Title:
Author: Inca
Feedback: Or
someone might interrupt my art-
[email protected]
Rating NC17
AU Liam/William
Disclaimer: They
don't belong to me, I just like to play with them
Spoilers: AU
Summary: Risen
from the ashes, as an Angel
***
He snuck to
Liam's room. It was still early in the morning, the
birds didn't even
chirp at
anyway, couldn't
sleep. Couldn't do anything but smile at how
excited Liam
would be from his present.
He opened the
door and slipped inside, closing it behind him
quietly.
The bed was
empty. He frowned in alarm and glanced uselessly around
until he saw the
white-soled foot poking out motionlessly from under
the bed. He knelt
down next to the bed and looked under, seeing Liam
curled up on the
floor, sleeping.
"Baby,"
He said, reaching out and shaking him gently. "Angel?"
He opened his
eyes after a moment and grinned sleepily, turning it
into a yawn.
"Will!" he gurgled happily, licking his lips and
rubbing the sleep
out of his eyes.
"Baby, why
are you sleeping under the bed again?"
He watched him,
the side of his face on his pillow. He looked a bit
guilty. "'ts
scary sometimes." He clawed his way out and reached for
his water.
Will knee walked
over to him while he drank and wrapped his arms
around him
happily, deciding to try to decipher his behaviour
later.
"Happy Anniversary." He whispered, unable to keep the grin
from his face.
Liam murmured and
smiled, turning to him and giving him a kiss on
the cheek.
"Happy happy."
"Look,"
he said indicating the present. "I'm going to give this to
you now. I
couldn't wait till our session this evening."
Liam looked very
excited. He purred. Having no idea about
paintbrushes,
Will had aimed for the most expensive and exclusive,
and therefore,
hopefully, the best. He handed over the flat present
and Liam sat on
the floor and ripped off the gold paper excitedly.
He clicked opened
the hard case and lifted the lid to reveal thirty
paintbrushes
settled in a semi-circle fan inside, white and brown
brushes and long
thin mahogany handles.
Liam blinked and
the squealed ecstatically, trying to make himself
heard even though
Will's hand had slapped over his mouth.
"Shh, baby,
shhh!" he giggled. He was glad he'd closed the door.
He let Liam
attack his face with kisses until the shiny slender wood
distracted him
again. "If I missed any ones you want, just tell me,
and they can make
it up, yeah?"
"…pretty…"
Liam said, looking down at the paintbrushes like they
were made of
gold.
He nibbled on
Liam's ear as a response. He could feel Liam's arms
come up around
his neck, filled with paintbrushes, the hair on them
tickling under
his jaw.
"Like them
baby?"
He purred and
licked up his neck, the wet cold as air brushed
against it.
"Here Daddy,
have something for you too."
He opened the
drawer and pulled out a pencil, worn down almost to
the nub. A small
slice had been scraped off at the end, revealing
the light wood
around the graphite, and the words `love you' had
been scratched
into it with pen. Liam handed it over with a shy
smile.
"That's the
pencil I used the first time I ever drew you. Remember?"
Will was touched.
Liam had actually remembered that, and it had
meant enough for
him to keep something of that meeting.
It meant so much
he wanted Will to have it.
"Yes I
remember." He took the pencil and leant forward to kiss
him. "I
still have that. I put all your drawings in an album."
Liam seemed to
like that idea and shifted closer to him, so he was
almost perched on
his thigh. "Everytime I used it from then on, I
thought of you. I
knew I loved you when I drew you that time."
The words made
Will press his lips against Liam's. He opened his
mouth, compelling
Liam to open his own, rewarding his compliance
with his tongue,
soothing and possessive and loving.
"I'll keep
it with me always." He said sincerely.
Liam meowed
happily.
**~~**
It was about
midday and Angel was sitting in the art room, humming
along with the
anniversary songs the stars were carolling.
It was a good
day.
Will and he had a
session later. Will had told him that a lot that
morning, when he
wouldn't let him leave, wanting him to stay, not
caring about the
guard, distracting him with lips and fingers and
tongue. Will had
kissed his forehead and scampered out of the room
with an
uncomfortable hard on.
He was painting
with the paintbrushes Will had given him, painting
the sparklers
that the stars were holding in celebration. He focused
on some detail
just left of centre so he could try out the Angular
Teijin in the
set. He'd used it a few times before, but never in
here. They didn't
have specialty brushes really. He used it to add
blue green sparks
to the side.
"Oh god,
that is so great." He giggled hyperactively. He loved the
brushes so much.
Will was going to
get such a happy Angel kitty tonight. He grinned
seductively and
added a little passion to the picture, twirling the
pinky-red up in
smoky tendrils. The warm unfurling in his stomach,
his cock waking
up at thoughts of Will and what they'd do. Passion.
"Angel."
The stars stopped
and his stomach turned icy. He didn't turn around.
"Angel, come
with me." Steve said.
"I …
can't." He murmured to the painting. He looked around, hoping
desperately that
the other guard was still there. He wasn't. Just
Steve grinning in
the doorway. Angel angrily wished he could pay
attention
sometimes.
"Yep. Come
on."
He turned
stubbornly around and looked at his painting again. Maybe
he could add some
blue just –
A sharp pain
spreading across the back of his head made him yelp,
and he tried to
pull forward to get away from the sting but his head
was immobile. He
automatically put his hands up, and felt Steve's
meaty fist
twisted into his hair.
Steve tugged and
his head went with him, pulling his body off the
stool clumsily.
It clattered to the floor as Angel almost fell over.
"Ow, let me
go!"
The hand shook
his hair and his head went from side to side dizzily.
He yelped, and
the hand let him go. He stood up shakily, the back of
his head
throbbing indignantly as his fingers tried to soothe the
pain.
"Come with
me."
He followed
nervously, as Steve led him down the halls. They got to
a different
section, behind a locked door, and then went into
another corridor.
"Where are
we going?" He asked quietly as they walked, trying not to
upset him.
"My
office."
He whimpered
along with the stars in unease and Steve turned around
angrily.
"Shut it."
He closed his
mouth and tried to get the anxious frown off his
face. "Does
Will know?"
Steve sighed and
didn't answer. He wasn't in a good mood. He was all
red and wire. He
watched him under his lashes warily.
Angel was very.
Very. Worried.
"In
here." He said opening a door.
Angel looked
around. There was nobody. He hesitated and Steve's eyes
flared, so he
quickly ran inside hearing Steve click the door closed
behind him. The
room had monitors everywhere and cords and tapes and
electronic
equipment. It would have been interesting if he didn't
feel like he was
going to throw up.
Steve ignored the
equipment and went to another door past it,
unlocking it.
Angel peered in from where he was and saw a tiny
office with a
desk inside. Steve held the door open and watched him.
"I need to
pee." He said, feeling the familiar pressure build up
inside him.
"No you
don't, come here."
He came forward
and Steve pulled him by the waist and pressed
fleshy, rubbery
lips against him. He felt sick. He tipped his head
down to get away
from the lock when he felt a sharp tongue trying to
flick inside,
slimy against his mouth.
He looked down at
his and Steve's bodies pressed together in a fake
embrace and he
felt wrong. "Can I go to the art room?" he asked.
Steve rolled his
eyes and shucked off his jacket. "I'm good with
forgetting the
romance too."
What?
"Take em
off."
"I need to
pee." He tried again, turning away from Steve who was
unbuttoning his
shirt, not wanting to look.
Steve's fist
slammed into his kidney and he slumped to the floor in
a swamp of
nausea. He panted and swallowed, trying to keep his
stomach contents
down. He really needed to pee now. He crawled up
against the desk
and huddled there, curling himself up against the
sickening pain.
"Listen, I'm
not here to be nice to you okay? We're not friends."
Steve said from
above him. Angel stared down at his feet not daring
to look up.
"Now get your fucking clothes off or the next thing I'll
hit you with is
this." He said, slamming his baton against the door.
Angel's insides
froze, chilled and dead. He swallowed then slipped
off his uniform
quickly, still crouching on the ground.
"Get
up." The cold voice instructed.
He stood slowly,
keeping his eyes on the ground. He could see
Steve's legs were
bare above his boots and socks. He bit his lip and
his eyes watered.
He didn't want to cry, but he felt like he was
going to.
"Hop up on
the desk."
He shuffled round
keeping his body as close to the desk as possible.
He moved some
papers away and sat on the edge, still looking down,
now at his bare
knees. He saw his cock had contracted as much as
possible, and he
knew he was scared.
"Good
boy."
He sniffed.
Steve's hand pushed his chest down and he closed his
eyes. Watery muck
ran into his throat as he lay on his back, his
head hanging off
the end of it. Steve's hand smoothed all over his
chest and his
stomach, prodding and squeezing his skin. Thick
fingers played
with his collar and tears started sliding out between
his eyelids and
trickling up into his hairline.
Steve's clammy
hands ran down between his thighs….
… hands around
his ankles, making his legs stay up, and his cheeks
and nose were wet
and his eyes were puffy. His arms were over his
stomach and Steve
was sliding in and out, slapping against him. He
yelped as he
realised there was a foreign thing inside him, and he
could hear
himself cryi…
… and then he was
walking through the corridors again, clothed. He
stopped and
looked around. He didn't know where he was.
"Come on, I
haven't got all day." Steve said impatiently.
He backed away
and felt tremors of pain originating from his
backside. Steve
rolled his eyes and grabbed his wrist to drag him
behind. His eyes
were itchy and he was still sniffing. Steve led him
to a shower room
he hadn't seen before. It had stalls so it was for
staff. He was
pushed into the room and then Steve was undressing him
quickly. He had
no _expression on his face as he worked quickly and
smoothly, and it
was frightening. Steve leaned into a shower and
flicked it on.
Angel looked down
and saw the insides of the top of his thighs were
shiny and wet. He
frowned and put his fingers down to touch it,
wondering whether
he had wet himself. His asshole twanged in pain
and he reached
back a little further and his fingers were covered in
come. Steve's
come was in him. He gagged and then he was pushed into
a shower stall
and the water was freezing as it slithered over every
inch of him.
He started crying
again. Silently, his shoulders shuddering. He felt
horrible. The
stars were silent and he felt like stripping his skin
off to make them
start again. Anything. A word. A noise. It was so
quiet. He could
hear every breath Steve took heavily through his
nose, could hear
the angry hissing of the shower and the trickle
into the drain.
The colour was seeping from the room, all dull
whites and blues
and pale skin. Clinical.
Steve rolled his
sleeve up, reached in, pulled the showerhead out
and washed him.
He felt the frigid water on his hands and turned the
hot on a bit
more. Steve held the back of his neck and washed him
like an animal,
rough and unashamed, paying close attention to his
backside. He
turned off the shower and fiddled with the head for a
second, as Angel
stood watching, sniffing, and trying to stop
shivering. He
pulled something from his jacket pocket and put it in
place of the
head. It was like a hose nozzle but smaller and a lot
thinner.
He was turned
around, spun by the arm and Steve spread his legs and
stuck the nozzle
up into his anus painfully. He yelped and Steve
held him against
the wall, turning the shower back on and water
filled him up. He
yelped again and turned to look at Steve in shock.
Steve was just
watching his backside disinterestedly. Angel realised
he didn't care it
was upsetting and lent his head against the white
cold tiles. Steve
pulled the nozzle out, changing the heads again
and Angel
withered in embarrassment as the water gushed out of him,
but Steve just
watched, detached. He reached over and gave him a
quick rinse with
the showerhead again and then dragged him out of
the stall, threw
a towel at him and packed up his things. Angel
dried himself
quickly, covering as much of his body with the cloth
as he could,
under the white too bright lights.
Steve snatched
the towel away and wandered to the other end of the
room as Angel
scrabbled for his uniform. Steve came back without the
towel, waited
impatiently for him to get properly dressed and then
led him quickly
to the art room.
As they got
there, Steve grabbed his arm and pulled him closer. He
whined and tried
to jerk his arm away, upset and humiliated and
feeling like he
was going to be sick.
"You need to
do that faster next time." Steve whispered, pulling him
towards the art
room doors.
Angel finally got
his arm back. He shook his head. "No. Not again."
"Yes. If you
don't, I'll tell Will."
Angel gave him a
small smile, reckless. "I'm telling Will anyway."
"No you
aren't." Steve stood in front of him, "I'll tell him you
enjoyed it. That
you were the one who wanted to."
Angel's mind
stuttered. "But … no!"
"But yes.
And then he'll leave you." He said calmly, pulling out a
cigarette.
"But… I
didn't want to." He cried, feeling on the edge of tears
again.
The edge of the
tip burned dully, the smoke slowly drifting in
seaweed strands
up to the ceiling.
"Yes you
did, deep down. Otherwise you wouldn't have done it. You
loved it."
Steve's voice said, talking too fast for the speed his
mouth was moving,
and it sounded like he was in another room. No
colour, No song.
"No I
didn't. I hated it." He said, his voice sounded different,
tinny.
Steve led him
into the art room. "Then why did you do it?"
"Because …
you! And …" He felt trapped.
"Because you
wanted to. You love being fucked."
He shook his
head. But he was lying. He did like it when Will did
it. Will.
His lip quivered.
"I'll tell
Will how much you groaned and panted for it like the
fucking whore you
are." Angel flinched at the word, feeling it spark
on his chest.
"And he'll leave you. He doesn't need you."
Angel couldn't
think of anything to say. Steve was so sure, and … he
was right? He
must be. Will had told him not to be alone with Steve.
He couldn't let
Will find out. So he watched his feet.
"Sit down
and paint something." Steve said cheerfully, walking out
the doors.
Angel stared
after him for a second and then went to his easel and
put aside the
painting of the celebration and immediately started a
new one. One full
of black and red and people crying.
**~~**
"Hey
Angel." Will said, feeling like he was bouncing into the room,
ready to start
their session. He saw Liam's feet underneath the
painting. He was
going to collect him and then take him back to the
office, where he
had a cake waiting for him. Chocolate of course.
Chocolate on top
of chocolate and chocolate chipped cream in the
centre. Liam
would love it.
"Angel?"
he said again as he neared him.
Liam's face
appeared next to the painting and he looked less than
happy, mouth
turned down a little at the corners and frown settled
into his
forehead.
"What's
wrong?" He asked.
Liam stared at
him silently, with sad eyes. He got to him and gave
him a kiss on the
cheek, starting when he saw what he was painting.
"Are you
upset baby?" he asked warily, eyes on the painting.
It wasn't like
Liam's usual pieces. It was mostly black, with big
jagged red things
at the top, and red clouds. Deep red. And black
silhouettes of
people crouched over alone, head on their knees.
He felt Liam's
head shake under his cheek bone.
He suddenly
remembered the cameras and cursed himself. Fucking hell.
Although, he
reasoned, Steve already knew so … he'd just have to pay
him more.
Shit.
"Come on,
let's go to my office, I'll cheer you up." He smiled.
Liam looked up,
big unhappy deer eyes and managed a small smile. He
stood and
followed Will mutely to his office. A grin wiped away the
frown when he saw
the cake box on the table.
"For us?"
He said softly.
"Yes."
Will whispered, kissing over his ear and neck once the door
was closed.
"What
kind?" He asked, sounded like the normal Liam.
"Chocolate
in chocolate on chocolate."
"Oooh."
He murmured. He pulled Will over to it, flopping them on the
couch and opened
the box. "Nice!" he exclaimed.
Will sat closer
to him, so their legs were together as Liam examined
the cake. He
rubbed his hand up and down Liam's back. Liam sat back
a little and
looked sad again.
"I didn't
want to, not on our anniversary." He said, his lower lip
quivering,
suddenly looking like he was going to cry.
Will was taken
aback at the abrupt change, and the bare pain on
Liam's face.
"Eat cake?" He asked, desperately trying to catch up.
"No, I love
cake." He beamed. "Chocolate."
He leant back
down and started to cut it. Will shook his head.
"What's
bothering you? What didn't you want to do?" He asked, slowly
taking his hand
off Liam's back.
Liam scooped a
huge amount into his mouth. "Chocolate!" he said,
muffled and
kissed Will, swirling a sickly sweet tongue around in
Will's mouth
until he backed away coughing and laughing.
"Baby!"
he protested, laughing as he tried to breathe through the
crumbs.
Liam lunged at
him again, his mouth smeared with chocolate. Will was
on his back
collapsing into giggles, trying to push Liam off while
trying to get his
face away from the chocolaty mouth.
Liam straddled
his hips and swallowed the gooey mass in his mouth,
unsuccessfully
wiping the smudges off his face with the back off his
hand. He smiled.
"You make me happy."
Will fell into
giggles again, unable to stop. Liam reached under
himself and his
fingers drifted under Will's belt. He started
undulating on his
lap, waking his prick up.
"Oooh,
Baby…" Will breathed as slippery, icing covered fingers
slipped across
his cock. Liam shifted back so he was sitting on his
thighs, unzipped
Will's pants and brought his cock out, petting and
stroking it to
hardness. He cooed at it and Will started giggling
again.
"I love the
cake Daddy." He purred, giving a twist to his stroking
that made Will
try to arch up.
"Uh… that's,
that's good Pet. I'm glad." He breathed, heavily.
Liam watched his
face as he added flicks and tight squeezes to his
attendance.
Watched him with dark eyes and smudges of chocolate on
his face. Will
clawed at his uniform, pulling him down so he could
lick the
chocolate off his mouth.
*
Liam was silent
afterwards, not asleep, but lying under the covers
without singing
or humming, on his side away from Will. After a
while, Will
raised up on one arm to see over his bare shoulder, to
see his face, see
if he was alright. He was just staring contentedly
at the wall, eyes
jumping to a new point of interest, once one was
thoroughly
scrutinised.
"Anything
wrong baby?"
"No."
He said, smiling, still looking at the wall.
"Stars not
singing?"
"They are.
Quietly." His eyes flicked to the skirting. "Ever since
the cake."
"They
weren't before?"
"No. But now
they are." He rolled over onto his back, looking up
into Will's face,
his hair spread out on the pillow under his
head. "They
sing for you."
"Tell them
thankyou." He said softly, unable to resist stealing a
small kiss.
Liam nodded, and
licked his lips. Will settled beside him, leaning
on his upper arm
so his fingers could play in the strands of Liam's
hair as he turned
his attention to the ceiling. Something seemed
wrong, but Will
couldn't figure out what.
"You sure
nothing's wrong?" He asked, unable to quell the itchy
unease.
"No.
Yes." He frowned. "I'm sure nothing's wrong."
Will nodded
tightly. He leant over and kissed him again, feeling the
lips beneath his
part to accept his tongue. He slid it in smoothly,
brushing against
Liam's shyer tongue, before licking up the ridged
roof of his mouth
and pulling away. Liam smiled and rolled away
again with a
satisfied sigh.
Will frowned.
"Baby? You'd
tell me if something's wrong right?"
"…wrong
right?" Liam asked, confused.
He frowned at his
sentence.
"I mean,
would you tell me if something was upsetting you?"
A pause.
"Yes."
Unease stroked
smoky fingers along the inside of his belly. "I would
be upset if you
didn't tell me." He tried, falling back on the old
stand by to get
something out of Liam, even though he really
shouldn't.
Liam rolled back
over with a frown. "But what if it made you upset?"
Ah ha!
"Nothing you
ever tell me would make me upset at you okay?"
Velvety brown
eyes stared solemnly back. "Okay."
"So …
Anything wrong?" He asked, curling Liam's loose hair back
behind his ear.
He shook his
head.
Will didn't know
what to say, or how to feel. He knew there was
something wrong.
He decided not to press, Liam obviously didn't want
to tell him
anything.
He smiled back,
even though he couldn't help feeling a bit hurt.
Liam rolled back
away.
Will slowly
drifted back down to the pillows. It was probably
nothing. He might
just be tired. He reached out and ran a hand down
his back, past
the inked tattoo.
"Angel? Any
story behind the tattoo?" He asked, running his
fingertip along
the lines. He had tried to ask before, but Liam was
always distracted
by something.
"Everyone
has it."
Will frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"In my
family. My father and his father. And his too."
Will smiled at
the information about Liam's heritage. "You all have
griffins?"
"No,"
Liam said, obviously enjoying Will drawing on his back, "My
father had a
dragon, my grandfather had a centaur, um his father had
… um… a mermaid I
think. And we all have A's because of Alaise."
Will smiled at
the trivia. "That's neat." He said, curious. "How
long's it been
going on?"
"Generations,
started when our family was back in Ireland. Great
great great … not
sure how many `greats' grandfather had a phoenix
curled around an
A."
Will leant
forward to rest his chin on Liam's shoulder, his interest
piqued, "So
it's a tradition."
Liam nodded.
"My father took me to get mine when I was sixteen, the
same age he and
his father got them."
Will was suddenly
saddened by the fact the intriguing tradition
would end with
Liam. He backtracked quickly, unless of course Liam
met a girl … when
…
He stopped. He
couldn't be bothered pandering to the hopeful part of
his mind. Anyway,
he wanted to keep him and they weren't having any
children anytime
soon.
"Do the
girls in your family have it?"
"No, oldest
son. Connor already picked, he wants a centaur."
Will froze and
his mind stuttered ineffectually. There were so many
things wrong with
the sentence. Firstly, he used present tense,
secondly Liam
never talked about his family, thirdly, it was
horribly sad that
his son would never get the family tradition
although Liam
didn't seem affected by it…
Will breathed
carefully, heart beating wildly, in case Liam suddenly
realised what
he'd said and went into a fit. His hand was stilled on
Liam's shoulder.
He leaned warily forward to look at Liam's face but
he was just
staring forward at the wall, calm. He probably didn't
even realise he'd
said it. He felt Will's gaze and smiled up at him.
Will smiled back
and went back to rubbing his arm.
"So, what
made you pick a griffin?" he asked, getting off the
prickly subject.
"Duality."
He answered promptly.
"Duality?"
"Yes. Opposing
characteristics, earth and air, combined together and
protecting both
in harmony. Griffins capture the strength of the
lion and the
wisdom of the eagle and the courage of both."
Will kept quiet
about how accurately a griffin description portrayed
the man lying
beside him. He smiled. "You couldn't have picked
anything
better." He said.
Liam nodded in
agreement, laughing a little, before falling silent
again. Will
scrutinised the tattoo with new found interest. "I
didn't know
everything about you then, did I?" he considered.
"Sorry?"
"Never
mind." He said, brushing it off. He didn't even realise he'd
said it out loud.
The clock was
impatient and it ticked by rudely, unaware or uncaring
of how much Will
wanted the moments to last. Liam fidgeted and
became tired of
the wall, rolling over and running his fingernails
lightly over
Will's chest to amuse himself.
"Daddy?"
He said after a long while.
"Yes
Pet?"
"Do you
think we'll ever get to that huge house?"
Will frowned.
"What house Pet?"
"With the
pool."
Will's memory
kicked in. His face tensed but Liam couldn't see it,
his forehead was
resting against Will's collarbone. "Maybe."
"If I'm
good?" He asked, moving his head, looking up at Will's chin.
"You're
always good."
He made a happy
noise. "I'd purr and sleep in a huge velvet cat bed
wouldn't I?"
Will blinked.
He'd obviously been thinking about it. He wasn't sure
how to feel about
that. "Yes, I bet you would."
Liam's arm
slipped around his waist in a hug.
"And we'd
swim."
Will didn't
answer, but he smiled sadly at the contented noises Liam
was making at his
thoughts. He sighed through his nose.
"I don't
think we're going anytime soon." He said gently.
Liam stopped
humming. "Oh." He got up and lent on his elbow, the
sheet slipping
down to his hip, revealing his sleek body. "Is it
because you're
having trouble finding information about the … them?"
Will assumed he
meant vampires. But then he was confused because he
was only
researching vampires to placate Liam while he was in the
ward. Then he
realised that he hadn't gone back to `Désirer et L'âme'
even though he'd
planned to. All that … stuff… with Doyle had come
up and distracted
him. Liam was waiting for an answer.
"Um, I'm
going to a place … to get information, hopefully." He said,
with a hopeful
smile, sidestepping Liam's question.
"When?"
he blinked, again waiting for Will to answer.
"This
Saturday."
"Oh
good." He lowered down and rested his face against Will's chest
again. "Not
real …?"
"No, people.
Don't worry pet."
"Kay."
He started
humming softly. "I wish I could stay here all the time
and never
leave."
Will sighed and
ran his fingers through Liam's hair. "Me too."
"Can I stay?
If im quiet?"
Will suddenly
felt very tired. He was sure they'd talked about this.
It was hard to
say no when you were refusing something you wanted.
"I wish you
could pet, but we'd get in trouble."
"But if I
hide, please?" He said almost pitifully, desperately.
Will sat up, and
pulled Liam back by his arms so he could see his
face, see his
eyes.
"What's
happened?"
He sat looking
like a scolded child.
"Baby I'm
not angry, im worried."
"Don't be.
Nothings wrong." He leant against Will's arms for a kiss,
expecting them to
draw him close.
"Don't try
to distract me like that. Why can't you tell me?"
"There's
nothing wrong!" He whined frantically, looking like he was
going to start
crying.
Will buckled and
pulled him close, feeling the arms wrap around him
and tighten, as
Liam's cheek rested in the crook of his neck.
"I'm sorry
Baby, I don't want you sad, definitely not today."
Liam nodded and
Will felt heaviness settle on his shoulders. He's
ask again later.
Not today. Not on today. He wanted Liam to remember
today as presents
and happiness and cake. Not tears.
"I love you
Angel."
He felt a smile
against his neck.
"So
beautiful." He murmured.
Liam chuckled and
bit his chin playfully, then kissed up to whisper
in his ear.
"You'll keep
me?"
Will turned his
head and caught him in a light kiss. "Definitely."
"Happy
Anniversary Daddy." He sing-songed before licking his lips
and pulling
himself up to sit on Will's lap.
**~~**
Angel sat in the
art room painting a picture that was all blue.
Light and dark
but all blue. It was how he felt. The stars were cold
and indifferent
and he was feeling lonely. They were whispering
about him.
Whispering that
he lied to Will.
That he betrayed
him.
He couldn't argue
with them, because it was true. But Will would
have been upset,
he knew Will. At Steve, but mainly at him because
Will had told him
not to go with Steve. And he was right.
He added a blue
stripe down the centre and pouted.
Will made him
happy. But he couldn't feel happy at the moment. Only
felt … blue. And
cold. He got off the stool and laid down across one
of the tables. He
couldn't be bothered to work. He couldn't be
bothered to do
anything but lie here and hope maybe Will could come
and love him.
He blinked and
stared at the ceiling.
His face
hardened. He hated Steve. He hated him. He wanted …. He
wanted him to
die.
The stars looked
at him and he felt bad.
Maybe not die.
But hurt.
Blue.
He sighed. He
stared at the ceiling for a while, hoping to catch a
glimpse of one of
the stars before sitting up.
"Ah!"
he yelped.
Steve was sitting
at one of the tables.
"You seem a
bit down." He said with a fanged smile on his face and
black eyes.
Angel didn't
answer, just moved away from him, standing against the
wall.
"What? Didn't
you know? New hours, I said I'd look after you while
everyone else
does that workshop. But of course, not on the books,
just to help out
a friend."
Angel stared at
him.
"So every …
what is it? How many times a week? Oh yeah three, So
three times a
week, I'll have you for an hour and a half."
Angel shook his
head, not daring to look away or even blink in case
Steve leapt at
him.
"Yep. So
come with me."
"I want to
finish my painting." He said, walking slowly over to the
easel as the
ground swayed.
Steve grabbed the
back of his uniform and pulled him backwards out
the door.
"Chop chop. Gotta be quick." He said cheerily.
Angel spun around
so he wasn't tripping backwards and followed Steve
as slowly as he
could while still being held.
"Hurry
up." Steve said after they'd made it down the hallway. Angel
had slowed to
snail's pace.
He shook his head
defiantly. Steve stopped coldly and pulled him
into a linen
closet. He unclipped his baton and swung it around.
Angel swallowed.
Steve grabbed one
of his hands and pulled it up, quick as
lightening, and
belted the stick across his back, slamming right
into his kidney.
Waves of pain and shock rolled through him like he
was being covered
by black water. His legs were useless and he
collapsed,
choking.
"Don't you
vomit." Steve said.
He felt like he
was going to. It was so painful. He sat shivering on
the ground, head
against the wall.
"Look I'm
sorry, okay? But if you just did what I wanted …" Steve
nudged him with
his foot, the toe of his boot digging into Angel's
thigh. "You
ready?"
Angel looked up
at the baton being swirled around and nodded.
"Good, come
on then, get up."
He did and
followed Steve to his office, like last time. He wished
desperately for
Will. To come in and knock Steve into hospital like
he did Mikael.
He followed Steve
into the office and watched quietly as he threw a
blanket down on
the small floor, in front of the desk. The door
beside him was
still open and he concocted a vague plan to run
through it, and
keep running until he found Will, and then keep
running and
running and not stopping until they reached the huge
house and locked
everything out.
"
–now."
He looked up,
realising he had missed something. "Sorry?"
Steve closed his
eyes and that was just as scary as being hit
because he didn't
know what he was going to do.
"Take it
off. Get down on the rug." He said carefully, eyes still
closed.
He popped the
buttons of his uniform. It didn't matter, none of it,
because Will was
going to get him out. He just had to put up with it
a little longer
and then … he'd get out. So it didn't matter.
He sat on the
floor.
"Turn around
idiot."
He flipped over
onto his knees and focused on how it would feel once
he finally got
out. No more tiny rooms and people touching him, only
Will, but he
wanted Will to touch him. He loved Will so it felt
good. Felt like
stars.
Some slick was
slapped across his hole. It was freezing. The room
smelled musty,
like old forgotten books. The paper, brown and aged.
Quick fingers
inside him and he held his breath the entire time. He
couldn't see what
Steve was doing, could only see the dark
watermarks on the
wall.
When Will was
working he'd curl up and sleep, next to the fire if it
was cold, or near
a window if it was hot. Stretched out and
unafraid. And
after Will had finished whatever he'd crawl up next to
him and curl
around him.
He bit his lip in
pain as Steve pushed inside his unprepared ring.
He was trying to
fade out, but it wasn't working. He was panting
from the pain. He
could hear himself grunting and `no'-ing.
He wondered what
Will was doing. Maybe having a catnap. In the couch
in his office,
eyelids flickering as he dreamt, hopefully of Angel,
dark smudges of
eyelashes. Sunlight washing over him, making him
look bone white.
He had his hands
on the wall in front of him, gritting his teeth as
Steve slammed
into him painfully. His backside was in so much pain
his eyes were
rolling back.
Will was …
Red and hurting,
flashes of lightning pain.
And the stars …
they were…
Will! He was
betraying him. Will would never do this to him.
He couldn't hold
it in anymore, couldn't ignore it, he let his head
drop forward and
started bawling, purging the secrets and lies
through the
water, unable to breath through the sobs and Steve was
smacking him on
the back of the head as they rocked to try to stop
him.
Steve started
fucking him even more viciously, slamming into him so
much he was
almost hitting his head on the wall and then he felt a
spurt inside him
and he was going to vomit.
He started
breathing deeply as Steve's strokes became slower and
more relaxed. He
pulled out and the pain turned into a toothachey
throb. He moaned.
"Too rough
too …"
His insides felt
scraped up. He hadn't been prepared well enough and
now he was in so
much pain. He leant his forehead against the wall
and panted.
He felt his
asshole pulsing from the rough treatment and then a
drool of wet roll
down the inside of his thigh.
He knew what it
was.
The bile rose and
he was sick, heaving onto the blanket. His arms
were shuddering
and he started crying again.
He hated throwing
up.
He could still
feel the wet on his thighs. Steve. Steve's come and
some of it would
always be inside, like Mikael and Har… he'd never
get them out.
Have to turn himself inside out with knives and cut
them all out, cut
the festering come off his organs, scrape it out
because it would
always be there.
He screamed at
the stars to stop screeching, his ears were bleeding
yellow from it
and then Steve was knocking him over. He kept yelling
at them until a
hard slam to his kidney, the one that had already
been abused, made
him take in a breath and curl up.
"You fucking
retard asshole!" Steve spat, kicking him so he'd roll
away. "I get
you a fucking blanket so you're comfortable and you
puke all over it.
I'll do you over the fucking toilet next time …
room's fucking
stinking of vomit."
He rolled up
sobbing quietly as Steve disappeared. He couldn't move.
He wanted Will to
come in and take him away.
Never again. He
couldn't do it again.
The stars weren't
helping just shouting about trust and love and how
he deserved Steve
if that's how he was going to treat Will.
He knelt up,
gasping at the shards of pain resonating from his anus,
and pulled his
uniform close, trying to find something to clean
himself up with.
His back was throbbing from where he'd been hit, it
was horrible. His
head was all mucky from crying.
He felt in the
pocket, hoping for a tissue and frowned as he felt a
square of paper.
He pulled it out.
Will's
handwriting.
`Kiss' was
written all over.
He lay back down
on the floor, knees under his chin and clutched the
paper to his
chest.
"Will Will
Will Will Will Will Will Will…."
The next thing he
knew, he was back in his room alone, sitting on
his bed, his hair
wet.
**~~**
Will slipped in
through the warehouse door, the machinery-meets-last
century flair
layout of `Désirer et L'âme' sprawling out before him.
It definitely was
a lot busier on a Saturday night, but Will noticed
an abundance of
very young black haired girls in attendance. They
looked like they
weren't out of school yet.
As he walked past
a large group of them all dressed in black mini
skirts and
stripey tights, eyes catted out with black eyeliner, e
heard them giggle
and ignored the thigh-wet eyes they were making at
him.
He wanted to tell
them to go home, but bit his tongue and made his
way through the
swaying chiffon and leather whitefaced people.
He shook his
head. If someone had told him last year that he'd be in
love with a
mental patient and placating him by visiting gothic
warehouse clubs
he would have claimed them certifiable.
Funny how life
turns out sometimes.
He looked around,
searching for something, not sure what, but he'd
know it when he
saw it. It would be obvious. Even though he didn't
really know what
he was looking for, it would be obvious.
One girl caught
his eye. She sat at the bar alone drinking a Corona.
He sidled towards
her. She was pretty, big eyed, her style nothing
like the other
girls there. No cat eyes or silk. No leather.
"Hey."
She looked at him
blankly. "Hey."
"So … you're
not like the rest of them."
"Nope. I
just look after them. I work as a bouncer here some nights."
Will nodded.
Strange choice. "Oh. So you don't believe in … what
they believe
in..."
"No I
believe." She smiled hugely. "So. You wanna be a vampire?"
"Me? Not
particularly." He leaned close. "I wanna see one though."
She picked up her
glass and smiled a little smile into it. "You
wanna see
one." She repeated quietly. Her eyes flicked to his. "Up
close?"
He smiled back,
with all the flirting and mysterious looks they were
flinging at each
other he felt almost as if they were dating, or
about to commence
foreplay.
"As close as
I can get."
"That could
be dangerous." She purred, pushing her dark hair back.
"Could
it?"
"Yeah."
She knocked back her drink. "Come on." She left bills on the
bar and dragged
Will through the writhing mass and out the back of
the club, her
face suddenly emotionless.
They walked for a
while, it was close to midnight, the girl looking
at him every now
and then – up and down. She had dropped his hand
after they left
the heat of the club and now she just walked,
quickly.
They got to the
cemetery. "In here."
"In the
cemetery?" he asked, snorting.
She laughed and
slipped in the open gate. He hesitated, then ran in
after her. She
was obviously a little weird. He wasn't quite sure
why he was
following her, maybe because she seemed like she knew
something. Maybe
there was some other Goth party in the cemetery,
hardcore vamp
wannabe's, and maybe they lived the life like Harlen.
Then he could get
some real information. No more of this shagging
about with
scrawny men in capes.
"Have you
ever seen a vampire?" he asked, following her between the
rows.
"Seen
one?" she said, not looking around. They were off the path
now, wandering
through gravestones and Will was beginning to get a
little antsy.
"Yeah. A
real one."
She turned around
to face him. "I see one now." She smiled and
pointed over his
shoulder.
He turned
quickly.
Nothing.
He heard her
laughing and turned back. "Made you look." She cackled
and led him
further. He pulled a face and tried to keep up.
They picked their
way across new and old gravestones, more new than
old. The girl
seemed to favour those. She looked around like she was
searching for
someone, eyes jumping around the dark grounds.
She sat down
against a mausoleum, in the shadows. "Here, we'll wait
for him."
She looked at her nails and then tied the shoelace up on
her boot.
Him?
"Wait for
who?"
Will felt an
uneasy uncertainty that he was going to get robbed.
"Listen,
this was … fun, but I better –"
"Keep
talking. I want him to hear you." She broke in, not looking at
him, but at
something across the way.
He turned.
There was a man –
about ten yards away. Looking at them. He stood
still, wearing a
simple black shirt and jeans. He stood very still,
staring at them
intensely. He turned back to his guide. She waved at
the man and then
grinned at Will. Will felt his stomach squiggle.
"Who's th
–"
"Hey!"
She yelled. "Nice one, right?"
He just stood
there, staring at them, not moving. He looked like a
statue. For some
reason, Will was very, very scared. His stomach was
flipping and his
entire being was being pulled away. He'd had
enough.
Thoroughly spooked he turned to run, but her hand held his
arm.
"Let me
go." He said.
"Sure.
Later." She laughed, face secretive and playful.
Then, behind her
laughing eyes, he saw him. Another …
He blinked.
He ….
He cocked his
head and peered. His nostrils prickled.
The man was
wearing a long black coat, and black clothes. His hair
was light brown
and spiked. He had earrings all up one ear. But that
wasn't what Will
noticed first.
The golden eyes
and the furrowed brow he noticed.
But mostly he
noticed the long shining fangs edging out of his mouth.
Fangs…?
Will's mind felt
like it was stalling, like he was in second and
he'd accidentally
been kicked into fifth instead of third and his
mind was clicking
over and not catching. The man rushed towards
them, but the
girl turned and swung her leg out, kicking him in the
gut. She flipped
over to him and backhanded the man. Will heard a
dizzy `crack' as
her knuckles broke his cheekbone. He backed away,
hunched over,
eyes wide and mind reeling. He looked around wildly to
see the other man
charging towards them.
His eyes…
"Thought you
could bait me? HUH!" She hit him again, and then hauled
him up and over
to Will. Will stood speechless. She pulled out a
short sharpened
pike and jabbed it into his chest.
Will squeaked as
he obliterated into a million dusty particles.
"Wha' vhe
fuuuuuuucc….?" He groaned out, unable to move his mouth.
"That."
She said, kicking the other man that had run up behind her.
She stabbed the
wood into his chest as well, watching smugly as he
exploded into
ash. "Was a vampire." She finished.
Will blinked and
then let out a hysterical laugh.
Dust …
"He … he
EXPLODED!"
"Yup."
"He bloody
EXPLODED!" He said again, in case she hadnt heard, or
seen.
She nodded
calmly, and flicked the dust off the breast of her jacket.
"Vampire?"
He asked wildly.
"Yep."
She said, sticking the wood back into the back of her pants,
under her jacket.
She cocked her
head and watched him. "Don't worry, it was rough the
first time I saw
one too." Will laughed again, but he thought he
felt a tear
squeeze out as well. "Come on, I'll buy you a drink."
She led him away,
but he turned to look at the two piles of dust
that were slowly
drifting away in the wind.
*
"I'm insane.
This is all just a figment of my imagination and … I'm
insane."
Will said, the first words he had said since they left the
cemetery.
She took a big
gulp of her beer, back at the club. "Nope. Vampires.
Real."
He swallowed half
his own beer and panted for a second. Then he
looked around
warily. "Are these vampires, then?" He whispered,
leaning across
the small round table.
She laughed.
"No, these are wanna-be's. Vampires love them though.
That's why I come
here a lot. These people ever see what a vampire
could really do …
they'd die of shock." She sipped. "Or bloodloss."
Will rubbed his
hand over his face. He saw the man … no the vampire,
exploding in his
mind again. He shook his head.
The vampire.
The VAMPIRE!!!
Fucking bloody
fucking …
He gulped down
more beer.
"So … what,
you do these tours?" he asked when he got a breath.
She laughed
again. "Try to do one every night. Trying to erase all
that Anne Rice
vampires are tortured souls crap. I take one, maybe
two people out.
Different cemeteries, places I know the vamps are
hiding. Don't
want them all to know."
"All these
people?"
"All the
vampires. They find out who I am … I wont be hunting them
anymore."
"You hunt
them." He stated.
"Yep."
"I'm having
beer with a vampire hunter. Great."
She flicked her
hair back. "Vampire Slayer."
"Oh, I'm
sorry."
"You're
taking this better than most people do."
"No I'm
really not."
He saw the golden
eyes flare up behind his eyelids.
"They're
evil. Aren't they." He said, not a question. He'd seen that
face.
"Very. Don't
go looking for vampires. And hey, try to spread the
word." She
frowned. "But don't try to kill them. I mean, carry some
holy water with
you at night, and maybe a stake if people have been
disappearing… but
don't go looking for them."
"Why do
you?"
"I'm a
slayer, I was born to do this."
Born to … slay
vampires.
Vampires.
His brain kept
sliding off the word like it was melting ice.
"So what,
you signed up for this."
He watched her
fiddle with the condensation sliding down her glass
as she talked.
"Nope,
destiny did." She smiled, big white teeth. She was perfectly
fine, calm.
"I quite like it though."
"How can you
… fight so well?"
"Well I was
trained. But I'm also super strong." She said perkily,
sarcastically.
Will raised his
eyebrow. "So … you're like a… Superman?"
"Uh… kinda.
Really strong."
"Are
vampires strong?"
"Yes."
"What
else?"
"Very, very
dangerous."
"Ah. Do they
… drink blood?"
"Bodies
full." She said, smiling. "But that's why there's me."
"And …
they're dead."
"Walking
dead. Living impaired."
"I
see." He sipped his drink. "I'm insane."
She threw her
head back and laughed. "I'm Faith."
"William.
Thanks for … tonight, by the way."
"It's cool.
Don't mention it. And you're buying the drinks."
Will had no
problem with that. He was asking every question that
flittered into
his mind. He'd seen it, and he'd felt some of the ash
when that …
thing, had exploded but his mind was still screaming
practical joke.
Illusion.
He knew it wasn't
though.
"Are there
lots of vampires?"
"Yes.
Lots." She said nodding her head. "Evil."
Will was suddenly
struck by a thought. If vampires exist … "Do
werewolves exist
too?"
"Yes. Killed
one once."
"Bullocks."
He breathed, trying not to imagine what a werewolf
looked like.
"Yeah. Scary
things."
He laughed a little,
wide eyed and signalling for another
round.
"Vampires are scary too."
"Not if you
see them as much as me."
"What
about…. Zombies?"
"Yes…"
She laughed again.
"Demons?"
"Yep."
"Fucking
hell."
"Yep, pretty
sure that's down there too."
Will just nodded.
"Vampires?" He needed clarification. He needed …
Something. It
seemed like more beer was what he needed right now.
"Vampires."
She nodded faux-sadly.
That did it. He
sipped the last of his beer and signalled for
another one.
Faith the vampire slayer. Fucking hell.
"Vampires
exist." He said out loud, trying the words out. "They are
the walking dead
and they are real."
Faith shook her
head snorting at him.
"How can we
… how can humans compete against that? And zombies and …
wolfmen or whatever.
I mean, we're fucked!"
"That's why
there's me." She repeated.
"How many
slayers are there?"
She sat back at
little. "Just one."
"But… But
…" That wasn't enough! "There were two vampires today."
"And they're
both dead. Well dust."
He started thinking
about all the vampire movies he'd watched in his
teenage years. He
wondered how much of all that stuff was true. He
wondered if the
writers had actually seen a vampire.
"Are they
afraid of garlic?"
"They're not
fans."
"What about
the cross?"
"Hate
it."
"And they're
strong."
"Yes. And
evil and fast, and they bite and drink blood. They sleep
during the day,
they can cross running water, they can't come in
unless you invite
them and they have no reflection. Oh … and they
don't turn into
bats."
Will nodded.
"They can't … go out in the daytime?"
"No."
Will clasped his
hands together nervously for a few seconds. "Good."
"So, now you
know. Don't be stupid. Don't go into graveyards at
night, don't hang
around by yourself at night, try to carry some
protection with
you and don't invite strangers into your house if
they come at
night."
Realisation
dawned on Will. Strangers coming to the door at night.
His blood turned
to ice water in his veins and made him dizzy.
Liam.
"Liam!"
"Sorry?"
Faith asked confused.
"Liam wasn't
lying. They were vampires! Holy … fu … d!" He panted
and tried to keep
his brain in his head. It seriously felt like it
was slipping out
through his ears.
"What?"
She said, more irritated.
"Liam's the
one who told me to look up vampires. He said they killed
his family."
"They do
that."
He leant over the
table earnestly. "They're not mindless animals,
are they? Do they
kill … for fun?"
"Most, some
are worse than others. No one can really work out why
some just eat for
food and why some like pain. Might be the people
inside before
they died. Might be the demon after."
"Liam ...
said one, uh, he had a relationship with one." He said,
thinking back to
the fangs.
"A
relationship?" She frowned, doubt sneering her lips.
"Yes, he had
an affair and then it became violent and obsessive."
She nodded,
raising her eyebrows. "That's starting to sound more
like a vampire.
Probably playing with him. Then killed his family."
Will nodded.
"And obviously left him alive."
"Yes."
She shrugged but
looked sympathetic. "Vampires are eternal, they
spice things up
for themselves."
"The things
they did…"
"I know what
they can do."
He looked at her.
She was young. Younger than him, early twenties.
But she carried
herself like someone older. The things she'd seen,
had to deal with.
He couldn't
imagine living her life, no matter how suited she seemed
to it.
"Where's
your friend now?" She asked, downing the rest of her beer.
Will looked down.
"In psychiatric care."
She nodded and
smiled sadly. "I'm sorry. For him and you. Did he see
what they
did?"
Will swallowed.
"They made him participate."
"And it
drove him insane." She nodded looking into her empty
glass.
"That's rough."
Will nodded, his
mind bubbling with what Liam had been through, and
after all of it,
be punished for it – when he had committed no
unforgivable
crime, certainly not murder.
"I've seen
that a few times. The things they do … they're psychos."
Her eyes went a
little wide. "Um. No offence to your friend or
anything."
Will didn't even
hear her. He rubbed his face again.
"I'm gonna
go patrol again, see if I can catch anymore." She stood
and flicked her
jacket on. "Tell your friend that I believe him.
They normally
like to hear that."
She made her way
out the door. Will sat stunned for a second before
flying out the
doors, looking round the dark street with new fear in
his eyes, before
jumping into his car and driving as fast as he
could to Liam. He
had to know if Liam had seen the same things he
had.