Serpent's Tongue
Jul. 23rd, 2008 09:38 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sevendeadlyfunPairing: Spike/Drusilla/Connor
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Pretty child with impossible eyes, will you welcome me with a kiss?
A/N: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
kink_bingo prompt- double penetration (one hole) and set in ATF comics canon. Takes place at roughly the same time as In the Company of Monsters and after A Song of Sixpence and In The Name Of. Based on Connor's words in Issue #9 about Spike being like a weird uncle.
She dismisses him from her mind before he’s even left her sight. He’s off to find Daddy, present himself and be welcomed. The newest princeling striding across the stage, stopping to bow and nod as it pleases him. Angelus will school him on his lines; teach him the part he’s to play.
“All the world’s a stage,” she murmurs, head swaying as her eyes drift close.
She remembers the first time she brought a shorn lamb home, eager to have him taken into the fold. Lamb turned lion, her Spike, all fierce and full of fire. She can smell him now, the burnt sugar smell of his soul rising above the stench of a city gorged to bursting on death.
His blood tasted like salvation. Once upon a time, she would sip from Angelus and William in turn, drinking damnation and salvation for tea. But inside the smell of burnt sugar was a something almost bitter, a tickle under her nose. The lemons that Darla favored smelt like that, astringent but irresistible.
She’d missed it before, her senses full up with her songbird and his chirpings. Only once he’d flown the nest did the scent of family catch her up. She opens her eyes, face transformed from fragile woman to indestructible monster.
“Mummy’s here,” she whispers, pushing her words into the wind.
She finds him in a warehouse arguing with a not-quite boy. She squirms as she watches, almost recoiling from the astringent lemon scent radiating from his skin. When he turns, she smiles. She knows those eyes, sees them in all her dreams.
“Eyes like needles,” she says, gliding out from the shadows. “Pretty child with impossible eyes, will you welcome me with a kiss?”
~*~*~*~
The argument, the valid points, and the specious logic, all fall away. No matter how much he longs to forget, he wears her brand on his heart and her marks on his skin.
“Dru,” he says, gesturing Connor to stay behind him. “Luv, what’re you doing here? Thought you were in South America or something.”
She turns those large golden eyes on him, blinking lazily at his questions. Connor moves forward again, a crude stake clutched in his hand. Spike pushes him backwards, hands suddenly hard and rough.
“Touch her,” he tells the younger man, “and I’ll rip your head from your body.”
He can feel the amazement stream from his…what? What do you call the mystical child of your Sire and his Sire? Brother? Nephew? Cousin? Connor calls him Uncle Spike and he accepts the label because family is family, however you name it.
“So, you’re all about defending evil now?” Connor asks him and Spike aches at the heartache and frustration in the question. Poor lad’s been betrayed and deceived his whole short life. Still, what’s one more bit of pain in this tiny corner of Hell?
“No,” Spike says shortly. “She’s family. Drusilla’s your…well, bloody fucking hell. Angelus sired her and when Wolfram and sodding Hart brought Darla back from the dead, Drusilla re-sired her. So, she’s either your sister or your grandmother. Either way, she’s not....she’s family and you don’t hurt family.”
“Did you miss me?” Drusilla asks him, a finger carving into the skin of his cheek. “Did you, my sweet Spike?”
“Yeah,” he says hoarsely. “Missed you.”
“Oh, but you’ve found something new,” Drusilla marvels, bringing her finger to her mouth. His blood drips down over the petal pink of her lips, a crimson stripe that shouts at him, a scream of fucking and feasting. “Marked by the fist of an angry god, opening up the windows of your soul. He’s covered you in splendid armor and sent you off on a holy crusade.”
“Yeah,” he says again because even when he understands what she says, he rarely argues. “But, I need to know, pet. What’s brought you here?”
“I rode a bird,” she tells him vaguely, demonic face melting away as she thinks. “He was fast and full of song. I sent him off to find Daddy and make his manners.”
“Dad?” Connor says, his voice shaking. “She sent a giant bird off to kill my Dad?”
Spike snorts. “Could be. Or she could be talking about an airplane or who know what. Best not to examine her too closely, mate. Dru’s a horse of a different color.”
Spike watches her keenly, eyes fixed on the slim body meandering around the warehouse. She has her own purposes and her words seem all stripped of sense, but no matter how it looks to strangers, Drusilla never does anything at random. Her madness has no method that he’d ever seen; still, it follows a strange sort of logic. So what did she want?
“What does she want?” Connor asked impatiently.
Spike smiles at this unintentional echo. What does he tell this boy who smells of family and asks such simple questions?
“You heard her,” he finally answers, a smile twisting his features. “She wants you to welcome her with a kiss.”
Hands dance over Connor’s soft flesh. Spawn of the two most vicious demons he may be, but his skin is the color of milk and his body still sweetly rounded in adolescence. Spike watches him move under Dru’s skilled hands, wonders if Angelus was ever like this: soft, untutored, and so eager.
Her mouth seals over his, a gentle kiss that quickly turns into something more. Spike watches the younger man’s hands creep towards small, firm breasts; licks his lips as Dru arches under Connor’s touch, her dress falling at her feet.
“I shouldn’t,” Connor mumbles around the rosy peak of her nipple. “Gwen…I…we…”
“Electra?” Spike laughs. He stands behind Dru, fingertip sliding under Connor’s chin. “Nothing wrong with lighting a spark, but you’re just a bit of tinder to that bint. Better you leave her be and take your pleasures where you can find them.”
He rubs his erection against the plump softness of her ass, trying to relieve the desperate ache pooling there. It’s been too long since he’s played like this. Living with his family taught him to enjoy a full bed and his has been far too empty.
He strokes down the quivering flesh of her flank, dipping down into damp curls. He grins, a wicked, knowing grin. His fingers tangle with Connor’s, sliding up over her stiff clit and down into her tight passage.
“Yes,” she breathes, encouraging them. “In between sin and virtue, I abide. Shall there be penance?”
“No,” Spike assures her. “Heavenly reward for such a saint as you, my pet.”
She smiles at him, her eyes hooded. He can hear Connor gasping, short shallow breaths as Dru lowers herself onto his cock. Spike almost laughs. If just sliding into her takes his breath away, Spike thinks what happens next might send the boy into shock.
He kneels behind her, running his hands softly up Connor’s strong legs. It’s hard to remember that he is Connor and not Angel. So often he’s been here and it was Angel she rode at a gallop, Angel’s hands twisting her nipples ‘til they glowed a cherry red. Now she’s fucking Angel’s bouncing baby boy. It’s almost wrong.
But not so wrong that he won’t join in, soul or not. The thick smell of sex lodges in his nose, sending pulses of arousal through his body. His hands move from Connor’s legs to Dru’s slim hips, stilling their frantic motion.
She’s wet, swollen. Her body vibrates around the thick cock already inside her, strong inner muscles squeezing. It’s difficult, but Spike perseveres, pushing himself into her.
He groans low in his throat, a sound that echoes across the emptiness that surrounds them. Beneath him, Connor whimpers as the snug passage around him is invaded. Slick skin brushes against his cock head, drawing more desperate whimpers from Connor.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “Dru, luv, need…”
He trails off as she moves, a slow roll of her hips that shifts the two cocks inside her. She is full of them, hot and cool flesh pressed together inside her. A few more quick strokes and Connor comes, his semen splashing down and covering Spike’s cock.
The sea salt smell of his cum, the heat of it as slides down Spike’s shaft, acts like a spur. Spike’s hips pump forward, a snap jerk that draws a deep moan from both of his partners. As Drusilla spasms in orgasm, Spike tries desperately to hold off. He wants to make it last, make it good, make it forever.
A hand fumbles at his nipple and he looks up in surprise. Knowing blue-green eyes meet his gaze, so familiar and yet brand-new. A quick twist of the sensitive flesh and he comes, burying himself deeply inside Drusilla.
They lay there for silent minutes, a jumble of sated and stirring flesh. Drusilla moves first, wrapping her lips around Connor’s quiescent cock and nursing at the spent organ. Spike’s hip rock lazily upwards into Connor’s fist, the strong fingers teasing along his shaft and sac.
“So,” Connor asks quietly. “Is this how you guys were with my Dad?”
“Nah,” Spike tells him. “Angelus was a right kinky bastard. This is much too tame for the likes of him.”
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Pretty child with impossible eyes, will you welcome me with a kiss?
A/N: Written for
kink_bingo prompt- double penetration (one hole) and set in ATF comics canon. Takes place at roughly the same time as In the Company of Monsters and after A Song of Sixpence and In The Name Of. Based on Connor's words in Issue #9 about Spike being like a weird uncle. She dismisses him from her mind before he’s even left her sight. He’s off to find Daddy, present himself and be welcomed. The newest princeling striding across the stage, stopping to bow and nod as it pleases him. Angelus will school him on his lines; teach him the part he’s to play.
“All the world’s a stage,” she murmurs, head swaying as her eyes drift close.
She remembers the first time she brought a shorn lamb home, eager to have him taken into the fold. Lamb turned lion, her Spike, all fierce and full of fire. She can smell him now, the burnt sugar smell of his soul rising above the stench of a city gorged to bursting on death.
His blood tasted like salvation. Once upon a time, she would sip from Angelus and William in turn, drinking damnation and salvation for tea. But inside the smell of burnt sugar was a something almost bitter, a tickle under her nose. The lemons that Darla favored smelt like that, astringent but irresistible.
She’d missed it before, her senses full up with her songbird and his chirpings. Only once he’d flown the nest did the scent of family catch her up. She opens her eyes, face transformed from fragile woman to indestructible monster.
“Mummy’s here,” she whispers, pushing her words into the wind.
She finds him in a warehouse arguing with a not-quite boy. She squirms as she watches, almost recoiling from the astringent lemon scent radiating from his skin. When he turns, she smiles. She knows those eyes, sees them in all her dreams.
“Eyes like needles,” she says, gliding out from the shadows. “Pretty child with impossible eyes, will you welcome me with a kiss?”
~*~*~*~
The argument, the valid points, and the specious logic, all fall away. No matter how much he longs to forget, he wears her brand on his heart and her marks on his skin.
“Dru,” he says, gesturing Connor to stay behind him. “Luv, what’re you doing here? Thought you were in South America or something.”
She turns those large golden eyes on him, blinking lazily at his questions. Connor moves forward again, a crude stake clutched in his hand. Spike pushes him backwards, hands suddenly hard and rough.
“Touch her,” he tells the younger man, “and I’ll rip your head from your body.”
He can feel the amazement stream from his…what? What do you call the mystical child of your Sire and his Sire? Brother? Nephew? Cousin? Connor calls him Uncle Spike and he accepts the label because family is family, however you name it.
“So, you’re all about defending evil now?” Connor asks him and Spike aches at the heartache and frustration in the question. Poor lad’s been betrayed and deceived his whole short life. Still, what’s one more bit of pain in this tiny corner of Hell?
“No,” Spike says shortly. “She’s family. Drusilla’s your…well, bloody fucking hell. Angelus sired her and when Wolfram and sodding Hart brought Darla back from the dead, Drusilla re-sired her. So, she’s either your sister or your grandmother. Either way, she’s not....she’s family and you don’t hurt family.”
“Did you miss me?” Drusilla asks him, a finger carving into the skin of his cheek. “Did you, my sweet Spike?”
“Yeah,” he says hoarsely. “Missed you.”
“Oh, but you’ve found something new,” Drusilla marvels, bringing her finger to her mouth. His blood drips down over the petal pink of her lips, a crimson stripe that shouts at him, a scream of fucking and feasting. “Marked by the fist of an angry god, opening up the windows of your soul. He’s covered you in splendid armor and sent you off on a holy crusade.”
“Yeah,” he says again because even when he understands what she says, he rarely argues. “But, I need to know, pet. What’s brought you here?”
“I rode a bird,” she tells him vaguely, demonic face melting away as she thinks. “He was fast and full of song. I sent him off to find Daddy and make his manners.”
“Dad?” Connor says, his voice shaking. “She sent a giant bird off to kill my Dad?”
Spike snorts. “Could be. Or she could be talking about an airplane or who know what. Best not to examine her too closely, mate. Dru’s a horse of a different color.”
Spike watches her keenly, eyes fixed on the slim body meandering around the warehouse. She has her own purposes and her words seem all stripped of sense, but no matter how it looks to strangers, Drusilla never does anything at random. Her madness has no method that he’d ever seen; still, it follows a strange sort of logic. So what did she want?
“What does she want?” Connor asked impatiently.
Spike smiles at this unintentional echo. What does he tell this boy who smells of family and asks such simple questions?
“You heard her,” he finally answers, a smile twisting his features. “She wants you to welcome her with a kiss.”
Hands dance over Connor’s soft flesh. Spawn of the two most vicious demons he may be, but his skin is the color of milk and his body still sweetly rounded in adolescence. Spike watches him move under Dru’s skilled hands, wonders if Angelus was ever like this: soft, untutored, and so eager.
Her mouth seals over his, a gentle kiss that quickly turns into something more. Spike watches the younger man’s hands creep towards small, firm breasts; licks his lips as Dru arches under Connor’s touch, her dress falling at her feet.
“I shouldn’t,” Connor mumbles around the rosy peak of her nipple. “Gwen…I…we…”
“Electra?” Spike laughs. He stands behind Dru, fingertip sliding under Connor’s chin. “Nothing wrong with lighting a spark, but you’re just a bit of tinder to that bint. Better you leave her be and take your pleasures where you can find them.”
He rubs his erection against the plump softness of her ass, trying to relieve the desperate ache pooling there. It’s been too long since he’s played like this. Living with his family taught him to enjoy a full bed and his has been far too empty.
He strokes down the quivering flesh of her flank, dipping down into damp curls. He grins, a wicked, knowing grin. His fingers tangle with Connor’s, sliding up over her stiff clit and down into her tight passage.
“Yes,” she breathes, encouraging them. “In between sin and virtue, I abide. Shall there be penance?”
“No,” Spike assures her. “Heavenly reward for such a saint as you, my pet.”
She smiles at him, her eyes hooded. He can hear Connor gasping, short shallow breaths as Dru lowers herself onto his cock. Spike almost laughs. If just sliding into her takes his breath away, Spike thinks what happens next might send the boy into shock.
He kneels behind her, running his hands softly up Connor’s strong legs. It’s hard to remember that he is Connor and not Angel. So often he’s been here and it was Angel she rode at a gallop, Angel’s hands twisting her nipples ‘til they glowed a cherry red. Now she’s fucking Angel’s bouncing baby boy. It’s almost wrong.
But not so wrong that he won’t join in, soul or not. The thick smell of sex lodges in his nose, sending pulses of arousal through his body. His hands move from Connor’s legs to Dru’s slim hips, stilling their frantic motion.
She’s wet, swollen. Her body vibrates around the thick cock already inside her, strong inner muscles squeezing. It’s difficult, but Spike perseveres, pushing himself into her.
He groans low in his throat, a sound that echoes across the emptiness that surrounds them. Beneath him, Connor whimpers as the snug passage around him is invaded. Slick skin brushes against his cock head, drawing more desperate whimpers from Connor.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “Dru, luv, need…”
He trails off as she moves, a slow roll of her hips that shifts the two cocks inside her. She is full of them, hot and cool flesh pressed together inside her. A few more quick strokes and Connor comes, his semen splashing down and covering Spike’s cock.
The sea salt smell of his cum, the heat of it as slides down Spike’s shaft, acts like a spur. Spike’s hips pump forward, a snap jerk that draws a deep moan from both of his partners. As Drusilla spasms in orgasm, Spike tries desperately to hold off. He wants to make it last, make it good, make it forever.
A hand fumbles at his nipple and he looks up in surprise. Knowing blue-green eyes meet his gaze, so familiar and yet brand-new. A quick twist of the sensitive flesh and he comes, burying himself deeply inside Drusilla.
They lay there for silent minutes, a jumble of sated and stirring flesh. Drusilla moves first, wrapping her lips around Connor’s quiescent cock and nursing at the spent organ. Spike’s hip rock lazily upwards into Connor’s fist, the strong fingers teasing along his shaft and sac.
“So,” Connor asks quietly. “Is this how you guys were with my Dad?”
“Nah,” Spike tells him. “Angelus was a right kinky bastard. This is much too tame for the likes of him.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2008-07-24 03:13 am (UTC)no subject
on 2008-07-24 06:44 am (UTC)*faints*
Love this and wish there was more. Its all wrong and bad but perfect for them. Would like to know what Angel thinks of this.
great job!
no subject
on 2008-07-24 10:21 am (UTC)no subject
on 2008-07-30 01:50 am (UTC)no subject
on 2008-07-30 01:51 am (UTC)no subject
on 2008-07-30 01:52 am (UTC)no subject
on 2008-08-11 10:57 am (UTC)I wonder how Angel would react if he found out!
*kisses* xxx
no subject
on 2008-08-15 05:38 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-11-14 05:52 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2008-11-24 01:35 am (UTC)