Sometimes He Needed
for tabaqui. Who wanted more.
Sometimes he just needed this. And sometimes Spike was not around to take it, to give it, to be there and break under, bend over and tear Angel apart from beneath and above.
Sometimes there was nothing else that brought a sound sleep. Nothing that kept the drowning nightmares of Darla and Connor, Wesley and Fred, Cordelia … Buffy … nothing that would keep them out of his head for just enough time to rest and heal and sleep without dreaming at all.
Angel caught the scent from the roof of his building. An animal, hungry and alone. He dropped to the street and followed it through alleys, dodging cars and humans. Immaterial witnesses to pure lust and desire and absolutely too fragile for what Angel wanted.
It didn’t take long to find that he was being hunted. As much as he was hunting. Pheromones danced against bricks up to the thick smog and dark clouds above. Rain sheeted between them and steam rose from asphalt.
The pure wolf melted back to half-human. His eyes blood-red, his teeth deadly sharp. His fingers and toenails tipped in long, dark claws. His hair hung down around his face, it clung in wet, black streaks to his stubbled, unshaven cheeks and jaw. His chest and feet were bare. His jeans worn, soaked denim that clung to his thighs and ass.
Tilt of the wolf’s head and a slow grin.
“Not tonight.” Angel’s hands were curled into tight fists. “You’re in my city. Hunting.”
“I’m in your city. … Hunting you.”
“Then find me.”
Angel turned and left. He scaled a wall and skimmed rooftops, his coat billowed as he dropped and ran and climbed and ended the chase in his hotel. Rebuilt after the dragon took out the top floor, fenced off from prying eyes again. As if it was as empty as when Angel stumbled into it for the second time, filled with regret and apologies as he chased a pregnant woman that he thought he was saving.
He kept the lobby dusted and left a small lamp burning at night on Cordelia’s desk.
Regrets and memories.
He walked up the stairs to his room.
Angel could smell the forest from the last time, from the first time. This time, Angel wanted sheets. He wanted a roof to keep the sun at bay. He wanted time to play with the wolf. He had only just shrugged off his coat, toed off his shoes when he heard the click of nails and weight on the wet concrete of the deck outside of his room.
Angel opened the curtained door and the smell of city streets and soaked dog swept inside his suite carried on cool, fall air.
Varek changed again. He became completely human as he entered. He shook his head and water droplets scattered and one long strand clung to his cheek. He smiled, a little bashful, a little playful. He walked around the walls of the hotel suite, his bare feet silent on the carpet and rugs.
From the open balcony to the door, through the tiny kitchen and past the bathroom, his fingers spread and pushed through thick curtains, over paint and old wallpaper. His deep breaths and the simmering demon just under the bare skin of humanity made Angel growl, low and quiet. Made his own passion come right up to the edge of his control and his fingers curled into fists as the werewolf walked the perimeter of Angel’s personal space.
Varek ended up right in front of Angel. Breathing pants of air that where barely audible whines through his lips.
“Find what you were looking for?”
“Just need to know I’m safe.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m safe.”
“No,” It was Angel’s turn to smile. His teeth a little sharper than they should be. “No, it doesn’t.”
This time Varek walked around Angel. His fingers spread, his hand extended. Moving slowly as he touched. Silk and skin, muscles and marble.
“You’re not like any vampire I’ve met.”
“Been with a few, have you?”
Warm breath at the edge of Angel’s shirt collar. Small, wet lick in the tiny space between hairline and silk on the back of his neck.
“You’re a little different yourself, wolf.” Angel inhaled as Varek moved back around to face him. “The moon isn’t full tonight.”
…and you don’t smell of human blood or flesh or terror …
“I found a cure. I have control.”
“Chanting? Yoga? Been to the Far East?” Angel’s mouth flooded with the phantom taste of Oz. Memories in black and white and red and nails scratching down his back, tearing into his skin.
Varek shook his head. The constant smile slipped from his lips for a moment.
“My son’s blood. He’s a half-breed. Special. I tried to kill him. Ended up just getting one bite. That was enough.”
Angel covered the warm hand that pressed to his chest with his own. He waited for the temperature of his body to match Varek’s.
“I have a son. He’s tried to kill me. More than once.”
“You can’t.” Dark eyes shimmered and Angel nodded.
“Is that why you are different?”
Angel watched the werewolf accept and move on. Both of them split now, between demon and human. Their minds processed information, their bodies rock hard and filled with lust. The space around them charged with electricity that had nothing to do with the conversation.
“Part. I have my soul.”
Varek laughed. A sound that was more of a bark than anything else; the short chuff of a dog, completely without amusement.
“Where is your church? Where are your followers, your believers?”
“Must suck when you need to pass the hat.”
The color of Varek’s eyes deepened from brown to black. His smile widened and his teeth were as white and sharp, as preternatural as Angel’s were. And the questions that came to Angel’s lips disappeared when Varek spoke again.
“That’s why I’m here, right?”
They kissed. Angel pulled the werewolf to him and he couldn’t remember if they’d done this before or the first time. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t a kiss in any human sense of the word. It was too hard, mouths open and teeth cut into skin. It was Angel tasting Varek’s blood and Varek fighting the change that the iron and copper of Angel’s blood filling his mouth brought.
“Let go, Varek. Let go.” Angel whispered, his head dipped.
Be my animal tonight.
His mouth went straight to the wolf’s neck and only a strong cuff from the back of Varek’s hand on his jaw kept the wolf from being bitten. Angel growled. His control on a frayed string. His shoulders wide as he leaned toward Varek, instinctual intimidation.
“No biting.” The werewolf’s eyes were black, red at the edges.
His lips thinned over sharp teeth and the fingers that ripped Angel’s shirt from his chest were long, sharp claws.
Angel’s head fell back. His eyes closed as Varek’s hot, deadly mouth lapped down his chest. Fingers scrabbled at the button and zipper of Angel’s slacks. Opened and pulled and shredded the material down his thighs.
A slow lick over the head of Angel’s cock and Angel looked down. His hands tangled in Varek’s wet hair. Those dark eyes stared up at him, Varek’s tongue licked over his lips. His breath was hot, blowing over Angel’s groin. His mouth opened as he sucked the head of Angel’s cock, lips stretched and Angel felt Varek’s jaw move wider as he took more.
Angel shoved Varek away and back, never let go of the long, wet hair.
“Come to my bed, Varek.”
I want to taste you.
What little clothing was left on them dropped to the floor. The single light of a lamp made their eyes glow; two black, two yellow. Angel pushed Varek back and down. He spread the man, the wolf over the mattress, pulled his arms above his head and carefully, gently kissed from elbow to armpit to ribs. His hips pushed Varek’s thighs apart. Their cocks rubbed as they rolled. Sinew and muscle and demon to demon, legs wound around each other, mouths open in need and supplication. Denied each other the very thing that they both wanted.
Kisses that hurt and hands reaching, touching, stroking, grabbing. It was all a smooth burn, Angel’s body heated as he rocked against Varek. Sweat slick and rainwater droplets that brought Angel the flavor of his chosen city, scattered over the skin of someone that searched for him, hunted for him … a demon that matched him.
The single tear of a tooth through the fragile surface and blood. A bead of red into air and pure passion.
“Let me inside.”
I want to fuck you, Varek.
“Yes, God … fuck, Angel … yes…”
Legs spread and open. Angel positioned, pushed. His fingers going in with his cock and when Varek bowed under him, taut with pain and desire, Angel didn’t stop. His cock slid in, his fingers slick, almost as long as his dick and his teeth caught on the lifted, tight skin over a tendon that lifted from Varek’s collarbone to his jaw, his back arched up from the sheets, his chest wide under Angel’s.
Varek’s claws tore through the blankets and sheets under them. Angel shuddered over him, feeling the change, the demons inside both of them taking over. Varek’s body grew stronger, seemed thicker. A soft fur, damp with sweat coated his smooth skin and the groans that came from his throat became deep, gruff growls. Vibrations that Angel could feel through his fingers, through his cock. His own brow ridged. His lips pulled back over jagged, uneven teeth that were stained with Varek’s blood.
Angel’s pulled his fingers free from the tight grip of Varek’s body and slid them up through the fur that covered the wolf’s abdomen and chest to Varek’s neck. His thumb pressed over the hard, fast pulsing beat of the thick, full vein he found there. Blood pumped from brain to heart to lungs and back again. His hips snapped as he pounded into Varek.
Without lube, without condoms, without necessary human compassion.
They fucked and growled and bit and tore. Angel’s room smelled of blood and sex, the very air sparking with the dark, demon, possessed. With the magic that had created them, that kept them both alive. That gave them, forced them in, made them the dark.
Angel let the wolf roll him. Let him pull and reposition and press Angel into the shredded material. He spread his knees and bowed his back. He closed his eyes and wiped his bloodstained mouth and jaw on the torn cotton and moaned as Varek fucked him. His back as torn as the sheets, Varek’s claws sliced as his hands gripped Angel’s hips and he thrust forward without a second thought. Without a first. The instinct to rut and fuck and lick the copper and iron of Angel's skin and only the very narrowest line kept the wolf from biting into the flesh that he held.
They showered together. Pale yellow tiles smeared with red until it all washed down the drain. Blood and come and sweat. Claws became fingers, canines blunt and human, eyes browned and vision dulled. Senses still overwhelmed and no matter how many times Angel lifted his head and opened his mouth and drank warm water, he could still taste Varek at the back of his throat, on his tongue, between his teeth.
He gave into it, kneeling in the steaming shower and sucking Varek’s soft cock. Soap and water and sex, strong thighs in his hands as he made the werewolf come again. This time without a howl, just a whimper and a whine and his name floated somewhere above his head, over and over. Salt and water and bittersweet candy.
When Angel went to bed, Varek followed him.
“Why are you here?” Angel mumbled.
He pulled the warm body closer to him. He kept his eyes closed. He didn’t stop the quiet purr that vibrated up from his chest as a warm mouth licked dry the spots that he had missed with the towel. As he felt the smile and the soft, heated breath on the tight skin over the bone of one hip. The soothing slide of fingers and palm between his thighs.
The answer to his question.
“You needed me.”