Nexus Chapter 5
Angelus pulled the door closed behind him and prowled into the room. Broad chest bare, sleek abdomen exposed to the limit of decency by partly unbuttoned black jeans, he was a magnificent sight, and knew it. Xander, frozen kneeling on the thin mattress at the foot of the bed, stared, then flushed, then pretended not to look. Angelus enjoyed the gratifying response to his presence for about five seconds, which was the amount of time it took Xander to catch a whiff of the food that he carried and transfer his attention fully to it.
Hardly surprising. The boy had gone a long time without eating, and Angelus had been hard pressed to hide his relief when the minions came to tell him of the boy’s surrender. He chafed under his self-imposed separation from the boy, and he had begun to worry as well. Would the obstinate little bastard starve himself to death rather than submit? Angelus avoided thinking about how close he had come to conceding the round, but was aware of a little glow of pride in the boy’s stubbornness.
Now, however, was not the time to show it. He sat in his usual chair by the fire, set the covered plate on the table at his elbow, and stared casually into the flames, pretending to ignore the boy. Stomach aching with hunger, Xander sighed and crept closer. As he moved, Angelus turned his expressionless gaze on the boy, hiding his emotions as only a fairly old vampire could.
He knows enough to come to me on his knees. Stubborn he may be, but he’s a fast learner. The vampire let the merest shadow of a smile play encouragingly about his lips. That’s it, my good boy. My pretty, pretty boy.
As Xander reached Angelus’ knees, the vampire lifted the snowy napkin off the plate beside him, revealing that it was Chinese food again, which suited Xander just fine, since he had been fantasizing about that damn eggroll for days now.
Having uncovered the food, Angelus sat back and looked at his captive expectantly. Bowing to the inevitable, Xander took a deep breath and avoided Angelus’ eyes. “Please, may I have some food?”
Angelus looked at him levelly. “Don’t you have something else to say, too?”
Bewildered, Xander stared up at him, chocolate eyes puzzled under furled brows, resentful, but hungry enough to ignore it. After a moment, he ventured a guess. “Um. I’m sorry for the way I acted?”
“That’s my good boy.” Angelus ruffled the boy’s hair back, then, giving in to temptation, brushed a fingertip down the curiously appealing little frown line between Xander’s brows, absurdly pleased when the frown smoothed itself out under his touch.
“I am going to feed you.”
Xander swallowed, then shrugged slightly. “Okay.”
A slight grimace of displeasure prompted Xander to try again. “Uh…Thanks?”
“Good boy.” Cool knuckles brushed the teen’s cheek lightly, and Xander unconsciously leaned into the touch. “There’s just one more thing.” The caressing hand moved to cup Xander’s chin, and the vampire leaned forward slightly, holding the boy’s eyes with his. “You will call me Master.”
Instantly, soft brown eyes grew stormy and black brows snapped together in a scowl.
Nay, now, my pretty, don’t give up now, thought the vampire, careful to hide his thoughts behind a blank expression. You’ve gone long enough without food. And I’ve had my fill of the bed of my childer.
Sure and that had been entertaining at the first. After he had left his boy the last time, Angelus had been on the verge of frenzy from the boy’s presence and the completely unfamiliar restraint he had imposed on himself. As was his habit, he attempted to purge his frustration in hunting. Unfortunately, though, the vigorous and bloody hunt only brought additional discontent. Drunk on blood, and going mad with his unrequited desire for the boy, his hardon threatened to burst the seams of his trousers. But the boy wasn’t yet ripe for use; in fact, Angelus was fairly certain that if he so much as let himself into the boy’s presence, the storm of possessiveness that brewed just beneath his skin might be more than the boy would live through. Aye, horny and frustrated, and short a place to sleep as well? No surprise that his footsteps had led him to his two childer.
Both of them had been surprised to see him stride into their chamber at dawn; Spike, in a perpetual black mood because of his paralysis, was in bed already, sitting up with a book propped against his bare belly. Never pleased to see his Sire these days, especially not in the privacy of his chamber, caught with a book in hand and reading glasses on his nose, Spike had--unwisely--snapped at the older vampire.
“To what do we owe the dubious pleasure of your presence in our chamber, then, mate?”
Angelus smirked at his youngest childe. “One would almost think that you were excluding me from that ‘our,’ if one wasn’t knowin’ that I own this house and everything-and everyone--in it.” As he spoke he bent his smile on Drusilla, who had turned from her dressing table at his entrance and sat squealing and clapping her hands, overjoyed at a visit from Daddy. “Isn’t that so, m’darling little girl?” He hooked an arm around her slim waist and snatched her roughly from the little stool before the vanity, dragging her hard against his chest.
The vampiress wrapped her arms ecstatically around his neck and pressed her smooth cheek against her sire’s, chanting blissfully, “Yes, Daddy, all for Daddy, everything for Daddy.”
Angelus whirled the girl around until she giggled dizzily, then caught Spike’s bitter gaze. “I was just thinkin’ that I’m neglectin’ you both; perhaps you’re missin’ your sire, then? Especially you, Dru, what with Spike somewhat….impaired.” He released Dru at these last words to bend over Spike with mock solicitousness, plucking off the reading glasses and dropping a playful kiss on the furrow -- like Xander’s, he thought idly-- between his eyes.
He grabbed Dru again and pulled her back against him to give Spike a good view of her blissful expression as he began to fondle her crudely. “Havin’ become aware that I’ve been remiss, I hurried hence to make amends.” Grinning, he lowered his mouth to Drusilla’s neck, which she bared for him ecstatically. He kept his eyes locked with Spike’s as he nuzzled her. Certain of the blond’s full attention, he suddenly ripped Dru’s lace nightgown from neck to waist, clasping one lovely white breast and squeezing roughly until Dru squealed in agonized delight, sagging limply in his embrace.
Spike spoke, his words bitten off short. “As ever, we’re bloody well moved to tears by yer spirit of philanthropy, Peaches. Do tell, is there any chance that you’ll take Dru and your charitable intentions elsewhere?” Spike knew that his suggestions was futile; to Angelus, half the fun of abusing Drusilla was Spike’s pain at seeing both her desire and her suffering.
“Spike, Spike! It’s not as if this is just for Dru’s benefit; aren’t I lendin’ you a hand with your obligations, so to speak? An’ I might even find time for a bit o’ therapy for you as well. So what better place than right here?” Angelus’ jovial tone did little to mitigate either the menace or the insult in his words, and Spike’s fingers whitened on the book in his hands, gripping until the spine creaked.
In one of her lightening changes of mood, Drusilla jerked suddenly out of Angelus’ embrace and whirled on him. “Daddy can’t take us to his room because that nasty boy is there; filthy, nasty boy…” She spat emphatically on the floor, splashing Angelus’ boots.
“Dru….Sweetheart, hush….” Teetering on the brink of a tantrum, Drusilla ignored Spike’s tense warning.
“Nasty, evil baby boy….spoiled baby’s thrown Daddy out. Daddy doesn’t care about us, only about the nasty, dirty boy.” She shoved Angelus, trying to budge him. “Bad Daddy, go sniff after your nasty brat. Go beg his forgiveness!”
“Enough!” All pretense of geniality gone, Angelus silenced the mad girl with a vicious backhand, only his grip on her arm holding her upright. Silenced, she stared at him with huge eyes, bottom lip trembling. “I have indeed neglected you, that you would so forget yersel’, Drusilla.” Enraged, he hissed, morphed into gameface and jerked her close so that her face was inches from his. “Ye’r not to speak of it again!”
Sobbing, she struggled in his grip “I’m sorry! I’ll be good….”
Watching Spike, he tightened his grip on Dru’s delicate wrist until she shrieked. “Too late for that, my girl.”
“Ooooooh, Daddy,” she moaned, “Am I to be punished now?”
“That you are.” Without further hesitation, Angelus ripped the remains of her gown from her, then flung her naked face down across the bed, ignoring Spike’s pained grunt as she fell across him.
“Daddy, please…..” she made to wriggle off the bed, and Angelus pinned her in place with one hand planted in the small of her back while his other hand worked at his belt buckle.
“Hush, girl. Spike, you’ll save this whore a bit of pain if you hold her down, for if she fights me I’ll beat her near to death.”
Sickened, Spike gripped Dru’s head and neck as they lay across his lap. “Give me your hands, that’s it, sweetheart, mustn’t make him any angrier.” Bending closer, he whispered, “I’m sorry, Dru, it’ll be over soon…”
Both of the younger vampires flinched at the swish of the belt being whipped from around his waist, then the whistle as it fell with a sharp “crack” across Dru’s white skin.
At that first blow, delivered with the full strength of a master vampire, Drusilla screamed and began to struggle franticly. Spike swallowed hard and slammed his eyes shut, ignoring the painful jarring of his spine as he tightened his grip on the writhing girl. He would gladly take this punishment in her place, but he knew from bitter experience that to suggest such a thing would make things worse for his princess. And he was no fool; deep in his heart, Spike knew that Angelus had come in with the intent of brutalizing Dru and of forcing him to participate. Drusilla, twisted as Angelus had created her to be, would for her part have been disappointed if she hadn’t received what was, to her, a mark of special attention from her beloved Daddy. He was the only one who got no enjoyment from this game; biting his tongue to keep his silence, Spike set himself to endure.
It seemed to go on forever. The master of the house beat his mad daughter methodically from shoulders to knees, coming back again and again to concentrate extra blows on the soft flesh of her bottom, until sheer exhaustion reduced her screams to sobs. Still, he showed no signs of slowing until traces of blood showed on her skin and she was reduced to the occasional soft, tired whimper. Only then did he drop the belt and jerk her to her knees, opening his pants and slamming into her, chuckling at finding her very wet and more than ready for him. He set a brutal pace, jackhammering into her; immediately, her whimpers turned to moans of unmistakable pleasure, and Angelus saw Spike’s expression solidify into hatred.
Grinning at his infuriated childe, Angelus spoke softly, just loud enough for Spike to hear him over Drusilla’s cries of enjoyment.
“Now what ails ye now, childe? I’m no’ hurtin’ her anymore--did you prefer it when I was?” Angelus shrugged, smiling evilly. “Very well then, as you wish.” With that, Angelus withdrew himself abruptly from Drusilla’s dripping softness and drove himself full length into her tight nether entrance. He grunted as he battered into her, then laughed as her anguished shriek drowned out the stream of curses that issued from his helpless younger childe.
“There’s no pleasing’ you, boy.” He wrapped his fist in Drusilla’s hair, arching her neck back. “Your princess is a bit easier. D’ye like it when Daddy does this to you, then, princess?”
“Yes, I like it.” Her voice was a thin tearful whine, interspersed with grunts as Angelus slammed into her. “Thank you, my Angel. I like it when you fuck me in the naughty place; punish your bad girl, Daddy.”
“Aye, that I will, my princess. That I will.” Angelus continued to slam rhythmically into his girl, concentrating on delaying his climax, wanting to prolong this brutal joining. Eventually, though, he could hold off no longer, and he came with a snarling howl, bending over her and latching onto her neck with razor fangs as he shot into her trembling body.
Spent, he allowed himself to collapse heavily on his childe, enjoying the sound and feel of her moaning and writhing unfulfilled beneath him. After a time, he rolled off her and directed her to fetch a cloth and clean him, resting his head on Spike’s thigh and smiling contentedly as he watched her scramble to obey. In a moment, she returned and wiped his essence and hers off his skin, then her own.
Then she crept into bed with them and pressed shyly against her sire, gazing up at him adoringly. Spike, Angelus thought, might as well not even be in the room for all the attention Drusilla paid him.
Finally, Angelus broke the silence. “Tell me, Drusilla--are you so used to being unfulfilled now that you’ll suffer it in silence?”
Now that the topic had been broached, Drusilla allowed herself a little whimper of frustration. “Ooooh, Daddy, I’m all squirmy. Only I thought perhaps it was part of my punishment.” She pouted up at him.
Angelus laughed and flung her onto her back, one hand pinning her by the throat. “No, my girl, even Daddy’s not that cruel.” Roughly, he shoved her legs apart with his free hand and stopped moving, poised there, looking steadily at Spike, while Drusilla writhed with increasing desperation, and the younger man stubbornly looked away. A pleading moan brought back Spike’s reluctant attention to the scene, and Angelus struck like a snake, catching her pouting clitoris between thumb and forefinger and twisting roughly.
“Come for Daddy.”
Immediately, she screamed and arched off the bed, rigid and trembling as she rode wave after wave of her climax. When it was over, Angelus swept her into his arms and spooned her to him, his back to Spike. “Poor little girl, just needed to come, needed it so bad.” He stroked her dark hair back from her forehead and pressed a kiss there. “Poor little Dru. How long has it been?” Drusilla was too blissfully exhausted to answer his questions, but Spike’s response was sharp and to the point.
“Fuck you, you filthy old sod.”
Angelus tutted at his enraged childe, then went back to ignoring him, holding Dru as she drifted into a deep and contented sleep. Spike doused the light, and the three were silent for an hour, Dru dead to the world, Angelus resting between his two childer, and Spike, pretending to sleep.
His sire wasn’t fooled, of course; even without the pain and rage he could feel rolling off Will in waves, he knew his childer too well not to know that his youngest childe was a roiling mass of emotion, predictably worked up by his old man’s practiced goading.
Careful not to wake her, he disentangled himself from Dru’s embrace and rolled onto his back. Immediately, Spike turned on his side, giving his Sire his back.
Fine with me, m’boy, thought Angelus. Smoothly he rolled across the mattress until he was spooned about the younger demon, who responded by stiffening his spine indignantly and pulling away from his Sire.
Angelus chuckled and drew his Will back against him. The childe kept his silence, but every line of his body screamed protest. After a moment, though, Angelus felt the slim, pale body relax in his embrace, and heard the harsh whisper. “Finally getting to the main event, then, are we? Well, get it over with then, old man. Don’t take the whole day.”
Angelus mouthed the boy’s ear and stroked the smaller body, noticing how compact, almost too thin, it was. “T’hear ye, one would think you didn’t like this game, m’boy.” Practiced fingers found a small nipple and teased it into hardness.
“I never liked this game, you soddin’ poof.”
“So y’ always said, an’ it was always a lie.” Angelus’ hand wandered down between the useless legs and found signs of life, as he expected. “Always.”
Voice roughly intimate, the sire continued. “A century and more, and you still let your feelings for Drusilla make a fool of you. Will y’ never learn better?”
“Apparently not.” Spike’s voice was resigned, but he was beginning to pant lightly, unnecessarily, as his Sire coaxed him to full hardness.
Spike groaned suddenly as he felt he Sire’s enormous erection grinding against ass.
“Aye, y’like this game well enough…always will.”
“Things have changed.” At those words, Angelus stilled for a moment.
“Much has changed, boy, but not this…”
“Yes it has.” Spike turned slightly so that he could look over his shoulder and pin the older vampire with an unflinching gaze. “We’ve never been the consolation prize before.”
The older vampire went still as death, and Spike felt cold fear skittering down his ruined spine. After a moment, an oddly gentle hand pressed, flat-palmed, against Spike’s jaw, turning his face away. Then an icy voice hissed in his ear. “Like it or don‘t like it, matters little to me.”
Then Angelus was lifting Spike’s leg, bending it up toward his chest to gain better access. Spike heard his Sire spit into his hand to provide rudimentary lubrication, then Angelus was pushing into him and Spike was groaning at the familiar burning, stretching pleasure. A big hand gripped his hip to hold him steady, and then his Sire was grinding into him and Spike was moving with him in spite of himself. A low sound of encouragement rumbled up from the broad chest at his back, and Angelus’ practiced hand palmed his erection, found a rhythm. Soon the two demons were moving in a familiar ritual, arching together toward completion.
Afterward, Angelus lay for hours, wide awake and restless between his peacefully sleeping childer.
Xander drew breath to tell Angelus what he could do with his fucking headgames, but something in the vampire’s eyes silenced him. The demon’s gaze was dark, fathomless, and Xander shuddered in sudden fear, not the run-of-the-mill “oh no it’s a vampire” fear, but an icy primal dread that came with sudden recognition of the true nature of the ancient being that sat gazing at him with an avid unblinking gaze.
With that recognition came a brief, terrifying glimpse of what it was that this creature wanted from him, and Xander felt his breath freeze in his chest.
His hunger forgotten, Xander sat paralyzed at the feet of the demon, huddled into the comforter, lost in the enormity of his situation. Angelus observed him with a raptor’s hooded gaze, watched the boy’s reactions as he let his true nature be revealed, let him see ages of violence and passion gleaming from his black and gold eyes. Finally, Xander forced words from his throat.
“What do you want from me? And why ME?”
Xander saw the vampire move, then in a sickening blur, he found himself lying on the bed of Angelus, with the vampire, demon countenance still to the fore, leaning over him and drawing the comforter away from his body as though opening a package. The voice that issued from the fanged jaws was growl-like, echoing, the demon demanding recognition of its otherness.
“You, because you’re the one I want. And I want all of you.” One large icy hand hovered over Xander’s chest, almost touching. “Will have you. All of you.”
The hand skimmed the air above Xander’s belly, and the flesh quivered as though the hand were touching him. At the tender skin just above the dark curls, the hand dropped lightly, flexed, rubbed.
“I’m not a man. I look like a man most of the time, but it’s an illusion. This is what I am. A demon, soulless.” Calmly, Angelus lifted the boy’s hand and held it to the alien folds of his face. “This is me.” Xander automatically tried to jerk his hand away as the bones shifted, but Angelus held him there, and in an instant Xander’s palm was resting against the angel’s face that masked the demon. “This is the illusion. It’s a mask, and it’s purpose is to get us close enough to humans to kill them, to feed on them.” Xander winced as the face changed again against his palm and he was face to face with the demon again.
“I don’t feel compassion. Gentleness is alien to me, and I’ve never offered another being tenderness without an ulterior motive. I crave the taste of your flesh and your blood, and the thought of giving you pain arouses me. Any kindness or tenderness I show you, now or ever, is because I can’t have you withholding anything from me, and if I have to court you to get what I want, I’ll do it. And if, in time, you can’t or won’t give me all that desire, I’ll take it by force.
“Jesus.” Xander swallowed hard. “Are you going to kill me?”
The demon gave it some thought. “Not in the foreseeable future, no.”
“My friends?”
Angelus shrugged. “I’ve not touched them.”
“Why are you telling me this? I mean, doesn’t my knowing all of this unvarnished truth kind of cancel out your….uh….wooing?”
“We may be short many of the finer feelings t‘ which humans aspire, but we have our own ideas of honor. Be clear, boy, I’m not givin’ you any choice on this. But I’ve chosen to give you the truth. And some time as well, but don’t try to take to much, as my patience is limited.” The demon, propped on one elbow beside the boy, bent lower, the fingertips of his free hand brushing lightly against the edge of the boy’s pubic hair, knuckles brushing tantalizingly now against the boy’s stirring cock. “I’ll take you as I please, will ye or nil ye, but unimaginable pleasures await us if you give yourself willingly…”
Xander’s eyes widened as the demon descended on him, the fearsome fanged mouth pressing against his, kissing him with deepening pressure until blood became, inevitably, part of the kiss. Moving as if in a dream, Xander found his arms sliding up, embracing the broad shoulders. With a soft growl, Angelus broke the kiss and buried his face against Xander’s throat, rubbing the hard ridges of his face against the sensitive skin.
Trembling, Xander touched his mouth, frowning dazedly as his fingertips came away smeared with blood. “I’m bleeding.”
“Aye, well ye’ll do that from time to time.”
Suddenly laughter bubbled up from Xander’s throat, and the demon raised his head, slipping into his human face as he looked at the boy quizzically. “Have I sent you mad, then, boy?”
Still giggling, Xander shook his head. “Nah, I was like that before I got here.” He shook his head, then sobered with an effort. “I was laughing because I realized that, after all that, I’m less afraid of you than I was.”
Angelus laughed himself then, a single sharp surprised bark. “That was not my aim.”
“Yeah, well I figured as much.” Xander shrugged. “But that’s how it came out.”
“I don’t want y’ to cower before me, but it wouldn’t be in your best interests to lose all fear of me.”
“I said I was LESS afraid, not UNafraid.”
The vampire nodded, satisfied, then bent to kiss the boy again. Xander flattened one hand against Angelus’ broad chest and turned his head away. The vampire growled softly, but drew back. “Aye, I did say I’d give you time.”
“Which is swell, except that assumes that I’m going to give in eventually, which is not a sure thing, is it?”
Admiration and anger warred for dominance on the vampire’s face for a moment, then he gripped Xander‘s face to hold it steady and kissed him hard, teeth and tongue plundering; drawing back a fraction, he murmured against the boy’s soft mouth. “Aye. It’s a sure thing. It’s a very sure thing.”
“Yeah, well, we’ll see.” Xander caught his breath as Angelus’ hand smoothed up and down his flat stomach, which rumbled under his touch.
Angelus snorted, but got up and retrieved the plate of food, and brought it to the bed. Xander reached automatically for it.
A blur of motion, and the plate was on the bedside table, and Xander was half-sitting, half-reclining against a stack of pillows, his wrists bound together and fastened to the wrought iron headboard above his head.
“My God!” Too dazed at the speed to register emotions at being bound again, Xander stared wide-eyed at the demon.
“Now ye’re getting’ it, boy. I’m God to you.” He bent close to Xander until his face filled Xander’s whole field of vision. “From this day forth, all the pain and pleasure in your life, all the comfort and suffering, all you receive and all you have to do without….it’s all down to me. Like it or no, I’m the center of your universe.”
Angelus kissed him again, with surprising tenderness. Xander, helpless, his mind whirling, gave in to sensation and let his mouth fall open, welcoming the demon’s exploration, twisting his body against the bonds, seeking more contact. With a growl of approval, the vampire moved lithely over him until he was lying along the boy’s body, straddling the mortal’s hips, pressing chest to chest as he deepened the kiss. Xander moaned softly into the kiss as Angelus’ chest rubbed against his sensitized nipples and their erections pressed almost painfully together. Angelus’ hands slid up under Xander’s shoulder blades, straining the boy hard against him, then slid up further to cradle the boy’s head, fisting in the silky hair.
When Angelus broke the kiss and looked down at his boy, Xander’s face was flushed, eyes heavy and dark with arousal. The vampire tightened his grip in the soft hair and asked, voice sharp with passion: “Who am I?”
Even at such a disadvantage, the boy could manage a snarky grin. “Uh, God, right?”
“Very good.” the vampire murmured silkily, then wiped the smile off Xander’s face through the simple expedient of rotating his hips, maximizing the contact between their groins.
“What will you call me?”
Xander searched his befogged brain for the right answer, then breathed “Master?”
At that soft word, Angelus felt himself get impossibly harder, but pulled back reluctantly.
“Good, then.” Still straddling his prisoner, Angelus stretched to retrieve the plate of food and rested it on Xander’s bare chest; tore off a chunk of the long-awaited egg roll and offered it. Xander, his attention still on the vampire’s face, opened his mouth obediently.
At the first taste, Xander felt his hunger returning full force, and he hurried to chew and swallow, opening his mouth ravenously for the next bite. Angelus chuckled softly and hurried his task, offering up the egg roll bit by bit until it was gone. When Xander had swallowed the last of it, Angelus laid his fingertips lightly against the boy’s mouth, smiling as the boy sucked on them obediently, cleaning off the residue of grease.
“Still hungry, pretty boy?”
“Yeah…..uh, yes, Master.”
“Very good. Clever as well as pretty, aren’t you, Sweet?
“Whatever you say…is that lo mein?”
“It is; open up.”
As Xander opened his mouth eagerly, a part of him reflected that, although he’d lost his clothing, his freedom, and his dignity, it was a damn good thing--lying there naked as he was, trussed up, with a vampire sitting on him feeding him Chinese noodles with a pair of chopsticks--it was a damn good thing he hadn’t lost his sense of humor.
