was…Xander couldn't even put what he was feeling into words in his own thoughts. With the parents he'd grown up with, there hadn't been anyone. Giles had gone a long way towards filling that fatherly void in his life, but Angelus was so much more. He cared for him – he fed him and clothed him and controlled everything in his life to a point where Xander could finally feel free. If this was what people who wanted weird sex masters got out of life, he envied them.
Because he knew that no matter what he felt, Angelus couldn't actually love him. Xander was something to him, a passion, an obsession, a tool, but he wasn't…And he also knew that he didn't care. Every particle of him wanted Angelus, and not just sexually (but whoo boy, that was there (but only because the damn vampire was so fucking physically perfect)), Angelus was what he needed to survive. He'd given in. And he hadn't even known he was fighting.
But then when the demon kissed him, there was something there. Something…unexpected. The…spark that Xander always felt with Angelus was suddenly felt by the demon too; and that spark burst into a wild, world-consuming flame as soon as their lips touched, boy's to demon's.
Xander moaned in utter pleasure as the cool lips suddenly ground into his with force enough to bruise, to hurt, but that just made Xander wrap his arms and legs around the vampire and press himself even more desperately against him. Angelus made an approving groan in the back of his throat and plunged his thick tongue into Xander's hot mouth, moaning at the remembered taste, at the absolute submission in Xander's posture. He felt Xander in ways that he had never felt anyone else – the kiss was better than the best, it was enough to kill him with its power.
He could practically feel Xander in his very mind, binding them together in a way that even Darla hadn't managed with the mighty Angelus. When Xander's tongue accidentally nicked a fang and let loose some blood into the demon's mouth, he froze – but he couldn't stop. The blood sizzled through him like acid that had him hitting the ceiling and in moments bursting through it to the stars. Xander was in him, all around him, burning like a star, like a fiery raptor that had captured him and somehow the lines were blurring and AngeluswasXanderandXanderwasAngelus until there was no distinction no distinction no nothing but the two of them and it was perfect and they were perfect and—
Xander felt the breath rush out of him as he hit the wall above the bed and landed on the bed. His heart was rushing like a freight train at high noon and his head was spinning. He could feel a few droplets of blood drip out of his mouth along his chin, but he ignored them as he stared at Angelus, desperately trying to make sense of what the hell had happened the last moment. If he had hoped for answers from the vampire, however, he had a feeling he'd be disappointed.
Angelus was kneeling there, staring at Xander wildly. He looked like a wild beast. There was no comprehension in his eyes, his fangs dripping with blood (Xander's blood, the boy realized giddily), trembling from head to foot. He could see Angelus' massive erection straining at the tight leather pants the vampire always wore, and he felt himself trembling suddenly to touch him. Not to touch Angelus would bring agony – he desperately shook himself in an attempt to stop himself from himself.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING TO ME?!" Angelus screamed suddenly. Xander lay trembling on the bed at the rage and confusion and want and desire and a million other emotions he could feel like a fucking empath emanating from the vampire. The demon snarled like a wild thing, stalked toward the bed, grabbed the boy, kissed him once more, brutally, and snarled "I am your master!" With that, he threw Xander back on the bed and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him hard enough to make the stone walls shake a little dust off of them. The lock turned, and Xander burst into tears of confusion and rage and fear and want and everything until he huddled under the covers like a little boy who'd just discovered the monsters in the closet.
Angelus stormed out of the chamber before he killed the boy, or himself, or both of them or…he just didn't know anything anymore. Lucien pulled himself up and to attention as soon as his master strode out of the chamber, but visibly cringed when Angelus slammed the door as hard as he did. The older vampire rounded on him, and he tried to not show his fear. He could tell he was failing miserably, and so was confused when the infamously cruel Angelus didn't even comment on it.
There was a wild look in the master vampire's eyes, something that told Lucien not to say a word. The Master had gotten into…moods before, but Angelus looked completely unhinged at the moment. Lucien caught himself actually feeling almost sorry for the humans tonight during his master's hunt. He yelped in pain when one of the only two keys to the chamber was slammed into his cheek hard enough to draw blood.
"He doesn't go out, and NO ONE goes in," Angelus snarled. "He's MINE!" he added, though who he was attempting to convince went completely over Lucien's head. Instead, the proud minion cowered underneath Angelus' rage and nodded silently, shamelessly kowtowing. There was a difference between pride and stupidity, and, frankly, Lucien wanted to live. So, bearing that in mind, he went on to ask his next question. He contemplated shifting to his human guise, but decided against it.
"M-master?" he asked as the other demon was turning to leave, hating the squeak in his voice.
"What?" Angelus hissed through his fearsome fangs.
"What if he wants food?" Lucien soldiered on. "They have to eat, and you told me to make sure no harm comes to him…" he trailed off. Either way he looked at this, he was fucked. In the mood the master was in, the older demon was completely capable of tearing his head from his shoulders with his bare hands. If he came off of this mood and found out that Lucien had followed his angry orders and allowed no food, he would be enraged at the 'neglect' of his pet and beat his servant. The last minion that had dared disrespect Angelus was hanging in the basement. After three days of nonstop torture, with no pauses for food or rest, the master vampire had traipsed out of the basement in a jovial mood, ignoring the screams of near-insanity-driven-pain, covered head to toe in gore, swinging a whip behind him. The minion was still hanging down there, allowed to be fed enough to keep him alive, barely. That was three months ago.
Repressing a shudder at the thought, Lucien resolutely stood his ground. Thankfully, the master's rage didn't seem focused on him at the moment. "Send him some fuckin' food," he growled irritably, and stormed down the stairs. Lucien sighed in relief, refusing to acknowledge the fact that he was trembling like a leaf in the wind.
Angelus stalked through the main floor of the factory, ignoring the minions that were busy moving away from him. He grabbed his leather duster from a hook near the door, threw it on, and kept moving. He ignored the sounds behind him until he felt a small hand boldly grab his arm. He whirled, moving to attack, until he noticed that it wasn't a threat, only Jesse, that hot redhead that he'd fucked some time ago. He rolled his eyes in annoyance when he noticed the utterly star-struck look in her eyes as she looked up at him.
"What?" he sighed. She didn't seem to notice the irritation in his voice. "My lord," she murmured, her soft tits pressed up to his chest. "I couldn't help but notice how…tense you seem," she said. She was wearing her human face, and as she looked up at him he could smell the desire on her.
"Tense?" he asked with a curt laugh. Tense didn't even begin to cover what he was feeling; but if this minion thought she could help… He smiled at her coldly, then ripped her shirt off without a warning. He brought his mouth down and bit hard on her left breast; she cried out in agony and ecstasy as he drank her. He was still so fucking hard from the kiss with Xander, still so confused and angry and…and so much of everything. He didn't know what was happening to him, but there were ways to vent. This was one.
He lifted his mouth from her breast and lifted her short leather skirt. He snorted when he saw that she wasn't wearing any panties, and sank one thick finger deep inside her – he wasn't at all surprised to find her sopping wet and more than ready for him. She shamelessly moaned in pleasure, riding his large hand in front of all of the minions like the senseless whore that she was. He added another finger, loving the howls of ecstasy that it wrung from her. He opened his pants and didn't even bother to pull them down as he lifted her up and rammed her down on his rock-hard cock.
She screamed her pleasure, not even bothering to let him lift her up. She rode him hard, as much for her pleasure as for his. He moaned loudly, slamming her up against the wall hard enough for some of the metal to draw blood from her back. He didn't care how rough he was being, and she clearly didn't either. In his mind, the hot cavern he was buried in was Xander's, and he moaned again and sank his fangs into her neck, as he so longed to do in his boy's…it was enough. He came with a roar that reverberated through his fangs and into her. She clenched around his cock and he could feel her orgasm shaking her from head to toe. He pulled out, leaving her to slump on weak knees in front of him. He tucked himself back in, zipped back up, and turned to leave without a word.
"Pretty rough on the slag, weren't you mate?" Spike asked casually, rolling out from the shadows. Drusilla wasn't anywhere in sight, and Angelus sighed as he turned to face his Childe. He was aching to make a really foul kill at the moment, and all of the interruptions weren't helping his mood. Surprisingly, fucking the minion hadn't even begun to sate the ache that was resting deep inside of him. Sure, it had helped the blue balls a little, but whatever the hell it was that Xander was doing to him, it was staying with him, no matter how hard he tried to shake it off.
"What do you want, Spike?" he snarled derisively. The younger vampire smirked up at him without fear, and that only made Angelus angrier. There was a time when all three of his Childers had stared up at him with fear and want and respect all at once. But of course, Angel had screwed that all to hell. Spike hated him and wasn't even afraid of vocalizing it, half-paralyzed as he was. Dru was even more insane than before, and though she still loved him, wasn't afraid of defying him anymore. Darla was dead – the Soul had forced him to stake his own Sire, for no reason: not for power or for advancement, but as a gift to the Slayer. Such a perversion was unknown to his kind. Penn, for all he knew, wasn't even in the States anymore. He turned to face his Childe, not allowing his rage to fully show. He would put the fear of Angelus back into Spike, even if he had to beat him every day to get it there. He just didn't have the patience for it at the moment.
"I'm just saying, seeing as how you have such a lovely trollop there for you," Spike said with a casual sneer in the minion's direction, "it looks almost as if the boy up there's got the best of you and has left the mighty Angelus with a royal set of blue balls – if your knackers are still there." Every single word out of his mouth rang with derision. Every minion in the hall gasped at Spike's audacity, then went still when their master moved. Angelus was nearly 250 years old, one of the older vampires in the world. He was a master in every sense, and now he showed his power.
The only reason the minions knew that Angelus had moved was that he was no longer in the same position that he had been in a moment ago. Within a second he was all the way across the factory floor and had his Childe out of his chair and dangling by the throat like a cat holding a limp rat. Spike had the sense to realize he might have gone a tad far with his taunting and shut up. His Sire pulled him down to see his fangs, and roared in his face, blowing his hair back. "If I ever hear ye disrespectin' me like that again in front of the minions, I'll kill ye, Childe or no!" he roared, shaking Spike without a care for the pain that shot through his ruined spine. "The boy is mine!" he roared, shaking Spike for emphasis.
"Okay, mate! No one's trying to take him from you—" Spike began desperately, before Angelus flung him the entire length of the hall to land in a crumpled heap on the floor. Angelus turned on his heel and stormed out of the factory, slamming the door hard enough to shake the left side off of its hinges. No one said a word, and no one moved to help the shaken vampire staring after his Sire. Something was wrong with Angelus, Spike knew. And not the usual psychotic thing. No, this was something dangerous. He'd never seen Angelus work himself up like that before. Spike had a sense of something moving, things happening that maybe shouldn't happen. It spelled a whole lot of trouble before it was over – maybe more trouble than it was worth.
But as Spike wondered how he might have to stop certain things, no one noticed Jesse. Her red hair in a heap, her master's drying seed inside of her, blood running from her chest and her back and her neck, she stared after her love desperately. But Angelus was gone. She glared up the stairs, where everyone knew the master was keeping the…human. Something needed to be done. Yes, something needed to be done.
Angelus sighed as he let the body fall, his fangs slipping out of the gaping wound at the man's neck. The kill hadn't done a thing for him, not like it usually did. With the memory of Xander's blood in his mouth, it just made all other blood lose its…spice. He looked around, surveying his work with a pang of annoyance. The small house had seemed a good pick; it had been the work of moments to seduce the teenage girl in the back to let him in. She'd died fast, as had her little brother. The mother had fought hysterically to save the baby crying in the crib – he'd snapped her arms out of her sockets before drinking her dry. The father looked about as sane as Drusilla when Angelus had rounded on him.
He looked down at the man's corpse with a vague sense of disgust. There hadn't been anything there during the hunt. The family's terror had spiced the air as it usually did, but it hadn't thrilled his senses the way it used to. Instead, all he could think of was the smell of Xander. When he'd held the boy in his arms and drained him, the blood had turned to ash in his mouth as he thought of Xander and the boy's blood and his passion filling him. Shaken, the demon sat down heavily on the sofa. There was nothing for it. Xander had filled him to the extent of all else.
And it was perhaps his preoccupation with his boy that inspired such carelessness that allowed the Slayer's foot to connect with his skull, sending him flying more than ten feet across the room and slamming into the mirror on the wall, shattering it and spilling blood into his eyes. He howled in pain. His souled self had sparred with the Slayer many a time, and he never remembered such power coiled in the strike. It seemed his obsession with the boy had spawned another, less desirable reaction: Buffy was finally striking at him to kill. Maybe it was the power of the kick that had alerted him, or maybe it was the small, wickedly narrow stake that she held in her hand the offered much less room to block than her usual, wider variations. Or perhaps it was the murderous rage in her eyes as she came at him with a hunter's scream that would have done Darla proud.
Her fist connected with his chin, and his head snapped up, leaving her free to slam a sledgehammer punch into his stomach. He doubled over, gasping in pain, and she dropped her elbow down onto his back. He dropped, but her knee was already lifted, slamming into his chest. Within the space of four seconds, he'd dropped to his back. Her foot flashed to his throat and stomped hard; he coughed in pain as her foot slammed into his chest. She crouched, grabbed his head, and slammed it hard into the floor. She punched him in each side of the face, drawing even more blood, and then the stake hovered over his heart. He froze. She wasn't even breathing hard.
"Where. Is. Xander?" she asked, enunciating each word carefully. There were no emotions in her eyes as her deceptively small hand curled tightly around his throat.
"Fuck you, Slayer," he gasped.
"No thanks. Been there, done that. Where is he?" she snapped. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, surprised. Buffy had proved very easy to sidestep lately; after their little encounter in Angel's old apartment, she'd been torturing herself for letting Angel 'die,' and every time they had met, all he'd had to do was mention it to keep her off her game. Now, however, she'd learned to shut that off. Now, she was ready to fight. And win.
He threw a foot up and slammed it into her head. She grunted in pain and surprise and loosened her grip on his throat. He used that to grab her wrist and twist until she dropped the stake; he kicked it out of the way and slammed his fist into her eye, effectively dislodging her off of him. Or, that was the plan; instead, she grabbed his fist and decked him in the ear, which would have popped his ear drum had he been human. As it was, it hurt like hell. He grabbed his ear reflexively and she dove for the stake, but he lashed out with his foot and caught her in her ribs. She gasped and landed wrong, banging her knee.
He leapt to his feet and charged, slamming into her like a professional wrestler, knocking her into the wall. She responded by going for a bitch move that he didn't expect and slammed her heeled shoe into his foot, moving him away so she could ram her elbow into the side of his face. He ducked her next punch and threw a haymaker of his own, throwing her towards a window. It broke and suddenly her blood scented the air. He smelled the spice of Slayer blood and howled, diving towards her with murder in his eyes. She threw a roundhouse kick that knocked him off course and dived toward him.
But it was enough – her wounded knee, her hurt wrist. The blood only added the last thing against her. Angelus was running off of too much rage, confusion, bloodlust. Everything that he felt for Xander, all the violence of his passion, was pouring into his fight with the Slayer. And Buffy was losing. He pounded into her again and again, rolling until he was on top and slamming fists into her again and again. She screamed in pain, her self-control finally breaking, as her nose gushed blood. It only served to inflame him more – until.
Until.
Xander's face showed up in his mind. This wasn't his memory, it was Angel's, but still, it was there. The sunlight from the library windows flowed down, as if the Sun God Himself smiled down on Buffy and her Slayerettes. She was laughing at something that Xander said, and he smiled as he looked at her and Willow. Three teenagers, fighting a war that they could never win, and yet here they found time to smile: with each other. His boy's face was lit up with such happiness as he grinned at the two that were like sisters to him, his sable hair so soft and luxurious, his puppy dog eyes so happy and his smile so bright…
Angelus lowered his fist. He couldn't kill the Slayer. She coughed up blood from the blow to her ribs, but she'd be all right. He stood and left without a backwards glance. He felt her eyes on him for a long time, but he couldn't. He needed to see Xander. Now.
He disappeared into the night, leaving a very battered, very bloody, very alive Slayer staring after him.
Xander had stopped crying. It was a nice thing that he'd stopped, because he didn't fancy being caught sobbing like a ten-year-old by Lucien. Though they'd never be friends, they'd at least settled a sort of truce from the constant insults. Judging by the black scowl on the vampire's face as he stalked into the room with a McDonald's bag, he looked pissed. Not someone that Xander would want to mess with. So, given his mood and his big fight with Angelus, Xander had to screw with him.
"You look pissed," he commented. He had been sitting on the bed, thinking. And waiting. He couldn't fool himself much on that front; he was waiting for Angelus to come back. He wanted to see the vampire again. He wanted more than to see the vampire, he wanted to touch, to taste…so much. But instead he had Lucien, and the fact that he was so completely confused by his entire life right now that he couldn't do much more than lash out.
"Shut up," Lucien said flatly. He put the bag down on the table and turned to walk out. He stopped dead. Turned. And looked at the pillow that Xander had thrown at him. The boy was sitting on the bed with a shit-eating grin and a 'who, me?' look in his eyes. "Did you just hit me with a pillow?" the 154 year old vampire asked incredulously.
"Yup," Xander said cheerfully.
"Why?" was all that Lucien could think to ask.
"Because I'm bored, tired, pissed off…and, as my master is gone, I only have you to talk to," Xander replied pensively. "I don't have a lot of friends here, in case you haven't noticed."
"You want to…talk to me?" Lucien asked, nonplussed.
"Yes, brain-dead. Though not about death and stuff. Cause that's boring. And gross," said Xander. "I mean, you're, what, over a century?" Lucien nodded, unable to think of anything to say. "Didn't anything interesting happen to you for that span? Y'know, aside from the heaping amount of death?"
Lucien was beginning to see why his master liked the boy. Here he was, a prisoner in his master's house, and yet he strikes up a conversation with his jailer because he was bored. He sighed slightly. "A couple of wars. And hippies. They were strange people," he commented guardedly.
"Can vampires smoke pot?" Xander asked interestedly.
"No – we haven't any breath, so we can't inhale anything," Lucien replied. Xander nodded. "Doesn't the Slayer's Watcher tell you anything of our breed?" he asked curiously. After all, the boy was a helper of the Vampire Slayer. Any information at all would be of interest. To everyone, not just to him, he told himself firmly.
"Well, that's more Buffy's territory than mine. I help with the research and the fighting," the boy said, though he seemed to not want to discuss his role much. "Willow is a witch now; she's getting really strong," he added proudly. "And Giles is all smart and knows a lot, and Oz is a werewolf, so he's got some mojo to add, and Cordelia…well, she's just a bitch. But a fun one, sometimes," he rounded off.
"Why do you help the Slayer? Does she force this upon you? or are you training to be a Watcher?" Lucien asked. The boy scowled up at him.
"First off, Buffy's my best friend, so don't make like she's just 'the Slayer!' She's still a teenage girl!" he snapped. "And train to be like Giles? With that much tweed and a British flag jammed up his ass? As if!" He nodded to himself firmly.
Lucien…laughed. It was a strange laugh, not his usual evil chuckle. It was actually a laugh. This strange, slightly insane human boy had just made him laugh. He stared at Xander wonderingly. There was just…something about this boy…
Xander was smiling up at him as he munched on his Big Mac. "Y'know, I was wondering if you had any other expressions than scowl and grr face," he commented. "Can you even go human face on me?"
"Of course I can control my demon!" Lucien said, insulted.
"Dare ya."
"Excuse me?" he asked stiffly.
"I dare you to go all human on me," Xander challenged with a grin. Lucien glared balefully at him and willed his face to shift. Xander stared at him and smirked, victorious.
"Satisfied?" Lucien asked. The boy's unashamed staring was beginning to make him feel uncomfortable. He could not even afford to think of taking the boy as his own – Angelus was notorious for his possessiveness.
"Sure," Xander said. "I just didn't think you'd look like that. All…normal. Did you do anything normal before you were Turned?"
Startled by the question, the demon had to think for a moment. "I was…not very interesting. A banker's son. My Sire inducted me to the Order after my father tried to sacrifice me to a demon to gain power. My Sire killed my father and decided to Turn me. I became a loyal disciple to him," Lucien said, telling his story as quickly as possible.
"Your Sire was the Master," Xander said quietly.
"Yes…" he said quietly. How the boy had intuited that, he hadn't a clue. From the troubled look in the boy's eyes, he had a feeling that the boy didn't know either.
"I'm sorry about your dad," Xander said simply. He had enough feeling in his voice to show that he meant it. Uncomfortable, Lucien bowed his head and turned to leave. He carefully locked the door, then leaned his back against it. There was something in the air tonight, something to foretold change. He had a feeling that it had something to do with the boy in the room behind him.
Angelus strode into the factory, pleased to see that in these pre-dawn hours, most of his people were gone. It wouldn't do to have another scene amongst his minions. His two Childers were back, however, and sitting at a table with one another. Spike refused to look at him. Drusilla, however, was staring at him. Her wide, mad eyes were fixed on him and she began to rock back and forth, whispering to herself. She could sense him even more than he could sense himself. He sighed. He hadn't a clue what he was going to do, but all he knew was that he needed to see his boy. Now. He headed up the stairs, ignoring everything around him. He began to hurry, his true face emerging without conscious thought. He hurtled towards the door, ignoring Lucien, who was staring at him. Instead, he opened the chamber, slammed it shut, and locked it.
He turned to face Xander, who was sitting on the bed, staring at him. They regarded each other silently for a few moments, then Angelus threw off his duster and moved toward Xander at the same time the mortal jumped off the bed and went to him. Without thought, demon and boy grabbed each other and their lips connected. Angelus lifted Xander up, and the boy automatically wrapped his legs around Angelus' waist, lifting and grinding their erections together through their pants. Angelus flung his head back and moaned, burying his face in Xander's neck. They both stood still for a moment, holding each other. Angelus drew back to stare into Xander's face. There was nothing but feeling there, and a tenderness in Xander's eyes that told him he knew exactly what Angelus was going through, and was right there with him. He sighed as Xander fearlessly traced over his face, tracing the ridges and folds with feathery touches that made him moan.
"I need you, Xander," he said bluntly. "Need you now. Tonight. Make you mine, forever. Only mine," he whispered, rubbing their foreheads together. Xander nodded; paused. He looked up at Angelus and kissed him. "Yours," he said simply. There wasn't any fear in his eyes, just want. Just Angelus.
The demon carried his boy to the bed and sat him down, before slowly stripping his shirt off. Xander reached up and stopped him as he removed his shirt. He took off his own, and stepped toward Angelus. The vampire grabbed him and captured his lips. The kiss took Xander's breath away as it deepened, Angelus' tongue plunging in, claiming him, conquering him. There was nothing left but giving in, but Angelus. He pulled Xander closer, and as they felt Xander's overheated chest connect with his cool one, they both moaned. Angelus trailed kisses down Xander's chin and suckled on his neck, feeling the pulse beating fast and strong under his tongue.
Xander sighed, pushing to put room between them. Angelus let him, staring down at the flushed, beautiful face of his boy as Xander smiled up at him and leaned down to kiss his neck, his collarbone. Xander moaned as the delicious, beautiful, pale skin opened up to him. He suckled an inviting, wine-dark nipple and moaned at the flavor as the sensitive flesh puckered and hardened underneath his mouth, Angelus letting out a delicious moan above him. Xander decided he liked that reaction, so he moved across the perfect chest and suckled the other nipple, letting Angelus moan above him. The vampire grabbed his face and pulled him back up for another breathtaking kiss. He took Xander's hand and guided it to his leather-clad erection, moaning at the gentle pressure as he sucked Xander's tongue into his mouth.
Xander gasped at the sensation of the huge size pressing up against his hand, and moaned as he surrendered to the power of Angelus' kiss. He used his other hand to frame the vampire's face, carefully licking away the spicy blood that had flowed from the wounds of whatever he'd been doing before he came in. Angelus submitted to Xander's care, letting the boy lap up the blood, cleaning him. Xander removed his hand from Angelus' crotch, chuckling breathlessly at the demon's desperate growl, but only held him closer. Angelus grabbed him and shoved him down on the bed, ripping Xander's pants away. The boy blushed as Angelus looked his fill, at his beautiful, golden boy, his erection hard enough to break rocks laying flush against his stomach, pooling pre-cum on his belly.
The demon divested himself of his own pants, watching Xander watch him. The boy's mouth went dry. The vampire was just so heart-rendingly beautiful, pale and magnificently muscled. His enormous cock jutted from a patch of raven curls, so thick and long, uncut. He watched in wonder as Angelus grabbed it and pumped it a time or two, moving toward him. Xander reached out and gently held it, weighing it in his curious touches. He moved and smelled the dark mystery of where cock met skin, the curls of hair. He licked the head, moaning at the taste as some of Angelus' pre-cum met his questing tongue. The vampire tossed his head back and groaned loud as a bear as Xander tasted his large balls.
He leaned down and captured Xander's face in his hands, kissing his boy again and again as he lay on top of him and finally thrusted their naked bodies together. Demon and boy gasped at the sensation, the way made slick by spit and cum. Angelus drew back and searched Xander's eyes, again seeing only agreement and desire. He smiled gently and nudged Xander's legs apart. He moaned at how easily his boy agreed, and he was finally cradled in between Xander's legs, where he'd wanted to be for so long. He lifted Xander until the boy again instinctively let his legs wrap around the vampire's hips.
Angelus reached in the bedside drawer for a tube of slick and found it, applying some to his fingers. He slowly buried his middle finger in Xander's tight, fiery hot, virginal hole, and moaned in pleasure as he felt the tight hole suck him in, holding him tight. Xander threw his head back and thrashed on the pillows, speechless in pleasure.
"Tell me, pretty," Angelus murmured into his ear. "Tell me what you want."
"You," Xander whispered. And that was all that was needed. His consent. Angelus drew back and applied some slick to his prodigious erection, kissing the head to Xander's hot little hole. His boy stared up at him. Angelus kissed him, hard, and then thrust all the way in. Xander's eyes widened and his grunted in surprise and pain. He stared up at the vampire, a question in his eyes. Angelus simply smiled in response and waited. Sure enough, Xander began to moan in pleasure as his body adjusted.
Angelus took his cue and began to thrust. It was better than anything, ever. He was surrounded by fire, by Xander. His boy's scent filled the air with the scent of burning roses and magic as he felt the Claim beginning. He thrust harder, feeling like he was flying, Xander with him, as he felt them joining, becoming one. He felt Xander bucking against him, felt the boy filling him, felt himself filling the boy, until they were one in a perfect moment of completion, as fire scorched them both from head to toe.
Angelus screamed as he came and felt Xander following him over the edge as he buried his fangs in Xander's throat.
It was hell! It was heaven! It was fire and ice and smoke and want and everything! One gulp and he stopped, stunned. The blood sizzled into him, filled him from head to toe. He felt sated. Finished. Complete. He'd found something within this blood, within Xander, that he couldn't have found anywhere else. Cruor Aduro. His soul thought that he'd found perfect happiness. He'd been wrong.
Xander was sobbing underneath him as the barriers between the two of them began to come back up. Angelus' softened cock slid from him, but the vampire simply held him the tighter. As dawn came, his boy, now truly his boy, fell to sleep, and the vampire followed, exhausted. They both slept better than they had in their entire lives.
A/N: Finally! I finished this chapter! And damn but that love scene was so damn hard to write! A great romance author I'm not, but I'm still very, very proud of this shit. It took longer than you'd think – my muse is a little insane at the moment, so it's just me here holding down the fort. This entire file is almost fifteen pages long, so I hope that's enough to stop you from killing me – just for a little while. Though I deserve it. I promise, though, next chapter will bring some mighty mighty changes, so pay attention!
Also, if anyone has any suggestions about my fight scenes, that'd be great: I'm not sure if I did that right or not. I just wanted all of us fellow Buffy lovers to see our favorite Slayer kick a little ass – I am NOT a Buffy-basher in any of my fics, I'd just like to point out.
And just to add this: thank you so much to all my reviewers. Whether you praised me, flamed me, said my story sucked, whatever – the fact that you'd take the time to read and review means so much to me. I love all of my readers, more than anything, in the most non creepy way that you can imagine. I am once again so sorry that I made you wait so long for the story.
Blessed be
PyroPadawan.