I'll Never Love You | By : JMB Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > Slash - Male/Male > Angel(us)/Xander > Angel(us)/Xander Views: 7892 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Prologue
The mansion’s gray art deco fireplace was alive, but its flame’s illumination barely filled the room I found Angel occupying. He was exposed by its light, his pale skin glowing. Our roles were reversed this time, because the shadows ruled where I stood, hiding me, giving me the false sense of being unseen, almost safe.
Angel hadn’t responded to my presence, he knew I was there. He was ignoring me and that was fine. I wasn’t ready to face him just yet and took this quiet time to look around the room.
I’d actually never been in this part of the mansion before—unbelievable, considering everything. There was no carpet on the gray marble floor and framed portraits hung from the white, black mottled walls, marred by thick layers of brown grim. To my left there was a varnished wood bookcase taller than me pushed against the wall filled to compasity with books. Plus the burgundy couch Angel was sitting on those few furnishing were all the décor this Spartan room had to offer.
I could smell the aged texts sitting on Angel’s bookshelves, easily discernible from the other odors hanging in the air. Like dust and the singe of burning wood emanating from the fireplace. For a second I was back in the Library flipping through one of Giles’ ancient tomes researching some rare demonic phenomenon.
After today I’ll never be researching for Giles again.
And it was all Angel’s fault!
Not so suddenly, my anger swelled and my gaze swung away from the bookcase and back onto Angel. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth then closed it. Expelling the unused breath through my nose. Going off wasn’t the answer.
I had to stay in control if I was going to have any chance at what I was hoping for.
Angel’s profile was to me his head was bowed so low his chin dug into the center of his broad chest. Angel’s arms were hanging lifelessly between his legs; he looked like sloppily propped up cadaver. And he wore all black, of course.
He stared at the blaze in front of him as if hypnotized. It reminded me of a story I heard once about the perils of gazing too long into a fire. Supposedly, it was a good way for a demon to steal your soul and drag it down to Hell.
"You just had to do it. You lying… You ruined everything," I finally said, my voice was just this side of a scream.
Angel ignored me.
"What in the hell made me trust you—a vampire? Everything you touch--"
Angel became a blur and had me slammed back against the wall, joining me in the shadows.
And gosh, this was happening a lot quicker than I though it would…
Angel’s hands were clamped over my shoulders. His thumbs were applying an awful amount of pressure to my collarbones; mashing muscle against bone. It hurt, but I didn’t cry out.
Fuck him.
Though I couldn’t really see his face I knew Angel was glaring down at me.
And he was so close I could smell him. Well, not Angel himself, but his clothes. His black, raw silk dress shirt had absorbed the burnt scent from the fire. It wasn’t an unpleasant aroma and I found myself lulled by it. Breathing him in deeper before I realized what I was doing.
Angel smelled like this that night…
"Shut up! I don't need to hear your mouth right now, Harris!" Angel says in a heavy, hushed tone of voice. Like someone just belted him one in the gut. "I've lost--"
"What? A girl you can never be with? Your precious salvation? Big deal! Willow won't look me anymore! And Buffy acts like-like I'm some whore who stole her one true love when the truth is I feel like puking every time I look at you!" I spat through tightly clenched teeth.
I felt my collarbones bend under Angel’s thumbs as he tightened his hands around my shoulders. Pain spider webbed from the points where his digits mashed into me radiating out to my neck, chest, and my back. I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a sharp gasp.
"Is that right? You really feel that way?" Angel leaned forward until his face was just an inch from mine. "Then why are you here, Harris? Huh? To christen my floors?"
I should have been scared shitless by the look in his eyes and the overtly threatening tone of his voice. But all I could think was I had him just where I wanted him. No, really, I did.
Angel tilted in farther and I felt his lips touch mine with just a molecule of his flesh. Almost not touching. His nearness was saturating my nostrils with that maddening scent of burning wood.
He wasn’t going to kiss me. He’s fucking with me. Trying to unnerve me, run me off.
But that wasn’t going to work this time.
"Actually," I whispered against his lips, "I came here to kill you."
Angel lowered his head until his Cro-Magnon-like forehead touched the bridge of my nose. He was looking down at the wooden stake I had pressed against his heart. Then he leaned back and I saw he had this weird, tight little smile on his face.
My brow furrowed in confusion as I searched Angel’s eyes. Eyes suddenly bright and resigned like… like… Then it hits me. Angel wanted this. He knew I'd come here to dust his sorry ass after he lied and confessed everything to Buffy.
Bowing my head I let the stake drop between us. It landed on one of his boots, rolled off and hit the floor with a repeating clatter. "I hate you."
"We established that a while ago, Harris."
"They were all I had," I said looking down at his boots. "Willow… Buffy and Giles… helping them was the only worth while thing I've ever done with my life. Probably the only worthy thing I will ever do with my life, and you took it away. You selfish bastard."
"Yeah, that's me. The selfish bastard." Angel released me. I raised my head and watched him slink back to his sofa and descend into another mope fiesta.
Oh, no you don't! You don't get to feel sorry for yourself!
Angel feeling remorseful, or depressed, or whatever passes for guilt in a vampire doesn’t mean shit! He’s too good at it. All he’s going to do is add what he’s done today to the countless other mini apocalypses he's created throughout his whole fucking existence.
And there's zip I can do about it.
I'm nothing to him—less than nothing. I could scream till I'm blue in the face. I could cry—except I don't cry—till my eyes were dried-up masses in my skull and it wouldn't mean a damn thing to Angel.
I wanted to hurt him. I wanted him to know what he did to me matters. And more than anything, I wanted revenge.
"Maybe… Maybe you liked what they made us do," I whisper, but Angel could hear me. And I didn’t have to elaborate. He knew damn well what I was talking about.
"Yeah, that’s it," I continued, my voice rising as I took a shine to this new needling I was going to repeatedly stab Angel with. "You probably broke it off with Buffy because something changed in you that night. Is that it Angel? Did you like how I felt under you?"
Angel said nothing and stared into the fire.
"Yeah, that’s definitely it. I think you had the best sex in your long un-life. How many times did my body make yours come off, Angel? I remember three," I cocked my head slightly to the side. "Buffy ever make you come like that?"
I finally elicited a growl from him with that Buffy crack. I couldn’t believe I said it either. But I was still dizzy. My jaw was sore and bruised. So I wasn’t having a lot of pro-Buffster feelings right then.
When that low rumble from his throat was all my remark got out of Angel I was surprised. I half expected him to have me against the wall again. But he just sat there.
"Yes? No? Maybe you wanna do it again?" I arched an eyebrow. "Maybe you want some more--"
"Shut up."
"Make me."
I smiled when I saw his chest expand then collapse as he inhaled and released a deep, ragged breath. It was especially satisfying because the fuck hadn’t needed to breathe in two hundred years and some change. I was getting to him.
I stepped away from the wall and slowly walked over to the vampire. Ignoring the tenderness in my shoulders and neck. My ratty sneakers whispered over the masonry floors.
"God, now that I think about it, you couldn’t have had too many sexual encounters over the past hundred years, huh?" I started counting the fingers of my left hand with my right forefinger.
"Let’s see… Buffy… Drusilla… and little ol’ me. Xander Harris…"
I ended up standing right in front of him.
My right forefinger bending back the middle finger on my left hand. I could feel the heat from the fire on my back. The orange cotton tee shirt and baggy blue jeans I was wearing started to get that just ironed feel against my skin.
"So, that’s three we know of for sure," I said holding up my hand, which I had manipulated into OK sign.
Angel gave no reply. He stared right through me like I wasn’t standing there blocking his creepy flirtation with the pyre.
"I was so hot and tight, wasn’t I?" I went on to say, lowering my hands down to my sides. "I bet you’ll be thinking about that for a long time. You sure you don’t wanna do it again? There’s nothing stopping us. You made sure of that."
Again silence. I guess he figured what I was up to. Not surprising. Angelus had been playing mind games long before my father’s, father’s, father was a gleam in his daddy’s eye.
I needed to change gears. I pondered my options for a bit, while I watched Angel silently. After a minute, I smiled, having decided on a tried and true method of getting to any vampire… even a vampire with a soul.
"Then again, maybe it's not something hot and tight you want," I said as I straddled Angel’s thighs. Folding my legs on the cushions on either side of his thighs and pressed my knees against his hips. I carefully kept my face neutral when I saw the stormy expressions that passed across his broad features all in the space of a second. First shock, then bewilderment, and lastly disgust. Or at least that’s how I translated the sneer twisting his lips.
I grabbed the front of his shirt, bunching the rough material in my fists and circled my face over Angel's. Grazing my lips over the heat soaked skin around his mouth, purposely avoiding his rather full and still crooked lips.
"How could I have missed it? It’s so obvious what you really want." I slowly lifted my chin and exposed my throat to him. "It's right in front of your lips… on the tip of your tongue… on the edge of your teeth. Is this what you want, Angel?"
"Stop it," Angel hissed. Man of few words, this guy is.
I curled my left arm behind Angel’s head and grabbed a handful of his dark, slightly greasy hair. I pulled his head forward and pressed his face into my neck.
"Why? All I'm doing is giving you every excuse to do what we both know you wanna do. Come on, Angel! You killed me in every other way, why stop at figuratively?
"So do it, Angel. Do it. Do it--"
I rose in one fluid motion from the couch and threw Xander to the ground. I saw his eyes roll out of focus after the back of his head bounced off the marble floor. He was barely conscious when I poured myself on top of him, my weight forcing what little oxygen left in his lungs out of him. I slid one of my legs between his and spread them apart with my knee before I fully settled my hips against Xander’s. Then I brought my right hand up to the top of his head and began raking my fingers through his dark hair, both my elbows resting on either side of his neck.
"I should, you know? Drain you dry," I told him, lazily running my fingers through his mussed up locks. "Save some demon a few seconds."
"Some other demon you mean," Xander managed to choke out. His eyes were closed as he shook his head trying to reorient himself.
"It’s not like anybody will miss a waste of space such as yourself. Especially now… not even Willow--"
"Shut your goddamn mouth about Willow!" Xander’s eyes snapped open, clear and glaring up at me. Kid can really focus when he wants to.
"What’s wrong, Harris? Can’t handle the simple truth of things?"
"Because of you! You didn’t have to lie, you didn’t have to say anything at all!"
"Oh, stop whining. It’s really not attractive."
"You… you… "
"Hey! Since when is it ‘Shut your expletive mouth about Willow’? All that passion, and here I thought Cordelia was the sugar in your coffee cup? Or does that honor still belong to Buffy?" I asked looking away from his eyes to my fingers in his hair. I wondered why he hadn’t demanded I stop, or turn his head away. Maybe he knew neither would do him any good. He had really soft hair despite his total lack of conditioning.
"You don’t know anything about me."
"Don’t I? I know you make the cutest little squeal when you--"
"Get off," Xander said pushing at my shoulders.
"But, Xander, you were begging for it, remember, not too long ago?"
I ran my free hand down Xander’s cloth-covered torso to his waist. Xander reflexively arched his side away from the caress, but the weighty cage my body made didn’t give him any place to retreat to. I gripped his hip and pulled his groin up to mine.
I watched Xander’s eyes widen when he realized I was hard. His fists were clutching the material of my shirt now as he pushed harder on my shoulders while my stiff, yet inanimate erection ground into him. I kept running my fingers through his hair and smiled thinly at his desperation.
"What did you expect, Xander? You got me all worked up."
"B-but you’re not…"
"What, gay? Well, no, but I have to say sex with you wasn’t all that bad." I leaned down and brushed my mouth along the outer rim of Xander’s ear. "The answer’s yes."
When I pulled back and saw his confusion I let my smile grow toothy.
"Remember? You asked me if I wanted to do it again. The answer is yes."
I leaned down to kiss him and Xander turned his head away. I had a great view of the purplish bruise branded into his jaw and half his cheek.
"Did Buffy give you that? Did she touch you here?" I asked. "When she touches you, even if it’s with a fist, it's the only time you feel worth anything, isn't it? The only time you feel like you aren't the piece of worthless flotsam you are. You know it's true, Harris. You know how I know? I feel the same way."
Xander remained silent and kept trying to shimmy out from under me. I lowered my mouth flicked out my tongue, licking over the discolored flesh. Almost tasting the blood swollen and trapped in his contusion. Xander went still and hissed.
"Oh, God," he groaned.
"Sorry," I apologized with a honeyed voice, my mouth still against his cheek then I ran my tongue over the bruise again.
Then out of the blue, Xander starts laughing. I lifted up again and he turned and faced me, his head thrown back slightly as he laughed at me. Xander wasn’t trying to bullshit to hide his fear, I knew because he no longer gave off that sweet-musky odor of terror I scented on him moments before.
"Oh, wow!" Xander shimmered down his brown eyes twinkling as he looked up at me. "You sounded like Angelus there for a second, Angel. Is there something you want to tell me? Did I make you happy or something?"
I stared down at Xander, wondering how the hell I lost control of the situation and when I stopped scaring the little bastard beneath me.
Xander’s face took on a more bemused air, he sighed heavily and asked, "You can control it, can’t you?"
I continued to stare at him not entirely sure what he was getting at. Xander smirked and I saw his eyes look downward. "Your hard-on,” his gaze returning to mine, “you can make yourself get an erection at will. I mean it has to take something of a conscious effort, right? You don’t have a heartbeat, right?"
Shit, the one time the punk shows some intelligence…
"I know there’re chemicals involved to keep and lose one but you still need a heartbeat to get the blood there," Xander said sounding like he was participating in some kind of academic discussion.
Angel lifted off me and I laughed again. The vampire slumped back onto the couch as I hoisted my back up from the floor and propped myself up with my elbows and forearms. I couldn’t stop grinning. "I knew my curiosity about Viagra would come in handy one day. And Wills called me a horn dog."
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