TITLE: Standing on the inside looking out
AUTHOR: Ophelia
EMAIL: ophelia_rd@yahoo.com
DISCLAIMER: Joss, not I.
DISTRIBUTION: Let me know where it's going
CATEGORY: A(us)/W(m)
SERIES: Enemy Within
PART: 3/?
FEEDBACK: Yes please!!
VISIT ME: http://www.oocities.org/dra_gon_fly_er/
Standing on the inside looking out
He was sick of her whining.
Her endless going on about their differences.
About how much of a failure he was compared to her precious Liam.
The chap was an idiot!
And frankly speaking, the thought of being compared to that vegetable for the next couple of lifetimes thoroughly set his nerves on edge.
She wanted Liam?
Well, Liam she should have!
That in mind Angelus more and more retreated, allowing the man whoes body he inhabited to - occasionally at least - take over and pleasure the blonde bitch.
Alright, he still had to watch them fuck or listen to their ludicrous little plots.
However, letting the cretin deal with the hellcat did wonders for his peace of mind.
Once he managed to tune out their dull chitchat he could let his mind drift towards other, more enjoyable affairs - namely the striking young lad, William Nicholas Campbell, son of the retorted match's latest business associate.
Oh, sure, he was still such a baby - barely sixteen…
Terribly innocent and shy, but with the most amazing blue eyes.
An awful poet, though!
For some reason Angelus had sensed a kindred spirit in the lad, a spirit worth spending time with.
However, he had to be cautious about this, since neither Liam, nor Darla were to fond of the boy.
And Angelus wanted it to stay that way.
Things they disliked they destroyed or disposed of, where again things that caught their interest…
He'd seen the results.
Had learned to live with Penn and Drusilla.
But his was definitely something he wanted to spare the young man.
That's why he kept their meetings casual, never had more than a few impersonal words with the youth and even this only when he could be sure that Liam'' mind was engrossed in rehearsing Darla and his latest horizontal installment.
Which was usually right before dawn, after Darla had dozed off and the approaching sun was draining him of his energy.
Angelus loved to go for a brief wander this time of the day.
After it wouldn't be the first time that he accidentally ran into the object of his desire.
William Nicholas Campbell.
The boy obviously was an early riser.
And sitting under the porch of his remote little room seemed to be his daily ritual.
However, not so today…
***
"Where're ye off to, lad?"
Angelus effortlessly grabbed the frantic young man by the nape of his neck.
He could sense his panic and fear and involuntarily slipped into defense-mode.
"Quiet, lad, quiet!"
He easily clasped the struggling figure to his chest.
He sighed, contently.
It felt so good to be close to a warm beating heart.
"Tell me, lad, what happened to ye?"
He held the boy steady, even when he felt his muscles grow rigid and he anxiously tried to pull away.
"Ohmi…"
"Stop it, William!"
Angelus tightened his grip on the youth, efficiently trapping his arms between their bodies.
"William!"
His voice rose, hoping that might make him snap out of it .
However, the contrary was the case.
"Sir…, Mister…, Mister O'Sullivan…"
The young man pleaded, all the while fighting his hold with a strength born out of angst.
"Holy Mary, what the hell is wrong with ye, lad?"
Angelus involuntarily let go of the kid - only for an instant, only long enough to grab him by his shoulders and force him to meet his black eyes the very next second.
"Talk to me, William, tell me what's wrong!"
He groaned, partly because of the boy's watery blue eyes and partly because all of a sudden he could feel Liam stirring. Something about the troubled youth must have caught his attention.
And if Angelus was to take a bold guess he'd say it was the boy's fear plus the faint leftover odor of a recent ejaculation.
+Damn it all to hell, of course, that's what it was!+
Angelus carefully sniffed the air.
+Had somebody forced themselves on the lad?+
He sniffed again.
+No, whatever faint odor intoxicated the air, it was definitely the clean male scent of the trembling youngster.+
Then it hit him.
Masturbation, of course.
No big issue for one well over one hundred years of age, but for this fine sixteen years old lad here…
"I think I'd love to see him squirm - my cock up his arse, ripping his hole!"
Now it was up to Angelus to stand rigid.
He hadn't quite realized just how wake and interested in their conversation Liam had been.
"You touch him and…"
And what? Ye gonna confide in Darla? - I somehow don't think so!"
He hated to admit it, but the cruel bastard was right.
There was no way he'd confess to his sire, not after he'd finally discovered the perfect means of avoiding her - Liam!
"I already thought so!"
How much he'd like to pay him back his sarcasm.
"Let's go back."
However, he slowly turned towards William instead.
The boy immediately lowered his head and if possible his body stiffened even more.
But he no longer fought against the strong arm encircling his shoulders.
There was something about the big stranger - something about Liam O'Sullivan he hadn't noticed before - something that made him feel save and content.
***
He had bathed eight times since he'd returned to his room.
So far he hadn't found any black spots, although he still wasn't totally convinced yet that he's been spared.
He thanked the Lord that he'd ran into Mister O'Sullivan.
He had been so good to him.
Had held him and allowed him to cry.
Just like that, naturally, as though he was worth of his comfort and not just some pitiful thing.
It was a bit funny actually, as - apart from their early morning conversations - he'd always had the impression that Mister O'Sullivan didn't like him very much.
Maybe it was only because he had to maintain a certain image in front of his host.
However, he was glad he'd been wrong.
And he had to have been.
No-one ever had held him simply for comfort, just like that, for no particular reason.
He wondered if Mister O'Sullivan and his wife had children.
Maybe they would take him with them if the hadn't and if he asked nicely.
Surely his father wouldn't mind.
To him he was nothing but a nuisance - an extra eater that didn't deserve a single spoon of the food he himself had worked so hard for.
How many times had he shouted this very sentence into his face?
And how many times had he hungry and heart-broken left the family table, weeping into his pillows until he'd finally fall asleep?
Mister O'Sullivan would never do this to his children, of this he was sure.
He would love him and encourage him in his studies even if all he was good at was poetry and arts.
He was his hero no - Mister O'Sullivan.
Maybe if he was of service…
If he looked after his carriage and horses…
If he arranged some freshly picked flowers for Lady Darla…
Maybe, maybe then…
+I'd be a good boy.+
+I'd make him proud of me.+
+I'd protect him.+
+And Lady Darla.+
+And their children.+
+If only he'd take me with him…+
+If only he'd allow him to be his childe…+
+He'd never disappoint him, always be loyal - forever and a day.+
***
"Damn it, Angelus, what the hell is wrong with that lad?"
A look of utter annoyance distorting her delicate features, Darla vehemently stomped on the lovely bouquet of wild flowers which had been carefully placed in front of the guest room door.
"He's making me sick, with his big puppy-dog eyes - why is he bothering us like this?"
"I don't know, dearest."
Her lover swiftly bent down to retrieve the crushed flowers.
"But why don't ye look at it that way - when was the last time we had a willing virgin sharing our bed?"
***
Angelus was right.
She shouldn't get upset about the lad's silly affection.
He obviously wasn't very popular with his family, nor did he have any close friends.
Oh yes, Angelus most definitely was right!
The annoying kid would be perfect for their purposes - especially with no-one to turn to afterwards!
***
"Ah, Master William! Lady Darla and meself were just wondering about yer whereabouts…"
"Ye were?"
A huge smile spread across the dark-haired boy's face.
Nobody usually worried about him, and it was a rather new, satisfying feeling.
"How can I be of service, Mister O'Sullivan?" William inquired eagerly, his big blue eyes lightening up by the mere though of being of help to his patron.
It was early evening, dinner had been served a little while ago and William had been hanging out close to Mister O'Sullivan's guest room, just in case his self-appointed lord might needed a hand.
It was a pleasant night.
The sky was bright and clear.
The crickets were chirping noisily, hidden in the depth of the grass.
He hadn't yet worked up the courage to ask Mister O'Sullivan about his plans - he just had to say yes!
After all, he obviously liked him…
And he, William Nicholas Campbell would do his very best to never let him down.
He'd be loyal to Mister O'Sullivan and worship and love him as long as he lived.
"Well, what do ye say, son?"
William's ears took on a brilliant shade of pink.
"Eh…, Sir…?"
He felt sick of embarrassment.
His Master had been talking to him, and he hadn't paid one ounce of attention.
He lowered his head and thoroughly started to investigate the tips of his shoes.
"Forgive me, Mister O'Sullivan…," the lad eventually stuttered in a low voice. "I…, I…, I guess, I wasn't really listening…"
He involuntarily tensed, readying himself for the inevitable blow.
Too often had his father used his fist or belt on William to prevent his boy's mind from wandering off.
However, when the big cold hand finally dropped to his shoulder, in a companionable not punishing way, the dark-haired boy almost burst into tears.
"Lady Darla and I were wondering if ye'd like to join us for a while - ye may want to read one of yer poems to us…"
"Thank ye, thank ye, Mister O'Sullivan, thank ye so much!"
With sweaty, trembling fingers William reached for the steady big hand.
"Thank ye…"
Overwhelmed by emotions, William buried his face in the icy strong hand.
He didn't see Liam's scowl of disgust.
Neither did he realize the enormous effort it took the older man to remain still instead of lashing out and beating some proper manners into the stupid little shit.
So he stood, quietly, waiting for the boy to regain his composure, all the while counting the seconds until he could give in to his primal urges and whip the venerating smile of the boy's red- rimmed blue eyes.
more to come