Manchild

A/N: Hey people! Big thankies to everyone who commented on the last chapter: LynZ (Connor getting topped? Hm, possibly!), cas, Bobbers and Suzaku24. Sorry it's been a while between updates and sorry this one is so short. Cas, I know I promised Angel was gonna be in this chapter and got you all excited about it but I decided for the sake of Connor & Seb's growing relationship that I had to write a few other things first. However, rest assured that Angel WILL be in this fic a bit later on and Connor WILL have a few things to say that daddy may not like so much.

But before that, a little drama...

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In the last chapter:

Switching off the light, Sebastian shuts the door and climbs into the bed next to his non-sober guest. Placing his hand over Connor’s forehead, he finds it less clammy than it was before.

“Feeling better?”

“A bit. Thanks.” Remorsefully, Connor adds, “Sorry about your wall.”

“Don’t worry about it, darlin’.” Gathering Connor’s body closer to his, Sebastian kisses the crown of the kid’s head. “Nobody got hurt and that’s the main thing.”

“Y’know what, Sebastian?” Slurring drunkenly, Connor proclaims, “You’re really, really nice.”

With an affectionate grin, the twenty-six year old returns, “So are you. I’m glad you tracked me down tonight, Connor. Seeing you again...Greatest thing ever.”

“Same here. Are we boyfriends now?”

“I think we are, gingerbread. You all right with that?”

“Course.” Smirking lopsidedly in the dark, Connor adds, “Angel’s gonna freak when I tell him, though.”


***


It's much later and Connor is asleep. Well, after all that exhaustive shagging on the couch he ought to be but he hears something, jolting awake and instinctually grabbing the first solid object within reach; a wooden lamp on the small table beside the bed, holding it up like a weapon. He peers into the darkened room with his nocturnal vision and sees Sebastian standing near the doorway.

“What’s going on?” Connor urges, ready to attack and destroy.

“I’m just getting up to take a piss.” Arching him an amused glance, Sebastian says, “You can put that down now.”

Connor stares at the lamp in his hand and then slowly replaces it beside the bed, looking embarrassed. There are millions of noises in the world that his hyper-sensitive ears pick up: cars going past, cats fighting in the street, trees rustling, cockroaches scuttling, clocks ticking, taps dripping. He can block most of them out, usually only listening for sounds of imminent danger such as dogs barking, footsteps, creaking floorboards, breaking glass, locks being forced, objects being moved. Those kinds of sounds filter in and warn him, even when he’s fast asleep.

And so does someone simply climbing out bed, it appears.

“Thought we had an intruder,” he explains abashedly.

“Sweetie, I know you’re in the habit of being all watchdog 24-7 but you don’t have to be here. My high-tech alarm system kicks in as soon as the garage door is shut. Ain’t nobody or nothing getting in here without us knowing about it,” Sebastian assures him. “So you can relax, okay? It’s gonna be a long sleepless night if you keep springing into action every time I roll over.”

“Sorry,” Connor mutters, groggily scratching at his head. “I guess I’m just not used to sleeping with anybody else.”

“Well, get used to it, boyfriend, because you’re gonna be doing that a lot.” Sebastian teasingly winks at him before making his way down the hall.

After he leaves the room, Connor settles back down under the covers, quite okay with being Sebastian’s frequent bed buddy. Relaxing much more now that he knows there’s security installed, he yawns and wriggles further into the comfortable mattress, stretching his legs out between the crisp sheets. He’s still half-drunk but he’s past that needing-to-hurl stage and has reached the sleepy, contented stage so he presses his face into the pillow, breathing in the homey fragrance of apple fabric softener and the salon-fresh scent of Sebastian’s hair. It’s so warm and cosy and quiet here and soon his eyelids drift closed. He’s not awake when Sebastian returns but somehow, Connor knows he’s back and reaches out to him, curling his fingers protectively around the older man’s wrist, as if he doesn’t want Sebastian to leave again. Feeling truly blessed to have his blue-eyed boy finally back beside him where he belongs, Sebastian lays his hand lovingly upon Connor’s smaller one and it’s not long before he joins his snoozing companion in the realm of dreams.

It is near dawn and the room is bathed in grey light when Connor is roused from his deep slumber.

“Hey.” Sebastian nudges him from behind. “You awake?”

“Am now,” Connor returns yawningly, reluctant to get up at this early hour. Even though he isn't like his parents, he still has the sleeping patterns of a vampire. He sluggishly rolls over to see Sebastian sitting up in bed with a worried expression. Instantly alert, all traces of sleep vanish and Connor draws his brows together in concern.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know.” Sebastian shakes his head helplessly, black curls tumbling around the sides of his face. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

The older male pulls the blanket aside, anxiously glancing down at himself. His normally tight wash-board stomach is bulging and swollen. As Connor stares at it in shock, Sebastian’s rounded belly undulates, small bumps appearing and disappearing under the skin as something moves inside of him. Or slithers.

His whole body going cold with paralysing horror, Connor whispers, “God, not again.”

“What did you do to me, Connor?” Sebastian’s voice is edged with stark panic, his face filling with sudden terror. “What the fuck did you do to me?”

For the second time that morning, Connor jolts in bed, his eyes flying open, wide and wild, his heart hammering and skin slick with sweat. He gets a further fright at the figure looming to his right but it’s just the cardboard Terminator cut-out, gazing impassively at him through dark sunglasses. The only sound is the LP clock ticking on the wall. Connor quickly turns to find Sebastian lying on his back with one arm above his head, eyes closed and cheek pressed into the pillow, breathing deeply and peacefully. Relief rushes through the boy’s veins like morphine as he realises he was only dreaming.

It wasn’t real.

Still, with his track record he has to be absolutely sure. With shaking fingers he lifts the sheet rumpled around Sebastian’s waist, giving a silent prayer of gratitude when he sees that the twenty-six year old’s abdomen is perfectly flat and level, the only thing beneath the skin being hard muscle. Letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, Connor swings his legs over the side of the bed, pushing stringy perspiration-soaked bangs out of his eyes.

Just a nightmare. He hasn’t had one of those in a while. Didn’t miss them much, either. But that’s all it was - a bad dream.

Having gotten very familiar with all things demonic, Connor knows that with some species the male is the one to carry and deliver spawn, just like seahorses. It is common for human females to be impregnated by male demons but not the other way round. As far as he is aware, it is impossible for men in this dimension to bear offspring; human, demon or any other variety. Sebastian is safe. It won’t happen to him. Connor’s smart enough to realise that the nightmare was just a manifestation of his own fears and his own past experiences. Nothing more. However, it has left him with a feeling of dread, like it was an omen, as if things are not going to bode well for him and the other man if he stays here.

No matter how awesome last night was.

Connor’s super-efficient metabolism has processed the alcohol in his system, filtering it out, neutralising it, leaving not even a trace of a hangover, but he still remembers what happened. In excruciating detail. Last night, he said and did such filthy things that thinking of them he feels his face heat with shame. He was acting like a total slut. He allowed Sebastian to do stuff to him that if anyone else tried would result in their arm getting ripped clean off but he let it happen because it was exciting and new and yeah, it felt incredible. Every bit of it. Immersed in the flush of drunken desire, in the rawness of male sexuality, Connor was so free, so uninhibited. The words that came out of his mouth at one particular point were obscene and pornographic yet he loved saying them. When he took Sebastian’s body and all but broke it with violent lust, Connor experienced true, consuming passion and it was invigorating, made his blood run hotter than the lava pits of Qor’toth. Making Sebastian cry out with pleasure made him feel more alive, more masculine and powerful than any amount of killing and hunting has ever done.

And afterwards, when they were lying together on the floor talking, he felt so close to Sebastian, closer than Connor’s been with anybody. He felt emotions he’s never felt before and admitted private feelings he wouldn’t have dared to with anyone else. He did that because he believed he and Sebastian actually had something together. Something good. Something strong. Something comforting and nourishing that made living in this place feel less callous and brutal.

He saw a future with Sebastian.

But now, in the sober, too-bright light of morning, that idea seems ridiculous and absurd. It’s as though the previous evening was a rose-tinted fantasy, like it wasn’t true, as though everything he felt was only what he wanted to feel. Last night Sebastian showed him such aching sweetness and heart-stopping ecstasy but Connor can’t be touched by heaven like that without doubting the validity of it, of his own wretchedly high expectations. It’s like he’s waiting for the minute that he snaps out of it, when he realises that it’s not reality and nothing in the world is the way it ought to be. His entire existence has been filled with moments of sheer joy followed by moments of utter misery. Every time he thought he found happiness it turned to ash around him, like the way he emerged from his own mother’s womb. Why should this experience be any different? In the far reaches of his soul Connor has this unwavering belief that he can’t ever be truly happy. It’s just not something he’s meant to have in this dimension, or any other. Instances like these are a cruel tease, a joke being played on him by powers unknown and unkind.

He’s not good enough for Sebastian Christensen.

He never will be. Once Sebastian learns about the horrible things he has done, he will abandon Connor, leave him; betray him, just like everyone else. The auburn-haired teenager sits on the side of the bed, staring blankly at the floor, so bitter with himself and his miserable, shitty life that he can taste it in his mouth like acid. With unpleasant clarity, he remembers every single time that someone has betrayed him or lied to him or deceived him. He remembers every single hurtful word ever spoken to him, every stab in the back, every slap in the face, every time his heart has been ripped out and stomped on like a piece of raw meat. And Connor is not going to wait around for that to happen again. He doesn’t want to leave the warmth and comfort of Sebastian’s bed but he knows it will only be a matter of time before the other man does something bad to him. They always do. Everyone he ever cares about ends up screwing him over and he’s tired of it, of being used and treated like crap, like his feelings are insignificant and unimportant.

Like HE is insignificant and unimportant.

Being with somebody if they make him feel like that? So not worth it. He may as well be alone. Like usual. The thought of going out the door and never coming back is tearing him up inside but he knows he has to go now, before the pain overcomes him. Emotions are useless; they expose his weaknesses, they make him susceptible to suffering and torment and he’s had enough of that in his eighteen years of living. He has to be tough. He has to shield himself. He needs to shove his fucking feelings into a one-way portal, send them back to somewhere bottomless and dark like Qor’toth because he sure as hell doesn’t need them here.

All those things that used to define Connor – resentment, hatred, hostility – those are tolerable emotions and he lets them return, lets them engulf him in a sour, choking swamp, knowing that it will make it easier for him to do this.

To walk away from the most amazing night he’s ever had and the most amazing person he’s ever met.

To walk away from Sebastian Christensen.


***

To be continued...