Chapter 4
Author: Patricia & Ellen
Rating: NC-17 (overall story)
Spoilers: none
Summary: This is the Power of Three's answer to the AngelSlash St. Patrick's Day challenge.
Series Timeline: Sometime before 'Covenant'.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. If they were mine, Angel could go safely into the sun, Doyle would be a millionaire and Cordelia would be a famous movie star. And they would be together.
Thoughts between Angel, Doyle and Cordelia are marked //like this.//
A few minutes later, Angel reluctantly left the bed, to take his place on the chair. Before sitting down, he glanced at Doyle and Cordelia´s entwined forms. A smile appeared on his face as he thought how easy it would be to sketch such beauty. Doyle and Cordelia smiled back at him.
//Don´t move,// Angel said, leaving the bedroom.
//Not goin´ anywhere,// Doyle thought as he buried his face in Cordelia´s hair. Stretching just a little, she purred in contentment.
//Hey! What did I just say?// Angel exclaimed, trying to sound upset without any success.
//Sorry,// Cordelia and Doyle´s teasing thoughts came as one when Angel reappeared with his sketchpad and his artist´s tools. He sat down and opened the sketchpad to a clean sheet.
//Mmm. I tried to do some sketching once,// Cordelia sent drowsily. //Of course I had to draw a monster. Like, what else was there to draw in Sunnydale, right?//
//Things change,// Angel sent back. //There was a time when life was like that.//
//Ummm-hmmm.//
//Now there's something so beautiful here in front of me, that I don't know if I can ever quite get it down on paper.//
//You can take the boy out of the old country, but you can't take the old country out of the boy. Wasn't there a cigarette commercial like that once?//
//Doyle, you sure that you're not thirty yet?//
//Did I ever tell you guys about the fish thing with Xander?// Cordelia wondered, her fingers straying to toy with the hair on Doyle's chest. She shifted slightly, resting her face against his side, her lips gently brushing the warm skin.
Feeling the strong, steady vibration of his heartbeat, she shared her pleasure. //Oh, that's so good. That's just the sweetest sound in the world.//
Angel felt a twinge of memory. Buffy. Resolutely, he pushed away the thought.
Buffy was his past. These two were his future.
//Now don´t move,// he sent to them as he grabbed a pencil and started to capture their beautiful forms on the paper, sending them a mental image of what he was doing.
//Mmmm, how long are we supposed to stay still?// Cordelia asked.
//Until I give you permission to move.//
//Wait a minute here,// Doyle sent an amused protest. //We're s'posed to be tryin' your patience, not you tryin' ours.//
//Is that so?//
//Well, we can stay still, but we can still think about what we'd like to be doing,// Cordelia put in, with mischief in her thought.
//Tell him about the fish guys, then,// Angel distracted her.
//Oh yeah. Doyle, would you believe I thought Xander turned into a fish monster once? Not that he did, but hey, after the hyena thing, you know....//
Doyle sent, //Sunnydale must be quite an interestin' place to live.//
//You know,// Cordelia thought, unable to keep her hand from playing just a bit on Doyle's conveniently close chest. //Funny how it all turned out in the end.....//
//You're moving your hand, Cordelia.//
//Sorry.// Her thoughts were not at all contrite.
Soon he had an outline of their tangled bodies. It was time to work on the details. He was gentle at first, the pencil sliding on the paper like a lover´s caress. As he traced the gorgeous yet slightly rough features of Doyle´s face, the vampire realized that Cordelia´s hand had moved from Doyle´s waist to her own belly, where she gently touched her scar.
//You are not going to put this in the drawing, are you?// She asked, a little fear in her voice. Angel smiled sweetly, his eyes filled with love and understanding.
/Yes, I am. I think it´s beautiful, it´s a part of you,// he said before sending them a mental image of his cool lips kissing that sensitive area. //We all have our scars. That's the way we know how lucky we are.//
The two people on the bed shivered, as if Angel´s lips were on their skin. Doyle held Cordelia´s hand, his fingers barely touching her scar, before placing the little hand back on his waist.
"I agree. You´re our perfect princess," he spoke aloud to her, his voice as gentle as his touch, as he stroked her hair. //We love every bit of you. Just exactly how you are.// He sent a picture of exactly what how he wanted to prove it to her.
Angel groaned softly.
//I won´t be able to finish like this.//
//That´s the idea,// Doyle said, smiling at him. //We´re goin' to be tryin' your patience now.//
//Doyle...// Angel´s thoughts were interrupted by Cordelia´s mental images. She was sending a vivid imagining of her tongue blazing a trail of heat along his body.
//What's that they say? Turnabout is fair play?// Doyle teased. //Go for it, darlin'. Make him squirm.//
She was thinking about working her way up from his ankles with her mouth, heading toward his inner thighs. God, the things she thought.
Doyle joined in the game, sending the image of his own caress, of teasing Angel lightly with lips and teeth, of where he'd be sliding his hand and just exactly where his fingers would be gently stroking.
//Stubborn vampire,// Doyle sent. //Think you can resist us, eh?//
//Not... that.//
Angel let the sketchpad and pencil fall on the floor and threw his head back, closing his eyes and moaning.
//Doyle... Cordelia...//
//Feels good, doesn´t it?// she said.
//Yes.//
//It seems to me like you´re not as patient as you made us think,// she teased, sending him even more mental images of what she wanted to do with him.
Now that Doyle had allied with her in the battle to wear Angel down, he found it impossible to concentrate. He tried to pick up the sketchpad and resume his sketching, but his lovers were making it way too difficult. They were also having far too much fun in the process.
He wouldn't have missed it for the world.
When he finally gave in and got up from the chair, to be welcomed into their arms and wrapped in the warmth of their bodies, he knew, without a moment's doubt, that this was where he belonged.
Now, and for always, they were and would be his soul's home.
The End
