New Year's Slash, Part 3/3

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"Always," Angel replied, shaking his head. He turned away
from the bed and laid an arm over Doyle's shoulders, moving
the smaller man with him back into the living room. Doyle
allowed himself to be returned to the couch and their
earlier position. "Now where were we?" Angel asked softly.
He'd never even thought about Doyle sexually before, but
now all he could think about was the naked lust in his best
friend's eyes, and the naked body under his clothes.

"I think we were - here," said Doyle, and reached up to
pull Angel's head down into a kiss.

Angel wasted no time. He pressed his tongue eagerly into
the willing mouth beneath his. It was wonderful, to sink
into that welcoming warmth. Doyle took him in with a murmur
of lust, stroking his tongue with his own, strong fingers
holding his face. Angel's own hands, his lips remembered
the last person who had yielded to his embrace this way,
but he felt no regret. This was what he wanted, and for
once he had no guilt at taking just what he wanted, gladly
as it was offered. His body would not mistake this lover
for his last, and he realized with relief that he didn't
want to forget who was really in his arms. He would not be
longing for anyone other than Doyle, his friend, tonight.

He drew away a little from that delicious mouth, allowing
his partner to catch his breath. Doyle gasped, eyes closed,
and muttered something that might have been a blasphemy, or
might have been a prayer; Angel wasn't sure. He nuzzled his
way with tiny kisses down the stubbled cheek presented to
him, to the smooth skin of the pale neck beneath. Doyle's
hands slid around his shoulders and held on, as he pulled
his friend's smaller body close to him and pressed his face
into the luxurious curve of neck and shoulder. He licked at
the pulse point of the big vein there, feeling the blood
rush. Once he might have been maddened by it, but now his
lover's heartbeat became a thrumming pulse in his own cold
body, a drumbeat counterpoint to the surge of lust that was
spreading a flush like a fever over his skin.

But, he realized in a sharp instant of awareness, Doyle
couldn't feel the difference between hunger and passion in
his body; Doyle only knew that a vampire was pressing an
eager mouth against his very vulnerable neck -

so it wasn't really a surprise when Doyle arched back with
a little cry of fright, pushing him away with the hands
that had a few moments ago been pulling him down.

He was stronger than Doyle, despite that the other man was
half-demon, and he turned his strength gently against him,
holding him still. "Easy, easy, shh," he whispered into
Doyle's ear. Shuddering, Doyle pushed at him in panic;
Angel could scent both lust and fear rolling off his body
in waves, in time to the thundering of his heart. "Shh,
it's all right, it's just me," he murmured. Doyle quieted a
tiny bit, and Angel lifted his head to meet the other's
frightened blue eyes. He put all the reassurance he could
muster into his face and his voice. He couldn't blame him
for a sudden change of heart, but he really didn't want his
friend to run away from him now. He loosened his hold a
little, enough to let Doyle know he could go if he wanted,
holding on enough to let him know he wanted him to stay.
"It's just me, Doyle; I won't hurt you. It's okay. Okay?"

Doyle drew in a deep shaky breath. "Jaysus, Angel, scare a
guy, why don'cha?"

Angel couldn't help chuckling. "Sorry, I didn't mean to,"
he apologized. "Look, if you want to stop, I'll
understand..."

"No," said Doyle, with just the faintest waver in his
voice. "No, I want it, I want you; I just - forgot for a
minute, that's all." His hands were still tense and hard on
Angel's shoulders, and he searched Angel's face for a sign.

Angel leaned his head down, resting their foreheads
together. "Breathe," he whispered.

Doyle settled slowly against him, breathing deeply to
steady his rattled nerves. Angel caught each exhale of
breath, drawing it into his own throat, sharing the taste
and scent of Doyle's fear and passion and life. Finally,
Doyle relaxed, and slid his arms around Angel again, hands
splayed on his back as if to gather up as much of him as
they could. He tipped his face up to Angel's, moving up the
column of their shared breath to touch Angel's lips with
his own. "Yes," he whispered into his mouth. "Yes, Angel."

Angel sighed softly at the words, knowing that Doyle was
still a little afraid, but was willing to trust him anyway.
"Doyle," he murmured, "Doyle, don't be afraid of me." He
pressed the smaller man down into the soft couch, lifting
up to let hips and legs adjust, fitting his body over his
lover's, finding comfort and heat. Doyle caught his face
again and brought him down into another kiss, this one
demanding and hard, Doyle's tongue thrusting into his mouth
and driving fear away.

Angel groaned helplessly, rolling his hips against Doyle's
groin, pressing their erections together. Doyle came up for
air with a gasp. "Oh, Angel, yeah!" Angel thrust against
him again, and again, and Doyle dug his heels into the
couch and lifted his hips to meet him in a perfect, perfect
rhythm. Doyle arched his back, throwing his head back
against the cushions.

Angel drew a hard breath at the wanton sight and dropped
his face into the hollow of Doyle's throat. He knew he had
to say something, to keep from scaring Doyle again, so he
panted, "We're gonna come in our pants," which made Doyle
snort with laughter.

"Haven't done that since I was a kid," the Irishman said
breathlessly. "Might be fun."

"oh - rrr - " Angel was losing the power of speech, giving
in to little growls instead. It had been so long, so damned
long; there was no way he could hold back. He worried for a
brief sane instant that his partner would mistake his
sounds of passion, but Doyle grabbed his ass in both hands,
pressing him down, and humped up hard into him, and held
himself tight there, shuddering and coming and whimpering
and that was it; Angel lost it and came with a yell that he
muffled against Doyle's shoulder.

They collapsed together, Doyle panting, Angel
half-conscious on top of him.

"Hey," Doyle managed finally, "move; I can't breathe."

Angel slid down his lover's body so that he wasn't resting
his weight on the other man's ribcage, and settled down
between Doyle's legs, his head resting on Doyle's chest.
"Better?"

Doyle answered by petting his hair. Angel purred like a cat
at the intimate gesture, and rubbed his cheek against
Doyle's silky shirt. He grinned, realizing that they were
both still completely clothed. "Gonna have to get you
naked," he murmured.

"Likewise," Doyle mumbled back. "Jus' gimme a minute."

Angel unbuttoned the bottom three buttons of Doyle's soft
shirt - it felt nice, but the color was godawful, Angel
mused; maybe the man was simply color-blind? - and pressed
a soft wet kiss to Doyle's exposed belly. Doyle batted
lightly at his head. Angel continued the kissing, down to
the waistband of Doyle's jeans. The smell of spent semen
was strong and heady in his nostrils, and he felt himself
getting aroused again. Vampire recovery time beat human, or
even half-human, no contest, he thought smugly.

He bounced to his feet, startling Doyle with the suddenness
of his movements. "Where're you off to?" Doyle asked.

"Taking care of business. Don't go anywhere," and he headed
to the kitchen.

"Not a chance a' that," said Doyle lazily. Angel opened the
refrigerator and snatched out a bag of food. He kept his
back to his partner while he sliced it open with his teeth
and drank the cold stuff directly from its container. It
tasted awful, cold like that, but he didn't want to take
the time to warm it up. It didn't have to taste good;
besides, Angel had an appetite for something different,
that would leave a much more pleasing taste in his mouth.

Angel threw the emptied bag away and stalked back to his
lover. He tugged off his black shirt as he went and Doyle
watched him, admiration clear in his eyes. It was good for
the ego, Angel admitted to himself.

Doyle quirked an eyebrow at him. "We goin' again?" the
half-demon asked hopefully. "Or you just getting'
comfortable?"

"What do you think?" Angel tugged his pants and briefs off
together, stepping out of the clothes with near-sober
grace, and kicked them into a pile with his shirt. His cock
lifted itself erect and looked around with interest. Angel
grinned.

His new lover blinked at him. "Damn, you're big," Doyle
muttered. Angel wasn't sure whether he meant his body or
his cock, but he was willing to accept the compliment
either way.

Doyle began struggling with the button on his damp jeans,
still lying on his back with his shirt on. Naked and
unself-conscious, Angel leaned over him, hooked his fingers
under the waistband of jeans and boxers, and dragged them
off with one motion, popping the zipper open and making
Doyle yelp in surprise. Apparently the recovery time of a
young half-demon was pretty good, too, Angel thought,
looking down at his partner's already semi-hard cock, and
he wondered briefly if Cordelia would find them happily
expired from exertion in the morning.

He sat down by Doyle's hip and looked at his face. Doyle
met his gaze with a little uncertainty. Angel didn't know
if the uncertainty was caused by self-consciousness or by
second thoughts. He slid his hands carefully up Doyle's
sides, under the silky shirt, and let them rest over the
other man's taut nipples. "Still want to?" he asked.

Doyle drew a deep breath. "Oh, yeah, I want to. Oh yeah."

"Good," Angel murmured. He moved his hands apart, tearing
the shirt open and away from Doyle's body with no
perceptible effort. Doyle swallowed hard and made a sound
that might have been a protest if it hadn't been too late,
his fists tightening on the couch. "Ugly shirt," Angel said
softly, teasing, and Doyle relaxed, making a face at him.

Angel bent down to kiss his lover's soft mouth again. He
felt Doyle's hands stroking his chest, lingering over his
cool smooth skin. He moaned into the kiss and gently,
gently bit at Doyle's lower lip. Doyle shivered, and
slipped his hands around Angel to stroke up and down his
back. Angel shifted his weight to one arm and stroked down
Doyle's body with the other hand, pinching a nipple in
passing, stroking the navel with his thumb, finally letting
his hand wrap around the shaft of Doyle's hard cock.

Doyle whimpered and tried to levitate off the couch, trying
to get deeper kisses and harder caresses and a handful of
Angel's ass all at once. Angel lifted his head and smiled
down into Doyle's wide blue eyes, his fist still slowly
stroking the smooth hot shaft. He turned, sliding carefully
off the couch to kneel on the floor, leaning over Doyle's
shivering body, to drag his tongue up the underside of the
trembling cock in his hand. Doyle moaned and caught his
right hand, twining their fingers together and gripping
hard. It occurred to Angel that this might be a frightening
thing to do with a vampire. "You okay with this?" he asked
softly, looking over at Doyle's face.

Doyle stared back with wide hungry eyes, his lips parted.
"I'm good wit' it," he said in a strained voice. "Don't
stop now!"

Angel smiled and bent his head again to Doyle's hot flesh.
He lapped at the drop of wetness on the tip, enjoying his
lover's wriggles and sounds of passion. He slid his mouth
slowly down the length, tightened his lips and sucked
gently, and Doyle thrashed under him. He let go of Doyle's
hand, to take his lover's cock in his right hand and cup
his balls in his left. His own cock hung heavy, hard and
sensitive, but he ignored the need to touch, perversely
enjoying the almost-pain of his insistent erection. He slid
the cock he was pleasuring almost out of his mouth,
pressing the soft head between his lips and pulling a gasp
of delight from Doyle, then stroked the shaft a few more
times with his mouth, letting himself adjust to the
once-familiar feeling of another man's cock in his mouth.
Finally, when the whimpers from Doyle told him the other
man was about to go mad with pleasure, he arched his neck
and opened wider and slid the fiery-hot cock past the ring
of muscle into his throat, and swallowed. Doyle screamed
through  clenched teeth and came helplessly, flooding
Angel's mouth and throat with bitter fluid. Angel held on,
letting Doyle enjoy a pleasure impossible to experience
with a breathing partner. He knew just how incredible it
felt to have the firm flexing hold of another's swallowing
throat on his cock while he came, and he was happy to share
the ecstasy.

Doyle collapsed back on the pillow with a long groan, his
lean body limp. Angel carefully released his softening,
sensitive cock, and swallowed the rest of the thick cream
in his mouth. It had a sharp tang, but it tasted better
than cold blood - not a comparison he planned to share. He
squeezed Doyle's thigh. "Haven't done that in years," he
mused.

"Couldn't tell," Doyle panted. "Man!"

Angel smiled at the sight of him. He was gorgeous, with his
black hair tousled and his fair skin flushed, and his blue
eyes bright with the afterglow. Angel leaned forward
impulsively and kissed him. Doyle chuckled, and swiped at
his lips with his tongue. "Did I taste good?"

"Very good," Angel murmured against his mouth. "Sweet as
honey."

Doyle snickered. "Vamp taste buds really are off, then,
aren't they?"

"Just go with it," Angel replied.

Doyle sat up, leaning down to kiss Angel hard, one hand
cradling the back of his head. "Your turn," Doyle said,
nipping at Angel's lower lip. "We need more room."

"Too bad Cordelia's got the bed."

"Well, there's always the nice soft floor," said Doyle. He
slid off the couch, pressing Angel down beneath him onto
the carpet.

Angel reached out and shoved the coffee table aside to make
more room. He put a little too much enthusiasm into the
push, and the table skidded across the floor and banged
against the far wall. "Oops."

"Don't wake Cordelia," snickered Doyle.

Angel cocked his head to listen, and heard soft snores from
the bedroom. "Not much chance of that."

Doyle stretched out full length on top of Angel, holding
his head still and diving into his mouth with a possessive
kiss. Angel relaxed into it willingly and let Doyle take
the lead. After a minute of Doyle's single-minded kissing,
Angel's hard-on, trapped snugly between their bodies, was
starting to make him uncomfortably aroused. "Doyle..." he
murmured, around his lover's tongue.

Doyle slid down Angel's body, tasting his skin with moist
open kisses, giving his cock a long wet lick from root to
tip. Angel lay back with a groan. This was so good, and he
had almost managed to forget how good a lover's touch could
feel; he wondered if he would ever be able to bury those
feelings and desires away again, and even if he really had
to, anymore.

Doyle nuzzled at his balls, stroking his thighs with hard
hands; Angel shuddered and dug his fingers into the carpet
to keep from grabbing Doyle's head and taking his
tantalizing mouth where he wanted it to go. But Doyle,
thankfully,  didn't make Angel wait for it. Angel lifted
his head again to watch as his hard flesh sank into Doyle's
hot mouth, and he almost came at the erotic sight of it.
Doyle met his eyes briefly, and then closed his own,
concentrating on pleasuring him. Angel continued to watch,
shamelessly enjoying the sight of the other man working on
his cock. He felt his lover draw a deep breath through his
nose, and bit back a cry of sheer ecstacy as Doyle
deep-throated him. Doyle managed to hold him there, throat
spasming around his shaft, for a few seconds before he had
to pull back and suck in air.

"Don't hurt yourself," Angel panted. He was shivering and
on fire; he felt nearly delirious from the heat burning in
his unliving body.

"mmmhmph," Doyle replied reassuringly, without taking
Angel's cock out of his mouth. Doyle reached up to play
with Angel's nipple, pinching ungently as he worked his
throat around Angel's cock again. It was too much; Angel
grunted a warning and came hard, waves of pleasure crashing
through him. He felt Doyle swallowing, and closed his eyes,
letting the sensations wash over him, for once not holding
back. He felt his body writhing in abandon on the floor and
realized hazily that this was the closest he would ever get
again to feeling like a human being. When it was over and
he could open his eyes, Doyle was lying beside him, one
hand on his chest, smiling at him. "Feels good to let go,
yeah?"

"It does," Angel whispered. Doyle leaned down to his mouth,
hesitating for a moment to give Angel a chance to turn
away, but Angel pulled him down into the kiss. He slid his
tongue in and tasted himself in the other man's mouth. It
tasted nothing like Doyle's had; it was cool and gelid, and
he wondered if the taste had bothered Doyle.

"Did I taste bad?" he asked.

"Nope," Doyle said cheerfully. "Not like I expected, mind
you. Kinda like - peaches."

Angel blinked up at him. "You're kidding, right?"

"Soft, overripe peaches." Doyle licked his lips. "You
remember what peaches taste like?" Angel frowned hard,
trying to recall the taste of peaches, then wondering if he
had ever even eaten a peach in his living life.

Doyle got a strange look on his face. "Hey, uhm, I - I
should've asked this before - actually prob'ly I shouldn't
be asking it at all, it's not that I don't trust you, I
just - uh - "

"What?" Angel asked, worried, forgetting about the peaches.

"Uhm, sharing uh, this, this isn't like sharing, y'know,
blood, is it?"

"What? No, no, of course not," Angel said, relieved. "I
wouldn't've done that to you."

"I know," Doyle said, relaxing and slipping down to lie
curled in the crook of Angel's arm. "It's just, having sex
with a vampire is kinda new for me. Still kinda strange."

"That's okay," Angel murmured. "I promise I won't do
anything weird without warning you first, all right?" Doyle
chuckled, then grew silent for a minute. Angel reached over
himself to pet Doyle's hair. "What is it?"

"Are we - ?" Doyle sighed. "Look, whatever you want this ta
be, is okay with me, you got ta know that, straight up. But
I need ta know, is this something you want to go on with?
Or is this a one-off for you?"

Angel turned to look his friend in the eye. "What do you
want it to be?"

"Oh, no, I asked you first," Doyle said, grinning.
"Someone's gotta go first, and this time it's you."

Angel looked at the ceiling. "I don't know that I want you
to move in," he said carefully. "I can't - I can't risk
getting that close, Doyle; do you understand? But I - I
don't want to never do this with you again. This is - this
is too precious to lose."

"I understand," Doyle said softly, and Angel felt that he
really did; the admission had been hard for him, and he was
glad Doyle had appreciated that.

He looked at him again. "You?"

"I'm not planning on taking up residence in your bed,"
Doyle said dryly. "But it'd be nice to know I was welcome
there, from time to time."

"You are," Angel assured him. "Most welcome, anytime."

Doyle smiled against his shoulder. They lay together,
comfortably silent, until Agnel felt the warmth of Doyle's
body being drawn away by the air and by his own body
cooling rapidly back to normal. He sat up and dragged a
soft blue afghan off a chair and arranged it over his
partner, tucking it carefully behind Doyle's back. Doyle
looked at him with humor in his eyes. "You're getting
cold," Angel said defensively. "I can't keep you warm."

"S'okay," Doyle murmured. Angel lay down again, this time
laying his cheek on Doyle's shoulder. The younger man
wrapped his other arm and part of the afghan around him,
and after a minute, Doyle was fast asleep. Angel lay curled
against him for a long time, his eyes closed, listening to
the sounds of life, basking in the shared warmth of living
flesh. Finally, Angel rose, to turn off the lights in the
living room. He downed another bag of cold blood and stood
in the entrance to his kitchen, lapping at the last drops,
trying to decide if he should sleep on the couch, or move
Doyle to the couch... at last he gave up, and leaving the
light on the stove on for a night-light for his visitors,
went back to lie down on the floor, under the blue afghan
beside his peacefully sleeping lover.

~~

Very early in the morning, Cordelia got up and wandered out
for a drink of water. She found them still lying tangled
together on the floor, covered with the afghan. Doyle had
grabbed a sofa cushion for a pillow; Angel's head was
pillowed on Doyle. The sleeping half-demon would never know
that she saw, but Angel woke and watched her move with
yellow eyes that gleamed in the room's darkness like a
cats' eyes. Unafraid, she smiled at him from the kitchen,
finished her drink and went back to bed without a word.
Angel lay his head down again on Doyle's stomach, and went
quietly back to sleep.


<the end>
<for now>