Hot Chocolate and Angels

Author: Sare Liz Gordy


rating: well, it's not angst, so it must be gratuitous fucking. Verily, thou are warned.

Spoilers: It's my Mutant Ghoul Uni. Round about 28 days after Sacrificial Lamb. Need further explanation? Check out The Loft. http://www.Geocities.Com/SoHo/Lofts/9323

Disclaimers: Mutant Ghoul universe is mine, All the good stuff is Joss'. Forever and ever, amen.

Notes: I'm grouchy, whiney, pouty, bloated, pathetic, bleeding and in pain. AND THERE'S NO FUCKING HOT COCOA IN THE HOUSE. (Not to mention I don't have a fuckable boytoy who digs the blood scene.) This was a logical derivative of my current state of mind. Hope you enjoy. PS - this is kinda beta'd in the way that's not, but like I said, I'm in a really shitty mood so if you have a problem with it, I don't want to know.

Angel opened his apartment door to an odd sight. Not odd in a bad way, per se, but at the very least, not usual. Buffy was curled up on a corner of his couch in what she termed her comfy clothes, with a steaming mug of cocoa between her hands. Even though she looked up and her face brightened at his arrival, she still made a pathetic picture.

"Hey," Angel said, the greeting almost becoming a tentative question.

"Hey," Buffy replied, pouting.

Even as she was, Angel found her to be nothing less than gorgeous. He smiled a little smile and put his keys in his jacket pocket before taking it off and draping it over the back of the couch. Angel knew exactly what was going on with his poor little lover and the scent was intoxicating. Unfortunately for his libido, the vampire knew he wasn't going to be getting any tonight. Sometimes her cramps were bearable and he could coax her into a good mood. Mostly they were slightly on this side of debilitating and she wanted nothing more than to curl up and die. Her words.

The moment he sat down next to her, Buffy crawled into his lap and nuzzled into his chest with a mild whine. Though the mostly filled mug teetered precariously in her lax grip, Angel didn't bother to take it away from her. Such actions -- the removal of chocolate -- were bound only to get him into trouble. For the moment, he simply let her lie on him, softly stroking her hair and thigh, waiting for her body to relax.

Angel looked up with a question in his mind, one he dare not ask, at least not until he'd ascertained her mood for the evening. When she was like this, one never knew.

Hot chocolate. A mug. Two things his kitchen didn't really have. Angel looked at the mug as best he could from his vantage point. White with golden cherubs on it. For a moment, the vampire just didn't get it. Why would she bring... Then he got it.

He couldn't keep the chuckles in.

"What?" his lover grumbled on top of him.

"I like your choice of mugs," Angel replied, the smile evident in his voice.

"Yea, well. You had a deficiency."

Angel kissed the top of her head as a sign of peace. "I'm sorry. We'll go shopping sometime, if you want."

"Okay," the Slayer mumbled petulantly. "Got you hot cocoa too."

"Thank you, Baby," Angel replied, moving one hand between her shoulder blades to gently rub there.

"Do you drink it?" Buffy asked with mild suspicion in her voice.

Angel had no idea what the correct answer to this question could be. He sighed inwardly, opting for honesty, hoping at the very least it might get him brownie points. "No, haven't tried it yet."

"Then why'd you thank me?" Buffy replied hotly.

"Cause now I will," the Smooth One replied.

"Here," she said, thrusting his new mug in the general direction of his head.

Angel gently took the cup away from her, sipping it carefully, finding it to be not terribly bad, though not as rich as the versions he'd drunk centuries ago, when he had still been human.

He set the mug behind him on the table and tilted her face up slightly, careful not to uncurl her body in any way. Gently he pressed his lips to hers, testing how responsive she wanted to be. When she sighed a tiny sigh and relaxed her jaw, Angel pushed his tongue gently between her lips. Her mouth was a haven of moist warmth, but Angel was careful not to loose himself in the sensations. Keeping the kiss relatively light, he pulled back and rained tiny kisses across her forehead, down her cheekbones, all over her face. He was rewarded with a happy sigh for a job well done, and her body relaxed slightly to boot.

Back to nuzzling the top of her head as she burrowed as deep as humanly possible into his chest, he murmured absentmindedly, "Tastes better from you."

"Hmm?" She was still relatively relaxed from the kiss. There was a god.

Angel smiled and murmured down to her. "The hot chocolate. It's nice, but it tastes better from your lips."

Buffy raised her head of her own will and volition and smiled broadly at Angel. She reached up quickly and gave him a peck on his cheek, then went back to his chest, settling in.


Angel was roused from his light slumber by the feeling of Buffy stretching out on him. He glanced up at a clock in the kitchen an noticed that hours had passed.

After she's stretched every muscle possible and rubbed against him in every way, Angel's girl padded off to the bathroom, effectively out of his reach.

The vampire sighed and ran his hand through his hair. It could quite possibly be a long night.

Taking the opportunity himself, Angel got up and rotated his shoulders, making sure they still worked. He grabbed the mug and brought it to the kitchen, rinsing it out and setting it in the sink to soak a bit. After all, it was his only mug.

Buffy came up behind him as he was at the sink drying his hands. Encircling his waist with her arms, she sighed and cleaved her body to his.

Angel smiled and caressed her arms.

"So, what's going on tonight? What did you tell your mom?"

Buffy grunted in response.

Angel turned in her grip and gathered her into his embrace. "Baby," he growled out, "What did you tell her?"

"Nuthin'," the Slayer responded meekly.

"She thinks you're at home asleep, doesn't she? And so does Giles?"

Buffy pouted up at him. "Maybe."

"Buffy," Angel growled, trying his best to be stern and not really succeeding. "How the hell are you going to get back in your window in this condition?"

"I could do it," the Slayer retorted pitifully.

Angel sighed and rolled his eyes. "Come on, honey. I'll take you home."

"Don't wanna be home." Buffy looked up at Angel from under her eyelashes. "Can't be loud at home."

Angel raised an eyebrow and didn't dare hope.

Buffy gave him an evil grin. "You just gonna stand there, or are you going to kiss me and carry me to bed?"

Angel's rumbling growl resonated through the kitchen as he crushed his lips to hers. Buffy gleefully wrapped her arms around his neck and sought out his tongue with a vengeance.

"I thought you didn't feel well," Angel managed to get out while nibbling and licking down her neck to her shoulder.

"I figured... oooo... maybe you might know how to make me feel better," Buffy said on a sigh, leaning back in his arms.

"Mmmm... I have an idea or two."

"Oooh, do they include eating me out?" Buffy asked with hope.

"Hell, yea," Angel snarled before latching onto her cotton clad nipple.

"Oh, then be my guest." Buffy's eyes rolled back into her head, and momentarily she was unable to think of anything but her lover's multitalented tongue. Only when he buried his face between her breasts and inhaled did her mind seem to click back in. "Oooo... If you don't mind, I'm just going to sit back and enjoy the show." Buffy dragged Angel's face back to hers. "I'm feeling lazy," she explained.

Angel grinned and scooped her up, managing to have his tongue thoroughly intertwined with hers all the way to the bed and not crash into anything. Call it one of the perks of being preternatural.

Taking his lips from her for a moment, Angel stripped Buffy's shirt off. "I got no problems with that," he replied to his young lover's earlier statement of submission.

Clad only in a cotton bra from the waist up, Buffy crooned and arched into his cool touch as his fingers slid over her breasts, quickly followed by his lips. Taking advantage of her arched back, Angel slipped his hands behind her and unclasped her bra, dragging the garment off her slowly, trailing it down her abdomen.

Angel quickly undid the knotted drawstring of her pants and with a little raising of the hips, his lover of ten or so weeks lay bare before him. With the removal of the last barriers, Angel took a deep breath, taking in the vanilla, strawberry, musk and blood that was so very uniquely _Buffy_. Slightly overwhelmed with pent up lust and the perfume of her blood so close at hand, Angel buried his face in her stomach as it changed, morphing into the demonic visage that for some strange, yet undeniable reason, seemed to turn her on.

He could hear her moan as he changed. He knew she could feel the demonic features form, that's why he did this. Her stomach was best for it, but her neck was good too.

Face still in her stomach, Angel reached up to take her nipples in between his fingers, rolling them slightly. Her whine was music to his ears. He continued, caressing her stomach, her breasts, until she gasped out his name.

Angel looked up in askance only to be physically dragged up Buffy's body. Lazy or not, what the Slayer wanted, she basically got. "Kiss me," she panted against his lips.

Amazingly enough, she didn't initiate the kiss, but waited for him. Angel didn't bother to try and calm down enough to change back. If Buffy wanted him to, she would most certainly let him know. Until then, they both wanted it this way. That much he'd figured out by now.

Angel pushed his supple tongue into her mouth roughly, careful not to nick her accidentally. Easier said than done -- the fangs weren't so tough as they were long enough to navigate around, but the incisors were razor sharp, and for a reason. However lately, he'd been practicing with Buffy, so it wasn't as much of a problem as it had once been.

For his efforts, Buffy cooed into his mouth, rubbing her skin against the cotton and denim he was wearing. Her arms around his neck relaxed onto his shoulders as her knees rose slightly, her hips writhing against his aching hardness.

Angel released her lips to the air she gasped in and trailed down her neck, grazing her skin with his fangs, lingering over her thumping vein, nuzzling it, breathing in as if it were wine to be tasted, but not yet.

"Oooo..." Buffy crooned out, still writhing beneath him. "I'm so wet, Angel. So wet," the Slayer managed to gasp as her nipple was sucked harshly past some very sharp teeth. "And bloody," she whined. "Know you can smell it. Know you can smell me. Sooo bloody. Clean me, Angel?" she ended the plea with her tiny little girl voice which always did wonders for his erection. Angel growled and looked up at her, his hand massaging the swollen nipple he'd formerly been working on. She had his full attention.

"Oh, Angel, I feel dirty. Clean me?"

Angel could do naught but groan. Groan, and slide down her body until he was suitably positioned with his face between her legs, exactly where he'd wanted to be for the entire night.

Holding her hips, he dipped his tongue in her and lapped up the blood that was always there at the mouth of her, ready to flow out. It was mixed with her slick juices -- a cocktail that always went straight to his head. Angel moaned and dived in further, past her now clean outer lips to her inner ones. He skimmed back and forth across her clit then sucked it strongly until she screeched, fully realizing that his little girl needed nothing more than to climax as many times as he could manage.

Still panting and chanting his name, Angel started up again, having swallowed the delicious gush that came with her orgasm. Ignoring Buffy's clit for the time being, Angel methodically cleaned her inner lips of all blood residue, searching out her every swollen nook and cranny, leaving no patch of sensitive skin left unmolested.

Done with that task, Angel turned back to the Buffy's oversensitive bundle of nerves, lapping at it with tiny licks, bringing it back to consciousness. Angel felt her fingers flow through his hair, pressing him tightly against her, as if he had somewhere better to be. He sucked at her clit again, biting it gently, not wanting to lacerate the sensitive skin, at least, not now. Again, her blood and water flowed into his greedy mouth, proceeded only by her screams of ecstasy that echoed in his head.

Angel relished, as his tongue delved deeply into her, fucking her into oblivion, that he could bring this to her, and that she was indeed his. He had passed the point where even deep down he felt as if he shouldn't have her. Granted, a hundred times a day he realized he was unworthy of her love, but he'd be damned if he would ever do anything to jeopardize what they had. It was too important. She was too important. Her happiness meant everything to him, it always would. And right now, he was the only thing that made her truly and consistently happy, as odd as it was for the vampire to admit. And contrary to popular opinion, it wasn't just the sex.

Tonight, for instance, Angel thought as Buffy came again into his mouth, bathing him in her glory. He would have been perfectly happy to hold her, and never do exactly what he was doing at the moment. He was comfortable that she didn't want it, and would never have pushed the issue. It was just an extremely incredible bonus that she happened to love it.

Angel moaned as he shifted and his erection only got more painful. He raised his head to look Buffy in the eye.

A sedated smile curved her lip as she panted from her last high.

"God, Angel? You still have your clothes on? Get with the program," she said, her head thumping back on the pillows. "And get inside," she continued on more softly.

Angel all but ripped his tee shirt off and nearly castrated himself, he took his pants off so quickly. The end product, however, was that he was undressed and kneeling above her exactly two and a half seconds after her head hit the pillow.

He laid down on top of her, giving the Slayer his full weight, knowing that she loved it pressing down on her. Angel kissed her tenderly around his fangs as he slowly inserted himself, never stopping until his full length was embedded deep inside.

Her hips bucked up to meet his as their rhythm began, starting off slowly, but never getting very much faster. Angel's hands ran all over her body while they made love, his fingers sometimes intertwined with hers, sometimes in her hair as they kissed, sometimes lightly tracing the contours of her breasts. He elicited one sweet sigh after another with all of his ministrations. When he couldn't bear to hold back any longer, his hand drifted down past her curls to her clit, rubbing it vigorously before pinching it and rolling it between the pads of his forefinger and thumb.

Buffy cried out, her hot core clenching around him, milking his willing stream into her body, and her sounds were a light echo of his own. Moments later when both had calmed slightly, Angel pulled out from her, fully understanding her whimper. He picked her up in his arms and turned down the bed, placing her back in the covers and joining her. Instantly she came to him, curling up at his side and in his arms.

"Don't forget," she mumbled. "Gotta get home... Mom..."

"Shhh..." Angel admonished her. "I won't forget." Softness filled his voice as he looked at her, his eyes close to closing. "Love you, Buffy."

She sighed and snuggled deeper into his embrace. "Love you, too."



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