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I know, i know - what's the deal? First Lindsey, now Angel. Heh. Can't help it. I was pondering the gypsy curse *'cause of season two Angel and the flashback/dream things with Darla* and this just sort of...hit me.
So - Angel/Buffy, not explicit but het. See what you think. Very short! :)
And don't worry - all sorts of lovely S/X simmering on the stove.
Lying with her in the bed, she smells of blood and sweat and rain. Faintly of some hot-house perfume and more strongly of lust. Dark makeup smudged under her eyes make them look huge and scared, but her hands on his back pull him close.
Her mouth has no fear - her mouth finds his, and his jaw, and his throat. Hesitates for a moment when no pulse beats against her questing tongue but then he's tasting the sweetness of her collar-bone, soap and her skin under his own tongue and her hesitation is gone.
Heat and rainwater and the lingering taint of the fight - decaying endorphins that make her taste of burnt sugar and citrus. Her hands are strong - her legs willowy and steely and open. Close clasp of muscle and bone drawing him further - drawing him in.
He looks down at her - studies her face. Her cheeks are still rounded like a child's - her hair wisping across her forehead where it's dried a bit. Mellow gold that makes him think for one moment of Darla and the pang that goes through him is bittersweet and hollow.
Instead he looks into her eyes. He is not there - not in the usual way. No reflection in those mirrors to the soul. But he is there. Like a light shining out of her as her lips part and her breath flutters, warm and coffee-mellow against his cheek. As the words tumble out, breathless catch and hitch as he moves - pushes - breaks the seal that made her sacred.
Now she's a different sort of holy - now she's the confessor who is taking his sin into her and transmuting it - changing it. Forgiveness and absolution in the press of thighs to his ribs - in the broken cry as he moves deeper - a little harder.
And at that moment - he sees it. Sees it all. Sees his future in her eyes as clearly as he feels it in the still, cold hollow of his chest. He will fight beside this gilded child and he will win. Win the battle...win redemption. He will be her strong right arm and the evils of the world will fall before them and one day - one day...
One day the light that shines from her will shine from him and he will be - reborn. Pure happiness - pure joy - makes him lift his head and cry her name - clutch her so fiercely that a normal girl would be broken.
But she isn't normal - isn't broken. She's strong and perfect and his, and he pulls her close and closes his eyes - buries his face in the silken web of her hair. She loves him - she trusts him. She - believes. And it's...the best thing in all the world.
Later, when she's lying snug in his arms and the pain lances through him, twisting him like a cloth, he's sure that this - is his redemption. He opens his arms to it - opens his eyes wide, so he won't miss a thing.
It's not redemption, not at all, but by then - he doesn't mind.
So - Angel/Buffy, not explicit but het. See what you think. Very short! :)
And don't worry - all sorts of lovely S/X simmering on the stove.
Lying with her in the bed, she smells of blood and sweat and rain. Faintly of some hot-house perfume and more strongly of lust. Dark makeup smudged under her eyes make them look huge and scared, but her hands on his back pull him close.
Her mouth has no fear - her mouth finds his, and his jaw, and his throat. Hesitates for a moment when no pulse beats against her questing tongue but then he's tasting the sweetness of her collar-bone, soap and her skin under his own tongue and her hesitation is gone.
Heat and rainwater and the lingering taint of the fight - decaying endorphins that make her taste of burnt sugar and citrus. Her hands are strong - her legs willowy and steely and open. Close clasp of muscle and bone drawing him further - drawing him in.
He looks down at her - studies her face. Her cheeks are still rounded like a child's - her hair wisping across her forehead where it's dried a bit. Mellow gold that makes him think for one moment of Darla and the pang that goes through him is bittersweet and hollow.
Instead he looks into her eyes. He is not there - not in the usual way. No reflection in those mirrors to the soul. But he is there. Like a light shining out of her as her lips part and her breath flutters, warm and coffee-mellow against his cheek. As the words tumble out, breathless catch and hitch as he moves - pushes - breaks the seal that made her sacred.
Now she's a different sort of holy - now she's the confessor who is taking his sin into her and transmuting it - changing it. Forgiveness and absolution in the press of thighs to his ribs - in the broken cry as he moves deeper - a little harder.
And at that moment - he sees it. Sees it all. Sees his future in her eyes as clearly as he feels it in the still, cold hollow of his chest. He will fight beside this gilded child and he will win. Win the battle...win redemption. He will be her strong right arm and the evils of the world will fall before them and one day - one day...
One day the light that shines from her will shine from him and he will be - reborn. Pure happiness - pure joy - makes him lift his head and cry her name - clutch her so fiercely that a normal girl would be broken.
But she isn't normal - isn't broken. She's strong and perfect and his, and he pulls her close and closes his eyes - buries his face in the silken web of her hair. She loves him - she trusts him. She - believes. And it's...the best thing in all the world.
Later, when she's lying snug in his arms and the pain lances through him, twisting him like a cloth, he's sure that this - is his redemption. He opens his arms to it - opens his eyes wide, so he won't miss a thing.
It's not redemption, not at all, but by then - he doesn't mind.
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Fuck. Me.
Perfection, babe. Absolute. I had to read it twice to pick up on all the nuances. The changes. The meaning. The reality of it. And now I'm going back to read it again. You've made me relive two moments in Angel's life by this one story. Amazing.
Thank you.
*adores you*
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She's contagious, I read it.
different sort of holy nicenicenice.
*hugs you*
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To be so secure in the knowledge of the future only to have it torn away and not care at all. Amazing, babe. Truly.
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:)
*smooch*
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Nah. Not contagious. But some things just need to be written.
:)
Thank you, bay-bee.
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Thanks, bay-bee.
It was really prickling at me - had to write!
Glad i did.
*runs from het*
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And nice icon too :>
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Just, you know, sayin'.
Writing het is not a bad thing, 'specially when it's you doin' it.
*snogs*
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This is amazing! Just incredible... I don't even know whe
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Cats are like that!
Annoying creatures.
:)
Thanks so much!
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Yeah, religious imagery seems good for him.
:)
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I never really have, either. It seemed like an interesting thing to do.
:)
And thanks!
*snuggles icon*
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:)
We'll see what pops into my brain next.
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That last line *gut twisting*
Gorgeous prose as always
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:)
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I loved this.
loved.
loved.
loved.
this.
You and your heterophobia. You really must work past that, because despite your "het bores me, been there done that" litany, you write it so perfectly. There's a measure of depth there that shows because you have been there/done that.
Angel isn't my first choice in fanfic reading, but you writing man and woman, god... the thick, sweet aftertaste sits deliciously on my tongue as I write this comment.
Never should you exclude any man and woman pairing from your choice of plots, such bias is a crime against your own potential.
In these few short paragraphs, you have made me want her. Want him. Want to feel their mix. And want you. All in one short telling.
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I doubt very much i'll ever write anything much longer than this with a 'het' theme. Just - not my cuppa, as they say.
:)
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Thank you, bay-bee!
:)
*smooch*
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I don't really know what to say because it's so different from what I usually read and I'm not really an Angel fan, but it's completely blown me away. I really enjoyed this foray into Angel's mind, his hope and the way he sees Buffy.
This slew me:
Later, when she's lying snug in his arms and the pain lances through him, twisting him like a cloth, he's sure that this - is his redemption. He opens his arms to it - opens his eyes wide, so he won't miss a thing.
It's not redemption, not at all, but by then - he doesn't mind.
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I love to hear a 'not fan' like something! I'm not much into Angel, either, but this just - came to me.
:)
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Very nice ficlet.
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The sex was a catalyst - what the sex IMPLIED was what was the important thing. Love, trust, acceptance. Sex itself, not so important.
:)
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:)
Thank you so much!
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As the words tumble out, breathless catch and hitch as he moves - pushes - breaks the seal that made her sacred.
and this is particularly heartbreaking:
He opens his arms to it - opens his eyes wide, so he won't miss a thing.
because, of course, he didn't see it coming. (And neither did we!)
I'd love to archive this at Sublime (http://www.octavesoftheheart.com/sublime) if you'll let me.
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:)
Please, feel free to archive - would you like me to send a .doc file? I'm at changeling at catbones dot com.
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Love his moment of illusory redemption at the end.
Julia, should do a little real writing so I can do a Roseathon tomorrow...
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Wait - there are people who don't like slash?
*boggles*
*reels*
Thank you so much. :)
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:)
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This is wonderful! I love how it's explicit without being explicit (did that make sense?) (I think I mean that you place the characters mid-sex but the story is not about sex, it's not NC17)
and I've never though this before just now but I think that maybe, in some twisted way, there was a bit of redemption in that moment. Redemption the gypsies didn't want him to have and so they punished him for it. It certainly is not the kind of redemption he is looking for though.
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Yeah - i didn't want the physical blow-by-blow - which is dull, anyway - but the *emotion* behind what's happening.
Yeah. The idea that sex alone, even with the 'girl he loved' would be enough to break the curse seemed sort of off to me. The idea that she loved and trusted him enough to do that with him - love him, hold him, make him part of her life - was the curse breaker. At that point, he'd sort of, yes, been redeemed.
And so, yeah. Whammy. Silly gypsies. They got what they deserved.
:)
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and I think that Buffy completely and utterly giving herself to him was the curse breaker. That someone that he loved so much could trust him and love him so completely, so intrinsically let him focus solely on her, and forget all of his pain because he could live in her, through her, for just one minute and thus forget what he was without her. to me, that is one kind of redemption (although like I said before, it's not the redemption he is looking for, the making amends deal).
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:)
Thanks for your fb and comments! It's fun to go back to an 'old' post.