
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/3452288.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Angel:_the_Series, Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Lindsey_McDonald/Spike, Angelus_(BtVS)/Dean_Winchester, Angelus/Lindsey
      McDonald
  Additional Tags:
      Abuse, Dubious_Consent, Underage_Sex, Religious_Content, Dark
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-02-28 Words: 1775
****** Baptism of fire ******
by ash_carpenter
Summary
     Lindsey's parents send him to bible camp. Between his disturbed new
     friend Dean, a beautiful kid called Spike who makes him want to sin
     more, and an immoral camp counsellor, Angelus, the whole experience
     is a little different than he expected. And maybe he ends up learning
     more about the world than he can handle.
Notes
     Written as a birthday gift for one of my very bestest buds, the
     fabulous Hello_Spikey.

Baptism_of_fire
 
Lindsey gets sent to a bible camp the summer he’s fifteen. The way his parents
look at him when they cheerily announce it like it’s some kind of adventure is
his first clue that they know.
Maybe they heard about him kissing Jimmy Taylor down by the stream in the woods
behind old man Rafferty’s place. He hadn’t thought anyone had seen them, but
it’s possible. And news travels almost as fast as fear and accusation in a
small town like theirs.
College is only three years away, but until then he doesn’t want to be on
permanent curfew or constantly forced to pray for his everlasting soul. So he
smiles and says “swell”.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lindsey thinks a lot of parents have seriously misjudged the influence that
bible camp is going to have on their children.
The first time he thinks this is when there’s a party in the cabin next to
theirs, thirty kids crammed into a space meant for eight, and people are
producing vodka and dope from who knows where.
The second is that same night, when a blond kid who calls himself Spike winks
at him from his place lounging on one of the bunks and curls his tongue behind
his teeth.
Third, fourth and fifth times also come that evening, accompanied by filthy
words, then lips, then hands. The party winds down a little after midnight, but
there are still plenty of other kids in the room when he comes in his pants,
fast and hot and sticky. Some are watching; most are doing their own thing. No-
one seems very worried about what God might think.
The thought comes again later, hard and shocking like a hammer blow, but that’s
nothing to do with adolescent fumbling. That’s thanks to a camp counsellor
who’s aptly – and yet ironically – named for his supposed role in bringing them
onto the path of righteousness, and a beautiful but troubled boy called Dean.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dean’s in Lindsey’s cabin. He’s brash and foul-mouthed, full of bravado, and
ended up at the camp because he was caught thieving and it was this or juvie.
He also helps the kids who suck at archery and swimming to get better, and
sometimes he screams in his sleep.
Whenever Angelus is leading their activities or prayer groups, Dean gets
fidgety and weird. It’s like he’s nervous, looking down at his feet and darting
his eyes away, face way too serious for his age and a flush on his cheeks.
Angelus notices and smiles to himself like he’s the only one in on some big
joke, and it doesn’t make any sense at all.
Until it does.
Dean’s sick one day and needs to stay inside. During the afternoon, Lindsey
asks a counsellor called Riley if he can go check on him, see if he’s okay.
Riley’s a good guy, and he says sure.
It turns out that Dean’s not alone in the cabin. Lindsey doesn’t know if he’s
really sick or not, but either way, a chance glance through the window has
Lindsey stumbling in his tracks before he gets to the cabin door. Disbelieving,
he looks again, and Dean is definitely crushed beneath Angelus, the material of
his pillowcase clamped between his teeth.
Dean’s sleep pants are bunched around his thighs and Angelus doesn’t seem to
have done more than unzip. Lindsey’s never actually seen two men having sex
before – not even on the internet, because he’s too paranoid that someone will
find out what he’s been watching – but it’s obvious what’s going on.
Dean’s fourteen. That’s what keeps bouncing around Lindsey’s head as their
adult counsellor – who’s there to guide and instruct them in the ways of
Christianity – pounds into his ass.
Lindsey knows that what he did with Spike wasn’t exactly right, but it wasn’t
wrong in the way that this is wrong. He doesn’t know whether Dean said yes or
not, but that hardly matters; he’s not a grown-up and Angelus is.
Lindsey hangs around long enough to hear Angelus tell Dean that he takes it
good, like the pretty little bitch that he is, and then he turns to leave,
sickened. As he does, his foot crunches on gravel and Angelus looks up. Lindsey
gasps and runs away, but he’s pretty sure that the counsellor saw him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Did he hurt you?”
“What? Who?”
“Angelus. I saw…what he did.”
“Oh, fuck… Listen. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Did you want to do it?”
“Jesus, Lindsey. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“If he forced you… We need to tell someone.”
“No! Shit, no. He…didn’t. Honestly, he didn’t. I let him, so you can’t tell
anyone, okay? Do you promise?”
“I don’t know. I guess.”
“No, you have to promise me. And whatever you do, don’t let him know that you
know. Right?”
“Why?”
“Just don’t. He’s… You could just get in trouble, and I don’t want that.”
“Why? He’s the one who did something wrong.”
“Please just trust me, Lindsey. He can’t know that you’re a threat. I mean, he
could lose his job or whatever, so that’s gonna make him defensive, right?
Maybe he’d make things difficult for you or something.”
“I think he saw me watching.”
“Shit… Seriously?”
“Maybe. It’s okay, though. He’s not gonna risk making trouble for me when I
know that about him. Right?”
“I…guess. Yeah. Still, you should careful. Don’t be alone with him, all right?”
“What? Are you kidding? What do you think is gonna happen?”
“Nothing, it’s fine. Don’t worry. But how about you just humour me?”
“Fine. Whatever.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lindsey forgets all about Angelus – and pretty much everything else – a couple
nights later when Spike takes him by the hand and leads him out behind the
cabins, into the woods a little ways.
He knows they shouldn’t be out there together in the dark. He also knows that
it’s impossible to care, especially when Spike pushes him up against the rough
bark of a tree and presses tight to him, kissing the protests right out of his
mouth. Spike has a hand on his crotch and is whispering about how he wants to
taste him, to suck him until he blows, and Lindsey can’t for the life of him
remember why that’s a bad thing.
Spike is kneeling in the mulch already, mouth inexpertly breathing hot and wet
against Lindsey’s denim-covered dick, when Angelus emerges from the shadows.
Lindsey’s heart almost stops, but Spike doesn’t even notice. Frozen, too turned
on for his brain or his morals to supply any kind of reasonable solution,
Lindsey just watches Angelus watching him getting his very first blow job. He
wants to protest or run away or cry, but none of that stops him pulsing down
Spike’s throat in less than two minutes.
He doesn’t even remember to feel bad when he sprints off and leaves Spike in
the dirt with a confused expression and a hard-on.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dean’s words come rushing back when Lindsey finds himself alone in the little
chapel and Angelus’ dulcet Irish brogue comes ringing out of the darkness.
Angelus wants to ask him about his immortal soul, but it’s obviously some
cosmic joke to him. Lindsey wants to ask Angelus about his soul – and he’s not
kidding.
Lindsey’s a smart boy, calculating too in the way that’s going to make him a
great lawyer someday (although he doesn’t know it), and he’s sure that he
should have the upper hand in this situation. After all, Angelus is the adult,
with everything to lose and a prison sentence hanging over his head like
Damocles. But that’s not how it plays out.
The thing is, Angelus knows all too well that Lindsey fears exposure too – and
he’s experienced enough to exploit it better. Not only that, but he knows how
to make young boys’ bodies sing like a symphony of angels.
It’s hard to claim that you’ve been abused when you come like a fucking freight
train.
By midnight, the chapel is desecrated, spunk splatters glistening like opal in
the moonlight, and Lindsey thinks that he’s probably going to Hell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
One night, a kid from Spike’s cabin passes Dean a bottle of something closely
resembling white spirit and he hits it hard, like it’s some kind of target.
Dean claims that he understands monsters. He says they follow patterns, that
their evil is predictable. That stopping them is easy when you have the right
equipment. Lindsey has no fucking idea what he’s rambling about, but he knows
exactly what the boy means when he says that human monsters are the worst
because their brand of evil is continually surprising and senseless. According
to Dean, you can fend a ghost off with salt – but how the hell do you save
yourself from a counsellor that outweighs you by eighty pounds and can expose
your very worst secrets if you tell him no…?
Dean says later that he was drunk and kidding, but Lindsey never forgets that
haunted look in his eyes. The kid’s insane, no two ways, but it’s clear that he
believes what he’s saying: no-one fakes it that good.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The first time that Lindsey has sex, he’s not completely sure that his partner
is willing.
Angelus likes the way that he and Spike look together, so he tells them that
it’ll be beautiful if they’re each other’s first. Neither of them argue, and
they’re both hard, but no matter how forward Spike’s been with his hands and
mouth, Lindsey’s still not entirely convinced that his friend is ready to roll
over and offer up his virginity.
Spike does get off, but he cries too – and Lindsey doesn’t think it’s pain. Not
the physical kind.
Now Lindsey’s sure that he’s going to Hell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The day that they leave the camp, Dean says fiercely that he’s never going to
let another person take advantage of him, that he’s going to be stronger and
fight harder. Spike only meets Lindsey’s eyes long enough to say that they made
a big mistake.
Lindsey himself spent his last night getting pounded into a picnic table in the
storage shed, Angelus’ hand clamped over his mouth. He’s bruised and sore,
there are splinters in his thighs, and he hates the idea of another man’s sweat
on his back.
In fact, he thinks he’d be happy if no man ever touched him again.
When his parents pick him up, he hugs them extra hard, tells them he learned a
lot and says he’s sorry if he was ever bad.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lindsey’s parents log onto the site for ‘Camp Saint Michael: a cure for teenage
homosexuality’ and leave a glowing testimonial.
 
 
THE END
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