Trust is a Funny Thing, Chapter Four
Author: Red, aka redscorner or bangelsoullove
Title: Trust is a Funny Thing
Chapter: 4/?
Rating: This chapter is NC-17 for smut. Smutty smut smut.
Warnings: In case you missed it, there's sexual content in this chapter.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I've run out of funny things to say. They're not mine, I'm not Joss, I'm not that evil.
Author's Note: This starts immediately after The Girl in Question. It always bothered me how they jumped from that straight into Power Play. I also wanted to write a fic that really dealt with the whole "Does Buffy really not trust Angel or are Andrew and Giles lying poopieheads?" issue, as well as work through some other stuff for our star crossed lovers. So, here we go. This will either suck beyond the telling of it, or be decent. :)
Feedback?: Is good, mmmmkay?
If you're just tuning in, you might want to check out the first three chapters here, here and here.
Once again, I bow down momentofbored for the last-minute beta.
As promised, he was there to meet her after class. Dinner, however, was not the plan. “Nina,” he greeted. Show time.
“Angel, hey,” she responded, giving him a quick hug and kiss. “Everything okay?”
“Can we sit down?” he asked, pointing to the nearby park bench. Because sitting down makes things like this easier.
He waited until they were both seated before handing her an envelope, which she glanced at with interest.
“Plane tickets? I don't believe it. We're getting away? This is... but I thought you didn’t have time to... Oh, wait. There are 3 tickets here. We taking a chaperone?” He didn’t say anything and she looked closer at the names on the tickets. “My sister and Amanda?”
“I need you to be out of here,” he replied, simply. I had to destroy the woman I’ve ached for for five years earlier. Please, let this be simple. Just take the tickets and go.
(I'm not going to say good-bye. If we get through this… I'm just going to go.)
“That's typical. You sleep with a guy and he sends your entire family out of the country. No, wait, that's actually not that typical at all. You couldn't just not call?”
“It's not safe here.” I do love your wit. I wish things could have been different for us.
“Is it ever? I want to be with you if there's trouble.”
“You don't want to be with me. You don't want to be near me.” Especially not if you knew the truth of the whole situation.
“Because I might get hurt?”
“'Because I'm the thing that'll hurt you.” More than I already have.
“What do you call this?”
“How can I convince you that I want to be with you?” This isn’t going the way it should. Nothing ever goes the way it should, especially when you throw Buffy into the mix.
“Show me a fourth ticket.”
“Okay. If I get through this, intact, I'll come for you. We'll...have time…” he trailed off lamely. But I won’t be getting through this. I don’t want to.
She laughed bitterly. “You're the most amazing man I've ever met, but you're a crappy liar.”
He mentally steeled himself. “Go. I'm not asking.” Is there an Olympic medal category for destroying women? ‘Cause, I’m just on a roll today.
“I'll go. Why on Earth would I stay?”
************************************************************************
She was exhausted, physically and emotionally. She felt like it had been years since she’d been this tied up in knots. Not since the horrific aftermath of her seventeenth birthday had she felt so at odds about what was going on around her.
(It's what? Bells ringing, fireworks, a dulcet choir of pretty little birdies? Come on, Buffy. It's not like I've never been there before.)
Her mind was screaming at her to just go, to get on whatever plane she could to get her as far away from this accursed place as possible. But her heart was railing at her to stay, to figure out what was causing Angel’s manic swings in behavior.
After she’d managed to calm down somewhat, she and Spike had spent most of the afternoon talking. She’d missed him, missed the friendship they’d managed to build during those final days in Sunnydale, before her battle with the First had destroyed the Hellmouth and the town sitting on top of it. He’d filled her in on his sudden reincarnation, the work Angel was doing and how worried he really was about his Grandsire.
She walked aimlessly in the cool night air, pondering Spike’s descriptions of Angel’s recent behavior. Between that and her own encounter, she’d almost believe Angelus was back, but his desperation in asking why she no longer trusted him was pure soul. Nothing about any of this was making any sense.
“The hell with this,” she muttered. “He can be a grade A bastard all he wants, but I want answers.” She squared her shoulders, her destination firm in her mind.
When she arrived at his lofty apartment, she knocked briskly on the door. Almost immediately, it swung open to reveal Angel standing there, glowering at her. Standing there with no shirt on and very obviously inebriated. She licked lips that had suddenly gone dry.
“Angel,” she started, only to have her words cut off when he yanked her into his arms and she suddenly found herself being kissed.
It had been ages since she’d been kissed like this. Thoroughly, possessively. In fact, the last time was when they’d seen each other before her apocalypse. We really need to find new reasons for kissing. She stifled a hysterical giggle at the thought.
The kiss, which had started angry and with the intent to hurt, had gentled and Angel’s hands were suddenly everywhere. Threading through her hair, cupping her bottom, kneading her breasts. Liquid fire was spreading through her like wildfire and she desperately struggled for the control to pull back.
“Angel,” she finally said with a gasp. “We can’t.”
He was nipping along her jaw, down her neck to his scar. “We can,” he murmured.
“Your soul…”
“Is safe.”
“How?”
He raised his head then, cupping her cheek and stared deeply into her passion-glazed eyes. “I’m starting something I can’t possibly hope to finish. Everyone I care about is in danger, everyone I touch is as good as dead. I’ve given up the last hold on my dream of you and I, wrinkled and gray and in each others arms every night. My soul is safe, there’s no way I could be perfectly happy right now.”
“Angel…” she broke off on a moan is he licked the scar on her neck. Nothing he was saying made any sense to her and the things he was doing to her, making her feel, were making her head spin completely off its axis.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” he rasped.
She threaded her hand through his hair and gently pulled his head back to look in his eyes. He wasn’t sure what she was searching for, so he stayed silent, meeting her gaze. Whatever she saw there must have satisfied her, for she finally nodded, twining her arms around his neck. “I trust you,” she whispered.
Her words struck him like a sucker punch to the gut and he realized in some distant edge of his mind how much he’d needed to hear that. With a muffled groan, he picked her up and carried her to his room, depositing her on his massive bed. His mouth began mauling hers again as his hands worked quickly to divest them of their clothing. It seemed less than a heartbeat had passed and he was suddenly lying on top of her, their skin scorching every place it made contact.
He wound one of his large hands through her hair as his mouth kissed its way down her neck to nuzzle the valley between her breasts, the other hand lazily trailing down to her thighs. One finger penetrated her tight sheath at the same time he took a nipple in his mouth and began to suck. She felt as though she was being struck with pure lightning and wanted desperately to catch hold of it, but he wouldn’t let her. His hands and mouth were demanding, rough, and she had no choice but to follow where he wanted to lead.
She tasted like heaven and he couldn’t get enough of it. Crazed, he wished for more hands, another mouth, anything that would allow him to capture more of her. He knew they only had this moment, this night and he was determined it would be enough to sustain him through what was to come.
His hand was still working its magic between her legs, fingers pumping in and out of her while his thumb rubbed her clitoris lazily. Sparks began to fly in her peripheral and they both knew she was on the precipice, her body straining for release.
“Let it happen, baby,” he instructed in her ear on a murmur, his tongue snaking out to lick her jaw.
“Angel,” she cried, her head thrashing wildly on his pillow.
“I know, I know. It’s okay, I’m right here. Just feel it, baby. Let me see you come.” His words were nonsense to her, but his voice sent more shivers coursing through her.
And then, it was on her. With a gasp, her body arched up, her nails digging into his shoulders and she was chanting his name in a half-sob.
He’d shifted when he felt the first tremors of her release and as she began to float down he lifted her hips. “Look at me,” he demanded hoarsely.
Her eyes flew open to lock with his.
“Whatever happens, know I love you, I’ve always loved you.” With that, he slid inside of her with one powerful thrust. They both groaned at the sensation, she wrapping her legs around his waist, he burying his face in the crook between her neck and shoulder.
After a moment in which he prayed she’d had time to adjust to him, he raised his head, looking her in the eyes. “Buffy,” he breathed. “I…”
She raised a hand to stroke his cheek, smiling when he turned his head to nuzzle her palm. “I know, Angel. Me too.”
His restraint broke and he began to move, taking hard, measured thrusts. He wanted so badly to spill inside of her, but wanted even more for her to reach the pinnacle again. With him. With that in mind, he unwrapped one of her legs from around his waist, gently pushing it up toward her head. She let out a loud moan at the deepened sensation, her own movements becoming less fluid.
In short moments, they were both covered in sweat and breathing hard. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer and dropped his head to rain kisses along her jaw. “I swear, your body was made just for me,” he whispered directly into her ear. “Like someone took a mold of my body and fashioned yours from it.” She hadn’t realized it was possible, but she grew even more aroused at his words. “Being inside you, like this, it’s like being home. Does it feel good to you too, baby?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted, only half aware of what they were saying, swirling closer and closer to that vortex.
He slowly worked one hand between their bodies, finding her clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Buffy. And you’re never as beautiful as you are when I’m buried deep inside you and you’re screaming my name. Do you wanna be beautiful for me, baby? Hmmm?”
She couldn’t respond, her mind wasn’t capable of forming a coherent response. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head to hers for a kiss containing all her love, all the passion she was feeling.
“Jesus,” he moaned when she finally came up for air. He braced his arms on the side of her head, his thrusts more forceful and less measured. “Come for me, Buffy. Now.”
And she did. Just like that, at his command, her entire being exploded into ecstasy. He held on, letting her ride it out for as long as possible before finally joining her with a shout. She was still trembling when he finally came back to himself and he gathered the strength to roll onto his back, taking her with him.
(In two-hundred-forty-three years, I've loved exactly one person.)
No further words passed between the two as they drifted off into the contended sleep of lovers, their bodies tangling perfectly together.
Title: Trust is a Funny Thing
Chapter: 4/?
Rating: This chapter is NC-17 for smut. Smutty smut smut.
Warnings: In case you missed it, there's sexual content in this chapter.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I've run out of funny things to say. They're not mine, I'm not Joss, I'm not that evil.
Author's Note: This starts immediately after The Girl in Question. It always bothered me how they jumped from that straight into Power Play. I also wanted to write a fic that really dealt with the whole "Does Buffy really not trust Angel or are Andrew and Giles lying poopieheads?" issue, as well as work through some other stuff for our star crossed lovers. So, here we go. This will either suck beyond the telling of it, or be decent. :)
Feedback?: Is good, mmmmkay?
If you're just tuning in, you might want to check out the first three chapters here, here and here.
Once again, I bow down momentofbored for the last-minute beta.
As promised, he was there to meet her after class. Dinner, however, was not the plan. “Nina,” he greeted. Show time.
“Angel, hey,” she responded, giving him a quick hug and kiss. “Everything okay?”
“Can we sit down?” he asked, pointing to the nearby park bench. Because sitting down makes things like this easier.
He waited until they were both seated before handing her an envelope, which she glanced at with interest.
“Plane tickets? I don't believe it. We're getting away? This is... but I thought you didn’t have time to... Oh, wait. There are 3 tickets here. We taking a chaperone?” He didn’t say anything and she looked closer at the names on the tickets. “My sister and Amanda?”
“I need you to be out of here,” he replied, simply. I had to destroy the woman I’ve ached for for five years earlier. Please, let this be simple. Just take the tickets and go.
(I'm not going to say good-bye. If we get through this… I'm just going to go.)
“That's typical. You sleep with a guy and he sends your entire family out of the country. No, wait, that's actually not that typical at all. You couldn't just not call?”
“It's not safe here.” I do love your wit. I wish things could have been different for us.
“Is it ever? I want to be with you if there's trouble.”
“You don't want to be with me. You don't want to be near me.” Especially not if you knew the truth of the whole situation.
“Because I might get hurt?”
“'Because I'm the thing that'll hurt you.” More than I already have.
“What do you call this?”
“How can I convince you that I want to be with you?” This isn’t going the way it should. Nothing ever goes the way it should, especially when you throw Buffy into the mix.
“Show me a fourth ticket.”
“Okay. If I get through this, intact, I'll come for you. We'll...have time…” he trailed off lamely. But I won’t be getting through this. I don’t want to.
She laughed bitterly. “You're the most amazing man I've ever met, but you're a crappy liar.”
He mentally steeled himself. “Go. I'm not asking.” Is there an Olympic medal category for destroying women? ‘Cause, I’m just on a roll today.
“I'll go. Why on Earth would I stay?”
************************************************************************
She was exhausted, physically and emotionally. She felt like it had been years since she’d been this tied up in knots. Not since the horrific aftermath of her seventeenth birthday had she felt so at odds about what was going on around her.
(It's what? Bells ringing, fireworks, a dulcet choir of pretty little birdies? Come on, Buffy. It's not like I've never been there before.)
Her mind was screaming at her to just go, to get on whatever plane she could to get her as far away from this accursed place as possible. But her heart was railing at her to stay, to figure out what was causing Angel’s manic swings in behavior.
After she’d managed to calm down somewhat, she and Spike had spent most of the afternoon talking. She’d missed him, missed the friendship they’d managed to build during those final days in Sunnydale, before her battle with the First had destroyed the Hellmouth and the town sitting on top of it. He’d filled her in on his sudden reincarnation, the work Angel was doing and how worried he really was about his Grandsire.
She walked aimlessly in the cool night air, pondering Spike’s descriptions of Angel’s recent behavior. Between that and her own encounter, she’d almost believe Angelus was back, but his desperation in asking why she no longer trusted him was pure soul. Nothing about any of this was making any sense.
“The hell with this,” she muttered. “He can be a grade A bastard all he wants, but I want answers.” She squared her shoulders, her destination firm in her mind.
When she arrived at his lofty apartment, she knocked briskly on the door. Almost immediately, it swung open to reveal Angel standing there, glowering at her. Standing there with no shirt on and very obviously inebriated. She licked lips that had suddenly gone dry.
“Angel,” she started, only to have her words cut off when he yanked her into his arms and she suddenly found herself being kissed.
It had been ages since she’d been kissed like this. Thoroughly, possessively. In fact, the last time was when they’d seen each other before her apocalypse. We really need to find new reasons for kissing. She stifled a hysterical giggle at the thought.
The kiss, which had started angry and with the intent to hurt, had gentled and Angel’s hands were suddenly everywhere. Threading through her hair, cupping her bottom, kneading her breasts. Liquid fire was spreading through her like wildfire and she desperately struggled for the control to pull back.
“Angel,” she finally said with a gasp. “We can’t.”
He was nipping along her jaw, down her neck to his scar. “We can,” he murmured.
“Your soul…”
“Is safe.”
“How?”
He raised his head then, cupping her cheek and stared deeply into her passion-glazed eyes. “I’m starting something I can’t possibly hope to finish. Everyone I care about is in danger, everyone I touch is as good as dead. I’ve given up the last hold on my dream of you and I, wrinkled and gray and in each others arms every night. My soul is safe, there’s no way I could be perfectly happy right now.”
“Angel…” she broke off on a moan is he licked the scar on her neck. Nothing he was saying made any sense to her and the things he was doing to her, making her feel, were making her head spin completely off its axis.
“Tell me to stop and I will,” he rasped.
She threaded her hand through his hair and gently pulled his head back to look in his eyes. He wasn’t sure what she was searching for, so he stayed silent, meeting her gaze. Whatever she saw there must have satisfied her, for she finally nodded, twining her arms around his neck. “I trust you,” she whispered.
Her words struck him like a sucker punch to the gut and he realized in some distant edge of his mind how much he’d needed to hear that. With a muffled groan, he picked her up and carried her to his room, depositing her on his massive bed. His mouth began mauling hers again as his hands worked quickly to divest them of their clothing. It seemed less than a heartbeat had passed and he was suddenly lying on top of her, their skin scorching every place it made contact.
He wound one of his large hands through her hair as his mouth kissed its way down her neck to nuzzle the valley between her breasts, the other hand lazily trailing down to her thighs. One finger penetrated her tight sheath at the same time he took a nipple in his mouth and began to suck. She felt as though she was being struck with pure lightning and wanted desperately to catch hold of it, but he wouldn’t let her. His hands and mouth were demanding, rough, and she had no choice but to follow where he wanted to lead.
She tasted like heaven and he couldn’t get enough of it. Crazed, he wished for more hands, another mouth, anything that would allow him to capture more of her. He knew they only had this moment, this night and he was determined it would be enough to sustain him through what was to come.
His hand was still working its magic between her legs, fingers pumping in and out of her while his thumb rubbed her clitoris lazily. Sparks began to fly in her peripheral and they both knew she was on the precipice, her body straining for release.
“Let it happen, baby,” he instructed in her ear on a murmur, his tongue snaking out to lick her jaw.
“Angel,” she cried, her head thrashing wildly on his pillow.
“I know, I know. It’s okay, I’m right here. Just feel it, baby. Let me see you come.” His words were nonsense to her, but his voice sent more shivers coursing through her.
And then, it was on her. With a gasp, her body arched up, her nails digging into his shoulders and she was chanting his name in a half-sob.
He’d shifted when he felt the first tremors of her release and as she began to float down he lifted her hips. “Look at me,” he demanded hoarsely.
Her eyes flew open to lock with his.
“Whatever happens, know I love you, I’ve always loved you.” With that, he slid inside of her with one powerful thrust. They both groaned at the sensation, she wrapping her legs around his waist, he burying his face in the crook between her neck and shoulder.
After a moment in which he prayed she’d had time to adjust to him, he raised his head, looking her in the eyes. “Buffy,” he breathed. “I…”
She raised a hand to stroke his cheek, smiling when he turned his head to nuzzle her palm. “I know, Angel. Me too.”
His restraint broke and he began to move, taking hard, measured thrusts. He wanted so badly to spill inside of her, but wanted even more for her to reach the pinnacle again. With him. With that in mind, he unwrapped one of her legs from around his waist, gently pushing it up toward her head. She let out a loud moan at the deepened sensation, her own movements becoming less fluid.
In short moments, they were both covered in sweat and breathing hard. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer and dropped his head to rain kisses along her jaw. “I swear, your body was made just for me,” he whispered directly into her ear. “Like someone took a mold of my body and fashioned yours from it.” She hadn’t realized it was possible, but she grew even more aroused at his words. “Being inside you, like this, it’s like being home. Does it feel good to you too, baby?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted, only half aware of what they were saying, swirling closer and closer to that vortex.
He slowly worked one hand between their bodies, finding her clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, Buffy. And you’re never as beautiful as you are when I’m buried deep inside you and you’re screaming my name. Do you wanna be beautiful for me, baby? Hmmm?”
She couldn’t respond, her mind wasn’t capable of forming a coherent response. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head to hers for a kiss containing all her love, all the passion she was feeling.
“Jesus,” he moaned when she finally came up for air. He braced his arms on the side of her head, his thrusts more forceful and less measured. “Come for me, Buffy. Now.”
And she did. Just like that, at his command, her entire being exploded into ecstasy. He held on, letting her ride it out for as long as possible before finally joining her with a shout. She was still trembling when he finally came back to himself and he gathered the strength to roll onto his back, taking her with him.
(In two-hundred-forty-three years, I've loved exactly one person.)
No further words passed between the two as they drifted off into the contended sleep of lovers, their bodies tangling perfectly together.