Working the buttons on his shirt, I glance up and see that he’s still looking bewildered and kind of lost. Where did this come from? He’s so damned responsive when I kiss him, that it still seems strange that he gets so nervous about the more physical things. Or at least I think it’s nerves. I don’t think I smell fear...do I?
The fabric muffles whatever he mutters as I pull the soft t-shirt over his head. Smiling back, I take in the sight of his crooked glass and ruffled hair...and still concerned expression.
Setting his lopsided glasses on the counter behind him isn’t much of a stretch, considering the size of the bathroom. That taken care of, I lift a hand to his face, tenderly brushing his hair back, and stroking his cheek, as my hand moves to settle over my mark for a moment. Mine, my eyes say as I meet his, trying to reassure him
( ... )
My world suddenly turns a bit blurry and it takes me a few seconds to realize that my glasses are off. Ah, Angel took them and put them somewhere. Well, he must’ve, since I didn’t take them off and really, who cares at this point? I do wish that off switch for my brain whirling in the most inconvenient times would work. But other then his kisses, which seem to have the complete opposite effect, nothing seems to. From an over active brain to a dead one in one second flat
( ... )
I hear a little gasp of breath as I toss my shirt to the side. Okay, so when other parts of my anatomy are running things, I'm less of a neat freak, as Cordy likes to say. I can still feel the urge to pick it up, but that disappears immediately with the way Wes eye's are practically groping my chest. I look right back at his
( ... )
My hands falter slightly when I catch him gazing at my chest. See? I knew it, he’s disgusted, but to polite to say anything. Must be the whole ‘I don’t want to hurt you’ thing. Why would he possibly want to stay with me? Or have *anything* with me. Not much to look at, constantly arguing, and not all that great when it comes to the sex considering the ‘issues’ there. What is it that makes him stay around never the less? I don’t understand it one bit. I don’t
( ... )
Help? I don't think he'll need it. He was amazing just now, and all he has to do is repeat that, and I'll be at his mercy any time he wants. I smile at him, tilting his chin so he's looking at me again. "I would help you with anything, anytime. But you just blew my mind, I think you'll be fine. And we don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable." I shouldn't say anything else, I should just let it drop. He seems uncomfortable already. "I just want to be able to give you what you keep giving me
( ... )
He seems… amused that I’d want his help. Not angry or annoyed, or even afraid that I couldn’t handle it. Amused, or something like that. He’s smiling at me, that warm small that makes my insides tingle and my knees turn into goo. I can only nod stupidly when he says he’ll help me if that’s what I want. Need, you naïve boy. You *need* help. Why on earth you think you can keep up with Angel, I’ve no idea. You’re fooling yourself. Of course then my look turns into one of awe when he continues to talk
( ... )
I smile at how he always seems to answer my kisses with a question, as if he gets lost, and his brain can't quite process anything immediately following a kiss. It's intriguing, and I'm wondering if I should test my theory at some point
( ... )
Where the hell did my brain go? I swear, he’s sucking it out everytime he kisses me. There’s only one vampire capable of that. Hell, there’s only *one* vampire I’d allow to do such a thing to me. Slowly licking my lips, I can’t seem to look away from him. I’m drowning again, drinking in the sight of him. His eyes, his face, the look on his face and in his eyes. His face is gone. Wait, where’d he go? Oh, the shower. Right, that was why we were here in the first place.
He may have been gone for all but three seconds, but I missed him. Even if his touch never really left my body. That thought startles me. I’ve never been in a relationship before where I’d actually feel the loss physically if the other, mine wasn’t there. And we’re in the same bloody room still! I’m not sure if that development is a good thing or a bad thing. But I sure as hell have no intention of trying to find that out today
( ... )
"Mm." Feels nice with him wrapped so close around me. His face in my neck is as distracting as it is comforting. My arms circle him, glad as always to have him naked and in my arms. So beautiful. "Don't have to. Might get chilly though," I mumur against his ear. My hands rub absently over his hips and back. I love his skin. “I could threaten to carry you again.” I smile wickedly, teasing him, "Just wrap your legs around me and haul you right out of this shower." I could do it, too and he knows it. My grin slides into a slow smile at the look on his face. I never know what I'm going to get with him.
My mind seems to hit on our earlier conversation with that thought and I'm hearing him say, I’ve no….errr….ex-experience being on the other side. So...he's been tied up before? That seems pretty kinky for Wes. I stroke my fingers along his spine, thinking it over, and wondering if now's the time to bring it up. I kiss his forehead, and look at him again. There's so much I don't know about him, I guess. My own mystery to
( ... )
I’m alternating between nodding, shaking my head and glaring at him. Though it’s hardly worth the glare if ones face is buried in ones lover’s neck. What is this obsession he has when it comes to carrying me? It’s rather amusing actually, whereas it seriously annoyed me yesterday. The image of my legs wrapped around him though makes me shiver and that has *nothing* to do with the cold. If it weren’t for my back, I might’ve actually tried those kinds of acrobatics, just to see the look on his face
( ... )
I instantly regret saying anything when I feel his body try to pull away. I can be the most laconic vampire any other time, but right now I just have to say everything that's on my mind. Why can't I just shut up? But I somehow keep talking, and manage to make him look down, or just anywhere except at me
( ... )
God, now I feel bad for making him feel bad about asking. I don’t want him to think he can’t ask me anything. I want us to be honest and open, and I know this comes with a lot of difficulties on both sides. There may be a time when I wish to know something and he’s the one not feeling very comfortable. But right at this moment, I juts want to get out of the shower, or at lest be less naked. Vulnerable, weak I’ll always be the weak one in this relationship, no matter what I do
( ... )
I know I'm pushing, and I know this isn't what he would ask to do, but I think that Wes might need this as much as I think I might. I'm curious anyway to see what else I can give him. There's so little I feel that he believes is his when he looks at me, or even believes that he can do for me, that I want to try to give him something that no one else has or will ever have of me. My control is how I stay Angel and not Angelus. I came close to just giving it all up, and letting him take over last year, but I won't do that again. And giving that to Wes is the biggest thing I have to give
( ... )
Patiently, I wait for his response, knowing he’ll need some time. I watch him mull over my words and can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking. Does he think I’m nothing but a mere child in his eyes? Does he think I’m not worth the trouble? Or does he think.. I’ve no idea what he’s thinking, but I’m willing to wait and find out. Though, I cannot help but bracing myself against some kind of rejection. Automatism, I suppose. I need to be careful of that and not blurt out things that may hurt him in my automatism
( ... )
Ignoring his neck for now, but seriously appreciating the gesture, I give him a lick along my mark and move away with his breath fluttering over my face
( ... )
Shuddering with the need to stay in control, I keep watching him. Or try to, his hands and lips on my body making that damn near impossible. But when he takes hold of my hand and kisses the palm, my eyes fly open and I look at him. Swallowing hard makes my throat hurt even more as he moves on my wrist. I glance at them. Thin, fragile, blood running so close to the surface. He’d not even have to try hard to break them. Hell, if a normal human can will little effort, he can do it in the blink of an eye. When he sucks on it though, I gasp out loud, looking at him with a mixture of shock and trust at the same time.
When he takes hold of my other wrist, I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I’m sure he can hear it too. A slight case of panic rises through me and I keep telling myself I can do this. Whatever he wants, I’ll give it to him. Without hesitation, or at least not much. His hands tighten their grip and my heart hammers louder, stomach fluttering as I push down the fear trying to come to the fore. Automatism. Breathing in
( ... )
Comments 47
The fabric muffles whatever he mutters as I pull the soft t-shirt over his head. Smiling back, I take in the sight of his crooked glass and ruffled hair...and still concerned expression.
Setting his lopsided glasses on the counter behind him isn’t much of a stretch, considering the size of the bathroom. That taken care of, I lift a hand to his face, tenderly brushing his hair back, and stroking his cheek, as my hand moves to settle over my mark for a moment. Mine, my eyes say as I meet his, trying to reassure him ( ... )
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He may have been gone for all but three seconds, but I missed him. Even if his touch never really left my body. That thought startles me. I’ve never been in a relationship before where I’d actually feel the loss physically if the other, mine wasn’t there. And we’re in the same bloody room still! I’m not sure if that development is a good thing or a bad thing. But I sure as hell have no intention of trying to find that out today ( ... )
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My mind seems to hit on our earlier conversation with that thought and I'm hearing him say, I’ve no….errr….ex-experience being on the other side. So...he's been tied up before? That seems pretty kinky for Wes. I stroke my fingers along his spine, thinking it over, and wondering if now's the time to bring it up. I kiss his forehead, and look at him again. There's so much I don't know about him, I guess. My own mystery to ( ... )
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When he takes hold of my other wrist, I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I’m sure he can hear it too. A slight case of panic rises through me and I keep telling myself I can do this. Whatever he wants, I’ll give it to him. Without hesitation, or at least not much. His hands tighten their grip and my heart hammers louder, stomach fluttering as I push down the fear trying to come to the fore. Automatism. Breathing in ( ... )
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