thatotherperv: (darla-angel (by lafemmedarla))
[personal profile] thatotherperv
Title: Wayward Boys
Author: Mel ([ profile] thatotherperv
Pairing: Angelus/Liam/Angel
Rating: NC-17 for sure…
Summary: human AU. Angelus is determined to get both of his brothers back into his bed, where they belong.
Warnings: uh…incest, obviously. Can’t stress that enough. Some of the flashbacks deal with *early experimentation*. At some point, there will be bondage. And uh, angst. If I have to put additional warnings up later, I will by the chapter.
Disclaimer: these characters are sooo not mine. if they were, they would have been doing naughty things all along.

Previous parts here

Chapter 10.5

It was getting to be a familiar scenario—Angel exhausted, tired and cranky, being ambushed by one of his brothers just inside the front door.

But this time the brother was dressed, and he had a distinctly concerned look on his face.

And it was Liam. Liam was never concerned about anything for longer than it took to down a shot of whiskey.

“Promise you’ll be nice.”

Angel blinked at him. When was he ever not nice to Liam? “’Course, Lee. What’s wrong?”

“It’s Gus.”

He frowned. “What did he do to you?” Angel rarely had cause for concern between those two anymore. Liam had made it abundantly clear that he was happy with the way things were. Angel still had his doubts about how that was possible, but….

“Not…something he did to me. Something done to him.”

That made even less sense, and Angel was feeling a little short-tempered with the cryptic game they were playing. “Liam, he can take care of himself. Anyone that’s crossed him will know about it shortly, if they don’t already.”

“It’s not—” Liam made a frustrated noise, took Angel’s hand, and yanked him down the hall, to the cracked door of the tv room.

It took Angel’s eyes a moment to adjust, and his mind a moment longer than that. Angelus was sitting in one of the big leather armchairs alone, in the dark. Angel couldn’t make out the expression on his face in the yellow light filtering in from the hall, but he did catch the glint of a bottle dangling from his fingers as he slung it up for a swig. When the bottle was lowered again, Angelus rested it on his knee and sat, staring at nothing.

Angelus was brooding.

“What the hell happened?” he murmured to Liam. He wondered if Gus knew they were there, if he was just ignoring their whispers in the hall.


Angel felt the usual pang of jealousy and frustration that always came packaged in with that manipulative bitch. “Back with the old bat?”

Liam nodded.

It was bound to happen again one of these days. Darla and Angelus were far from what you’d call committed, but even so, jealousy didn’t have much of a role in their rocky, on-again/off-again relationship. There was only one guy that Angelus really hated seeing her with.

That guy happened to be her husband. Her very powerful husband, whose fortune made their own inheritance look like pittance.

Darla might enjoy the adventure that life with Angelus offered…hell, maybe she did even love him, in the same strange way he loved her. But not enough that she wouldn’t run every time that ugly fucker called her home.

Apparently deciding that Angel had taken long enough, Liam pushed past him into the room and turned on a lamp.

Angelus flinched from the light, but didn’t look at either of them. “Go ‘way.”


Angel hovered in the doorway as Liam perched on the edge of the coffee table, legs tangling intimately with Angelus’. On the next swig of whiskey, Liam plucked the bottle out of his hand, and to Angel’s surprise, Angelus let him.

Gave it up as if it weren’t worth the trouble, and wiped at his mouth before propping his head sullenly on one hand.

He refused eye contact. Neither of the boys moved, and although Angel felt distinctly like an outsider to the moment, he shifted inside the door far enough to take a seat at the far end of the room.

“Doesn’t know how to treat a woman like her,” Angelus finally mumbled, voice thick. “She says we’re done for good this time, but….”

He trailed off as if the solution escaped him.

Liam looked down at the bottle in his hand, and Angel bit back on the urge to share his opinion on the subject of what Darla had coming to her. Be nice, Liam had said. Anyway, he was lacking all desire to pick an argument with Angelus at the moment. For once.

Angel felt his heart squeeze when Angelus looked up at Liam and said “She doesn’t love him.” As though he were trying to convince himself of the fact.

He watched helplessly as Liam soothed Angelus’ ego and comforted him. Angel had always been at a loss at moments like these, and this was even more disorienting. Angelus was the one who made things better, not the one who was broken.

When had Liam become the strong one?

He felt himself grasping at straws, wanting to fix it. Wanting for them all to be close again, the way they were as kids….

“Let’s go to the restaurant!” he suddenly blurted.

They both turned and looked at him blankly. He didn’t miss the look they slid one another out of the corners of their eyes.

“We haven’t been to the restaurant in years.”

Angel held Angelus’ skeptical look. “Maybe it’s what we all need.”


It was their parents’ place. The first, before franchising made O’Shanassey a household name…before the similar chain of pubs, and coffee houses, and hotels, and all of the other crap they’d come to loathe.

They grew up playing under the tables of this restaurant, looking up skirts and keeping secrets and trying to avoid getting caught by their father’s right-hand man, who had more of a hand in running the place (and in raising the three of them) than their own father from the time of their earliest memory.


Clear blue eyes shot up at the sound of Liam’s voice. “Boys! What in the devil are you three doin’ here? Haven’t seen any of you in an age.”

“Angelus got dumped.”

Liam jostled Angel for the blunt statement, but Doyle turned to Angelus with amused but sympathetic eyes. “Well, that’s a rare day. Stings like hell to be a mere mortal, doesn’it?” At odds with the teasing barb, his hand fell on Angelus’ shoulder, squeezing comfort as though he were still a teenage boy, and not a man that towered over him. “The usual, then?”

The three of them exchanged a look, thinking of the shakes that had been the staple of heartbreak all their young lives. Angel spoke for all of them when he said, “I think we’d prefer beer.”


Angel loved his brothers.

“Gus. Lee.” They both turned from their laughing banter to look at him. “I love you guys.”

“Christ.” Angelus rolled his eyes and looked away, but there was a smile lurking under the scowl. He seemed happier than he had before. That was good.

Lurk. That was a funny word. Lurk lurk, lurker lurking, lurkey bastard. He laughed.

Liam laughed at him. “We love you, too, Ang.”

“We should have cut him off after the first beer. He’s so cheap. Right, Angel? You’re a two-beer queer.”

“You know what, you’re right. Sometimes. But sometimes I like women.”

Liam laughed so hard some of the other patrons turned and stared towards the corner booth. Angelus snorted out a laugh and muttered ‘idiot.’

Lee said something to Gus that Angel couldn’t follow, so he just watched fixedly as Lee drew out a cigarette and lit it casually, gesturing as he spoke. Looked like Angelus. And Angelus looked like Liam, he thought as the room spun. Red-rimmed eyes and laughing mouth, just like little Lee.

He wasn’t sure where there left him, except he was pretty sure he wasn’t meant to be the drunk one. Images from his dream swam before him but he couldn’t quite grasp on. It was something about sameness. Or difference…ness.

His head felt very heavy. He leaned against his hand. Someone said his name, and then there was laughter, but he was thinking really hard.

‘Bout Angelus, and walls, and whiskey bottles. About Liam, and handcuffs, and plumbers. About himself, and cold showers, and orgasms.

“We need to fuck more,” he suddenly declared. He laughed at the way Angelus’ eyes rounded and Liam choked on his beer. Since when had they become such prudes. “A lot more. All three of us, together.”

“Christ,” Angelus swore, looking furtively around the restaurant. “We’d better get him out of here before he takes out an ad.”

He laughed as they hauled him to his feet between them, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. “You’re just jealous because you don’t know the secret.”

“Sure I do,” Gus muttered. “You’re an idiot.”


Angel woke up pressed between two warm bodies with a dead squirrel in his mouth.

Ugghhnn. Ptuh.

It had been so long since his last hangover that it took a moment to place himself. Then he remembered—Angelus’ crisis, easily plied with Guinness and old jokes…Doyle…a nearly mortifying public announcement…some kind of life-altering revelation that was probably all about the moon being made of mayonnaise or something.

He dimly recalled a vehement argument on a street corner about quitting his job.

They were all still dressed, sprawled together closely in Angel’s bed, though he recalled some very frisky begging on his part as they tried to dump him to sleep it off. They hadn’t been sober, but not drunk enough to match him, obviously.

There was something he was supposed to do, or fix or…something about Liam and Angelus. Something was wrong…or…unfinished or….

Christ, his head hurt.

And his bladder felt like a tennis ball. A very full, urgent tennis ball.

He carefully extracted himself from the tangle of limbs and swayed towards the bathroom, where he relieved himself and then decided that a shower and a toothbrush were the best idea he’d ever had.

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August 2014


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