Title: Fluids

Author: DeAnna Zankich

Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

E-mail: crissyd33@yahoo.com

Rating: NC-17

Status: New/Complete

Pairing:Angel/Spike (references to het pairings, but no written graphics)

Spoilers:Only very general, the story is mostly AU. Timeline-wise, this takes place sometime before Buffy makes Angel "feel like a human being" the first time.

Notes: Please excuse the occasional stylistic homage to Mrs. Rice. Due to the nature and time frame of my story, it just couldn't be avoided.

Disclaimer:Characters are property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, Inc. Grrr. Argh.

Summary:Feeling the need for a confessional of sorts, Angel drops in on Giles for a chat about the old days.

Dedication:For Paul, my fearless dark angel, for helping me shine light into my shadowy corners. For Judith as a gift (kinks are us, punkin'--over a million served!) For my beautiful red-haired angels in Warrington for everything you contributed to this story, but mostly for your inspiration. And for each of my lovely readers who crossed fandoms to follow me here. You guys rock in the hardest way. Thank you. I promise I'll make it worth your while-but I am going to push you a little bit with this one.


Fluids
by DeAnna Zankich


Giles:

Sleep eluded him once again and the wee hours found Giles sitting in his livingroom with a glass of scotch re-reading a letter from an old friend in England. The handwritten text contained a story of a wedding he had been unable to attend. Smiling sadly, he imagined his friends across the pond celebrating without him. Such things were far behind him now. Just like his young charge, his responsibilities made his life a solitary one.

A slight breeze touched his neck, raising the hairs there. Something in his house had changed. Instinctively, Giles peered down the darkened hall toward his bedroom. Angel stood in the doorway there, dressed beautifully in tailored black trousers and a heavy grey wool overcoat.

"Hello," Giles offered, his throat tightening uneasily. "Buffy's not here."

"I know." Angel moved down the hall with preternatural grace, but with human footfalls. Once in the golden glow of the lamplight, Giles could see the creature's eyes. Uncharacteristically, Angel
seemed wan and tired.

"Right, then . . . what can I do for you?" He leaned forward and placed his friend's letter on the coffee table, never taking his eyes off his unexpected guest. If he had learned anything in his recent travels, it was never to trust the undead.

"I smelled the scotch," the vampire said. "I thought I might impose on you for a drink."

Giles blinked. "Of course. Right. Certainly." He stood and went to the kitchen where he collected a clean glass and the bottle of spirits. Handing the glass to Angel, he poured generously.

"Thank you." Angel touched his glass to his host's. "To your health."

The watcher smiled weakly at the irony of the toast, then drank to it. His own health was often on his mind when in the presence of Buffy's unlikely paramour. "Please," he said. "Sit down."

Angel slipped out of his overcoat and draped it on the arm of the couch. Under it he wore a fine cream-colored button down shirt that had clearly been handmade for him. Sitting down, he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped before him. Angel had something on his mind.

Crossing back to his chair, Giles sat down and tried to appear at ease. He sipped his scotch faster than he should have, waiting for Angel to reveal the reason he'd come.

"I hope you don't mind," Angel began. "I've just . . . had a strange few days. I didn't feel like being out there tonight."

"You do seem a bit out of sorts," Giles said, trying his best to be congenial. "Are you all right?"

Angel took a thoughtful sip of his drink, swirling the slightly oily liquid in his glass. "I've been having some intense dreams," he said softly. "Actually, they're memories . . . visions. From my past."

"Oh?" Giles said, his voice sounding awkwardly squeezed. The mere mention of Angel's dark history made his skin crawl with gooseflesh. He did not enjoy being alone with this creature. A flat glimmer of darkness lurked just below the surface of this apparently redeemed sinner at all times. In Angel's eyes, Giles always saw the shadow of things burning.

"I feel like there's something specific I'm supposed to remember," the vampire said. His already husky voice was even more raw that night, as though he'd been doing a lot of screaming. "I think my memories are trying to show me something I need to know right now. I think they're trying to warn me."

Although Giles' curiosity was strong, he wished he could push it down. He was certain he did not want to know about the cold horrors in Angel's memory-unless of course, the knowing could be of use. Tentatively, he said "have you been dreaming of a certain event or person?"

Angel's eyes locked on his for a hard, palpable second. "Spike."

Giles frowned. "Spike? What about him? Specifically."

The hint of a smile passed over Angel's face and then he looked down into his glass. He seemed to be searching for his next words there. "You don't know everything about us, Rupert," he said
finally.

"Of course not." Giles leaned forward, not wishing to miss any of the words that were coming. "We know only what we need to about any of you. Statistics, facts, but nothing . . . truly personal. Only what we need to help . . ."

"Exterminate us."

That time it was Giles who looked down into his drink. This subject was always so peculiar when he was speaking with Angel. He never knew exactly how to feel. Guilt always seemed to rise to the top of the heap, but he was never sure why. Angel was a demon and it was Rupert Giles' destiny to kill demons. But this individual always complicated matters.

"Well, you don't know much about . . . the way we spent our days then," Angel said.

"Then?" Giles asked. "Back in Europe?"

Angel nodded slowly, then took another sip. "I don't know why I want to tell you this. The dreams are just so disturbing . . . I didn't know who else to talk to."

"Well, perhaps I can help you sort through the details more clearly. To see what's there that you might need." Asking Angel to confide in him made Giles feel even more guilty. But having some bit of personal history that wasn't available in the diaries might prove to be a very helpful tool in the future. Just in case things went wrong with Angel somehow.

"You have to promise you won't tell Buffy," Angel said, his expression open, almost childlike. "She wouldn't understand." He let out a mirthless laugh. "Not that you will, either."

Giles tried to smile. "You might be surprised. Under this dusty, shambling exterior lies the remnants of a very adventurous young man."

Angel looked at him then, so closely that Giles felt the gaze physically. He wondered if this was how Angel seduced his prey back in those feral days in the old country. This gaze was so seductive and so willful. When a warm tingling began in his belly, Giles thought it best to look away.

"I bet you were," Angel said quietly, in the manner of a compliment. "I can see it."

Settling back in his chair, Giles crossed his ankle over his knee and again tried to give the appearance of ease. "Right, then. Please go on. If I can be of some help by listening, I'm happy to do so."

Angel lifted his glass to his lips and drained it in two big gulps, then reached for the bottle on the table. "Not a word to Buffy?" he said again.

"Not a peep."

The vampire seemed convinced as he refilled his glass. "The dreams I've been having are so vivid," he began. "They center around the months after Dru made Spike . . . William. When he was still a young vampire." Angel's expression misted briefly. "Sometimes there would be this frank innocence about him, like a holdover from his human youth. There were times when he would look at me with such . . . defenselessness. Such trust." He gave Giles a little smile. "I'm
sure you find that hard to believe."

"Well, now that you mention it," Giles said reticently. "We are still talking about the same Spike, right?"

"Yes," Angel said. "Things were very different in the beginning. When the four of us were our own debauched little family. That's the most disturbing thing about these dreams. It's all so real. It
feels like it's happening again. Or will happen again."

"Like what is happening again?"

Angel was quiet for such a long time that Giles thought he might not reply. Then he made the unconscious motion of taking a deep breath as he made himself more comfortable in his seat. "I was his teacher, you know. His mentor. For everything."

"Yes, that's all in the watcher diaries."

"William not only wanted to learn from me, he wanted to BE me. He wanted so badly to please me."

Giles swallowed, watching Angel's luminous face very closely. He could feel in the air that something brand new was about to be revealed-something that would change the big picture. And suddenly, as if he had always known it, the revelation slid seamlessly into place. It was all quite obvious, really, given the mysterious and vague details they had about the practices of the Order of Aurelius. Giles decided to keep his thoughts to himself for the time being. He was suddenly most interested in what Angel might share with him.

"Go on," he urged. He took another sip of scotch to wash away the sour taste of his ulterior motive and waited for Angel to begin.

"The time I'm dreaming of more than anything else is right after we arrived in Yorkshire in the late 1890's. We went there because Dru wanted to see the ruins of Fountains Abbey. She was drawn there for some reason."

"It's a lovely spot," Giles said, trying not to stammer. He glanced at his friend's letter on the coffee table with his heart racing, but tried not to show his apprehension on his face. The wedding
described in the letter took place on the grounds at Fountains Abbey only a few weeks earlier. Taking a deep breath, he hoped it might just be an odd coincidence.

"William disappeared when we got there," Angel continued. "He just ran off somewhere for a week straight. When he came back, he was cut and bleeding and looked like he'd been chained up in a basement somewhere-but he said he'd just been out playing. Torturing locals and all."

"How thoughtful of him," Giles joked.

"Yeah, he's always been considerate that way," Angel grinned darkly. "I keep remembering this one night so clearly." He sighed and the sound was a perfect imitation-just like exhaled breath. When he spoke again, his voice was a confidential husk. "I think . . . I feel guilty about it."

"Guilty? Why?"

His eyes glittered with an enigmatic smirk, then he seemed to change his mind about his next statement. "I took a great deal of pleasure in corrupting young William. I excelled at it, too. And he absorbed my lessons so well."

"Yes, he must have been an excellent student," Giles said and they glanced at each other knowingly.

"Rupert, I think it would help me to talk about this, but if it would make you too uncomfortable, I understand. It's not a story for the squeamish."

"Well," Giles laughed softly. "Squeamishness is the first thing to go when one accepts his duties as a watcher. I think I can handle it. And, further . . . I'd like to know. I promise not to whinge."

"If you're sure."

"Absolutely."

As Angel began, Giles held his breath and wondered if he really would be able to handle the tale-but by then it was too late to turn back.

******

Angelus:

Dru had snagged her dress on a rose bush outside the crumbling knave at Fountains Abbey. She'd tugged and tugged and finally just tore the fabric to free herself. Her dress hung in shreds of lace and silk around her naked legs and this made her laugh in an hysterical, wrenching way. The sound was like nails being driving into Angelus' ears and he'd walked away from her to escape it. He had always hated Drusilla's dry, splintered laugh.

He and the girls had gorged themselves on a mill owner's family and he felt heavy with their sweet, warm blood. Darla had wandered off to look at flowers in the moonlight and he walked by himself for over a mile until he felt certain Dru was far behind. Angelus had almost reached their hotel when he first sensed William had returned to their rooms. He could feel the young one's energy and smell his lean, agile body in the air. Licking his lips, he sniffed the fragrant night again.

"Our wandering lad returns," he said to himself. He started off toward the hotel, eyes fixed on the row of windows he knew were theirs. He saw a shadow move behind the lace curtains, travelling
from one room to the next, landing in the en suite washroom. Angelus slipped undetected through the hotel doorway and took the stairs quickly to their rooms.

A fire blazed in the sitting room's hearth and the acrid smell of vodka permeated the air, almost overpowering the subtler odors of blood and soil and tobacco. And William's scent. That soft mixture of ginger and butter, honey and salt. Angelus went to the washroom door and rapped hard on it twice.

"Go away," William muttered from inside. "I'm washin'."

"Are you all right?" Angelus asked through the door.

"Ducky. Now piss off."

Angelus tried the doorknob and found it locked. Even though he could force that puny lock with almost no effort, he chose momentarily to allow the boy his privacy. But he rattled the knob nonetheless, to show his displeasure.

"I said, PISS OFF!" William bellowed. "Don't bloody bother me!"

Behind him, Angelus heard the door to the suite open, then the soft rustle of silken skirts and the titter of feminine voices. He felt Dru press up behind him, peering at the door as though she could see through it. One never knew with Dru. Perhaps she could. When he turned to her, he could smell the night in her silky black hair.

"What's he doin'?" she said.

"Washing," Angelus told her. "He doesn't wish to be disturbed."

She lowered her chin and smiled with her eyes. "I won't disturb him. Lamb?" she called in her whimsical accent. "Do you want me to wash your back?"

Rolling his eyes, Angelus stepped away and joined Darla in the sitting room.

Standing by the crackling fire, she regarded him coolly when he entered the room. "Where's the little one been?" she asked, plucking her gloves off one finger at a time.

Sprawling on the finely upholstered settee, he propped his feet up on the cocktail table. "Who knows? He's barricaded in the washroom and won't talk."

"Is he hurt?"

"Not badly," he said. "The wounds I can smell aren't deep. But he bled."

Having freed her hands from her white lace gloves, Darla set to taking the pins out of her prettily arranged hair. One blonde tendril at a time, her hair fell down in curls that bounced gently against her shoulders. Angelus let his eyes travel up and down her body, lingering on the voluptuous curve of her hips. He loved fucking Darla. She had such an exquisite appetite. Darla fucked like a man.

"Come here, luv," he purred using the soft remains of his Galway accent. Darla liked his brogue. She said it was manly. He beckoned her with his hand.

Looking over her shoulder at him again, her chin nestled in her newly freed curls. "You've fucked me until I bled for the last three nights, Angelus," Darla said. "I'm done for a bit. I want to know
where our boy has been."

"So, go ask him," he said irritably.

She walked behind the settee in a faint flurry of silk and into the next room. Dru was still cooing through the door, making gentle, lewd suggestions of how she wanted to help William bathe. Her
efforts were getting her nowhere, but at least the boy wasn't barking at her. Darla announced herself, asked if she could come in and Angelus heard the petulant young one refuse her, as well. Dru started to say something else and then William shouted at them both.

That was enough. Angelus stomped back to the washroom door and shoved the girls aside. Grabbing the doorknob, he twisted it once harshly and the flimsy metal buckled in his grip. He stepped into the steamy room and closed the door behind him, standing there for a moment while his eyes adjusted to the low light.

William had lit only one beeswax candle in the room and its heady scent of honey filled the humid air. He sat on the edge of the tub naked in the pale illumination with his feet dipped in the hot water. His eyes were fixed on the inside of his left wrist. He never looked up, but he spoke to his intruder softly.

"I distinctly recall telling you to piss off. Are you deaf?"

"I heard you," Angelus said, stripping off his top coat and hanging it on a hook on the back of the door. The steam in the room was thick as fog and he rolled his shirtsleeves up to cool his arms. "I
just didn't agree with you. I can smell your wounds."

William did not respond. He sat there with his feet in the water and continued to stare at his wrist.

Angelus approached him guardedly, very much aware that he was unwelcome in the close room. William was young, but he moved with alarming swiftness when provoked. Angelus stood behind him for a moment, waiting to see if there would be any adverse reaction. From that vantage point, he could see the cut in the young one's arm-deep and long, angry looking.

"Where did you get that?" he said, keeping his voice low and soothing.

After a long time, William answered. "Iron gate. Reckon I misjudged my ability to scale it."

Carefully, slowly Angelus knelt down beside the tub and held out his hand, waiting for William to put his wounded wrist into it. When they looked at each other, William's eyes were round and wide. He was trembling and his color was wrong. He hadn't fed yet that night.

"It's closing," he said. "Look at it. It's just . . . bloody closing!"

Angelus observed the wound in question, watching as the ragged flesh began to knit itself back together at an almost imperceptible rate. If he hadn't been looking right at it, he wouldn't have seen it at all.

"It will get faster as you grow stronger," he explained. "When you're as old as I am, you won't even see the skin heal itself. You'll be cut, you'll be healed. Just like that."

William stared at the wound more intently. "Christ-LOOK at that!"

The bloody gash was narrowing as they watched, filling in and filling in until it was just a long scratch running parallel with the life line in William's palm. When the cut had all but disappeared,
Angelus leaned forward and opened his lips over the spot where the wound had been. He dabbed at it with his tongue, licking the then miniscule trace of the cut up and down, over and over, caressing it, tickling it and stroking it until it was all gone.

"Why are you doing that?" William whispered, his voice hoarse and scraped.

Angelus continued to lick up the slightly salty skin of William's lean arm until he reached the tender pit. Finally he let his teeth enjoy a little nip at the cool crease there. All the heat on
William's body was on the outside, from the bath water. His crevices were cold.

"Oi," he said. "Why did you lick me like that?"

"Because you taste good," he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "And because it felt good, didn't it?"

The young one frowned uncertainly.

Angelus touched the former wound with his fingertip. "My saliva will keep you from getting scarred."

"I can SCAR?" he demanded incredulously. "My body will repair itself like that and it will still scar? That's daft!"

"You won't scar this time," Angelus said. "I know how vain you are. You should thank me."

Ignoring the insult, William said "what, is your spit magic or something?"

"It's magic enough to keep you from scarring." He sat on the floor of the small bathroom and reached for the bottle of vodka on the edge of the tub.

William blinked at him, sharp blue eyes full of suspicious wonder. "If your spit will do that, what would your blood do, then? If I drank from you."

"If you were dying and drank from me, you would be revived. And stronger for it."

"And if I'm not dying? What happens if I drink from you right now?"

Angelus offered a surreptitious smile. "Well . . . you would feel like . . ."

"Like wha'?"

"Like . . . you were flying. Your whole body would vibrate and tingle."

They stared at each other for a long moment and Angelus could see William's mind working. The thoughts swirled and crossed each other, feeding and gathering from one another. His eyes flashed with cunning interest.

"Sounds good. So let me drink," he said finally.

Angelus tipped the bottle to his mouth and took several deep sips of the clear liquor. Licking his lips, he offered the vodka, but William shook his head.

"I want to drink YOU."

Angelus set the bottle down and stood, reaching for a towel that was hung on the wall. "Dry yourself and come to bed, then. You can drink all you want." He opened the door and found Dru and Darla sitting just outside it, eavesdropping while they played cat's cradle with a mud-streaked pink satin hair ribbon. He recognized it immediately as the same ribbon the mill owner's daughter had been wearing in her hair before Dru drained all the blood out of her young body.

Dru's eyes blazed at him for an instant, then she looked into the bathroom at her wayward young man. "Lamb? Are you all right?" she all but sang. She crawled into the room like a stalking panther, the pink ribbon discarded on the floor. The ragged hem of her filthy dress rumpled under her bony shins as she advanced toward the tub.

William had the towel draped around his neck and she reached for it, balancing on her knees as she opened the nubbly fabric over his shoulders.

"Oooohh, so many little cuts, darling," she said, kissing his neck and licking at one of the tiny abrasions. "What have you got into?"

William relaxed against her and let her dry his arms. "It's nothing, pet. I'm fine."

At the bathroom door Darla stood, raising up on her toes to look right into Angelus' eyes. She scrutinized him for a long moment and he allowed this, meeting her confrontive gaze fearlessly.

"What are you planning?" she said, her voice a conspiratorial hiss. "You're letting him drink from you?"

"After he's fed. We wouldn't want him to kill me because he's hungry, now would we?" Stepping away from her, Angelus walked to the big unmade canopy bed and stretched across it.

Darla glanced in through the open bathroom door, then turned her attention back to him across the room. She sauntered to the foot of the bed where she knelt down softly. Her curls bounced gently as she crept forward on the crumpled sheets and she offered him her most lustful, inviting smile. Stunning, she was, like a big doll that had been left out in the rain. The bib of her light green silk dress was streaked with bloody fingerprints and clots of wet soil, but her skin was immaculate.

Watching her approach, he frowned slightly. "Didn't you just say you were too raw to fuck me?"

She crouched on the bed and nibbled the fleshy pad of his thumb, then she drew the digit into her mouth and gave it a good hard sucking. Her eyes sparkled the whole time and he had to fight himself not to respond or show any pleasure. He was angry with her for refusing him before and wanted her to know it.

"Darla," he said. "Be a dear and bring William someone to eat. He hasn't fed and he's wounded."

Her expression went flat and cold and she released his thumb immediately. Whipping her shapely legs over the edge of the bed, she stood beside him and glowered. "Angelus, I'm tired," she said
disdainfully. "Can't he hunt for himself?"

He merely looked at her. There was no argument to be made here, clearly she must do as she was told or be prepared to fight about it. Roughly. But Darla had never been one to do unpleasant bidding quietly.

"I said I'm tired," she insisted. "I'm full and I want to rest."

"Why were you just trying to seduce me, then?" he said in a cruel whisper.

Darla blinked, then her lips spread in a chilling smile. "You said you were going to let him drink from you."

"So?" he said, but he knew why she was interested. She wanted to be there when William's erection became so full and throbbing from Angelus' blood coursing through him that he would beg for release. Darla had a particular kink for watching men writhe with sexual hunger.

Before she could reply, Drusilla emerged from the bathroom and seemed to float across the floor to the bed. She leaned forward until she could touch Angelus' body, then she snuck her cold fingers up under the leg of his trousers until she found his naked skin. She tickled the hairs above his ankle with her long fingernails.

"Daddy," she purred.

"Yes, my dear?" He could feel Darla's seething jealousy at this kindness toward Dru. As much as they all liked to share pleasure with each other, loyalties did exist. Assertion of those loyalties often made for wonderfully vicious play.

"Are you going to feed my William?" Drusilla asked, still tickling the tender skin of his ankle. "If you are, I want to watch . . ."

Angelus favored her with a smile. "Sweet one, I'm going to ask you to do me a very special favor," he said, his voice sugary and thick with purpose. He leaned forward and took hold of her arm above her wrist, gently extracting her hand from his pant leg. He brought her fingers to his lips and took care to kiss them each individually.

"Yes, my angel?" Drusilla said, her voice a breathy shell of itself.

"I want you to go with Darla and get someone for your William to eat." Angelus looked in the girl's large, pale eyes, scanning for any sign of repudiation. So far, there was none. "I want you to
bring him someone tasty and plump, all right? Someone with very, very sweet blood."

She sighed a laugh and her eyes drifted closed as though she were experiencing some delicious pleasure. "Oh, yes . . ." she said. "I'll bring him someone sooo yummy."

Angelus kissed her hand again. "That's my girl. Now take Darla with you. I want to be alone with William for a while."

Darla heaved a petulant sigh behind him and he turned to her.

"I said I don't want to go out again!" she spat.

Eyes fixed on his sire, Angelus waited in cold, unyielding silence.

Drusilla glided around the bottom of the bed, slinking up to Darla's side where she snuggled very softly against her. "Come with me, sister," she said. "We'll find someone lovely to bring back for my William."

Darla continued to glare at Angelus, but only for another moment. Turning on her heel, she nearly topped Drusilla as she headed for the door of their suite, dragging the waifish brunette by her wrist.

Pleased at his victory, Angelus smirked as he watched the two of them leave. Then he turned his attention to the washroom door. He waited, watching William's shadow move in the steamy room, then finally the young vampire emerged. He crossed the bedroom slowly on unstable legs, naked and rubbing his loosely curly hair with the towel. A perfect sight, he was-pale skin splotched pink in places from the bathwater, scratches and bruises mottling his long legs and belly. So thin yet so sinewy and taut. His flat belly rippled with muscles which made a delectable path to the down of his blond pubic hair.

And then there was that full, heavy cock, swaying gently with each step he took.

Angelus had seen it many times before-usually when it was erect and sliding in and out of one of the girls. He'd never said so, but he had always admired it. Thick and meaty it was. A handsome
appendage, indeed. Looking at it then made him salivate.

Sitting up, he moved back on the bed, propping himself against the vast pile of pillows at the headboard. He smoothed the rumpled sheets with his hand and pat the mattress next to him. "Lie beside me. I'll warm your skin."

William hesitated and in those few seconds, he seemed strangely shy. His brow knit and he chewed his lip, eyes assessing Angelus from head to toe. His thoughts were plain-he was both frightened and aroused by the situation of them being alone together-but what he would do
remained to be seen.

"I won't bite," Angelus teased. "Oh, wait-yes, I will." He offered a debauched chuckle, deep in his throat and the desired result was achieved.

William almost smiled, then he tipped forward and crawled across the large mattress, lying down along Angelus' side. For a moment, neither of them moved. They both lay still, very close but not yet touching, and William dropped the wet towel over the side of the bed.

"Where did you send the girls?" he said.

"Out. To feed you. I'm sure they'll bring back something outstanding." Angelus could smell the soap the young one had used on his skin and in his hair. Jasmine and mint, a bit of rose oil. He
lifted his hand and gently toyed with the thick blond curls at the base of William's neck. The hair was still damp and warm from the bath. It felt slick and good to the touch.

"What happened to you out there?" he whispered.

The answer took ages to come and when it did, it was only "things."

"Were you captured?"

Subtle shake of the head.

"Attacked?"

No response.

Angelus let his fingers play in those wet curls, irresistible against William's vulnerable, boyish neck. "You won't tell me how you got wounded?"

"Did tell you. Iron gate, poor judge of distance." William pressed his nose against Angelus' side, sniffing the soft fabric of his linen shirt. "You had a cigar."

"I drained a man who'd just lit a fine one. Would have been rude not to finish it." Fingers in curls, nails tickling the nape of the neck. Angelus waited for the inevitable shiver and was soon rewarded.

William's fingers moved the linen out of the way until his lips touched Angelus' naked side. He sniffed the skin languorously, seeming to taste the older vampire through the breath.

"Are you hungry?" Angelus murmured, stroking the young one's shoulders with light, playful fingertips. "You must be . . ."

William purred a growl and closed his eyes, his thick lashes brushing Angelus' side. He licked the skin there, running his tongue in a wet line into the hollow of a rib. It tickled nicely and Angelus felt his nipples harden from the sensation. William was sampling him, testing his flavor and texture. The cool, wet licks grew slightly more insistent until he began making his way up and over Angelus' belly. Shifting on the bed, William draped his arm over his companion's hips, pulling him greedily toward him.

Now those wet laps were slick with saliva, tantalizingly cold on Angelus' fed, warmed skin. He let his hand travel down William's naked back, feeling each vertebrae, circling the cap of the tailbone. The boy's hips lifted unconsciously toward the touch, asking with his body for more.

Angelus brought his right hand to his mouth and wet the fingers. The saliva stayed warm for only a second as his hand returned to the silky skin below William's tailbone. As he slid his fingers into the cool crevice there, he felt the boy freeze. Angelus froze, as well. He waited for William to decide if he would allow any further intrusion.

After what seemed like ages of consideration, William looked up at his companion doubtfully. "You are NOT fucking me, mate," he said bluntly. "Your magical blood's not worth that."

Angelus grinned crookedly. "Are you sure? It might be the most fun you've ever had."

William lowered his chin and cocked an eyebrow. "The blood or the fuck?" he snarked. "Either way, it would have to be a fat LOT of fun."

Deciding it was better to bide his time, Angelus moved his stroking fingers up William's back, tracing teasing circles over and over the curve of his hip. They were still watching each other, but the young one seemed to finally be relaxing.

"You can take from me anywhere you'd like," Angelus whispered. "But it's nicest to be sucked at erogenous zones."

William thought about this. Thought about it intensely. Then he shifted again on the bed until he was straddling Angelus' hips, his thick cock dangling between his legs. It was filling with blood and lengthening beautifully. Angelus had to will himself not to reach for it. It wasn't time yet. He wanted to wait until William was actually tasting his blood before he initiated sexual contact. It
would be so much better that way.

With tentative fingers, William unhooked the buttons of Angelus' shirt, pushing the fabric away to expose his chest. Cautiously he touched the skin around Angelus' nipples, tickling in a way he'd seen Darla do many times. He smiled when the nipples drew into tight peaks.

"Shall I suck you there?" William asked, pinching the hardened kernels of flesh.

"If you like," Angelus said. He lifted his hand to his own belly and touched the flesh right below his navel. "Or here." Moving his hand to the inside of his right thigh, he said "or here. This is good, too," he said finally, drawing his hand up to point to his lips.

Grinning with impish pleasure, William watched as each location was suggested. "I've seen Darla take from your lips many times," he said. "Do you like that best?"

Angelus smiled seductively. "As I said, take from me anywhere you like. If you choose my lips, then we'll both be happy."

Still grinning, William leaned forward until his cool mouth covered Angelus' left nipple. That wet tongue came out again, circling the hard knot of flesh slowly. His fangs brushed the skin, teasing it
and making Angelus tremble with excitement. He let his fingers slide into William's hair at the back of his neck, where he took gentle but assertive hold of the curls.

"Careful, hungry boy . . . don't bite anything off," he said.

William chuckled, looking up with his blue eyes sparkling. "Don't worry," he said. "I'll save the biting for later." He drew the sensitive nipple into his mouth and sucked it roughly, sending chills
all through Angelus' body. His cock stirred in his trousers, reaching for friction against William's taut body.

"Mmm . . . excellent . . ." he breathed, smiling his approval.

William licked a slow path across his chest to the other nipple and gave it the same deep sucking treatment, taking his time and seeming to really enjoy the contact.

They had played with each other in this manner many times during their sexual parties, but they always stopped before anything too intimate occurred. It was as though they were using each other to build their arousal and then they would expend it on the girls. There was always a point at which they stopped enticing each other-there was always a line they did not cross. But tonight, Angelus had other plans. Tonight, they were alone-at least for the time being-and William was all his. It was time for a little game.

"Do you know what Drusilla told me?" he whispered, still stroking William's blond curls.

"What?" He was hardly listening. His blue eyes drifted closed as he suckled both hard nipples again. Angelus could feel the tension in the boy's body brimming.

"She told me what you did that night the two of you went hunting in White Chapel."

William's eyes opened and fixed him but he said nothing. Just waited.

"I know about the two boys," Angelus lowered his voice as though he might be overheard by the neighbors. "Against the wall in that alley. Dru told me you let them both fuck you. She said you paid them to do it . . . before you killed them for doing it." He grinned mockingly. "Poor boy. You just can't let yourself be free, can you?"

"I'm learning," William said and then pain sparked out in two direct points from the base of Angelus' left nipple.

He flinched in surprise, but he did not pull away. Looking down, he saw two trickles of his own blood seep away from William's plump lips and roll across his chest. He sucked in air through his teeth and tightened his grip on those blond curls.

"Behave," he growled. "Don't make me hurt you."

That cool tongue lapped up the drops of blood before they could slide over Angelus' side and onto the sheets. "You said I could take from you anywhere," William reminded him, smirking. He shifted on the bed, spreading his hands and knees out wider for balance, then he brought his lips back to the wounded nipple and began to suck at it fiercely.

The sudden pain was instantly replaced with tingling, rushing pleasure as William's cold tongue did its work. Angelus felt the blood being extracted, pulled up by that instinctive sucking motion
and followed by the velvety stroke of William's wet tongue. Over and over he drew, his throat clicking as he swallowed. Angelus' cock throbbed and stretched against his belly and he closed his eyes, riding the wave of pleasure all the way to the edge when it started to hurt a little. Then he used the fingers in William's curls and tugged his head back. The connection was broken with a wet smack.

William's full curvy lips dripped crimson blood too dark and thick to be human and his eyes sparkled with intoxication. His fangs glinted through the thick red film and he licked them clean while Angelus watched. In that moment he was so like a wild cat being restrained by the scruff of the neck-the muscles in his throat and shoulders tensed and writhed.

"Let go," he said, his voice strained by his bent neck.

"No more," Angelus instructed. "Not until you've fed properly."

William's tongue stroked over his fangs, cleaning them once again, gathering every drop of the delicious elixir clinging there. His cock was fully erect and twitching, hovering just above Angelus' exposed belly. The tip gleamed with shiny fluid.

They struggled for another few seconds and then William gave in, rolling over onto his side. He lay on the sheets and pressed his body against Angelus, his skin heating up slightly from the intake of warm blood. With his fingers, he reached over and smeared drops of the still-flowing blood around and around the wounded nipple, painting it dark red. After a moment he became still, but his hand remained resting on Angelus' chest.

Relatively sure the boy would behave, Angelus let himself relax. He turned to face his young companion on the bed, glancing down to make sure his wound was closing. "Watch," he said, drawing William's attention to the small punctures in his aureole.

The young one's eyes narrowed as they both watched the tiny holes simply vanish, leaving smooth pink skin in their place.

"It will be that fast for you soon," he said. "My blood will help."

William squinted. "I don't feel any different, by the way," he said. "I just feel like I've fed a little, but I'm not flyin' or anything. I think you might have overestimated your power, mate."

Knowing the boy would say just that, Angelus grinned. "You haven't had enough of it yet."

"Then why'd you bloody stop me? I was enjoying myself there!" William's hips raised unconsciously and he pressed his erection against Angelus' leg. Wiggling on the bed, he pulled himself up so they were facing each other, then brushed his nose across the older vampire's, tickling the sensitive skin on his lips in the process. In that close proximity, William whispered "can I have more now?" and he touched Angelus' bottom lip with his tongue.

"After you've eaten," he whispered, but he took the opportunity to steal a quick kiss. William's lips were so inviting then, slightly swollen from his recent sucking and simmering with just a bit of heat. "I don't want you trying to satisfy your hunger on my blood alone. You're far too greedy."

William smiled into the kiss, then opened his lips and pressed in close, his tongue reaching into Angelus' mouth confidently.

Of course they had kissed before, but it was always in the middle of group play, always mingled with kisses shared with the girls. The few times they had kissed without their respective female lovers, it had been in chaste moments-times when they were talking or early on when Angelus was consoling William's mourning of his former life. That mourning was inevitable in the first few weeks. They all went through it. But once it passed, it was gone forever. The kissing shared then was always for the purpose of comfort-not like this kiss. This kiss was loaded with intention. This kiss boiled from the inside.

Angelus let his hands stroke the boy's naked body, fingers teasing the places he knew were sensitive from watching William fuck Dru. His sides were very ticklish so Angelus was careful there, but he knew the young one liked to have his lower back scratched lightly. He'd watched Dru do it with her long nails while William was thrusting his erect cock into her. It always made him groan deliciously.

Pulling the boy to him on the bed, he slid his arm around that lean waist and splayed his hand over the small of William's back. Curling his fingers, he scraped his nails over the skin there very gently at first, then more roughly. Their tongues tangled and stroked each other and the soft sucking sounds the kiss enflamed Angelus' lust. He loved all the wet noises of sex.

The combination of the kissing and the scratching had a remarkable effect. William sighed and his arms slipped up around Angelus' neck. The gesture was unconscious and it made him vulnerable in every way-physically and emotionally. In that position, William surrendered his control and could be easily overpowered. But clearly he wanted to be held, squeezed even. Angelus had no trouble obliging.

William's body folded into him at every possible point, almost collapsing against him as their kiss deepened. Their eyes were closed and they inhaled repeatedly to smell each other, making it
sound as though they were panting. Angelus brought his other arm around William's back and reached up into his hair with that hand, once again tugging the thick curls that bunched at the back of his neck. He growled and sucked the young one's lips almost to the point of breaking the skin-but not quite. William moaned his appreciation of the forceful handling, rendering him even more vulnerable. His supplication was delicious.

******

Giles:

While Angel had been speaking, he had only allowed himself to breathe when absolutely necessary. At this point as the vampire took a break from his storytelling, Giles let out a deep sigh.

They were going through the scotch quickly and Giles suggested some ice would slow them down a bit. Truth was, intoxication was going a bit too far enhancing his imagination. Every detail Angel described, Giles was seeing in his mind with the utmost clarity.

Angel stretched his legs and went to the kitchen for the ice. He looked at Giles through the opening over the breakfast bar and he smiled sympathetically. "Are you still with me, Rupert?"

"Uh, yes," Giles stuttered. "It's just . . . well, it's . . . quite enlightening, all this. I suspect I had no idea you and Spike were quite so intimate. Even back then."

Angel returned to the living room with a small bowl of ice cubes which he offered to Giles. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I did warn you."

"Right. No need to apologize." Giles took three cubes from the bowl and plunked them into his glass, then he reached for the half empty bottle on the table.

Angel sat down on the couch again and added some ice to his own glass. Giles poured for them both, but they did not speak while they refreshed their drinks.

"I do have to say," the vampire began softly. "If you're already uncomfortable, I should probably stop where I am in the story."

Giles smiled apprehensively. "No, no. I anticipate the next bit is going to be quite, er-graphic. Spike has always enjoyed making a mess with his kills and I'm sure that penchant extends itself into every avenue of his life. And I'm also sure that goes way back with him."

Angel's handsome face smoothed in an easy grin and he sat back again, crossing his legs. "His table manners are pretty bad, huh?" Unexpectedly, Angel laughed then and the sound made Giles' blood turn cold. Something about it was so elated, so wicked. Clearly he was enjoying this little walk down Gruesome-Memory Lane. When he saw Giles' expression, Angel looked down self-consciously. "I'm sorry," he said. "The table manners thing made me think of something else . . . never mind. I got sidetracked."

After a moment, Giles couldn't help but ask. He cleared his throat again and said "you're enjoying talking about this, aren't you?"

Angel looked at him directly. "If you're suggesting that I'm enjoying shocking you-no. But . . ." He frowned slightly and swirled the ice cubes in his fresh drink. "I guess I'd lie if I said talking about it isn't a little . . . I don't know . . ."

"Fun?" Giles suggested.

Taking a sip if scotch, Angel looked up through his dark eyelashes. "If I could blush, I would."

A bit relieved by Angel's admission, Giles shook his head. "I don't require as much. But I do have a few questions, if you don't mind."

"Of course. Ask me anything."

Glancing at the clock, Giles was surprised to see the hour-it was nearly 4:00 a.m. Vaguely, he wondered where Spike was that night. Did he sense his old companion and current rival talking about him in such revealing detail? Were his ears ringing?

"In the diaries," Giles said. "There are several accounts of Drusilla's brutality toward anyone who vied for Spike's attention. That poor woman in Edinburgh, for example. Drusilla split her in two
and ate her still beating heart. And that shopkeeper in Manchester-the one she put through a sausage grinder." He shivered. "Horrible ways to die, both. To say Drusilla was extremely jealous is a gross understatement."

Angel smiled darkly and the expression almost looked like pride. Again, Giles thought it best to look away.

"I'm wondering why she simply LET you have him on this night," he continued. "And why is it that Darla wanted so badly to remain in the room with you two? What was so interesting to her about you sharing your blood with Spike when she herself had shared it many times before?"

Angel glanced out the livingroom window then, almost as though he were also wondering where Spike was that night. "At that time my relationship with Drusilla was . . . complex, at best."

"Well, yes," Giles concurred.

"The circumstances of her creation were always present in both our minds. She and I have always pulled back and forth between love and hate. But when Drusilla loved me, she loved me totally. And she would do anything for me. The problem was, she could flip to hating me in a split second, and often did just that. As this story continues, you'll see what I mean." Angel smiled
reassuringly. "That is, if you'd like me go on."

"Yes, I would," Giles said. "And Darla-why was she so interested in staying with you that night?"

Angel sipped his drink again, then rattled the ice cubes around for a moment while he gathered his thoughts. "Drinking from an old one is extremely pleasurable," he explained.

"Yes, but at the time, you weren't so terribly old."

His dark eyes glittered almost playfully. "Old enough for a rockin' good rush, trust me."

That time, Giles let himself experience that falling feeling in the pit of his stomach as Angel's gaze gripped him. At another point in his life, he would have been more than happy to sample a bit of Angel's intoxicating blood himself-just to see how it felt.

"It's irresistible," Angel said. "It tears through you like a storm in your veins. Rush after rush of pleasure that just radiates out to every inch of your body. Even your hair tingles."

"My goodness," Giles whispered. "It sounds . . . lovely."

Nodding, Angel turned his glass around in his hand pensively. "It's totally addictive. Darla used to do it everytime we had sex. She said she needed it to . . . you know. She wanted to stay that night because it was William's first time and she wanted to see him swoon from the pleasure. She wanted to be there to feel it along with him." He looked up at Giles openly. "I'm sure she thought I'd let her join if she was in the bed with us."

"But, you had no intention of doing that?" Giles asked.

Angel shook his head. "No. That night was all about him. Dru made me get mean about it later on, too. She was not happy being excluded."

"And . . . why was it so important to you to be alone with him his first time?"

"Just because of that," Angel said. "It was his first time." He looked away and his expression misted over again with dark nostalgia. "And I was his mentor."

"Of course," Giles said softly. "Well, then. Please, continue. I won't interrupt you again."

"You didn't interrupt me this time," Angel pointed out. "I want you to be prepared, though. I mean it. This next part is pretty . . .
intense."

"More intense than Drusilla putting a woman through a sausage grinder for flirting with Spike?"

Angel laughed shyly. "Intense in a different way."

Smiling bravely to show preparedness, Giles sipped his drink and once again asked Angel to continue his tale.

*********

Angelus:

Lost in the sensations of the kiss, he barely realized the girls had returned. Flashes of color caught his peripheral vision as he rolled on top of William on the bed and he looked up to the main room of the suite.

Darla held the door open as Drusilla led a young man into the rooms. He wasn't much of a man, really-barely eighteen by the look of him. His skin was plump and flushed from the cool night air and he wore the garb of a student. His pretty dark eyes regarded the suite with wonder and fear, but his attention went immediately back to Drusilla. She had him utterly in her thrall and he couldn't stop watching her, wanting her.

"Look what they've brought you," he whispered to William. "An educated entree."

William tilted his head back and peered into the other room, scrutinizing the student. "Where the `ell did they find him at this time of night?"

Angelus remained where he was, arms wrapped around William's naked body, covering him with his much larger frame. With his head tilted back in that manner, William's neck was exposed invitingly. Angelus lowered his head and sucked at the tender spot just below the young one's chin. He heard Darla come into the room. She stood in the doorway and tittered a mocking laugh.

"Oh, my," she said. "You lads wasted no time, did you? Such naughty boys." She walked over to the bed and sat down, leaning toward them on the mattress. Playfully she tugged William's velvety earlobe and he gave her an indulgent smile.

Angelus glared at her. "I told you I wanted to be alone with him."

"Do you?" she returned. "Well, you'll have to get that by his possessive mistress, won't you? She intends to be part of this little ritual, Angelus."

Looking up at the bedroom door, he saw Dru there with her elegant arms around the neck of the young student they'd brought back. She guarded the boy like a predator over a fresh kill that was still kicking on the ground. Holding Angelus' gaze, she spoke very softly.

"Why is my William naked and you're not?"

"Dru," William began but she flashed him a look that silenced him on the spot. His input was clearly unnecessary.

Angelus raised up so he was sitting on his knees, then he slipped his arms out of his open shirt, tossing it on the floor. Reaching down, he brought William's hands up to the waistband of his trousers and instructed him wordlessly to take them off. When this was done, Angelus straddled the blond one again, his cock straining up his belly and his full balls pressing against William's. He never took his eyes off Drusilla.

"Better?" he whispered.

She looked at his body covetously, taking it all in at her leisure. The captive boy in her arms whimpered slightly and she stroked his hair to calm him.

"Why don't you bring William that tasty morsel?" Angelus said, keeping his voice low and kind. "He's so hungry, Dru. We've been waiting for you to come back."

"But you won't let me play?" she said, putting her hand on the neck of her captive and pushing him into the room ahead of her.

"I want him to myself, sweet one. Just for tonight." Angelus watched as the student moved toward the bed. His large eyes looked at everything but saw little. Dru had hypnotized him so he wouldn't be terrified, but his terror was trying hard to break through the haze.

Angelus felt his fangs tingle and lengthen as the smell of the student's pumping blood filled the room. Then, suddenly he felt a soft stroking on his hard cock-cool fingers rubbing the skin very
slightly over the tense shaft, just enough to stimulate but not enough to bring on an orgasm. Looking down, he saw William grinning, his pale, long fingered hand the source of the new pleasure.

"Nice?" the young one said, blue eyes dancing.

"Mmm."

"You take him," William said, eyes darting to the captive student. "While I take from you."

Angelus chuckled and shook his head. "Oh, no, boy. That's not how it works." He waited until the student was within reach, then he lunged forward with amazing speed. With his hand around the front of the student's neck, he drew the young man down until he was lying on his back on the bed between Angelus and Darla. Another little whimper escaped his mouth and his dark eyes grew rounder and rounder as he stared at his naked captor imploringly.

Leaning over the trembling boy, Angelus asked "are you afraid?"

The young student opened his mouth but no words came out. He seemed unable to muster speech, but his eyes said everything for him. He was petrified and brutally exhilarated by it.

"Look at these lips, William," he said, turning the student's head so the prone vampire could see. "Don't you just want to taste them? So ripe and red . . . like raspberries in honey."

Sitting up and resting on his elbows, William regarded the student with ravenous attention.

Drusilla stood right in front of Darla, absently toying with one of her curls. Her almond shaped eyes followed William's every move as he sat slowly forward. The student was watching the younger vampire now, but occasionally his eyes would flash back to the one who held his throat. When William reached for the student's limp arm, Drusilla let out a sudden anguished moan.

They all looked at her, including the student.

"What is it, pet?" William said.

Her eyes had glazed over and she was rocking slightly. The hand she used to toy with Darla's curls began to work feverishly, faster and faster. Darla reached for her wrist and steadied it, but she dared not move too much. They all knew what was happening and they all stayed very still.

Drusilla moaned again and again and then the sound became one long unbroken wail. Her knees gave out and she collapsed, but Darla caught her and moved her thrumming body toward the bed. Dru slumped onto the mattress, her body partially covering the immobilized student.

"Dru?" William said, trying to calm her. "Luv, are you seeing something?"

Her eyes were open but she wasn't seeing them or the room they were in. Angelus and William both shifted on the bed so they were lying beside the student and Dru. Darla laid down with them. The mattress shook from Drusilla's mindless rocking and they all waited to see what she would say.

"Dru, darling . . ." William asked again. "Can you tell us what you see?"

She stared blankly at the ceiling and the student whined softly under her slight weight. Angelus still held his neck, pinning him so he could not move. The focus of the moment had changed, but the young human's warm pumping blood had certainly not been forgotten.

Drusilla suddenly stopped moving all together, then she sighed deeply and her eyes slid closed. The others waited.

After what seemed like ages, she finally came out of her trance. Turning to Angelus, she pierced him with a hard gaze and then her hand flew to his throat. Drusilla squeezed until he coughed from the pressure.

"Kitten," William said soothingly. "You need to stop that now." He crawled over the student's body and lifted Drusilla up by her waist until she was sitting in his lap. She managed to keep her hold on
Angelus' neck through all the shifting and he coughed again.

"Let go!" Angelus hissed. "Bitch, let go of me!"

"My love," William cooed, pulling her close to his body, trying to distract her. "Drusilla . . . why don't you kiss me, pet? Come on . . ."

Angelus watched him nuzzle her neck and nibble the skin there softly. They all knew she could not kill him in that manner, she could only cause him exquisite pain. But her desire to do so was
chilling.

"I need kissing, pet," William continued. " . . . come on now . . . only you can do it . . ."

She tightened her grip as William licked her long neck and her mad, beautiful eyes glowed with anger. "Leave him be," she said, staring hard at Angelus.

"I'll do as I please. . ." he growled. "Let go of me . . . I'm having him no matter what you do." He winced when her fingers tightened again but he held her gaze. He was NOT going to have his will thwarted by her jealous temper tantrum.

"You . . ." she said, her voice wavering like a high wind. "You will try to turn him away from me with all this . . . debauchery."

"I won't," he gasped and then finally got frustrated with her. His eyes flitted to Darla and then down at the captive student whose neck Angelus still held. "Take him," he demanded.

Darla reached for the student's arm and dragged him across the sheets to her side. She did not pin him, she just turned the scared boy's face to her and locked his gaze. "You stay put now," she told him, smiling sweetly. "Don't you move."

The student did not move. He stared at Darla with rapt attention and kept very, very still.

With his hands free, Angelus grabbed Drusilla's thin wrist and wrenched it away from his throat. Rearing back, he raised his hand intending to slap the teeth right out of her insane little head, but
William stopped him with a shrill shout.

"Oi! Is that necessary?!"

They glared at each other for a long moment, William's eyes blazing with anger and protectiveness.

"Just leave it," the young one insisted.

Gathering his wits, Angelus backed down. "I want her out of this room."

William nodded once, then turned to Dru and whispered in her ear. "Go on, pet. It's all right."

"He'll turn you," she groaned. "It's what he wants."

"No," William assured her. "He won't. I promise. This is just play time."

"Then, I want to play, too," Dru demanded.

"We'll play later," the young one said. "Just you and me. Now, come on . . . be a good little girl and leave us alone for a bit. Don't make him angry again."

Angelus stared at Dru hotly, daring her with his gaze to try to stop him again. He was ready for a fight then, she'd got him all stirred up. Licking his lips, he wished she would try again. He willed her to.

And then the sweet, keening scent of fresh blood filled the room.

They all turned to Darla who was bent over the captive student softly licking a single puncture wound she'd bit into his plumb bottom lip. The boy trembled but made no sound as she lapped the fat drops of blood before they ran down to his chin. When she realized they were all looking at her, she batted her big blue eyes.

"Sorry," she said. "You were boring me."

Angelus forced himself not to laugh, even though he thought her remark was extremely amusing. He wanted to maintain control of the situation. Fiercely, he yanked the student's other arm and hauled him back across the bed away from Darla.

"Go on, now," he said to her. "Take this little bitch with you before I tear off her head."

Darla sighed and got off the bed slowly, reaching for Drusilla's hand. "Angelus, you are being a very bad boy tonight," she told him.

"Am I?" He grabbed the terrified student by the throat and sat him up so he was facing William on the bed. "What will you do about that, I wonder?"

Her pretty lips spread in a wicked grin. "Oh, I think you need a good lashing," she said as she guided the reluctant Drusilla toward the door. "What do you think?" she asked him.

Angelus felt his cock surge to life again and he grinned back at her. "I think you might be right, my love. I am being a very, very bad boy, indeed."

Darla giggled girlishly and then she and Drusilla were at the door. The brunette turned around one last time and fixed Angelus with her fierce eyes.

"I saw you turn my William away from me," she said. "Saw you giving him pleasure I can't give. I'll hurt you if you do that."

Angelus returned her hard gaze for a moment and then his face melted in an acquiescing smile. "I'll look forward to that, sweet one," he said. "Now get out."

Again Darla giggled and then they were gone.

William leaned toward the student on the bed and pinned the young man's arms at his sides. The wound Darla had made continued to bleed, but William did not take from him there. Instead, he shoved the student's face to the side and pierced his fangs into that smooth young neck.

The sound of ripping flesh was deliciously jarring and Angelus smiled. He sat behind the student and drew his head back by the hair until he could get at that dripping bottom lip. He tasted Darla on the boy's mouth and he sucked the tiny wound hungrily, letting himself dream of the luscious punishments she would give him later. Such a talented mistress of pain, his Darla.

Lapping the small wound replenished his energy beautifully and he made certain not to take too much of the student's blood. This kill was for William's strength. He stroked William's back and thighs as he listened to the young one swallow repeatedly-taking in all that hot nourishment and growling softly from the tingling swoon of it. When the boy was nearly dead, William raised up, his elongated fangs oozing thick blood.

"Do you want to finish him?" he offered.

"I've had a taste," Angelus said. "Why not leave him alive just for a minute. We need him for something before his heart stops." He laid on his back and tickled William's thigh with his
fingertip. "Come here . . . now I need kissing." He grinned as his young companion climbed on top of him, warm drops of the student's blood plopping softly down his bare chest from his wet teeth.

William stroked Angelus' body with both hands, feeling all the muscles and caressing the tender spots. He was so warm now, full of borrowed living blood. That thick cock of his throbbed and shuddered with need. He pinched the nipple he'd fed from before and they both smiled.

"Open the boy's wrist," Angelus instructed. He watched while William lifted the student's lifeless arm and bit into the thin skin of the wrist. His blood spouted forth in a hot gush that splattered
Angelus' arm and wet the sheets. "Let it run on my belly," he said. William yanked the student a bit closer and held his spurting wrist over the older vampire's torso. They both watched as the slick red fluid squirted onto Angelus' pale skin, making a large pool in no time.

Holding out his hand, Angelus gathered a palmful of the hot liquid as it pumped out of the student's broken veins. Once his hand was full and spilling over, he said "that's enough. Finish him quickly and get him out of the way."

William brought the gushing wrist to his mouth and drew only a few more times until the young man finally expired. Unceremoniously, he hauled the student over the side of the bed where his body landed with a bloodless thud. Letting his head drop back, William took in a breath and let it out loudly.

"Aaaahhhhh! Much better," he said. "Now, you were saying something about kissing . . ." He leaned forward methodically, drawing out the tension of the moment. Then finally, finally . . . he captured Angelus' bottom lip in his blood-soaked fangs and punctured it with brutal slowness.

He heard his own flesh tearing and he groaned from the delicious pleasure of it. His eyes drifted closed and then he reached for William's burning erection with his blood-slicked hand.

As the young one started sucking at the new wound, Angelus captured that big cock in his hand and smeared the student's warm blood all over it. William moaned and spread his legs even more, giving the older vampire complete access to his vulnerable private parts.

Angelus kissed him as he suckled, loving the hard pressure and the rush of his own blood being pulled out again and again. The wounds were intentionally small and precise and William lapped as much as he sucked, increasing the tingling pleasure. When Angelus' hand circled his hot cock, the young vampire growled and pressed his hips forward, begging for more friction.

Slick fingers spread the blood all over William's cock and his tight balls, making the skin slippery. Once his cock was fully coated, Angelus moved William's body slightly, holding him by the hips until their straining erections touched each other. The blood pooled on Angelus' belly dripped and slipped as they moved, distributing over the soft flesh below his navel. This was to be the stroking point-the place where all the fluids would culminate.

"Rub on me," Angelus said in a ragged whisper, holding William's hips firmly. "Make us both come."

Spreading his legs even more, William worked his hips up and down, rolled them around in a tight circle, then up and down again. Their cocks reached for each other, stroked each other and stretched to their full erection as they slid together. They both moaned with pleasure and Angelus ground against William faster and faster.

The rush was so acute, so blinding as his own blood was taken from him. The heat was transferred from William to him and then back again and the friction increased with every second. The tingling was paralyzing and they gasped from the intensity.

William growled and purred against him, sucking his lip like an infant at the breast. His lithe body trembled and vibrated and his hips worked frantically. Angelus knew what he was feeling, knew the bliss that was swelling in every nerve. He felt William's fingers dig hard into his shoulders, and then his pumping hips froze.

With one last hard pull on Angelus' lip, the young one lifted his head and squeezed his eyes closed. His body throbbed as the orgasm tore through him and his hips snapped with each deep contraction. Angelus reacted to each of the spasms, matching it with his own and they shouted against each other. William made sounds like he never had before, pleading sounds, raw with surrender. He whimpered like a puppy and nearly cried from the pleasure.

Angelus could only smile as his own orgasm began to wane.

Looking down, he saw the last blast of thick blood-creamy fluid eject itself from William's cock. His belly was slick with it-William's semen and his own. He felt it running down his sides along with the remains of the student's blood. Such wonderful lubricant, blood. It holds up beautifully to friction.

William collapse on top of him, murmuring and mumbling unintelligibly, chanting his name and other words Angelus could not make out. Maybe he was having visions, it was hard to tell. His
eyes were closed and his thick lashes rested on his smooth pale cheeks. Tiny splats of blood decorated the bridge of his nose and forehead like freckles. Angelus licked at them while he pet
William's curls, soothing him through the spinning afterglow.

After a long time, William looked at him and his irises were like blue crystals. Something had changed in him, even if only temporarily. He had been enriched and elevated.

"Unbelievable," he breathed.

Angelus grinned down at him. "I thought you'd like that."

William stretched his arms over his head and seemed to smile with his whole body. Angelus kissed the young one's chest just above his diaphragm-where he would have felt a pulse, had there been one to feel.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Drusilla sitting just inside the doorway, her arms wrapped around her bent knees, her huge eyes staring right into him.

Angelus turned away.

***********

Giles:

The room was so quiet then, he felt certain he could hear the ice melting in his glass. "But, you didn't . . ."

"Fuck him?" Angel said. "Not that night. I had to wait until Dru wasn't around for that." He leaned forward and set his empty glass on the coffee table. "As I'm sure you gathered, she was a little
upset with me that night."

Giles set his own glass down and raked his fingers through his hair. His body was heavy with fatigue but his mind was racing. "So, this was just an elaborate sexual game?" he asked.

"In a way," the vampire said. "I suppose everything we did was somehow connected to the sex we had together. That's true for humans, too-they're just a lot less honest about it."

Nodding, Giles breathed a laugh. "Yes. I reckon that is true." He glanced at the clock again and then looked out the livingroom window. "It'll be light soon."

"I know." Angel stood and picked up his coat, slipping into it gracefully. "I kept you up all night. Sorry about that."

"Not at all," Giles said, also standing. "Your story was fascinating. But, I'm afraid I don't see why you feel guilty. Did I . . . miss something?"

Smiling secretively, Angel started for the door. "No," he said. "I just didn't get to that part yet." He opened the door and the cool air flooded into the livingroom. Angel sniffed the slight breeze. "Maybe we can continue tomorrow? If you're up for it."

Taking a deep breath, Giles tucked his hands into the pockets of his sleeping pants. "Yes," he said. "If you like. I don't feel I've been of any help as yet."

Angel stepped out into the last of the inky night. "You have been, Rupert. Really. Now get some sleep."

The door closed softly and then Giles was alone. He looked back at his friend's letter that was still sitting on the coffee table between the two empty scotch glasses. He thought again about the strange coincidental mention of Fountains Abbey.

Glancing around his eerily silent living room, he knew deep in his bones that where Sunnydale and its inhabitants were concerned-there was no such thing as coincidence.


(finis-for now)
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