Title: Lion and the Lamb
Author: Inca
Feedback: Giving me purpose at [email protected]
Rating NC21 – m/m sex. Blasphemy.
Angelus/William
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, I just like to play with them
Spoilers: None. AU
Summary: Angelus has been posing as a Priest, indulging himself in an abuse of Religion. Everything for him changes though, when one of his Victorian Flock; a young man named William, catches his eye
Authors notes: For more stories by me, come to http://www.geocities.com/slasherphiles/ , slashing 24/6...

Blasphemy. A lot of it. Please don’t read this if you are offended by such things. I’m not talking about swearing, … although that’s in there too.
Am not a Catholic, I tried to do research but a lot of what I found contradicted other things so don’t email telling me I’ve gotten something wrong. I don’t really care.

Fiction inspired by FG’s challenge #127, posted on the Forging Ghost message board on Tuesday Aug 42, 04.
Name inspired by the only bible quote I really remember, cause it always sounded so pretty to me as a child. ‘The Lamb shall lie down beside the Lion.’
Written as part of the FG birthday ficathon.

St Andrew’s Cathedral does not exist. Well it does, in
Sydney, but this is set in London so it is fictional.


Finally. Happy Birthday FG! Mwah!





***


The Lamb shall lie down beside the Lion - Revelation 5:13.


***




“Ah, Sister … working late?”

The young woman turned from the towering plated window she was scrubbing, jumping at the sudden presence. She had believed herself to be alone.

“Yes Father.” Laurell breathed in relief. “And you as well, I see.”

The young priest leant against the side of a wooden pew. He had approached quietly, as he tended to do, and he stood with a cockiness that was rare in their work. His collar was pristine in the candlelight; the white matched the gleam across his teeth as he smiled at her.

“Aye, yes. No rest, eh?”

“Why do you visit?” she asked, making conversation.

“To see the candles burn. Hear the mice squeak within the walls, make sure the moon still shines.” His handsome face grinned at the window. “It does. Always. Some things never change.” He turned his face to her. “It’s nice to know.”

She smiled shyly and turned back to the stained glass. She was not used to the man, or his strange sense of humour yet. The priest had arrived at St Andrew’s Cathedral only a month ago, after the disappearance of Father Asbury. The new Father had come in their hour of need, parishioners and clergy alike, had been disappearing the way of Father Asbury- no trace of them. But Father Angelus had stood strong, and Laurell firmly believed that his light would lead them from this darkness.

She finished cleaning St-Vallier and moved onto the next window. The Father followed her, resting again against the pew closest to her work.

“When did ye join the sisterhood, Laurell?” He asked suddenly, his deep voice making Laurell tremor pleasantly.

“Five years ago, when I was one and twenty” She answered, respectfully, not straying from her work.

“Hmmm.” He said, now very close to her. He leant over her shoulder, seemingly inspecting her work. She watched his face, narrow with concentration. A pink tongue darted out and licked the corner of his mouth.
Laurell averted her eyes.

“Do ye like it?”

“Sisterhood? I work for God. It is a worthy, but humble life. I…” She was unsure what to say. “I carry out God’s wishes.”

His fingers reached up and stroked along the material of her robe, just over her shoulders.

“I am a man close to God.” He murmured in her ear. “Would ye carry out mine?”

She felt his large hands close around her shoulders and begin to squeeze gently, his thumbs rubbing circles into her tired back. He smelled like honeysuckle, and a heavy metallic smell carried on his words, covered by mint.

She turned in his arms, hearing the reminder of her rosary clink against her chest and hating it with a ferocity her confines had never made her feel before. She forgot her vows as she looked up into his face, confident and handsome. Deep brown eyes and the straight lines of his nose and brows and mouth, the dip and shadow underneath the set bottom lip was darker in the candlelight than she remembered. A smile played across the face, his eyes filled with hunger for her, making her stomach expand and her body thrum with a lust she’d tried to keep locked away. Her eyes welled with want and lust as she fell captivated.

“Take off your cross.” He said.

Laurell glanced down. “Fath…”

He stepped forward and pressed his lips against hers, her mouth filling with a coolness she didn’t expect. He broke away and she reached up grabbing her rosary, yanking her fist down to break the beads, causing them to scatter and plink across the cold tiled floor. He smiled broadly. Laurell felt herself pushed against a table, her body knocking off candles and chalices as her back came in contact with the wood. He stood, and flipped her robes up over her waist, the cold air freezing her skin. She looked over the rows of empty polished pews as his hand found its way between her legs. This was peace. Desire. She closed her eyes as his mouth washed her thighs with kisses and –

-PAIN-

Her eyes snapped open at the sharp needling pain in her flesh and she looked down to lock gaze with two golden eyes. Bloody fangs smiled a predator’s smile at her from above matching bloody holes in her thigh.
Laurell felt her bowels release.
He stood and chuckled as she pedalled backwards, falling off the table, her hands rolling on the beads of her broken rosary.

“Devil…” She whispered, trying to yell, her throat filling with salt water. This couldn’t be. Not a priest! She crawled desperately across the floor, her leg throbbing.

“Yes. And you…” He kicked the beads away, “having just turned ye back on the Almighty. What ever shall you do?”

She shook her head; her cheeks wet as she crawled like an infant away from him. He jumped on her and rolled her over, laughing at her, shaking his horrible disfigured face like a victim of possession.

“No!”

“Yes!”

He kissed her, his fangs scraping her lips to shreds.

“It’s known as a test of faith.” He leant down to whisper in her ear. “You failed. Now you shall burn.”

Laurell cried soundlessly at the words, lost in her mind as Satan himself ripped his teeth into her and tossed her maniacally into darkness.




***


“Gone?” the balding clergyman asked.

“Yes. Our Laurell was a free spirit. She wanted different than
London could offer, so I sent her to Our Lady’s in Drogheda.” Angelus informed him in a bored tone. His eyes slid mischievously to the place of Sister Laurell’s defilement. A smile slipped onto his face. “She’ll be happy there.” He strode into his rectory.

Robert, a short fat assistant rector, who scurried around the church like he had a purpose, hastened after the tall man.

“Are you sure that was wise father.” He stuttered, “with all the recent … disappearances … our parish has suffered? The mass attendance do like to see a … familiar face.”

“My parishioners will be fine.” Angelus said, smugly putting emphasis on the possessive, and motioning to the door. Robert took the hint.

Angelus looked out the window to the dark courtyard. The well-tended gardens were boring in their simplicity. Angelus needed a new entertainment now that his latest activity had ended. Laurell was a dish taken in its prime, but still, his girl was too easy. Angelus snorted. He needed something different.

He always needed something different.

He and Darla had parted ways about five weeks ago, and Angelus, remembering the fun he’d taken with Drusilla in her parish, had killed the reigning Father and appeared to take his place. He had scared an elderly priest into vouching for him and then had him meet with a terrible accident.

Angelus sighed and left the office walking down the narrow, high ceiling-ed corridor to the main hall. St Andrew’s was a grand tribute to religious decadence, which suited Angelus nicely. The main hall where all the churchgoers sat was wide and spacious; the floor lined with mosaic pictures and the walls with statues between the beautifully depicted Saints in the windows. The ceiling portrayed Christ and his disciples. A large Crucifix holding up a pained Jesus covered the wall behind where the priest stood to speak to the parish. Angelus had attended enough church in his own time to make the few appearances he put in, believable, and most of the people in the church did not question his late hours or strange requests.

He was, in their minds, a High Priest.

He sat down on one of the front pews, slumped down until the back of his head rested against the wood. His eyes surveyed the empty church, and listened intently for any sounds of life. He heard none. It was the ninth hour of night, so no wayward parishioners should be arriving. His eyes rested on the Saints in the windows, staring down with fiery condemnation in their eyes. He remembered the previous night, and pondered the Saints watching him as he worked. The things they would have seen. He smiled and poked his tongue out. Ah, Laurell. She was weak. Much too effortless. Not a lasting investment. He wondered slyly if God would forgive her after what she had done. He hoped not. If someone finally killed the Scourge one day, he wished to meet her again in Damnation. Fill her in on all the things he had done to her lifeless body under the eyes of God, after she had slipped into the ether.

His eyes strayed over a long bead, forgotten and abandoned on the floor under the table. Angelus immediately hardened at the short summation of Laurell and her desolate end. He closed his eyes to remember her screams and dragged his heavy robes up. Her eyes as she cried, praying to the Jesus he sat in front of. His cool hand wrapped deftly around and began stroking as he squirmed around on the hard wood. He opened his eyes and locked them with the pained Christ, eyes smug as he performed for the God he had bettered last night. He had defiled his creation in his house, under his eyes, and the Almighty was powerless to stop him. He groaned at the thought.

“Hello?”

Angelus whipped his robes down and turned towards the intruder coming through the Church’s large doors. It was a man, a boy, voice cautiously echoing into the church. He had not seen Angelus.

“Hello? Father Asbury?”

Angelus stood, still agonisingly hard, thankful his robes weighed down on his erection and walked towards the voice. The man was looking in the back of the church, looking through a doorway to the courtyard, his back to Angelus. He was shorter than the vampire, maybe by half a head or more. He was wearing a travelling cloak, and his red-brown curls were in disarray.

“My Child?”

The man turned and Angelus’ eyes widened in wonder.
The loose curls of the boy’s hair fell down around blue eyes. Bright blue, blue the colour of blue jay feathers. His cheekbones were high, his skin the colour of fine china. Pink lips rested in a slight pout. A collared shirt cut a v around his throat, running along the collarbones and a lilac satin vest slipped over his lithe frame.

He was stunning.

His dark eyebrows formed a frown upon seeing Angelus.

“Father.” He said hesitantly, his voice deep and calm, his inflection causing a stir in Angelus’ stomach.

“How can I help?” Angelus managed to get out.

“I’m looking for Father Asbury?” He said, his stance shy and humble. His eyes glanced only quickly at Angelus’ face, jumping from his eyes to something within the church, back to his face. Knowing his place before the other man. 

“You’re new?” Angelus said, ignoring the question for the moment.

The man smiled, and Angelus’ demon growled from within, he felt himself innately checking for witnesses, anyone who might see him grab the young seraph and drag him away.

“No. I’ve been with
St Andrews since I was baptised. I have been visiting my cousin. She had not been well.” Angelus made a moue of sadness. “I only arrived a few hours ago. I thought I would pay a visit. Informing all I am back. Is Father Asbury here today?”

“Alas, no. He is not.” Angelus said, trying to affect worry but probably failing. He was much too excited by the boy in front of him. “What is your name?”

“William.”

“Ah, lovely.”

“Yes, do you know when he will be back?”

“No. No one knows where he is.”

William looked concerned. “ What? What do you mean?”

Angelus drew his eyes away from the beautiful concerned frown on the boy’s face. “Vanished. Four weeks next Thursday.”

William’s mouth fell open in shock, exposing his teeth and tongue to the vampire, who memorised the details greedily. Angelus wanted to kiss him, to own the perfect mouth and fuck it with his tongue. The urge was so strong he physically created distance between them by taking a step back, to compose himself. William was glancing around frantically, his expression caught between worry and shock.

“I took his place in the rector as relief. I was visiting
London.” Angelus said, turning the conversation to himself. He was enraptured by the man and was starting to feel a slight resent that he was not placed as highly in the boy’s thoughts.

“No one knows where he is?”

Angelus, sick of the boys’ worry, as pretty as it made him, lied. “We believe he is visiting a parish in the
Americas. But have had no conformation, which is why I said he has vanished.”

The boy thought about this. “He had said he would like to visit another parish.”

“Aye, we believe he is there. But I wait for a letter. He and I were friends. I had arrived to visit him in
London.”

William was staring at the floor. For a few moments he didn’t do or say anything, but suddenly, he animated.

“How very fortunate you were around, Father…”

“Angelus.” He supplied.

“Angelus. Like the bell?”

“Yes. I was born while the evening Angelus rang. Or so I’m told.” He smiled to himself.

Will lifted his eyebrows in a polite contemplation of this random fact. “Well.” He said after a moment. “I should…”

Angelus interrupted him by scooping the boy’s hands into his own, and drawing them back against his robed sternum. William’s eyes widened at the inappropriate contact.

“William. I hope you will place your full faith in me. Trust me to … show you the way.”

The man seemed a bit lost for words. “Uh… yes… Father.”

Angelus gave the warm thin hands a tight squeeze. To his delight, William looked him in the eyes and then couldn’t seem to look away. His face devoid of expression, he blinked slowly, eyelashes sweeping down and then back up. The world slowed for a second, like swimming through honey, then sped to normal. Angelus, happy he had made a lasting impression on the lad, let the hands go suddenly.

“Will you be conducting mass Father?”

Angelus nodded. Yes, If this charming creature would be there.

“I will see you again then. Then.” Will stuttered as he backed out of the hall. Angelus watched him steadily. He backed up against the large entry doors and pushed one open clumsily, disappearing out into the
London crowds.

Angelus licked his lips.


***


Angelus sat in his apartments, recklessly drawing picture after picture. Dozens of pictures lay about the chair in which he sat. The armrests were covered in lead and charcoal.

He had followed his new obsession around since nightfall every night since they met.  Tonight, he had tracked him through the grimy streets of
London as he ran errands, picking up clothes from the haberdasher, stopping in at a bookbinder. Angelus had watched him with a practised ease, William never once picked up on the twin eyes boring into him, memorising every hair and crinkle of his face. He watched from a shop window as the boy had bought and licked an iced lolly in Hyde Park, setting his packages between his feet as he sat on a park bench watching people go by with a small smile. Angelus had watched captivated as the pink tongue poked out again and again, licking around the ice. After, he had followed him home and waited on the roof of the building across the lane for William to go to bed. William had come in and meandered about his room for a while, pulling books of the shelves and writing things down on scraps of paper. He’d disappeared for six minutes and twenty-three seconds before returning dressed in a large nightshirt. He’s looked at himself in the mirror for a while, turning his head from side to side before brushing his hair back and lying down on his bed, on his side, and pulling the covers up to his chin. An hour and seven seconds later he rolled onto his other side.

Now Angelus was frantically documenting his findings on paper, paying close attention to the tongue of ice-lolly fame and the peaceful sleeping face through the window. He also created a few images of his own. Including an Angelus eye view of William on he knees, hands around the vampires cock, a look of shy longing on his face.

He ripped the latest picture of his pad and began sketching a new picture.


***

Two evenings later, Angelus stood before the flock of
St Andrews, giving a speech that included many quotes from the bible, and that sounded strong and purist and condemning to the weak but didn’t really mean much at all.

The congregation lapped it up. He searched the crowd for a certain blue eyed cherub. He spotted him, sitting next to a decrepit old crone, third row centre on the left side, and spent the remainder of his time throwing subtle glances at the boy and feeling flickers of heat every time their eyes met.


Afterwards, he sought the boy out.

“Ah Father! Moving sermon, I must say!” the old woman by his side said, her face shining with admiration as she gripped onto William’s arm.

Angelus looked pointedly at the man.

“Ah, yes. Very … stirring.”

Angelus raised his eyebrows at that as a flush crept up William’s neck and coloured his cheeks. The boy was dressed in his church best, another stiff white collared shirt covered mostly by a fine blue and gold woven silk vest that turned his eyes to a clear sky. A dark brown coat draped over his shoulders, the texture seemed like moleskin, and his boots shined. Angelus approved. Every time he had seen him, the boy had worn things that pleased the touch.
His boy was a sensualist.
He smiled at the idea, looking into William’s eyes.  A strange expression flickered across his face and then he looked at the woman and back at Angelus. The vampire realised the woman was waiting for a response of some kind.

“I’m sorry?”

“Will you be taking confession?” She croaked. William looked away, the red brown strands of his hair creating a curtain over his eyes.

“Select days.”

“I ask because my William has been gone from me for almost two months.” She leant closer. “My relatives are not as avid churchgoers as we.”

Angelus snuck a look at William and couldn’t stifle a smile at the hag’s protectiveness. William flushed again and looked towards the door.

“I’ll see you in a half hour.” He stated, not a question.

“Oh, well, if it is too much trouble…”

“None at all. You must feel comfortable with me.” He smiled winningly.

William’s mother beamed as her son stared at his feet. “Take me home Will, and then return for your confession.” She patted his hand and his risked a quick glance at the vampire, bright eyes flashing with some emotion he couldn’t define.

“Soon, William.” He said.

The woman turned, still gripping her son’s arm as she made unsteady steps towards the door.


*

“Father?” Robert poked his nose round the door.

Angelus looked up from his sketch. He was resting in his chambers, to the side of the main hall.

“William is back for confession. He asked for you, but would you like me to –“

“No, its fine. Here.” He picked some books up off the table and pushed them into the short mans arms. “Write your Sunday mass.”

Robert left and Angelus walked the short hall to the main area. He stopped as he entered, smiling and cocking his head to one side. He fingered his collar. One of the sister’s had lit the candles filling the room with a light heat and illuminating the area. He became motionless and lax.

Waves of warmth beat against his face and he focused on the slight ‘huph’ of William’s breath as he waited in the booth across the wide room. A ‘scritch’ sound joined his breath and Angelus guessed he was picking at the seat or his clothing. His boy always seemed to be in motion. He could smell a gentle flowery scent of soap and clean hair.
He silently made his way to the booth and stepped inside.

“Hello my child.” He said, grinning at the gasp he knew he would receive for his stealthy arrival. He looked through the decorated, holed partition that separated the two dim booths, the white of the boys face making an easy background for dark eyes and dark pink lips.

“Father forgive me. I have sinned.”

Angelus knew this routine from his time on the other side of the partition.

“You have a sin to confess?”

“Yes. I had … impure thoughts about a woman.”

“Go on.” He almost purred. He wanted to tell William all the impure thoughts his mind had been creating since they met. He smiled. Maybe not. The better part of valour is discretion; in the which better part he would save his obsession.

“I dreamt of her. Have … before that as well. More than once.”

“Aye. Indeed. Do you know this woman?”

“Yes. We have met.”

“Her name?”

“Father?”

“Her name, William.” He said again, stronger.

“Cecily.” He spoke quietly, his embarrassment sweetened the air.

“And what are these dreams about. What happens?”

“Oh I could n-“

“You can and shall William.” He ordered.

“I kissed her. And touched her.”

Angelus stifled a giggle. “Where?”

William took a sharp breath in. “ In … immodest areas.”

“How old are ye, William?”

“Two on twenty.”

“Aye. And have you ever… been with a woman?”

“No, Father.” Angelus was pleased. He had thought William would be a virgin. He smelled like one.

“Have you kissed a woman.”

The boy was silent for a moment. “No Father.”

Angelus grinned, his teeth shiny in the dark booth. “So you’re pure of body?”

“… Yes Father.”

“Good.” He said lewdly, his voice coming out in a purr.

“Sorry?”

“It is good that ye have not given over to temptation.” Angelus tried to cover.

“But I am tempted when I dream.”

Angelus shook his head. “Of course. Yes. How long have you known this … Cecily?”

“Since I was a young boy.”

Angelus decided to toy with him.

“And you think it fit to objectify her for your carnal lusts?”

“I… no!”

“But yet you have impure thoughts about her.” He prodded.

“Yes, but… I … love her.” He stumbled over the words.

Cold calculated jealousy welled up in Angelus’ stomach.

“Have you told her such?”

“I have hinted.”

“Then she does not feel for you. Anyhow, if your mind has already cornered her into being an item of lust, you could not possibly be together.”

William’s mouth dropped. “But, why?”

“It is against God’s plan. It is not pure. You do not feel such things for someone you love.”

“No, I –“

“You defy me?” Angelus asked, enraged at the boy.

The booth went silent. “No Father. I wouldn’t dream of that.”

“Hmmm, yes. You only dream of exercises in debauchery.”

William coughed.

“It is in God’s plan that you do not see this girl again. Otherwise your desires will build until you cannot control yourself. You would not wish to take her… by force, would you?” he asked slyly.

“NO!”

“Then stay away, dear William. There is no other way.”

“Father?”

“Oh yes William, I have seen this situation many times. It always ends like that. Even with harmless lads like yourself. Men are not meant to be denied.”

William became silent again. Angelus looked through the partition. The boy looked crushed.

“Ye may go.”

“Father?”

“Aye?”

“My punishment.” He looked towards the partition, confused.

“There is none.”

“Excuse me?”

“As a man of God I hold the power to absolve your sins. Which I do.”

“Uh…” he mumbled, shocked. “Thankyou.”

He stayed in the booth still.

“Yes?”

“I’ve well… never heard of a priest …”

“Most priests choose not to absolve their flock.”

“Oh.” He stayed. “Is there a reason?”

Angelus smiled, the boy played guilelessly into his hands. “Yes, indeed. They don’t care enough.”

“Father?”

“Oh yes. It’s a downfall in many. See we, as priests, are a chaste and righteous kind. To absolve a sin you must take it upon your own shoulders, and being pure, I can carry a sin, that though a burden to you, is quite easily carried by myself.” He looked at his nails, wondering if his boy was naïve enough to accept this lie.

“Thankyou Father.” He said, sounding deeply touched. Apparently he was.

“Accepted. But you do acknowledge, no others would do this for you.”

“Yes. You are right.”

“Good. Trust me William. I am your light.”

“My light.” The boy repeated.



***



“I dreamt of her again last night, Father.” William said through the partition. “I miss her terribly.”

“It will ease my son. How long has it been since you last saw this temptress?”

Angelus was sitting in his side of the confession booth drawing a picture of the man on the other side.

“Three weeks.”

Angelus had ordered the boy come in for a private confession almost everyday. Angelus lied to him about Cicily and William’s friends, gave bad advice to the boy – trying to separate him from his loved ones. That way there would be only Angelus in his life. He was trying to get the boy to admit he didn’t like spending all his time looking after his mother, to break that tie, but had not succeeded at the just yet.

“It is a good thing my son. She flaunts her lovers over
London. She mocks God’s beliefs.”

“You are the only one who tells me the truth.”

“Other people will only lie to you, William.”

“Yes. I would not have been happy with her.”

“Oh you are right my son, she would have been unfaithful in a moment. Women do. Especially to men like yourself.”

William nodded. It was quite easy to undermine his confidence with others, then, when Angelus complimented him on his character or his mind, the words meant so much more. This had the added effect of William wanting to believe him, so whatever he told him, became scribed in stone. He was willing to do anything for the vampire. Which was exactly what he wanted.

“Your friend Mark may have been the one to cuckold you. Women seem drawn to him.”

“Yes. They do. Have you seen Mark?”

He had. Mark had been William’s best friend. He had tortured him to death about ten days ago, gleaning every bit of knowledge the scared boy had of his friend. He knew everything about William now, down to his favourite chocolate.

“I saw you talking to him on the street, maybe, ten days ago?”

William looked guilty. Angelus had been stalking the pair and had overheard Mark tell William that it was not necessary to spend all this time with Angelus. That he didn’t even really know the man. William had, to Angelus’ anger, thought this over. That had been the nail in Mark’s coffin.

“Is he missing?”

“Well, maybe not missing. I have just not seen him.”

“I was afraid of this.” Angelus tutted.

“What, Father?”

“He came to me, for confession. He mentioned he would like to travel, to leave without a moment’s notice. I told him that was selfish to his friends, but he believed it wasn’t.” he worked on his sketch, adding a few more thick dark eyelashes.

“But… Mark never said anything to me about that.” He said, shocked.

“Why would he?” Angelus asked smugly, carefully chipping away at the boy a little more.

“So William, forget about that. What happened in this dream? About Cicily?” brusquely changing the subject as not to depress the boy.

“We were at a ball.” He stuttered.

“And?”

“And we found an empty room. And … she removed her, her dress and…”

“And? Did you commit the sin of fornication?”

“No, I woke up.”

Angelus snorted and covered the sound by pretending to cough.

“But when I woke…” He trailed off.

Angelus perked up. “You were wet?”

“Yes.”

He put his sketch aside and leant closer to the man. “Do you know what that means?”

“No.”

“Were you educated by a man, William?”

“No, my mother.”

Angelus doubted she would’ve told him the reason. That meant he could lie. “That is your body trying to purge the Devil’s thoughts from you.”

Which was actually what Angelus himself had been told as a lad.

“Devils?” He asked alarmed.

“Yes. Satan is the one who makes you think these impure thoughts.” He said matter-of-factly. He watched in glee as the boy’s face covered with shock.

“Whenever that has happed, you have sinned, you have been weak and off guard as you slept, welcoming the Morning Star into your body.”

Which is also what Angelus had been told as a child. William was worried, shaking his head, making his red brown strands bounce against his temples.

“What should I do, Father?”

“If it happens while you sleep tonight, you must tell me all. There may be a problem.” He said. “Go, my child. You are absolved as always, by only
me.

“Thankyou Father.”

Angelus paid a visit to William’s mother gaining a welcome into their home, and then stopped at a witchdoctor to acquire something called Calynthia powder. He hoped Darla had not lied about its potency.


**


William’s room was on the second story of a narrow crowded house. Angelus found his room and slipped in through the window. He was not wearing his preacher’s clothes, as he wanted to go out for some food later. He had a vague premonition there would be much blood. He was dressed in black. Black vest with gold threading over a black shirt and pants.

The small room contained a narrow bed, a desk and bookshelf. Books of poetry seemed to be William’s poison, they fell out of the shelves and there were scraps of badly written poems all over the floor. William slept as Angelus quietly looked around. His sheet was wrapped right up to his chin as he slumbered on his side. Angelus threw some of the purple powder over William, watching it disappear into his skin. He had to test it. He placed his hand over William’s eyes so if he woke he would not see his attacker and slapped the boy, hard, across the cheek.

The boy slept on.

Angelus slapped him again just because he had enjoyed hitting him and then settled down to his work. A band of moonlight slanted over the boy’s face, starting at the corner of his lips and continuing over his closed eye and his hair onto the wall. The vampire watched as the man made a snuffling sound and rolled his head a little, lost in dreaming. Angelus reached into his dark pants and stroked himself for a moment.

“William.” He said. The witchdoctor had been a big fan of the powder. Apparently, people could hear you, and you could incorporate things into their dreams, but they would not wake until their usual hour.

“William.” He said again. The boy murmured.

“You’re beautiful William. Your face is a masterpiece from the Gods.”

He pulled the sheet down. William was wearing sleeping clothes, an oversized nightshirt. Angelus smiled wickedly and sat the boy up, pulling the shirt over his head. The boy fell back down as Angelus feasted on the sight. Lean, ropy muscles covered his body, his chest pale, studded with two brown nipples. Angelus had made a bet with himself that William would have brown nipples, and of a smaller shape. He smiled at himself, reaching down to rub his thumbs across the nubs. William’s stomach was not muscled, just flat and smooth, and hair dusted over his chest, thicker down below his navel. His cock was long and thin, resting over his darker skinned sac. His legs were thinly muscled also, calves defined under short hair. Blonde hair on his thighs was picked up in the moonlight, feeling soft and downy under the vampire’s fingers. Angelus roamed his hands over the boy, pinching and grabbing and massaging. The boy was his. His boy. He played with the displayed sac and William’s cock started to rise.

“William. You’re mine. Ye belong to me.”

William’s breathing became heavier as Angelus pulled at the wiry hairs covering his crotch. He smelled like rosewater.

“I’m going to take ye William. Thrust my cock inside you and own this body. Mine.”

He started jerking the cock that was bobbing happily around.

“Fuck you. I’ll fuck you till ye bleed, you’ll scream my name until you have no breath, and then I’ll make you suck my cock until your eyes roll back from the effort.”

William’s body was squirming in time to the thrusts, a small smile covering his face. Angelus leaned down to breath in the air the boy was huffing out.

“And you’ll love it. You’ll be my whore and you’ll love it. You’ll come for more. You’ll yearn at my feet.”

The boy whimpered, arching his back, pushing his cock into the large hand. Angelus pulled up the sheets as the boy came with a moan, covering the cloth. He wiped his hand on the bed and then undid his pants. He pulled back the sheets again and jerked himself frantically over the sleeping form. He reached down with one hand and twisted one of the brown nipples causing a little whimper of pain. He lifted one of the boy’s legs pulling him up off the bed and turned him over. He toyed with the idea of fucking him while he was unconscious – taking him while he slept, and enjoyable as that would be, he decided he wanted William awake. The first time at least.

He bent the boy so he was lying on his face and knees and put his cock along the boy’s hole, pushing the cheeks around himself. He fucked the sleeping boy like this until he felt himself coming and flipped him on his back, spraying his come over the boys own on his stomach and up, spurting onto his chest and face, making sure to discharge some onto the pink lips. He groaned as the spatter of white made a pattern over the boy’s mouth. He stepped back and admired his masterpiece, committing every detail to memory so he could draw it later, immortalise the moment, and then flipped the blanket back up.

He left the room with the nightshirt, taking it home to keep as a prize.



***



William slipped into the evening mass very late. He was dressed only in a white collared shirt and pants. Both were rumpled. He didn’t look at Angelus at all, preferring to focus on his prayer book.

“Many people do not believe in forgiveness,” Angelus shouted. “But the lord does. And he forgives through other men.”

William’s eyes raised a little.

“No matter the sin, if you believe in God’s forgiveness he shalt bless you with it.”

He scanned the crowd. “You there!” He said, pointing to a woman in her later thirties.

“Yes?” She answered. Canes were propped by her side.

“Do you believe in forgiveness?”

The church murmured at this unorthodox method.

“Oh yes Father, I believ’t!”

“Have you sinned?”

She looked down, shamed. “Yes. I, when I was youngah… I stole money from men who came to my Da’s store.”

The parish murmurs rose in volume.

“Hush!” Angelus commanded.

Silence reined. The vampire surveyed the crowd.
 
“God punished me by taking away the full use of my legs.” Her sad voice echoed through the quiet hall. Angelus looked at Will, who was staring fretfully at the woman.

“I see.” Said Angelus, playing to the congregation. “And do you seek forgiveness?”

“If the Lord sees fit to grant it, Father? And only then.” She said, nodding with respect.

“I, as God’s hands on this earth, I see you fit to grant absolution. Come to me child.”

The woman jerkily stood, propping herself up with her two canes.

“Walk before me.”

She did, standing in front of the vampire while the parish whispered and mumbled. He bent and kissed her lips abruptly; smiling inwardly at the gasps that echoed through the church and pulled back.

“God forgives you. Because I do.”

He pulled the canes away and she stood. She looked around in amazement. “My legs!”

“Go, my child.”

She hesitantly began walking, then quickened her pace until she ran hooting and hollering from the church. Angelus found his William in the crowd, blue eyes huge in his face. William felt the hot gaze on him and looked back at the vampire. Angelus smiled.


After the last of the crowd was left he paid the actor twice what they had agreed on. She was very believable.


**

William was waiting outside his rooms in the church.

“Father…” he began, face worried.

Angelus interrupted. “It happened again, didn’t it?”

The boy nodded, seriously. “Yes. I woke up and I was wet all over. Even on my … my face.” Angelus stifled a groan and felt his cock shoot up. This boy was too much.

Angelus opened the door and ushered his boy through. The room was crowded and lit by candles, burning the air to make it warm and inviting.

“And when I woke I was…” William stammered as soon as the door closed.

“Yes?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I was naked.”

Angelus had a flash of the prone nude body lying vulnerable on his bed in the moonlight, shifted by the vampires curious hands.

“And you weren’t when you went to bed?” He asked.

“No.”

“Ah. The devil is making you do things in your sleep. Who did you dream of? Cecily?”

He looked at the ground, his hair falling over his face.

“William. I cannot help you if you don’t tell me everything.”

The boy looked out onto the courtyard for a long while. “A man.”

Angelus raised his eyebrows. “I see.” He said slowly.

William looked as if he was going to cry.

“Who was he?”

William glanced at Angelus quickly and looked away. “No one. I mean. I haven’t seen him before.”

Angelus smiled at the bad lie. “Was he an incarnation of the devil, do ye think?”

William wide eyed shook his head. “No! At least … I don’t think so.”

“But you did nay know him?”

William was quiet. Angelus let the point rest. “What did you do with this man?”

“Acts.”

“Sexual acts?”

William looked pained. “Oh Father, I cannot …”

“William! If you want to go with the devil I cannot stop you.” Angelus’ eyes flashed, tired of the boy’s reluctance to play his game.

“No!” He said quickly. “It was just very…” He closed his eyes, his mouth thinned in humiliation.

“There is no need to be embarrassed, child. I am your saviour on earth.”

William smiled weakly. “He touched me.”

“Where?”

“Immodest areas.” He stared at the wall.

Angelus kept a straight face.  “Your manhood? Did he touch –“

“Yes.”  William cut in.

“How?” asked Angelus, pushing the lad further into embarrassment.

William slumped into a chair and looked at the ceiling for a change. “He stroked me.”

“Did you like it? Did you feel pleasure?” Angelus asked, coming closer.

William looked everywhere in the room but at Angelus.

“William.”

“It felt…” he closed his eyes in shame. “Very good.”

Angelus put his hand on the man’s shoulder, and watched as William stared at it, knowing this was the hand that pleasured William in his dream.

“Do you believe yourself to be a sodomite then?”

William looked up, his eyes wide with shock at the question. “No! I mean, no, I don’t know.”

“There are ways to test such things, If you place ye faith in God.”

He looked very serious and stood up slowly. “How?”

“Kiss me.”

William drew his own conclusion from the request. “To absolve me like you did the crippled woman?”

Angelus smiled. The boy looked uncertain but stepped up. He stood before the larger man, looking quite young and nervous. He leant hesitantly in, glanced up at inscrutable dark eyes and then focused on the lips again. Angelus felt himself grow rock hard, as he always seemed to do around this boy, as he felt puffs of warm air against his face. His breath smelled of honey milk.

“Are you scared, boy?” Angelus asked, tinging the words callously with sarcasm.

William looked up one more time before placing a quick gentle kiss on the cold lips. Angelus’ ball’s thrummed at the innocence of the boy.

“William.” He said seriously. “We both know your crime was a graver charge than that.” He held the boy’s face in his hands. William looked away.

He pulled the face to his own and kissed the boy, his tongue sneaking out between the plump lips. He heard William making high-pitched noises into his mouth.

He pulled away and smiled at the shock on the face before him. His lips puffy and his skin pale. His eyes seemed twice their usual size, his irises pinpoints in the sea of blue around them.

“Now,” Angelus said in a business like manner, “remove your pants.”

The boy stood there.

“I am very busy William, are we going to test your love of God or not?”

His lips fumbled open and closed for a while, before he turned away shyly and undid his pants. He toed his shoes off and socks, and then looked over his shoulder to see Angelus disinterestedly reading a book. Once he turned back around Angelus dropped the pretence and stared at what would unveil. William slowly slid his pants off revealing his pale young cheeks. Angelus shook his head in wonder. The body was just as perfect as he remembered. He was very slight, and as he bent over to fully remove the pants he inadvertently gave Angelus a glimpse of his puckered brown hole. His skin coloured in the candlelight, as opposed to the white form of the moonlight the previous night. Angelus snapped shut the book he was holding making the half-clothed man jump. William turned around, head bowed, his hands over his genitals.

“Right then.” Angelus disappeared through a side door for a moment and brought back a pot of rose oil, which, he bet, William would not know why.

Angelus oiled his fingers and motioned for William to come closer. The boy’s face was completely red, but he shuffled forward, his hands cupped over himself. Angelus looked at the few dark brown curls the hands couldn’t cover, feeling like he could come at any moment. William was standing in front of him again, looking down at his hands, with a pinched expression. Angelus felt the amorous puffs of air on his neck.

“Good boy.” He murmured, trying to relax the man. It would not be a pleasant experience if his body was clenching with nerves.

He rubbed his hands together warming the oil, and then moved his hands around the boy to massage the back of his hips while pushing the boy into him. Williams’s face was against his shoulder and his shaking hands were against Angelus’ crotch, although he didn’t seem to notice the hard cock beneath the robes. The candlelight picked up the red in his curls, making it shine.

Angelus dipped his hand again into the oil, warmed it and started stroking the top of Williams’s crack.

The boy leant back and looked warily into his face. “What are you doing?”

“Trust me, William. It is for your own good.”

The boy stayed looking at him as the vampire’s hands moved lower, massaging his cheeks. Angelus used one forearm to push the boy back against his chest.

He brushed the oily tip of his finger across the boy’s hole and feeling him straighten like a rod, he moved his hands away, frustrated. He ran the fingers over the skin beneath his hole, crinkling the sparse wayward hair, pulling at it gently. He felt the boy shift and sigh through his nose in pleasure, so he moved the finger back to the hole and pushed the tip in. The boy clenched and made a noise but then relaxed. Angelus began to finger him, feeling the body begin to squirm. He added another finger. William was panting as he thrust them in quickly, in short jabs. A moan finally escaped the boy as he added a third and twisted them around. His boy’s hands were now squeezing Angelus’ hips unconsciously, as his body hungrily accepted the fingers. His face pressed into Angelus’ broad chest and a hard cock pressed against his own.

Angelus leant back and grabbed an unused candle from his desk. He dipped the bottom into the oil. William was gone; his mind controlled by the fingers inside him and didn’t notice anything. Angelus pulled his fingers out of the wet hole and used the hand to lift one of Will’s legs up to hook over his hipbone. William’s body was operating alone, thrusting his hard cock into Angelus’ robes to create some friction. His arms wrapped around the vampire’s waist. Angelus held the leg up over his hip and pushed the candle end into the hole without much resistance. William’s head fell back on his shoulders, curls falling back from his forehead, his mouth open in a silent groan, eyelids fluttering.

“You’re doing well William.” Angelus said calmly, knowing the boy was in a place where was existing solely on sensation. His hands were fisted in Angelus’ robe, his leg squeezing around his hip as the vampire began to slide the candle in and out. His face was contorted in pleasure so intense it was viewed as pain; the pink lips pulled back, eyes clenched closed under a frown. Angelus gave the candle three quick pushes and watched fascinated as the boy looked like he was going to cry from the pleasure of it. Angelus drew the candle out until only the tip remained in. He stayed until the boy opened his eyes, chest heaving with pants as he breathed heavily, his eyes wide, pupils dilated madly, watching the vampire. Angelus pushed the candle back in and almost came as the boy’s eyes stayed on his as his head fell back and his mouth opened with desire. He panted again once the movement stopped. Angelus noted the boy wasn’t breathing as the candle slid. Only when it stopped. He, feeling quite the experimenter, slid the candle in and out of the boy in rapid succession, not stopping, his own cock in pain as he watched his boy caught in the middle of some pleasure maelstrom.

He released his hard grip on the leg over his hip and used the arm to pull the boy towards him, catching him in a kiss, fucking his mouth with his tongue like he had wanted to the moment he saw this creature. He pounded the candle into the boy’s pliant body, hearing him groan and whimper like a song, William’s body taking over, talented and novice as he fucked himself on the wax phallus. Angelus simply held the candle and watched in amazement as William’s body worked itself up and down, a sexual being separate from the shy Victorian poet, eager to bring himself to his first conscious climax. He was shaking his head, his hands pushing slightly against Angelus to create more pressure as the phallus entered him. Angelus laughed as he wondered what would happen if the boys over zealous fucking broke it off inside him.

He supposed he’d have to fish it out.

He grunted at the thought and started shoving it in viciously.  William howled in pain and shot his release over Angelus’ robes. Angelus shrugged, deciding it probably wouldn’t be good for his boy to have something stuck inside him anyway, but remembered to file the idea away for later use. Angelus thrust the candle a few more lazy times before withdrawing it. William slumped against him. Wet tears ran down his face. He looked up at Angelus, face flushed and guilty. The vampire smiled and made sure the boy saw the instrument of his defilement as he placed the candle back on his table. William’s eyes grew large at the sight of it, knowing it had been inside him, and averted his gaze.

“That was a sin, William.” Angelus said calmly. “And you enjoyed it.”

He wiped his hands on the spoiled robes.

Williams hair hung in sweaty strands, he stood in only his shirt, his feet together on the floor, legs together as he again shielded his manhood from view.

“I’m sorry.” He stuttered.

“Yes. Yes. Here kiss me. I will hold your sin, as I always do.”

William stepped up without hesitation and kissed him. Angelus, nodded inwardly at this improvement, decided to push him a little further.

“Now. I have taken your sin. I bear evidence of it on my robes.”  William looked resolutely at the floor. Angelus tried not to laugh at his manipulation of the boy.

“Just being around you has sinned me. You must receive mine.” He whispered.

William looked up. “How?”

He stepped close to the man and wrapped his arm around his waist. He pulled his robes up and guided William’s hand to his cock. William’s eyes went wide and tried to pull away but Angelus’ hand wrapped around his own. He could feel his cock jumping at the warm hesitant hand around him.

“Father…”

“Are you not one to equal the score William? Would you leave me with your debt?” He asked harshly, horny and frustrated at the boy’s unwillingness.

“No, but…”

Angelus moved William’s hand along his shaft, feeling the poet’s fingers twitch a few times. He let go of the hand carefully, ready to grab it if William tried to take it away, but it kept the motion going.

Angelus sighed. “Good boy.”

He stood close to the boy so he could not see what he was doing. Angelus would’ve liked to watch William’s hand uncertainly stroking him but he thought this way easier. He’d probably have to smack the boy around to make that happen. Angelus, already suffering from prolonged excitement, came quickly, covering William’s hand.

William withdrew his hand and stared at the spend covering it. He frowned and rubbed two fingers together experimentally. Angelus immediately grew hard at the sight of the man playing with his come, and decided to get rid of him before he scared the boy off with further action.

He kissed him again, forgiving him for any sin and got the boy dressed and out of the room.



***


The very next night, William waited in the confessional for Father Angelus. The church was empty, William had especially waited until nightfall for his confession, and it was half on nine. He didn’t want anyone to hear and there was less activity in the church at night than in the morning. His gut was twisting. Father Robert had offered to take confession for him but he could only see Father Angelus for this matter. Robert had told him to wait.

And he did, picking at the wooden seat.


***



Angelus stepped into the booth, having sent Robert on his way.

“My child?” He asked.

“Forgive me Father for I have sinned.” William said, running his words together.

Angelus smiled. “Have you dreamt with the Devil again?”

“No.”

Angelus was intrigued. “Then what?”

“I … is there any one out there?”

“No, everyone has gone. I would know if someone was in the church.” Angelus said truthfully.

“I … I may have, um, corrupted myself.”

“What?” said Angelus, in a dangerously low tone. William had better mean that statement in his usual naïve way. Angelus only wanted this boy to feel pleasure around him, and guilt all other times. That was the way Angelus had planned to tie the boy to him. If he had done something to pleasure himself, Angelus’ power over him would weaken.

“I was thinking about … uh, yesterday. And it … felt … I had to do it again.”

“What?” repeated the vampire.

“I took a candle from the cupboard. I … used it on myself. And I … I … want to do it again. Is it a sin? If it feels so good?”

Angelus was shaking with anger. How dare he? How dare this boy, his boy, take the knowledge he gleaned from his Father and use it to pleasure himself without Angelus’ watchful eye? He dared defy Angelus’ wishes?

“You come here to tell me this?” He said, low, in a growl that filled his stomach. He flung the door of it’s hinges and stormed out of the booth. He grabbed a shocked William out of his side and threw him across the floor. He lay still for a moment, holding his shoulder.

“You come to a Priest! In the house of God! To detail how you enjoyed defiling your body! I pray for you, boy, Satan’s claws are in your eyes.” He snarled.

William shook his head and backed up, wide-eyed.. “No! I just... I couldn’t help … please! Forgive me!”

“There is no forgiveness for what you have done.”

Horror welled in William’s eyes. “I’ll never do it again!” He shrieked.

He stalked up to the prone figure and kicked him. “You’ve done it once! Once is enough! Go! Back to your den of sin!”

William grabbed Angelus’ leg through the robes. “Please!”

“What is it you came here for? For forgiveness? Or to brag? Mock God in his own house to show how you can debauch yourself for Satan.”

Tears ran down his face, his lips wet. He drew his knees back to his chest, wrapping his arms around them as fear painted his face.

He was exquisite.

Angelus wiped spittle from his lips as he dropped to his knees before the weeping boy. “I’ll show you debauchery.” He whispered.

William looked up, blue eyes filled with alarm and Angelus kissed him, harshly, biting his lips but not hard enough to bleed the boy.

He grabbed the back of Williams neck in one hand as he stood, dragging the boy past the rows of pews and up the few stairs to the large platform the priests stood at to speak. He kicked the podium down; it crashed into the pews and shattered. William crouched next to the large communion table that filled the rest of the raised level.

“Father, I’m sorry if I have angered you…” He rambled, scared.

“You have fucking well angered me!” Angelus screamed into his wincing face, before hauling him up by the shirt. He ripped the fabric off, exposing William’s pale chest and pushed him down onto the table, clearing it of mess.

“Father! What are you…?”

He pulled William’s pants off, whipping them down in anger. William sat up on the table, eyes wide, bottom lip trembling enticingly. He was naked apart from his shoes.

“Take off your shoes.” Angelus growled.

“W… Why?” he asked, a tear rolling a wet track down his cheek.

Angelus shook his head slowly, and gave the boy an almighty backhand. He glared at him. “Now, boy”

William, one hand against his reddening cheek, his lips quivering, toed his boots off. Naked, he sat for judgement.

Angelus stared at him, motionless. William’s eyes darted to the front door. Angelus smirked and wrapped his hand around Williams’s neck, forcing him to lie down on the table. William’s hands automatically came up to wrap delicately around his thick wrist. His eyes blinked, pleading, his arse cheeks just on the edge of the wood, his legs hanging off the table spread around Angel’s own.

“Maybe you came here to continue your defilement? Is that it?” Angelus whispered, revelling in his power.

William shook his head as much as he could in Angelus’ hold. He fidgeted.

“Did you want something from me, Will?” He unzipped his pants with his other hand and brought his hard drooling cock out. “This?” Whimpering noises bubbled up from William’s throat.

“Much bigger than a candle,” He said as he masturbated, still holding William’s naked body down by the throat. Tears were running out of his eyes, but his cock was rising. Angelus cocked an eyebrow.

“You love this.” He smacked William’s cheeks eliciting a yelp. “Don’t you?”

He swung William around by his neck, so his feet were on the slick tabletop and his head was hanging off.

“Open your mouth.”

William sniffed muckily and opened his mouth. Angelus prodded his cock into the hole, thrusting shallowly, still holding onto his throat. He felt a tongue licking at him.

He groaned. “Good boy, good.”

The tongue licked stronger, swirling around the head a few times.

“Suck.”

Instantly a vacuum started around his cock. He held onto the throat and fucked his mouth for a while, feeling his balls slap against the boys nose. He pushed deeper, hand on his neck feeling the boy’s throat expand to take him, gagging noises coming from the body below. Every so often William would jerk his arms or legs suddenly when Angelus triggered his gag reflex.

He withdrew, noting the boy was crying again, his nose running, but still hard and wet. He spun William back into his original position, legs off the table around him.

Angelus spat down onto his cock a few times, then dropped his hold on the boy’s throat for a moment to lift his legs, spitting into his tight clenching hole. He wrapped his hand around Will’s throat again and worked the spit into his hole with the other.
With that as preparation he leant forward pushing his cock into the body beneath him. William yelled so he shifted his grip on the throat so he could splay his fingers across the mouth as well, stifling the sound. He began thrusting.

“Did you come here for this? Do you enjoy it?” Angelus growled as his hips sawed back and forth in the virginally tight hole. William stared back at him, scared, his body jerking as the cock raping him jabbed painfully into his tender passage. “ANSWER.”

He nodded. Angelus rewarded his honesty with a roll of his hips. The boy groaned.

“Do you like the fact that anyone could walk in? A priest? A nun? A flock of people through the church’s ever open doors?” He asked, rolling William’s head pushing his cheek against the table so he could see the doors he himself had come through. Angelus pounded into him, William’s legs bent up, resting against the vampire’s sides as he thrust. “Do you want these people of God to see you like this? Another man’s penis inside you? Allowing yourself to be defiled under a statue of Christ? Enjoying your debauchment?”

He began crying again. Angelus thrust harshly, savouring the soft flesh of William’s cheeks jiggle against his thighs. The blue eyes, blue like blue jay feathers, rolling back in lust. His body had begun to arch up against the arm holding him down. He was grunting in time to the thrusts. William’s hands came up to rest on the back of his shoulders, still wincing with the harsh pain.

Angelus leant down, lying over the writhing, sweaty body. He brushed back William’s hair from his wet forehead with a tenderness that belied his powerful rhythm.  “You body was made for this corruption William. You were born to be a whore, created by demons of lust to satisfy others.” He whispered. “I knew it, the moment I saw you.”

The boy groaned and squirmed, whining high in his throat at the words and the pleasure Angelus was building within him, thrust by thrust.

“You’ll always be this. Ready to raped. Willing. Wanting to be possessed by this.” He stated, arching his back to draw his cock far out before pushing roughly back inside. “An pink lipped, blue eyed whore. Always laying down for me to take.”

William nodded, tears running down his face into his ears. Angelus licked them up, salty and sweet, snuffling into the boy’s hair. He reached down and wrapped his hand around the boy’s erection, stripping it harshly. He kissed his boys full lips gently as he pounded and pulled painfully, creating a converse fervour for the virgin. He stood back up, releasing his grip on the throat. William hung on, his arms around Angelus’ shoulders and he dragged the boy up.

“Gorgeous. Gorgeous boy.” He grunted as he thrust.

Williams’s face pushed into the juncture of Angelus’ neck and shoulder, kissing the soft skin there. Angelus gripped a hold on the boy’s cheeks, bouncing him up and down on his cock as he stood.
He knew what the boy was feeling. Pain, and fear, but mostly shame. That he enjoyed it. And wanted it to continue. To happen again. Knowing he should be hating the thing inside him but loving and craving and lusting for him anyway.
William whimpered and kissed Angelus’ mouth, a kiss full of lust and innocence and promises of things he was only now learning. He slipped his warm tongue between Angelus’ lips, tickling gently at his tongue, licking his teeth. He pulled back and licked his lips, tasting Angelus on them.

“Mine, boy. You’re so beautiful and you’re mine.”

William bounced on Angelus’ cock and bit his lower lip enticingly, holding the vampire’s gaze as he nodded slowly.

Angelus bent them both over the table again and began the hard pounding again, brutal and quick, drawing his release. William licked his lips again, pulling his cock, groaning and babbling words of sin and lust, twisting his body, his head rolling from side to side. Angelus felt a hot wet on his stomach and watched as William became lax, his eyes fluttering closed. A seraph, naked and perfect, exhausted but ever arousing lust in others, his wet curls falling back as his mouth fell open. He murmured. Something … but it was enough to send the vampire over.

Angelus came, spewing cold seed into the bruised bowels of his boy. His cock twitched inside the warm cold for a moment, before he pulled out slowly. William twitched a little. Blood flecked come and spit fell from the spasming hole, clenching rhythmically like it was still being fucked. William’s legs slowly came down to rest his feet on the floor. Angelus stepped back, his head foggy as he watched.
Williams’s pale supple body was layed out on the table like a sacrifice on an altar.

A sacrifice. William had sacrificed himself. To a vampire.

Angelus smiled and climbed up on the table over him. He grabbed the face between his hands.

“This body is mine. I want to use it forever.” He told the pleasure high face.

William nodded happily. “Always.” He murmured, giggling.

Angelus growled and bit down into the hot fleshy neck, savouring the last warmth from his boy’s body. He sucked as William made short pained sounds, elegant fingers clenching around his biceps. After a few solid, time drawing moments he drew back and layed the boy’s head back gently on the table. William’s blood told his story, sweet as honey, the tang staying long after he swallowed. Coy and refined and rose water and new life. A sharp heady zest that lay under the smooth surface. His blood was liquid poetry. William’s hands dropped weakly from arms. Angelus brushed the red brown curls back and stared into the dark eyelash surrounded blue.

“Mine?”

“Yours.” He whispered harshly, his strength failing.

Angelus bit his wrist, drawing his own poetry, and slowing time.

But the candles still burnt as they always did.
The church was again quiet. The mice still squeaked in the walls. The moon still shone.

William’s heart still beat. But it was fading fast. Some things never change. Some things never will.

He held the red stream over William’s open mouth and the boy feebly reacted to it. A few drops splashed onto his William’s lips.

It didn’t bother him. He’d lick them clean later.



                ~Finis~

 

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