The Adventures of Captain Peroxide and Deadboy
The Angel/Spike Zone of the BtVS Writer's Guild
TITLE: Reminder
AUTHOR: Bridie
WEBSITE: http://www.bound-by-blood.com/
FEEDBACK: [email protected]
ARCHIVE: Sure...just let me know where
PAIRING: Angelus/William
RATING: NC-17
SPOILERS: None
DISCLAIMER: Other people own them...I'm not making any money...just having a little fun.
SUMMARY: Fool For Love flashback, what happened after the incident in the mining shaft, 1888 Yorkshire. PWP
DEDICATION: For Rune, because she asked for Angelus and William for Christmas
THANKS: To Ruby, for being a kick-ass beta. To Mouse for requesting a specific sex act.
"Take care of it, Angelus."
Her tone is calm, like her face, the face of a Madonna
and the body of a whore. Such a tiny waist, just made
for my hands to wrap ‘round and pull her in. I bend
my mouth to hers, intending to kiss away her argument.
"You'll not sway me with kisses...but you're free to
try." Sweet lips hiding that venom-sharp tongue I
love to be cut to ribbons by. With a groan I release
her and stalk toward the window, staring angrily at
the street beyond.
"Take care of it, woman? What would ya have me do
then? Reason with
him? Beat it into him?"
I can hear the smile in her voice, and wait for the
first lash. "Well, neither worked particularly well
in *your* upbringing." There's the gentle slide of
kid gloves over her fingers. "I suggest you find
another tack." I hear the almost-silent whisper of
her gown across the carpet towards me, then a small
hand turning me toward her.
"That little scene back in Yorkshire?" A man my size
shouldn't cringe at the grip of her delicate fingers
on my arm. But a demon my size should tremble before
her flashing eyes. "I'll never see you raise a stake
toward one of our own family again, shall I beloved?"
Reaching up, one gloved hand finds my neck and pulls
me down to her mouth. Heaven and hell are this
woman's lips, and she is well aware of it. With a
sigh she pulls back from me, glancing to the window at
my back. "Drusilla is singing to the driver, I'd best
be off."
Fastening her cloak about her she gives me one last
look. "Promise me, Angelus, when I return, you'll have
the situation well in hand."
With all courtly grace possible I lift her hand,
kissing the pale wrist and winking up at her, "To be
sure, my love."
"To be sure." she echoes. "Because the next time we
are chased by a mob, I will feed you both to them."
I smile grimly at her threat, knowing how truly she
means it.
With a last glance around the room, she turns and
leaves me with her scent and the maddening promise
I've made her.
I frown for a moment at the closed door. It won't do
to disobey the lady of the house, but beating some
sense in to him, although a tempting thought, hasn't
worked thus far. Surely there another way...
It's clear I need to find him and take of this
problem.
I discover him in my room, slumped in an old chair
near the hearth, looking for all the world like a
young boy who's had his toys taken from him. I know
how he feels.
"They'll return in a fortnight. Only left for
shopping, lad."
His body stiffens at the sound of my voice and he
rouses himself from his cozy spot by the fire. The
only warm room in the house right now, I can see why
he chose it.
"I'll leave you to it then." The boy's voice is
brittle and the words clipped with tension.
"No." I say it softly and ease myself into the chair
he's vacated.
Mary, mother of God, I could almost laugh at the way
his body freezes at the doorway. What the hell... I
let out a chuckle.
"Come back here, William."
He whirls on me, his hair flying a bit wild, his body
primed for a fight. "Spike! The. Name. Is.
*Spike*!"
This is where I am supposed to react as he expects. I
should leap out of my chair, grab him by the scruff of
his collar and slam him into the nearest hard object.
My fist, the wall, whichever is handiest.
Instead I smile at him slowly and indicate the rug in
front of me. "Here, by the fire where it's warm."
"M'not your dog!" He's a little put off by my
calmness, and sounding quite sullen.
My voice is calm; my tone is low. "Of course not,
lad. I'd put a dog down for putting my women in
danger."
There's real fear in him now, rolling off him like
bitter incense. That's not what I really want from
him at this moment, but I can't let him forget what
he's done.
I soften my words a little. "You're not a dog,
William. Not a pet. I don't allow my dogs in my
bed." His eyes flicker hotly to my own. "But don't
be mistaking me, lad. You *are* mine."
He's silent, simply staring at me, no doubt wondering
what in hell I'll say next.
"Leave it out, William. I want you here. Come."
He actually stumbles when his body jerks forward.
Nothing like a Sire's whims to keep you off balance -
something I know quite intimately, and a fact I plan
to use to my advantage.
I see the moment when he catches on to his body's
betrayal and moves to turn and walk out. One hand
out, and I have his wrist in a bone-crunching grip.
"A dog'd be better behaved than you; need I put a
collar on you?" His breath catches sweetly, and I do
so love to make him breathe.
I'm pulling him to me, and he has no choice but to
come where my hold leads him. Standing in front of me
now, and I move him roughly into my lap. He tries to
pull away, and I let him so his body tilts back and he
must either fall...or hold on. Good choice. His hands
are on my shoulders and he's looking down on me with
shock and more than a little anger.
"Ya want to bugger me, Angelus? Why not bend me over
and do it on the bed, proper-like?" Oh ho - bravado
in my young cock. This will be like breaking him all
over again, and isn't that a thought to keep me warm
on this cold night?
I run my hands down his sides, feeling his body
thrumming with the need to fuck or fight, not entirely
certain I will give him either. Well...not yet.
He expects this to be rough and fast, like so many of
our couplings have been of late, and perhaps that's
where I've erred. There's still that bit of the poet
in him, the artist who needs to ache and agonize.
Surely I can offer him a bit of suffering.
My hands are still roaming over him slowly, and I can
feel his body gentling reluctantly, like a wild thing,
his eyes going a bit glassy as my thumbs press
steadily up his thighs. Ah, it's a terrible thing to
be a slave to your body, isn't it boy? So easy now
for him to bend to my waiting lips, where I lick
softly - because you should always set the trap with
something sweet. Simple to open that waiting mouth
with my tongue, feel his body sink onto mine - for the
trap should not be recognized by your prey. Lovely,
really, the way this boy turns from fighter to lover
in a moment...let's see if I can turn him back again.
"Will, lad...I'm after seeing more of your skin. Pull
that shirt up for me. Ah, that's it..."
And as the shirt comes over his head, baring those
strong young shoulders I pause to marvel at the
simplicity of my plan, and then I surge forward,
pulling his arms back, twisting the fabric to imprison
his arms behind him. Sudden thrust of my thighs and
his legs are pinned to the sides of the chair.
Anger is emblazoned across those sharp features as he
struggles in my grip, but it's worth the uncomfortable
position to enjoy the futility of his lithe body
thrashing atop my own.
"Angelus! What the devil are you – !" His invective
is lost in a groan as my mouth covers one nipple in a
soft suck, veering into a choked-off scream as I bite
down – hard. I pull back just enough to admire the
irregular line of teeth marks around that hardened nub
before I go back to flicking the tightened flesh with
my tongue, reveling in the feel of his body jerking to
each brush.
I relax my grip a little, letting him rest a moment
before I respond.
"I'm after giving you what you wanted." Most obvious
thing in the world, I can't imagine why the lad
doesn't see it himself.
He's staring at me dumbly. "What I wanted?"
"Back at that mine...you said you preferred being caught
to being hunted. And I caught you, William. Eight
years ago, under a yellow streetlamp." My fingers
moving up to graze against that mark - *my* mark – on
his neck. "Tell me now, you remember?"
"Yeah." Breathy little word as his hips buck up in
reaction to my touch. As it should be.
"Really? It would seem you'd forgotten. Seems to me
my William could do with a reminder."
I've let go of his arms with my other hand, but he
keeps them behind him.
Prefers to be caught? The boy loves it.
I have to stare at him, really see this beautiful boy
that I own, arched and bound over my lap like some
sort of sacrifice. Eyes closed as he trembles, his
cock straining against his trousers, the wetness
beginning to seep through. As his body waits. For
me.
And I do nothing.
Blue eyes shocked open now and staring at me
with...desperation, dangerous like a cornered animal.
As if he has no idea how he came to be half-naked and
imprisoned by my thighs. And like a creature
surrounded, he attacks wildly, hands freed and
grabbing at me, straining to pull my arms around him,
his mouth seeking mine.
I'll have none of that, and instead reach up and grab
a handful of his hair, stilling him, forcing him to
look at me.
"Undressed. On the bed. Now, William." Emphasis on
the name, because this *is* a battle I'll win.
Foregone conclusion.
With a shove he is off me and scrabbling at his
clothes with earnest hands. Gone is the challenging
youth, replaced by this creature trapped by his own
need. Spread out for me on my bed like a feast, and
oh, it's good to call this mine.
I'm not rushed to remove my own clothing, indeed, I
feel the urge to do so slowly and watch the heat build
in his gaze. I wrap lazy fingers around my own
hardness as I move over him, lowering myself until my
knuckles brush his length as I caress myself. Too
easy to swallow the groan he lets loose at this
lightest of touches. A gentle kiss, but he wants no
softness and eager hands are pulling me down, a greedy
mouth suckling my tongue.
"Easy lad, we've all night to play," I whisper softly
into his open mouth and am rewarded with a low growl.
Fastening my teeth lightly to the delicate skin of his
neck, his body freezes for a moment before he goes
still beneath me, surrendering completely. Perhaps
the boy knows his place after all.
I move up and press my lips against his ear. "What is
it you'd want of me, Will? What is it you need at
this moment?" My teeth grazing against the soft
whorl, oh this lad is my temptation, "Tell me."
His breath catches at that. It's rare enough that I
take this kind of time with him, much less offer him a
choice. But this isn't the shy virgin of eight years
past, and I can hear the smile in his voice.
"Your mouth."
Does he think to have me so simply? He does. Well,
never let it be said I go back on my word to my
family. With a smile of my own I move down his body.
My boy. My time. I'll take both as it pleases me,
and right now it pleases me to map his flesh with my
mouth. Delights me to lick patterns over quivering
flesh and kiss-suck bruises laid like flowers across
his torso. Mark him and make him beg for less, for
more, as my path leads down.
Down and I'm at his hips. Entranced by that jut of a
curve that begs for my tongue, where the skin is
perfect and smooth and taut. Translucent and it holds
the tattoo of my teeth like the perfect canvas.
I can just make out the chant he's breathing past
bitten lips, "Your mouth. Your mouth."
"Aye lad, I promised, didn't I?"
Grasping those thighs and pressing back, making him
fold and catching his confused look as I bend my head
lower, swipe my tongue across his sac then flick once
against that puckered access and grin...as he howls.
I have to grab the backs of his thighs to hold his
bucking body down as I lick again, this time pressing
into that ring of flesh. Shaking hands brush against
my mine as he reaches down to pull his legs back for
me. Such a good pet, to come willingly into my trap.
Spread wide, and I can feel the bed shake with his
desire as his body opens to me. That hungry muscle
welcoming my tongue, giving way to my wet
ministrations.
I think he's forgotten his native tongue, for all I
can make out now are throaty moans and whimpers as I
move my mouth over his hole. But I understand this
language of hunger, speak it fluently, and I know he
hears me with each stab of my tongue and suck of my
lips over that reddened ring of flesh.
One hand cupping his backside, I feast on the feel of
his muscles trying to clamp on me, pull me in. I
would smile if I could at the way his body leaps as I
close my fist around his wet length. He's wild with
it, not knowing whether to push into my grip or bear
down on my tongue. So I give him both, pushing in and
seizing him fiercely as he spasms out of his control,
and into mine.
Mine, and I rear up to watch as he spills over my
fingers. Grinning like the demon I am while his head
thrashes on the pillow and he loses himself in the
moment. Gathering up the wetness he's sacrificed for
me, I take two fingers and slick them quickly into
him, no teasing in this touch. His eyes snap open at
the intrusion, and I think he was so far gone in his
pleasure he'd forgotten where he was. I'm here to
remind you, boy.
Curl my fingers into him cruelly and drink up his
gasps of almost-pain as that pressure has him
hardening again. Too soon, Will? Not for me, for
I've made this moment exactly as I would have it.
There. On his hip, my blood-tinged point of reference
ready for my thumbs to grasp him there, his fulcrum,
to bend him to my will. My desire, which is to bury
myself in his body, go deep and brand him from the
inside as my own.
I'm aching with the need for him; my hardness,
long-tortured with his ecstasy, is pressing at his
entrance, and I have to pause. Have to wait for him
to catch up with the game. Just a nudge and he's so
loose and open, ready for me.
"Do it!" His gaze burning into me. Arms trembling as
he holds his legs open for me. Almost...
Just a taste for him as I lean forward, the tip of me
gripped in that vice slicked with our wetness, and
he's...breathing. Breathing for me. I've done this to
him, I'll do so much more, I just need him to...
"Please." Broken whimper mismatched with the lust
blazing in his eyes. All for me, and I take it in as
his body accepts my first thrust. God, finally
entering the wet haven I've made for myself - pressing
in deeper and he's grunting with the force and size of
me.
Slow pull back and I feel his renewed hardness
dragging along my belly, calling me to slam forward
with a brutal thrust. Wild animal-like keening from
that red mouth, and I have to give him more. Give
everything to him, because every twitch of his
muscles, every hard grasp of his fingers is begging
for it. For me. And I won't deny either of us this.
No longer drawing the moments out, I'm moving in and
out of him at a furious pace. This is mine, this
body, this pleasure, fine as gold and twice as
precious. The body beneath me, twisting into my
strokes, writhing on the bedclothes like a thing
possessed, delivering his flesh up to me. So I take
and take, pounding in until I feel his body shudder
around me. Smell his wetness on the air before I feel
it sealed and pulsing between our bodies. And it's
enough, it's more than enough, it's all I wanted from
him. Surrender. Acceptance.
Throbbing and releasing deep inside him, I sense his
languor at our shared completion. Sated, like a cat
he licks his tortured lips and looks up at me, smiling
and absolutely...captured.
I cannot help but lower my head to suckle at those
bruised lips, and accept the welcome of his pliant
mouth. Sweet boy with a devil inside him, but have I
managed to fix him as Darla demanded?
He's silent as he struggles to regain a sense of his
body as his own, moves to wipe the fluids from our
bodies. Too quiet, as he turns down the bed and
watches me shift to my side, settling myself to my
comfort. Positioning himself in front of me, he turns
back toward the dying fire and sighs as I place an arm
around him, pulling him to my chest.
My fighter, that I worked to capture, is tame in my
arms for the moment – for I'm no fool, I realize it's
just this moment. But it is victory, however brief,
and I allow myself a smile when he speaks, voice
hoarse, his throat raw from crying out in pleasure.
"Angelus, if I forget again..."
"I'll remind you, lad."
"That's good."
Yes. It is.