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ANYWHERE BUT HERE
by Yseult deBreton
RATING: R (with an occasional descent
into NC-17)
TIMELINE: Sometime after "Revelations" and
before "The Prom"
SUMMARY: Yseult does fluff. Buffy and Angel do
fluff. Yeah. That’s better. No angst. I promise. Well, maybe a little
angst.
AUTHOR’S NOTE (1): This story is part of the
"Variations on a Theme ~ Water" series.
AUTHOR’S NOTE (2): Thoughts are in italics.
DATE OF COMPLETION: 16 August 2003
DISTRIBUTION: List archives, Stormy Weather, Ducks BB,
Scribes of Angel, Yseult’s Passion, and my permission.
DISCLAIMER: [insert maniacal laughter here]
FEEDBACK: Absolutely craved. Send it to yseultdb@yahoo.com
Buffy woke at 8:20 a.m. and panicked. I’m late. Then she
remembered that today’s classes had been cancelled. It was Professional
Development Day. Her teachers were in educational workshops. Giles too.
She had a free day, a day for herself, a day to do anything she wanted. A
whole day to spend with Angel. Yum! After she showered, she dressed
quickly, donning the blouse and pants she’d selected last night. She stood
before the mirror and eyeballed her head. The weather report said the rain
would last all day. That translated into funny Buffy hair. Buffy twisted
the wet strands and scanned the top of her dresser for a giant jaw clip.
Then she surveyed the overall result. She looked casual but stylish which
was the effect she desired. She wanted to be Casual Buffy Visiting Angel
not Sex-Starved Buffy Visiting Angel.
She grabbed an umbrella and her knapsack and ran into the rain. When she
arrived at the mansion, she was cold and damp. She paused at the door. 9:35
a.m. Angel should be sleeping. Buffy quietly opened the door and
slipped into the darkened house. After her eyes adjusted to the reduced
light, she made her way to Angel’s bedroom. He wasn’t there. That’s
weird. Where’d he go?
Buffy wandered back into the great room. She had specifically told Angel
that classes had been cancelled, Giles was busy, and that her mom would be
at the gallery. She had done everything but say "Let’s spend the day
together." Crap. She should have said "Let’s spend the
day together." Typical male. Can’t take a hint unless it comes
with a two by four. Buffy reasoned that he couldn’t have gone far. She
would just have to wait. She scanned the room and got an idea. She would
build a fire, light some candles, and put some music on. She’d brought her
portable CD player and a stack of CDs. She was going to get some romance if
she had to manufacture every last bit of it.
*****
How does Angel do this? Buffy wondered as she watched her
carefully built fire send waves of smoke into the mansion’s great room. She
went over the process in her head. She had stacked the wood in a
pyramid-like structure. She had crunched newspaper into wads and stuck them
in the open spaces amongst the logs. She had lit the match and watched the
flames shoot into the chimney. All exactly as she’d seen Angel do countless
times. So why am I sending smoke signals? Buffy closed her tearing
eyes and pictured Angel making a fire. The truth was that she had paid far
more attention to the way his body moved as he built a fire rather than to
what he did.
"Should I call the fire department?"
Buffy shrieked and spun on her heel. Angel was leaning against a wall,
arms folded, with his head tilted to one side as he watched the smoke
billow into his home. Drops of rain fell from his coat
"What?! No, I can do this. I think." Buffy turned back to the
fire and coughed as another cloud of smoke wafted into the room. "Or
you could stop smirking and come over here and help me."
Angel’s voice whispered in her ear, "Only if you promise to stop
pouting." He moved towards the fire and turned a recessed handle that
opened the chimney’s flue. The smoke began to recede and dissipate. He also
opened the patio doors. The smell of falling rain filled the room.
"You know it works better if you use a blanket." Angel hung
his dripping coat over the back of a chair and shook the water from his
hair.
"What does?" Buffy didn’t know what he was talking about.
"Smoke signals. You use the blanket to cover and uncover the smoke.
Also, the smoke? It needs to be much darker so it can be seen far
away." He paused as he caught her glare, then added hopefully, "I
love you. Come here."
Reluctantly, Buffy walked over to him and pouted at the floor. "You
know, one day you’re going to trip over that lip." Angel kissed her
forehead. "I do love you. What are you doing here? Why aren’t you in
school?"
Buffy glared at him again before moving out of his reach.
"Now what?" Angel didn’t think she was still upset about the
fire.
"Angel, I told you I don’t have school today. I’ve been telling you
all week. God. You really are just like a regular boyfriend. I even told
you last night when you walked me—" She stopped abruptly as she saw
the half-smile he was trying to hide. Buffy took a deep breath. "No,
I’m not paranoid at all. It just threw me that you weren’t here, that’s
all."
"I went out to get some things for you." Angel pointed to the
grocery bags on the floor. "Unless you plan to drink blood all
day."
Buffy knelt and browsed through the bags. "Hey, you got all my
favourite stuff. You didn’t have to." She smiled at him. "But
thank you."
"You’re welcome. Come on. You can tell me how we’re going to spend
the day while I put everything away."
*****
Buffy giggled as Angel brushed a stray strand of hair off her shoulder.
"This feels weird. Why am I doing this again?"
Angel ran his tongue over her lips before he stepped back. "Because
I asked you to. And you love me. Now don’t move."
He returned to the couch and picked up his drawing pad and charcoal. He
sketched the bare outlines of her face and hair before drawing in her
eyebrows, eyes, nose, and mouth. "You’re moving," he growled as
Buffy wrinkled her nose.
"That’s because I have to sneeze."
"Don’t," he commanded as he drew her shoulders and arms.
"Easy for you to say,. Mister I-Don’t-Need-To-Breathe. Your opinion
doesn’t count."
"Shhh." He sketched the swell of her breasts and used his
thumbs to smudge the areola around her nipples.
"Which part are you drawing now?" It had taken Angel twenty
minutes to pose her on the floor in front of the fire. It would have taken
him five minutes if he had ignored her pleas for kisses. At one point he
had been laying on top of her, his erection pressing earnestly between her
thighs. That’s when he’d decided to put some distance between them.
"Can I move now?"
"No." Angel added depth and texture to her skin.
"How long do I need to stay like this?" Buffy was secretly
enjoying the attention. Angel was staring at her in a manner she had never
experienced. "Can I talk?"
"Can I stop you?"
"Yes. Maybe. Wanna try?" She uttered the last two words with a
thoaty voice. So far the highlight of her day had been Angel’s very firm
body pressing her into the floor. She had been disappointed when he’d
suddenly backed off, but she understood why.
"I’m almost done." Buffy’s gaze wandered around the room and
stopped at her lover. His hair was mussed where she had run her hands
through it. He had a trace of pale pink lipstick on his ears. His shirt
hung open enough that she could glimpse one of his nipples. The erection
that she’d felt between her thighs was hidden by the drawing pad. Angel’s
face was serious as he concentrated on his sketch. She’d never seen him do
this before. Buffy was mesmerized by the way his hands moved naturally
across the paper. He knew what he was doing; confidence radiated from his
body.
"I love you," she whispered.
Angel’s hand froze on the page. "I know," he replied.
"I’ve always known."
A few minutes later he ripped the page from the pad with a flourish and
approached her. "Okay, now don’t be mad when you see it."
Buffy frowned as she sat up. "Why would I be mad? As long as it’s
not all creepy looking, I’m sure it’s fine." Then she saw the picture.
Her eyes widened as she took in the details. "Holy shit. But I didn’t—
That’s not what I— Angel, I’m naked. You drew me naked!"
"You don’t like it?" he asked. He had drawn the Buffy he
dreamed of nightly: nude and lying in his bed.
"It’s not that I don’t like it, but… you even drew the birthmark on
my— You’ve only ever seen it once. That I know of." She looked at him
with suspicion.
Angel ignored her and picked up the drawing pad and charcoal.
"Angel?" Buffy’s voice was quiet but insistent.
"It’s how I remember you. Whenever it rains, I think about that
night. That’s what I hung onto in Hell." Angel’s back was toward her
so she couldn’t see the pain in his eyes. She heard it in his voice.
"Oh."
Long minutes passed. They could hear the rain pounding on the roof.
Finally, Angel turned around. Buffy was still gazing at the picture.
"Angel, it’s beautiful. You made me beautiful." Her voice was
soft beneath the sound of rain. She lifted her eyes to his face and raised
an eyebrow. "Want to see how accurate it is?"
"Oh god," groaned Angel.
*****
An hour later there were multiple sketches of Buffy strewn on the floor.
If they were lined up in the order in which they were drawn, they would
have shown her in various stages of undress. The last picture was an
incomplete sketch of the intimate area between her thighs. Buffy did not
know that he had drawn this as she sat cross-legged on the floor.
There were also several pictures of Angel that were not as artistic.
Where Buffy lacked natural skill, she compensated with crude detail. The
more clothes Angel removed, the larger his erection (on paper) had grown.
He had discarded his last sketch when he observed that Buffy’s pictures
lacked a certain perspective.
They sat naked in front of the fire enjoying lunch. Angel fed a
blindfolded Buffy selections of cheese, fruit, and vegetables. Since he
didn’t eat, she couldn’t return the favour. She was speculating on what she
could do when they heard a large crash of thunder directly over the
mansion. Buffy quickly pulled the blindfold from her eyes and glanced at
Angel.
"It’s just thunder," he said.
"You don’t do thunder." She saw lightning streak across the
window and waited for the accompanying roll of noise. "It wasn’t
supposed to storm today. The radio said rain. They didn’t say anything
about thunder." She ran her hand over his face and down his chest.
"Don’t think about the storm."
"What should I think about?" Angel’s hands slid over her hips
and squeezed her waist.
Buffy leaned towards him. She licked the skin over his sternum and
suckled the soft flesh at the top of his collarbone.
"Me," she whispered before she tasted his nipples.
Angel’s hands combed her hair and guided her mouth to his lips. This
kiss was different from the others they had shared today. It was more
intense, more hungry, more desperate. Buffy panicked and pulled out of the
kiss.
"Or maybe not me. Angel, we can’t."
Angel wasn’t listening. He caught her mouth in another kiss and pulled
her onto his lap. Her breasts brushed freely against his chest. As the kiss
deepened, Buffy arched her back and pushed his hands up her body until they
cupped each breast. His thumbs slowly stroked the nipples until they were
hard sensitive tips of need.
Buffy broke the kiss. "More, Angel, I want more," she
breathed.
"Tell me what you want."
"Touch me. Make me scream." She inhaled sharply as his tongue
flicked and swirled over one nipple and then the other. Between Angel’s
tongue and his hands, he soon had her screaming in reckless pleasure. She
ground her groin against his erection.
"Did you like?" he said after she caught her breath.
"I always like when you kiss me like that."
"You know, there are other places I can kiss you." It had been
months since Angel had held Buffy this close. He missed the intensity of
this feeling and he wanted to prolong it. "For instance, I can kiss
you here." His lips brushed the strong artery in her neck. "Or
here." Angel kissed the soft spot just below her breastbone. "Or
here". He lay her on the floor and spent a lazy minute with her navel.
"Or here." He slowly kissed a line to the crown of curls that
covered her sex. His nose ploughed through the wiry hair and was almost
smashed by the swift closure of Buffy’s legs.
"You can’t kiss me there," she protested.
"Why not? I’ve been there before." Angel smiled at the rush of
blood that flooded her cheeks.
"That’s different. That was fingers and… other stuff. Not—"
She turned her face to the fire.
"Buffy, look at me. Look at me," Angel’s gentle voice was
persuasive. She looked at him and chewed her lower lip. "I’m not going
to do anything that you don’t want. I never have. I never will. Do you
trust me?"
"Yes." She spoke in a hushed voice.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," she repeated with a little more confidence.
"Then relax and let me kiss you." Angel waited until she
opened her legs before ducking his head between them. He lay his cheek on
her thigh and didn’t move.
Finally, Buffy spoke, "Aren’t you supposed to do something when
you’re there?"
Angel smiled. "I’m admiring the view."
"Okay."
Several minutes passed before Buffy asked, "Is it a changing view?
Because if it is, maybe I need to see a doctor."
Angel’s reply was a tentative parting of her outer lips with his tongue.
Buffy squirmed. "That tickles," she giggled. When his tongue
parted her inner lips, she squirmed again. "Still tickling. Is it
supposed to tickle? I thought it was supposed to, I dunno, make me all hot
and bothered and then I dissolve into a big puddle of mush, oohing and
aahing where appropriate. Because this is just ticklish and everything I’ve
read says it’s not supposed to do that."
Angel raised his head. "Do I need to gag you?" It was worth it
to see the horrified look on Buffy’s face.
"Wait a minute. You didn’t say anything about bondage." She
saw the amusement in Angel’s eyes. "I’ll just shut up now."
She watched his head slip back between her legs and closed her eyes. Relax,
Buffy. Just relax. Millions of women do this every day and live to talk about
it. She felt his tongue slide past the outer and inner lips again.
When it glided over her clit, she nearly screamed. The sensation was
incredible. It didn’t tickle at all, it was pure pleasure. As Angel
continued to play, lick, suckle, and tease the supersensitive area, Buffy
clenched her jaw until she thought her teeth would break. Her thighs rested
on Angel’s shoulders; his arms were wrapped around them and held her down.
As the urge to scream grew stronger, the waves of pleasure continued to
build until she could no longer resist.
The next pass of Angel’s tongue over her clit sent her crashing headlong
into an orgasm. Her keening screech as she came sounded loud even to her
ears. As she recovered at the bottom of that trough of ecstasy, Angel’s
arms clamped tighter around her hips. With a start, she realized that the
pressure at her entrance was his tongue. She came again, harder than
before, begging him to never stop.
Angel finally released her and rested his head on her flushed breasts.
His tongue snaked out and snagged a nipple. He suckled quietly and
patiently until her breathing returned to normal.
"Oh. My. God." Buffy’s voice was cracked and throaty. She
cleared her throat. "Wow. That was. Wow. I didn’t know that you could
do that. I mean, I knew that you could, I just didn’t know that I could,
you know, do That." She couldn’t think straight, which was why she
blurted out, "Gives me a whole new appreciation of the phrase
‘tongue-fucked’. Oh, god. Did I just say that out loud?" She gazed
into Angel’s mahogany eyes, "Never tell me where you learned to do
that. I don’t want to know."
Angel chuckled and stretched out before the fire. God, he’s
beautiful. How did I get so lucky?
*****
Buffy spent the next hour learning about the male anatomy. Unlike her
Human Development class, she could actually touch the relevant parts. Also,
as an added bonus, she learned where Angel liked to be kissed.
It had started out as an educational exercise. Except for the night she
lost her virginity, Buffy had never actually put her hands on Angel’s cock.
She’d had plenty of opportunity to view it all day, but she’d made no move
to touch it. Angel had been happy to lie on the floor so he could be
inspected by Buffy. He forced himself to lie still when she wrapped one
hand around his shaft. He didn’t shudder with pleasure as Buffy gently
pushed the foreskin back. It was when her tongue glided over the head that
he nearly came apart.
"Buffy, you have to stop. You can’t do this."
She used her Slayer strength to keep his chest on the floor. "Why
not? You got to kiss me in unmentionable places." Buffy moved her
tongue around the head and licked down to the base of his cock.
Angel groaned and through gritted teeth muttered, "You don’t know
what you’re doing."
Buffy stopped licking and scooted up his chest while keeping one hand
firmly around his cock. "So teach me."
"What?" He couldn’t concentrate with her hand stroking up and
down like that.
"Teach me, Angel. Who else am I gonna ask? Xander?" That
earned her a growl of displeasure.
As it turned out, Buffy really didn’t need much instruction beyond
"Lick. Suck. Swirl. Don’t stop." Angel’s moans guided her the
rest of the way. At first, she had to fight her gag reflex, but he told her
how to relax her throat. Soon she felt his body bucking beneath her and
heard him say, "God, Buffy, I’m coming". His cool seed exploded
into her mouth and trickled down her throat. She swallowed instinctively.
When she thought he could talk, she asked, "Do all men taste like
that?"
Angel removed the arm that was covering his face and tucked it behind
his head. "Do you really want me to answer that?"
No, I don’t. Next question.
"Did I do it right?" Angel had sounded like he enjoyed it, but
she wasn’t sure how much was due to him just coming and how much was due to
her.
"If I said you could use some practice, do you promise not to take
it the wrong way?"
Buffy smiled. "I’m thinking that practice is probably a good
thing." She glanced at the clock on the table. "Looks like it’s
time for me to go home."
She sighed and got wearily to her feet. Angel watched her dress without
the awkwardness she’d shown earlier when she’d removed her clothes. He
pulled on his pants and walked her to the door where they kissed hungrily. He
even makes kissing seem like art.
"Angel," she whispered. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For everything. You have no idea how much this day means to
me." Buffy opened the door and was about to step into the drizzling
rain when Angel pulled her back.
"Don’t you want your picture?" A wicked grin graced his face.
Buffy glanced at the picture propped by the fireplace. "You keep
it. Somewhere where no one will see it." The rain turned from a
drizzle to a sudden downpour. She brushed her lips against his and left.
*****
"Wow!" said Willow. "Wow! Wow! Buffy, you would really do
that? Can you do that? I mean I know you can do that, but can you do
that? Won’t Angel lose his soul?"
"Beautiful ladies, what are we talking about? And, Willow, why do
you look shell shocked?" Xander slid an arm around each girl as they
huddled under the overhang and watched the rain fall.
"We were playing ‘Anywhere but Here’ and Buffy—" began Willow.
"You know my answer," said Xander.
"Amy Yip at the waterslide," the girls chorused.
"It never changes, Xander," Buffy rolled her eyes and began to
gather her belongings as she spied her mom’s car pull up to the curb.
"Why ruin a perfectly good fantasy?" he retorted. "What’s
Buffy’s latest? Something bad with Angel?" He turned to Buffy.
"Wait a minute. You can’t do anything bad with Angel because then we
have bad Angel. And can I emphasize how much we don’t want bad Angel?"
"Relax, Xander," comforted Willow. "It’s just a
fantasy." Buffy smiled to herself as she heard the crash of thunder.
"It is just a fantasy, right, Buffy? Buffy?" Buffy’s smile grew
bigger as she opened her umbrella and stepped into the rain.
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