Communion

Of all the things I expected to see when I finally opened my eyes, that bloody smile wasn't one of them. I could tell by the look on his face that he was doing it on purpose, knowing how it would affect me. A faint glint of amusement sparkled in his eyes. Everyone seems to be under the misconception that my sire is emotionless.

Fat lot they know.

He wouldn't be here if he didn't care. Hell, I wouldn't be here either. Sometimes I think that's our problem; we care too much. We're both looking for something, something I'm not sure we'll ever find. We want to stumble on the thing that will fill the yawning chasm that exists where our hearts should be. I doubt there is enough love on the whole bloody planet to fill that place. I know I've tried. Angelus. Dru. Even Harmony.

Nothing works.

I think it's probably the same for him. Behind that smile, I can see it. Deep in his eyes, there is a vast emptiness. He'd thought the Slayer was his salvation and he was wrong. She couldn't understand him, not the real man lurking in that body. How could an eighteen year old chit like that possibly conceive of what he is? How could she understand those feelings? Feelings that build to an overpowering crescendo until they erupt and take you with them. His precious control erodes in those moments and he hates himself for that

That's why he'll never belong with the Slayer. Being with her takes too much and offers too little in return. He blames himself; the knowledge that it is he who is responsible for their separation gnaws at him and he hides. He hides in the darkness because it is easier than dreaming of the light.

When Dru left me the last time, I also ran. I ran back to Sunnydale. I wasn't terribly surprised to find that he had left by the time I returned. It was only a matter of time until he realized the inevitable. Even through my grief over Drusilla, I could see it coming the last time I saw him. He was realizing, as I too had been coming to understand, that the women in our lives couldn't fill the void. That wasn't their job; that wasn't what they were there for.

It's hard to reconcile yourself to the fact that everything you've been holding onto is a farce. I held on to Dru to stay connected to Angelus, to hold on to the one brief time when I felt full. Why was he with the Slayer? She isn't exactly an eyesore, but there was something else. Maybe it was because she brought humanity with all its faults and foibles back to him. I don't know. I don't think I ever will. I don't think I want to. The old saw goes that knowledge is power. In this case, they'd be wrong. Knowing too much is a curse. Just ask my sire.

You never knew I thought this much? Well, sometimes there's nothing else to do except sit around and think, especially if you're trapped in your fucking car, at the side of the road, in the middle of a desert, on the way back to the Hellmouth, after your fucking girlfriend has dumped you for a guy with eight red little beady eyes! Loony bitch. Losing Angelus that last time took her right 'round the bend.

I guess I can't fault her for that though. I know what losing him meant to me.

The last time I saw him, the time before Sunnydale, will always be burned into my mind. Angelus, Dru and I were finally coming to some sort of level playing field. He was tiring of her, I think. He was tiring of her and so he came back to me. I was angry with him, annoyed. He'd finished playing with his toys and thought I'd just be sitting around panting for him. Of course the bastard was right but I, being the sort of man I am, didn't want to admit that.

We fought.

I haven't been in a fight like that since. My bones still ache. We ranged all over the house. Fighting with the Slayer was child's play compared to this. It wasn't about killing or maiming. It was about possession. Angelus wanted me and in my pigheaded way, I fought him for awhile. I wasn't going to give in that easily. I wasn't some foppish nancy boy. I was a man and demanded to be treated like one.

Never let it be said that Angelus doesn't know how to treat a man.

When he finally realized that the domination tactic wasn't going to work, the bastard seduced me. Believe me when I say the man was built for seduction. It isn't just how he looks; it's how his mind works. He gets inside and looks into your heart. He knows more about you than you even know about yourself. Insidious? I suppose you could say that. It all depends on why he does it. With Dru, he wanted to punish her. With me, it was something else. I'd like to say that it was love, but who knows with him. It could have been love, lust, or just plain need.

It was that last time we were together before the fucking gypsies took him away that makes me hope. Hope. Isn't that funny? Me, a vampire, hoping for anything. Angelus always said I was different. In touch with my feminine side, or so Harmony told me the other night. Feminine side, my foot. I am nothing of the sort. I'm just smart enough to see what's in front of me.

Unlike some other people I could mention, I'm not afraid of my emotions. Sadness. Anger. Love. None of these things frighten me. They're all a part of life. It's the absence of these things, the ugly vacuum of nothingness, that scares me. It's the thought of being alone that shakes me to my core.

It's having my world snatched out from underneath me.

That last night I was sulking in my room when he found me. Yes, I'll admit it; I was sulking. We'd been fighting all morning, then suddenly Dru had had a vision, and it was over. He went to take care of her and I crept back to my room to lick my wounds. I remember wondering if she would always be there between us. I figured she would, but I was wrong.

He came into the room silently. That one time he didn't even flap his jaw. I looked up at him from my position on the floor beside the bed and said nothing. If he was there to take something, I wasn't going to help him out. If he wanted to feel like the big, strong vampire then he could do it himself.

He sat on the bed behind me. I could feel his stare but refused to turn around. Obstinate 'til the end, that's me. After a few minutes he realized that I wasn't going to make a move, so he did instead. The mattress groaned under his weight and I could almost hear him cursing me for purchasing something so shoddy.

He moved behind me, framing my body with his legs. The leather of his pants rubbed against my linen shirt as he lowered his feet to the floor. Yes, even back then he wore those damn pants. Vanity is a sin that he has a particular affinity for. As I sat there, all I could smell was the scent of that leather and him.

What's he smell like?

That's hard to explain. His scent is elusive, the sort of thing you know when you smell but can never really describe accurately. It's the musky scent of skin on leather, but underneath there's something else. It's the smell of tobacco and that damn sandalwood soap he's so fond of. It's Angelus, that's the only way to describe it.

I refused to acknowledge his presence and instead concentrated on the floor. His feet were bare. I watched as his long toes flexed against the golden oak. As usual, the nails were neatly pared down. He shifted his left foot and I looked at the long scar that ran from the base of his big toe to the gentle curve of his heel. I couldn't resist running my finger along its length. He shuddered at my touch. No, he wasn't ticklish; he shuddered because I knew it was there. I know every inch of his body, every scar.

I know him.

As I sat there tracing that scar, he pulled the cord from my hair and it fell in waves around my face. He ran his fingers through it, gently pulling free the tangles he found there. He loved that hair. The man could spend hours fussing over it. That's why I got rid of it after he disappeared.

He rubbed the pads of his thumbs firmly against the soft indentation at the base of my skull. I barely contained a groan of contentment as he stroked his thumbs from that indentation and across the length of my neck to my shoulders. I could tell he'd been standing in front of the fire because I could feel the faint traces of its warmth clinging to his fingertips. The warmth was fleeting, like a whisper. Usually I don't even think about it, but in those few moments, I missed being warm. Even that brief instant made me feel alive, which is why he brought it to me.

He placed a palm on the back of my scalp and gently forced my head to rest on his thigh. I closed my eyes and gave myself up to him. I silently prayed to whomever was listening that for once Drusilla would stay quiet. As his fingers kneaded small circles into my scalp, I nuzzled my face against the heavy fabric that covered his thigh. A tear rolled down my cheek and I remember feeling happy that my hair had fallen over my face so he could not see. I didn't want him to know how much those few stolen moments meant to me. If he knew, I was sure he would leave me again and turn back to Drusilla. I didn't want that. I wanted him to belong to me.

Angelus leaned over and ran his tongue down the length of my neck and I realized that he wasn't going anywhere. He was exactly where he wanted to be. It may sound silly, but in all of our time together, my neck has always been sacred. He knows that caressing my neck is perhaps the most intimate thing he can do to me. In all of our fights, he has done a lot of things to me, but he has never violated that intimacy. I don't think he ever will.

As he blew gently across the wet expanse of my neck, I sunk my teeth into the fabric of his pants and latched onto the firm muscle of his thigh. A low growl rumbled in his chest and I couldn't help but chuckle. I had his attention.

He grabbed my shoulder and spun me around to face him. I think he'd been about to chastise me when he noticed the tracks of my tears. I'll never forget the expression on his face; for one brief instant, he looked shattered. I'd like to think that in that moment he'd forgotten about his obsession with Drusilla and remembered what life used to be like, but I'll never know.

He lifted his hand to my face and repetitively traced a path across my cheekbone and over the edge of my jaw with his right thumb. I couldn't prevent the purring sound that reverberated at the back of my throat and he smiled. He lowered his head and I thought he was going to kiss me. Instead, he rested his forehead against mine and stared into my eyes.

As I sat there looking into the eyes that had been tormenting me for so long, I felt something break inside of me. Tears washed over my cheeks. Thinking back on it now, I feel sort of surprised by my response. I also see that the last hundred years have changed me. In that moment, I didn't feel anger or hatred or even jealousy. I felt the profound relief of acknowledgment.

Angelus grabbed my shoulders and hauled me up beside him on the bed. He was rough and I remember bracing myself for the back of his hand. It didn't come. That really wasn't his style. He may be a selfish bastard, but he's never been one to physically lash out at his loved ones. His experience with his family erased that need in him. He discovered that the real pain existed in emotional wounds. They took much longer to heal, if they ever did.

I remember sitting on the bed, confused. I was confused by the emotions that were rushing through my body and confused by the actions of the man who was sitting beside me. He seemed to sense my confusion and smiled. I think in his own clumsy way, he was trying to reassure me. He pushed me back against the pillows and still he said nothing.

He got up from the bed and walked toward the door. My heart sank in my chest as I realized that he was leaving me. It was over. My stupid tears had ruined the moment. He stood beside the door and smiled again. I knew that smile. It was that ‘I know something you don't know' look that he still gets on his face sometimes; the look that makes me want to pound his face into the bloody ground.

Bastard.

I heard the grating sound of the key turning in the keyhole and I felt my heart stop. I know, I know, I'm a vampire; technically my heart doesn't beat. Would you like to tell this story? No? Good, then shut the hell up.

Where was I? Oh yes, getting to the sex that you children seem to crave.

He looked at me under heavy lids, the smile falling from his lips. My cock twitched beneath the fabric of my trousers. I hadn't been with anyone in months, unless you counted the idiotic minions I used to relieve my sexual tension. They were hardly worth counting, not after I'd been with Angelus.

He walked over to the bed, silently shedding his shirt along the way. The heavy muscles in his chest rippled as he tossed the garment to the floor. I love his muscles and the carefully leashed strength that comes with them. He's like a giant cat. Dark. Hypnotic. Dangerous. I couldn't help the slight smirk that came to my face as he slunk across the room. His eyes twinkled in response. His quick glance towards my belt line proved that he knew how much I was enjoying his performance.

He stood at the foot of the bed for a moment before I realized that he was waiting for me. He was waiting for me to make a move, waiting for me to take what I wanted. He was going to allow me to be the aggressor.

"You're sure," I asked. My voice trembled with uncertainty. I think a part of me didn't really believe he was willing to offer himself to me. There had to be a catch.

He nodded, still saying nothing.

My mouth felt dry, from what I can only guess was nervousness, as I pulled at the ties of my shirt and tossed it to the floor as well. I inched down the bed, still somewhat uncertain that he really wanted me to assume control over our coupling. I knelt in front of him, my face inches from his. I licked my lips nervously.

He read my mind and then did something he hadn't done in years.

"It's alright, Will."

Will. He said my name. It was the last fucking time he ever did.

I wish I could say that I played hard to get, but that really isn't my style. When there's something I want, I take it. I'm an immediate gratification sort of fellow. I lunged at Angelus, my mouth clashing against his. I wanted to consume him. My fingers tangled in his hair and I yanked at the leather cord that bound it until it came free.

His hands wrapped around the sides of my waist and he squeezed gently, bringing me back to earth. I pulled away from his mouth and smiled at him sheepishly. I was behaving like a schoolboy.

"Sorry," I said, feeling like a damned fool.

He pulled me tightly against him and I felt his erection brush against mine. I guess in his subtle way, he was telling me that he wasn't sorry. Somehow, I found the strength within myself to take my time. I don't know it if was because I wasn't sure that it was ever going to happen again or if I was simply planning to punish him. For whatever reason, I decided to take it slow, to draw out our time together.

I nibbled at his lower lip before stroking at its bruised surface with my tongue. I may be a neck man, but Angelus is all about his mouth. He likes to kiss, to be kissed. He likes to watch people talk, to stare at women as they put on their lipstick. Hell, why do you think I smoke? The man has an oral fixation, one that I'm pleased to say I've been on the receiving end of on more than one occasion.

He moaned as I drew his lower lip into my mouth and suckled on it like it was my mother's tit. He gripped my hips and attempted to grind his sheathed arousal against mine. I reluctantly pulled my fingers from his hair and dropped my hands to his wrists. My fingernails dug into his flesh as I pulled his hands free from my body. It felt odd taking control like that, but I relished it. For once, he was at my mercy.

I pulled away from his embrace and slowly ran my eyes over the planes of his body. His abdominal muscles flexed as he gulped several breaths of air. I stood there for a moment considering my options. I wanted to take it slowly; I wanted to rock his world from its very foundations. I wanted him to feel as confused and off center as I did, but I knew myself well enough to know that I wasn't going to be able to hold back. My body was crying out for release and I didn't exactly relish the thought of cumming in my pants.

I made my decision quickly.

"What do you want?"

I remember that he seemed uncertain. He hadn't been expecting that question. This wasn't supposed to be about him, it was supposed to be about me. In a round about way, I guess it still was. I needed to make our time together so unique that he could never forget it. I didn't want another display dominance and control. No, that's what every other relationship he'd ever been involved with had been about.

"What do you mean," he said, his brow furrowing in confusion, "this isn't abo-"

Stupid bastard. He always has to play his role. Either you're in control or you aren't. I don't think, especially back in those days, that he understood that a relationship could be about both giving and taking. You don't have to destroy something to love it. I know it was a lesson that he had learned well, but I was sick of it. It was a cycle that I refused to repeat.

"You're right. It isn't about you, but it isn't about me either. It's about us. I don't want to play the game Angelus. I just want the truth."

He closed his eyes and looked every bit of his one-hundred and forty years of existence.

"I don't know."

He really didn't. When you took away the giving and you took away the taking, he really had no clue. Finally, someone was asking him what he wanted for a change and he was lost. He's supposed to be so strong, but it's a cover. The entire world buys the Angelus they want to see. In reality, he's a smart ass kid with a chip on his shoulder the size of Cleveland. That's all he is, a kid with a broken heart.

"Sit."

I said it because I knew it would be easier than waiting around for him to make his next move. He looked grateful as he sat down beside me. There, locked in that room, I saw his barriers fall. In those all too brief moments, we were partners; we were equals.

I ran my hand over his cheek, enjoying the slight rasp of the facial hair that had begun to grow. He swiveled his head slightly in my direction so I could caress him more easily. His tongue snaked out and he licked the surface of his lower lip as my fingers stroked the rises and hollows of his face. See what I mean, oral fixation?

I paused for a moment before gently lowering my mouth to his and I was lost. Every conscious thought, every carefully planned action went straight out the window. As I felt his tongue thrust into the cavern of my mouth, I became a mindless animal. All I wanted to do was devour him. In that ultimate act of fusion, I wanted to make him flesh of my flesh and bone of my bone. Where one would end, the other would begin.

Angelus gripped the back of my neck, grinding the surface of my teeth into the surface of his. Our tongues jostled in a mini battle for domination. I moaned has his tongue swept rapid circles around mine, mimicking his favorite treatment for my cock. My last conscious thought was that two could play that game. When his tongue was momentarily positioned beneath one of my fangs, I snapped my jaw down and my fang penetrated to its core. Angelus jerked against me spasmodically. His hands gripped at my shoulders, then my waist and finally they slid over my wrists. Amidst all that pleasure, he didn't know what to do with himself. The man loves pleasure, but he was weaned on pain

He tore his lips from mine and lay perched above me. When we fell to a lying position, I'm not sure. I just remember looking up into his face. His lips were glossy with his blood and I had to restrain myself from lunging at them again. He caught my stare and his lips spread into that damn cocky grin of his. God, I wanted to fuck him. His tongue stroked over the surface of his lips. The slightly weeping wound seeped a few more drops of blood before healing. I wanted it so badly. I felt my cock pulsing in my pants. It was like a living thing.

He must have noticed that I was drifting away because the hands on my wrists suddenly clamped down and I felt the bones in my arms rub together. I groaned some inarticulate sentence as he pulled my wrists over my head and pinned them there in one strong hand. Did I happen to mention that I get off on pain too?

"No hands," he said.

I vaguely recall thinking that I was supposed be in control but what the hell did I care; as long I got a long, hard fuck out of the deal, it didn't really matter. I nodded in agreement and his hand released my wrists. He brought his wrist to his mouth and slashed at it with his teeth. Blood splashed over his cheeks and dripped off his chin, rolled down his neck and onto his chest. He dropped his wrist to his lap and leaned over me. I looked into his bottomless brown eyes for a moment before beginning to move.

I lowered my arms, only to hear, "I said no hands."

"How," I asked. My brain was adrift in sensation. I suppose if I'd been operating at 100 percent, I probably would have figured it out, but as it was, he decided to help me. Angelus leaned over me, a wrist on either side of my head. I could smell the wound in his wrist and for a moment, I thought about turning over and sinking my teeth into it before I saw the look on his face.

Someone wanted a bath.

I smiled as his body dropped within reach of my mouth. His eyelids drifted shut as my tongue stroked across the rough surface of his cheek. I savored his blood. I'm not certain how to describe it to you given you've never had any yourself. Think about melting a half dozen Godiva dark chocolate truffles in a cup of whipping cream. That'll give you the general idea of how smooth and rich my sire's blood is compared with most. I'd say it's better than sex but well, it's not, but it is rather enjoyable.

As my tongue roved around his mouth, Angelus' lips parted unconsciously. I pressed my lips against his and rapidly flicked at his fang with the tip of my tongue before pulling away. He moved to grab at my head and pull my mouth back to his and I stopped him.

"No. No hands, remember? Be patient."

I winked at him and he growled. I'm the one who's supposed to be impatient?

I lifted my head off the velvety pillow and drew my tongue across the surface of his chin, licking away the residue of blood that clung there. My tongue trailed over his neck. I nuzzled at it with the tip of my nose and was rewarded when he dropped it into closer proximity with my mouth. I lapped at his jugular. The man has a truly awesome neck. It's thick, all those muscles and veins coursing with his blood. I resisted the impulse to bite. No, he was offering enough and there was no need to take more, yet.

My lips trailed over his collarbone and he jerked slightly as I nipped at it with blunted teeth. He pulled away and smiled down at me.

"Playing games?"

I grinned.

"Something like that."

He shook his head.

"Can I play too?"

"Not quite yet."

He pulled me up into a seated position.

"Fine, then I suggest you get to work," he said, dropping down into the covers.

My eyes swept over every inch of his body. His skin was glossed with a light sheen of perspiration and his chest and abdomen heaved with the movement of the air he was forcing through his lungs. His blood remained splattered on his chest and his erection twitched within the confines of his leather pants.

I grinned down at him.

"Fine, I will. But first," I said, getting off the bed for a moment, "these have fucking got to go." I tore at the drawstring of my pants and dropped them to the floor. I hadn't particularly cared where they ended up; I'd known that some sniveling minion would eventually take care of them for me. My erection thrust proudly from my body and I felt it bob under Angelus' gaze. I'll never forget the expression on his face. He wanted to consume it. It had been a long time since he'd felt a cock thrusting into his mouth. Sure, he'd had his fun with Drusilla, but she could never replace this.

I leaned over his chest and began licking at the last vestiges of blood that remained there. It had begun to congeal and must have itched like a bitch, but Angelus still allowed me to take my time. After I licked the final drop from his chest, I closed my lips over his turgid right nipple. I tugged at it a few times before I felt his hand close around my cock.

"Fuck, Angelus. Stop." I said as I tore my lips from his nipple.

"Why," he asked innocently, as his hand continued to massage up and down the length of my shaft. He twisted the loop of his fingers ever so slightly under the head of my cock and I barely contained a groan.

"Because you're going to make me cum."

He smiled.

"Maybe I want to make you cum."

Prick. What the hell could I possibly say to that? No, please, don't make me cum. I'm just here for your enjoyment. Yeah right. Just like any other man on the planet, my cock twitched with excitement and that was that.

"I guess I don't have a problem with that."

I saw him grin and suddenly I was flipped over on the bed beneath him.

"Good," he said, "I didn't think you would."

"You're a real cock sucker, you know that?"

He bent over, his lips hovering over my ear.

"And you love me for it."

A thrill passed through my body. He was right, I did.

I felt Angelus' chest brush against mine as he shifted his mouth over my neck. His lips hovered there for a moment and I felt small puffs of his cool breath caress my flesh. He was teasing me. The moist tip of his tongue glided in figure-eights over the surface of my neck. As he paid particularly close attention to my jugular, I felt the nerve endings in my body shimmer with sexual energy.

People often wonder why we vampires are so addicted to sex. Not only is it because of the dominance issue, but it makes us feel alive. The sensations that wash over your body are incredible. You hear each shuddering breath; you feel the blood pounding through your veins. Climax is like a symphony. Not only do you hear and feel the changes in your body, but your partner's as well. As I lay in the bed, waiting desperately for the moment when Angelus' lips would close over my flesh, I could hear him.

He let out a small, nearly inaudible groan as temptation proved to be too much for him and his fangs penetrated my flesh. My body jerked against the blessed, stinging invasion of his teeth. I clutched at the back of his neck, pressing his mouth more firmly into my skin. He growled, wove his fingers through my hair and began to feed in earnest. I shuddered as I felt the rush of blood flowing from my body. It's a bizarre sort of high. If done correctly, it takes you to the brink. Every feeling in your body suddenly snaps into focus. You feel everything. You see everything.

I began to squirm under him as my cock began to feel as if it were going to implode. He seemed to sense that he had taken enough and pulled away. I felt his teeth pull free from my neck and the feeling of abandonment swept over me. Those few precious moments of penetration had made me feel as though I were a part of him.

He licked at the tiny wounds in my neck before muttering a few hoarse endearments into my ear.

"Do you want me to wait?"

I shook my head, no longer capable of coherent speech. My mind was adrift in a sea of want and need.

As he pressed his hungry lips against mine, I could taste the remains of my blood on his mouth. It was thrilling to know that my blood had joined with his and coursed through his veins. I might no longer be physically connected to him, but my blood would always be there.

I felt his palm wind its way down my body and come to rest on my stomach. He stroked back and forth over its muscular furrows before running the tip of his finger in circles around my bellybutton. He pulled away from my mouth and looked into my eyes as his hand crept across those last few inches to my cock. It felt like an eternity. Now, I find myself wishing it had been.

I groaned as his fingers closed firmly over my shaft. As he smiled down at me, his hand began to clench rhythmically around me. I thrust my head backwards and my eyes shuttered tightly closed. It was too much. I couldn't take it all in.

I heard the slap of flesh against flesh as his hand jerked rapidly along my length. Somehow, amidst the overwhelming waves of pleasure that were crashing over me, I realized that the man still had his pants on. He was still playing the role. I hadn't told him it was ok to take his pants off and so he hadn't. He growled as my hand nudged against the stiff rise of flesh that was trapped within the confining leather. I felt his cock nudging insistently for freedom, as I released each of the metal fastenings that kept his clothing in place. I would have laughed at his sigh of relief as his cock finally came free, but my mind was on other things.

His hand pulled free from my body as he kicked his pants to the floor and stretched out beside me on the bed. His cold, hard length pressed into my hip as he adjusted himself to fit snuggly against the planes of my body. He propped himself on one elbow and stared down at me. I didn't really know what to think. Actually, I don't know that I thought much at all. Basically I just blinked up at him owlishly.

He winked at me before rolling over to retrieve the crock of ointment I kept in the drawer of my night table.

I moved to turn over on my stomach and he stopped me.

"No. Not this time."

I remember puzzling over what he was saying. He obviously recognized my confusion and cleared things up for me.

"This time I want to see your face, and I want you to see mine," he whispered as he draped my legs over his shoulders.

I felt tears burning in my eyes as he brushed his lips gently against mine. We hadn't had sex face to face since he found Drusilla. It had been too personal and there had been far too many things between us for either of us to feel comfortable with any serious type of intimacy. From the expression in his eyes, I knew he understood what I was thinking. Finally, I was beginning to comprehend the reality of the situation. He really wasn't going to leave me.

"No," I said, wriggling out of position.

He looked at me incredulously. Had I really just said no?

I grabbed the crock from his loose grip and dipped three fingers into it, gathering a generous amount of the ointment it contained. I smoothed it over my hand, enjoying the slickness of my skin. That ointment had come in handy on multiple occasions and I knew its consistency well.

My lips met his, swallowing his moans as my slick fingers wrapped around the length of his shaft. My fingertips played against the weeping head of his cock. His skin was so soft and smooth under my fingertips. I chuckled as his shaft slipped from my grasp a couple of times. The thing had a will of its own, rather like its master.

One brief look at Angelus silenced my chuckling. His golden eyes burned with a passion that had been banked for long enough. He'd had enough playing. He wanted, no demanded, satisfaction.

I silently handed him the crock and dropped back into the covers.

"Your turn, I believe."

He reached beside my head and pulled several over the goose down pillows beside him. He spent a few moments positioning them beneath me. For once, I could have done without his damn artistic perfectionism, but that's what he is, so I just went with it. After he finally had my body positioned to his liking, he picked up the crock again.

He thrust his fingers into the pottery and removed a generous amount of the milky cream. He slathered it across his fingertips before spreading the cheeks of my ass with his free hand. I groaned as his fingertip danced around my opening. I was going to kill him. First, I'd let him fuck me, and then I was going to kill him. He was going to have to die for tormenting me. It was as simple as that. Just shows how rational I was at the time.

I groaned as I felt the tip of his finger enter my ass. No one had been there since the last time we had been together. I felt my muscles protest the sudden intrusion. The discomfort lasted only a moment before I finally succumbed to the burning pleasure Angelus was forcing upon me. He thrust a second finger into my opening, applying more cream. He was being extremely cautious, he didn't have to, and that meant a lot to me.

A predatory grin spread across his face as he began to saw his fingers in and out of my asshole. My face contorted as I felt him searching for my prostate. I stopped bothering to maintain eye contact and threw my head back, silently offering my neck to him. He'd already taken some, but I wanted more.

I felt his fingers slip from my body and realized that he had decided that I was ready. I lay there for a moment, anticipating his first thrust, but felt nothing. I opened my eyes to see him hovering over me.

"Look at me."

I nodded mutely.

I felt a tear seep from my eye as he slowly eased his cock into my opening. I squirmed beneath him, trying to make his journey easier for us both. For a moment, I didn't think it was going to make it, then I felt his hips jerk forward in several shallow thrusts until he was seated deeply inside of me.

He lapped at the tear on my cheek before placing a gentle kiss to my lips.

"Ok," he asked in a whisper.

I nodded, savoring the sensation of Angelus' cock buried within me. My legs gripped at his shoulders, silently encouraging him to continue his invasion.

He pulled back slowly and I shuddered as I felt the hair around the base of his cock tickle at my flesh. He thrust forward more forcibly than he had exited and I groaned. As the pace of his thrusting quickened, a fine sheen of perspiration covered both of our bodies. His mouth joined with mine and our tongues mimicked the rapid thrusting of his cock. I struggled to keep my eyes connected with his at all times. I remember wanting desperately to push his mouth against my neck, but I didn't. The intimacy of that shared look was far too precious to give away so easily.

I felt my sex tighten as my climax approached. The rhythmic rubbing of the head of my cock against the muscular expanse of his abdomen wasn't helping any either. I clenched the muscles of my ass tightly around his shaft, picking up the intensity of our coupling. Angelus' fingers dug into my shoulders as he thrust savagely into my body. I remember thinking that I was going to pay for that later, but in that moment, I didn't particularly care.

As he struggled to keep his eyes open, I knew his climax was swiftly approaching.

"I love you," I whispered as he jerked against me spasmodically, the muscles of his stomach rippling. A guttural cry tore from his lips as I felt his cold seed thrust into my bowels. I panted as I tried to restrain my own climax. I felt Angelus' cock slip free from my ass as he dropped my knees back to the bed.

He slid down the bed until his mouth was level with my cock. I swallowed heavily as his mouth hovered over the tip. I wanted him so badly. He smiled up at me, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

"What are you waiting for?"

I moaned and thrust my hips in the general direction of his face. He easily caught the tip of my cock and I felt his blessedly moist coolness surrounding my burning flesh. I thrust rapidly, determined to get myself off as quickly as possible. He gently massaged my balls, and I lost it. I gripped at his head and thrust myself into his mouth as my cock pumped with my fluids.

He lay there for awhile, lapping at my softening member before climbing up beside me and wrapping his arms around me.

"Happy?"

I nodded, afraid of saying something that might ruin the moment.

"Good."

He dropped a kiss on my shoulder before sitting up and reaching for his pants.

"I think I'll go find us someone to eat; have to keep your strength up."

He grinned as he fastened his pants and pulled on his shirt.

"How do you feel about something of the gypsy variety? I saw one this evening while I was making the rounds. Foreign blood sounds good."

I shook my head.

"Whatever. Just find someone and come back soon."

He leaned over and pressed a quick kiss to my mouth. I could taste myself on him.

"Be ready."

He winked and walked out the door.

I spent the rest of the evening waiting for him to return. At first, I was convinced that Drusilla had snagged him on the way out, but after dawn broke and he still wasn't home, I knew something was wrong.

He was gone. My mentor. My lover. My God. When Angelus made me, he made me differently than the rest. He took care of me. He was my world and I was his. I lived for him, fool that I was. I lived.

Nearly one hundred years passed before I found out that he was still alive. He was alive and the damned fool Slayer had him. Of all the things to lose him to, that was one that I could not accept. But now, he's alone again. No more women to distract him.

As I lie on our bed and stare into his eyes as I have not done in over a century, I wonder if he remembers our time together. I wonder if it was as special to him as it was to me. I suppose it's too much to hope for that he remembers that night. I suppose those stolen moments are overshadowed in his mind by the ones that came afterward. I suppose . . .

My chest aches as I release a shuddery breath.

"You came."

He smiles.

"After a night like that, was there was ever any doubt?"

I find myself wondering if he means the night in LA or the night all those years ago. I suppose there's only one way to find out.

"Angelus?"

"Hush," he said, placing a gentle finger against my lips, "there's nothing left to say. I love you too, my childe. I love you too."

~Fin~