Author: Kay Tee and Anonymous
Disclaimer: Yeah, Joss's paying me a salary to write what he *really* wants on the show... except I'm lying and I'm poor. Don't sue me.
Rating: NC-17... sorta, someday
Pairing: Xander/Angel
Spoilers: Takes place sometime post-season 5. Was written a *long* time ago. Mentions stuff that sorta ended up happening in season 6, but being unspoiled, we didn't know it was gonna happen. Except when we did. Was written *very* slowly.
Author's Notes: Definitive ending? Why? Hah.
Xander grins because he needs to know how it would feel to touch the skin of this man. They have always been so close-- simultaneously enemies and friends and maybe, maybe someday...
At least in Xander's mind, alone in bed on weeknights when there are no crises, no emergencies, and no distractions now that he's even lost the constant screaming of drunken parents (once thought he wanted to lose that white noise), on those too irregular occasions, Xander gets to know what Angel's skin feels like.
Cool and just barely soft, and electric. This is what Xander imagines; nothing with the power that Angel radiates could possibly feel normal. Xander's certain that if he even just brushed by the vampire casually, he would be sparked right out of his shoes.
But now he has the chance to find out what Angel really feels like.
So Xander stands in the darkened lobby, grinning like he's stopping by to see an old friend, not hiding out until Anya the ex-ex-vengeance demon and ex-fiancée decides to leave Sunnydale. Angel looks tired and put-upon and maybe a little bruised, but when Xander reaches out for a handshake, the vampire takes the boy's hand.
The skin is cool, very soft, but covering a muscular hand, and Xander is struck by how normal Angel's touch feels. No sparks, but the hand is so familiar, the touch so ordinary, as if Xander's skin has known this vampire all along, has wanted him even since Xander himself was still lusting after Buffy.
The shake is cut off quickly when Angel withdraws his hand, looking as if he was shocked. Then Xander remembers, "Oh, sorry, spilled holy water in the car."
Angel just looks even more tired, but not at all surprised. "This way," and he turns up a central staircase, heading to the second floor.
Xander follows, one duffel bag containing his few remaining possessions slung over his shoulder. The brunette is struck by how unkempt the hotel is. Like it was abandoned in the fifties and no one ever bothered to do more than a half-assed job of cleaning it up. (Sometimes it's good to be literal.)
Angel stops in front of number 218 and hands Xander a key. "I'm 216," he says solemnly, and Xander hopes that was some thinly-veiled invitation to visit, then scolds himself for being too girly-- men don't 'visit.' At least not like that anyway.
Angel walks over to his room and opens the door. Having failed at suppressing his unmanly hopes, Xander turns as the vampire adds, "I sleep during the day, so be quiet."
Then Angel is gone, and Xander's still in the hallway. But the boy's not particularly discouraged, he's moving in with Angel. Xander doesn't really think about the way he feels, was never into examining emotions, he just knows he's fascinated with Angel. And he wants to touch the vampire again, wants to touch his face.
Xander lets himself into his new room and is a little surprised to see that it's in good shape. The sheets on the bed are mostly clean, a little dusty on top, but he's planning on being underneath. The bathroom and the mirror above the dresser are spotless, and Xander soon understands why when he opens a drawer and sees that it's full of Cordelia-shaped clothes. Most of the drawers have her stuff in them, but one has a few shirts and slacks that Giles would probably wear, and one has over-sized cargo pants and a very strange head-stocking thing that Xander is sure went out of style ten years ago. He wonders if these are Angel's clothes, if this is how the vampire used to dress before he came to Sunnydale.
The thought is snicker-worthy, and Xander closes the drawer, full of mental images of Angel with giant gold medals dangling from his neck. Angel with Z's, or maybe A's shaved into the side of his head. Angel listening to M.C. Hammer records, or Vanilla Ice, or more probably, Boys to Men.
There's no space to unpack his clothes, and Xander wonders why Angel put him in this room, but then he understands-- this is the only room that's decent. Xander sighs, deciding to find his own place in the hotel in the morning... or the afternoon since it already is the morning and he needs to get his full eight hours of beauty sleep.
He flops onto the bed and coughs as the dust he noticed earlier leaps to life and attacks him. He stands up and removes his now dust-saturated clothing, carefully pulling back the sheets and snuggling down to sleep.
+++
Closing his bedroom door, Angel can still hear Xander moving around, opening drawers, cupboards. He doesn't have to listen to hear the steady heartbeat. It sounds so loud in the quiet of the hotel, seems to echo around the walls with the quiet muffled noises of activity.
Sighing, he walks over to his closet, taking his jacket off and unbuttoning his shirt. It's times like these that he really feels alone.
During the day he has work to occupy him, saving people and earning his redemption, but when everyone has gone home, it's the stillness that gets to him. Brings home how lonely he really is. He finishes changing and pulls back the bedclothes, laying down. Putting his arm behind his head, he stares at the ceiling.
Somehow tonight having Xander here makes him feel more alone than ever. He wonders about the boy. Why did he come *here*?
Turning over, he tries to banish thought and let Morpheus take him. He's done good today. Saved a couple of people, followed up on Cordy's vision for the Powers that be. Again the thought comes unbidden. Why is he here? An image of the lad flips through his mind. Sharp eyes and sarcastic comments. They aren't friends, they'll never be friends, but Angel feels an attraction for the raw exuberance of the kid. The way he embraces life and runs full throttle towards it.
Just as sleep claims Angel, he sees Xander in all his glory, something he's never seen during waking moments.
Smooth, tan skin, hot flesh. Bright eyes and red lips. Just for a instant he indulges his fantasy, lets his ghost hands explore the exposed skin, stroke the warm chest, lick the throbbing pulse point just at the base of the neck. Even as sleep steals over him, he can feel his chest tighten as desire starts to awaken in him, a warm glorious feeling sensitizing his skin to the soft silk sheets. He can almost smell the warm blood flowing under the surface. Human blood, full of energy and light.
***
Waking, Angel can feel the sun filtering its way through the heavy blackout curtains.
Taking a moment to gather his thoughts, he pulls back the sheets and breathes in the afternoon stillness. He can smell Xander. A foreign scent mingling with the familiar human odor of Cordy and the others, adding another layer to the fragrance of humanity that wafts up to him. It's pleasant. Comforting. It reminds him of Sunnydale and Buffy and their time together.
He pads towards the shower, shaking off the lingering sleep that clings to him. Dressing quickly, he buttons his shirt as he heads downstairs. He can hear them gathered in the office, talking. Every now and then the soft tinkling of laughter floats to him as he descends; Cordy saying something, Xander laughing, Xander and then Wesley.
He smiles. It's a great day. Everybody's fine and he is another day closer to his redemption. This is his favorite time. Everything before him, new challenges to be faced together with his friends. Friends, that has a nice ring to it. Even now after everything they've been through together, his going off the rails, finding himself, asking forgiveness, and being welcomed home, it still gives him a warm feeling.
Friends, that reminds him of his new houseguest and his dream. He frowns; he shouldn't be having that kind of dream, especially about Xander Harris. Is it such a good idea having the kid staying with him if he's including him in his sexual fantasies? What will happen if he loses it again, Xander is a door away from him; maybe he should get him to change rooms, put him at the other side of the hotel? Better keep him at a distance, just in case.
+++
Xander drags himself upstairs to the fourth-story room he's fixed up for himself.
Yes, slaying demons with the Angel Investigations gang is just as exhausting as slaying demons with the Scooby Gang, but that's not what Xander's been doing.
Oh no, instead he spent the day at the carnival with Fred and Gunn, who wanted to go back and do the rides while they weren't on official business.
Xander practically staggers into his room and flops ungracefully onto his bed.
"Xander."
The dark haired boy barely raises his head to acknowledge Angel. The vampire stands in the doorway, looking as pensive as he has the whole past month that Xander's been at the hotel.
"Yes. Xander. That's me. Please don't tell me that you want me to get up. I am not moving from this spot until... ever."
Angel smiles gently and says, "No. You received a call from Willow today."
At that, Xander shifts a little on the bed to look Angel in the eye. "And?" He asks.
"The, uh, Anyanka situation has been dealt with."
"Dealt with?" There's a slight edge of panic in Xander's voice. "They didn't... kill her, did they?"
"No," Angel reassures him. "They... persuaded her to move on."
The two stare at each other in silence for a moment before Angel adds, "You can go home now."
"Now?" Xander still doesn't move, but his body visibly tightens. He can go home... He knows he should be ecstatic, but he isn't. He's made real friends here, reconnecting with Cordelia, bonding with Gunn and Fred over their ordinary-person-no-special-powers-here-ness, making nice with Wesley and Gru... and Angel.
Angel has been training with Xander in exchange for the work the young man has done to repair the hotel. After sparring for a few hours, the two of them would often chat over blood and beers.
Xander knows Angel thinks of him as a friend, just a friend, but the former and possibly future scooby has been having almost nightly dreams, fantasies, and imaginary orgasms over the vampire.
That would be nothing to worry too much about, if it weren't for the events of the previous day.
He and Angel had been wrestling lightly, taking it easy after a night of heavy fighting with a whole tribe of Hesth demons. The vampire had flipped Xander to ground, but Xander had managed to pull Angel down with him. They had landed on top of each other, both struggling desperately to rise first, when Xander felt something decidedly... hard against his thigh.
He had stilled immediately, and Angel leapt to his feet, taking advantage of Xander's surprise, but the vampire froze when Xander remained on the floor, staring at Angel's crotch.
Xander stood slowly, taking a cautious step toward the vampire. Angel had looked almost scared, but had held perfectly still as Xander advanced on him.
Xander continued to walk toward Angel until their bodies were almost pressed together. Then Angel had taken a startled step back and practically bolted from the room.
The whole situation gave Xander pause.
Her had never thought that his lust for Angel might be returned, in fact, he had always been sure that the vampire hated him. Even with their new almost-friendship, Angel always refrained from getting too close to Xander, never touching him when they weren't sparring, never spending too much time just hanging out with him...
And yeah, Xander knows that all vampires get 'worked up' over violence, received many long and disturbing lectures from Spike on the subject during the summer they all worked together, before Buffy came back. And he knows Angel was probably all excited over the wrestling, would have had the same reaction with anyone-- Gunn, Gru, Wesley.
But Xander's curiosity is piqued. What if...
But no. Angel was obviously reacting to the sparring, since today he seems so eager to send Xander back to Sunnydale.
The vampire says nothing, waiting for Xander to absorb the news.
"Well... home. I guess I can... go there. Now." Xander starts to sit up and is reminded by many sore body parts that there's a very good reason he was lying down in the first place. "Or tomorrow," he amends, slumping back against the bed.
Angel stands in the doorway still, watching Xander with one of his many unreadable expressions.
Xander frowns at the vampire and asks a little hesitantly, "Unless there's any reason I should stay?"
Angel frowns at that. "No, Willow was pretty certain that Anyanka's not going to be a threat to you any more." The vampire hesitates for a moment, and then leaves the room, closing the door behind him.
Xander closes his eyes, but doesn't want to fall asleep. This is his last night at the Hyperion. His last night in L.A.. His last night near Angel...
Two dark eyes pop open suddenly, and Xander sits straight up, exhaustion be damned. His last night... his last chance... But Xander quickly shakes those thoughts off, shucks out of his clothes, and climbs under the covers.
Angel sounded so adamant when he said that Xander should go home. The vampire was obviously very put out by his latest guest.
So Xander will just go. He can fantasize about a man he will never get to touch just as easily in Sunnydale as he can in L.A.
Yeah.
Right.
+++++
Angel's relieved Willow called. Send him home (keep him safe) Keep whom safe? He doesn't know anymore - keep Xander safe from Angel or keep Angel safe from temptation?
He knows it's wrong, can feel it in the pit of his belly, lurking just under the pigs' blood he drinks every day; like oil and water, he can feel it laying heavily in his belly every time he looks at the lad. Every time he speaks to Xander, smiles at him, and yesterday with the adrenalin flowing through Angel and the easy dominance he felt, he'd almost lost it. He'd felt the Demon start to rise it's head and roar, "*mine*," and he'd almost lost it.
Falling on Xander, feeling his hot, trembling limbs spread under Angel, pressing Xander into the cold training room floor, the urge to ravage-- bite, claim-- had almost been too much. The image of brown eyes dilated with excitement, fear... lust? Had almost pushed him over.
Angel could feel himself teetering on the brink, looking down over the precipice. *That way lies damnation.*
Just for a second he saw himself crushing soft red lips, grinding his mouth into pliant flesh, could see himself ripping at the thin sweats with a savagery he's almost forgotten. Feel the electric jump as material rips and inhuman hands touch exposed skin. In his mind's eye he saw human hands reaching out to claw smooth ground as he slid his hands down, seeking the hardness he knew to be waiting. He could feel it throbbing in his hand, warm and heavy, pulsating with life.
Like a junky craving a fix, the overwhelming physical need to mark that soft flesh and claim that hot body had flooded through him. It had been almost painful, the need to rub his hands down; push them under muscled thighs and lift, throwing aside anything that might get in his way. At that moment, just for a second, he'd have killed anything that came between him and pushing into the beautiful body sprawled beneath. Ripped to pieces *anyone* who got in the way of him sliding in, pushing past the tight ring and thrusting into the warm velvet depths; pounding and marking Xander with his cold seed and harsh thrusts.
Angel shakes his head, trying to clear the images that assault him. Looking at the closed door, he feels the fear that's been hiding at the back of his mind for the last month. Who'd have thought Xander Harris would be the one thing he dreaded most? Who could have imagined of all the Demons he'd faced, the apocalypses he'd averted, the one thing that could defeat him would be a human boy?
Licking his lips, he pulls back the hand that has stolen of its own volition towards the door and backs away, turning to head down the stairs to Cordy and sanity.
He decides maybe it's a good thing Willow called, thinking of the dark wood door and what lies inside... *This way lays damnation*.
++++
Cordy looks up from the pile of paperwork covering her desk. "Oh, Angel." She runs a hand through her hair in exasperation. "Don't get me wrong, I love Xander. *So* over the," she waves her hand, "animosity thing and stuff," she gives Angel a longing look as he stops in front of her, "but could you go ask him for receipts?" She sighs dramatically and throws her arms in the air. "He's *so* not good at the accounts thing, I mean... Please... Business here! Books to balance... staff to pay (*me* to pay), so could you go kick his hiney and get the receipts he promised me, like, last week?"
Angel swallows, suddenly the lobby seems smaller. "Cordy, I..." he trails off.
"He's got like... 200 dollars worth, and if he doesn't give me those babies, tell him I'm taking it outta his-" She stops. "Angel... You okay?"
Angel tries to smile and banish the image of tanned Xander butt just waiting to be licked by a salivating Angel. "Fine," he squeaks. "I'm fine, Cordy, just gonna go..." he clears his throat, "gonna go... tell him... right now," and backs away. He knows there's no point in arguing with Cordelia, and after Willow's call, this is probably gonna be his last chance to see a sleeping Xander. As he heads back up the stairs he chants to himself, "Just look, just look," with each footfall. "*Just* look."
Reaching Xander's room, he can't help the thrill that runs through him as he turns the handle and softly opens the door. Xander is already asleep, Angel can see the fatigue etched in his face as he walks softly around the bed and crouches down by the sleeping form, running a finger along a smooth cheek.
Xander murmurs in his sleep.
Angel stills his hand, waiting. "Xander?"
He watches, fascinated, as Xander pulls an arm slowly from the covers and drapes it across a startled Angel's shoulders, pulling him inwards and nuzzling Angel's neck. The touch of sleep warm skin sends a jolt of electricity straight to Angel's groin and all his dream fantasies come surging forward; for an instant caution is thrown to the wind. He can feel the push against his trousers, and the urge to reach his hand under the covers and push fingers inside the sleep shorts he knows Xander wears nearly overpowers him.
He can almost feel the wiry hair with soft skin underneath and the warm thighs parting under his touch. He can feel his fingertips tingle, as in his imagination, he softly strokes the skin, pushing down and gently kneading Xander's balls; cupping them and working. A ragged sigh slips out, fluttering the short hair at the nape of Xander's neck as Angel sees himself pushing further and stroking that sweet place just behind; stretching his arm as far as it would go and pushing between virgin buttocks; feeling for that special nub.
Oh sweet Jesus. Angel squeezes his eyes shut as reality comes flooding back. He shouldn't be thinking this... Without realizing, he's lowered his head and started to mouth Xander's neck just above the shoulder blades. He shouldn't be doing this, as imagination kicks in again and he presses an imaginary digit against the tight opening, stroking as he pushes and feeling the flesh give a little.
Fantasy supplies lubrication as the digit slips inside, squeezing past the muscle and sliding home. Pulling out to the fingertip and thrusting back in. Mind's eye supplies a gasping Xander arching upward and reaching down to touch himself.
Oh Gods, suddenly Angel's cock replaces his finger and he sees himself looming over Xander, looking into glazed brown eyes, feeling two strong thighs squeeze around his neck as he pounds hard, every thrust pushing Xander a little nearer the headboard.
Feeling the heat scorch him as the friction grows, pistonning his thighs, clenching his buttocks, and losing rhythm as climax nears. Falling forward and pulling Xander's ass with him. Folding Xander like a pack of cards, head on the pillows, ass in the air, impaled on this cock; almost bent double as Angel thrusts one, two, three times and with a final push, Xander's head knocking the headboard, Angel shoots deep.
Angel feels a cool wetness start to soak through his pants as he comes down from his high. Opening his eyes, he focuses on the hot pink love bite he's left on Xander's back. He can feel Xander breathing heavily against him, hot, ragged breathing and he bites his lip. Reaching around, he disentangles the hands entwined behind him and pulls back, holding the two wrists imprisoned in front of him and swallowing hard.
In silence, he pushes Xander carefully back, ignoring the confusion in wide brown eyes and placing Xander's hands over his chest, Angel backs towards the still open door.
++++
"What about me?" Xander's voice is clear in the dark, a little angry and a lot confused.
Angel stops in the doorway, the light from the hall framing his figure, but his face is in darkness and Xander has no idea what the vampire might be thinking right now. "What?" Angel asks, his voice sounding a little choked.
Xander sits up, adrenaline making him temporarily forget his soreness. "You just... whatever you did, you got off..."
Angel interrupts, "I'm sorry, Xander. That was wrong of me-"
"No," Xander cuts in, "that was great of you. But what about me?"
Angel stares at Xander in confusion for a moment before he sees it. The bedsheets were pushed down when Xander sat up, and now Angel can see-- Xander's hard.
The master vampire gulps and takes a step back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him this time.
Xander is pitched into complete blackness. He blinks and tries to look around, but he can't see a damned thing. He can't hear anything either, has no idea where Angel is-- begins to doubt the vampire is even in the room anymore.
So when one of Angel's enormous hands reaches out of nowhere to cup Xander's face, the boy jumps about a half a foot in the air. The hand immediately pulls away, and once again Xander is left in total darkness, with no contact at all.
After a long moment, Xander whispers, "Angel?"
And the hand is back, pulling Xander forward a little until he meets Angel's lips. Just a quick kiss; rough lips sliding briefly against his own, a tiny nip of blunt teeth, and then Angel tilts Xander's head back.
The vampire laps his way down Xander's neck, occasionally biting and sucking, but mostly just licking the sleepsweat from the boy.
Xander opens his mouth to say... something, he has no idea what, but just then preternaturally strong hands rip his sleep-shorts away, and that's just... very... wow.
Then the hands are gone, but the mouth hasn't lost its rhythm at all, cool lips and tongue, and that's *Angel* down there, Angel of Xander's fantasies but never, not ever of any kind of reality. Xander is afraid to move, afraid to find this is just an illusion, afraid to end this, though he desperately needs to be sure this is real... But his body knows, and it just wants that mouth to continue what it's doing right now, and Xander can't possibly make himself do anything that might try to stop it.
Oh, and Xander is so completely lost, doesn't know which way's up or down or inside-friggin-out. Can't see anything, can't feel anything but his own quaking limbs, and Angel's mouth making its way past his collarbone to his chest.
Angel hasn't said a damned word since Xander demanded that the vampire come over here and-- and oh, Xander can't *believe* he said that. In all his fantasies, he'd never imagined just up and demanding that Angel... service him.
But the vampire doesn't seem to mind. He's quietly made his way past nipples, and is running his tongue along the rim of Xander's navel.
The boy groans, pleading, "Please, Angel. Talk to me, touch me, God, *please*."
Feels a tightening of lips against his belly before Angel pulls away. "Ssh, don't... just let me... don't..." There's desperation in Angel's voice, and Xander thinks maybe the vampire *needs* this to be quiet.
So he lays back, but he finds Angel's head and runs his fingers through the vampire's hair as those cool lips return to his body.
Angel seems so singly focused on Xander, marking a wet trail from the boy's navel to his inner thigh and back up again, mouthing Xander's testicles greedily, running his tongue backwards from there when Xander really just wants it to go forward--
But oh shit! Xander nearly buck completely off the bed as Angel's firm tongue strokes his perineum. And Angel suddenly has hands now. He's gripping Xander's ankles and he's pushing them up, up, and spreading Xander open, oh.
Xander's fingers have gone completely numb, every nerve in his body has moved down to his ass, down to his ankles, and now the boy only exists where Angel is touching him...
Angel's tongue working back until it's stroking Xander's hole-- around and around and just barely in and Xander feels like sobbing, but he's so close now, shaking and tensing all over, and when Angel scrapes his tongue forward-- out of Xander, back up his perineum, over his balls, and finally up his hard shaft, Xander does sob, a horrible wrenching sound, and when it's over he can feel Angel licking the cum off his belly.
"Go- uh- ner- *Angel*," Xander has no idea what he wants to say, and it seems he's not going to get a chance, because Angel pulls away, off the bed, and sinks so quickly back into the darkness of the room.
Xander is too satiated to move, just calls out weakly as he melts into his covers, "Angel, stay." But there is no answer from the blackness, and Xander is so tired.
***
Angel watches Xander fall fitfully asleep before slinking out of the room. Xander will go back to Sunnydale in the morning-- this night is excusable.