Title: Black Days. A Darkness Within Forum Fic
Posted: May 14, 2006
Category: Maybe a little angst. Mostly seduction and teasing
Summary: A remix of certain canon events in S2, during Angel’s ‘dark time’
Spoilers: Mid S2
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: DW/GTCA. anywhere else, please ask first.
Warning:slightly non-con at points, but come on, it’s Angel. Have you *seen* him?
Feedback: But of course
He watched them dancing.
*I-I’m in the middle of it*
She looked so happy, her hips moving the way he remembered, when he used to watch her at the Bronze, grooving to Wesley’s slower movements.
*hands shoving the phone book against his chest*
Her face was open, smiling that glowing can’t-touch-this grin of hers.
*don’t make me move you*
They must’ve solved a case, thinking they were doing good, making a difference. Didn’t they know the universe didn’t care, that hell was all around them?
*please make me, please*
He watched Cordelia, bright face in a sea of grey and black and red, feeling the creep of cold along his bones.
All the way home Cordelia felt that old Sunnydale feeling of being watched, like dinner cooking on the stove.
She hurried out of Gunn’s truck, waving good bye to him as she rushed up the steps of her building, stake clutched in one hand. Gunn took off as soon as she was inside.
Dennis, ever helpful, swung her door open.
Inside, it was warm, and the stereo was on, soft music filtering from the speakers.
Exhaustion did a slow and thorough crawl through her body, and she swung her purse off her shoulder and onto a chair, dropping the stake on top, and crossed over to plop onto her couch with a tired sigh.
“It was rough, Dennis, I won’t lie to you. But hey, we had a client, and got paid, so yay, here’s to eating for another couple of weeks.”
The ghost waggled the remote control at her.
“No thanks, I think I’ll take a bath and head off to bed. “
She got up and headed off to the bathroom, stripping and dropping her clothes on the hallway floor. When she’d first moved in, she tried to clean up after herself, but after a while it became clear that Dennis liked picking up after her and, after a longer while, she liked letting him.
In the bathroom, Dennis ran the water and poured some of her bath beads in, heating up the bathroom just like she liked it.
She climbed in slowly, letting the heat move up her body in degrees, until she was immersed in the scented, soapy water.
Music drifted in through the closed door, and Cordelia settled herself back on the foam cushion against her head and closed her eyes, sighing contently.
Solved their first case, without what’s-his-name, and gotten paid to boot. Underneath the tired feeling was a little tinge of hopefulness, that maybe they could do this alone.
Seeing Angel at the hospital had been a nasty shock, and she hated him right then for the spark of blind hope it caused. Finally being able to tell him what she’d wanted to say to him – that had been the single most satisfying thing in her life to date.
She nearly convinced herself that she wouldn’t be seeing him ever again after that, until he came for the book. Barged into their office like he had every right, she wanted to stake him so bad her hand itched for the wood…
…and threatening her – well, now she knew, didn’t she?
Now she could let go.
A noise jerked her out of the half stupor the heated water had lulled her into, and she sat upright, listening again.
The music was louder, almost blaring through the door.
“Dennis? Turn the music down!”
He didn’t answer and the volume didn’t lessen.
With a huff, she heaved her heat-weakened body from the water, wrapping her robe around her shoulders.
“The neighbors are going to complain, D-“
She swung the door open and stepped into the hallway, coming up short.
Angel snapped the stereo off, and the apartment plunged into sudden silence.
Hot anger swamped over her at his presumption in just walking in anywhere and everywhere he pleased, and she pointed at the front door furiously.
“I mean it, get out!”
He didn’t move, just kept staring at her, and her heart tripped a beat in her chest.
Had he lost his soul?
She crossed her arms over her chest, hoping he couldn’t hear the painful thump of her blood in her ears, or the audible way she swallowed.
Then he spoke.
“We were having a talk earlier, and before Wes interrupted, I got the sense you wanted something from me.”
He walked closer to her, and she steeled herself not to back up.
“Your head on a plate maybe.” She replied icily.
He stopped directly in front of her, eyes fierce on her face.
“Or maybe this,” he said, grabbing her arms and shoving her back against the wall next to the bathroom door. She gasped in shock, and he covered her mouth with his in a kiss that sent lightning through her nerve endings like a lit fuse of dynamite.
Oh god, he hadn’t lost his soul, just his damned mind.
She pushed against him but he wasn’t budging so she tried tearing her mouth away but he’d pressed her head back with the force of his kiss, plunging his tongue in and stroking her teeth and tongue like he was trying to lick all the way inside her body, pushing against her with his chest and hips.
He pulled back to gently sniff along her face, whispering.
“Is this what you wanted?”
Kissed her cheek.
He pulled her robe open and cupped a breast, and she keened low in her throat, body prickling and goosing up with sensation.
“Scream for me, baby?”
He bent his head and latched his mouth around a nipple, sucking on it until Cordelia literally saw black spots in front of her wide open eyes.
He let go suddenly and she would have sunk to the floor from shock and anger and excitement, but he grabbed her wrist and pushed her through the apartment, through the open door of her bedroom ahead of him, following more slowly.
She stumbled to a halt against the foot of the bed.
“What do you want, Angel?”
He shrugged off his trench coat, letting it drop to the floor.
She edged around the bed, watching him come at her with slow purpose.
“I just want to feel something besides the cold, Cordy.”
He grabbed her shoulders and threw her back, down on top of the covers. She tried to scramble backwards to the other side but he yanked her flat by her ankles and fell heavily on top of her.
He braced his arms on either side of her head, hands brushing her hair from her face.
“Shhh, its okay,” he whispered, leaning down for another soul-stealing kiss that left Cordelia breathless, preventing her from thinking clearly. “Nothing matters anymore.”
He pushed her robe off her shoulders and reached up to pull his shirt over his head as she stared at him in disbelief, incredulity clearing away the cobwebs of desire Angel had weaved around her with his touch.
“Are you trying to lose your soul, Angel?”
He didn’t say yes, he didn’t have to.
It was there in his eyes.
She reached up and slapped him hard across the cheek.
“You’re trying to use me, to lose your soul?” She laughed harshly. “Boy howdy have you got the wrong girl, or don’t you remember the blonde you left in Sunnydale?”
He growled and grabbed both her hands, yanking them over her head, arching her body up into his. He was hard, pressing on her thigh, and heat shot through her belly.
“Or what about the blonde skank crawling around the edges of your dreams the last few months? Too busy running around killing innocent people to pay any attention to her darling boy?”
A small, mean smile lit his features and she recalled the moment Angelus tackled her in the graveyard four years ago. He’d had the same smile.
“I’m just giving you what you want, too, Cordy,” he breathed against her mouth, “you wanted me the other day in your new office, and if Wes hadn’t interrupted-“
“What, you’d have raped me then instead of now?”
He laughed softly, one knee rubbing her thigh before nudging her legs open, his body falling between her bent knees. The robe shifted, and his clothed hips pressed against her bare flesh, the friction stealing her breath and she tried not to gasp.
“Are you really gonna throw that word out there, Cordy,” he bent and ground his face against hers as his hips jerked against her center. “When I can smell how much you want me right now?”
“That’s not consent, Angel, that’s just basic friction,” she spit at him, furious with his vampire senses and-and- just him in general. His stupid issues and moodiness and despair and fuck him for making her fucking care still, goddammit.
She wanted to cry, to stake him, to scream at him, to pull him down and fuck the black despair from his eyes.
She opened her mouth for his next kiss, welcomed his tongue with her own and chased it back into his own mouth, listening to his moans, helping him shove his pants down past his hips, and freeing his cock and then it was inside her, breaking through the outer dryness into her wet heat, surging up to meet his thrusts with her own.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him all the way down on top of her and scratching her nails down his back as he tried to fuck her through the mattress.
“Angel.” She whispered fiercely when he lifted his head.
Mouth half open, eyes half closed, he stared down at her as she arched her head back against the pillow.
He bent his head again and ran his mouth up the side of her neck, licking like he was tasting fruit of the vine. He sucked hard on one particular spot and she wondered blindly if he was trying to draw the blood through her skin.
Big, cold hands cupped both her breasts and gently molded them in his palms, kneading in time with his thrusts.
Her breathing grew ragged as her belly and pelvis tightened, Angel’s pelvic bone grinding down on her sweet spot with the accuracy of a World Series winning pitch.
She opened her eyes and glanced up at the glazed look on his face, knowing he was going to come soon, too, letting the knowledge send her over that final precipice.
She froze, the spasms beginning in her clit and branching outwards, her uterus contracting with the force of her orgasm, and she clamped down hard on his hips with her legs, riding it.
He jerked violently, and started to come-
-she reached up and slapped him hard across the face.
His head snapped to the side as he shot inside of her, grunting with the combined pleasure/pain. She slapped him again even as she thrust her hips up at him, milking every drop of tremor and sensation she could from his body.
When he was done, slumped over her like a limp noodle, she shoved at his shoulders until he fell to the side and she rolled out from under him, scared that the distraction hadn’t worked.
His hand shot out and he grabbed her wrist, pulling her back down to the bed. She fell next to him.
He turned his face to look at her.
It was still Angel.
“Why did you slap me?”
She rolled her eyes, fury mixing with profound relief.
“You may want to commit suicide, Angel, but you aren’t taking me with you.”
“Don’t be stupid. What did you think would happen once your soul drifted off to the light?”
He blinked slowly, and for the first time, she saw shame in his gaze.
“Yeah, now you get it.”
He closed his eyes, pulled her closer to him and rested his head on her shoulder, his arm wrapping around her bare waist to hold her to him.
She sighed and stared up at the ceiling, slowly drawing patterns against his forearm with a fingernail.
“Whatever set you off-“
“Nothing set me off, Cordy, all I did was realize nothing we do matters. Evil is everywhere, and we aren’t enough to stop it. It will always be there.”
She turned her head to look at him.
“How could a vampire that’s lived as long as you be such a dumbass? If nothing we do matters, then all that matters is what we do, Angel. Wes and Gunn and I, we get that.” The tears started in the corners of her eyes and fell over the bridge of her nose, and down into her hair, making little wet tracks on her skin. “Can you get it, can that be enough?”
He stared at her for a long time, weighing her words, and then lifted a hand to her face, catching a tear with his finger and bringing it to his mouth to lick.
“I think so.”
She turned onto her side, facing him, giving him a blinding, if sleepy, smile.
“Good,” she replied. Then her eyes popped open with a fresh memory.
“Oh, and you owe me some new clothes, by the way, since you saw fit to give half my wardrobe to the homeless.”
The smile faded away and he frowned at her.
“Are we okay?”
She shook her head sadly.
“We’re not, not yet. You really hurt my feelings, so it’s gonna take a while.”
He brushed her hair back over her shoulder with his free hand, staring at her like she was his lifeline in a very big, very shark-filled ocean.
“I can wait.”
“Damn straight,” she muttered before closing her eyes a final time.
She fell asleep eventually, snoring softly into the linen.
Angel pulled the rest of his clothes off, peeled her robe out from under her and cacooned them both under the covers.
He wrapped his body around hers, watching her sleep until dawn.