Rating: PG-13 for language mainly.
Fourth in the Daddy!Verseseries
Storytime with Angel
Some strange creepy-crawly feeling skitters down my back. Glancing over at my sire, I see his jaw set just a hair tighter... and am somehow glad for that, since it means I'm not completely insane. Or if I am, at least I'm in good company.
Without looking over at me, he says, "Feel like spiders runnin up an down yer spine? Yeah, that's yer grandsire an his bloody cursed soul."
Ok, that makes sense. Angel's always made me feel... odd. Unsettled, angry, territorial. At least now I've got a solid reason for my reaction. ((snicker))
Spike glances at me, a funny expression on his face. Trying to explain that would be painful enough, but I just know he'll laugh at me. Human me. Huh... wonder where one ends and the other begins.
Before I have a chance to slip too deep into thought, we pull up outside a cheap apartment complex. Heh, even my parents' basement has more class. Ah how the mighty have fallen.
Dunno what's up with the boy now. His moods are dancin back an forth worse'n the poof's normally do. No help for it now, peaches'll have noticed our arrival an be waitin. This's gonna be so much fun. Not.
Hell help me, I'm startin to sound like the whelp.
"Remember - let me do the talkin. Leastwise til we know if he's gonna try'n stake ya, right?"
Don't have much hope m'boy'll be able to keep his trap shut, but I still gotta try.
Through soft laughter - not gonna ask what's caused it this time - he mumbles alright at me. Draggin his ass outa this over-priced SUV, I can practically smell the broodin comin from upstairs. Lovely. Just what we need - the doom-n-gloom bloody welcomin committee.
Now that sire's explained, I can almost taste Angel's peculiar brand of depression. 'Oh poor pitiful me, who must attone for the crimes of my wicked self's days of torture. Please, show no mercy in your wealth of adoration, for I have struggled hard to achieve this level of self-recrimination.'
I'm betting he's gonna try laying the guilt on Spike. For turning me. For not walking out into the sun - and that, only for Angel's benefit, to relieve him of the burden that knowing he was responsible for my sire's death and rebirth. Gods, listen to me! Even my internal babble is turning into Deadboy. Maybe it's some sort of wacky mystical genetical defect. Hah, another thing to hold over Angel's heavily-gelled head.
Keep quiet. Like I haven't heard that every day, several times a day, for my entire life. ((snort)) I know Spike isn't like my mom and dad, or my old teachers, or even the Scoobies. But that order... grates on my nerves. Oh well, I can play that game, at least for a little while. Be quiet as a mouse and fade into the woodwork. It'll give me a chance to test these nifty new senses anyways.
Like the smell of borderline fear/worry coming from sire - kinda like that icky scent of hospital waiting rooms, all antiseptic but with the underlying stench of illness they can never get rid of. Huh. Didn't realize I'd paid that much attention to odors before. Guess the brain soaks up all sorts of things to use as triggers. Neat.
Sire, listen before you stake. Peaches, put away the weapons - we needta talk. Heya poof, ready to share yer haircare secrets?
Alright, that does it. I'm finally as wonked out as Dru. 'S all Angel's fault. If he didn't hafta deal with that feckin soul, this woulda been one wild reunion... none of us wearin anythin but maybe chains an leather the whole time we're here. Not like his Broodiness'll get his rocks off now - too damned afraid he'll turn into psycho-vamp again. Can't say I want a return of that incarnation of me sire either.
Heh, Xan's scentin me. Bet he'll try'n mark me 'fore we get to the poof's flat. Might even let'im too, just ta see what tall, dark an depressin'll do bout it. Never been on this side of jealousy before. Kinda nice.
Stop it! Don't let yourself get distracted, ya dozy wanker! Let yer guard down for half a sec an one of us'll be dust. Can't trust soulboy not ta try 'fixin' things the permanent way.
God, how am I going to handle this. Seeing Spike is always difficult - torn between the demon's possessive love and the soul's regret and disgust... But now he's dragged Xander Harris into our circle. The undead Brady Bunch, as he once said of me and my childer. Of which he is now a part.
How am I supposed to calmly accept yet another demon being brought into existance, even a member of my own line. Maybe especially a member of my line.
It isn't just my soul that's cursed - every vampire in our clan seems to be doomed from the start. Darla, dusted by her own childe. Sweet, crazy Drusilla... and her insanity is entirely my fault. Spike's penchant for trouble, his braggart ways sending him straight into the Initiative's waiting arms. Penn. No, not going down that particular road. And now bumbling, awkward, mouthy Xander Harris.
My childe had best have some damned good reasons for this.
Huh. I know we're almost at his doorstep, but Angel's scent isn't really stronger now. Maybe it isn't a smell so much as some sixth sense. ((snort)) Yeah, I see dead people, all the time. And will for the rest of my unlife. ((chuckle))
Yeah yeah, sorry Daddy. I'll try to collect myself and act the proper gentleman's vampire for ya. Good thing I don't say it outloud though... looks like Spike is about to bounce through the roof with nervous energy. Ok now, Xanman, no sudden moves.
Reaching a hand out in clear view of his sire, the brunet gently pets Spike's arm. "Hey, going in there like a rubber band pulled too tight isn't gonna help any. The worst he can do is try to stake one of us, right? I know you won't let him dust me, and I'm not gonna let him get near enough to try it on you, ok?"
Moving faster than he can see, Xander finds himself held tight in his sire's arms.
"Hell no, he won't get the fuckin chance. MY boy! My lovely, wonderful lion." The blond's nervous vibrations making his voice quaver, he snuffles into his childe's neck. "Don't go pissin him off jus yet, y'hear? We want some answers, an the poof's the one's got'em."
Spike's obvious... anxiety (and even in his own mind, Xander refuses to acknowledge that the bouncy blond menace might feel true fear) over introducing his childe to his sire is making the young vamp more than a little edgy.
"Hey, no worries, ok? Spike... Sire, I won't do anything to cause you grief. Well, not for the foreseeable future. Can't promise anything bout tomorrow." It's hard to come up with a good wiseass comment, anything that'd bring a grin to those beloved, etched cheeks. "Let's say hi to grampa!"
Goofy grin in place, check. What Spike calls 'gormless'... and maybe one day he'll explain that term. Glad I put on one of those sweet silk shirts before we came up - even without body temperature, it's cold here. Probably worry or something.
He's tryin so hard to project the old donut boy image. Doin a fair job o' it too. Only time I remember bein in the same room with both o'them, Xan smelt bout like this - same anger, possessiveness, almost-not-quite fear that feels more like he knows Angelus is lurkin beneath the surface an will stake at the first sign of him comin out to play. Know how that feels, m'boy.
Best get this over with. No amount of preparation'll be enough, yeah? Right, 'xactly right. Pull yer balls out, Big Bad, an knock on the feckin door already.
'S what I thought, standin jus there waitin on us, weren't ya.
"Spike. Xander." Can't tell a bloody thing from his face.
((sniff)) Huh, deadboy smells more nervous than Spike. Well hell, I can work with that. As long as I don't snicker and break my cover.
Give him a little half wave, yeah I see ya but I'm not happy bout it. Just like old times, eh Angel? Something between a smile and a snarl on my lips.
Got this urge to rub against my sire, kinda like a cat marking territory. Heh, maybe I was right about vamps being descendants of the feline genus. Oh! He's letting me do it too! And doesn't that look of irate jealousy look good on Neanderthal vamp? MY Spike! Just keep your big meaty paws off my sire, and we might all make it outa here.
Alright Xanman, just calm down. No use growling out in the hallway, right? Can't stop the subsonic rumble though - he really irritates me.
Looks like m'boy got some o' his poofiness' posturing in the mix. Bloody hell, this is gonna be more testosterone-filled than a footie locker room brawl.
"Gonna invite us in, peaches? Or would you rather hold the jolly reunion out in the hall?"
He glares at me. Nothing new there. Learn some new tricks, wouldya?
"You're early. We were supposed to meet at Caritas in an hour."
Heh, he's still got that forehead issue. No matter. "Yeah, made better time'n I figured. We can always leave an meetcha there. If you wanna risk us out in the public that long." Flash'im some fang, watch'im step back an motion us in. So easy to play this poof.
Xan's keepin close to me - good thing, that. Not gonna let'im get too close to Angel 'fore we get this settled. I push'im toward the short sofa, leave the chair with springs pokin out for my sire.
"Where d'ya wanna start?"
They're early, have obviously fed on the way here, and both are itching for a fight. What a way to begin this difficult conversation. Still, the boy's got more control than I'd expect from a fledgeling.
"Have a seat, please. I'll tell you whatever I can, but first, would you explain what the hell you were thinking turning Xander Harris?!" I'm sure I could've said that better, calmer, but dammit boy, Buffy's going to have my balls for this stunt of yours.
"See, it's like I told ya. Whelp's folks beat the tar outa him, yeah? No way he woulda survived long enough to get to hospital."
Spike's colorful way of describing the past week's events almost draws me into the situation. The most surprising part is that I know he isn't trying to bullshit me. It really was a dire emergency, and he gave the boy every choice available. I'm shocked, however, that Buffy's white knight opted to join the legion of undead.
As their tale comes to a close, I catch myself staring at the newest demon of our clan. He hasn't slipped into gameface once, nor has he done more than growl a time or two. Nothing he wouldn't do as a human. Very very strange. But it also fits in somehow...
Time for lecture and lore. ((sigh)) Maybe Spike will pay more attention this time.
"If you're finished, I might be able to offer a few explanations. But first, Xander, would you come here for a moment?"
He hesitates, flicks a glance at Spike, they communicate something between them (that look that says "I've got your back, you get mine"), before he slowly approaches me. At least his level of self-preservation has raised a bit.
"No stakes or holy water on me, promise. I just want to..." Alright, this is harder than I expected. Angelus would have grabbed the boy's neck and scented him, then ripped in to taste. Can't do that now though, can I? "It's considered good manners to offer your neck to the head of the clan. I won't ask that of you, but I need to... sense your power, your strength."
His eyebrow raises, and I know he wasn't able to do that before. Must've gotten it from his sire. Still, he puts one hand toward me, lifting it near my face.
All it takes is a long whiff across the skin of his wrist. My shock must show - at least to Spike. This young one would give the Master a run for his money. Properly trained, of course. I feel my demon straining against his cage, demanding to be the one 'training' the boy. Not going to happen!
There's something else under all that strength... "May I?" Harris might not know what I'm asking, but his demon and his sire are well aware. Spike's across the distance before his childe can answer. "William, sit down! I swear not to hurt your childe in any way." He still looks suspicious, and I can't blame him for that, but he does back down a step.
With his sire at his back, Xander studies me closely. Smelling me... and that is so strange. This whole scenario is beyond bizarre. Finally, he nods once and scratches a nail along his inner arm. The scent of his blood rocks me on my heels. Sweet Christ! Surely it isn't possible... I've got to know.
Making exaggerated movements so as not to surprise these two live wires, I draw one finger through the line of blood slowly seeping out the narrow gash he made. Bring it to my lips and taste. And there it is. How the hell?
Not talking. Quiet as a mouse. Promised! But when soulboy starts freaking out, it's all I can do not to stumble back behind sire to hide.
What'd he find in my blood? Is there some kind of undead AIDs? Oh shit, maybe I'm contagious... Spike's gonna catch it too!
Before I can panic too much, he's right there beside me, petting me and whispering nonsense things to calm me down. I let those neat extra senses out to play a little more, and the feelings coming from Angel almost throw me back into blind panic again. Surprise I can understand. A little fear - huh? And... relief? Alright, whatthefuck?
Watchin sucks. Know he's gotta do this, even if I hate makin Xan go through it. Got my suspicions, need the old poof's opinion to back me up.
Feck! Wish I'd paid more attention to those moldy lessons on lore.
The Master always scoffed at our family journals, saying that no self-respecting demon could retain any more of his human personality than was needed for hunting prey. Darla wasn't much better, but then she always hated acknowledging her human life. Still, I knew there was some truth to them.
And maybe I should be telling them this. ((sigh))
"Sit back down, Spike, Xander. This might take awhile."
When they're finally situated, I stand up to pace the small living room of my apartment. There's no way of knowing how they'll react to this.
"First, I promise not to stake either of you. You have my word as the head of our line." Spike relaxes with that, but the boy... shows no signs of lowering his defensive stance. Oh well, he'll learn in time.
"There is a direct correlation between the amount of time it takes for a newly turned vampire to 'awaken' and the strength of their personal power. Oddly enough, the stronger they are, the more balance there is between demon and whatever human components are left behind."
Twin looks of dazed stupor. ((sigh)) I should've expected this. Use smaller words, Angel.
"Ok, laymen's terms: More human traits equals a weaker demon spirit. More humanity left over equals stronger power base. No one's quite sure why, but I personally believe that it has to do with human emotions. The demon spirit is based on instinct, passion and aggression. It needs the human side to temper that into a workable compromise, or else the fledgeling is... a mindless killing device. Canon fodder, if you will.
"Yes, I know it sounds contradictory. Let me try explaining it another way." My childe's face shows the light of understanding slowly coming on, but Xander is still a mask of confusion. "Most minions are created for just that - a front line defense against any who would threaten the family. Their humanity doesn't matter. A drop or two of sire's blood, and voila! instant servant. Well over seventy-five percent of all vampires fall in this catagory. Hence the need for Slayers and other demon hunters."
Alright, the boy understands that well enough. I must have found the right analogy.
"Childer are different. By definition. They are created to provide the family with companionship, some special skills, or other... traits peculiar to their mortal self. They are chosen to be additions to the clan. Whereas minions only require a sip of sire's blood, childer can take up to six pints to create a strong bond. The more they drink from their creator, the stronger the bond."
Only Spike's sharp intake of air alerts me to any change in his mood. Ah, so that's part of it.
"My guess is that you-" looking directly at my childe "-fed him more than that. Dangerous, William. If you weren't so lucky, he could have drained you." Back at Xander again, "This next part is speculation, but it's founded on solid evidence."
And yes, they can tell that here is the information they really seek.
"Speed of waking time. It seems to be connected with the ratio of demon spirit to human soul left over. Meaning that, yes, most higher vampires retain a portion of their soul after turning. How much depends a great deal on how long they take to awaken after turning. And I'm not telling this right..." ((cough))
"Let's use Spike as an example. And I know how you just love that, William, so do sit down!" His eyes pierce me all over again. Silly childe. "He was a lovely human. Gentle, intellegent, full of dreams and hopes toward literary greatness. When Drusilla found him, she had to have his 'light'... And it's a mixed blessing that I, Angelus, was there with her. She drained him and bit through her wrist to turn the boy, but then the stars started calling her away. He would have died had Angelus not been there to finish the job.
"Perhaps that's why he is stronger than most of our line - he's got two sires. Two sources of power, prior to his demon taking hold. That in itself wouldn't be enough, of course, but it might have acted as a beacon to his demon. Gods! I'm still not explaining this clearly, am I...
"Think of it like this: A drained human body is a vessel, but until the soul completely leaves, there is still a chance of turning. With the incorporation of sire's blood, some spark of that magical blood acts as a beacon to the demon spirits that would inhabit a new vampire's body. The more sire's blood is used, the faster a demon - a strong, wily spirit - can find and ground itself within its new home. Hence minions taking so long, and having so little humanity.
"After eighteen hours, Spike woke with a strong demon spirit, retaining most of his human personality and quirks. Granted, in the past century he's worn down the softer side of himself. But the speed of his awakening told us how powerful he would grow to be. He was always the most human of us - a fact that constantly got him in trouble with Darla and the Master.
"If a minion takes up to three days to wake, and retains only enough human knowledge for speech patterns and basic information, we can assume they have ten percent or less humanity left in them." A grin at my childe, because I know he's just going to love this. "But Spike... he took just over half a day, and kept right at fifty percent of his human's soul, conscience, and personality. Yes, dear William, you still have part of your soul. Now... about that deplorable nickname you use for me?"
I let out a touch of Angelus, just enough to make my childe cringe at the cold grin on my face. He won't be calling me soulboy again. Not on this trip at least.
"Xander..." Time for my grandchilde. And I really want a second opinion! Pity there isn't anyone left, other than crazy Dru. "May I?" He offers me his wrist again, slicing neatly through tissue just enough to let a few drops well up for me to taste/smell. It's no wonder that Spike is so protective of the boy. His blood, his strength... is addictive. And from the confines of its cage, the demon roars. ((sigh))
"All I've got for comparison is my childer, or a hundred years past minions. However, I think it's safe to say that you've retained at least three-fourths of your soul. It's fortunate that... your human self was such a good person to begin with, otherwise I would fear for the general populace." That's a joke, people! I offer a rusty chuckle, which seems to scare them. ((sigh))
"What I'm trying to say, Harris, is that you aren't quite as damned as me or Spike. I doubt that your friend Willow's soul restoration spell would have any effect on you at all. You didn't lose much of it, so there is precious little to regain."
At last, he finally gets to the bottom line. Huh. Y'know, I probably could've figured this out on my own. I just didn't feel different, other than the hot-for-Spike part, and no guilt from seeing slimeballs dead. And even as a human, that last part didn't bother me too much either. Some white hat, right? Still, it's nice to have it confirmed. Maybe now, Spike'll stop acting like he drowned a bag of kittens or something.
With a snicker, I elbow his ribs and grin at my sire. "Tough luck, blondie. Looks like you're forever stuck with the donut boy."
And that brings back the smirk I've come to love.
Yeah, it all makes some sort of sense. Although the poof'll never win prizes for eloquence or clear speakin. No matter, it's still Xanpet in there. An maybe now I can forgive the occassional urge to jot a few lines of doggerel, yeah? Huh, William... not gone, not forgotten, lurkin jus beneath the surface...
Only one thing I wanna know now.
"Right, me an m'boy's got lotsa soul left over." Wait for it, gotta catch the poof's eye, let'im see mine sparkle. "So how much did Angelus have?"
I knew it was going too well. And yes, eventually the question would've come up. But really, his timing is always rotten.
With a long-suffering sigh (that I've been practicing for years now), "I was Darla's first, if you'll recall. And she hadn't been a vampire herself for long."
"Come on, peaches. We're all family here, ain't we?"
Yes, he's definitely enjoying this way too much.
"Two days, less than twenty percent." I wait till their laughter is down below window-rattling before making any attempt at completing the answer. "Explains a bit of why Angelus was such a bastard, doesn't it?"
At both their nods, I have to share a half smile. And within his cage, my demon rages at the disloyalty of his clan's young ones.
Ok, it makes some sense. Except he keeps talking about weak demons and strong vampires, and isn't that just talking in circles. Uh... now's probably a good time to ask too, keep these two from starting one of their sniping contests.
"Hold on there, gramps. You just spouted a huge contradiction, didn't ya?"
Yeah, that got their attention.
"I'm sorry, Xander. As I said a few times already, I knew my explanations weren't all that clear. This is... not a situation in which I have any familiarity."
"Gods! You sound just like Giles when you're flustered." Can't help laughing at him. He's too funny when he gets all ruffled.
"Right. You said that strong human traits equals a weaker demon spirit. But then you went and said it takes a strong and wily demon spirit to race in and grab the more powerful about-to-be-vamps. Make up your mind, would ya?"
So there. Answer me this, jedi master.
I have to agree with the boy - that wasn't my finest foray into vampire lore.
Nodding at him, I try to rephrase it. "I meant that the demonic spirit taking over residence would have a weaker hold on the remaining parts of the human soul. Your demon is almost as strong as Angelus, and you're less than a full week old. That in itself would be cause for alarm, if you didn't have so much of your soul still intact." Should I tell him the rest? Probably so... he'll likely smell my omission. "If that had been the case, I wouldn't have hesitated in staking you."
My muscles tense in preparation of attack, but all I get is a shared look between them. They most certainly wouldn't go down without a fight, but can they truly communicate so easily this early?
"No offense, gramps, but neither of us would be getting dusty."
Oh my. The boy practically radiates power. It takes all my strength of will to stop myself from letting Angelus just take him, taste and fuck and make the boy submit. NO!
Peaches's gettin all bumpy, as Red would say. Heh, bet the bastard within wants out to claim m'boy. Not gonna happen. 'Fore he can get to his feet, I'm in front of my sire an have his throat locked tween my hands.
"Lissen here, sire, Xander is MY childe. An my lover. You can accept him into the family proper-like, or you can ignore us like you've done me an Dru all these years. But ya ain't gonna get yer hands on MY BOY like you did me back when. An if I gotta slap some sense into both yer stubborn split personalities, I'll do it twice a day and thrice on Sundays. Got that, peaches? You've got no claim on MY lion."
Well, whattaya know. Maybe I can keep calm round the poof, when I hafta.
Mmm.... should I be getting this turned on, just from watching my sire (lover!) and grandsire fighting over... what are they fighting over? Who gets to train me? Uh, don't I get a say in this? Oh wait, of course not. Never get to decide for myself anything.
"Spike, I'm glad and all that you're proud to be my sire, and you'll never hear me turning down great sex, but what's with this battle of the balls? I mean, we all know you've got a huge pair - metaphorically and literally. And I don't wanna see Angel's, but he's probably got a set too. So unless you guys are planning some sort of ((cough)) cockfight, and are willing to let me sell tickets, then why don't the both of you BACK THE FUCK OFF! Cus Jeez, this is stupid. Does it really matter who trains me that much? We both know that you're going to always have more influence with me than him. So why can't you just drop the big broody vamp and come cuddle with me..." Wonder if it'll work... Look up at him from beneath my eyelashes, nibble bottom lip and flash just a tiny little smile. "Besides, all these pheromones are making me horny. Come take care of it for me?"
Heh yeah, it works great. WOAH almost too great! Dammit, I liked those leather pants.
Feckin hell that sorry bastard won't take what's mine again. Don't care that he's me sire. Don't matter that he's bigger, older, meaner. MINE MY Xanpet. Gods luv, can't imagine bein without ya anymore.
Lil lion's speach barely soaks through my brain. Somethin bout balls an sellin tickets - didn't figure him for exhibitionism just yet, but if he wants... Trainin? Who said anythin bout that? Oh yeah, peaches. But that isn't what all this is about, yeah? Cuddle? Horny? Fuck yeah!
Mmm, my childe, beautiful lover, "Xanluv." Too many clothes in the way. Hope he wasn't too attached to them. Can get more. Nothin tween us, never!
Jus take enough time to growl at the poof 'fore draggin m'boy's face to my neck. Need to reclaim him, here, in front of the bastard. Before Angel loses hold of'im.
Gods, I love when Spike gets all possessive and pushy like this. It takes me several minutes to remember that we've got an audience, and by that time we're both nekkid and dripping. In several different places. Huh, forgot to lick his neck... hold still, ya slippery limey! Mmm, naked twister - now if only we had some lube handy...
Whatinhell? He's actually gonna let me fuck'im in front of Angel? Soddin Hell!
Only thing that'd make it better is... ((sigh)) dammit, guess I'm still that wet, nancy boy after all. Want the approval of me family. An Angel's that, even if he don't wanna act like it. Bet me an Xan can put on a hot enough show to drag'im in though.
Mmm yeah, jus like that, sweet boy. Gotta love oral fixations, yeah? Lovely childe don't leave a single spot on my chest unlicked, unnibbled, unloved. Can hear sire growlin softly from his seat, but he hasn't made a move toward us yet. No rush, ya flamin idiot. Enjoyin myself here.
There's something wicked and wonderful and a total fuck-me-now turnon about getting all groiny in front of Angel, knowing he can't join in without losing his soul. Except it doesn't work that way, does it... he's gotta have that moment of pure happiness, and no way would he find that with two vampires he can't normally stand sharing un-breathing room with, right?
Which means... what, exactly? Something tells me that Spike wants his sire to re-claim him. Strengthen the ties between them that've come unravelled over the past century. But where does that put me? And does he have to claim me too, as head of the clan? Gods! So many things I need to learn.
Wonder if I can get Willow to set up a computer for me to store all this stuff I've gotta study. Uh, oh shit, forgot about that - she probably won't wanna talk to me now. Or at least not enough to find out if I've got a soul. Which, hey! In a way I still do. That's kinda neat, kinda wierd, and way wiggins-worthy.
Oh man, the watchers! They either don't know about this stuff, or they do and have purposefully kept that info from their slayers. Gods, poor Buffster. She's gonna freak when she finds out. If she'll believe me.
Poor Giles too. He really gets hit hard when someone or something he believes in turns out to be a load of bunk. At least he's lost most of his faith in the Council, right? Hope he'll listen to me. Maybe grab Tara and let her tell him what she sees in my aura.
And why the hell am I worrying about this stuff when hello Spike's swallowing my brains via my dick. ((PURR)) He's so damned good at that. Guess he had loads of practice on Angelus. And that mental image doesn't bring on the jealousy like before. Maybe cus here's Angel, looking like he'd give his left nut to join but is forcing himself to stay out of it. Could almost feel sorry for the jerk. Almost.
Boy slipped off to somewhere else, jus as we were gettin to the good part. Can't have that, gotta bring his mind back to the present, so I can blow it away. Heh, figure of speach. Or not, considerin how responsive my lovely is, how much he throws himself into shaggin.
No time or patience to find some slick for us. Wanna be inside him NOW, however I can. Guess he gets a bit o' tongue first, yeah? Doubt he'll complain bout a quick rimjob. ((grr)) My boy! Always taste so good, ya do. Yeah pet, like strokin my back while my tongue's up your ass, dontcha? Pettin me like I'm some big cat. ((Grr)) Can be that an more, if ya want. Anythin for you, my perfect sweet Xander.
Huh, peaches movin around behind me. Prolly wankin off watchin us. Feckin curse, ruinin what should be a welcome party. Bring m'boy into the clan right, leave'im where he can't walk for days. Mmm, he'd look magnificent all covered in cum an blood like that. Maybe tied across a king-sized mattress, spread eagle an waitin to be taken. Or one of those swings for grownups, where all a body's holes are open for business... ((Purr))
Gotta work with what we've got for now. Tacky old couch that reeks of mildew, spit for slick, audience of one who isn't even showin any appreciation. But as long as my boy's here, it'll be brilliant.
They're trying to drive me crazy. It's a fiendish plan, and one guaranteed to work. No matter how much I resist, I'll have dreams of them - together, writhing and moaning and growling - for years to come. ((groan)) No pun intended.
My soul might not be a demon, might rebel against all things vampiric, but it's tied with the demon just enough that every scent, sound or taste is enough to almost force me to join their fun. Dammit, William came here to be reclaimed, not just to have my approval or guidance with his childe. Both parts of me know this, but the risk of letting Angelus loose is...
... almost nothing. Moment of true happiness? Couldn't be from taking these lascivious demons in hot, dirty sex to draw them back into the fold of clan. As master, it's my job, isn't it? My duty. Responsibility.
Oh fuck it.
Heh, knew it wouldn't take that much. Angel's got less impulse control than Spike does. And that's saying something! Hell, even I'm better than he is... unless it involves chocolate. Then all bets are off.
I can practically see when he makes up his mind. It's like this trigger went off, and his expression changed from his usual hate-me-hurt-me to dawning lust. At least we didn't have to thwap him into it. Not like we don't all know about the curse and its restrictions.
Sire hasn't twigged in yet, and it'd be funny to see his reaction. So I'm just gonna lay here and enjoy, and let Angel do his surprise attack.
Mmm... two sexy vamps, all for me. Huh?! No way! I don't want Mighty Moose. I don't! Doesn't matter if he's got ((drool)) nice pecs. Fuck, LA demons must give a great workout. Solid stomach muscles rippling as he stalks toward us, slowly unzipping his pants. Oh. My. Sweet. Lord. Buffy lied. Not that she had any experience, but this is more than 'above average'. Where's he planning on sticking that thing?!
Can tell he's right behind me. Finally got it through that over-processed head o' his that he's safe as houses with us. Jus a lil closer...
Yeah that's right, peaches. Come join the fun. Been way too long since ya claimed me properly. Gotta make my wonderful boy welcome too, right? Jus don't go all poncy on me 'n be nice. Don't need preparin, ya great tit!
"Sire, stop yer lollygaggin an fuck me already."
Never was one for subtle. Neither was he.
"William, you forget your place, boy."
Mmm yeah, that's sire!
It's so damned difficult, keeping the demon caged but still letting enough out to do this right. My boy needs... me? Angelus? Who knows. He needs this connection, and just maybe I can give it to him.
Can definitely give him something. And isn't that a telling point that it's been too long? Years of hearing his sexual banter and taunts, then a century without... and it all slips back into place so easily. Makes me wonder if I can't find some way of balancing soul and demon like these two have.
Though now is hardly the time to worry about that. There's a pair of willing incubi writhing on my living room floor, eagerly waiting on me to bring them pleasure, pain (in Spike's case), to bring them into the fold. Heaven forgive me, but this is something I must do.
The Powers may not have meant for me to be celibate, but they haven't exactly made it easy for me to form relationships either. This bond isn't theirs to dictate. Family is family, and it's... oh who am I kidding. They need the claim, the affirmation into clan, and I need to get laid. So much for mature reasoning.
Gods do these two ever stop thinking?!
"Spike, Angel, would you two just shut up your internal monologues and get on with the fucking? Some of us are developing a severe case of blue balls here."
Yeah right, but it got their attention.
Nothing ritualistic bout this. No fancy mojo or deeply intoned words of power. Jus bodies slappin together, workin toward le petit morte. Yeah, William the scholar is still in there ((sigh)).
An finally, he pushes in, damn near breaks me in half! It's been so very long. ((purr)) Time for me to skewer m'boy, make this perfect. At least perfect for me'n him. Can't afford to let the poof off that easily though.
Hot an sweaty (an howinhell does Xan still sweat?) an carryin the sweet groans of men an demons. This is what it's supposed to be like. ((Purr))
Can't get any better... unless he'll... oh bloody feckin hell YES! Hope Xan'll forgive me for makin this quick. ((PURR))
Tight like a velvet vice, wrapped around and choking me, pulling every ounce of unnecessary oxygen from my body. Gods have I missed this body. Been too long, and I know I can't hold out. Want to feel him clenching around me first, and the best way to do that is biting his neck. From the reaction that gets, I'd say he wanted it as much as me.
Lucky he's so slim. It doesn't take much to lean over his shoulder, feeling him quiver and shake beneath me, and latch on to Xander's throat. The boy's already orgasmed once from his sire's bite, but this needs be done as well. Yeah, like I don't want to taste that rich blood. ((snort))
It's over too soon, and I'm sure they'll leave now. Might be another hundred years before this happens again. I can't help feeling depressed over the loss. Especially now that I know... what? How much Spike needs the clan, that feeling of family? How much Xander needs the same? If I'm totally honest with myself, I do as well. But is it worth the chance of letting free the crazed beast within me?
Damn, maybe I'm every bit as melodramatic as William always accused me of being.
Still, I don't feel the soul losing hold. For now at least, the demon is still locked in its cage. There's no reason to deny them however long they need for this togetherness thing, right? Just knowing that they'll leave soon is enough to keep the thrice-damned curse from going off.
In the meantime, maybe they'll stick around for another go.
Mmm... ok so it's been established that vampire bites can cause intense orgasms. But fuck! I've never come that hard twice in so short a period of time before. ((Purr!)) Hope they don't have plans for the night, cus as soon as I grab a snack - twinkies and chocolate milk sounds good - they're gonna get jumped again.
Oh hey, look! Blue eyes finally opening, and damn do they look... blitzed. Heh. All fucked out, are ya sire? I gotta tease him, just a little.
"Spike, you look like a well-fucked ragdoll. Limp and reeking of cum. But hey, it works on you." Yeah yeah, whatever. No one said I had to be really witty after mind-blowing sex.
He just looks at me, smiles his blindingly brilliant grin, and nuzzles... Angel's neck? Ok... Hell with it. Deadboy's family, and vamp families have sex. He didn't fuck me, but he sucked my brains out - through a vein, but it worked - so maybe we can all just mellow out here for a bit.
Bet I can guess what's going through my sire's head right now. ((snicker)) A few mental purrs, some self-satisfied growls, a bunch of white noise, and a little part that nags 'when are we doing it again?' really loud.
Too long. Can't give it up again. Won't let him.
Sandwiched tween my beloved childe and the 'gentle giant' version 2.2 of me sire.
Knew he couldn't resist us. Never was big with denyin his creature comforts.
Not lettin him stick his big gelled head back in the sand either.
Now... what's his recharge time again?
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