Manchild

A/N: Huuuuuuuuge amounts of apologies go out to the fantastic followers of this series. I'm genuinely sorry for making you wait so long to get this update and truly do appreciate all the comments and reviews you've given me over the last couple of months. Specifically these very kind folks:

Cass - you gotta be my most loyal fan! Thanks so much for sticking with me through the large gaps between updates. I hope this chapter is everything you've wanted and more!

LynZ - Ditto! You've been another faithful fan and given me lots of constructive comments over the months. I'm very grateful for your encouragement and advice. This story has been written for wonderful people like you :)

Buho - I've never heard from you before but I'm happy I have now! I'm glad you've been enjoying the series and hopefully you'll enjoy this part too.

Winters_Solitude - thank you for giving me such a great review and showing that you actually felt all the emotion I put into the last chapter. I appreciate that. (And yeah, Angel and Spike? So doing it...)

kai - Wait no longer for here it is! Have fun reading it! That goes for all you guys...


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Chapter Eight.

Following the intensely emotional confessional where Sebastian finally made Connor believe that he’s not evil and does deserve to be happy, the new couple doze for a little while and this time, Connor doesn’t have any nightmares. He’s got no reason to now. Even when he’s asleep he can feel Sebastian there beside him, hugging him, protecting him, loving him, and it gives the eighteen year old a sense of security he’s never had before. In the past, he’s always protected himself. Taken care of himself. Slept by himself.

Been alone.

Well, not anymore. Just knowing that somebody wants to be with him is the most incredibly comforting thing ever.

After an hour or so, the younger male and the older one wake up absolutely ravenous. Sebastian hasn’t eaten since yesterday midafternoon, before he got dressed to go out on the date he never made it to and his stomach is feeling it.

“Man, I’m starving,” he declares, stifling a yawn. He looks at Connor, still cradled to his chest. “Are you hungry, babe?”

“I’m always hungry,” Connor confirms, sitting up in the bed and stretching his long, shapely arms over his head. Last night he had those two chocolate bars and the box of Turkish Delights but they didn’t make much of a dent in his appetite. No matter what time of the day it is, he’s always keen for food.

“I’ll make you breakfast. Or more like brunch since it’s eleven o’clock already,” Sebastian offers, getting up and holding his hand out to his teen partner. “How does egg-white omelettes with mushrooms, peppers and spinach sound?”

Connor takes Sebastian’s assistance to stand. “Sounds healthy.”

“Life of a model,” Sebastian sighs, rummaging in his drawer for a clean pair of boxers. “Gotta watch what I eat. I’ll put bacon in yours, though.”

Pulling on his t-shirt, Connor quips, “What, think I’m too skinny?”

“Never said that.” Sebastian yanks on a pair of weathered indigo jeans and grins. “In fact, didn’t I make a point last night of highlighting all the bits I love about you?”

Grinning back, Connor clearly remembers Sebastian kissing each and every one of them. And then some. “Yeah. Point taken.”

Clad in just his boxers and the designer jeans, the same ones he modelled in that glossy advertisement, Sebastian grabs an elastic band from the top of his dresser and looking in the mirror, he smooths his unruly hair back into a pony tail with both hands, Connor standing behind him and watching the muscles in the taller man’s arms and shoulders bunching as he does so, the Arabic tattoo he got in Connor’s honour scrolling across his lower back in ebony swirls and contrasting superbly with that smooth, bronze skin of his. The jeans sit below his waist, drawing the eye to his chiselled hip-line, the faded dark blue denim skimming over his perfectly firm ass and outlining the strong shape of his thighs.

Connor can’t believe he scored all that hotness as his lover. How damn lucky is he?

“I can feel you looking.” Sebastian twists the band around his gathered curls and pulls them through the loop, turning around with an amused expression. “Not that I mind.”

Connor shrugs embarrassedly. “Well, you’re hot.”

People say that to Sebastian all the time and honestly, it gets boring, but when it comes from Connor it’s a thrill to hear. Because unlike most people, Connor digs who he is as a person as well and doesn’t think of Sebastian as simply a good-looking clothes horse.

“Still just want me for my body?” Sebastian can’t help teasing as he slips on a green checked shirt with roll-up sleeves.

The auburn-haired teenager continues staring at him but his face is solemn and when he speaks, his voice resonates with seriousness. “Not just for your body.”

Also turning solemn, Sebastian queries, “For what then?”

Stepping up to him, Connor lays his hand on the bigger male’s chest, right over his heart. “For this. You gave it to me,” he reminds quietly. “I won’t break it, Sebastian.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Sebastian whispers, pulling Connor in and pressing his lips to the boy’s temple. “You keep saying things like that and I’m gonna have to undress you again, take you back to bed and make love to you for the rest of the day.”

“You can if you want,” Connor whispers back. “I’ll let you.”

Drawing back to look at the demon hunter in surprise, Sebastian asks, “Really? You’d actually want me to do that? Be on top?”

Connor gives him a nod, gazing up with open and honest blue eyes. “I trust you. I know you won’t hurt me.”

“Like I could anyway,” the taller one comments, repeating what Connor said to him only a few hours ago. He caresses Connor’s cheek with gentle fingertips, smiling at his gorgeously trusting young partner. “I’ll definitely take you up on that, sugar. Definitely. But not right now. Right now I need something to eat or I’m gonna pass out.”

Mentioning food makes Connor’s own stomach rumble and he smiles sheepishly. “Getting that way myself.”

“C’mon.” Sebastian tugs at Connor’s arm. “I better feed you before you waste away into nothing.”

While Connor collects his knife, wooden stakes and other vamp-killing supplies from the lounge room and straps them back onto his ankles, Sebastian starts cooking in the kitchen, playing a Savage Garden CD and singing along as he chops and whisks.

“Come stand a little bit closer, breathe in and get a bit higher. You’ll never know what hit you when I get to you...” He can reach all the falsetto notes without even thinking about it, his tone naturally breathy and sexy, much like the Australian vocalist Darren Hayes.

“Ooh, I want you, I don’t know if I need you but ooh, I’d die to find out...”

Coming back into the kitchen with its tantalising aroma of frying bacon, Connor remarks, “You got a good voice.”

“Thanks.” The brunette male smiles gratefully at him. “It’s nice to know I don’t suck entirely. Oh, before I forget – I have something for you.” He hands Connor a CD case.

“Guess who?”

Connor eyes off the cover which is a picture of five cool-looking dudes with rock-star hairstyles sitting on a long couch. Sebastian’s mate Oliver is one of them and Sebastian himself is on the end on the line, wearing smoky eye-makeup and a black Michael Jackson hat. He’s by far the coolest.

“Your band.”

Sebastian nods. “I’m normally bass guy and backing vocals but if you go to track ten, you’ll hear more of me crooning.” He grins self-consciously. “In fact, I get to do the whole song.”

“Thanks,” Connor utters, thinking that he’s going to put this on as soon as he gets home. “What would you do if your band got really famous? Would you give up modelling?”

“I’ll have to give up modelling one day. I’m gonna get too old,” Sebastian states nonchalantly, accepting that his job has a use-by date. He’s not going to resort to surgery to keep his looks, like everyone else in this town. He likes being silicone-free.

“I love the band and those guys are my best buddies but I’m not counting on us making a lot of money. I’m investing now, while I’m earning good dough so I don’t have to worry about surviving later on, when my face starts to sag and I get three chins.”

Glancing up at Sebastian, Connor thinks that will never happen to him, not if he takes after his mother who in that photo looks more like his older sister than the woman that gave birth to him. He’s got the same skin as her, naturally brown without the need for tanning, and glowing with vitality from the inside. Sebastian may age over time but it’s going to be gracefully.

He and Connor sit at the kitchen counter to have their egg-white omelettes which are very tasty, considering they’re health food. Even the bacon Sebastian put in Connor’s omelette is trimmed of fat, which Connor usually thinks is the best part but doesn’t miss today, not with the extra mushrooms, baby spinach and bell peppers to add flavour. The eighteen year old eats the whole lot well before Sebastian does, picking up toast crumbs with a fingertip and licking them off. When Sebastian takes the last piece of mushroom off his fork, they push their empty plates aside to finish up with coffee and fruit juice, Connor choosing a blend of orange and mango.

Stirring synthetic sweetener into his mug of decaf coffee with skim soy milk, Sebastian clears his throat and says, “Connor, I have to tell you something.”

“Is it good or bad?” Connor questions warily, always suspicious when people say stuff like that.

“Neither,” Sebastian assures him. “It’s nothing to worry about. It’s just...you know that message wrinkly old Emel gave me? The beyond-the-grave one? It was from my father. He died four years ago.”

Connor’s eyes widen in shock. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise...” He trails off. Sebastian said his dad wasn’t around and there were no photos on the wall but Connor thought it was because they had a bad relationship and didn’t talk anymore. Not this.

In a soft voice, he chides, “You should have told me, Seb.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like to mention family funerals in the middle of a brilliant night.” The older male shrugs. “Kind of puts a downer on it.”

“What happened to him?” Connor presses, needing to know the whole story now.

“I guess I’ll start from the beginning,” Sebastian says, hands cupped around the hot steaming ceramic mug on the counter top, gazing absently into the latte-coloured liquid. “As I mentioned, my father and I weren’t close. He knew from an early age that I was gay and didn’t particularly like me being queer but he tolerated it. As long as I didn’t bring any boys home, he left me alone. His way of dealing with it was to pretty much ignore me. Mom was great, though. She was always extremely supportive and I could talk to her about anything – my boyfriends, the first time I ever kissed anyone, the night I lost my virginity. She never judged me. She wasn’t just my mom; she was my closest friend. Still is.”

Connor listens to the tale intently; his head tilted slightly, glass of juice momentarily forgotten about.

“I was always into fashion and shopping and when I was sixteen an agent came up to me in a mall and offered me my first catwalk job. I was excited about it and so was my mother. However, dad didn’t like that idea. He didn’t want any son of his flaunting his body in front of the public. That wasn’t a job to him; it was an embarrassment and I was already enough of an embarrassment to him. In his eyes being a male model was no better than becoming a porn actor. He called me some terrible names.”

Frowning in remembrance, Sebastian’s fingers tighten around the mug. Connor doesn’t ask what those names were. He can well imagine.

“I said some things back. There was a huge fight. My mom told him to get out and threw his clothes on the sidewalk. They divorced soon after. I know it wasn’t my fault; they’d been fighting a lot and I guess that was the last straw. Mom adopted Kailee soon after and raised us on her own. I didn’t talk to my father after he left. Not once. He married some other woman, a rich horse breeder, but I wasn’t invited to the wedding. I wouldn’t have gone anyway,” Sebastian proclaims bitterly.

“A few years passed and I found out that dad had developed liver cancer. He asked to see me but I thought it was only to tell me that he was cutting me out of his will. I didn’t care. I didn’t want any of his money anyway. By that time my career was taking off and I was able to help my mom out – I bought her a new house and car and helped my sister open her own restaurant. I didn’t want or need his help, not for anything. When my father died I thought about not going to the funeral but in the end I did. It was only there that I found out the reason he wanted to see me. His wife said that he wanted to patch things up with me. To make peace and apologise for what happened. And I didn’t give him a chance to.”

Sebastian goes quiet, still staring into his coffee, recalling what Emel said about his father being proud of him in the end. “Aw, fuck,” he suddenly mumbles, wiping the tears from his cheeks that appeared out of nowhere.

“You okay?” Connor gently queries, touching Sebastian’s arm in concern.

The older man shakes his head, swallowing hard. “As you can see, Connor,” he says in a tight voice, “no matter what our fathers say or do to us, we still love them. You’re lucky that your dad wants to make things right with you while you still have time. Mine didn’t. He left it too late. We both did.”

He looks up with tear-stained green eyes, imploring Connor to understand why he’s revealed this painful story. “I don’t want to see you go down that same road, darlin’. I know it’s hard but you should try to talk to him. To Angel. You should try to forgive him because you’ve only got one father and when he’s gone you can’t say you’re sorry. Just think about it, okay?”

Nodding slowly, Connor answers, “Okay. I’ll think about it.”

Sebastian sniffs and takes a fortifying gulp of coffee. Totally changing the subject, he says, “I suppose I should take you home, huh? I’m sure you have things to do. Or kill.”

“Yeah. I’m going to trawl the sewers for demons and then I’m going the cemetery at sundown. That’s when the new vamps rise out of the earth,” the slayer-boy discloses. “Sometimes, there’s only one. Sometimes a lot. I like it when there’s a lot. Makes it more entertaining.”

“I see you’ve got tonight sorted. What about tomorrow night? What are you up to then?”

“You mean apart from ramming pointy sticks into undead creatures yet again?” Connor lifts a careless shoulder. “Nothing much.”

“Want to have dinner with me?”

“Like a date?”

Sebastian manages to smile at that. “Yeah. Like a date. You eat Indian food, right?”

“I eat any food. Oh. Except for raw tomatoes,” Connor amends, making a face of revulsion. “I think it’s the jelly stuff inside that turns me off.”

“Well, I don’t think there are any raw tomatoes in Indian cooking.”

“Sounds good, then,” Connor replies agreeably.

“Pick you up at seven? From your place?”

“Okay. You coming on one of your bikes?”

“On the blue one,” Sebastian affirms. “That’s how you’re getting home, too. Unless you’d rather take a bus?”

“Course not.” Connor grins in anticipation. “The blue bike is cool.”

They finish their beverages and Sebastian forces himself into a lighter mood, trying not to dwell on his late father’s emotional message, instead focusing on the good things floppy-eared Emel told him about Connor back in the motel reception, about how they are going to have an exciting life as romantic partners, provided Sebastian doesn’t let Connor get away from him. Which he isn’t going to. After everything they talked about last night, everything they confided and shared, Connor is his now, even though he hasn’t said he loves Sebastian back yet. It will happen sooner or later; Sebastian is sure of that and is not going to ask for it before Connor is ready. He doesn’t want to pressure the kid into saying what are essentially only words. Connor staying the night with him, opening up and showing his vulnerable, wounded side...that says more than words ever can.

While Sebastian clears their plates away and rinses them in the kitchen sink, Connor makes sure he hasn’t forgotten anything or left one of his stakes in Sebastian’s couch for him to accidentally sit on later. Before they leave, Sebastian brings out his cell phone and snaps a picture of Connor with the camera function.

“Memento,” he explains abashedly. “So I can prove to my friends that I’m not making you up. They think you sound too perfect to be real.”

Connor smiles and shakes his head. “I’m not perfect.”

“You are to me,” Sebastian concludes with a grin, slipping into sleazy photographer mode which is easy because he’s worked with loads of them. “C’mon, baby. Give me some love. Yeah, that’s it.”

He takes lots of pictures, not just of Connor but of both of them with their heads together, some of them being silly and sticking their tongues out, some smiling, some more sedate. Even though the vamp-killer doesn’t have a cell, Sebastian gives him his number, just in case Connor ever needs to contact him. Hell, he should just buy Connor a phone not only for emergencies but so he can message the kid late at night and wish him sweet dreams. Plus, there’s the whole text-sex thing. Yeah, for that reason alone he should get one.

Preparing for the ride home, Sebastian gives Connor a motorcycle jacket; miles too big of course, swamping the boy’s petite frame, the sleeves coming to the very tips of his fingers. Sebastian adds an extra-small size jacket onto the mental shopping list along with the cell phone and some leather gloves. Once they both have their jackets zipped up Sebastian gets another one of those elastic bands and ties Connor’s long red locks back for him, not wanting that beautiful hair to get all tangled in the wind. That hair is normally hanging in his face but when it’s tied back it really shows off the teenager’s exquisite bone structure and the fineness of his facial features, the great cheekbones, kissably-pouting red lips, tiny nose and captivating peacock-blue eyes rimmed with long lashes. With all that and his slender, girlish figure he could be a very successful model too, if he didn’t prefer sticking to the shadows all the time.

As Sebastian reaches for two helmets, Connor asks, “Do I have to wear one of those?”

“Yes, you do,” Sebastian answers firmly, handing a shiny black one to him. “It might not be the law but it’s MY law, okay? No helmet, no ride.”

“But I don’t need it. I got hit by a van once. Didn’t get a scratch on me,” Connor cheerfully volunteers.

“I know you think nothing can crack this tough little coconut of yours but I’d rather be safe than sorry, all right?” Sebastian stresses. At Connor’s doubtful look, he rejoins, “Hey, it’s not my riding you gotta worry about; it’s all the dickheads in cars who don’t look out for bikes. They’re the ones who cause the accidents. But this,” – he indicates to the helmet – “is just a precaution. I won’t let anything happen to you, I swear. I’m a very good rider.”

“I’m sure you are,” Connor replies assuredly, knowing how good Sebastian is at everything else he does: singing, making cocktails, cooking, kissing.

Sebastian collects his wallet and keys and once in the garage he opens the roller door and pushes the bike outside, starting it and letting the engine warm up. They put their helmets on and do up the chin-straps, Sebastian helping Connor with his since they have to be fastened a certain way to stay secure. Then the twenty-six year old kicks the stand up and swings a leg over his seat, sitting down and balancing the bike between his thighs. Flipping the helmet visor up he turns to pat the seat behind him, indicating for Connor to get on.

“I’ve never been on a bike before,” Connor admits, putting a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder and hopping onto the quietly idling motorcycle, finding the foot-pegs and putting his sneakered feet on each one of them.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Sebastian assures him, pushing his visor down. “Just lean into the corners with me and-” Here he grabs Connor’s arms and wraps them around his waist. “Hold on tight.”

The garage door shuts after them and Sebastian changes into first gear, pulling out onto the road. He revs the engine and takes off, not going easy for Connor’s benefit but riding as quickly and daringly as he normally does, confident in his own ability to handle such a powerful piece of motorised equipment. Taking the advice given to him, Connor hangs on, feeling the grunt and speed of the machine he’s sitting on and getting boyishly excited by it too, pulse racing with the sound of the wind he can hear rushing under his helmet. Also very much a boy who likes toys, Sebastian shows Connor what the bike can do, disregarding the traffic laws and going much faster than is legal, zipping between cars and overtaking slower vehicles, whizzing past them and dodging around them like they are part of an obstacle course. Knowing the streets he’s riding on, Sebastian is careful to steer clear of danger zones and keep an eye out for any hazards such as dogs or kids running onto the road or patches of oil that the tyres could slip on. A couple of cars start to veer out into his path, the drivers not seeing the bike in their rear-vision mirrors, but Sebastian is prepared for that, deftly swinging out wide to avoid them. One guy swerves out into the second lane without indicating, almost running his car right into the bike and Sebastian flips his visor up to yell out some choice swear words, giving the driver a gloved finger before speeding away in a streak of electric blue. Not letting that asshole ruin his enjoyment, Sebastian is grinning into his helmet while he shows off his talent as a rider, taking delight in the way Connor’s arms get tighter and tighter around his waist with the thrilling pace of the ride, Sebastian finally slowing back to the speed limit before he gets crushed to death with excitement.

Grinning behind his helmet as well, Connor has finally found something that’s even more fun than bus-surfing. Sitting on the back behind Sebastian is awesome but he can’t wait to learn how to ride one of these things himself. Sebastian said he’d teach him and Connor is good at learning new skills. Maybe Seb will even give him a cycle of his own. Guy’s got enough of them to share and anything that can help Connor get from one vamp-nest to another more rapidly can only be a beneficial thing.

Plus it would look super-cool.

Now that the outside world isn’t blurring as it’s going by, the young demon slayer starts gazing out over the city as it’s bathed in the afternoon sun, looking over the endless freeways with their lines of cars, out over houses and pools, hills and shopping malls but having seen it all before Connor ends up laying his head against Sebastian’s back and closing his eyes, hugging him and relishing the closeness he feels with his older riding partner. It doesn’t matter where they are or what they’re doing; being around Sebastian makes Connor feel like this is exactly where he should be.

When they reach Connor’s building, Sebastian parks outside and they disembark, removing their helmets, the bigger male leaving his on the seat of the bike.

“So, how was that, kiddo? Fun?”

“Hell, yeah,” Connor enthuses, unzipping his jacket. “See that dude that almost hit us? If he did I was gonna smash through the windscreen and stuff him headfirst into his own ashtray.”

Sebastian grins at the amusingly violent description. “Told you I was a good rider. I’m used to avoiding assholes like him. Happens all the time.”

“Will you teach me? To ride like that?”

“It will be my pleasure to. We can start tomorrow after our date, if you like.”

“Sweet,” Connor replies eagerly, imagining how wicked he’s gonna look – a hunter on a bike. “You want this back?”

Connor is holding out the helmet but Sebastian shakes his head. “Keep it. As well as the jacket. You’ll need them for when I pick you up tomorrow.”

“Thanks. And thanks for the ride home, too.”

“Anytime, sweetpea.” Sebastian smiles and tucks a stray strand of hair behind Connor’s delicately tiny ear. Like a gentleman, he escorts Connor inside, reaching the ladder that leads up into the kid’s second-level apartment. He doesn’t pay any rent but it’s only because nobody knows he’s here. The whole building is vacant, used only for storing unwanted and unused items, though the electricity and hot water are still connected.

“You know, Connor, I used to ride past this place and look up at the window, wondering if you were around,” Sebastian confesses, gazing at all the museum pieces and stuffed animals. “Whenever there was a light on, I’d think about coming up to see if you were home. But I never did.”

“Don’t do that next time,” Connor tells him, squeezing his arm. “I don’t care how late at night it is. Stop and see me.”

“I will. Promise.”

Connor balances the helmet on one of the ladder-rungs, turning around to bid farewell to his lover. Not shy about demonstrating his affections any longer, he steps forward and wraps his slim arms around Sebastian’s middle, resting his cheek on the taller man’s chest, the top of Connor’s head only reaching to his chin.

“Thank you for last night,” Connor quietly says, not meaning just the sex but for everything else they shared and experienced. “I had a great time with you, Sebastian.”

“Even when we were attacked by a stinking coal-monster and I almost peed my pants?”

Smiling, Connor confirms, “Even then.”

“In spite of my occasional freaking out, I had a great time too,” Sebastian has to admit. “Best night of my life, actually.”

“Same.”

Not wanting to say goodbye yet, Sebastian hugs Connor tight, smelling his hair as if to sustain himself until they see each other again.

“I’ll miss you, boyfriend,” he whispers. “Be careful tonight, okay?”

“Okay.” Connor tips his face up so he can receive Sebastian’s gentle kiss of parting. “See you, Seb.”

Sebastian gives his beautiful beau one last soft smooch and then reluctantly releases him, starting to leave, Connor watching his tall figure walk gracefully away towards the entrance. Connor climbs up the ladder and gets as far as the top rung, placing the helmet on the floor and then pausing for a few moments, impulsively sliding back down to ground level and calling out.

“Sebastian! Wait!”

At the doorway, the tanned male turns around, an inquisitive expression on his face as Connor starts to cross over to him.

“Yeah, babe?”

Connor stops. Doing this quickly, before he loses his sudden spike of courage, he swallows and blurts out, “I love you.”

He waits nervously, not sure what Sebastian’s reaction is going to be or even if he’s going to believe Connor since he’s never said anything like that before or even hinted at it. For a wordless minute, Sebastian simply stares at him, and then the hugest grin spreads over his face, lighting it up until his green eyes are glowing and radiant. He begins walking back to Connor and then breaks into a run, forking his hands under the kid’s arms and picking him up clear off the ground, spinning him around and around in giddy, joyous glee. At the exuberant display of euphoria, Connor laughs, long ponytail flowing out behind him in a red sweep, feeling lighter and happier than he’s ever been in eighteen whole years. When they finally stop twirling, Sebastian doesn’t let him go, gazing up at the younger boy in adoration.

“You’ve made my day, babydoll,” he gushes. “My absolute fucking day.”

Connor smiles down at him, his hands on Sebastian’s strong shoulders, enjoying the jubilant, beaming expression on his boyfriend’s handsome face. He can’t believe he made somebody so happy just by opening his mouth and speaking. Connor is glad he did, though. He’s fallen for Sebastian, utterly and totally. Has from the moment he jumped off the rooftop and saw how glad Sebastian was to see him. He probably loved Sebastian even before that. Maybe even from the moment they first met. It doesn’t matter when it happened; it’s only now that he’s been able to speak it out loud. But Sebastian doesn’t have to say it back. He’s already said it, more than once, and besides, Connor can see the returned affection shining in his eyes, along with sincere thankfulness for being given those three meaningful words.

To Sebastian, Connor’s admission of love is a gift, rare and precious. He knows Connor doesn’t let go of his heart easily and knowing that he’s giving it to Sebastian, just like Sebastian gave it to him, is something the older male will treasure every day of his life. He lets Connor slide down the front of his body, feet not yet touching the floor, just until he can reach the teen’s gorgeous crimson lips, covering them with his own. Sebastian kisses him deeply and sweetly, pouring all his emotion into it, Connor closing his eyes and slipping his arms around Sebastian’s neck, kissing him back with equal sweetness and warmth. This kiss is different to any they have given each other; not a prelude to passion but a pledge of faithfulness, trust, honour and loyalty, as well as the promise of many more action-packed days together and many more nights spent in each other’s loving embrace.

“Thank you, darlin’,” Sebastian sighs when they eventually break apart. “You saying that? It means the whole world to me.”

“You’re welcome,” Connor returns softly, letting himself be lowered to the ground, arms still around Sebastian’s neck.

“Now that we’re an official couple and all, do you think you could tell me your last name?” Sebastian suggests. “I can’t exactly introduce you to my mom as Connor the Demon Hunter.”

“I don’t really have one,” Connor muses. “Dad doesn’t have a surname either. It’s a vampire thing.” He shrugs. “I dunno, if anything I guess it’d have to be Angel.”

“Connor Angel. Sounds like a superhero alias.” Sebastian nods approvingly. “It suits you.”

“I look forward to meeting your mom. She seems nice. But it might wig her out to learn I’m half-demon. Probably shouldn’t tell her that.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. I’ll tell her you’re a college student or something.”

“Nearly was,” Connor reveals, thinking of the amnesia spell he was under once upon a time. “Then I remembered how much I like killing things.”

“I guess I better let you go do that, huh?” Sebastian concedes, kissing Connor on the brow. “Love you heaps, sweetie. Have fun at the cemetery. Dust some undead motherfuckers for me, yeah?”

“You bet.” Connor grins. “Ride safe. And don’t speed.”

Sebastian winks over his shoulder as he walks away. “Never do.”

Smiling, Connor watches him leave the building and then when he hears the sound of Sebastian’s bike roaring off down the road, he scampers up the ladder, gathering his supplies for the night’s hunting expedition.

Hours later, Connor is back, having wasted four vamps at the graveyard and three demons in the sewers. All together, a very satisfactory tally. He lights some candles, showers and then puts Sebastian’s CD on the stereo as he dries and dresses, liking the hard rock sound of the band. He listens to the first couple of songs and then skips to the track Sebastian told him about, the one where he sings the entire thing. Surrounded by his lover’s husky voice, Connor reaches under his mattress and brings out that glossy chick magazine. Flipping through it to his favourite page he finds the picture of Sebastian Christensen, the model, touching it and feeling his heart grow pleasantly warm. After the whole tragic Cordelia episode, rest her soul, Connor never thought he’d be capable of feeling love again. But he is. And even better, the person that he loves also loves him back. He may as well put this magazine away for good and the photograph of Sebastian with it. He doesn’t need it anymore. He’s got the real thing now.

Right at that moment there is a knocking on the door and Connor swiftly shoves the magazine back under his bed. A visitor. Just like empath Emel forewarned him. It is with no great shock that he opens the door to find a tall, dark figure in a long coat standing there. His father.

Angel.

“I knew it’d be you.” Connor eyes him guardedly. “What do you want?”

“I just came to see you, Connor. I haven’t heard from you in a while.” A mildly worried expression sits on Angel’s face. “How are you doing, son? Are you okay? Are you eating enough food?”

“I’m doing just fine, dad,” Connor replies scornfully. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m not in diapers anymore. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself.”

Ignoring Connor’s mockery, Angel clears his throat and says, “Of course you are. Look, I just wanted to thank you again for the other night.”

He’s referring to a bloody battle that he was embroiled in recently. It had been a typical night, at least at the beginning. Angel had been given information about an underground S&M club where human slaves were apparently being kept and sexually assaulted by demons. He had burst into the club with usual dramatic flair to rescue these people when he realised that it had been a trap and there were no humans at all. Only demons, dozens of them, seemingly coming from out of the walls, intent on ripping him to pieces. Someone had set him up and he cursed himself for not being more careful. So, with no other option, he put his game face on and started kicking evil ass. It wasn’t the first demon fight Angel has seen and it definitely won’t be the last but this one involved a particularly large group of hell-scum and what caught him by surprise was that they had bottles of holy water hidden in their cloaks. He was unfortunately splashed in the eyes with the acidic liquid and went temporarily blind, whirling around in a black daze and losing his sword, feeling the blows of unseen clubs and the stinging slashes of knives on his body. Unable to see and beaten to his knees, Angel actually thought he might not be able to stop them this time.

Until Connor showed up. Angel smelled his son before he saw him; that woodsy wild-forest scent that nobody else in the world has. There was a loud crash as the door of the club was broken down and the demons suddenly stopped attacking him, focusing on a new foe. Blinking, Angel squinted at the silhouette in the doorway until his blurry vision cleared and there he was – a skinny kid with shaggy auburn hair and a huge axe in his small hand. He had that glint of withheld violence in his eyes, that slight snarling curl to his lip, and that was when Angel realised with both alarm and relief that his son had gotten his memory back. The boy, in his usual dry way, had asked if he needed some help and Angel was so happy to see his warrior offspring that he just about cried. Without waiting for further instructions, Connor began swinging his enormous silver axe, mowing down wave after wave of demons, severed limbs and heads flying everywhere, concentrating on only one thing: the enemy. That and protecting his father, who soon grabbed his sword and joined back into the battle. Connor’s supernatural strength, equal to or even more than a slayer’s, gave him a huge advantage and he clocked up the most kills out of the two of them.

While Angel was busy slicing away with his own weapon, Connor was hacking into the never-ending army of demons like he was trying to make firewood out of them, black fluid splashing onto his pale face which was set in a grimace of savage determination. The teenager was relentless and unstoppable, stunning Angel with his single-minded ferocity, channelling all his rage at the cruel unfairness of the world into killing as many of these evil things as he could, not even seeming to feel pain or fatigue.

Eventually, the last of the demons were taken down or had run away in defeat. Connor only stopped after he’d gone around to all the bodies on the ground and made sure they were dead, coldly chopping the heads off any survivors. Then the two of them limped back to Wolfram & Hart, weary and battle wounded but satisfied in the knowledge that they had done good. With one arm clutching a deep stomach wound, Angel had looked over to his son - who was covered in blood, with bruises and cuts on his face - and felt such overwhelming love and pride. His boy was a champion. Connor was everything Angel had hoped he would be and more. And he was back in the fight.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” Angel ends gratefully in the present.

“Sure, you could,” Connor drawls. “It just would have taken you longer.”

“Well, thanks anyway,” Angel reiterates. He flicks his gaze up and down Connor’s diminutive form. “You seem to have recovered okay. You look well. Fit and strong and...” He dwindles off in surprise because not only is Connor the picture of perfect health, he almost looks...happy? How can that be? Connor is angst and anger on legs. He’s a walking Nine Inch Nails song. He’s never happy.

Unless...

A slow look of understanding dawns in Angel’s eyes and he allows a small, knowing smile to cross his lips. “So, who is she?”

Appearing genuinely puzzled, Connor asks, “Who?”

“The girl that’s putting that glow in your cheeks.” Angel nudges him good-naturedly. “Looks good on you.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Connor snaps. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Well, it may not be my business but I can’t help noticing those love pheromones floating around you.” Angel breathes in through his nose, vampire senses picking up the subtle fragrance. “It’s like an exotic type of cologne. Very distinctive.”

Startled, Connor glances down at himself, unable to tell that he’s giving off a different smell, especially since he’s just taken a shower and all he can detect is soap and shampoo. Angel smiles reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, son. I won’t tease you about it. I’m just glad you’ve found someone.” Excitedly, he pries, “So, what’s her name? What’s she like? Can I meet her?”

Angel’s annoyingly persistent prodding makes rebellious Connor decide to tell the truth.

“Well, actually, she’s a dude,” the eighteen year-old says boldly. “His name is Sebastian. And he’s gay.”

After a long pause, Angel utters, “Oh.”

Enjoying the shock on his father’s face, Connor smirks. “Guess I am now too.”

All that comes from Angel is another bewildered, “Oh.”

“Are you disappointed in me, dad?” Connor jeers, daring Angel to say something negative. Connor will take any excuse to start a fight with him, even at this early time of the morning.

“No, of course not,” Angel hurriedly assures him, thinking of his own centuries-old dalliances with Spike when they were both young and adventurous. “I just...I thought you liked girls.”

“I did. And look how well that turned out for me,” Connor replies wryly, referring to his failed, disastrous affair with Cordelia, not to mention Tracey, the girl he dated in his other life. He thought that they had been together since junior year but it was just a fabricated memory implanted in his cerebral cortex by an associate of Wolfram and Hart. Tracey was a real person but she was under the same spell that he was. She wasn’t really his girlfriend. Neither was Cordelia. Both of those relationships were false imitations of love, not the genuine thing.

“I’m done with girls,” he declares disgustedly. “They lie. They pretend to like you but they don’t.”

“Son,” Angel hedges with caution, “you know that wasn’t really Cordelia. It was just a thing living in her body. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” Connor snaps, irritated that Angel thinks he’s stupid. “But it...Jasmine...she was still a woman.” He looks down, clenching his jaw. “She made me do things. Bad things. She used me. Messed me up.”

“She messed us all up,” Angel answers grimly, remembering how ethereally beautiful she made herself look, how she covered up her true repulsive form and sweetened her malicious intentions with a kind, loving voice. “She lied to all of us, Connor. But it’s over now. She’s gone.”

Already well aware of that, Connor still feels nauseated thinking about how he put his fist straight through Jasmine’s head, his knuckles coming out the other side of her shattered skull with brain matter all over them. However sickening that was, she deserved it. Her love was an evil, terrible thing that could have brought about the destruction of all mankind.

But Sebastian’s love is wonderful and pure. He doesn’t lie. When he said he loved Connor, it was true and strong. Connor felt it. He still feels it, deep in his chest like a white flame that will never die out.

“Sebastian won’t mess me up,” he concludes quietly, tucking his hair behind one small ear. “He’s different. He’s a good man.”

“Man?” Angel repeats in trepidation, immediately thinking the very worst scenario a father can think. Grabbing his son’s bony shoulders with both hands, he barks, “How old is he, Connor?”

“Why do you care about th-”

Fierce dark brown eyes bore into Connor’s alarmed blue ones, cutting off his defensive answer.

“TELL ME!”

Angel’s harsh growl frightens Connor a little, though he tries hard not to show it.

“He’s twenty six. But I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” Connor argues, wrenching out of his father’s grasp and scowling at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Twenty six,” Angel says surprisedly, calm once again. He thought when Connor said ‘man’ he would be much older and much more perverted. Middle-aged men with teenage boys is not something Angel tolerates in the slightest. But twenty six is still young. Twenty six is acceptable.

“Yeah, he’s older than me. Big deal,” Connor counters. “You were two hundred years older than Buffy.”

“Don’t bring Buffy into this,” Angel threatens, pointing a finger at Connor but his wayward son isn’t listening.

“Sebastian accepts me and what I do without question and the best part is: he doesn’t care that I have you as a father,” Connor flings back.

“So, he knows you’re...unique,” Angel says carefully. “You told him.”

Sounding frustrated, Connor retaliates, “What, am I not allowed to tell anybody who I am now? Am I supposed to be a loner my whole life like you?”

“I didn’t say that,” Angel objects, stung by Connor’s accuracy. “It’s just...you can’t trust everyone.”

“I don’t,” Connor responds flatly. “I don’t even trust you sometimes.” He pauses. “But I trust him.”

Thinking that this Sebastian guy must be pretty extraordinary for Connor to reveal his darkest secrets, Angel queries, “You really like him, huh?”

“Yeah,” Connor says shortly, his eyes glittering dangerously. “I do. Got some kind of issue with that?”

Not wanting to drive the young man away any further than he already has, Angel hold his hands up and hastily replies, “No issue. It’s your life. Date whomever you like.”

Connor crosses his arms stubbornly over his chest. “Good. I will.”

Still in protecting father mode, Angel can’t help adding, “But he better not break your trust or else he’ll have one pissed vampire kicking down his door. You tell me if he ever hurts you.” He looks at Connor with a deadly serious expression. “You come straight to me. Okay?”

Finding Angel’s protectiveness highly exasperating yet somewhat comforting, Connor sighs and answers, “Okay. But you don’t have to worry about that. He wouldn’t do anything bad to me. He’s nice.” With the way he says that last statement, softly and respectfully, Angel can see for himself that Connor cares a great deal about this man who he is obviously sleeping with.

“And there are not many people in this city who are nice to me. Especially since all my high school buddies have forgotten me.” Connor stares down at the floor. “He’s the only friend I have now.”

“Connor, I’m so sorry about the spell,” Angel says in remorse, wishing the whole thing hadn’t happened. “I didn’t want it to turn out this way. I only wanted you to be happy. I was trying to help you.”

“I know you were,” Connor mumbles, a moment of something other than annoyance for his father piercing his toughened amour. “And I am happy, dad.”

“Are you sure?” Angel questions worriedly. “Because I can try to make that spell again and...”

“No,” Connor intervenes strongly. “I don’t want to be living someone else’s life. That’s not me. I’m not some college boy who wears plaid shirts and dreams of being a doctor. I don’t heal. I kill.” He stands up tall and defiant, concrete purpose in his eyes. “I’m a hunter. That’s what I do. That is my reason for being here.”

Angel nods slowly, knowing exactly what a momentous choice this is for Connor. “I had to make this difficult decision once too,” he confides to his son. “A few years ago a Mohra demon’s blood gave me the chance to be human again. I had a heartbeat. I breathed. I could actually bathe in the light of the sun.” He sighs deeply. “I could have chosen to live the rest of my life as a mortal and be with the woman that I loved.”

“You mean Buffy?”

Nodding sadly, Angel continues. “I could have married her, had children with her, grown old with her by my side. Lord, I wanted to. And now it’s too late. Nothing I can do will ever change that. She’s got her own life now and it doesn’t include me.”

At the old pain and regret in his father’s face, Connor knows that he loved Buffy a great deal. Probably even more than he loved Cordelia.

“What happened, then?” Connor queries. “Why didn’t you stay human?”

“For the same reason you’re choosing this path. To fight the good fight.” With committed conviction, the dark-haired vampire pledges, “The world needs champions like us, Connor. We can’t save everyone but we have to keep trying.”

“I know, and I do,” Connor agrees with the same amount of dedication. “Despite all the gore and nightly beatings, I’d rather be out here on the streets doing this than getting drunk and going to frat parties. At least what I do here matters. Maybe not to anyone else, but it does to me.”

Choking up with emotions at how much his boy has grown, Angel replies gruffly, “It matters more than you realise. You’ve made the right choice, son. I’m very proud of you.”

He makes a move as if to embrace Connor but then suddenly pulls back, awkwardly slipping his hands into his coat pockets, uncertainty in his stance, eyes darting away. With a small shock, Connor realises that Angel is afraid. Perhaps not of Connor, but of doing the wrong thing. The wrong thing? That’s something Angel rarely does. He may have thrown his only son out of the hotel and he may have beat him black and blue in the past but Connor knows he had it coming. Like Lorne bluntly said once: he was a little prick. He was selfish and hot-headed, rude and insolent. He didn’t listen to anyone; he went and did what he did to Angel without hearing the other side of the story. While he was sealing up that big metal box, Angel was trying to tell him the truth but Connor didn’t want to hear it. He just pushed that makeshift coffin over the side of the boat with his father in it and didn’t look back. For three months he knew Angel was stuck at the bottom of the sea, slowly going insane with thirst and hallucinations and he told nobody. He lied to Fred and Gunn about his father’s disappearence, acting like he didn’t know a thing when he knew full well where Angel was. Connor was prepared to leave Angel down there forever and if it wasn’t for Wesley dragging him up, he’d still be on the ocean floor watching the fish swim by.

If anyone has ever done the wrong thing here, it’s Connor.

As he stands there in the doorway with his dad nervously fidgeting in front of him, complete understanding and empathy comes over Connor and he sees things clearly for the first time. All these negative feelings he harbours towards Angel have not come from anything Angel has done to him. Rather, they come from Holtz and everything he’d repeatedly told Connor throughout that whole sixteen years in hell. When he came out of Qor’toth Connor was so brainwashed by his foster father that he couldn’t see the good in Angel, only the evil. He could only see the vampire, not the man.

But Holtz was a man and he had done evil things too. He got his apprentice Justine to slit Wesley’s throat and take Connor out of his arms, leaving the English man for dead in the park. Wes was only trying to protect Connor but Holtz stole him away, took him as a helpless baby and disappeared into a nightmarish dimension no boy should ever have to experience. He reared Connor with terrible tales about what his real father was and had done, all the ghastly details. Over and over. He taught Connor how to kill, made him violent, made him full of hatred and anger. And when they came to L.A. Holtz persuaded Justine to stab him twice in the neck to make Connor think that Angel had done it, had fed from him and killed him like the savage beast he was supposed to be. But Angel hadn’t done it. Holtz did it. He did all this. He made Connor hate his own father. That’s what he planned all along. Connor used to believe that God gave him to Daniel Holtz but he knows now that God had nothing to do with it. It’s all Daniel’s doing. He had his family taken from him by Angelus decades ago and so decided to make Angel suffer the same fate, even though the vampire had become a protector of innocents, not a killer. Holtz got so caught up in his quest for retribution he couldn’t even tell the difference between good and evil anymore.

Connor had always thought that his guardian was perfect and honest and would never lie to him. But he had. In effect, Holtz was no better than the murderous creature he sought revenge on, the creature that no longer existed. All he wanted was to take revenge on Angel. And Connor was just a pawn in that twisted game of justice. He is still angry with Holtz for that but at the same time Connor can’t help loving him. Since he had no other father figure but Holtz when he was a child, Connor will always love him in a way but he no longer holds the old man up on a pedestal like he once used to. Holtz was human. He made mistakes. And so has Connor.

Like Holtz, Connor’s biggest mistake was believing that Angel and Angelus were the same being. Having met Angelus for himself recently, he now knows this is not the case. Angelus is a brutal, soulless bastard who thinks of nobody but himself and his own sick enjoyment. Angelus is a blood-thirsty psychopath who gets off on torturing others and making them beg. He’s the most coldly calculating, vicious creature Connor has ever met. Now, having survived many years in a hell dimension, Connor is not normally afraid of any demon but Angelus is one frightening son of a bitch, even to him. Angelus would dismember Connor in ten different gruesome ways without batting an eyelid. And that’s if Connor was lucky.

But the person standing before him tonight is Angel. He may not be human but Angel has a soul, perhaps even more of a soul than some people do. He would never truly hurt Connor. Sure, he has his flaws – like the whole gross drinking pigs’ blood thing and the whole spying on Connor from atop a building like a hovering parent thing - but overall he is an honourable and caring individual who only wants to be a good father to his son. Because he’s been so misguided and obstinate, Connor hasn’t let him be that father. Every time Angel tried to get close to him, Connor pushed him away. He’s never fully let Angel in. The heartbreaking story Sebastian told him this morning over breakfast has changed Connor’s attitude and he doesn’t want to end up in the same sad situation that his boyfriend did. He doesn’t want to end up on his deathbed wishing that he could alter parts of his life. He doesn’t want to die knowing that he severed the only family ties he had on this earth. He doesn’t want to die depriving himself of his father’s love, which is what he really needs, deep down. He needs Angel’s love and guidance to help him deal with this world. No matter how self-reliant and independent Connor thinks he is, he knows that he needs his dad and has so much more to learn from him. So, to prevent the irreversible father-son breakdown from happening, Connor has to humble himself and take the first step. But where to begin?

Connor’s long silence makes Angel feel as though he’s overstayed his welcome and he mumbles, “Well, I came to make sure you were all right and you are...so...Okay. Leaving now.” As he goes to turn aside, Connor reaches out and grabs his father’s arm.

“Don’t go.”

Stopping, Angel looks up at him, a question in his dark brown eyes.

“I never...um...” Connor halts, trying to word this right. He lowers his lashes and hesitantly begins. “I never told you that I was...sorry. For what I did. To you.”

“Connor, you don’t have to-”

“Yes, I do,” Connor cuts in, bravely meeting his father’s gaze in spite of the awful shame he’s carrying inside himself. “That night on the boat you said one day I would realise the truth and that I would hate myself for it.”

Connor swallows. “Well, you were right.”

Angel’s paternal instincts make him want to shush his son and hold him close, to tell him that it’s okay, that he understands, that he doesn’t need to say anymore. But he knows that Connor wants to say it. He needs to say it. So Angel stays silent and lets him.

“Ever since I found out what really happened to Holtz I have been wanting to apologise to you, dad, but I couldn’t think of anything to tell you that would make up for what I did.” He bites his lip, sorrow and regret in his bright blue eyes. “I still can’t. All I can do is say that I’m sorry. I know that’s not enough but...but I mean it.”

In a pained whisper, Angel tells him, “It’s enough.”

“And I’m sorry I blamed you for not being there,” Connor carries on, desperate to get all this shit out of his system. “I know it’s not your fault. Holtz took me away. He kidnapped me. If I could go back and change things...I’d rather have grown up here, with you. You’re my real father, Angel. Not him. I know that now. I never -”

“I said it’s enough, Connor.” Angel’s rough voice slices into his child’s guilt-stricken babble. “I forgave you months ago. Okay? Now shut up and come here.”

He yanks Connor in and hugs him tightly. “It’s all right, son,” he whispers. “Everything is all right now. Forget the past. We can start over again.”

Immensely relieved to hear this, Connor relaxes against Angel, allowing himself to take comfort in being hugged by those big, safe arms, knowing how fortunate he is to have such a tolerant father. And that he actually has a father at all. Holtz may be gone and so is Darla but at least Angel is still here. At least Angel hasn’t abandoned him. To know that someone still cares about him despite the massive mistakes he’s made makes Connor a grateful boy indeed and he doesn’t mind having the breath squeezed out of him by an emotional vampire.

For about ten seconds. Then he shoves at Angel’s broad chest and says exasperatedly, “Jeez, dad. You’re not gonna cry on me, are you?”

Letting Connor go, Angel sniffs and mutters all macho-like, “I’m not crying. I don’t cry. I’m not a crier.”

“Whatever,” Connor returns, rolling his eyes. Bad ass nightstalker. Right. If only Angel’s enemies could see him now. Big baby.

“Listen, I gotta get going,” Angel says apologetically. “Sun will be up soon.” Just before he turns away, he adds, “It’s good to see you looking happy, Connor. I love you.”

Connor watches his father lope away, black coat flapping behind him like Batman’s cape. On impulse, he calls out, “I’ll let you meet him one day.”

Angel stops, twisting his head around, eyebrows lifted. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Connor replies generously. “As long as you don’t scare him off with your angry dad routine.”

Smiling, Angel vows, “You got it. Whenever you’re ready, son. You know where to find me.”

As Angel leaves, Connor’s mood lightens, feeling as though he and his father have stepped up a level in the family trust thing. Sometimes, when he’s not in evil alter-ego form, Angel can be a really decent guy. Hopefully he will like Sebastian when Connor introduces them. Even if he doesn’t, Angel can go stake himself because Connor is still going to date the dude, parental approval or not.

Tomorrow night, before his dinner with Sebastian, he’s going to head downtown to spill some demon guts and lop some spiny heads off, getting his kill quota over for the evening. He has to exterminate at least two vamps and/or demons to feel like he’s done his job properly.

Just because a boy is in love doesn’t mean he’s going to go all soft and romantic.

Hell, no.

He is Connor, son of Angel.

And killing is in his blood.


END