Title: Of Doorknobs & Twinkies
Rating: PG-16 for some language and situations.
Summary: Hmmmmm…oh just read it…
Spoilers: Season one I’m guessing.
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: By all means just tell me where?
Notes: I’ve been unable to write anything CA for a while. So this is sort of like a reviving, trying to get up the inspiration to write the Fallen Angels series. *ducks various bricks*
Thanks/Dedication: Gabby, Califi, Lysa and everyone who gave me feedback. You know I love you guys. Just bear with me a little longer.
I’m living with a vampire.
Oh alright, I do more than live with this vampire, but why is it that I pick this particular moment to notice it. I mean I’ve lived with this manpire, I’ve worked side by side, fought demons and taken on monsters all day and never noticed it before.
It’s damned insanity.
Think of it okay. You live with someone or at least spend more of your waking hours with them and you pick up on each others habits right? I mean he knows that after a particularly nasty vision I need a little pampering besides the blah pills Wesley forces down my throat.
Wesley! I mean I’ve only known him on a permanent basis for the past four months and I knew every anal thing that he does in his usually English way, but dammit! I’ve known salty goodness since Sunnyhell and the stupid powers that do all shit pick today to make me aware of the simple fact.
I watch the edges of his teeth squeeze rubber a little more tightly.
Angel has an oral fixation.
And I don’t think I’ve ever been so transfixed by a mouth chewing on the end of a damned pencil.
And yet, here I sit behind my desk in the stupid cramped office while Angel is leaning against Wesley’s stupid desk looking over the latest download on the demon threatening our very existence. I’m almost sorry I had this vision, but then if I didn’t love the stupid Irish demon that got me into this in the first place, I’d be sorry for every stupid vision.
Except as his eyelids flicker as his eyes scan the old moldy paper, his teeth only start to grate the end of the pink rubber harder.
Swallowing hard, I try really hard to look elsewhere, but the damned eyes are scarred for life! The stupid blood vessel thingies Mrs. Pierson talked about in Biology 101 had been burned and turned to dust, when the stupid pencil entered his stupid mouth making me utterly…well stupid.
And you know before Angel had just been Angel and his mouth was just his mouth and his teeth were just his teeth, but now Angel is this tall dark brooding man with sharp lines of his face and shoulders, that delicious waistline and the extent of his long legs while his mouth is a perfect stretch of tissue over flesh that’s molded to fit perfectly from the enticing darkness of the edges to the uncontrollable softness where that delicious dip in his upper lip meets the lower and his teeth.
God, burn me at the stake and color me bad because I’ve never had a vampire fetish.
Not while I was in Sunnyhell and never in LA where the threat of teeth and bones is even more potent without the shroud of the slayer.
But those damned teeth I’ve seen extend into perfect fangs and retract back to blunt whiteness countless times but never remembered before until I see them nip the end of the stupid pencil and starting this stupid staring problem on my part.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
And then his tongue ventures out of the recesses that are the caverns of his mouth and touch the tip of the pink rubber.
Chocolate brown eyes that had before been just eyes glance up and overcast eyebrows that had been just eyebrows rise in surprise at the uncharacteristic sound leaving my lips. When notices my wide eyed fear at being discovered, and note that my eyes are still embarrassingly enough glued to his mouth.
“Was that a squeak?”
Wesley looked up from scribbling on his pad to frown around the room. “Oh dear I hope there aren’t rats. I do so hate rats. Nasty buggers.”
And yet I stare. Oh dear god! Will the mortification ever end?
Now Angel’s not stupid and neither is he the kind to let sleeping dogs lie. The simple thing for him to do was to go back to his chewing and let me stare.
But the curiosity killed Cordelia and he looks behind him to make sure it was him I was looking at, before ducking his head lower and leveling his gaze with mine.
But thank goodness meeting the amused depths of his eyes kicks the air out of my lungs and I remember to breathe and bat my eyes. Yes. It’s easier when I’m not looking at him.
But then I can’t walk around the entire stupid office all day with my eyes closed. Of all the powers Doyle has to give me.
“Are you okay?”
Oh dear god and the voice is closer so I finally crack one eye open, not trusting myself to fully look up at him and squint at him. “Ahem. Hmmm?”
“Did you just whimper?”
And the full beam of his intimately touching gaze that had before just been a gaze hits me with full force. “Pencil.”
He blinks in alarm and I finally shake myself to my senses. All the years of self control and a Chase goes down in flames. It was unheard of. I had to be strong. “Um…yeah,” I put one hand on my closed eye and looked up at him with apparent calmness, “yeah just something in my eye. Can I have your pencil?”
Just the amused confusion in the lines of his forehead tells me enough. He thinks I’ve finally lost my mind. “Why?”
“So I can jab the remaining eye with it. Just give me the damned pencil Angel.” I jumped to my feet and held out my hand. There was only so much humiliation I could stand.
And I didn’t look at him, just angrily glared at the flat planes of his stomach that had never fascinated me before as it was placed in my hand. Then with one last huff I spun on my heel and walked out of the office and into the bathroom.
I hear Angel just as I snap the pencil in two. “She needs to get out more often.”
It took me exactly twenty minutes to even my breathing throw the pencil down the toilet and fix my skirt on my hips before I was able to walk back to the office.
“Eye okay now Cordy?”
Looking up I sent him a bright smile that should have reassured him if it wasn’t too wide because I swear I saw him stagger with the shock of it. “Perfect.” Was it just me or did the ‘per’ in perfect come out more like a ‘purrrrr’?
Walking to the coffee maker I poured myself a mug while Angel walked into his office.
“Get me a cup will you Cordy?” I stared after him as he walked through the open door, my eyes staring at his back.
“Yeah, while I look at this file. I could use a little pep.” He fell into his chair before meeting my eyes. “Just no cinnamon in it this time?” And that was when he smiled. Oh dear Lord, full onslaught of content Angel smile and I stood there one hand holding my mug and the other the pot of coffee.
Oh dear god it was true. I was starting to feel attracted to the big dork. And all because I saw him sucking on the fat end of a pencil. Oh god! Please shoot me now and put me out of my misery.
“Could you get me a spot of Coffee as well Cordelia?”
Slowly glancing down at Wesley I wondered how to put both the mug and pot down before my feet ran for the exit. I couldn’t be here. I had to get out. Get out now. “Wesley?”
He didn’t look up from his scribbling. “Hmmm?”
“Gimmie some money.”
At that he looked up. “What?”
Think. Think. Think.
“Umm…this brew has gone bad, I’m going to run to Starbuck’s.”
He frowned. “But I just got…”
I slapped both the mug and the pot on his table. “Give me the damned money Wesley!”
The twenty dollar bill was thrust under my nose and my feet were finally stalking for the door.
Oh god I was fixated with Angel’s oral fixation.
When I finally entered the office again, I am smiling more calmly and feeling lighter than I had all morning. So what if like an incessant one year old my vampire put everything he encountered in his mouth.
Of course one year olds also had their mother’s breasts and oh dear god bad mental picture! Eyow! Eyow! Eyow! And not once was I the mother.
Um. Okay not the first two times, then every time the damned image in my head was with my boob and his…um…
“Here’s yours Wes. Double shot of espresso.”
He looks up with a smile. “Bless you Cordelia. This new demon is a rather elusive bugger.”
I pat his head with a supportive smile. “You’ll bite it yet Wes. You’re research boy.” Then I pick up Angel’s cup of coffee and pushed the door to his office open.
I open my mouth, grinning and planning on a witty greeting before both feet screech to a halt and I swear there must be smoke at my heels.
Angel is sitting sprawled in his chair looking out of the dusky window, one ankle propped over knee, one hand twisting a pen between his fingers and the other hand…oh dear god…his elbow propped up on the arm of his chair his pointer finger sliding across the expanse of his lower lips before being caught at the edge of his mouth, his teeth worrying the tip before making another pass.
And for reference the teeth catching the delicious pad of his wide finger are his canines. His fangs that had before just been fangs.
He snaps out of his thoughts to blinks at me in surprise. “Cordy! Hey” He drags his ankle off the knee and slides forward in his chair. “You didn’t have to go out and get that.” Rising out of the chair, his hand falls next to him and my eyes follow the tell tale wetness where his finger had made contact with his mouth.
Walking towards me he gives me a smile I don’t see until his hand touches mine holding the cup. When I don’t let go he blinks. “This is for me isn’t it?”
Staring up into the chocolate depths of his eyes I swallow the lump in my throat and make the mistake of taking a deeper breath than necessary. My senses are assaulted with the scent that is uniquely Angel.
Spice and pine and a hint of coffee and I am bodily pushed away almost burnt with the brand in my nostrils. I’ll never smell anything again.
“Yes. Oh god, I just remembered! I left my car at the shop. I better go.” Scrambling back out of the office I nearly collide with Wesley as he jumps out of the way just in time to save his coffee from spilling across my back and I only notice the suspicious amusement in Angel’s sharp face before I’m running from the office. Again.
Angel’s confused statement only makes me run harder. “She doesn’t have a car.”
Oh dear god! No please! This is where I work. I can’t do anything anywhere else. Please don’t do this to me. Not with him. Not with my home. Things couldn’t get weird in the one place where I could hide.
Please don’t take away the one man who could hold me and make me feel I never needed anyone else again. Please God don’t make this weird here at work. I couldn’t be falling for Angel.
Hormones. Only hormones. And all because of Angel’s stupid oral fixation.
I needed a cold shower.
Twenty-six hours, twenty-two minutes and forty-nine seconds ago I discovered Angel has an oral fixation. Eight hours, twenty-seven minutes and twenty seconds ago I discovered breaking every damned pencil in the office didn’t put an end to my misery.
Eight hours, twenty-two minutes and five seconds ago I was finally showered cleaned and secure in my Angel fetish. Eight hours, nineteen minutes and seven seconds ago I found myself standing in the doorway of the office the next morning watching him looking at the confectionary item suspiciously.
Eight hours, eighteen minutes fifty-five seconds ago I realized I had let out a very unlady like curse.
Oh dear god in heaven, who the hell gave him a Twinkie? Who would ever do something so cruel and immoral? What about all that crap about lack of vamp taste buds unless it was blood?
Somebody forgot to inform my vampire, because while Gunn stood there smirking like a stupid idiot, prodding Angel to go ahead and finish at least one and Wesley scarfing one down as I say this, Angel was holding the scrumptious article a few centimeters from his mouth, before his lips parted and the tongue slid out to swipe a little of the oozing cream from the edge.
That was when the doorknob on the front door came off in my hand and I cursed.
Three pairs of eyes looked up at me and my damned eyes were fixed on Angel’s tongue still caught halfway between the Twinkie and his lips a spot of cream covering the tip. And that was when it became too damned much.
If the curse hadn’t startled my orally fixated vampire enough, the speed of the distance I covered must have before my hands grabbed his big beautiful head and pulled it down. I can’t blame this one on vision transfer strategy.
Because before Angel could blink or close his mouth, my tongue slid out, wrapped around his and sucked away every last bit of cream there was along with the distinct metal of a taste that is purely Angel.
His eyes widened as I crushed my lips into his. With a sharp intake of breath he leaned back slightly, his hip hitting the edge of Wesley’s desk, waiting for me to break the kiss with an apology of being crazy even a little horny, but I didn’t.
My body instinctively moved forward and fit the curves of his. With my eyes sealed shut, the drug, that was Angel-vampire extraordinaire, began to move through my body. It was a tingle that started where our lips connected then spread down my neck, chest and arms in a fire that only got stronger as it went lower.
His taste should have been outlawed. If I were Angel, I’d be orally fixated on myself.
I thought he was frozen in shock, in fact, I’d expected it but what I didn’t fathom was that after a second his arms wrapped around me tightly, his lips drinking in mine with a quiet hunger I wasn’t prepared for.
His tongue ran along my lower lip, and I moved unconsciously against him, completely unaware of the audience as Gunn, who we hadn’t known long, along with Wesley, who did know us and probably thought he didn’t, gaped in shock.
Angel’s tongue didn’t prod and tease my lips, encouraging me to let him in, but swept back boldly to tangle with mine. With a soft moan, my hands left their hold on his face and slid around his neck, my fingers slipping through the silky hair at the nape of his neck, and conceded to his unspoken request.
The kiss was fast but thorough.
His tongue made a pass around mine with a confidence that came with centuries of experience. One. Twice. Three times; tasting, savoring. I felt the heat rise up my toes and finally explode in my head as his fingers ran up into my hair, as he finally slanted his lips on to mine.
In the span of the ten to fifteen second that the kiss continued it was then when I finally realized he was kissing me back. His hands clutched my soft hair in his fists and he let out a vibrating groan as I explored his mouth, learning the flavor, the shape, the contours of his mouth, tasting the Twinkie he had been eating.
It was a kiss I had initiated and he wouldn’t let me break. I wondered if he had been caught into the moment of unruly passion, or meant every silent promise.
Oh I hope. I hope. I hope.
I ignored the fact that after this was over he would most likely fire me, or slay me like a cow. But the thought had became unimportant when I’d felt his hands roaming through my already disheveled hair, moving in tiny circles with his sleek, sexy fingers while his mouth plundered mine.
And when the tension build to a crescendo in my chest it was his hands that gently pulled on my hair, breaking the connection of our mouths, and letting me drag in much needed air I’d forgotten I needed.
His pupils dilated and his chest heaving with breath he didn’t need, I stared into his eyes more than a little disoriented. Then realization dawned on me and exactly what I had done suddenly weighed over me.
Shit. Shitty shit shit! Crap Damn!
No credit to his vampire ability, he must have seen the fear on my face, because his hands untangled out of my hair. The air rushed in and out of my lips and the smoke sifted out of his eyes. For a second he stood under the weight of my body complacently until I jerked away, my insanity giving way to absolute fright.
And there in the only place I could call home, I felt naked. I had laid everything on the line. What the hell had possessed me?
I can still recall the smoky dark chocolate of his eyes as his lower lip hung startled and marked with the cherry from my lip-gloss as he gazed down at me with bewildered desire that he probably didn’t even know was there.
Well right back at you Broody-boy. There’s only so much a seer can take before she flat runs out of excuses. And I was never the ‘excuse-me’ type.
And then I ran.