Rating: NC-17. Sex and some cussing. You know, I could show Angelus torturing someone to death in explicit detail, and it would just be R.
Characters: Connor/Cordelia
Spoilers: Apocalypse Nowish
Summary: A Songfic look at the encounter between Connor and Cordelia
Disclaimer: I donít own either of these characters, or the new little character thatís coming along. Thatís okay, theyíre getting fun to sit back and watch again. The song "Tonight Is What It Means To Be Young" is by Jim Steinman, and itís from the soundtrack of the movie "Streets of Fire". Get the soundtrack, but avoid seeing the movie at all costs.

Note 1: A lot of people have identified Cordeliaís sex scene with Connor as a pity fuck, and cite her apparent lack of passion as evidence. That may be, but as that old song says, it ainít necessarily so. Notice that I change nothing that appeared on our screens.

Note 2: Congratulations to Charisma Carpenter and her husband. The plot contortions your forthcoming blessing will cause are already getting amusing. Come on, didnít anybody notice how much time they spent covering up Charismaís belly in this episode? "Sheís not pregnant! Yet! Really!"

First Night, Last Night
By Matt
-----

I look out the window at the end of the world. Turns out all the Bible thumpers were right. The world isnít ending billions of years from now when a dying sun bloats until it swallows the Earth and then cools to a cinder. No, itís ending now with blood and fire and plagues.

I saw it coming, and I tried to stop it. Oh, God, I tried, but all I got was this handprint thatís turning black on my throat. Oh. Right. And I got Connor hurt worse than heís ever been, even in Quortoth. Heís much better already, though. He doesnít heal quite as fast as Daddy doesóafter all, he needs all of his body parts. But heís much faster than an ordinary person. Probably something along the lines of Little MissóBuffy. Her name is Buffy. The world is ending and this is no time to be catty. After all, when she tried to save the world, she succeeded.

Could I have tried harder? Would it have accomplished anything? I donít know. I do know that Iíve never wished so hard for the powers I had last year back. But as I look out the window and see that column of fire shoot into the sky, I know that itís too late.

The fire starts to fall from the sky, and I come to a decision


I've got a dream 'bout an angel on the beach
And the perfect waves are starting to come
His hair is flying out in ribbons of gold
And his touch has got the power to stun

I love Angel. Iím not sure how I love him. Are we both so lonely that weíre confusing one kind of love for another? I know Iím not the one who loves him best. There was someone else who looked straight into the demonís eyes and still loved him.


I've got a dream 'bout an angel in the forest
Enchanted by the edge of a lake
His body's flowing in the jewels of light
And the earth below is starting to shake

But Angel isnít here. Connor is.


But I don't see any angels in the city
I don't hear any holy choir sing

 

And I love Connor. I donít love him like Buffy loves Angel. I donít love him like Angel loves him. I donít love him like Willow and Xander love each other. Iím not sure if thereís a word for how I love him. It may be sick and itís probably wrong, but there it is. Iím still honest enough to admit that.


And if I can't get an angel
I can still get a boy
And a boy'd be the next best thing
The next best thing to an angel
A boy'd be the next best thing

I try to explain, and I do a terrible job of it. Like I said, there really arenít words. The way I explain it, it sounds like a pity fuck. If he was anything but an eighteen-year-old boy, heíd be put off. If there was going to be a Morning After, heíd probably be hurt.

But heís invincibly horny the way only a teenage boy can be, and there isnít going to be a morning. Thatís the whole point.

Strange how I made such a mess of something so simple: I love you, but Iím very confused about it, and a lot of my other feelings right now. Maybe this would have happened sooner or later, once Iíd figured out exactly how I feel about you, and where I stand with your father. After all, youíre brave and youíre decent-looking and youíre so sweet, trying to take care of and protect me and make me feel better. And you do say all the right things, but unlike all the boys in high school who were trying to chat their way into my pants, I suspect that you mean them. But it would have been a while.

We donít have a while, and I want you to have one good thing in your lousy life before the lights go out.


I've got a dream 'bout a boy in a castle
And he's dancing like a cat on the stairs
He's got the fire of a prince in his eyes
And the thunder of a drum in his ears


I've got a dream 'bout a boy on a star
Lookin' down upon the rim of the world
He's there all alone and dreamin' of someone like me
I'm not an angel but at least I'm a girl

Heís trembling as I pull my shirt off. Trembling. Heís spent his whole life fighting demons, most of it in "the darkest of the Dark Worlds". He earned himself the name "the Destroyer" there. And his trembling grows more violent as I unhook my bra and free my breasts.

Trembling. Fear and desire. More than horniness, desire. Horniness is blind. Desireóhe wants me, he wants to be with me, he wants to love me. Itís an honor, one Iíve rarely received. How many people really do?

Iím honored, but it also makes me want to cry. It would be so much easier if he was just horny and this was just a pity fuck. But he desires me, and I donít know if I deserve that. Even if I do, it shouldnít be like this. It shouldnít die after one night.

But it is. And it will. The world is dying and thereís just the two of us, the Adam and Eve of the End.


I've got a dream when the darkness is over
We'll be lyin' in the rays of the sun
But it's only a dream and tonight is for real
You'll never know what it means
But you'll know how it feels

 

Trembling. Heís staring at my breasts, which, you knowóbig surprise. Every few seconds he glances up at my face, this amazed, unbelieving look on his face, like heís asking "Youíre doing this for me?"

Heís too excited. We have sex now, and heíll come in thirty seconds at best. Iíll be frustrated, heíll be embarrassed, his First Time will be a no-show. Canít let that happen.

"Iím going to do something for you," I say softly. "Then we can take our time and do this right."

His trembling eases and he looks a bit confused as I kneel in front of him. Bet Holtz never told him about anything like this. His trembling stops entirely and he goes rigid as I slide his pants down. He almost stops breathing.

"Relax, honey," I say, gently stroking my fingertips along his shaft. "This is for you. All for you."

Heís big. Not the biggest Iíve ever seen, but still worthy of the word. Uncircumcised. Thatís a bit newóI donít think Iíve really seen an uncut one in the flesh before. Just pictures. Looks a little weird. Not really a surprise, though. Donít suppose penile cosmetic surgery was much of a priority in Quortoth.

His cock is high and hard and straining, twitching like a living thing. Itís almost purple and fluid is already weeping from the tip. I stroke it a few timesógently, I learned from my first backseat handjob that boys need lubrication, tooóthen I lean forward and lick the fluid away.

I taste sweat in addition to pre-cum. Thatís okay, mostly. I know heís clean. I guess he picked up the habit of bathing from Fred and Gunn, though I donít know where he goes now. Maybe he sneaks into the Hyperion, like I do. This is the sweat he worked up while saving my life.

Hello, salty goodness, I think, and I canít stop two hot tears from welling up and running over. I hope he wonít notice them. Best way to prevent thatÖ

I take him into my mouth.

I slide him in and out, sometimes taking as much as I can (not that much, reallyóstrong gag reflex), sometimes just holding his tip in my mouth and sucking while I stroke his shaft.

He rests a hand on my head, and for a moment Iím scared. I remember this one guy, sophomore yearóhe grabbed and pressed and just kept pressing, and then he wondered why I was upset. I nearly puked and I have a bruise in the back of my throat. Why do you think?

And Connor is so strong.

Instead, he starts to stroke my hair.

Oh.

I donít generally like giving blowjobs. My mouth gets tired and starts to hurt before too long. But I donít think itíll take too long.

It doesnít. After no more than a minute or two, Connor starts panting and trembling. I cup his balls in my hand and I feel them tighten up to his body, and I brace myself. An instant later, he floods into my mouth. I canít think of another word. Thick, hot, salty spurts fill my mouth and I canít take it all. It dribbles down my chin and onto my breasts. Good thing I took my shirt off.

That gag reflex I mentioned almost kicks in, but I regain control and swallow.

"Are you okay?" Connor asks.

I nod, wiping my chin as I rise to my feet. While Iím at it, I surreptitiously wipe my eyes. "Thatís a gift," I tell him. "Whenever a woman does that for you, you should be very grateful."

He stares at me blankly for a moment, maybe startled by my matter-of-factness (what? I should get all worked up over a BJ when thereís fire falling from the sky outside?) then says "Thank you."

I realize even as he says it what Iím doing. Iím educating him, preparing him for future women, future lovers. But there wonít be any, because thereís no future. Just me.

I angrily blink back the tears. Itís the end of the world and weíre loving against the darkness. Thereís no time for tears.

It's gonna be over (over)
Before you know it's begun
(Before you know it's begun)

It's all we really got tonight
Stop your cryin' hold on (tonight)
Before you know it it's gone (tonight)
Tonight is what it means to be young
Tonight is what it means to be young

"Now youíre ready," I say. Then I unbuckle my belt and let my pants fall into a pile at my feet. I slide my panties down to the floor after them and step out. When I look back at Connor, his eyes are eating up his face.

I hold out my hand to him. When he takes itóheís starting to tremble againóI guide him over to the bed.


Let the revels begin
Let the fire be started
We're dancing for the restless and the broken-hearted
Let the revels begin
Let the fire be started
We're dancing for the desperate and the broken-hearted

"Youíve never seen a naked woman before, have you?" I ask as we sit down on the bed.

He shakes his head, his eyes still wide.

Itís hard to imagine. An eighteen-year-old boy whoís never flipped through his fatherís Playboys, raided his big brotherís porno tape collection, gone skinny-dipping, or felt some girlís budding, pubescent boobs as they make out under the bleachers. Hard to imagine, but pretty much what I expected.

"Well, here I am," I say. Then I lay back, letting my legs fall open and pillowing my head on my hands, openingóexposingómyself to him completely. "Explore."

Then Connor does something that surprises me very much: he does exactly what I said. I thought that, like most teenage boys, heíd want to get straight to the main event. Maybe heís not entirely clear on what the main event is yet. Maybe itís just plain curiosity. Maybe itís some instinct he inherited from Angelóafter all, dear old dad had Darla, Drusilla, and the Three Weirdass Sisters pining for him decades after the fact.

Itís not that he isnít horny. It just takes a glance to let me know that his cock is rising back up into the ready position. But still, heís exploring.

Heís exploring with all five senses.

Heís touching me all over. He runs his fingertips over my eyebrows, my cheekbones, down my nose, through my hair. Up my legs, inside and out, but when he reaches my crotch he detours across my hips and up my flanks. Then he cups my breasts.

"Soft," he says.

"Yes." What else is there to say?

He gently kneads them for a moment, testing their texture, I guess. Then his fingertips start stroking, feeling the delicate skin, tracing my veins until he comes to my nipple. He traces his fingertips around it, feeling the difference in the skin. Finally, he takes the nipple itself and rolls it between his fingertips. "Hard," he says.

"Yes," I say raggedly. Iím starting to have trouble controlling my breathing. "Hard." I reach down and stroke his cock. "Just like this."

He moans, but returns to his explorations.

He bends his head and listens to my heart. I stroke his head and he purrs, and I think of times when Iíve heard Angel making that same contented sound, usually when he was drowsing with Connor in his arms. What kind of freaked-out, fucked-up version of love is this? Not that it matters now.

Connor starts to taste me. Yes, he sucks and licks at my nipples, but he keeps alternating that with licks at my belly, my thighs, my face, as if heís trying to taste-test every part of me.

And he kisses me. Heís clumsy, his tongue thrusting and poking around my mouth, but heís not badóand he must taste his own cum, but he doesnít seem to care.

Huh. A guy who doesnít mind kissing after a blowjob. Oh, Connor, you had such potential.

Then, finally, shyly, almost reverently, he lays his hand on my pussy. By now, I canít control my breathing at all, my abdomen is heavy and congested with desire, and Iím dripping wet. At first, he just presses down with his palm, feeling the texture of my pubic hair, and Iím ready to scream Get on with it when he slips a finger in.

I gasp, and he immediately withdraws the finger. "Are you alright?" He asks.

"That felt good," I say. "Feel thatÖwetness?"

"Is it supposed to be like that?"

"Oh, yes. Donít stop," I say. "Explore."

I think he understands. He lays down between my legs and peels my lips open. He just lies there for a moment after that, staring.

"Pretty?" I ask at last. The question was mostly rhetorical. But the answerÖthe boy has a genuine gift with words.

"Yes," he answers, still staring, entranced. "Like a rose. All pink and wet with dew, like I see in the park at sunrise."

He runs his fingers around my lips, over each fold of my labia. He finds my clit and I gasp. "There," I say, taking his hand and holding it there. "Thatís good. Right there."

"You like that?" He asks, a bit of the family arrogance seeping into his voice.

"Watch it," I warn him.

He smiles and says nothing. Instead, he raises his fingersóshiny and slick with essence of meóto his mouth.

Iíve heard that itís a primal thing for some guys. They meet a pussy, they have to start eating it. Iíve never met a guy like that. Instead, Iíve met a few whoíd rather lick used ashtrays, while all the rest just want to get past it to the Main Course.

Now Iíve finally met one.

Connor gets one taste of me and his face lights up. Then it clouds doubtfully and he looks upópast my pussy, past my boobs, to my face. His ability to focus is impressive.

"Do men give women that gift as well?" He asks.

It takes a moment for me to figure out what heís talking about. Then I remember the "gift" I gave him. His native talent made me forget for a moment just how totally inexperienced he is. "The ones who are good at this do," I answer.

That was all he needed to hear. He buries his face in my crotch, sucking and licking. Heís new and heís clumsy but that doesnít matteróheís eager, and heís hungry, and he wants nothing more than to keep feeding on me.

My hands clench in the sheets and I arch my back, pressing hard into his mouth.

I feel it. I feel it building inside me, in my belly, in my womb, burning in the walls of my pussy. Iím going to come, Iím going to come in his mouth and Iím going to come screaming and thereís only one thing I can scream that wonít frighten him, make him think heís hurt me.

Then he sucks up my clit.

Pull the trigger. I explode.

"Connor! Oh, God, yes! Yes, yes, YES!"


Let the revels begin (Tonight is what it means to be young)
Let the fire be started (Before you know it it's gone)
We're dancing for the restless and the broken-hearted
Let the revels begin
Let the fire be started
We're dancing for the desperate and the broken-hearted

I lay there for a moment, catching my breath. I reach down between my legs and stroke his hair.

"Are you okay?" We both ask simultaneously. We both laugh.

"Now that I can breathe again, Iím fine," Connor assures me.

"Iím wonnnderful," I purr. Then I reach down, take his head between my hands, and pull him up to me. "Come here," I say. Then heís up to where I can look him in the eye, and heís holding himself up off me with his arms, not that his weight would be at all uncomfortable. "Itís time," I say.

He must have expected this, but his eyes go wide again. He nods eagerly anyway.

I reach down between us, take hold of his cock, spread my pussy with my fingers, and fit tip to lips.

"Now," I whisper. "SlowÖand gentle. Remember how strong you are." True to my directions, he slides into me slow, slower than I meant or expected, achingly slow. I feel him slowly filling me up, stretching me out, until heís all the way in. He holds there, trembling, waiting for me to say something more, or for his need to thrust to overcome him.

Perhaps I should be on top. After all, Iím the teacher here, no matter how gifted my student is. But what the hell. Let the Young Wolf ride the Alpha Bitch if this is going to be his one time out. BesidesóI look out the window and I see that the sky is on fire and the Earth is catching, and I want to hold him in my arms after itís over.


Say a prayer in the darkness for the magic to come
No matter what it seems
Tonight is what it means to be young
Before you know it it's gone
Tonight is what it means to be young
Before you know it it's gone

"Itís okay," I say, stroking his back. "Go ahead. Take it. Iím yours. Iím all yours." I donít even really know what Iím babbling. Iím just trying to encourage him. It seems to be working. He starts to thrust, and I swivel my hips up to meet him.

I've got a dream when the darkness is over
We'll be lyin' in the rays of the sun
But it's only a dream and tonight is for real
You'll never know what it means
But you'll know how it feels
It's gonna be over (over)
Before you know it's begun

He starts slow, pulling almost all the way out, then sliding in until heís pressed tight. Then he runs out of patience for that, I guess, and he starts thrusting in earnest.

He experiments, trying out everything he can think ofóslow, fast, deep, shallow, side to sideóGod damn the kid is a natural.

Any other time, Iíd be loving this. Not now. Now I want him deep, I want to press him close, hold him deep inside me, make him a part of me.

I wrap my legs around him and hug him tight and start thrusting hard and begging "Harder, please harder, you wonít hurt me." He starts going a little harder, just enough to drive me crazy. I start using my legs to pull him down into me, and I jam myself up onto him.

"Pound me, goddamn it, pound me." I snarl, pulling him in harder.

Heís startled, but he obeys.

Iím scared and confused and I want to make him a part of me, is that so wrong? Isnít that what this all about? To cleave to each other and become one flesh? What does it take to make the scared and alone stop?

I realize that Iím crying.


It's all we really got tonight
Stop your cryin' hold on (tonight)
Before you know it it's gone (tonight)
Tonight is what it means to be young
Tonight is what it means to be young

Heís pounding into me now, just like I told him to, and it feels good, it feels amazing. It doesnít hurt, not now, but if there was going to be a tomorrow, I would be damn sore. But there isnít, so I thrust up to meet his thrusts, driving him deep into me.

Heís starting to wheeze and moan.

"CanítÖhold itÖ"

"Thatís okay, baby," I tell him. "Go ahead. Come for me. Let me have it."

He groans so loud that itís almost a shout and I feel him twitching inside me, then spurts of hot fluid fill me up.

Itís a first for both of us. Iíve never had a man come inside me before. Iíve always used condoms, but heyóno time for babies or any other sexually transmitted diseases to develop, is there?

His groaning and thrusting, the feeling inside my pussy, the thought that Iím the one who did that for himósomehow, itís all unbearably erotic. And Iím close, so close, heís still thrusting, milking himself out press up hard oneÖlastÖtimeÖ

Uhhhhh.

Release. More of a great relaxation than the huge explosion before. My body shivers out the last of the tension and Iím left lying boneless on the bed, watching Connor thrust a few last times. Then he collapses on top of me with a groan of satiation that turns into a groan of pain.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"I will be," he winces. "I think I did something to my ribs."

"Oh, noóIím sorry, honey. I shouldnít have asked you to go harder. Maybe I should haveó"

He kisses me again, this time just on the lips. "I said Iíd be okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

How much does it really matter anymore? I hold him to me, and I lay my cheek against his, and I stroke his hair. "You did very well," I murmur to him.

"Thank you," he says, and I think he means for more than the compliment. "Thank you."

We lie there quietly in the flame-lit darkness for a little longer, lost in the soft warm.

 

The things they say
And then the things they do
Nothin's gonna stop us if our aim is true

 

Damn. If there was going to be a future, weíd have to change these sheets. Judging by the sheer volume of goo I got from this kid, I donít think heís ever pulled his poker, either.

Wait a second. Was I just flippant?

Somethingís changed. Something inside me. I donít know what it is, but itís real. I clutch Connor to me tight as I realize it. I relax my grip a second later, but if I hurt him, he doesnít show any sign.

I donít know what it is, but somethingís changed. Something is beginning. The Seer in me knows it. And there canít be a beginning at the End, can there?


The things they say
And then the things they do
Nothing's gonna stop us if our aim is true

Maybe we arenít as doomed as I thought.


The things they say
And then the things they do
Nothin's gonna stop us if our aim is true
Tonight is what it means to be young



end

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