Open on SundayWord count:
“Angelus liked to bugger the boy on Sundays; it was another way to spit in the face of God.”Warnings:
blasphemy. A lot.Disclaimer:
The boys and girls belong to Joss, even though I’m often much nicer to them than he is.Author’s Notes:
This was written for open_on_sunday
’s four-hundredth prompt, open/Sunday
Angelus liked to bugger the boy on Sundays; it was another way to spit in the face of God. He had him on other nights and days, of course – made William suck blood off his fingers while the victim gasped her last breath beside them, fucked him while Dru screamed into Darla’s mouth, had him kneel before cathedral altars and let go of his purity.
But Sundays were precious. Dru was usually more abstracted than usual while the church bells tolled, while Darla sneered at the sound. Angelus called the boy with a brusque gesture and settled between his thighs.~*~
William opened for him with a soft sigh. His lips stayed parted, and Angelus’ mouth curled in response: however much William huffed and puffed and sulked and strayed, he wanted this.
Angelus slid his fingers through the oil jar and pressed his slick fingers between William’s cheeks. He watched the blue eyes close, the mouth twitch, as he oiled William.
And then it began: forcing his way in while William twitched and bit down on his cries and finally vamped out, raging. Angelus laughed and kept going, fucking him until he was left open and sloppy and full of come. ~*~
By the fourth time Angelus was panting like a bellows and William was whimpering. He’d grown to enjoy his times with Angelus: it was part of the depravity William was trying so hard to embrace. But by now he was sore and hurting, his chest shuddering under Angelus’ as he thrust.
William glared, his cheeks blooming red. Angelus chuckled. “Still blushing like a deflowered virgin? But then that’s the pleasure of you.”
William started to wriggle, so Angelus quite unfairly bit him. Blood of the son indeed –
They came together to the sound of the evening mass bells.