Pairing: Angel/Connor; A/S, Connor/Faith, Connor/Faith/Buffy implied
Length: 1,636 words
Warnings: slash, incest--seriously, I do not shy away from it here.
Disclaimer: All belongs to Joss, ME and such; all for fun, not for profit.
A/N: written for stoney321, whose birthday is today.
He found Angel five years later at a Holiday Inn in Philadelphia.
“Hey,” Connor said as he walked into the room, his rental car keys still dangling from his hand. “I've kinda been looking for you.”
Angel's eyes just flickered briefly up at him as he sat on the edge of the newly made bed.
“How do you handle the maid service thing anyway?”
“Go down to the bar.”
And yeah, Connor caught a whiff of whiskey over the burnt coffee smell that seemed to haunt the bathroom. He threw the keys, not too hard, onto the business traveller's desk and sat down next to him. “That sounds like a life. What else you do?”
“Sleep. Watch TV.”
Connor shrugged, leaned over to the nightstand and picked up the remote, flipped channels until he found ESPN. “Okay, sounds like a plan.”
They caught the last half of the Stanford game. They blew it big time in the fourth quarter, each play getting just that more desperate and asinine. “Gotta love'em. When they fuck up, they fuck up.”
By that time, Connor had kicked off his shoes, folded his arms behind his head, and leaned against the headboard. He'd taken all the pillows to make himself all comfortable since Angel didn't need them. He still sat at the foot of the bed.
“You never used to talk that way.”
“Well, college'll put a mouth on a guy. Try staying at the dorms without getting 'fuck' hammered into your vocabulary.”
Angel said nothing. Connor stared at his back for a while, the slope of his shoulders. Guy was seriously slumming it and still managed to do it in a dress shirt.
“I graduated, by the way. Last year. Wanna hear what I'm going to do with my life?”
Angel's shoulders straightened, but he still said nothing. The announcers were still analyzing the game. Connor pressed the 'mute' button.
“Faith showed up. Brought a blonde chick with her.”
Ka-ching. That made him turn his ass around.
Connor smiled. “Me? I've always liked the brunettes.”
Angel's eyes narrowed. “She dyes it.”
“Faith? Naw, she's 100% brunette.” Connor leaned back a little farther and grinned. “Drapes, carpet, everything.”
Before even his funky superpowers could react, Angel grabbed the remote out of Connor's hand and threw it through the bedside lamp. Only half of the remote remained visible in the wall. “And the friend? The 'blonde chick'?”
Connor plucked the remote out, got a bit of plaster and wallpaper under his nails. Dust fluttered to the obnoxiously red carpet. “There goes your room deposit.”
Whatever life anger had pumped into him crawled off and died. Angel's hands dropped, stricken by gravity. “Why'd you have to grow up like him? God, you sound just like him.”
Apparently Angel got around or prophecies were cheaper than he thought. “I've got a brother or something? You're fucking kidding me.”
Creatures of the night have a freaking warped sense of humor because Angel just busted out laughing. He laughed until he fell off the bed.
“Are you stoned or something? The day I'm having? Dude, I could seriously use some of that shit.”
Somehow this made Angel laugh even more.
“Unless you've got some beer stashed in your mini fridge, I'm calling room service.”
Angel gasped for breath. Even the undead needed some air for words or something. “Okay,” he said from the floor, “put it on my card.”
“You buying? I am so ordering fries.”
After three orders of fries, of which Angel tried a nibble of one, and what amounted to two six-packs, Connor said, “How about some pay-per-view?”
“I've seen it all.”
Connor raised an eyebrow. “Even the porn?”
The buttons didn't work too well on the remote anymore, but Connor managed to order up some porn anyway.
Angel didn't stop him.
They watched for a while, blue light flickered around the room, until Connor finally said, “We dropped her off at the hotel.”
Angel said nothing.
“You know, the blonde, the other slayer. If that's what you were worried about. Heard you two used to be a thing.”
Angel closed his eyes, opened them again, stared at the girl-on-girl action on the screen.
“Just a graduation present. One-time deal, okay? Faith's kinda that way.” He paused. “It was nice.”
Connor knew enough not to say that yes, they dropped her off at the hotel, but they followed her in. They'd gone up to the room and...partied...quite a bit, the three of them. They all got their freak on, but yeah, Connor knew enough to leave that part out. Yeah, it was nice and...oh shit...there came the hard-on. But yeah, a six-pack and some porn, shouldn't be an issue...
And, fuck, if Angel didn't have one too.
Now the guy-code specifically stated that they were each supposed to ignore this. Even if they both felt comfortable enough to whip it out, they were supposed to ignore it. Eye contact? A big no.
So of course they had to get all weird and look at each other.
And this was the part where he was supposed to laugh and say, 'Okay, weird.' Jack off to the movie maybe.
This was not the the part where he looked into those brown eyes and saw Father and Quartoth and Cordy. This was not the part where he looked and saw little league and mountain biking and 'Daddy's not done talking yet.'
This was not the part where he felt his head on the wall, blood in his mouth and Angel pressed against his back.
None of these things happened and all of them did.
And he just grabbed the back of that large head and dove in. Because if he was going to fuck up, he was going to do it royally. Dude tongue? Who gave a fuck?
Well, Connor did and that was the point.
They were both hard, porn and memory and their hands. Just a big fucking mess. Connor wasn't much of a talker, but Angel was less. Just a big fucking blur until Connor found himself poised on his knees behind Angel on the bed, Angel's bare ass in the air.
And shit, what was he supposed to do? He ignored the shrill voice in his head that told him to slam it in, hurt the fucker, make him bleed, he deserves it.
But this was Angel, whose eyes crinkled up at the words dad and father. Angel, whose one hand shoved him down while the other...
Angel's face hidden in his arms, Connor only saw the back of his head nod and the pillow with it.
“Can't do this dry...” Oh yes, he could. Right there. Make him hurt. But maybe, just maybe that's what Angel wanted. “Look, I need...”
Angel's left hand shot out and pointed at the nightstand.
Inside, he found a bible, Burger King napkins and Lubriderm.
Connor stroked Angel's back while he fumbled with the lotion. “You sure...?”
The pillow nodded again.
It should have been hard. But four, five pushes and he was in and oh god so tight never felt so tight so good ah fuck just go and he was bucking back and the noise oh god and should just yeah tried to reach but Angel slapped him away...
Couldn't hold back just let it all go just balls slapping, tightening and fuck...
He had slammed Angel so far forward that his head cracked the headboard in two, even with the pillow, even with Angel's hands gripping...
“You didn't come.”
There they were, collapsed on the bed, Connor not even wanting to look at his own dick. Angel was still hard.
“No! Fuck you, no. You're not going to...”
“Connor, it's okay.” Angel leaned over and kissed him and started jacking himself off. Connor's eyes were closed but he could feel the even strokes of the arm between them.
“I know how to do that,” Connor said pulling away.
“No, it's better this...” Angel said leaning in again.
“Shut. Up.” And Connor leaned back in, his arm making the even motions now. “You don't always get to say, got it?”
Angel only nodded.
A few strokes in, Connor decided, fuck it, blow job it is.
“Shut up. It won't be the best you ever had in your life.”
Whether it was or wasn't, Connor never found out because a few licks and one tentative suck in and Angel came.
“Huh. I guess I swallow.”
“Oh Connor, I'm so sorry...”
“What? It wasn't that bad. I can see why girls get used to it...”
And Angel rolled over, bare ass in the air again.
“Angel, don't. I swear to god, don't you fucking get emo over this.” Connor needed a beer, and thank god there were a few strays littered around the room. He took a swig. “Get up. Angel, get up. Now.”
Angel rolled back over, faced him. Sure enough his eyes were all misty.
“First, you take a shower. Then me. Then we'll get dressed and we'll get out of here. Got it?”
Angel nodded, slowly, and sat up. Without a word he walked his bare ass into the bathroom and quietly closed the door. Connor heard the hiss of shower spray.
He sat back, watched Nancy or Jenny or whoever was on the screen give head to this massive block of a guy. Dick out to here. Took another swig. Looked hard again. He was a quick study and technique...he could see technique everywhere.
Waited to feel bad. He felt...bad didn't describe it. He knew bad and this wasn't it.
He didn't wait for Angel to finish his shower.