by Te
July 2000

Disclaimers: If they were mine, they'd eventually grow accustomed
to my brand of justice. And mercy.

Spoilers: None, really.

Summary: Angel muses on Xander.

Ratings Note: NC-17 for smut and language.

Authors' Note: This is for my pretty Chelle, because it's her
birthday and she's very cute. Wish her a happy, y'all.

Acknowledgments: To Deb, for purring at me.


He has a beautiful cock. Tucked away under layers of baggy and often
eye-hurting clothes, nestled against a surprisingly spare brush of dark
hair. And he said: "I shaved it once. Just once. Just to see. And my
follicles got angry and didn't come back. But my y chromosome did
kick in. It did."

And it's half-joking but also half-real. As if he's been mocked for
this, too.

Jealousy. His cock is thick and heavy, long enough, discreetly veined.
A tease made for a vampire.

Sometimes I want to go back and hurt everyone who has hurt him,
including myself. Most of the time a part of me thanks all of them,
bears deep gratitude for every blow and remark.

If Xander wasn't so desperate for affection, would he even be

When I take him in my mouth he moans and shudders, unprepared for
my touch and the cold. It must be as if the air has  shaped itself to
form this mouth to suck him, these hands to stroke and tease and hold
him there, right there.

I want him to open his eyes, see me doing this...

I want to forget he's anything but this cock, this impossible heat in
my mouth, this raw taste of need.

When he runs his fingers through my hair once, twice, restlessly
before simply grabbing hold I lose the disembodied fantasy and find
the Xander again. Flushed now, blood pulsing close to the surface of

Long legs in motion, trying to leverage past my hold on his hips.
Shoulders and arms tensed as he fists the sheets. I'm brutal with
 him when I do this, let my teeth graze more than I should.

He likes it and I need it.

Need to know he won't be fucking Anya for a day, perhaps even two
or three after I finally let him go.

Illusory possession, a sop to both my demon and myself. The truth is
that he'll slip out of my arms sometime during the afternoon when I
am dozing. We'll both pretend I'm asleep when he brushes his lips
over my cheek, and then he'll be gone, before anyone knows he's been

Back home perhaps before anyone knows he's gone.

And I.... I want to be discovered. Want this hopelessness, too, to be
a part of his life. He'll never truly have me but everyone will know
that I have him. That I've *had* him. I dream of it making him more
desperate to get through to me, more determined to hurt me, caress
me, try to make me scream.

I dream of Anya leaving him, of Xander joining me here.

I would take him aside at last, teach him how to fight. Wesley could
teach him, too. Cordelia could provide her sharp-edged dose of... of
as close to reality as we seem to get.

I would feed from his wounds and urge him toward more. Mark him

Tomorrow... tomorrow, perhaps, I won't pretend to doze at all. Make
him leave with my eyes hard on him, my body still rolled in his scent.
Make him stay long enough for *someone* to find out.

Someone who will tell.

I force his his hips to thrust harder, faster than he can manage
himself and he cries out, thrashes. Calls my name and comes, falling
limp in my arms almost immediately save for the tiny aftershocks that
make him gasp as I lick my way up and off his cock. His body is silent
permission and I take it, losing a bit of myself to the demon as I
slash a small cut on his forearm with my teeth.

Lose more when I taste him, when I instinctively clamp on and have to
force myself to be gentle again.

I kiss him slow, letting him taste his own come and blood and I can
hear his heart trip a little and I pull away before I start to tear
at his mouth. So hard with mortals, not to hurt them too much,
turning every relationship into sadomasochism for them and still
not getting enough...

I do my best not to let my gaze linger on his throat. Mostly

I hold him, cooling over-heated skin with my touch.

I will have him again very soon.