Author's Note: There are few pairings that mean as much to me personally as Doyle and Cordelia do. I used to write them a lot when I was young and very new to fanfic, so they were, in a sense, formative. Most of my work for them is handwritten, and therefore not published, but given that it's incredibly raw (I wrote these two when I was around 17 years old, and still learning) I'm rather glad for that. Revisiting them was inevitable, and I fully intend to explore them more in the future because writing this made my heart soar. I will forever love this ship, and I hope that shines through the writing.
You Set My Soul at Ease
"I hope you realize just how foolish that was, Allen Francis Doyle!" Cordelia Chase frowned at the half-demon, who was currently stuck in his Brachen form and resting his head on her lap.
For his part, Doyle had the decency to look guilty. He moved slightly, only to immediately regret it as searing pain coursed through what seemed like every nerve ending his body possessed. "Duly noted, Princess." He grimaced and tried to get relatively comfortable.
Cordelia couldn't help cracking a fond smile due to his affectionate pet name for her, and ran her fingers as gently as she could through his jet black hair, carefully avoiding the spines that protruded from his forehead. "Well don't go trying anything like that again, you hear me?"
"Loud and clear," he replied, gazing up at her.
She swallowed at seeing the adoration in his crimson eyes, and oddly: found that she missed the brilliant shade of blue that they typically were. To say that it had been a confusing night was putting it mildly. In the span of a few hours she had learned: Doyle was actually half demon; called him out on said fact, then demanded that he finally ask her out; been kissed in a manner that still left her head spinning; and finally, nearly had lost him.
That was, frankly, quite a bit to process.
Ever observant, Doyle reached up to trace along her chin despite the discomfort it caused him before imploring: "Hey... look at me, Delia."
She did, and her heart clenched when he phased back into his human visage. Splotches of raw, burned off skin marred his handsome features. "Oh Doyle..."
"I'm not going anywhere. I promise you." Those beautiful eyes bore into hers.
Slowly, Cordelia nodded.
Doyle smiled and tugged her forward, his lips meeting hers in a soft, sweet kiss that made her stomach swirl with butterflies.
The tender moment was interrupted by the sound of a throat being cleared, which reminded the couple that they were not - in fact - alone.
They looked up in unison to notice Angel peering at them via the review mirror of the car he was driving. "As cute as you two are, maybe save that for when you're at Cordy's apartment?"
The mention of their destination was enough to shock Doyle back into his demon form. "Wait? Delia's apartment?!"
"Why my place?" Cordelia added.
"Because you shouldn't be alone tonight, Doyle, not while you need to heal. Cordy can keep an eye on you." Angel elaborated, hiding the smug smirk that was gracing his features. And if it happens to throw the two of you into an enclosed space where you can actually talk and make-out to your heart's content, that's just an added bonus.
The pair in the backseat exchanged a glance.
"If... if you're okay with the idea, Princess, I actually wouldn't mind having some company tonight."
"I don't particularly want to be alone either," she acknowledged quietly, taking his hand in hers, mindful of the damaged skin.
Touched by her consideration, Doyle bobbed his head in agreement and sat up next to her, keeping their hands clasped together. "Looks like we have a plan then. Angel, if you wouldn't mind stopping at my place along the way; I need to pick up a few things."
"Your favorite beer?" Cordelia quipped, sliding closer and resting her head against his shoulder.
The Irishman chuckled and shook his head. "No, a change of clothes and something to sleep in. Unless you'd prefer I wander around your place naked as the day I was born?"
The tease was worth it as she turned bright red. "You wouldn't dare."
His shoulders quaked with mirth and he ducked a kiss to the top of her head.
The rest of the drive was relatively brief and silent, save for the quick run-in to Doyle's apartment. By the time they reached Cordelia's place, the couple had begun to doze off, not realizing just how tired they were from their ordeal.
After parting ways with Angel, they made the climb up a few flights of stairs to her apartment, and then Doyle waited patiently while his princess fished around in her bag for her keys.
"Are you hungry?" she asked as she opened the door and ushered him inside. "Because I have pizza left over from last night."
"Yeah I could eat," he shrugged out of his leather jacket and hung it on the coat hanger that was in the entry, and then set about removing his shoes.
Cordelia kicked off her tennis shoes as well, and then slipped off the vest she'd worn over her long, white-sleeved top, tossing the garment haphazardly onto the sofa. "Great. Do you prefer it warm or cold?"
"Warm," he followed her as she headed into her kitchen. "Could never really get into eating cold pizza."
She laughed quietly. "Neither could I. Warmed up it is," she opened the refrigerator and pulled out the food, then busied herself with finding a baking sheet. "There's drinks in the fridge if you want," she gestured.
Doyle watched her dotingly for a moment before deciding to investigate what she had in terms of beverages. His eyebrows arched significantly when he was faced with a pleasant surprise, and he took out a familiar-looking can. "Hey, is there a reason why you decided to stock my favorite beer?"
Just finished with preheating the oven, Cordelia paused, a blush crossing her cheeks as she coughed self-consciously. "You'll also notice I have blood for Angel."
"Yeah, but that doesn't change the fact that you went out and got my favorite, especially when you made a crack earlier about me grabbing some from my place," he sauntered over to her, leaning casually against the counter as she put the pizza on the baking sheet and then put it in the oven.
She shut the oven door, set the timer, and turned to face him. "I wanted you to feel comfortable, okay? You and Angel are the closest things I have to family out here, and I figured if either of you ever needed a place to crash, I should be prepared."
"Delia," he closed the distance between them, cupped her chin and shifted back to his human guise. "That's incredibly kind."
"You don't need to do that on my account. I know you need to heal," she objected, nevertheless leaning into his touch.
"I'll likely shift back in my sleep. I can't exactly control it when my body needs to recuperate from something," he confided, his soft fingers stroking over her cheek tenderly. "But right now, while I can control that side, I'd prefer to spend time with you at least looking human."
"That's sweet," she sighed, letting her eyes flutter closed when he leaned in and touched his forehead to hers.
They stood like that for a few moments, until Doyle took a chance and captured her mouth with his, initiating their third kiss of the evening.
It was unlike either of the others. The first kiss they shared had been passionate, yet meaningful – a goodbye that, as luck would have it, was actually unneeded. Their second was the brief, sweet one they'd indulged in while sitting in the back of the car. This kiss…well it was something else entirely.
Doyle's lips were soft yet insistent against hers, his hands moving up to frame her face as the embrace quickly deepened.
Cordelia moaned softly, opening her mouth under his, allowing his tongue to sweep in and explore. She dug her fingers into his hair so she could tug him closer, squealing in surprise when he abruptly spun and trapped her between the counter and his body.
He nipped and teased at her lips, his fingers working at unbinding her hair from the high ponytail she had put it in, while her hands grasped at the wide collar of his dark red button-down.
Cordelia gasped when Doyle's mouth strayed so he could dart firefly kisses along her jaw, her heart pounding rapidly as she managed to unbutton his shirt, her hands finally delving inside to wander over his chest and stomach, covered only by a thin tank top.
Slowly, so not to startle him too much, she traced over the hem of the tank and then slipped her hands underneath.
He pulled back to gaze at her, breathing heavily. She could barely see the blue of his eyes thanks to his pupils being blown black from arousal, and she privately admitted that the image he created at that moment was very alluring.
"Princess…" he rumbled, tousling her hair so that it fell in silken strands along her shoulders.
"Yes, my Prince?" she teased, which efficiently diffused the tension that they'd ramped up.
Doyle chuckled, relaxing. "As happy as I'd be to continue this…we have food warming up in the oven."
"And the voice of reason strikes," she shook her head, but leaned forward and brushed his mouth with hers again. "Why don't you go and sit while I check on dinner?"
They kissed one more time before separating (albeit reluctantly); Cordelia moved towards the oven, while Doyle searched the cabinets for some plates.
A companionable silence stretched as he set up the table, and grabbed a diet Pepsi for her while they waited for the pizza to be done.
"There's still about ten minutes to go," Cordelia announced as she sat in the chair opposite of Doyle, who was nursing his beer slowly.
He slid the soda over to her, smiling around the rim of the can.
Smiling back, Cordelia popped open the tab and took a sip, exhaling and reclining back into her chair. "What a night."
"The kind I would prefer not to repeat. At least the part where I almost die saving everyone."
"Yes, we definitely want to avoid that part," she emphasized, her tone lower than before as a wave of melancholy struck her.
His hand folded over hers. "Whatever it is you need to say, love, it's best to get it out now."
She took a deep breath and then looked directly into his eyes. "Look, I get the whole noble sacrifice thing, but…did it even occur to you how it would affect me and Angel?"
"Cord' you don't think I actually wanted to die, did you? Not when…" it was his turn to inhale shakily before he continued. "Not when I'd fallen madly in love with you?"
The world spun. Or at least, the kitchen did. Cordelia blinked rapidly. "Wait, what?"
"I love you, Cordelia Chase. The last thing I wanted was to leave you, but I also knew that Angel: he's the real deal in the hero department. If it came down to him or me; the world needs him."
"Well the world may need Angel, but I need you, Allen Doyle. Because guess what? I'm in love with you too."
They stared each other down for another long moment until: in a swift movement, Doyle pulled Cordelia directly onto his lap.
Whatever exclamation she could have made about the unexpected action was swallowed by his kiss, and then everything else seemed to melt away as they embraced fervently.
He growled from deep in his chest, grabbing at her waist and tugging her as close as possible.
She shivered, and not from the slight chill brought on by the air-conditioning in her apartment, her hands once again exploring under his tank top: stroking over a flat, toned stomach and chest and reveling in the warmth of his skin.
"Cordelia…" her name was a reverent whisper as he responded in kind; his clever fingers delving under her shirt to caress over her stomach, inching further and further up –
Beep beep beep beep
With a frustrated sound, Cordelia tugged away. "Food or you? Decisions, decisions."
"You can have all of me later," he beamed, waggling his eyebrows playfully.
"Spell effectively broken, food it is," she rolled her eyes and got off his lap, a smirk crossing her lips when she noticed that he had to resituate.
Eventually, they were full from their meal, which had been spent mainly mock-arguing over whether or not it counted as their first date.
They let it go at a draw, and Doyle offered to do the cleanup while Cordelia went off to do her nightly routine: a.k.a. washing her face, brushing her teeth and putting on her PJs.
When she was finished, she leaned against her doorframe and watched as he finished drying the dishes. The sight of him doing something so domestic and normal warmed her heart and she padded over to him on bare feet, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her chest against his back before kissing his neck. "Thank you."
"What for?" he wiped his hands off with the towel and turned around in her arms.
"For staying."
His eyes widened comically once he got a good look at her in the purple silk nighty she had chosen to wear. "Christ, Cordy are you trying to give me a heart attack?!"
"No, just incentive," she grinned. "After all, you promised that I could have all of you later."
"I was half-joking," he muttered, nevertheless catching her mouth with his.
"Ah-ah. You offered. I'm collecting," she intoned between kisses, pulling him back towards her bedroom.
He responded with something she couldn't quite decipher, and then hoisted her up in his arms so he could carry her the rest of the way.
"You're stronger thanks to that demon-side, aren't you?" she draped her arms over his shoulders.
"Among other things," he admitted.
"Hmm, I like the sound of that," she nipped at his ear, prompting him to curse softly when he nearly dropped her.
Somehow they made it to the bedroom without crashing into anything (a feat in and of itself), and Doyle kicked the door shut with his foot, ensuring their privacy.
He set her back on her feet, his eyes raking slowly and deliberately over the sight of her in her negligee, drinking every inch of her in. "You look so beautiful," he reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair back over her ear.
Cordelia's heart skipped erratically at both his words and the action, and she wound her arms around his neck, pulling him in close for a soft kiss.
He responded eagerly, drawing her up against him as her attentions grew heated: her hands sliding the burgundy, button-down shirt he still wore down his arms before yanking persistently at the tank underneath.
Doyle broke the kiss, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "What's the hurry, Princess?"
Cordelia's cheeks flushed as she realized that maybe she'd been a little too pushy. "Sorry, um…honestly? The almost dying thing is still messing with me a little, so I guess I feel like if I don't take the chance to be with you, I'll lose it," her eyes darted away from his before she explained: "Also, I don't have much experience with this. I mean: I'm not a virgin, but…"
"You haven't had someone make love to you," he finished.
She nodded, ducking her head. It was a far cry from her normally confident attitude, but for some reason: around Doyle, her vulnerabilities came crashing to the surface.
Long, elegant fingers curled under her chin, tilting upwards until she found herself lost in the intensity of his sea-colored gaze. "There's a lot to be said for taking our time, Delia. And I get it: I don't want our chances passing us by either, but I promise you: it'll be worth it."
Again, she bobbed her head, chewing at her lower lip nervously.
A genuinely sweet smile crossed Doyle's lips before he leaned in and initiated another kiss: one that was tender and full of affection.
Sighing against his mouth, Cordelia touched her hands to his chest, toying with the dark hair that peeked above the collar of his undershirt as he gently teased at her lips with his own.
She ran her fingers down, smoothing over the thin fabric in order to feel the leanly muscled planes of his chest beneath.
Doyle nipped ardently at her mouth, his tongue tracing the outline of her lips, begging entry that she willingly gave while her hands continued their trek.
Cordelia traced over her lover's stomach for a few moments before tugging the dark gray fabric slowly up.
He moved back briefly, lifting his arms in assistance so she could whisk the garment over his head.
Now it was her turn to admire and she wasn't about to waste it. Her gaze roamed slowly over his broad shoulders and chest, then down along his abdomen.
Doyle's pale skin seemed to glow in the moonlight filtering in through the window by her bed, and the contrast against his dark hair and sparkling blue eyes only made him more attractive.
Cordelia took a small step forward, placing her hands on his chest so she could drag her nails through the dark hair that dusted it. She caught his eyes with hers again, and her breath hitched at seeing just how much desire swum in those depths.
He suddenly yanked her into his arms, capturing her mouth in a fervent kiss while spinning in order to back her towards the bed.
"May I?" he began to draw her nightgown upward, but waited for her consent before lifting it away from her body.
She whimpered when he ducked his head to bite her shoulder lightly, and tumbled back on the bed: taking him with her.
Delighted laughter filled the air as they struggled with their remaining clothes – until finally it was skin against skin and Cordelia found herself pinned under his welcome weight.
She wondered just how many times she could get lost in his eyes. No one looked at her the way Doyle did; the love reflected back at her was open and genuine, often making her question what she had done to deserve it.
Despite everything she had put him through in the past several months, despite how unnecessarily cruel she had been at times: Doyle lit up each time he saw her. Hell, he'd practically worshipped the ground she walked upon, and she mentally cursed nearly waiting till it was too late to reciprocate.
She could see it now: those hidden depths of his had eventually risen to the surface, and she'd fallen – perhaps farther than she ever thought she could.
Tilting his head curiously, Doyle brought her back to the present with a loving caress over her cheek. "Hey. You look lost in thought…"
"I was, a little," she divulged, stroking over his bicep and noticing for the first time that he had a tattoo on his upper arm. "What's this mean?"
He glanced at the marking. "It's Gaelic. Means Ireland Forever."
"And the harp?" she gestured.
"National symbol," he shrugged. "Wasn't terribly original, I admit."
"I like it," she turned slightly so she could kiss the design.
His dimples flashed as he smiled, nuzzling at her hair and suggesting: "I should take you someday. It's quite beautiful."
Cordelia reclined into the pillows. "A vacation huh? Sounds incredibly promising, if only our boss would actually give us time off."
Doyle chuckled and settled his body against hers. "I'll just have to convince him, then."
"Something you're remarkably skilled at," she responded, tracing invisible figures over his chest.
"How so?"
"You convinced me to look beyond your fashion-challenged exterior, didn't you?"
He laughed and buried his head in the crook of her neck as mirth took over. "I did that, eh?" His voice was muffled against her skin but she could hear amusement in his tone.
Cordelia huffed and raked her hands through his hair. "Please. You couldn't have been more obvious if you'd had "Date me Cordy" stamped across your forehead."
Her comment only resulted in more laughter, and an equally amused smile crossed over her face as she continued to weave her fingers through the soft, slightly wavy dark strands.
They remained like that for a bit, until he managed to compose himself enough to look at her: those eyes of his twinkling merrily. "At least I finally got the half-demon bit out on the table, right?"
"After the beans already got spilled," she arched an eyebrow.
"Hey! At least I didn't deny it!" he sputtered.
She considered him for a long moment. She knew that his demon bloodline was a touchy issue, but she had also witnessed just how strong it made him. The wounds that had been outright horrifying after his noble actions were down to little more than small marks by this point, and she could tell that was because, even when he looked human, his Brachen blood was busy at work helping him heal.
Reaching up, she let her fingers travel over a lesion on his cheek. "Allen…would you do me a favor?"
His eyebrows shot upwards at the use of his first name. "What's the favor?"
"Shift. I want to see your demon face."
He gaped at her. "Wait…you want me to go Brachen? Now?"
"Indulge me, little Irish man. I'm curious about something."
He groused that he wasn't that short, but did as she requested: his features morphing into green-skinned, red-eyed, spiky Brachen ones.
The change wasn't that alarming after witnessing it a few times, and she observed that in the moonlight, the color tone of his flesh was closer to emerald. His eyes also seemed more or less crimson, but the deep affection shown there was no less beautiful than when they were blue.
Cordelia tentatively ran her fingers over the spikes on his forehead, expecting them to be sharp. When she discovered that they weren't, her gaze widened. "I thought these would cut me."
"One of the few things Brachen can control is what the spikes are used for," Doyle stated, watching in fascination as she continued to explore his face with her hands. "When we're in battle, they can sharpen to harm an enemy, but right now: I can't hurt you. I wouldn't want to, anyway."
She nodded, her eyes bright and curious as she touched him far more eagerly.
A contented sound emerged from her lover and he let his eyes close as he reveled in the moment.
"You know…I think I am learning," she finally uttered, prompting him to open his eyes again.
"Learning what?"
"To love this face. You said, before you jumped, "Too bad we'll never know if this is a face you could learn to love". Well…I'm already getting there." And, to prove it, she stretched upwards to kiss him.
It was a cautious kiss as Cordelia had to be mindful of his spikes, but the message was loud and clear.
She accepted him: inhuman side and all, and judging by the gentle, grateful manner that he kissed her back: he understood her perfectly.
She felt his features shift back to human under her hands, their embrace deepening as emotions took control.
He entwined his fingers with hers, trapping her hands against the pillow as his mouth strayed and gained purchase on her neck.
She arced her head back, granting him better access to the sensitive skin, murmuring his name breathlessly as he pressed kiss after kiss along the column of her throat.
There definitely was something to be said for taking their time with this. Cordelia had never been with anyone quite as attentive as Doyle. Every kiss and touch he bestowed was marked with devotion and she very quickly found herself drowning in it, in him, as they sank into the bed together.
His mouth lingered along her collarbone, then drifted lower, pausing to grant particular attention to her breasts before continuing further.
She inhaled sharply when he kissed along her navel, where she was rather ticklish. He noticed immediately, grinned wickedly and then his tongue decided to get clever and she erupted into laughter. "Doyle!"
He looked up at her, eyes bright. "Couldn't resist, love."
She laughed and rubbed at her temple. "I'll get you back for that later. Continue." She gestured grandly, causing him to happily obey.
He dropped another kiss to her hipbone, and then spent some time lavishing affection on her inner thigh.
She yelped when he unexpectedly nipped at the tender skin there, but then his mouth was occupied elsewhere and she melted under his ministrations.
Soon enough: she was writhing and gasping, convinced that he was doing was some kind of magic because there was no way that this was ordinary foreplay.
Either that or Brachen demons just happened to be exceptionally skilled at it.
A strangled moan emerged as she fell apart, collapsing back on the mattress and panting harshly.
Doyle slowly moved back up her body, kissing right under her ribcage, then over her heart, until at last he nuzzled against her neck.
Once she was able to breathe somewhat normally, Cordelia carded her fingers lazily through his hair. "You know if you had just told me from the get-go how good you are at this? I would have ignored those horrible clothes in favor for tearing them off and getting down to business right there in the office."
"You sure know how to bolster a guy's ego, Princess," he resituated so he could look down at her. "And admittedly the look on Angel's face would have been priceless if that had been the case."
Giggling, she touched her lips to his, kissing him slowly and twisting so she could maneuver him onto his back.
He growled playfully into her mouth when she straddled him, "Is this your payback then?"
"Oh you bet," she smirked, settling back and admiring the sexy image he made with his hair hopelessly tousled.
His hands came to rest on her hips while she leaned down, brushing her mouth along the curve of his jaw, then his throat, lingering over his Adam's Apple before continuing her trek.
Smiling against his skin, she followed his example and took the time to worship every inch of his body, and it was not long before he was entirely, willingly at her mercy.
When Doyle recovered from the onslaught of Cordelia's passion: the tables quickly turned.
She found herself rolled under him, her half-demon lover stealing an intoxicating kiss as his fingers trailed up her thigh.
He drew her as close as possible, their embrace deepening while she arched her hips in an invitation that he wasted no further time in taking.
Once they were joined: the couple stilled, adjusting to the sensation and aware of their hearts beating in tandem.
Cordelia locked her legs around Doyle's waist when they began to move, gaining symmetry almost instantly.
It felt so natural, being with him that way and fitting together perfectly.
She grasped at his shoulder blades as their motions gradually lost grace, crying out when he adjusted his angle and buried deeper.
He rested his forehead against hers, blue eyes capturing dark brown, every inch of them touching by that point as their pleasure built and built.
They held onto each other tightly when waves of release finally hit, their shared cries echoing in the small room as bliss took hold and they eventually collapsed: sated but exhausted, into the blankets.
"Please tell me that we're going to do that again. Many, many times," Cordelia implored.
"Oh we will…just give me some time to recuperate," Doyle promised, breathing just as heavily and dropping a kiss to her clavicle, in no state to move off of her.
She kissed the top of his head, content to lie there and just exist for a while.
The next morning…
Cordelia was lulled out of a sound, deep slumber by sunlight washing over her side of the bed.
Squinting her still closed eyes, she groaned and twisted around to bury her head into the pillow, stretching out her arm to drape it over Doyle's chest only to feel warm, yet empty sheets beneath her fingers.
Her head shot up, and she looked around wildly. "Doyle?!"
In answer, he peeked around the bathroom door. "I'll be out in a minute, Princess."
She relaxed significantly, and noticed that his hair was damp. "Did you take a shower?"
"Yeah. Don't worry, I left you plenty of hot water," he teased. "What, did you think I just got up and left?"
She bit her lower lip. "There might have been a moment of panic there."
His gaze grew concerned. "I'll be there in a few, I promise."
She nodded, and he ducked back inside.
Gathering the sheets around her like a makeshift dress, Cordelia reclined back, her mind wandering back to the events of the previous evening.
Doyle had been true to his word: they made love multiple times and it had been around 3 A.M. when they finally stopped to get some sleep.
She smiled goofily. Her half-demon had proven an incredibly skilled lover, and she had grown quite addicted in the process.
She contemplated getting up and joining him in the bathroom – maybe even convincing him to take a second shower with her – when he emerged from said room.
Her heart went wild in her chest. He hadn't bothered to dress: one towel slung over his hips while he used another to rub at his hair.
He looked up to see her staring at him. "What?"
"Wow. You are officially banned from wearing clothes."
His skin was still damp, and the morning light did as many wonders as the moonlight had done the night before. She raked her gaze deliberately along his leanly muscled form, biting at her lip again when she realized just how damn sexy he looked with tousled hair. "Yes. Officially banned."
"That will be a problem when I have to go into the office, you know."
"I'll amend it to you being banned from wearing clothes while you're here if you let me take you shopping for better ones," she rose from the bed and walked over to him.
He quirked an eyebrow, but happily let her draw him into her arms. "You've been determined to give me a makeover since the night we met, haven't you?"
She grinned and coaxed him into a kiss. "Absolutely."
"One condition: no leather pants. Jackets are fine," he mumbled as the embrace escalated.
Cordelia smirked and guided him back to their bed. "You have yourself a deal."
Judging by the way Doyle responded: he was perfectly okay with the idea.
The End