“Uh yes,” I stammer. “Blood. I ah, h-had some blood in there but it’s gone sta- anyway, I-I need to get you some new.” Lord, I wish I’d stop stammering like some idiot. What is it about him that makes me so nervous at times? The fact that I want things to be perfect? Need them to be perfect if I’m honest here. If they’re not perfect he’ll realize that I’m not what he wants or needs and he’ll be out of here so fast. I don’t think I could… alright, ‘live without him’ would be overly dramatic, but it’s pretty damn close.
Nervously waiting in the bathroom, I watch as he takes off his duster and folds it over the chair. I guess that’s one thing we’ll never have to argue about. He’s a neat freak, as Cordelia likes to say, just as I am. Well, aside from the research, or most people would think. Books all over the place, papers everywhere, but I know where to find things and that’s what’s important. Oh. I’m torn out of my thoughts as Angel’s arms slip around me. Now that *is* nice. Tilting my head, I look at him and the moment I do, our lips meet. My own hands land on his hips as I give myself over to the kiss.
Not that difficult, giving myself over to him when it comes to kissing, or touching. Especially since we’re not in a public place. We’re at my place where the chances of anyone stomping in are next to nill. Now there’s a very good thought. No need to worry about Cordy or Gunn barging in, or Fred needing something. Just Angel and I. Kissing. Though, air would be nice too. When we pull away, I suck in some much needed oxygen into my lungs and blink at him. Yup, brain freeze, it never seems to fail.
It takes me some time to realize he’s saying something, and then some more seconds to figure out *what* he’s said. “Oh,” I say weakly, turning to look at my very small shower booth. Enjoy more then a shower. I’d love too, but I doubt there’s room. “It’s a bit small,” I say softly, a note of apology in my voice. “But uhm…maybe we can get…errr….creative?” Not as though I’d know, I mean all my experience was in the rather large showers at school. Which weren’t very enjoyable.
Blood? He had blood for me? Huh. That's umm, good? I think. I'm about to tell him he doesn't need to get me any but that sounds like a pointless argument waiting to happen. Not being controlling, remember? It would be ridiculous to argue. He's just being thoughtful. He's not trying to suggest that you always need blood, or emphasize that you've got a different diet. Just being thoughtful.
This kiss had better do the trick. I don't want him to be so nervous with me all the time. I like hearing his heartbeat, but I don't like hearing it do that. His mouth meets mine easily, and I'm happy to take advantage of that. His mouth is sweet, and I slide closer without thinking. Seems to distract him a little. Distract him enough that he gets this fuzzy look on his face and doesn't seem to realize a word of what I'd said.
I raise an eyebrow at 'creative'. Oh, I like this part of Wes. The part that always aims to please, and can solve any problem. We don't have to be creative, though. Washing is good. Creative can come later. Or... God, I am useless at not wanting him all the time. I should be locked away, not allowed free reign of temptation.
"Either way, maybe we should start with less clothes, hmm?" I say already steadily working the buttons on my- his shirt open. Letting that drift to the floor, I dip my fingers beneath the t-shirt and start sliding that up over his head, with my hands taking some side trips, of course.
Nervously waiting in the bathroom, I watch as he takes off his duster and folds it over the chair. I guess that’s one thing we’ll never have to argue about. He’s a neat freak, as Cordelia likes to say, just as I am. Well, aside from the research, or most people would think. Books all over the place, papers everywhere, but I know where to find things and that’s what’s important. Oh. I’m torn out of my thoughts as Angel’s arms slip around me. Now that *is* nice. Tilting my head, I look at him and the moment I do, our lips meet. My own hands land on his hips as I give myself over to the kiss.
Not that difficult, giving myself over to him when it comes to kissing, or touching. Especially since we’re not in a public place. We’re at my place where the chances of anyone stomping in are next to nill. Now there’s a very good thought. No need to worry about Cordy or Gunn barging in, or Fred needing something. Just Angel and I. Kissing. Though, air would be nice too. When we pull away, I suck in some much needed oxygen into my lungs and blink at him. Yup, brain freeze, it never seems to fail.
It takes me some time to realize he’s saying something, and then some more seconds to figure out *what* he’s said. “Oh,” I say weakly, turning to look at my very small shower booth. Enjoy more then a shower. I’d love too, but I doubt there’s room. “It’s a bit small,” I say softly, a note of apology in my voice. “But uhm…maybe we can get…errr….creative?” Not as though I’d know, I mean all my experience was in the rather large showers at school. Which weren’t very enjoyable.
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This kiss had better do the trick. I don't want him to be so nervous with me all the time. I like hearing his heartbeat, but I don't like hearing it do that. His mouth meets mine easily, and I'm happy to take advantage of that. His mouth is sweet, and I slide closer without thinking. Seems to distract him a little. Distract him enough that he gets this fuzzy look on his face and doesn't seem to realize a word of what I'd said.
I raise an eyebrow at 'creative'. Oh, I like this part of Wes. The part that always aims to please, and can solve any problem. We don't have to be creative, though. Washing is good. Creative can come later. Or... God, I am useless at not wanting him all the time. I should be locked away, not allowed free reign of temptation.
"Either way, maybe we should start with less clothes, hmm?" I say already steadily working the buttons on my- his shirt open. Letting that drift to the floor, I dip my fingers beneath the t-shirt and start sliding that up over his head, with my hands taking some side trips, of course.
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