Ficlet: "That One Moment" (S4: Awakening)
Umm... yeah. I don't really know where this came from. Partly a discussion about "actual" canon versus "Buffy/Angel" canon I had with another mun. Partly a B/A rp I was reading... And a huge helping of not-enough-sleep/I-should-be-sleeping-now. Oh, and doing 'research' on Angel.
There was always that one moment. That one spot, just at the edge of bliss, where you don't have any control over your mind. Emotions and need and lust fuel you, and for that one instant, you let go of everything, and just feel, and your mind and heart find something to give you that small little push that will send you over the edge, into the abyss of ecstasy.
If your fortunate, that thought is about your partner, your significant other, your lover. It might be about your one-night stand. It might be about a celebrity. It might be about someone you haven't seen, or spoken to in years, decades. Someone who's dead. Some other one-night-stand that you've never been able to recapture, but had turned out to be the best sex of your life.
Sometimes, it was reassuring. To know that even in that moment of pure release, you're thinking of your partner. It might be thrilling, realizing that even when you're fucking one person, you're getting off because of someone else. It could be mortifying, seeing just who your mind conjures up for you to get your rocks off.
Angel wasn't sure about this. It was an odd mixture of mortifying, and oddly comforting. His partner's face was not what he saw in his mind in that instant. He'd seen blonde hair, coral pink lips parted in a soft, breathy gasp as her back arched off the bed, crimson sheets pooling around their entwined bodies. It had been the most perfect night of his existence, and he didn't think it would--could--ever be replicated, or topped. But, it wasn't the woman he was buried deep inside of at that moment. So, with the mortification. But, she never had to know what he fantasized. Most partners never did, and were all the happier for it.
Unless, of course, he happened to gasp out the other woman's name. How was he ever going to face her after this? She'd just given him her body, her love, and he acted like a completely insensitive clod and called out another woman's name.
Or, that's what he would be thinking, if he were still there to think about it.
Angelus, on the other hand, was neither comforted, nor mortified. He was merely very amused. For more reasons than one, seeing as how even when she was hundreds of miles away, Buffy Summers was still the reason he was free in this body again. He really would have to send her flowers. No, chocolate. Girls liked chocolate. Definitely chocolate.
Angelus started laughing, even as he lay strapped to the table inside his cage.
There was always that one moment. That one spot, just at the edge of bliss, where you don't have any control over your mind. Emotions and need and lust fuel you, and for that one instant, you let go of everything, and just feel, and your mind and heart find something to give you that small little push that will send you over the edge, into the abyss of ecstasy.
If your fortunate, that thought is about your partner, your significant other, your lover. It might be about your one-night stand. It might be about a celebrity. It might be about someone you haven't seen, or spoken to in years, decades. Someone who's dead. Some other one-night-stand that you've never been able to recapture, but had turned out to be the best sex of your life.
Sometimes, it was reassuring. To know that even in that moment of pure release, you're thinking of your partner. It might be thrilling, realizing that even when you're fucking one person, you're getting off because of someone else. It could be mortifying, seeing just who your mind conjures up for you to get your rocks off.
Angel wasn't sure about this. It was an odd mixture of mortifying, and oddly comforting. His partner's face was not what he saw in his mind in that instant. He'd seen blonde hair, coral pink lips parted in a soft, breathy gasp as her back arched off the bed, crimson sheets pooling around their entwined bodies. It had been the most perfect night of his existence, and he didn't think it would--could--ever be replicated, or topped. But, it wasn't the woman he was buried deep inside of at that moment. So, with the mortification. But, she never had to know what he fantasized. Most partners never did, and were all the happier for it.
Unless, of course, he happened to gasp out the other woman's name. How was he ever going to face her after this? She'd just given him her body, her love, and he acted like a completely insensitive clod and called out another woman's name.
Or, that's what he would be thinking, if he were still there to think about it.
Angelus, on the other hand, was neither comforted, nor mortified. He was merely very amused. For more reasons than one, seeing as how even when she was hundreds of miles away, Buffy Summers was still the reason he was free in this body again. He really would have to send her flowers. No, chocolate. Girls liked chocolate. Definitely chocolate.
Angelus started laughing, even as he lay strapped to the table inside his cage.