Hurt

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WARNING: [NC-17] This story contains graphic m/m sex (consensual), sexual violence and bad language.

SPOILER ALERT: Contains spoilers for the Buffy episode 'Graduation Day, Part Two'.

DISCLAIMER: Joss Whedon, 20th Century Fox, Mutant Enemy, and/or the WB Television Network own these characters. I've just borrowed them for this story. No copyright infringement is intended or inferred.

TIMELINE: Set immediately after 'Graduation Day, Part Two'.

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Xander recoiled as the door was wrenched open before he'd done more than raise his fist to knock. Angel loomed in the doorway, his face all harsh lines in the moonlight. The faintest ghost of a smirk tugged at his mouth as he glanced at Xander's hand, frozen in mid-air. Xander felt the familiar knife-twist of hatred deep in his gut.

"What do you want?" There was a raw edge to Angel's voice. The day's events were still too fresh, too close, for all of them.

Angel studied Xander intently, his expression unreadable apart from a flicker of curiosity. Unnerved by that close scrutiny, Xander had a sudden urge to blurt out the truth - having nothing better to do with his life, he'd come for the malicious satisfaction of tormenting the vampire.

Xander blinked, realising that Angel had retreated inside. The open door was the only invitation that he was going to get, so he took it. The mansion had a cold, unlived in feel, even though its occupant was not yet gone. Angel waited by the empty hearth, a more than usually forbidding looking marring his features. Xander ground to a halt in the centre of the room.

"So ... Angel."

"So ... Xander."

"So, you're really going?"

A humourless laugh escaped Angel as he advanced a little towards Xander.

"What, you came to talk me into staying?"

"No. I just wanted to be sure you were finally leaving."

Xander was back on familiar territory now, and the icy stare that Angel fixed on him did nothing to dampen his cheerful hostility.

"I knew you hadn't been killed in the fight, and I wanted to check you hadn't changed your mind."

"I haven't."

"That's good."

"You never could accept me like the others."

"I'm not the only one, Dead Boy. Everybody will be relieved when you've gone. Especially Willow and Giles. They've never forgiven you for the things you've done, and I can't say I blame them."

Xander couldn't keep a malicious smile from his face when Angel flinched and looked away.

"That wasn't me."

"Yeah, that's what you keep saying. But I don't trust you and I never will."

"Fortunately, no one cares what you think." Angel smiled nastily. "Oh Xander, I'm sorry. I forgot, you're the key guy now."

"At least I'm there. I don't run off and join the other team. Like you ... or Faith. Yeah, you and Faith...I bet you really did -"

"Shut up."

If Xander heard the taut control in Angel's voice, he ignored its implications, moving closer rather than backing off.

"Or what - you'll shut me up? You need an excuse? Come on Angel, shut me up."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? I'm not going to play your twisted little game."

This brought Xander up short.

"What game?"

"The reason you're here now, doing this. The reason you keep volunteering for the dangerous stuff."

"I'm trying to help. I am helping. Not like you. All you do is hurt people."

"That's all over now."

"It's not over, though, is it? You're still hurting people. You fed off Buffy, and I never thought even you would do something as low as that ..."

Angel tried to walk away, but Xander followed him, relentless.

"All you've ever done is make her suffer. Now she's all cut up because you're leaving. But she'll get over it. She'll get over you. She'll find someone new. I didn't get there first, but maybe I'll -"

Angel's fist caught Xander square on the jaw. Somehow he managed to stay on his feet, his face twisted into an almost comic look of shock.

"Don't talk about Buffy. You don't know what it's like to be in love with someone like her. To have her love you, and not be able to be with her."

Xander opened his mouth to reply. Instead, the air came whooshing out of his lungs as Angel hit him in the stomach. Xander doubled over in pain.

"I'm sick of your hatred, your jealousy."

Xander was still gasping for air as Angel grabbed him by the shirt front and hauled him upright.

"I'd like to be able to blame this on my demon. He gets off on pain."

Angel's fist smashed into Xander's jaw again. Xander hit the floor and stayed there.

"But it isn't true. This isn't my demon. It's me."

A heavy boot glanced off Xander's ribs, and he curled up defensively.

"I just don't give a fuck about you, Xander. I don't care what you think of me. I don't care if I hurt you."

One more kick hammered into Xander's side, then a strange, uneasy stillness settled over the room. Angel watched Xander slowly uncurl.

Xander struggled up onto his elbows, but a foot on his chest forced him down again. Xander's harsh breathing seemed to echo around the room as Angel continued to stare at him. Xander swallowed audibly as Angel caught sight of his erection. Their eyes locked. Then Angel jerked his foot back, as though burnt.

Angel turned away as Xander rose unsteadily to his feet. Xander moved closer, reaching for the vampire. Angel whirled, flooring Xander with a punch he didn't even see coming. He found himself back on the floor, pinned beneath Angel's body.

"Is this what you want?" Angel hissed. He pressed himself against Xander's aching groin, ignoring the moan that Xander couldn't suppress. Xander's eyes closed in pleasure, only to snap open as Angel slapped him hard across the face. "Or is this what you're after?"

"You bastard." Xander choked out the words, making Angel grin at the mixture of hatred and desire in his voice. Then panic set in as he saw the vampire slip into game face. Angel laughed.

"Are you afraid I'll go all evil again and kill you?" he taunted. "Or are you scared that I might hate you enough to do it myself?"

Xander struggled, trying to dislodge the other man's solid weight. Angel held him down, noting with grim amusement that his own cock was rising in response to the warm body squirming beneath him.

Xander finally subsided, breathless with need and harder than ever. He glared as Angel ripped open his trousers and yanked them off. Angel was surprisingly gentle as he teased the boxers down over that raging erection. Before Xander had time to adjust to this new approach, he was flipped onto his stomach with effortless strength. He gasped as his tender flesh connected with the cold, hard floor. His head swam as pain, then disbelief, then pounding lust wrestled for control of his brain.

Xander heard trousers being unzipped and a rustle of clothing, then felt firm hands grasp his hips. He wanted to giggle hysterically. Angel's skin felt so surreally unremarkable. It should have been icy, alien, not refreshingly cool. The giggle died stillborn as his rear end was hoisted into the air, and he felt something hard and insistent press against him. He yelled as Angel penetrated him, his cock feeling insanely huge as it drove in inch by endless inch.

Xander struggled, trying to pull away from that painful intrusion. Angel tightened his grip, pulling Xander hard up against him, driving himself the rest of the way home. Xander cried out again, but this time pleasure was mingled with the pain.

Afterwards, Xander lay stretched out on his back. He stared blankly up at the ceiling, lost in the slowing of his heart rate and breathing. Tears he hadn't realised he'd shed were drying on his cheeks. Sweat began to cool his bruising skin. His hand was sticky with his own cum.

"I didn't do this deliberately," he confessed, still not looking at the man lying next to him. "I didn't know what I was doing. But you were right."

Movement made him look over, and he saw Angel stand up.

"You know, the pain makes everything else go away. It's not just the pain. Mortal terror tends to make you forget how much your life sucks. It's like -- Angel?"

By the time Xander was on his feet, Angel had left the room. The splash of running water reached his ears.

"Angel?"

Xander listened to the sound of movement nearby, but Angel didn't return. Xander suddenly felt a chill that had nothing to do with his lack of clothing. An unnameable sensation roiled in his stomach, then lay still. Angel reappeared, coat and suitcase in hand.

"Angel?" Now the anger was back, a slow burn that drove out the cold.

Angel simply paused on his way to the door, not turning or even looking in Xander's direction.

"I told you, Xander. I don't care."

Xander heard the door shut firmly. His clothes lay forgotten on the floor. He heard a car roar into life, then move off into the night. Somewhere deep inside him, he heard something break.

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