a/n: set sometime before "Anne" BTVS season 3.
Rating: strong R for sexual situations.
Disclaimer: nope, don't own em. I just play here.
Summary: Buffy dreams of Angel. Sorry, that's all you're getting!
Feedback: this is my first love scene, so please be gentle. I'd love to hear from you!
Enjoy.
I dreamed about him again tonight. Except it wasn't one of those pretty, romantic, oh Angel I love you hold me dreams. To be honest, it was actually kind of embarrassing. I woke up with sleep drool on my pillow and a dampness between my legs I'd only experienced a few other times.
God. I want him so much. Like I've never wanted anything before. And that's saying a lot, really. Oh, I've messed around with boys before. Tyler, and Mark from Hemmery. But they were just that. Boys. Angel's not a boy. Well, technically he's not a man either, but, I digress.
I roll over, wiping a hand across my face. Shuddering slightly, I make my way silently down the hall, and snap the light on in the bathroom, trying not wake up my mom.
A haunting reflection stares back at me. Dark circles, hair mussed, drool tracks on my chin…
Ugh, is there anything more unnactractive than sleep drool?
Desire is one thing. But raging and absolute craving is something else entirely. I know, I feel it in my bones, that I will litereally die if I don't see him at least once a day. Touch him, hold him, feel his arms around mine. Rest my head against his broad chest, splay my fingers in his hair. His own hands caress my back, dipping lower, until they…
Whoa. Okay Buffy, stop this instant. You've never been that far with any guy. What is it about him that's so different?
I feel him. Inside. Even when I can't see him.
I splash cold water over my face, and gasp at the temperature. I've got to calm down. This kind of thinking only leads to…well, more thinking. I could call him. Couldn't I? Maybe he could explain it to me. And does he really feel the same? How can he? I'm just some little blonde girl, and he's 240 years old.
I flick the light switch hard, and it breaks with a snap that you can hear out in the hall. "Oops," I whisper to myself, "don't know my own strength."
Padding silently down the hall, I sigh as I slip back into bed, exhausted. Giles has been keeping me on extra patrol, especially after the stupid Gorch brothers and their kin had been in town. The only good thing about that whole incident was the make out time Angel and I had gotten in the cemetary while hunting those fools.
And a scream almost escapes my lips as the shadow my eyes barely passed over springs to life, leaping onto the bed with me, slapping a hand over my lips.
"Hey, mifffer! Gt offa meh."
He squints at me. "What?" he asks in confusion.
"I said, get off of me," I repeat, pulling his hand away from my mouth. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Uh, visiting?" he replys, a sheepish expression on his face.
"At two in the morning? What makes you think I'd be up?" I cross my arms over my breasts, suddenly aware that I'm cold. Trying to be stoic when your really incredibly beautiful boyfriend suddenly appears in the bed beside isn't exactly easy.
"I know your patterns, Buffy. I also know you're a light sleeper," he says, then backpeddles. "Uh, because, well, you know, you told me."
I cock one eyebrow at him, arms still crossed. "What can I do for you, oh nighttime stalker?"
"Well, you can uncross your arms. And maybe, kiss me?" He asks, his lopsided grin appearing on his face.
"Oh, very well," I act put out, but I'm not. I happily twine my arms around his neck, and meet his lips with my own.
The content of my dream suddenly comes back to me, and I feel that warm tingly feeling in my belly and torso as I try to concentrate on the task at hand.
His lips are so soft. But can be so demanding. He nips at mine first, then applies a little more pressure, and I open my mouth, sighing for him to kiss me Angel. My body tightens in response to his touch, and I run my hand through his hair, and am gratified to hear his own sigh in response. He pulls on my lower lip with his lightly, and kisses the corners of my mouth before placing his hands on my shoulders, leaning in to plant his lips on my forehead. I heave a big sigh, and he leans up against the headboard of my bed. I crawl into his lap, and he wraps his arms around my torso, locking his fingers together below my breasts. That close, I can feel my own heartbeat thundering in my chest, and try not to meet his eyes, knowing if I do he'll see the bald desire there, and what if he doesn't feel it? What if it's just me?
"Buffy?" he whispers in my ear. "What's wrong?"
I guess he can feel how tense I am.
"Nothing," I say, trying to shake off my killer libido and my rising exhaustion. "Giles has me on overtime, so I feel like all I do is patrol. Oh yeah, and fail tests, too. And more importantly, not get enough quality time with you."
He smiles against my shoulder, and I place my hands over his, where they rest on my stomach.
"You failed a test?" he asks gently, and I wonder, did you hear what I just said about you?
"Yeah. No big. History was never my best subject anyway. Isn't there some saying about those who fail it being doomed to relive it?"
He answers, "Those who ignore it are doomed to repeat it. Yes."
I moan, and shake my head. "Great. So not only does my mom already think I'm a freak, I get to present her with a failing grade as well. Terrific."
He turns me to face him, and his hand accidentally grazes my left breast. He jerks away as if burned.
I just stare at him in confusion, all my feelings brought about by my dream alive and kicking again, my eyes wide, and my lips trembling. To make matters worse, I feel that dampness at my core again, and Jesus God, hope he can't feel it through my nightgown. Oh, good lord, let me die now.
His nostrils flare suddenly, which is a really weird reaction, I think, and then he does something even weirder.
"I love you, too," he says, and I am shocked to the center of my soul.
"Wha- what?" I can only stammer as a heated blush rises in my cheeks.
His hand cups my sweaty cheek, and brushes the hair stuck there away. "Of course I feel the same way you do. Christ, Buffy, you think I would spend every night here or patrolling with you if I just thought you needed help? Anyone can help you. I can match you. And we fight like a 'well oiled machine', for lack of a better phrase. Why would you ever doubt me?" He finishes as he tenderly traces my cheekbone and the outline of my lips with one fingertip.
Uh, god. This man can make my body sing with one touch of a fingertip. Imagine what he could do with…
"How did you know? How could you possibly know what I was thinking?" I ask him, shifting around so my butt isn't in direct contact with his leg. Oh my god, why is this so hard? I had been attracted to him from the start, but lately, it's been so intense, it's frightening.
"You were talking in your sleep," he says simply, and leaves it at that.
"Oh. Oh!" I say, that stupid blush making my entire face crimson. What the hell did I say??
"It's okay, Buffy. Don't be so embarrassed. I feel it too. All the time. Everytime I'm around you, I want you. I want to touch you, feel your arms around me, smell your hair, taste you. Patrolling with you can sometimes be the worst form of torture," he spouts suddenly, scrubbing a hand across his face. "And it's getting harder."
I give him big eyes. No boy has ever talked to me like this. No man either. It's very flattering in a twisted sort of way. I bring my own hand to his face, and his eyes close, relishing in the touch.
"Why did you come here tonight?" I ask him, and he answers softly, eyes still closed.
"Because, even when you're not around, I can feel you. I can feel when you're sad, when you're happy, when you're incredibly angry, or when you want me. And before I knew it I was here. And you were talking. In your sleep."
"You can…feel me?" I reply in a small voice.
His eyes open, and he smiles gently at me, his face so full of tenderness and love that I might burst from happiness at the sight of it.
"Yeah. I can. You affect me that much, Buffy. So don't ever think I don't want you. I'm blessed that you feel the same for me," he finishes simply, and I can do nothing but will the hot tears that have started to form back up into my eyes. I have never felt so loved. And I want to show him how much he means to me.
I finish turning to face him, and take his hand in mine. Palm up, I bring it to my lips, and place a kiss on it, where the pulse would be if he had one.
"I love you," I tell him, and his eyes crinkle at the corners, that wonderful grin lighting up his entire face.
I lean in to kiss him, and deliberately place his palm against my breast. I'm so scared I'm shaking, but I know I want this. This is all I've ever wanted since the first time I saw him in that dirty alley.
He looks at me hesitantly, the question in his eyes. "Are you sure?" he asks.
I pull him closer to me. "I've never been surer of anything in my life."
His lips touch mine, slowly. His tongue traces the seam of my lips, and I open for him, my legs straddling his hips on my bed. His lips follow the line of my neck down to my collar bone, and I push my chest against his silk clad torso as his mouth burns a line of wet, sucking kisses along my neck.
He breaks away suddenly, and tugs at the hem of my nightie. I raise my arms over my head, and he pulls the offending piece of clothing over my head. I sit naked in front of him, and he can do nothing but stare, a kind of shell shocked expression on his face.
I start unbuttoning his shirt, and get it open. I push it over his shoulders, and he helps, shrugging out of his coat and shirt in one fluid movement. God, he's so pale he practically glows. It's like he's made of marble.
He lifts his hips off the bed, and kicks his pants off as well, the creaking sound of leather hitting my floor bringing some focus to my brain.
Oh. My. I'm sitting on Angel. My Angel. Naked.
He's like a god. Pale, pale skin, shiny in the moonlight, and his eyes so dark I could drown in them. He pulls me to him, and I lay against his bare chest, my breasts touching him finally, no cloth to impede us. I suck in a breath at the contact, and he screws his eyes shut, tangling his hands in my hair.
"…love you,' he mumbles, and I pull away from his chest, ready to finish this.
I raise up slowly, and he helps me, guiding himself into me. I wince at first, he's larger than I had thought, and it's tight. But he's slow and gentle, and I relax slowly, meeting his gaze as I take all of him in.
Our foreheads meet, and he begins to move slowly.
"oh, my…oh…Angel…" I can barely get out, and he wraps his arms around me, kissing the tops of each of my breasts before bringing his mouth to my own.
He caresses me with his lips and his arms, his hips moving against mine, and I feel that all important wetness making it much easier now. I twine my hands in his hair, and begin to move with him, wanting to match him now, no longer needing to be lead.
There's a strange feeling of cresting rising in me, and my vision begins to get spotty as his hips move faster. My mouth hangs slack, and my head lolls backward, eyes staring at my ceiling but really seeing the stars and moon shining down on us.
"Buffy," he whispers through gritted teeth, and I realize he's holding back, waiting for me. I'm ready to meet him.
We're moving as one now, bodies meeting in rhythm, sweat slick skin sliding together.
He stops suddenly, hand wrapped in my hair, and moans my name. That's all it takes.
The wave crashes over me, and I bite off a scream as I clamp my teeth into his shoulder, a muffled "Angel!" escaping my lips.
His body inside mine spasms, and I feel the coolness of him suddenly within the heat of me. Light and dark. Heat and ice. We are made for each other. I fully believe that now.
Our breathing slows, and I kiss his sweaty brow, making him meet my eyes.
His blinding smile greets me, and he lifts me off him tenderly, and lays on the bed, wrapping his big body around my little one.
"You okay?" he says softly, and I detect a hint of worry there. I nod, not sure if I can trust my voice. I drape my leg over his, and kiss the tip of his nose lightly. I drop my head on his chest, and we lay together, bodies entwined, hearts together, mine beating for the both of us. As one. Together forever. Me and my Angel.
Forever? Isn't that the whole point?
I jolt awake, horns blaring and people screaming at each other in the distance. I roll over and look at the clock. 3 am. I pad silently over to the window, and gaze out on the vista that is Los Feliz, California.
I have the dream every night, and every night it's the same.
I snap the blinds shut, and crawl back to bed.
When will you stop haunting me?
Acathla's stone face fills my mind, and I kiss Angel one last time. Then I kill him.
It's not like it happened that way. But in my mind, that's how I'm gonna remember it. Our one time together. And I killed him then too. His last words had been "I love you."
God only knows I loved him too. I still love him. I'll love him every day. And every night in my dreams I'll see him again.
Maybe one day he won't be there. And on that day I'll know it's time to give up the fight.
Because I'll be dead, too.
Fin.