AUTHORS: dru as Angel & Evil Willow as
Xander (Go worship the goddess that is EW!)
SERIES: Mile High Club
PAIRING : Angel/Xander
RATING : NC17 (highly smutty
with plenty of salty goodness!)
DISCLAIMER : We do not own these
characters. We just like putting them in lewd positions!
NOTE: We wrote this as role-play
on Yahoo! IM! We had *so* much fun! We've co-authored before but never live like this! We hope you enjoy the fruits of
our lab- okay, so it wasn't really *work*. It was more like play!
=====================================================================
To say
this has been a horrible day so far would be a severe understatement. I missed
my flight, thanks to wonderful New York City traffic combined with a cab driver
who didn't have a fucking clue where the airport was. Then, once in the
airport, I argued and threatened my way onto the next flight to Atlanta, which
was four hours AFTER the flight I missed.
Of
course my home is in MIAMI, but at least I'm getting closer.
Oh and
I didn't get the job, which was the whole reason I was in New York in the first
place. So I hate my life, right about now. No, actually, I've always hated my
life. I just hate it more at the moment.
So now I'm trying to get to my seat, which is in the back of the plane. But since I was on standby, of course I get on last. "MOVE!" I almost feel bad for yelling at the old lady standing in the middle of the aisle, but not quite. She jumps out of the way and I make my way to my seat.
Way. The
fuck. In the back.
That's
what she said. She said it would be the safest, just in case. Thus far, I can
feel the fucking SUN on the other side of this little piece of plastic. The
rays of death are MOCKING me from the other side.
I can
hear them. They're actually singing show tunes. 'We're gonna kill you. We're
gonna kill you.'
Yeah,
FUCKING AWESOME IDEA!
AND on top of *that* I gotta sit next to some ASSHOLE, I'm sure. Said asshole is probably on his way back here with a hundred photos of his cat that I'm gonna have to look at and smile about, when I'm actually thinking about EATING the damn cat cause I'm so damn hungry.
That settles it. When I get home, I'm gonna strangle her
fuckin' neck!
Okay...
when they said, back of the plane, they must have meant the last fucking row.
But that's all right. Because all that matters is I'm on the way home, which is
something to be grateful for. I'm not sitting at the airport, begging, pleading
and screaming. I'm just...
No.
No, no, no, no and did I mention NO?????
"HEY!"
I turn to face the rude person who ran right into me from behind. The flight
attendant. That just figures.
"Sir,
you really have to sit down," she says with a smile.
And that returns me to my previous thought of NO. Because
it's.... it's *so* not funny. It's like there's these gods up there, somewhere,
just laughing and making my life miserable. But it's NOT FUCKING FUNNY!
Well,
well, well... *this* flight just got a whole lot better.
But I
can't-
I smile. "Xander, been a while."
Okay,
just suck it up and sit down next to the undead person who you used to hate
with a passion.
See,
that isn't so bad, is it?
Yes.
Yes, it really is. Because this flight is three hours long... and I just want
to cry now.
"Deadboy," I sigh. "This is..." Terrible? Awful? Horrible? An evil twist of fate? "... a surprise."
"Indeed,"
I say as he starts to settle in. "What are the chances, really?"
I take a few minutes to look him over. He's delicious as usual- I mean... he's not as scrawny as he used to be. 'Course in eight years, he *has* had time to build himself up. "So... what are you doing in New York?"
"Job
interview," I answer. "You?" I don't really want to talk to him,
but I suppose three hours of giving him the silent treatment would be immature.
And I like to at least *pretend* not to be immature, now.
Of
course I haven't looked at him, since I first saw him sitting there, in his
leather pants and red shirt. I had an immediate thought of 'yum', which I then
immediately killed brutally and pushed from my mind. And now I'm sitting here staring
at the seat in front of me.
I'm not attracted to Angel. I'm just... Okay, this is stupid. Arguing with yourself is the first sign of insanity, or so I've been told. So, yes. I've always had a really disturbing attraction for him, one that I dealt with by acting like I hated him.
This
flight is certainly going to be *very* interesting.
I know
that from the traces of arousal that I can sense in the air.
And
suddenly, as I wait for him to say something, anything, I remember a
conversation I had with Spike, when he called me on my lust for Angel. It was
after our Thanksgiving with the psycho Native American Indian spirit. Spike
asked me, later, if I'd always wanted Angel. I tried to deny it, but he
informed me that vampires can sense arousal. And of course I then offered him
money to stay quiet for the rest of my natural life about his discovery.
I always wondered after that if Angel had ever known. And *now* I wonder if he knows. Shit. Three hours. I think I'd have been better off just taking a bus.
"Business," I reply curtly. Don't need to tell him *too* much. Not yet anyway. "Where you livin' these days?"
Breathe, Xander. You haven't given the awful truth away, at
least that's the assumption. "Miami," I reply, looking around the
plane. Might as well make it look like I'm people-watching, rather than making
it obvious I'm avoiding looking at him.
"Miami.
Damn hot down there," I comment. "What are you doing in Miami?"
I ask.
The plane starts to taxi down the runway and I'm well on my way to being a very happy vampire as I stare at him intently.
Yes, I
feel his eyes on me, but I refuse to give in. I don't care *how* silly it is,
it's better than the humiliation when he mocks me for having thoughts of - NO.
Bad brain. No thoughts when the vampire can sense stuff like being turned on.
"I was working construction, until I got laid off. Now I'm just hoping to
find another job, which is why I went to New York. A friend who left to start
his own business there called me up and said he knew of a company that was
hiring. But the interview went about as badly as an interview can go.
So--"
"Do you wanna get laid?" I ask as I slip my hand in between his legs. Oh, yeah. He wants to get laid, all right.
Fuck. I can't... He's... "Guh?" Shit.
"I'll take that as a yes," I say as I stroke him
firmly. "How long has it been, Xander?" I ask. Damn it, I'm horny.
And I don't have to worry about my soul anymore. That problem was fixed six
years ago. So what's the harm in getting some?
"No," I moan. This is so wrong. Because...
because.... shit! I just have this feeling it's wrong; and if my brain would
work, I could remember why! I try to pull his hand away.
I cup his cock firmly and squeeze as he moves to take my hand
away. I feel his hand on top of mine, "Sure you wanna do that?"
If I'd
known this was going to be 'Make Xander's life a living hell' day, I never
would've bothered to get out of bed.
"Please stop," I say, having decided I'll just keep my eyes closed. I'll open them eventually, when the bad dream has ended. "Whatever you think I... You read me wrong. I don't want..."
"I can respect that," I say, before turning my hand
over quickly. I take his hand place it over *my* cock. "But see? Not just
you."
Oh,
god. Not a bad dream anymore. Because in my bad dreams, he just mocks me for
wanting him but he doesn't want me too. But now... he's turned on. And if I
could believe it was because of me, then...
It still wouldn't matter. And now I remember why. Well, one of the reasons, anyway. Happiness clause. Happiness is bad, very bad for him.
He
starts pulling his hand away but I don't let him. He feels too damn good and
I'm too damn horny. Bet he's pretty good with his hand. I'd love to find that
out.
I notice
the seatbelt light shut off. We're actually flying. Wow. My first time.
I glance over at him before leaning towards him and licking his lips. Damn, I'm horny.
Shit.
He's just going to hold my hand there, until I give in and jerk him off? No way
in hell is that going to happen. I'm just about to tell him that, when I
feel... Oh fuck. That was his tongue. Does that mean he's just.... right...
there? And if I open my eyes I'll see him so close and --
Breathe.
Deep breaths. Because this is just Angel, and he's still soulboy. Even if he's
liking tormenting me, which I probably deserve for all the hateful things I've
said and done, he's still got that conscience. So I can use that to my
advantage here.
I *am* already shaking, so that'll add to the effect. "Angel, please don't," I whisper, my eyes still squeezed shut tightly.
Silly boy. "'M not *Angel*," I whisper softly into
his ear, before licking his neck.
FUCK!
I'm wondering if I have anything - ANYTHING - I can use as
a stake or a cross or... wait. It's two in the afternoon. And I know it's a huge risk, but I can't *not* try. I lunge
over him and reach for the window shade.
I can still hear the sun mocking me. I can't help it. I'm not
*supposed* to be out right now. I hadn't really planned on putting this theory
of Darla's to the test either. But as he reaches for the window shade, I don't
stop him. He thinks he's going to be the big, strapping hero. Let him think it
for a few minutes. Makes it sweeter for me in the end.
I pull the window shade up, part of me thinking as I do
that this is way too easy. He should've snapped my neck or something. But the
other part of me refuses to listen. I just won, for once. That's all.
I sit
back quickly, to keep from getting caught on fire, too. But there's no fire. No
screaming. I look at him and he's just smiling back at me.
"How?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," I say with a smile.
"Now would you mind shutting it? The light hurts my eyes."
"Shut it yourself," I reply. And I know, it's a
bad idea to be snippy to the evil vampire; but I'd rather go down with a fight.
Even if it's a futile one.
I chuckle and he relaxes just a bit for a split second,
before I grab his wrist. I shove his hand between my legs. "You can one of
two things with this hand. What'll it be?" I growl softly at him.
I try
to pull my hand away, but he squeezes my wrist harder. Shit. He'll break it.
"What's the other thing?"
No, I don't want to know. Why do I always do or say the wrong thing around evil demons? But I left Sunnydale after Buffy died so that I could have a 'normal' life. So that I wouldn't have to try to remember how to act around demons. How ironic that I can't seem to get away from them.
"Shut the window-shade," I growl.
"Oh."
So on second thought, I think I will be reasonable and shut the shade for him.
After all, I *did* open it. So it's only nice of me to... I'm so glad I have
figured how to babble in my head, rather than out loud.
I lean over him and grab the shade, lowering it.
As he leans over me, I rub my knee against his cock before
cupping him with my hand. "'Course you're only post-poning the
inevitable," I whisper as I brush my lips against his ear and he takes his
seat again.
That
shiver was fear. And the fact that I'm still hard, that's only because of the
adrenaline rush. Yes, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
But I'm also not in the mood for the mind-games I remember Angelus is expert at. So.... "Oh you mean you're going to kill me?" I ask. "I'm so shocked, really. That's not like you at all. But you know what? Just do it. I don't care."
BACK TO THE HOME OF MILE HIGH CLUB
BACK TO THE INDEX OF CED & EW FICS