I Know What You Like

Title: I Know What You Like
Author: PokerKitten
Setting: 1890/2004
Smut_69 challenge prompt word: #56 Cyber
Disclaimer: Joss, ME, Fox yadayada own the characters; I'm just messin'.
My Smut Table



I Know What You Like


He was going to have to have a quiet word with the IT section. Or maybe Fred. Wouldn't do to reveal his technophobia to all and sundry; word travelled fast at Wolfram and Hart.

Angel gave a start as the computer pinged and sang to him again.

You've Got Mail!

He'd never even wanted his own personal email account, damn it; the interminable work messages were more than enough to wade through each day, never mind the stream of mail offering penis extensions and access to hot demon porn!

With a weary sigh, he clicked on the latest arrival and prepared to delete.

From: Inner Voice – I Know…

Frowning, he read on.

I know what you like

***

He'd intended to delete it and give it no more thought, really he had, but there'd been that meeting and somehow he hadn't quite gotten round to it. And now there was another message waiting for him.

From: Inner Voice – I know what…

I know what you need


Who was doing this? And why? He didn't have time for this, he should flag all messages from Inner Voice as spam and consign them to his junk mail. And yet… Shit, the sender was online right now!

From: Inner Voice – In control…

In control but out of control.


Angel narrowed his eyes, sat back in his chair.

Dark, dirty. But that's not all…

Nothing specific in the words; anyone knowing even a little of his past could make these assumptions. So why did Inner Voice disturb him so goddamn much?!

You miss it, don't you?

He knew he shouldn't give them the satisfaction, but his fingers had other ideas, it seemed. Angel found himself hunching forward again, hitting the keys. Who are you? What do I miss? The response came flying back in less than a minute.

The power. The pain.

Oh, now they were getting to it! Someone, some thing, was trying to provoke him; remind him of who he was, what he had been. As if he could ever forget! It had haunted him, tormented him, for a century. He still lived with it day and night. But particularly at night, he reflected, when he was alone in the penthouse, lying quiet and still in his too-large bed, the battles and machinations of another Wolfram and Hart day behind him. There was nothing anyone could do or say to make him feel any worse about it, any more guilty. Utterly futile for anyone to try to goad him, unsettle him in this way.

The freedom to be yourself.

Remember when the night belonged to you?


Glancing through the open doorway, Angel watched as the foyer emptied, people heading off home to their other lives; saw Gunn and Wes deep in conversation by the elevator door, Spike sitting alone in the reception area, back to him. The ever-present thorn in his side, his conscience pricker.

Of course he remembered…

The sharp pain of his nails digging into the flesh of his palms brought him back to himself. Turning again to the computer screen, he shook his head. He would have Fred run a check on the messages in the morning and track down the culprit. Probably just some jerk within the company anyway, and they would be dealt with easily enough.

He was on the point of logging out of his account when one more message appeared.

I remember too.

Dreamt about Pisa the other night…


What? No! Angel leapt to his feet, raced to the door…

***

1890

They ran at breakneck speed through the cobbled streets, faces stretched in wicked grins, only slowing as they reached the wide open spaces surrounding the impressive duomo.

"You're drunk!" William declared, still laughing, doubled over, one hand reaching out to steady himself on the cool white marble of the Tower.

"So are you!"

"Drunk on nuns, you are! So much for Catholic guilt!"

"Guilt isn't in our vocabulary, Will" Angelus smirked. "And I never was a good little Catholic boy…"

"Well, I prefer my virgins spilling out of their bodices and eager to lose it. But each to their own."

"Aye, each to their own" Angelus repeated, clapping Will on the back. He cocked his head to one side, listening. "We lost them. Not that it matters. We're a match for anyone tonight."

"Any night" William affirmed, straightening up, a glint in his eye. "Liam?"

"Angelus to you" he mock-growled, cuffing his lad round the ear.

William stood his ground. "I'm still as hard as a rock!"

"Are ya now?" Angelus laughed. "Insatiable is what you are!"

"And I'll prove it" William boasted, tearing off his shirt.

Angelus watched, lips twitching, as William hopped about on first one foot, then the other, pulling off his boots. The lad loved to be naked in the cool night air, relished the caress of a warm spring breeze wrapping itself round his entire body. And Angelus loved how he loved it! So full of energy, vitality. So fucking irresistable!

"Join me" William challenged, working at the buttons of his pants. "Show me what you've got!"

"You know what I've got, Will. You've had it in you and up you often enough." But he began stripping off his shirt all the same.

Throwing back his head, spreading his arms wide, William's voice rang around the Campo dei Miracoli. "Never enough."

No, never enough. Angelus could never have his fill of William, either. It was a weakness, he knew, to enjoy him so much; to crave him like this. But seeing him stand lean and proud, moonlight gleaming off his pale skin, he was damn hard to resist.

"Beautiful " he murmured, reaching out and running one finger up the underside of William's cock, as hard and erect as he had promised.

William swayed, shuddered, then with a whoop he was off and running again, the delicious feel of the dewy grass between his toes. Reaching the outer walls of the camposanto, he shouldered his way through the nearest doorway and stopped dead in his tracks. He could hear Angelus giving chase, exciting him all the more, but for a moment, just one moment the poet inside was compelled to drink in the sight. The central lawn, the inner courtyard, rounded arches with delicate mullions and decorative tracery.

“Has to be the most beautiful cemetery in the world.” Angelus came up behind him, pressed against him, wrapped his arms around William's slender frame.

"Hell, yes" William sighed, pushing back into Angelus' embrace, closing his eyes as his grandsire's hands stroked down his belly, took a firm hold of his cock; inclined his head to expose his neck to the licks of his tongue, the nibbles of his teeth.

"Just wait 'til you see the frescos. Breathtaking." Angelus' body gently shook against Will's as he laughed at the incongruity. "Well, for those that have the breath, at any rate."

"Show me."

"What, now?" He rubbed his groin against William's bare buttocks, his erection thick and hard in his pants. "Don't we have more pressing business?" To emphasise the point, he slid his left hand down lower, cupping William's heavy balls, squeezing gently as he flicked the fingertips of his right across the sensitive head of his cock.

William moaned, knees sagging a little, body throbbing in response to the uncommonly tender touches. "Maybe so…"

"Only maybe?" Angelus slowly manoeuvred him round in his arms until he faced him; bent and kissed him, long and hard and deep. Still locked together, Angelus backed him up against the edge of the nearest tomb, until the cold stone bit roughly into the lad's cheeks. Disentangling himself, he fished around in his pocket, pulled out a little bottle, enjoying the look of wild-eyed need William threw him. "Here" he said, voice low. "A little something to ease the way." As he unbuttoned himself, William snatched the bottle from him, poured a little of the liquid into the palm of his hand. "That's it" he encouraged, as William wrapped his fist around his cock, coating it from balls to head as he worked his way up. "Feels good." Planting his palm against William's chest he pushed him down onto the slab. "And now your turn."

"Hurry!" William gasped, as Angelus spread his legs and stepped between them.

"Almost ready" he soothed, guiding his cock to William's ring, pressing against him but without the force to penetrate, dribbling a litle oil directly from the bottle onto William's twitching member. "Tell me the truth" he continued as he fingered him. "You want me more than all those tasty little virgins, don't you?"

"I do! You know I do! Just fuck me, you bastard!" he begged.

"But really, you want to fuck me, don't you? You want to be the one spreading my cheeks, thrusting up into me, don't you?"

"God, yes! But you never let…"

"Well then" Angelus laughed, pulling away. "Catch me and you can!" And with that he was off, racing between the tombs, dodging through the archways, erection bobbing and slapping against his belly as he ran.

William was left panting and sprawling on the slab, incredulous. Angelus had never permitted it before, why would he now?

"Come and take me" Angelus called back. "Or aren't you man enough for the job?"

He couldn't just leave him like this, balls so tight, cock so hard he felt he would burst if he didn't have him! Fuck it, he would have him one way or another! He would come and come hard with their bodies tangled together and that's all that mattered. Not caring now if Angelus' intention was to humiliate him, beat him, take him more fiercely and cruelly than he ever had before, he scrambled to his feet and took off after him, the taunts ringing in his ears.

"Must have been wrong. All you're good for is taking it like a girl." Angelus scanned the fresco-lined walkway. No sign of him. "Come on Will, don't disappoint me" he muttered to himself. "Don't look a gift horse in the… Ah!" He caught his scent, all adrenalin and lust, but still couldn't see him. "Little boy lost!" he shouted. "Mamma's little…"

But suddenly William was upon him, a blur of motion and muscles, slamming him face forward into the painted wall. The impact broke his skin, a warm stream of blood making its way from his brow and cheekbone, seeping into the pigment.

"Come on then, show me what you're made of!" Angelus grunted as he felt William tugging down his breeches. "Do it!" William kicked his legs apart. "Hate me with everything you've got, mummy's boy!"

Powerful hands grabbed him by the hips, jerked him backwards, made him double over. Angelus flung out his palms, hit the wall to stop himself falling. "Hate me!" he urged, as something hard and slick pushed between his cheeks.

"I. Don't. Hate. You." Every word punctuated with a thrust. "I. Don't. Hate. You… Uuh!"

"Holy fuck!" Angelus groaned as William's grip bruised his flesh; as he forced his way inside. "Fuck!" It had been a long time since he'd felt this fire, this hot, burning pain in his backside. So long infact that he'd almost forgotten his father's words, spat out as he spasmed inside him. 'You hateful, worthless little shit. This is all you're good for!'

"I. Don't. Hate. You!" William yelled as his thrusts came faster, harder. "Nor. You. Me."

But it hadn't felt like this back then. As the force of William's pounding brought them both to their knees, something seemed to snap in his brain, break free, drift away.

"I don't hate you" William almost sobbed in his ear, his movements becoming more controlled, his touch more considered. "You know I don't."

"I know it, Will". He sagged down onto the flagstones, relaxing into the rhythm.

"We're good for each other."

"That we are, Will." He closed his eyes, easing back as William pushed forward, allowing himself to enjoy the pressure, to feel the pleasure of the deep stimulation.

"I've wanted this for so long."

"Then take your time, Will." He shivered, William's cock and fingers now stroking him inside and out, bringing him close, but not too close. No, it had never felt like this; and he didn't want it to end.

"If this is what you like, we can make it last out the night" William promised, slowly rotating his hips as he pulled back a little.

"But when the sun rises…"

"We'll hide out in a tomb. Plenty to choose from."

Both laughing softly, they rocked and swayed together, overlooked by the tormented figures, the mounds of corpses, in the Trionfo della Morte. The Triumph of Death.

***

…but he was gone, laptop abandoned on the low coffee table.

Angel had never felt more alone as he made his way up to the penthouse.

Until he sensed him ahead of him in the darkness; as he watched him turn away from the window.

"Yeah, I remember."




get this gear!

Turn The Page

Spangelus!
Poetic Justice Home