I own nothin'. Joss Whedon's creations just happen to be able to be manipulated by me.

Doyle had never considered it wrong that he loved a man. He was a demon for fuck's sake. There was no greater sin. The hardest part, however, had been telling Angel. Sure, Angel knew he was gay, and he accepted that very well. So well, in fact, he jokingly took him to a gay bar on a day off. Doyle just had no courage at all to tell Angel who exactly he was totally in love with.

He was bound to know because Doyle had been acting lovesick for weeks now. Ever since the Powers decided Doyle would always need to be with Angel, to help him, to protect him, to love him. Yeah, they had sent Allen Francis Doyle back to keep Angel happy. Somehow they'd removed the happiness clause from Angel's soul contract. The Powers thought that they deserved happiness they were soon to bring to the other. They also decided Cordelia kept the visions.

One morning, Doyle was hesitating at the top of the stairs, wondering if he should go down when he was surprised by a pair of hands on his hips.

"Are you okay? You're unnaturally quiet, and you don't usually just sit there, thinking." A deep chuckle escaped from a pair of lips scantly an inch from his ear, causing a prickle to run down his spine. "Actually, Doyle, it's been a while since I've seen you think, well around me anyways." Doyle extricated himself from the grip Angel had on his hips.

"Well, um, ah, see, I don't because… err…." Doyle wracked his brain for an excuse as he looked into Angel's gorgeous face but found himself suddenly at a loss for words. Angel chuckled, "Doyle, I know everything. The powers told me in a dream. Said they told me because you hadn't yet."

Before Doyle had shaken off any shock, Angel had him pressed against a wall, smirking at the face the smaller Irishman had pulled. "Angel-" He began but was cut off by a pair of lips on his. His mind went into overdrive for about two seconds before going blank. 'Shouldn't do this on the stairs---' was the only coherent thought he had, until his brain shut down.

Moaning, Doyle opened his lips when Angel requested, letting him explore his mouth. Angel grabbed his ass and he moaned as he wrapped his long legs around his Angel's waist, rubbing their throbbing manhoods together. Before he realized what was going on, he was thrown onto a soft, comfy bed. 'Ahhhh, vamp speed and strength.' He was then straddled and lost all coherencies at all.

Gunn looked at the ceiling, one eyebrow raised. "Yo, English, ya think Doyle told Angel?" Wesley just shook his head, blushing. "He's way too shy. They Powers told him, apparently." Gunn stared at Wesley, looked away, and muttered something that sounded like "wish they would do that for me".

Wesley looked at Gunn for a moment. He'd always been attracted to the bigger man, and he had no courage to tell him that. Hearing the bangs, thumps, moans and pants from directly above him did something to him though.

Squaring his shoulders, he found he'd made his way to Gunn. Putting his hand on that broad shoulder, he almost chickened out. Almost. Gunn was looking at him curiously, wondering what was happening. But then Wesley reached up and brushed a tentative kiss on his lips.

Wesley smiled as a pair of thickly muscled arms snaked their way around him, lips pressed more securely against his. He had to remember to thank Angel and Doyle.

As they lay in the afterglow, Angel wrapped his arms around his boy. God, Angel loved to be able to call Doyle his. Weeks ago, he thought he wouldn't even have Doyle anymore, and now here he was, curled against his chest, warm, breathing, alive.

Angel attempted to move only to have Doyle's arm snake around his waist. "I have to go. I'm thirsty, ok? I'll come right back, baby." A muffled, 'Promise?' rose from the sheets. "I promise ok?" Angel replied. "Mmmmm…" came the semi-content reply from his new-found lover.

Angel chuckled and got up, his stomach rumbling. Pulling on a pair of boxers, he walked down the stairs. After all, Cordelia didn't work today, just the guys. But surprised he was when he turned a corner into the living room, seeing Wes and Gunn curled up together and the couch, naked. This kept getting better and better.

Gunn let out a gentle snore and he noticed they were asleep. Angel laughed and grabbed a thick comforter from a spare room. It was huge, purple, and fuzzy. Throwing it over the pair, Angel noticed a purpling bruise at the base of the Englishman's throat. He laughed even harder once he got to the kitchen. He liked being bitten… Ironic.

He heated up a bag of blood, gulping it down and took a pair of back stairs that led right to his room. Doyle was sleeping when he got there. Lips slightly swollen and parted, he looked like a real angel, not a masquerading one.

And he was all Angel's.

Gunn looked at Wesley, smiling slightly. Whispering lightly he told Wesley everything, "I've been in love with you since I saw you the first time. You were beautiful, you know, even all black and blue. Still are. I could never really tell you, since you loved Cordy.

Now you're in my arms sleeping off the amazing sex we just had. And you're all mine."

This is my very first oneshot. Tell me what you think. Flames welcomed, except if you are flaming me because this was guy/guy.

Reviewers get the Angel character you so desire.