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Angel chose that moment to walk into the office. Turning, he caught Doyle's speculative gaze. "What?" "I was under the impression everyone reacted the same to the vampire bite," he commented. "They do," Angel responded. "This," Doyle tapped the tome, "implies differently." "Well, being in terror for your life tends to overwhelm any other response." "And you've never had a willing victim?" Doyle asked. "When I was prepared to make victims of people, I didn't want them willing," Angel pointed out, refusing to think of Buffy. "Why is it vampires only drink human blood?" Doyle continued, fighting to keep his tone casual. Angel's eyes narrowed suspiciously, but he answered. "Because it tastes better." Doyle affected surprise. "I thought all blood tasted the same." "No. Demon blood tastes terrible. Animal blood is just palatable. Human blood is the best," Angel elaborated. "Why?" "Just curious." "All of a sudden?" "It's the reading. Gets the brain working," Doyle smiled. After a quiet moment, he continued, aware that the next question would give him away. "If you had one - a willing victim, that is - do you think you could stop drinking before you drained them completely?" "I don't know, and I have no intention of finding out," Angel's voice was hard, uncompromising. "I didn't suggest-" "You were going to," the vampire interrupted. "And the answer is no." "You said yourself that demon blood tastes terrible," Doyle insisted. "Surely you'd be able to stop in time if you didn't even like what you were drinking." "You're only half demon and I'm not going to risk it!" Angel moved as if to leave. "Are you willing to risk me going elsewhere to find out?" Doyle called, not turning to watch him leave. That stopped Angel in his tracks. He turned back to Doyle slowly. "You want to know that badly?" The half demon stood slowly, using the time it took to rise from the chair and come to stand leaning against its back to gather himself. After a long moment, he met Angel's eyes, hoping desperately that he wouldn't see the bluff there. Doyle wanted to know what his own reaction to the vampire bite would be with a morbid but penetrating curiosity, but he knew Angel was the only vampire he'd be able to hold still for. "Yes," he said. It happened too fast for him to follow. One moment Angel was standing in front of him, watching him with incredulous, worried eyes and the next he was in full vampire form, gripping the other man by the shoulders. Doyle stiffened for a moment in surprise, then forced himself to relax. Fighting down the fear, he forced the tension out of his frame and let his head fall to one side, exposing his neck. Angel hesitated and Doyle realized that the lunge had been intended as bluff, but he'd called it, his own bluff successful. The hesitation threatened to turn into a withdrawal, so Doyle released his death grip on the back of the chair he was leaning against and clasped the back of Angel's neck, drawing the vampire down the last inch. Doyle knew that Angel was strong enough to break free, but he was betting that the blood rushing by just beneath his skin would be too much temptation. Then it didn't matter, nothing mattered but the warm lips that closed over the pulse point in his neck... There was a slight stab of pain as Angel's fangs broke the skin, but it was quickly washed away in a flood of the most intense pleasure Doyle had ever experienced. He had to bite back a gasp, not wanting Angel to hear it and stop, and then he had to bite back a moan because his body was on fire. Pure ecstasy was flowing through his veins and pooling in his groin. He was so hard he thought he'd come if he moved enough to rub against the fabric of his jeans. He wanted it to go on forever and he wanted more at the same time. So much more... The pleasure of the vampire bite woke Doyle's own desire and gave it strength. He wanted to touch Angel, to give back the burning pleasure and gain satisfaction in return. He wanted...wanted...just wanted. Wanted Angel. Doyle felt the pressure on his throat lessen and had to tightly grip the chair he was leaning on to prevent himself from reaching up to hold Angel in place. The vampire's lips left his throat reluctantly but firmly. Doyle all but moaned as he felt the warm, wet touch of Angel's tongue caress his neck, taking a trickle of blood with it. After a long moment Doyle opened eyes he hadn't even realized he'd closed. Slowly, he met Angel's gaze, raising a hand to touch the twin punctures on his neck as he did so. Angel looked relieved, a little guilty and, as Doyle's fingers brush the wounds, startled to see him shudder with pleasure. "Doyle...?" Angel asked, his voice rough, his features contorted with worry. "Are you all right?" Doyle had to laugh. What a picture he must make, his knees so weak he had to prop himself up, his face flushed, his breath coming in harsh pants, sporting a hard on that felt like it would never go away...and there was Angel, asking if he was okay. "I will be," he said, "if you'll do one thing for me." Angel nodded, guilt beginning to touch his expression. Doyle forced himself to stand without the aid of the chair and stepped closer to Angel. "Do that again." Angel stepped back as sharply as though he'd been struck. "What?" Doyle had to restrain a sigh. "Angel. Do I look like I had a problem with what just happened here?" Angel hesitated, but shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I shouldn't have...I can't drink from you." "Can't or won't?" Doyle asked, but the vampire had disappeared in the elevator down to his apartment. Doyle went after him, but the elevator was already in motion. Not wanting to lose Angel to his brooding, the half demon ran down the stairs instead. He caught him as he stepped out of the elevator. "Listen, not doing it because you don't want to is one thing. Not doing it because you're afraid is another." Pausing for a moment in his determined strides toward the kitchen, Angel turned to Doyle and looked at him almost sadly. "But they're both a reason not to do it." "Yeah, but one of them means I have to back off and the other one means I can wear you down," Doyle pointed out, grinning a little as he followed Angel. The vampire made no reply, instead opening his fridge to reveal several plastic bags filled with what Doyle could only assume to be blood. Angel picked up one of the bags and hesitated for a moment, then drank until it was empty. If he was hoping to dissuade Doyle with the action, it wasn't working. "Just tell me one thing," Doyle went on insistently, following Angel from the kitchen through the main room. "Is it that you don't want me, or that you're afraid you'll hurt me?" Angel stopped walking abruptly and turned to face the man dogging his steps. "I can't hurt you," he said quietly. "Well, then," Doyle answered and, when Angel would have turned away, grabbed the vampire by the edges of his open jacket and pulled him into a kiss. He'd caught Angel off guard and Doyle took advantage of that, sliding his tongue past the vampire's parted lips. The kiss tasted faintly of blood but, strangely, the iron tang didn't bother Doyle. He deepened the caress, doing his best to make Angel not want to break the contact. It worked, because Angel was kissing back now, one hand coming slowly to rest on Doyle's hip. The half demon was rapidly running out of breath, but he couldn't let Angel go, couldn't give up his advantage and let the vampire talk himself out of this. So he tried to forget his need to breathe and drew Angel towards his bed instead. Doyle felt the bed bump up against his calves and had to break the kiss then, but he hung onto Angel's coat as he sucked in a breath. "Doyle, I can't-" Doyle cut off the protest with another, much briefer kiss and turned them so that Angel was trapped between the bed and Doyle's body. Angel opened his mouth for another protest and Doyle cut him off. "This is my risk to take, my decision to make, and I've made it. Now shut up." Doyle had stripped off Angel's coat and was working on his shirt before the other man seemed to fully absorb the words. Then, after a slight hesitation, he reached out to help Doyle shed his own clothing. The action threatened the little control Doyle had managed to regain after their encounter in the office above. He forced his attention away from the hands working at the zipper of his jeans to the smooth skin under his touch, the nipples that pebbled under his touch, the gasp that that caress drew. Finally, skin to skin, no barriers between them, Doyle pushed Angel down onto the bed. He took a moment to study the man spread before him, a little smile unconsciously curving his lips. As he watched Angel, his heated gazed capturing Doyle's, placed his feet flat on the mattress and glanced towards the bedside table. The smile widened into a grin and Doyle went quickly to the table, fishing a small tube out of the drawer and returning to the bed to kneel between Angel's spread thighs. Leaning forward, he kissed Angel and for the first time felt the hunger in the other man's lips, felt the thighs closing to hold his hips. Doyle slicked one finger with the lube and nibbled on Angel's neck even as he reached down to prepare his lover. Angel moaned loudly and Doyle couldn't tell if it was in reaction to the caress of his neck or to the finger because he was relaxed, open and the digit had slid easily all the way in... Hanging tightly onto his control, Doyle tried desperately to calm down despite the man writhing beneath him and the hot channel that now gripped two fingers because it was too soon, too soon! He gasped for breath and crooked his fingers, brushing against Angel's prostate. The touch tore a cry of pleasure from the other man and it had to be now, he couldn't hold on much longer. Angel evidently agreed with him because he was trying to pull Doyle closer, pleading in broken sentences for more, now, please! Carefully, resisting Angel's tugs because he didn't want to hurt his lover anymore than his lover wanted to hurt him, Doyle positioned himself and pushed into the other man. Angel's back was arched a little as he strained to meet Doyle's deepening thrusts but his position offered him no leverage and he whimpered, a sound filled with mingled pleasure and frustration. Buried within Angel, Doyle took a moment to get a firmed grip on his control and then he withdrew, just a little, and thrust in again. Again, he pulled out and plunged back, his own cries of pleasure joining Angel's. Doyle buried himself once more in his lover but before he could withdraw Angel stopped him, the hand on his shoulder the only warning he had before the vampire's fangs pierced his skin. Doyle screamed Angel's name, not in pain but in pleasure, and came so hard he though he would pass out. But he hung onto to consciousness because there was no way in hell he was going to let Angel think he had hurt him. After a long moment in which the world consisted of nothing more than his own pleasure, Doyle realized that Angel had come as well. Struggling to regain control of his breathing, Doyle slowly relaxed. He lay atop his lover, still trembling a little with pleasure, and savored the touch of the smooth skin beneath him. Angel was absently stroking his neck, fingers brushing the puncture marks in the column. Doyle didn't think he'd have a hard time convincing the vampire to repeat the experience. |