An angsty short little PWP piece. Takes place during BtVS season 7 and AtS Season 4.
The sound of footsteps moving quickly through the hallway came faintly to her ears at first, the reverberations intensifying as the distinctive rhythm drew closer. It was almost one in the morning, much too late in the night for most anyone to be out and about in this particularly posh and quiet west LA apartment building.
Buffy spun around from her position at the bay window where she had been standing since just after her arrival earlier that evening around 8, staring out in the dark and rainy LA night, as the footsteps came to a halt just outside the door.
Her heart sped up as the key was jammed into the lock impatiently, the knob on the door turning slowly.
She was halfway to the door by the time it swung open and he stood there, a dark shadow in the dimly lit hallway. It was only then that she realized she’d been standing at the window for hours, now in the dark.
“I thought I might miss you.” He murmured softly, his hair and jacket damp from the pouring rain outside.
“Angel.” Buffy whispered, almost afraid that the man in front of her would turn out to be yet another of her impractical fantasies or perhaps another one of the many dreams that often haunted her at night and kept her from sleeping.
In a blur of movement he stepped into the room and forcefully closed the door, locking it behind him. He shrugged out of his coat, tossing it on the chair near the door as he crossed the room to stand in front of her. “I’m soaked.” He apologized softly before reaching out and wrapping his arms around her, pulling her tiny frame tight against his.
“I’ve been trying to get here for hours.” He whispered into her hair, crushing her close. “I wanted to call,” he continued in a soft murmured against her lips while mentally thanking some benevolent spirit for giving her such patience to wait for him when he knew what she was up against in Sunnydale, how difficult it had to have been for her to escape from her duties and responsibilities if only for a few hours, “but I was never alone.”
Buffy clung to him tightly as if she never wanted to let him go, her heart aching a little bit with his words. While he hadn’t said as much, she knew that it was all part of the current charade to pretend that Cordelia was his love. It was, he believed, the best way to force her to reveal herself as the shrewd and vicious demon that he suspected she was.
“How long can you stay?” She asked softly, forcefully shoving thoughts of the former Sunnydale cheerleader out of her mind.
No matter his answer, she knew the truth. There was never enough time.
Never a future for them.
Only snatched bits of happiness here and there.
“Just a few hours.” Angel replied softly. He shouldn’t have left at all, but he wanted to see her again. Perhaps what might be one last time… He had to tell her in person just what he had decided to do, what he felt he had to do if they wanted to have any chance at defeating the Beast.
“I could help you.” She said the words even though she knew that they weren’t realistic. As had always been they case, they communicated easily without words. She knew what was on his mind even though he hadn’t said. Staying in Los Angeles to help Angel was not only unrealistic it was virtually impossible. She had her hands full in Sunnydale with the First Evil and the SITs, not to mention Spike trailing after her with his heartbroken face and unpredictable soul. And Giles… He would be disappointed if he found out that she had lied to them and snuck away to LA to see Angel, even if only for a few hours.
Angel didn’t answer immediately, so Buffy thought for a moment that he might actually agree even though they’d been over this time and again in the last few months. “You’re needed at home.”
“I know.” She unenthusiastically acquiesced, clutching him close and burying her head against the hard wall of his chest. Her eyes closed as she took comfort in the stillness, the utter quiet of his powerful frame. “Did you decide what to do?”
“I have to find out how to defeat the Beast, that’s all the matters. Let me turn on the light.” Angel dropped his arms, releasing her and switching to a topic less fraught with emotion for both of them.
“I want to see you.” Taking her hand he led her to the bedroom.
He’d rented this apartment months ago, a place where he and Buffy could meet discreetly when she was able to come to LA and when he was able to escape his responsibilities at Angel Investigations, which unfortunately hadn’t been often for either of them. The bed dominated the small room, large and opulent with dark heavily carved posts and draped with diaphanous tulle. A rich deep wine-red brocade duvet covered the high feather mattress, giving the bed an almost sinful appearance, clearly more than suitable for the carnal delights that had been in mind when it was purchased.
“Wait.” Angel softly demanded, stopping her in the center of the room. He moved to the shelves along the wall and expertly lit the multitude of candles that aligned the top.
It was enough that he was here, that they were together, she thought, watching him with an intensity that matched her feelings. His hair, still slightly damp from his trip through the rain, was darker in the dim room. Her eyes moved lower, taking in the black merino silk of his shirt that clung to his shoulders, emphasizing their breath. The shirt was tucked into an equally dark pair of black trousers, flattering his narrow waist and lean hips. His body was so gorgeous, it bordered on sinful. Lithe, graceful, athletic… and that was clothed. Nude…
“You look beautiful.” He whispered, now standing in front of as if suddenly transported by magic, so quickly and quietly had he moved. He was staring down at her in the golden glow of the candlelight. She’d been so intent on watching him that she hadn’t noticed the dozens of vanilla scented candles that he’d lit along the shelf, the window, the night table. “I’ve thought of you every minute since I saw you last.”
Buffy reached up and ran her fingers across the dark slash of his brown, through the spikey locks of his hair. “Me too.” Her voice was hushed, almost vibrating with emotion.
“How are you?” He asked casually, reaching to push her black leather jacket down over her shoulders.
Buffy smiled slightly in reply, reaching for the top button on his shirt. “Better now that you’re here.”
“Me too. To hell with the First, with the Beast.” He smiled then, showing his perfect white teeth. The rarely seen sight moved her, and she wondered briefly about his life as young Liam. She wondered what he had been like so carefree and happy. She would have loved to see him then, to have known him.
“We need to retire.” He added, tossing her jacket on the over-sized chair behind her.
“Let’s run away together.” Buffy declared in response, pulling his shirt of his pants and unbuttoning the last button. Slowly she eased it down his arms, her eyes admiring the cool, chiseled expanse of his chest. Carefully she turned and laid his shirt on the chair behind her.
“Just us.” Angel toed off his shoes, his eyes trained on her face as if savoring every single glimpse of her.
“No one else.” Buffy agreed, her hands reaching for his belt buckle and unclasping the silver fastener.
He lifted her black camisole top over her head gently, “Anywhere where I can be with you, sweetheart,” before tossing it behind her as his attention turned to her lace-clad breasts. His fingertips tenderly brushed the swell of creamy flesh just above the pink lace. There was a quiet happiness that consumed him when they were together, that made him wish more than anything that it was possible for them to have a life together.
She loosened his belt and unbuttoned his pants, sliding the zipper down slowly. As her hand slipped inside and cupped him gently, he sighed softly and a near purring sound began low in his chest.
“Mmm…, that’s nice.” He murmured softly, reaching behind her to unhook her bra. “Mmm… that’s nicer.” His voice was velvet soft as he ran his palm over the ripe fullness of her breast. “I missed these.” He murmured, pulling the lace bra down her shoulders and baring her to his gaze. Her dark pink nipples were succulent, peaked and practically begging for his attentions. He lifted her breasts in his palms, squeezing them gently and making them quiver, the touch of his hands on her body sending heated spirals of want straight to her core. “They’re so beautiful… so perfect.” His hands slid around so that his fingers could close on her nipples. Lightly at first, the merest pressure of his forefinger and thumb, and then he tugged, gently stretching the taut peaks.
Buffy gasped at the streaking pleasure.
“You need me, don’t you?” Angel whispered huskily near her ear, leaning down and sliding his mouth along her throat. He laved at the scar on her neck before biting down with blunted teeth.
“Desperately.” Buffy breathed, the single word filled with intense desire, a near breathless longing.
“I’m glad you were here tonight.” He reached for the buttons on her jeans, roughly yanking them open and pushing the denim down her hips. It always astonished him, the pleasure that he felt at just being able to see her naked beauty. His hand stroked her flat stomach and moved lower, brushing across the whimsical heart print v-string panty that she wore.
“Cute.” He smiled down at her as his hand slipped between her legs, rubbing her wet heat through the printed cotton.
“Mm…” She murmured with a gratified and teasing smile, “For you.” Desire hummed through her body in a steady, feverish and demanding rhythm. How could this man so easily bring her to such a fever pitch?
“Only me.” Angel growled possessively, returning his lips to her neck and biting harder, sucking the delicate flesh through his teeth even as his fingers continued their expert manipulations of her sopping wet core. Buffy only mewled in response and dropped her head to the side giving him better access.
“Let’s just take these,” Angel suggestively murmured, sliding the tiny soaked panties down her legs to pool at her feet with her pants. “off.”
“And these…” Buffy purred, kicking her pants and sandals out of the way as she stripped his pants from him as well. Her luminescent green gaze locked to his rich mahogany one, she reached out and took his erection in both hands, stroking it with maddening slowness.
“Did he miss me?” She teased, smiling playfully and leaning down to touch the velvety tip with her tongue.
“More than you can imagine.” His eyes closed and his entire body tensed as he felt her warm breath on his sensitive arousal, followed by the wet lapping of her tongue. She enveloped him in the warm heat of her mouth, sucking gently and bobbing her head. His hand cradled her head as she pleasured him, dropping to her knees to take him in her mouth with greater ease.
He rocked gently on his feet as she moved, taking him deeper into her mouth and throat, sucking him with a voracious hunger that belied any prior sensation he had ever experienced. Her fingertips closed over the base of his shaft, pulling gently in time with her mouth and adding a squeezing pressure to the rapidly building climb to the peak of sensation. When he would have stopped her, she shook him away and continued her enthusiastic sucking pressure, urging him to greater heights of pleasure. He groaned softly as he reached the jolt of orgasmic sensation, Buffy greedily swallowing his cold seed.
“I love you.” He murmured softly, his fingers threading through the silken locks of her hair.
Her gaze swung up to his face, her tongue still caressing the vein along the underside of his now semi-hard erection. “I love you.”
He gazed down at her, her golden hair spilling over her shoulders, her skin creamy and rich in the golden glow of the candlelight, her green eyes hot with desire and he wondered how he would ever live without her.
“Come here.” He said, his voice husky and low.
He pulled her to the bed and drew her down, content to lay beside her for a long quiet time, hungry simply for the feel of her against him. The warmth of her body seeped into his, warming him from the inside as the wonder of her love touched his very soul. “I’ve thought of you – wanted to hold you so often.”
“Stay with me.” She whispered into his shoulder, her face buried against his neck, one leg draped over his body.
“Someday I will.” Angel replied softly. If he came back from what was planned, he thought. Or if the Beast didn’t kill him. Rising on one elbow, he gazed down at her wanting to preserve her image in his memory – every exquisite detail, every perfect curve and graceful arc.
“You’re so beautiful. Perfection.” He reverently whispered, his eyes and fingertips tracing the valley of her breasts. “A goddess.” His hand glided over her stomach, stopping just above the neatly trimmed curls between her legs.
“You’re mine. Forever.” He growled softly with passion, his hand moving lower to reach the wet heat between her legs.
His eyes returned to her face, his dark gaze focused on her with a piercing intensity. He wanted an affirmation of his own thoughts, his own feelings. He wanted to be sure that he wasn’t alone in his obsession, in his love for her. He needed words, as if he couldn’t tell how she felt from the heated pulsing of her body, her rapid heartbeat and frantic breathing, the impassioned look of desire and love so feverishly apparent in her eyes.
“I’m yours. Always.” She murmured softly, her tongue licking across her lips. She dropped her head back on the bed, arching her throat as she urgently lifted her hips against his hand, wanting to quell the impatient, burning need that he had stirred inside her.
Bending his dark head, he brushed his lips across his mark on her neck once more. “You’re my world…” His lips settled on hers hungrily as his finger slipped inside her, stroking the damp pulsing flesh. His thumb brushed her clitoris, tracing the swollen nub with lazy circles as he leisurely explored the sweet taste of her mouth with his own.
“Yes…” She keened softly, when he lifted his head and allowed her to catch her breath. She continued to move, arching her hips and rotating them with a bewitching urgency against the three fingers had now had buried in her hot channel, seeking more. “More…”
Her breathing was coming in pants, her skin glowing with a faint sheen of perspiration as he pushed her to the very edge of ecstasy and held her there.
“I’ll give you everything.” Angel whispered, shifting his weight and easing between her legs, unable to wait any longer before burying himself inside her.
“Now, Angel, please… ” Buffy whimpered, her words catching in her throat as he pressed forward parting the sleek pulsing tissue of her labia and sank down inside her, seating himself to the hilt. That single thrust was more than enough for her already over stimulated senses and she cried out, bucking hard against him as she plunged over the edge into orgasmic bliss.
He stayed still inside her, content to lavish her features with soft kisses, waiting until she roused.
“You’re as good as I remembered.” Buffy softly breathed, opening her eyes with wonder.
He smiled but didn’t move, only kissed her. A gentle, seductive kiss that grew slowly in intensity, once more stirring the heated flame of desire.
“Ummm…” she purred softly against his lips, opening her mouth and luring his tongue inside, offering herself with an enchanting eagerness.
His mouth lifted after a time and lowered to her throat, where he nipped at her sensitive flesh and laved at her pulse, as Buffy sighed in pleasure, her hands moving restlessly over his shoulders and through his hair. He kissed a path down to her breasts, sliding out of her as he shifted lower.
Buffy whimpered softly at the loss of his fullness inside her and clutched at him, attempting to draw him back to her even as he resisted and nuzzled the taut peak of her nipple. The infinitesimal pressure of his teeth closed on the hardened tip and she moaned, arching more tightly against him and pressing her sensitive flesh more firmly to his mouth.
The pinked crests elongated and darkened as he suckled on them with excruciating slowness, alternating light nipping sucks with harder, more forceful pulls of his mouth. He licked them gently, nibbling them and swirling his tongue around the rigid peaks until he brought her to a panting urgency. Her eyes were closed, her body quivering with sexual need.
He moved down in the bed, planting nipping kisses along her abdomen as moved lower, parting her thighs wider with his palms. He stroked the firm muscles of her sleek inner thighs, his hands moving gradually upward until he reached her heated core. Sliding a delicate fingertip along the pulsing, engorged flesh, he whispered, “Mmm… you’re so wet, sweetheart, so hot and delicious.”
Buffy closed her eyes tightly against the licentious surge rippling through her heated vaginal channel at his wanton words.
Bending his head he licked a path to her clitoris that elicited an immediate response, Buffy crying out sharply as she came with a wild gasping sob. When she calmed, he parted her vulva gently and slipped his tongue inside, lapping up the abundant honey flowing from her wet heat. He traced the distended and swollen nub of her clit with exquisite slowness, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth. Her panting cries echoed through the room as he extravagantly, gratifyingly indulged both himself and her, as he used every bit of his acquired expertise to bring her to the height of pleasure again and again.
She was quivering with rapacious need when he climbed back up her body, sliding inside her with exquisite slowness. He moved slowly, gliding in and out of her hot, tight and exceedingly wet channel, feeling her luxurious heat close around him with gratifying pleasure. He wanted to plunge into her recklessly, mindlessly, to lose himself inside her yet at the same time he wanted nothing more than to slow the pace and prolong the agonizing rapture.
Her hands roamed over his chest, his shoulders and his face, in a restless and urgent flutter until they stopped at the short hairs at the nape of his neck, her fingertips raking over them gently. “Angel.” She whimpered pleadingly, her senses on fire as the turbulent delirium was fast overwhelming her again.
“I’m here.” He whispered in reply, raw emotion in his voice.
Her golden hair was wild and loose on the pillow beneath her, the rich color gleaming like the most precious of metals in the amber glow of the candlelight. Reaching up she clutched the nape of his neck with strong arms, pulling his head toward her, her lips seeking his. “Stay. Forever.” She beseeched him softly, a mild terror gripping her as brief moment of reality intruded in her mind.
“I’ll always be with you.” He murmured against her lips, kissing her softly while all the while knowing that she wanted the words however dissembling they might be, even while knowing that as he spoke them that tonight might be all they would ever have.
Her eyes filled with tears, her fears unassuaged by his words, knowing the truth as much as he did.
He loved her then gently, kissing away her tears, telling her in romantic phrases of his love for her, words that made her forget for a time about the evils that lurked outside this room for them and about the preciousness of their time together. He moved slowly as he whispered to her, drawing out the exquisite pleasure, bringing her expertly to climax only to start the joyous torture again. She clung to him greedily as impassioned need inundated her thoughts and her body, allowing her fears to dissolve in a sumptuous haze of pleasure while her sadness burned away in the fiery flames of lust.
“Love me” she mewled softly. And he did. He loved her to distraction, his love for her reaching the deepest depth of her heart, her soul, her senses, her mind, her body, her sweet wanton sex until at last he collapsed against her… and they lay replete.
They were half asleep in each other’s arms when a noise in the corridor woke Angel with a start. He groaned softly, his closing his eyes again but only for a brief moment before he opened them again and glanced down at Buffy.
“Are you sleeping?” He whispered softly, adjusting her in the curve of his arm.
“Yes. I can’t move. You have to stay.” She replied hesitantly, her voice sounding remote and almost girlish.
“I’ll tell them to take care of the Beast without me. Giles can handle the First Evil.” He murmured softly, kissing the top of her head.
“That’s what I was thinking.”
“If only we didn’t have reality.” Angel sighed, sliding up in the bed to rest against the pillows, lifting Buffy into his lap. “I was thinking…”
“That you should go back with me?” Buffy said with a small smile, her expression hopeful.
Placing a finger across her lips, Angel smiled back. “Maybe this will be over within a few weeks.”
She said nothing for a long minute, simply listened to the beating of her own heart, the delicate pattering of the rain against the window.
“You’re going to do it, aren’t you?” She asked finally in the hush stillness of the room.
“I have to.” Angel affirmed, looking away from her face. “Angelus is the only way we can find out about the Beast and since I can’t lose my soul for perfect happiness anymore, this Shaman taking it is the only way.”
Buffy debated for a moment the degree of her unselfishness, her unwillingness to lose him again to his demon, the uncertainties of the future. “Do they know?”
“About my soul? No.”
“What will they believe then?” She questioned, shifting her position slightly and resting her head just under his chin.
“The Shaman will take my soul with the ritual. They don’t need to know anything.” He couldn’t tell her the extent with which he was trying to protect her, to protect the relationship that the world didn’t seem to want them to have, that the Powers had all but denied them. He would go as far as he had to, but he actually wondered if he would be a good enough actor to make them actually believe that he had feelings for … egads … Cordelia.
“I don’t know, Angel. Angelus back… it’s not really a safe plan.”
“You have no faith, love.” Angel forced a smile, tilting her head back to look at him. He had the same doubts, the same fears. But she had enough to worry about on her own. It bothered him more than he could admit that he couldn’t just abandon his post here in LA and rush to Sunnydale to fight the First Evil along side her. “I’ll – not Angelus – me – I will be in Sunnydale before summer.”
“I’ll wait for you then.” Buffy replied, capitulating. They each had their own battles to fight. She wouldn’t let him tell her how to fight hers anymore than she could tell him how to fight his. Somehow though, whether in this life or the next, they would find their way back to each other. Of that, she had faith.
He kissed her then, a lingering bittersweet kiss of love and farewell, the sweetest and saddest kiss in the world. With the return of Angelus and his soul in the hands of people that he wasn’t sure he could trust, there were no guarantees that anyone would survive the bloodbath that could ensue, not even he. And even if he did survive, Buffy was facing the First Evil … No, there was no guarantee that either of them would survive.
“Call me when you can.” He ordered softly. ” I want to know everything that’s going on.”
“You won’t care as Angelus.” Buffy replied petulantly, her feelings dangerously close to the surface and out of control.
“Try.” He amended quietly, not telling her that Angelus would care. That the demon suffered the same obsession for her that he himself did. “Wait for me. I’ll come for you, I promise.”
“I’ll wait forever, Angel.” Buffy whispered and clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as she gave in to the tears that had been threatening. She cried softly against his chest, her tears warm against his cool skin, the scent of her filling his nostrils. Slowly he untwined her arms from around his neck and kissed her eyes and cheeks and nose and lastly her mouth with aching tenderness.
“I have to go. It will be daylight soon.” He said with a sigh. “Wish me luck.”
“I wish you” Buffy replied with a sad smile, her finger tracing the slant of his brow, “only the very best of luck and victory.”
“And the same – tenfold – for you, my love.” Angel raised her fingers to his lips and kissed them, then lifted her from his lap. Rising from the bed he stood utterly still for a moment attempting to shake off the feeling of foreboding that had settled over him.
Buffy watched him in silence as he dressed, not knowing if this was to be her last sight of him: his powerful, muscled body moving easily with grace and power, the paleness of his skin illuminated by the golden glow of the candlelight. He smiled at her occasionally as he dressed, his own thoughts preoccupied, but the warmth and affection in his gaze could certainly not be denied.
He was her lover, her strength, her bulwark, she thought, her mind attempting to stave off the coming chill of solitude, of darkness that had surrounded her when they had last been separated. How would she manage, should he not return to her? Despite her grim thoughts, she returned his smile and thought how lucky she had been to have found him, to have been part of his life no matter how sporadic and brief their time.
When he sat on the bed to pull on his shoes, she came to her knees behind him and leaned on his back. She didn’t want to let him go.
“Put something on, sweet, or I’ll never get out of here.” He glanced at her affectionately over his shoulder, pushing aside his own gloomy thoughts at their parting, as she kissed his ear and moved away.
She dressed quickly, tugging on her jeans and camisole top.
Standing again he buckled his belt and glanced around the room. The soft tread of his footsteps on the hardwood floor were the only sounds in the silence of the room, the hush of this parting a nearly suffocating presence.
She met him halfway when he started toward her. She didn’t want to cry during their last few minutes together so she forced her mind to consider the happiness that he’d brought her, the love, the unmitigated joy.
Mentally he was already leaving her, his visage grim and dark. It was the only way he could force himself to go. His expression was remote and slightly foreboding as he glanced down at her face.
“Don’t forget me.” He said softly, pulling her into his arms one last time.
“Never.” She lifted her gaze to his face, her eyes lambent. “You have to come out of this Angel. You have to live.”
“I’ll see you soon.” His head dipped and his lips brushed hers, a gentle kiss without emotion for he could not allow it. Not now.
“I’ll wait for you.” She said, her hands finding purchase on his shoulders as she rose up on tiptoe to brush his mouth with hers one last time. She clung to him briefly before she released him and stepped back.
“Take care of yourself. Promise?” He whispered, brushing her hair back from her eyes.
She nodded, her mouth trembling and her eyes watering, against her wishes to the contrary. “Yes. I love you.” She breathed softly as he nodded and turned to walk away.
He paused at the door, swiveling around to look at her again. He tried to smile but failed. “I love you.” His eyes were darker in the shadows, his appearance intimidating. “Nothing can change that, not even death.” He finished in a soft whisper.
And then he was gone.
With a heavy heart, Buffy gathered her things and prepared to return to Sunnydale.
The First Evil was waiting.