 |
ethrosdemon ||| Buffy & Angel
DissonanceV: Crescendo
by ethrosdemon
Distribution: You don’t want it
Disclaimer: Joss made it up, too bad he is an incompetent ninny. Mutant Enemy and others own the rights. No suing please.
Rating: NC-17 for non-consent m/m and many ouchies
Pairing: A/X, X/A
Dedication: Lar and Donna, one who thinks it isn’t evil enough, the other who thinks it is too evil.
Note: Um, k, this is like, 6th in a series or something. It follows “Impromptu: Darla”. Previous parts at eterniata.com, read them or you will be in the dark (and since Angelus is known to lurk there, not a good place).
NoteII: I think only one more to go.
Spoilers: Gen seasons 5/1
.. .. ..
“Xander!” That tone of voice means she wants something. ‘Cops’ is on, redneck abuse, gotta get my redneck fix.
She’s got the heating pad…and a tub of ice cream. I see how this is gonna go already. Now we also have the patented Female in Need Look.
“I started my period. You don’t have tampons. Go get me some. And chocolate. With nuts in it.” She’s curling up into a ball on the couch facing away from me, so really not a lot I can do to argue.
“An, could you remember to bring important stuff over in the future. Priorities, tampons MORE important than three pairs of houseshoes.” Where are my damned keys now?
“My feet get cold, and consumerism is the cornerstone of your culture. You have more than three pairs of socks.” Not going to even start to argue over this.
Damn and double damn, I forgot to ask her what brand and…variety? I guess I’m supposed to just *know *. Her favourite game lately, ‘you don’t know me well enough”.
Of course it’s COMPLETELY dark now. She couldn’t have sent me out a half hour ago. Whatever. I can get myself some chocolate too. Life is looking brighter. Chocolate and maybe some of those sour Skittles and some peanut butter cups.
“Not afraid of the dark anymore?” Is that the bell tolling for me? No, just Angel…yeah, it is the bell, ‘cause that sounds a hell of lot more like his alter ego.
Three feet behind me in the middle of the sidewalk. Serial-killer smirk and loose muscles. Following me, stalking me, which is not Angel. Angel follows Buffy. Angelus follows me.
“I knew you were evil again. Why did you even bother lying? False sense of security?” Careless steps, and the three feet is more like one.
“You’ve had one of those for a couple of years now. You didn’t need me to lull you.” New wardrobe. No leather. Cargo pants? What the…
“Besides, I never was anything but evil.” Shock of laughter at his own joke, almost makes me jump. In my personal space, but no touching, just looming and filling space that I might need when I make my break for it.
I used to think everyday could be my last. Today I woke up thinking about what Anya and I would do this weekend.
“Are you thinking about your new bedmate?” The adrenaline flushing the blood from my veins, making the universe move slow, like the air is turned to water and every muscle twitch or eye-blink takes second upon second.
Could have run back to my apartment in the time it takes him to snake one hand to the base of my neck. His other curling a finger in a belt loop and forcing my body to meld to its old pattern, his reflection in flesh.
“Tell me the story on the demon girl.” No licking, no nipping, just his mouth as close as it can be without touching me.
“There is no story. Let me fucking go, Angelus.” Burr of a growl from his chest rumbling into mine.
“There is always a story, but you don’t have to tell it. I know everything about you.” So, I HAVE to make some attempt to get free. Wiggle, squirm and just enabling him to get a firmer hold on the base of my skull, because he flips me around using my neck as leverage. Shoves me onto the hood of a car, mounting me in some completely primeval show of dominance. Pinned by his weight, and fear bubbling up that he might be about to crush my brainstem.
The seriously-in-need-of-medication voice is there too. Why did it take him so fucking long? Why not a year ago?
Achingly familiar brush of velvet lips to my ear.
“There is going to be pain. How much and what kind is up to you.” Yes, here we have the answer to the sickest night whispers and fantasies so heinous there are only pictures, no words.
Searing pain pulsing out from my left shoulder. His mouth. Teeth embedded there. Withdrawing again.
“You’re taking too long.” Copper toned voice.
“Just tell me. You’ve been hard since you heard my voice.” Sex-God laugh, coupled to his tongue stabbing at the wounds, suction again, and the pain is fading enough to speak. One heartbeat’s hesitation and he steals the speech, his hips finding a rhythm, riding me. Don’t let him…the base of his left hand giving me just enough friction to want to, ah, push back.
“Be a good boy, and I’ll let your head go.” I’m not the only one who still lies for no apparent reason.
“Just kill me and save me the build up. It’s only fun for you.” Left hand splintering one of the bones in my wrist, yanking my arm behind my back, forcing me to walk forward in front of him.
“It could have been just as fun for you.” Not really. It never is.
Coming to is never enjoyable. Mucho experience on that. Head trauma usually leaves me wanting a drink.
Handcuffed to the door. Seatbelt’s on though. Split personality.
“You still have the Stalking-mobile.” Looks startled to hear me talk. Resilience boy, that’s me. Take a blow to the head and pop up with a snide remark.
“The undead tend to be sentimental.” Could he be more of a freak? Or sexier when his ringed fingers reach out to tuck my hair behind my ear?
“Angelus, if you…” Hand moving at the speed of sound and, shit, that wrist is definitely broken.
“I’m not Angelus.” Bottom falling out of my reality, dropping through nothing, and the same thought all along—I fucking knew it.
“Fine then. Like I give a…” Tires leaving their tread on the pavement, and the passenger front one coming to rest on the sidewalk. His seatbelt off, and he’s on me.
“You won’t speak unless I give you permission.” Consciousness is still a little fresh here, and the pressure on my wrist might cause me to fade. Both bones gotta be broken now.
“Why do you have to make this so hard on yourself? I came for you, didn’t I? Isn’t that enough?” How could he…no one knows, so what is he…Making me think he can read my thoughts. Old trick. One of his favourites.
His expressions bleeding into one another and shifting with every two words, and I don’t recognise one of the medley. Lust might have been there, but might not have.
“You know, don’t you, sweet boy? Always so much quicker than anyone counted one. I always knew though.” So long, it’s been, but his mouth tastes the same. Like my blood and spearmint. Menthol. Try to clutch at his hair, but handcuffs clinking and he pulls back.
Fruitition of so many longings, rainbow of desires working from the simplicity of need to the complexity of hate.
“Will you walk on your own, or do I have to knock you out and carry you again? Not that I mind, your scalp bleeds a lot.” Producing keys secured to his key ring.
“I’ll walk.” Toothful smile that would look loopy on another, but looks deadly on him. What wouldn’t look deadly on him, death clings to him and goes where he goes. Comes to me when I call in my mind.
“You should have come to visit me once since I moved. This might never have had to happen.” Quiver to his bottom lip, very Angely, maybe he wasn’t lying. Whisper of lips on my eyelids. Is he saying he missed me so much he needs to beat the fuck out of me?
Handcuffs are gone, but I can’t rub the chaffing, my left arm is numb from fingertips to elbow. Which is not a bad thing.
Him rounding the car and unlatching the door. Wedging me out. Fingers playing along the base of my spine nudging me along.
His old apartment. Right. Of course.
“A Mentara demon owns the building. No rent for non-humans.” His back to me and I can here the joke threaded through the words. Could be serious, could be making it up.
Walks right across the threshold, so it is most likely the truth. All this time, and I wonder if anyone else knows. Watching him lead me to my own destruction, and I just follow, don’t even make a break for it when he’s inside. So sure of me he doesn’t glance over his shoulder.
Spun and stomach jammed in the tabletop. Him in his favourite position across my back holding the uninjured arm above my head.
“Did you think you could talk to me like that and I would let it go?” Teeth again, my ear this time, and no words for that, barely a thought. Can feel the blood pooling in my collarbone, ah, his tongue lapping it now.
Am I supposed to answer?
“I didn’t really think about it either way.” Whoosh and my pants are being ripped from my body leaving burns across the fronts of my thighs. Maybe some hair went too.
“Exactly the problem I intend to remedy. You’ll think before you speak next time. I guarantee it.”
Kicking my feet apart with his boot, scraping skin off my ankle. Not going to beg him to stop. All I have left. Not going to beg.
“No tears. A man now. Which is good, because I like men much more.” The material of his pants skipping against my legs as t it drops to the floor. Somehow I know this isn’t going to be ending with him getting me off.
His fingers jab into my mouth trailing spit when they withdraw. They leave behind just that tiniest trace of Angelus-flavour, leather, blood, soap, enough to confuse me, make me forget what is happening here.
When the pain hits the world falls to spiralling agony, red and black like a top whirling. Teeth in my throat, his cock in my ass.
And right before blessed blood loss claims me, his voice moving over me.
“Alexander, it still isn’t your time. Death won’t succour you tonight.”
.. .. ..
“Why didn’t you ever tell me before?” Really, because I didn’t ever want you to look at me like that. I never wanted you to bawl your eyes out and burn with a full-body blush in sympathy shame.
“Just don’t tell anyone. Ok? I mean, I’m sticking with the random attack story.” Why am I awake at all? Can’t I just be in a coma now?
“Not even Anya?” Her hand is fluttering a few inches from mine. Can’t touch me there. Cast.
“Especially not Anya. I just told you so that someone would know where I was when I left the hospital.” Heart spikes on the black screen. Reassuring beep to go along with it.
“Wills, could you get the nurse? I need her to help me pee.”
back to top
|
