Silent Night
Ragged breathing. He was aware that it was him running, even though it felt like he was watching himself from the outside. He had been running for hours, feeling driven by urgent needs of this body, but feeling very free at the same time, as if released from something he could hardly remember. Conscious thoughts seemed more and more difficult and were finally drowned out by the beating of his heart. Pounding. Breathing. Prowling.
Breathing slowly and steadily, Angel stood barefoot in the small courtyard of his hideout, which was brightly lit by moonlight, and went through the motions of his exercises routine. In, hold it, out. Repeat. Dressed only in sweatpants, he enjoyed the balmy weather, and if a niggling voice at the back of his head pointed out that he was showing off to no-audience-whatsoever, he hushed it quickly. Breathe in, breathe out, even if you don't need to, move to the next position, keep breathing.
When he heard crashing sounds on the other side of the high walls, Angel was nearly relieved about it. Any change was welcome, anything to keep the nightmares away for a while, to keep the dark thoughts and darker desires locked up where they belonged.
He jumped onto the wall easily, listened for the direction the noise was coming from and dropped down into the bushes on the other side. Whatever creature roamed there, it was bigger and heavier than man or animal. The sounds had changed, terrified squeaking first replaced the crashing sounds and were in turn cut off abruptly. Whatever beast was lose, it had found its prey. Still, Angel silently kept moving towards the spot he had last heard the noise from. There was no knowing if the monster would not go after a human nevertheless, if its hunger had not been stilled by the woodland creature it had just devoured.
But the vampire was careless; he felt the movement a second too late, and by then the werewolf was on top of him, trying to unscrew Angel's head while biting off his arm. In the ensuing undignified wrestle, Angel discovered to his surprise that he was fighting a familiar figure, if not face - he had recognized Oz's smell.
"Damn. Can't kill you then," he snarled angrily, and prepared to fight not too hard, just to make sure he didn't kill Willow's boyfriend. Or ex-boyfriend, he wasn't sure about that.
But what he was prepared to treat as a playful puppy quickly tore off chunks of Angel's clothing, and as his torn sweatpants came off he couldn't suppress the thought that he was glad he hadn't worn his Kashmir sweater tonight. Just when Angel wanted to get serious and knock the werewolf out, Oz threw him off-balance and bit him in the neck, keeping his strong wolf jaws locked on the fragile semi-human flesh.
Oz had stilled his hunger, at least his hunger for food and for the kill, but something else was still burning deep inside of him. Rage, frustration, and a need, a need for ...
Angel kept very still. Beheading by massive jaws was serious for a creature like himself. Well, for any creature really, but some things made even vampires wary. At the back of his mind he heard a female voice say mockingly: "You never were a fighter, Angel, don't start fighting now" and he forced himself to relax. With the benefit of hindsight, that might have been a mistake.
He felt something warm, wet and heavy slap once or twice against his exposed buttocks, and then Oz's cock, dripping with pre-cum, had surprisingly little difficulty to enter Angel's oh-so-relaxed ass. He clamed up at the first hint of what was going on, but whenever his muscles worked instinctively to push the foreign part out, Oz's slippery member managed to slide in a little deeper.
It hurt even a vampire-strength-endowed fellow like Angel. Accepting that fact, considering that he'd already been penetrated and pointy canines still pierced his exposed throat and neck, he tried to relax again, and not think too deeply about what he was doing here.
"Should be over soon, must have spent himself," he thought. How long did it take dogs to mate? Weren't animals all woof-bam-thank-you-spot? Over in 5 minutes ...
"Fuck, what the hell was that?!"
Angel bucked and winced, as unrelentingly steely jaws dug deeper into his bleeding flesh. Oz had seemed to grow bigger once inside, and his cock had touched something that felt bloody good, and as he kept moving inside of Angel, the vampire felt heat spread through his undead body, glorious heat, emanating from the hot, furry body at his back, but also from inside his own, or at least it felt like it.
Oz's dick had seemed slender at first, even in wolf-shape, for which Angel's ass had been grateful, but now it expanded, it seemed to have grown a kind of knot, and that touched upon Angel's prostate in a maddening way that kept the vampire squirming, first with embarrassment but soon with unmistakable pleasure.
The werewolf didn't take any chances, though, and every spasmodic movement of the body pinned under him was rewarded by a growl and a tightening of jaws. Angel thought he was going to go mad, unable to respond even in a non-aggressive way, unable to move his hands to his own throbbing dick straining for release, all of his muscles clenching and unclenching in turmoil like his master, unsure what to feel, unsure what to do.
Oz had gotten into a steady rhythm now, forearms planted just under Angel's armpits, hind legs between Angel's spread limbs, belly pressed onto Angel's smooth back, the fur rubbing constantly up and down as his patient, insatiable wolf-dick rubbed back and forth inside of Angel.
Angel who realized the only motion he was capable of was thrusting back at Oz, and who took that opportunity. In, out, pull back, push back, ugghh! Angel finally came, semen spurting on the grass below them, narrowly missing his nostrils.
He was prevented from collapsing by the vice-like hold Oz's arms held his torso in. His relaxed muscles allowed suddenly more room inside his anus, and the animal on top sure knew an opening when it saw one.
Oz pulled out his dick as far as the swollen knot would allow and then slammed in faster than before, once, twice, often in quick succession, until Angel felt a yearning in his own penis again, but then it was suddenly over, he felt hot wet semen spurting up his colon, he felt his whole inside getting warm and filled and maybe he saw stars, it was a clear night after all, and then 200 or 300 pounds of heavy, furry flesh fell onto him and Angel did black out for a moment.
When he came to, he was able to shrug off the fast asleep werewolf still lying on top of him. He felt dawn coming, but they were in the thick of the trees and he was too exhausted to move right now.
As the sky turned a bit lighter, the snoring beside him became quieter, and with slight crackling of bones the wolf seemed to shed his fur and shrink in size and there was Oz, lying beside Angel, fast asleep and looking very peaceful.
Strangely, the sight made Angel madder than he had been before. The werewolf was a stupid, brute animal, not to be fought easily, the intercourse to be forgotten quickly. But looking at the red-headed boy, Angel wanted revenge. Oz's dick up his ass had made him horny but left him unsatisfied in the end.
Sweeet revenge ...
Recuperated, Angel stared at the pale figure lying on its side on the soft brown earth beneath him, the thick reddish lashes on the white cheeks, the wide sensual mouth, the now flaccid and innocent looking penis, the small round buttocks and those hips, much slimmer than his own. He started to jerk himself off.
After a quick look around - you never knew who or what was prowling the Sunnydale woods at any time - Angel bent down to lick Oz 's now baby smooth chest and pink nipples. The exhausted boy did not wake, but his body was quick to respond.
Angel moved down and licked Oz pink little ass, then tried to wet his puckered hole which was so conveniently exposed by the boy's recumbent position. But he was not been able to uphold his Angelus-mood for long, his blasted soul intervened. His pre-cum was enough to slick his own penis, but Oz's rectum would need more lube than that, and there was none at hand.
Pondering his new dilemma, Angel scratched his head, and therein lay the solution: his exclusive hair-gel, which he had applied liberally to prevent floppiness during his exercises, would surely do the trick! He repeatedly moved his free hand through his hair, then teased Oz's hole open with slick fingers. A wicked grin spread across Angel's face as Oz's sleepy whimpers turn to sounds of pleasure, and he responded with a similarly guttural growl. He gave his erected penis a last polish and set it's head against Oz opening.
Angel entered him gently, which nevertheless awoke Oz, but the boy seemed too drained to fight, and would be easily overcome in his human state. Half-asleep, he moaned something unintelligible and closed his eyes again. Angel had thought he might have to hold him down, but now he could put his hands to better use. Holding Oz's hips in place with one hand, he started stroking the boy's dick with the other and was soon rewarded by rhythmic clenching and unclenching of the buttocks.
Revenge was totally gone from his mind as he entered Oz fully. He still hoped that no-one ever found out about this - but then Angel pushed all thoughts of Buffy from his mind - they tend to depress him greatly anyway, he needed release more than ever, and he certainly needed more than kisses. With a grunt and a push he lost himself in the sensation of plunging his erection to the hilt into the tender behind of the sweet little redhead in front of him.
"What happened?"
"You mean ... just now? Or earlier ..."
"Was there more?"
"Let's just say, your inner wolf caught me and gave me the original idea for what has just happened between us"
"Oh. Right. Sorry."
"That's alright. Call it quits".
They looked over each other's shoulders while talking, and a less taciturn person might have feel prompted to whistle at that moment.
"Sun's up. And we have no clothes," came the typically dry voice of Oz.
"Mhm, I know. You will have to get them from my place," Angel replied lazily, lying back down. "And get me a large blanket while you are there."
He had smelled dawn long before the sun came up, but they were in deep shade and close to his haunts, and lately he had cared less and less about hiding from the sun anyway. Looking up at the canopy of the trees above them, he watched the wind shake loose some leaves, or was it needles? They drifted down and he recognized white petals, and as they softly glinted in the early sunlight he smiled a little and thought of snow.