The Ungodly

Author: Cerisaye
Pairing: Angelus/William, Angelus/Dru, Angelus/Darla
Rating: R, m/m scenes of a sexual nature
Summary: Scenes from the home life of a vampire family
Disclaimer; No, not mine. Only having fun. With respect for the characters and the original writers.
Spoilers: some for S5 'Destiny'
Feedback: Yes, please. I aim to improve.
Website: http://www.livejournal.com/users/cerisaye/

"Crumpets. Hot, so the butter melts down my chin, with a teaspoon of
raspberry jam from the larder, and steaming cups of tea. Remember to
put the milk in first, and the tea must infuse in the silver pot- the
one with the curly snake handle I think." Drusilla stabs the air with
a toasting fork for emphasis. "Miss Edith?" she says
querulously, "are you listening to Mummy? This is important. It has
to be just so."

"Are we having a tea party?" Darla says, entering the room with an
exaggerated yawn. "Oh goody. Another exciting evening. Be sure and
bring Angelus down, Drusilla. You know he wouldn't want to miss the
fun." Darla smiles. Her lips upturn but the pale blue eyes are cold
as ice.

Drusilla ignores her elder's taunts, busying herself happily with
napkins and a delicate porcelain china tea set with a ruby red rose
pattern. She hums as she sets out the cups and saucers with tiny
silver spoons, and stacks the plates. "Daddy likes tea parties and he
insisted that we should use the company china today. Nothing but the
best for his girl."

"I know he indulges his favourite a little too much," Darla snaps
impatiently, shaking out a wrap before covering her perfectly pale
shoulders. "When Angelus finally arises, tell him I've gone out on an
errand, but I'll expect to see him later in the drawing room. His
exertions pleasing me earlier must have taken more out of him than I
thought." Darla winks suggestively then turns on her heel with a
flounce of stiff petticoats and makes her exit.

"I'm very glad she's gone," Drusilla sniggers to her
companion. "Always spoiling everything. Makes daddy cross too.
There's no pleasing her some nights, no matter how he tries. Tastes
like bitter lemons and vinegar. Bah!" Drusilla stands back from the
small table draped elegantly with a fine lace edged cloth to admire
her efforts. "There, all done. Now we'll go fetch Will, and wait for
daddy." Drusilla scuttles from the room.



***



Angelus takes William to his bed for sport, sniggering later with
Darla as he recounts with gusto deflowering the virginal arse,
puckered entrance torn and bleeding as swollen cock forces through
tight muscle, embedded to his balls after two powerfully relentless
thrusts. Thin body beneath him shudders as screams become moans
become pleas. Faster. Deeper. Harder. Please...Angelus...

The boy is so pretty with his impossibly blue eyes glazing with need
and rolling back in his head, as he arches higher off the bed with
each stroke. Angelus withdraws almost all the way, leaving only the
tip of his penis inside the place of his pleasure, then slams back
inside, flesh slap-slapping hard against flesh, sticky with sweat and
fluid, William's cock bouncing against his belly.

Darla puts her hand over Angelus' lips then, chides her lover for
neglecting her in favour of Drusilla's milksop brat. Bites his bottom
lip in a bruising kiss until Angelus' blood coats both their dueling
tongues. Pulls at the buttons of his trousers and rubs against him
like a cat in heat, her small hands reaching under his shirt to rake
sharp nails from breast to belly. Licks the wounds to capture the
blood droplets with tongue pressing flat against his skin.

Later, serviced and satisfied, Darla is safely tucked up in deep
sleep when Angelus steals from the bed, padding softly in bare feet
to William's tiny room in the upper reaches of the house they occupy.
Cold as the grave, with the small fireplace empty of coal. Angelus
stands still, clad only in a brocade robe loosely tied at he middle.
Moonlight streams through the unshuttered attic window. He watches
the figure sprawled face down, naked and bruised, on the narrow cot
bed. Threadbare blankets are loosely draped across his lower body,
luminous skin stark against the dark bedcovers, like the silvered
moon in an ink black sky.

With hungry eyes Angelus traces the curve of buttocks, perfect globes
that his fingers itch to squeeze and pummel. Tops of muscular thighs
that his hands long to stroke and soothe. The delightful space
between the legs, almost hidden by the blanket, that his tongue aches
to lick and explore, deep and long.

Angelus reaches into his pocket to grasp his knife, flicking open the
blade, holding its gleaming surface up to the moonlight for a moment.
He crosses the bare boards to crouch on the floor by the bed. He's
never seen anything quite so beautiful as this pale boy lying spread
open before him. Unnatural feelings Angelus simply isn't used to.
Using a man to force submission to his power was one thing. Feeling
aching desire for the fledgling stirring his blood and hardening his
cock was something else entirely.

Angelus takes the knife and runs its point down the line of William's
exposed torso, from neck to thigh. The boy stirs to its touch. Drowsy
and heavy with sleep he looks round at Angelus, eyes widening with
fear as he sees the knife poised above him. Angelus lazily drops his
robe to the floor and stands fully erect, dominating the small space
with the force of his presence. "Wake up, William," he drawls. "I'm
in need of a little stimulation and Darla has fallen asleep. Or
should I go to my sweet Drusilla? Hmmmn. The choice is yours."


***


Drusilla rocks silently on the bed. Her head is in her hands and long
fingers tug hanks of dark hair. She's barefoot and clad in a calf-
length ruffled cream chemise that gapes open at the neck, laces half
undone. Arms wrap round shapely legs as she holds herself in a tight
ball. Straining muscle shows hidden strength, a dancer's physique.
Her pale skin has a rosy bloom, warm to his touch; as he expected she
has fed recently, and the smell of it on her makes him salivate
reflexively.

"The nasty, sticky spiders are spinning their webs," Drusilla
confides, with a stifled giggle. "They're waiting for the flies; but
they buzz in my ears, and it hurts so. William, please make them
stop." Drusilla waves her arms now about her, feeling for him,
staring through him with unseeing eyes.

It'd be pretty unnerving if he hadn't seen it before, innumerable
times. Always worse when, as now, she'd been with Angelus, their
elder, the master vampire in charge of their household. Well, when
Darla wasn't administering charming little punishments that left
Angelus suitably contrite, unable to bear clothing on his back or
stand unsupported until she forgave whatever transgression had roused
her wrath, and allowed him the blood he needed to heal. Then, later
once he'd made it up to Darla in her big bed, he'd come looking for
Dru. Those were the times William had come to dread most, more than
his own summonses to Angelus's room.

William takes the thin shoulders and draws the agitated girl-woman
close to his chest, gently kissing her upturned face and stroking her
head. "Hush my love," he whispers. "You're safe here with me. Don't
fret. You know I take care of you." Long strokes down her back smooth
tangled curls in languid movements, rhythmic and soothing. He's done
this many times, brought Drusilla back from the dark, bathing her in
the comfort of his devotion. "I'll never allow any harm to come to
you, my sweet. Wasn't that why you made me? To look after you?
Angelus and Darla don't care to. They have mind only for their own
pleasure. Nothing else matters to me, only you,"

"It's in the stars, don't you see?" She pulls away from him, but
clutches on to his hands, crushing his fingers in a vice-like grip. "I
can't hear what they're trying to tell me, because of the flies. You
don't hear them. Nobody does." She sighs. "They say I'm mad, you
know. First Mama then Darla...but Angelus...he listens...and
you...you understand, don't you, my William?"

"You're very special, my princess," William says, with a chaste kiss
to her lips. He pulls her closer again and settles them both on the
bed, resting against plump pillows. Whatever else life held, luxury
was always prominent, for Darla expected nothing but the best in all
things.

William tries hard to ignore the strong scent of Angelus clinging to
his love, like the foul stench of the London sewers in summer.

Tries harder to forget the silky feel of Angelus' cock under his
fingers and between his lips. Ejaculate pumping until it spills from
William's mouth and dribbles down his chin. Angelus laughing, as he
rubs the fluid over William's face, bending over to lick him clean
like a cat with her kitten. Powerful arms grabbing him for a wickedly
bruising kiss, making sure he tastes blood mixed with come, as razor
sharp teeth pierce his tongue.

Drusilla reaches up to caress William's cheek, the palm of her hand
holding tight to his jaw. Her thumb digs hard into the hollow under
his ear and a dreamy smile softens her sharp features. She places the
other hand flat on his chest, over his unbeating heart. "It burns,
and you want to cut it out. Ashes and blood, bones and hurt...such
pain. But you love her, naughty boy! You wanted it for her, but it
wasn't enough. She loves another, but he's gone...no, always in her
heart, but not the same." Drusilla takes both hands now to his face,
thumbing his cheekbones. "Empty and dark and so cold. You can't
feel...can't touch anything. Oh William, the darkness...so full of
shadows...hold me, please."

William pulls her close until the shuddering stills and hacking sobs
subside. "Were you thinking of me when Angelus was inside you, my
darling?" Voice calm, quiet, pitched low. He doesn't know where the
impulse comes from; he's supposed to be comforting not quizzing
her. "From where I stood, I rather think not." It isn't her fault, so
why is he doing this? He loves Drusilla and she in her own way loves
him. Isn't that enough? It's more than he deserves and more than he
ever had when his heart was beating still.

Drusilla looks at him, shrewd and perfectly lucid. The far-seeing
eyes are narrowed so crinkles appear at the corners, a momentary
illusion of time's passage; she looks like an experienced woman and
not the apparently innocent young girl he's used to.

"There, there, my pretty boy, don't fret. It was nothing but a little
fun. Darla was in a mood and gone off somewhere, Angelus was bored
and those children made me so cross. I wanted cheering up, but you
weren't there."

She pouts, lips enticingly full and slightly parted. She's running
fingers through his hair, tugging his head back to expose the neck to
sharp teeth and greedy lips that nip and suck at tender skin. Ripples
of pleasure radiate to his groin, where a hand presses against his
rapidly swelling penis. Always did have a mind of its own. Fingers
squeeze his tightening balls until he gasps, hips bucking off the bed
seeking closer contact with that knowing touch. The thick smell of
arousal as he takes deep gulps of air, overcome with the need to sink
his manhood deep into Drusilla's wet core to reclaim her; his scent
suffusing pale skin, taking away the reek of that other claimant to
the affections of his sweetheart, the woman William foolishly had
called his destiny to Angelus' smirking face.

"Daddy needs his girl to take away his pain, William my lovely," she
says, stroking his twitching cock through the fabric of his trousers.

Fingers begin to undo the buttons of his fly and carefully free the
hardening column of flesh. Mouth drops to slowly suck glistening
drops of fluid leaking from the tip, teeth gently pushing back the
foreskin to lick across the head and into the slit.

"Didn't look much like pain to me," William says, his voice hoarse
with desire, need coursing through his veins like fine wine until he
throbs from head to toe, aching with desire. Played like an
instrument in the hands of a maestro. Fighting passion with grim
determination, William struggles to keep a grip on his
thoughts. "Bloody bastard seemed to be enjoying himself between those
pretty legs of yours. Quite a spectacle the pair of you made.
Laughing together as he thrust into you. Brute didn't even remove his
breeches, Dru, and you moaned for him, wanted him to hurt you, to
treat you as nothing more than a receptacle for his lust." To
William's shame, his voice breaks and tears splash over his
cheeks. "You let him do that to you, like an animal, when you could
have me making love to you, treating you like the precious jewel you
are. He's a beast, a foul demon who knows nothing of love or feeling."

"Daddy isn't gentle like you. He likes it rough." Drusilla growls
like a big cat, lips pulled back to bare her teeth. "I don't mind.
It's rather exciting!" Her eyes dance. "But I like it when you take
me, William, and make me yours. With kind words, sweet kisses and a
gentle touch." Drusilla's tongue, pale and pointed, pushes between
full red lips and she leans across so he can see the tips of her
small breasts peeking from the loosened top of her chemise. She licks
away the tears wetting his cheeks. Her eyes gleam, gold speckled in
the flickering candlelight, casing shadows across the rumpled bed.

"He's a loud-mouthed braggart, a boor from an Irish bog. Does he
whisper poetry to you when you're lying together, spent and sticky
with his seed? He cares not for love. He likes to inflict pain. He
only wants you because he knows I love you, want you for my own. I
told him, Dru and he laughed in my face."

"Angelus likes his little games," Drusilla explains as if to a
child. "He needs his girl to please him, lift the dark mood from him
when it weighs him down. Darla has no use for Angelus when he's taken
like that. But it's you who looks after *me*, my Willy. And daddy is
jealous, you see , because it was only him and me before and now
there's you." She giggles and slaps his arm companionably. "Daddy
isn't here now is he, my perfect knight? What say you show me your
sword and ravish this maiden. All yours for the taking."


***


William groans as he stretches lazily in the large four poster bed
with sumptuous deep red velvet hangings. A smile tugs at lips swollen
from either bruising kisses or perhaps a fist, as he languidly
scratches his head. Turning to his companion, William says
softly, "Angelus? You awake?"

The bulky figure lying next to William stirs slowly and a large arm
suddenly wraps itself possessively round the smaller man's shoulders,
pulling him tightly against a well-formed chest. "What's your hurry,
sweet boy? So keen to leave me. I might be insulted if I didn't have
the evidence of your continued affection here in my hand." A sharp
tug on William's swollen penis causes him to jerk into Angelus' bear-
like embrace.

"Ah, if you keep doing that, I'm not in any haste at all, Angelus."
William nuzzles under Angelus' chin and begins sucking gently on the
skin under his jaw, pulling the flesh into his eager mouth, savouring
the taste.

A soft knock on the door, followed by Drusilla's questioning
voice, "William? Are you there, my love? May I come in?" The door
creaks open slowly, and Drusilla's head pokes into the room, long
hair tumbling around bare shoulders. "Miss Edith wants you to come
for tea, and you know how cross she gets if we're late."

William withdraws from Angelus' side and sits up in the bed, hastily
pulling the covers over his nakedness. "Dru, my precious," he
exclaims with as much force as he could manage with Angelus' hand
busy under the covers stroking his stiffened and painfully swollen
member. "Can you give us a moment to dress? We'll be down directly.
You want us to look our best for the tea party, don't you, princess?"

Drusilla giggles and raises an admonishing finger. "Best be quick
about it then. Miss Edith gets so cross if she's kept waiting."

The door closes and Angelus rolls onto William. "Well my lad, before
you go anywhere I think there's something I need to take care of, and
you wouldn't want to disappoint me now, would you?"

William obediently wraps his legs around the broad back and allows
Angelus to enter his anus swiftly, without further preparation. He
grimaces as the thick cock works in and out, lubricated now with
blood and pre-come. Dru would understand. He'd make it up to her
later.

Background and designs from Opulant Designs.

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