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Title: Elusive Lover
Author: Spyke Raven
Pairing: Withheld
Rating: NC-17
Setting: As you like. See Author's notes.


*Maybe this is all I ever wanted.*

*Maybe this is all I deserve.*

"Come closer," he whispers through the barrier of glass. "Closer. I can't touch you when you're so far away."

*No.* I am already shaking my head in denial. "No," I say it out loud to reinforce my belief, but unfortunately both he and I can hear the upswing in the tone, the definite note of fascination and - dare I say it - need?

He smiles slowly, lips curving into a predatory grin meant to bare the fangs in a vampire display of dominance. Right, and now I should just fall to my knees and let him take me?

Shit, my knees are weakening.

This is not happening.

"Yes it is," he croons, beckoning with a finger. "C'mon. I won't hurt you."

"You always do," I retort lamely.

He shakes his head. "No. Not tonight. Tonight, I want us to be together. One person."

I shiver thinking of it. He in me and I, I in him as well...

But he's not the kind to take it up the ass. Fat chance of me coming out on top.

Still... there are definite shivers going up and down my spine. Damn this flesh for wanting this. For wanting him.

Anathema. Abomination. If I've learnt the lesson once, I've learnt it a thousand times. He and I don't mix. We're fire and water-

"Oil on flame," he purrs. Of course the bastard knows exactly what I'm thinking. He always does. Part of his fucking seductive charm.

Now my mind is running away with thoughts of the conflagration we could ignite together. Sweet slow love. Hard and fast fucking, mental and physical.

" Let me in. Let me touch you."

Nuh-uh. I shake my head. You got to stay right where you are. And that's already too close.

"Alright then," he smiles knowingly, and his hands drop to the fly buttons on his jeans.

Of course mine follow suit. Bastard. He knows that I have to follow where he leads. He's my dark half, my twin, the dirty secret that I have to hide from the world.

Fuck him.

"Oh yes," he says softly, fingers teasing open one button at a time."Precisely."

Aah... I can't help the sigh that escaped my lips just about then. I prefer women's bodies for beauty and sheer delicacy, but the economical lines of his frame are extremely pleasing to the eye. Swift, clean and brutal, his is a killer's body, designed precisely for the use it is put to, the ending of life and the taking of blood.

"We're a lot alike, you know." His eyes are roving over my body, devouring the exposed tumescence that rivals his own erection. "You and me... we really are almost the same."

Almost, but not quite. Strangely enough, we do look rather alike, though in another sense, it isn't strange, as we're both male, both vampires, both (at present) rampantly erect. Still, as I said, he holds himself with grace and pride whereas I...

"You slouch." He makes a move of disgust, his finger trailing slowly up and down the underside of his cock. My eyes follow him avariciously,feeling the sensation of his - no, my finger on my own member. The sensation is almost painful, or is it just the hurt he causes me with his callous words?

"You do slouch. You fold in on yourself and refuse to display those lovely shoulders, as though your physique were something to be ashamed of, instead of my lovely little fuck toy."

My hand foolishly stills, in the very act of grasping my cock. His *what*?

"I do love screwing you," he continues conversationally. "I love entering your mind and your body. I adore fucking with your whims and perverting your desires. I love playing with your cock - not that it happens very often - and I love hearing the sounds you make when you're about to come. Most of all, I love knowing that it's all because of me that you're close,so close to the edge, so *fucking* close to giving up and becoming -"

"NO!"

"- becoming like me, just like me," he says implacably. "You need me,Angel. You don't even jerk off unless I'm there to provide the necessary stimulation. You, sir, are a fucking piece of shit, who should be ashamed to call himself undead."

I'm angry now, he always makes me angry. "And you? Like you're some goddamn role model? You sail through life like the world is your oyster and never even stop to think about the pain your deeds cause others. People die, and you laugh. You refuse to care about anything or anyone but yourself.Why the fuck do you insist on coming here to haunt me anyway? You know I'm never gonna let you in. Do me and the world a big fucking favour and get the hell out of my life."

"Why?" he spits contemptuously. "So that you can hang around with those pathetic mortal gits and pretend you're human? Fat chance, son. Your behaviour doesn't reflect well on me at all and I'm going to keep coming back until you remember what you're missing."

I close my eyes to block out the memories he evokes. Us hunting. Together.Feeling the hot rush of blood, the thrill of pain. Inhaling the scent ofthe endorphin cocktail released by mortals on the cusp of death.

The fucking pleasure I take - took, used to take in it all.

My treacherous hand strokes me upright again. He laughs, and I open my eyes.

"You enjoy that," he says with amusement and some arousal. His erection is painfully evident, and he appears to be doing his best to relieve the pain.

"This would be a lot more fun if you'd just come down here and take care of this for me."

He surprises me into laughing. "Right. When pigs can fly."

"Umm..." He's not been listening to me of course. So what else is new? Funnily enough, I don't really care. I'm fascinated by the way his tongue pokes slyly out of his lips as he moves his hand up and down, up and down...

I start to find that I've been echoing his movements. Of course I have. No one ever affects me as powerfully as he can. No one ever will.

*Control yourself. Breathe hard. *

With an effort of will I never knew I had, I stop my hand, stop all emotion and watch impassive as he coaxes himself into oblivion and beyond.

His face thrown back in a rictus of pleasure, his hand gripped firmly around himself... he is beautiful and hard and the perfect complement to my needs.

Treacherous thoughts. I tamp down hard, blessing tai chi and the Eastern disciplines for the degree of control it gives me over my physical responses.

He returns to the world and puts his relatively flaccid member away safely. I find myself wishing those buttons would miraculously turn into a zipper with sharp teeth, but of course that doesn't happen.

"Tut tut. That's your unsatisfied libido talking, Angel." His smile is maddening. "If only you'd come with me..." He winks suggestively and presses his lips against the glass in an exaggerated parody of arousal.

That does it. I turn on my heel and leave the room, leave the portal that brings us face to face. Immediately, and half sobbing in my room,I bring myself to hardness and achieve a quick orgasm.

There. Done it. Satisfied, you bastard?

"No," he calls to me, his voice ringing with truth. "No, I am NOT satisfied,Angel. Come here and I'll tell you why."

No. I shake my head and bite down on the pillow. No, you do not get to come in.

"I need to be inside you, Angel. Let me come in." Insistent and low. I can't deny that I am what he wants. I'm also what he's never going to get.

"Alright then." Already his voice is softer, fading away. Resist temptation,that's the key. Don't face it for long enough, and it leaves.

"Fine. I'm going. But I'll be back, Angel. And one day, one day you're going to give in to me."

No. No I am not. Not to you, you filth.

"Filth, am I?" He sounds strangely disappointed, but demons don't have feelings.

"Au contraire, Angel."

I will not give him the satisfaction of a reply. But he doesn't even wait for one before starting his final tirade.

"When are you going to give up this stupid game, huh? When are you going to face the truth? Answer me, damn you! I know you're listening to me."

No I'm not. I'm not listening to you.

"How long you going to run from me, Angel? I'm always there. Every time you look in the mirror, I'm going to be there, staring right back at you.As long as it takes for you to see the truth and let me in."

"Let me in, Angel. You know it's inevitable. Why prolong this."

Stay out. Stay out of my mind, damn you. You don't belong there.

"Let me in..." Soft now, echoes fading 'let me in, in, in...'

No. I'm shaking my head in refusal for the nth time tonight. I'll never let you in again, Angelus. I'm stronger than you. I'm not you.

Softer still, an echo on the wind, the one word he always ends our conversations with.

Liar.

~ End.

***********************************************

Author's notes -
1.There you have it friends; Angel/Angelus slash. For those who didn't get it, I failed on the author/reader interface.

2.This story actually sprang from two thoughts. First, vampires don't have reflections, right? So what does Angel see when he looks in a mirror? Maybe, just maybe he sees the inverse of who he is. Maybe he sees Angelus.The second thought was inadvertently provided by VickiB (thanks so much!).Inadvertently, so please don't kill her. She wrote "he and Angelus share the same memories - hence Angelus' ability to taunt Buffy post "Innocence" and, of course, Angel's permanent state of angst over Angelus' deeds. " That sentence kind of added to the first train of thought, and 'Elusive Lover' was born.


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