If Angel hadn't known better, he would have sworn Doyle had been setting him up right from the start. The Irishman was smart enough. Wily enough. Devious enough. And just maybe, foolish enough. It was only Angels long standing inability to recognize his own worth that made him dismiss the notion completely as pure ego. So, Cordelia had told him the half demon found him *attractive*. That didn't make it any more likely that he had... Ok, so maybe it did. In the end, though, the vampire had to concede it was the bong that did him in.

It had been a hellacious week. Literally. Demons and lawyers and policewomen .....and it was getting hard to tell them all apart. Angel had carelessly commented in front of his employees that he would *kill* for some down time. At their incredulous exchange of glances, he had quickly amended. "Not kill as in KILL!" But they had only looked more incredulous.

Cordelia broke the stupefied silence. "Oh its not that, Mr. Broody. I just never thought Id hear you admit you *want* to relax!" This followed by a near half hour of gleeful suggestions ranging from bubble baths to bowling. Angel was leaning toward bubblebaths, but his co-workers apparently felt compelled to participate in some sort of group activity.

The vampire shook his head. "No mortal bonding. Im going home to relax. You two have fun without me".

Cordelia sniffed. "Like *that* would be a problem. You could suck the oxygen from a room. And who said anything about bondage?"

Angel looked confused, but firmly shut the elevator door behind him, and leaned into the blissful, silent darkness of his apartment.

The vampire was walking toward the kitchen when he felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck. He turned swiftly, revealing full game face to the soon to be unfortunate intruder.

Who promptly about pissed his pants. "Angel! Down boy!" the brogue was unmistakable, even if Angels cat eyes couldn't make out the slight form in the half light.

"Doyle?! How the hell did you get in here? Why the hell did you get in here?"

"As for the first, the unexplained is all around ya, man. As for the last, I knew you wouldn't go out. So here I am. Consider me relaxing company."

"Doyle, your presence is about as relaxing as root canal." Angel commented dryly, before opening the door to his fridge and pulling out a bag of Type O Positive.

"Wow, considering your dental state, that'd be pretty painful. Im touched at the comparison".

Angel bared said fangs in reply, and tore into the plastic sack, grimacing at its chill. Normally he would heat it first. Normally he wouldn't drink the human stuff, actually. But he was tense. He could feel all his insides shaking. Maybe killing to relax hadn't been mere metaphor.

"Man, you look tense", Doyle mentioned casually, blissfully ignoring the grotesque tableau of slurping vampire.

"You have a firm grasp on the obvious Doyle. And this is supposed to be relaxing me how?"

By way of answer, the half demon held up a large satchel with his free hand.

"You're going to hit me over the head with something heavy?" Angel asked seriously.

"Only if you're a really bad boy. This is much better than violence, man. This is --" he finished by pulling out the contents with flourish and holding them up for Angels appraisal.

"Uh.. Ok. You're going to force me to drink soda, stake me and then put me in a small garbage can with that other little bag of ashes? I suppose dead is pretty mellow...."  Angel mused while popping another bag into the microwave. Now that the ravenous hunger had been somewhat slaked he could wait the thirty seconds for the --

((BEEP!)) He pulled the precious bundle to his lips while the Irishman spoke.

Doyle was incredulous. "Bag of ashes? You really have been outta the loop, haven't ya? Where'd you spend the sixties anyway?"

"Mostly eating stray dogs in alleyways and generally feeling like shit. Thanks for reminding me, though", Angel tossed the now empty second bag toward the trashcan, missed, and muttered a few additional curses.

Doyle shrugged. "Dat explains it then. You mean to tell me in all your two hundred plus years of un-livin ya never saw a gravity bong?"

"A what?"

It was Doyle's turn to roll his eyes at his friend. "Ya know what a bong is fer pity's sake?"

"Yea.. it's.. it's for inhaling drugs. Wait! Wait! Nooooo.... noooo way. Not me. Uh-uh. Extremely bad idea the way Im feeling tonight, Doyle. Dangerous. Bad. No."   That said, he stalked off toward the living room, poking at his bumpy demon features, as if coaxing them begone.

Doyle, however, ignored the protests. He immediately set about construction of his gadget with all the enthusiasm of a child who finds his first set of Tinker Toys on Christmas morn.

He ripped the tag off the small office garbage can, and filled it with water to the three quarter level. The smaller man was muttering to himself as he prepared the bottlecap with a small bowl and filter, tied a wire around the top for grip, and dunked it into the can to measure the water level. Satisfied, he punched some small holes in the bottom of the empty soda bottle. Then he ambled back into the living room.

"What were you grumbling about in there?" Angel demanded. "And I am NOT a pansy! Christ, you sound like Spike".. Angel felt his hackles rise at the mere invocation of his irritating Childe's name. Even if it had come from his own lips.

"Well then, shut up and let yerself go for once. Ya worried about morality here? You're a demon. Im half a demon. Grab the friggin' reigns, pal. No ones gonna get hurt, which is more than we can say for what used to happen when ya let it all hang out."...

Angel turned up one corner of his mouth in what most accurately would have been labeled a threat display, rather than a smile. "You know what Doyle? You completely suck at the smooth art of seduction."

Doyle snorted in reply. "Well that's cause Im only tryin' to get ya to suck some smoke and not my dick. Otherwise Id be more fluent. Now shut up and siddown".

Angel had no choice but to be impressed. He shut up, and sat down.

Doyle sat on the floor opposite him, and proceeded to fill the bottlecap with some of the contents of the little plastic bag. He glanced up at Angel. The vampire looked weary and annoyed, but at least he was still sitting there. Doyle grinned and started lighting fire to the small bowl he had made in the bottlecap. He got his fingers a little too close to the flame, singing their tips slightly. He yelped, before thrusting his index and middle digits into his mouth. Angel stared openly as the dark haired man suckled his own fingers.

"So, you *can* get off, cant ya?" Doyle wondered aloud, licking the last trace of black soot off his fingers and finally lighting the bong.

 "Wh- what?" Angel managed, his eyes flying up to the amused countenance of  the half demon.

"Get high, Angel. You know, wasted... hello? Anyone in that handsome head o yours?"

Angel swallowed.  "Uhm... yea... yea, vampires can get high. I spent more than half my incarnation as Angelus in opium dens with Will -- Spike."

Doyle grinned again. Angel noticed, not for the first time, how his eyes crinkled up at the very corners when he did that. And how he had a little indentation in his left cheek when he smiled too, but none on the right....

Distracted as he was by the play of light and shadow on his friends face, he failed to notice when Doyle dunked the empty, smoking soda bottle into the water filled garbage can. "Ya ready, boss?" Doyle asked, and Angel frowned. ((Ready for...? ...Oh!))

"Doyle",  Angel started aloud, "that thing looks like the science project of a mentally challenged fourth grader and I am not putting my lips anywhere - -  *Holy gods*!"

Angels barrage of insults regarding Doyle's scientific prowess were quickly and permanently halted as he saw the bottle rise, filled to the very top with a cloud of thick, white smoke.

More grinning from the Seer. "All right now. Yer gettin' the picture."

Then without further ado, he bent his head and took the tip of the bottle into his mouth. And leaned down, so that the bottle was forced into the water, and the large column of smoke was forced into his lungs.

Angel watched, fascinated as Doyle's red lips closed around the bottles shaft, both his hands wound round its thick sides, and his dark head went down...... ((Christ! Im not even stoned. I have NO excuse for that!))

At last, Doyle sat back on his haunches and eyed the vampire, his eyes glazed and sparkling, his lips tightly sealed. When he at last released his long held breath, Angel was amazed at the amount of smoke which came with it. His heightened sense of smell caught the sweetness and the familiar tang of centuries past.

Angel bit the inside of his cheek. ((*Not* good. I already feel like killing someone, and this stuff smells way too reminiscent of the bad old days and Doyle looks... wow. Doyle looks good.... Ok. *Doyle* looks good? See, Im apparently round the bed already so no need to add fuel to the fire here.))

When Angel thought he'd at last be able to voice his fears in a coherent manner, he opened his mouth, not surprised in the least at the taste of his own blood on his tongue. "Uhm... Doyle... bad plan. Plan is bad." ((All righty then. Very coherent. And you're only two hundred and fifty years old! Tomorrow well work on full sentences!))

Doyle laughed now, the smoke continuing to pour forth from his lips in tiny clouds. "C'mon, Angel man", he taunted. "what ya waitin' for now? Go DOWN on that thing".

Angel swore aloud. Exactly how many oral gratification innuendoes were there associated with getting high these days? When the vampire remained still, Doyle shrugged. "Your loss," the half demon stated confidently, once again placing his full mouth along the bottles rim.

Angel watched the double entendre fest unfold, and found himself growing amused, despite valiant efforts to remain contrary and broody. He had to admit no one could pull him back from the testy brink quite like his friend and business partner. Angel wondered if it was the half demons un-self conscious goofy presence or his carefully hidden innocence. No matter what Dole had seen and done in his past, he still managed to boil the most complex of situations down into their most tangible parts. It was refreshing to be around a strictly black and white point of view. Angel had based his entire existence on blurry shades of gray.

"So, what were opium dens like back in the day, eh?" the Brachen's voice was strained with the effort of trying to keep his lungs filled to smoky capacity while speaking.

Angel grinned, "Hazy. Lotta half naked people with hookahs."

Doyle blinked,  "Ya had to pay for sex?"

It was Angels turn to look smug and didactic. "HookAHS, not hookers. And you gave me a hard time for drug naïveté?"

Doyle's lips curled in a half leer, and Angel watched as wisps of white snuck through the small parting. "Haven't even begun to give ya a hard time, yet, man. But I will if you don't try this thing." Doyle reached out a hand and grasped the back of Angels neck. The vampire was surprised at the surety and strength in the unexpected touch.

Angel let himself be pulled forward, closer to Doyle's body. He watched as the smile filled the Irishman's face, revealing a row of perfect, white teeth, and setting his eyes alight. Angel had to admit it. This was the sort of face he had always gone for. The irreconcilable mix of rugged and pretty. Large eyes and careless smirk. Sinlessness belied by a square chin and too much hair.

The vampire was inches away from the pair of slick, ample lips, and he opened his own in anticipation. Which was precisely when he found himself sucking on a bottle top. His intake of breath was reflexive, an expression of surprise and irritation; and as Doyle pushed his head down, he involuntarily inhaled the thick, sweet billows.

When the Seer released his persuasive grip, Angel lifted his head, intent on a homicidal growl.  But his brain was spinning with long forgotten sensations, and he was loathe to let them go by exhaling anytime soon. So his eyes were wide with surprise, and he couldn't even find it in himself to be aggravated at Doyle's mocking laughter.

When he finally released a breath, the half demon nodded happily at him. "Wow.. that whole not needin' to breathe thing must come in really handy moments like that, eh? You could just hang onto that stuff for hours."

Angel mumbled some sort of agreement, and lay back, letting his head fall onto his arms, folded behind him.

 "Good shit, ain't it?" Doyle was still looking amused, but Angel didn't quite care any longer. Good shit, indeed. The vampire mumbled something else, and Doyle laughed again, before partaking once more of the smoking contraption.

Angel needed less and less coaxing each time Doyle decided it was his turn, and since he also needed no oxygen, it took many less turns for the vampire to find himself as pleasantly undone as his companion. Or moreso. Doyle apparently had quite the tolerance for illicit materials.

Soon, both men were reclining on couch pillows upon the floor, and the conversation had taken on muted tones. Angel was completely taken aback at his own level of relaxation, let alone the ease with which it had been accomplished. It indicated, for him, a certain level of trust he had not even realized he still possessed. He turned to look at his companion, who was laying face down on the pillows. He allowed his gaze to linger a moment too long on the small of the mans back, and the leather belt surrounding the slim hips.

Doyle was just shifting his weight to catch the dark glance he felt creep up his spine. The vampire turned his head sheepishly.

"So what's the best fuck ya ever had, man?"

Angel nearly choked on his own spit. "What?"

Doyle kept his mirth in check. "Fuck. The best ya ever had. Im goin' for locker room talk here, boss. Work with it. And no broody romantic shit either. Im talkin' brutal sex."

"Oh... uh... that's' easy actually. Will."  Angel had his eyes closed.

"Will? Oh me god, Spike!? The bloke that tried to off you for the gem!?"  Doyle was leaning over the vampire now and he could all but taste the half demons smoky breath.

"Yea, one and the same, " Angel smiled, the dark eyes remained closed.

"You made him...", Doyle murmured, suddenly understanding.

"Aye," Angel answered, the leisure and the memories lulling him into the old brogue. "And he had a mouth on him.... gods...."

Doyle was still leaning over the taller man, staring at the moving lips, trying to connect them to running speech. It wasn't until the brown eyes opened slowly that the half demon realized he was being addressed.

"Doyle, "...Angel whispered again. Doyle shook his head from side to side, a lock of black hair falling into his face as he did so. Angel fought the urge to touch it.

"Huh?" the smaller man stammered, staring into the sleepy chocolate eyes, glazed over with pot smoke and something else...

"My turn?" the vampire asked.

"Sure",  came the easy reply. But the predator in Angel heard the single irregular thump in Doyle's chest, before his heart once more found its normal rhythm.

"Are you trying to seduce me here?" Angel kept his voice light, but his gaze was intently locked upon the emerald eyes, still staring down at him. He leaned up onto one elbow.

((dare))

"And if I was, man?"

((double dare))

"You're actually doin' a fine job."  the vampires soft voice had found its way to Doyle's spine again. "'Cept for one small thing,...." gentle voice, hypnotic and ethereal, and right by Doyle's left ear....

"Whatssat?" Small gasp as the vampires lips teased along the sensitive skin of an earlobe.

"You ever fuck a vampire before?" Doyle could hear the grin, could feel it prance across the skin of his neck where til only moments before breath had been. The silky mouth brushing the flesh which covered the blue artery. He arched against the barely perceptible caress.

((double dog dare))

"First time for everythin', man."

((taken))

Doyle grabbed a fistful of spiky chestnut hair, and pulled the face away from his neck and up to his mouth. The kiss was harsh; no pretense, no smooth polish. Just the adamant coming together of desire; hard, and fast, and male.

Angel would offer only one opportunity for reticence when he pulled back; a solitary questioning look at his friend. Doyle answered by tugging Angels shirt out of  his waistband, and laying his warm mouth over the soft hair on his belly.

Angel groaned, and closed his eyes. Without further thought or preamble, he submitted to the ministrations of the mouth and hands which were eagerly divesting him of all his clothing.

Small, warm, living hands. Rubbing his hardened chest, kneading at his shoulders, tearing at his jeans. He assisted them in their quest, tugging at his own zipper, and lifting his hips to slide out of the tight denim. Then those same vital hands on Angels cock.  A certain grip, fist tight around the cool, unyielding flesh. The vampire grunted and pulled away.

"Been too long. You first", he murmured, pushing the smaller man back and against the pillows. Doyle complied, lifting his arms over his head so the vampire could remove his shirt, and slipping his own blue jeans off his long legs.

Angel swept his eyes over the body laying before him, and suppressed a shudder. Flawless skin covering light muscle, a small frame with hidden strength. The kind of body where surrender would be easier granted than taken. His stare was palpable, and Doyle's breath caught in his throat. The vampire smiled indulgently. "Sorry",  he whispered, without really meaning it. "You just look ......edible."

A hard swallow from the prone half demon, and Angel burst out laughing. "Guess that's not as much of a compliment as I imagined coming from a vampire?"

Doyle managed a shrug. "Depends",.... he teased, arching his back just enough, and unconsciously turning his head to the side. He had no idea how submissive the posture was, or what it did to Angels demon to witness it.

The growl escaped the vampires lips before he could squelch it, and by then it was too late. His mouth was already around Doyle's cock. They'd spent half this night on metaphorical foreplay, and Angel felt no obligation for more. He curled his tongue around the long shaft, delighting in the way it twitched and pulsed inside him. He suckled at the warmth, keenly aware of the source, sliding his mouth up to the tip and down to the root, in rhythm with the life giving blood he could all but taste inside it.

Doyle bucked under the attentions, his hands grasping for purchase on broad shoulders, or tangled hair. Angels suck was brutally strong, he could feel his cock touch the back of the vampires throat with every relentless thrust. Then Angel reached underneath him, cupped his buttocks, and the large hands seemed to cover every inch of hidden flesh. He was being possessed by the vampire.... claimed.... taken. It was like being eaten alive, an animate delicacy in the mouth of a predatorial snake.

He wanted to groan his pleasure, but found speaking was not possible. He thought he made some sort of strangled cry, but the thudding in his veins had filled his ears. He didn't want to come just yet.... but there was no quarter from the preternatural ravishing he was receiving. He screamed something finally he didn't recognize as English as his hot seed spilled into the vampires mouth and was swallowed in ardent draughts.

((Faster than a fuckin' teenager, man)) Doyle thought, cursing himself, and Angel grinned against the sticky cock, licking it clean. A victorious, predatorial grin that made Doyle moan with dismay.

"Shh...", Angel whispered, continuing to nibble and lick at Doyle's thighs. The sex glands of human males gave off such unique scents.... just... *here*... The vampire nuzzled along the tender, pale skin between Doyle's legs. He smelled sweet and complex... Like some sort of hideous aftershave with bad 70's actors in their commercials. But the undertones... grass and outdoorsy things. Pot and whiskey. Blood and life. His rough, dark hairs tickled Angels nose and the vampire smiled again.

"What, you know somethin' I don't? Cause vamps might have lightening fast refractory periods, but humans --"

Doyle was cut off mid sentence by a sharp bite on the inside of his thigh. Even without the game face teeth, it stung. "Shh, " again. Then,  "You're only half human......."

Doyle gasped as the chilly mouth descended over his balls. He could feel them tighten and retreat closer to his own heat, but the cold lips and tongue were relentless in their pursuit. Angel gently sucked the precious jewels into his mouth, taking much greater care than he had previously with Doyle's cock.

"Doyle, listen," Angel murmured against the most sensitive spot of pink skin, between the half demons cock and his muscled ass.

"Aaaahhhh.....," Doyle gritted, and Angel lifted his dark head to look down at his pliant lover. The green eyes fluttered open, disappointment and frustration apparent in their emerald depths. "Don't... don't... stop..."

Angel smiled softly. "I wont stop. But you have to promise that you'll tell me if it hurts..."

Confusion flashed through the wintery orbs, but the vampire didn't bother to explain further. Instead, he once more bent his head to take Doyle's partially erect shaft into his open mouth. It leapt to attention, meeting his kiss halfway. As Angels lips closed around the purple head, he realized with a smug grin that this might actually work.

It was an ancient vamp trick, the Calling of the Blood. Usually reserved for feeding or torture, it allowed a skilled vampire to summon any flowing blood to one spot in a creature's living body. Angel had seen it used once or twice for sexual pleasures. He'd never actually done it himself.......

((First time for everythin', man))

With Doyle's half remembered taunt in his ears, Angel grasped the mans cock in a steady fist. Then he swept his mind clear of any thought at all, and wrapped his lips fully once more around the twitching shaft. He began to hum softly, the sound like a soft purr, while his long fingers rubbed along the base, creating the sensation of dancing butterflies on the overheated skin.

Doyle felt his heart contract, he groaned throatily. Sweat coated his chest, saline droplets catching in the scant black hairs between flat pink nipples. Maybe it was the vampire majik. Maybe it was preternaturally fast demon recovery. Maybe Angel just gave really good head.

But Doyle's hard on was once again raging, and he was determined that this go round last longer than the first. He tugged at the hard, unyielding, busy shoulders between his legs. "Don't wanna come again yet...." the strangled tone held a plea.

Angel complied, and with another self satisfied smirk detoured north.  He licked the beads of sweat from Doyle's belly, following the dark line of hair over his pectoral muscles, and around his nipples. He bit down on the reddened flesh until the tiny nubs stood at attention, and Doyle arched his back, and moaned.

Then the vampire found the salty flesh of the half demons neck, and buried his face into the smooth, moist haven. The steady thumping of the vein was regular but fast, its tempo more frightened rabbit than aroused human. Brachen beat. It drove Angels demon frantic with lust.

Angel ground his hips into the smaller pair below him, feeling the soft skin of Doyle's cock rub against the hairs on his stomach. The smaller man groaned again. Angel increased the friction, hissing at the feel of his own cock crushed between their hard, entwined bodies.

The symphony of sounds assaulted the vampires already heightened senses. Soft cries and whimpers of pleasure combined with the metronome of Doyle's heart. It was overwhelming.

The vampire spared a look down at the man sprawled carelessly, trustingly, beneath him, struggling to keep his human mask intact. This was Doyle, friend and comrade in arms... in his arms. Doyle who drank too much and talked too much and thought too little before doing either. Doyle who had his head thrown back in abandon, and a matte of blue black hair covering his sweaty forehead. Doyle who was chewing on his own lower lip, just hard  enough to draw small specks of blood.  Doyle, who at the height of ecstasy, had shouted Angels name.

As Angel thrust against the yielding body in his relentless grip, hot, demanding hands grabbed the cheeks of the vampires ass, fingernails clawed their way through flawless alabaster skin. Open mouths dueled, tongues seeking and finding; a ridge of flesh, an edge of tooth, the softest, most pliable spot on the lips... The unmistakable tang of demon blood.

In the end the intent of every action was the same.

To get inside. Inside.

"Doyle,  want you want you, Doyle, " ...Angel realized he was chanting now, like an idiot . He couldn't quite bring himself to give a damn.

Doyle wriggled slightly underneath him, and the same simple gesture was once more the vampires undoing. The arching of the hips, the baring of the belly and the heart, the neck turned just so....

Angel wanted to entomb himself there, in that virgin flesh covered by a thin sheen of perspiration, and thudding violently with hale Irish blood. In that sacred space where none had ever trespassed. He wanted to own it, to lay claim to it, to enter into its purity and ravage it once, and once for all time. He wanted to scar the neck, and the man. He wanted....

Angel growled in earnest now, and with the last vestiges of human consciousness, gripped the half demon closer to his chest, lest the instinctive, animal sound frighten him away. When he opened his eyes into the vampiric yellow haze which had become his vision, he realized that Doyle did not appear frightened at all. In fact, he appeared anything but frightened...

Small, demanding hands on the back of the vampires head and a guttural snarl. Muffled by the keening scream and the rush of blood which had filled Angels mouth in a furious gush. He gulped at the fount greedily, until it abated, only to spout again, in rhythm with the heartbeat. Angel drank the mans blood, the demons blood, swallowing the mortal vitality he could experience only vicariously. Consuming with it the precious, stolen moments.

No grace here, no glimpse of heaven. Just human flesh and breath and tears and a human soul, and the fleeting instant when he could almost touch them, own them, snuff them........

Pulling away with an agonized howl.  Angels demon retreating to the shadows, whimpering rabidly, and clanging at the chains which bound it eternally to a living soul. Human features shimmering into hazy view. Hooded eyes watching as sharp fangs punctured a hole in the vampires own wrist.

Doyle opened his mouth, and for a second, the vampire froze, his face a blurry mask of half monster, half Angel. Then he smiled, and the fangs disappeared, and it was the inviting, almost shy smile of his friend. The larger man shook his head,  "No, Doyle, not tonight... not that ever....."

Doyle lay passive, arms flung atop his head, chest heaving with the effort to regain a measure of control over his shivering body. He watched wordlessly as Angel coated his own cock with the spilt blood from his wrist. Understanding, he lifted his knees and locked his eyes with the vampire.

Angel lay a hand on either side of Doyle's hips, and tugged him slowly across the floor. The moment stretched out torturously, with neither man daring to blink, or to breathe, and Doyle didn't know if it was the drugs or the blood loss or some other vampire majik; but he knew for certain that he was going to die if Angel didn't....

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh god.........," was what Doyle's lips tried to form, but what came out was not quite as articulate. Angel had lifted his hips off the wood floor, finally, and dragged him the remaining few inches over his ample cock. Doyle felt the stabbing pain invade him,  relaxing with a gasp only as Angel paused, to allow the mans trembling body to accommodate his full girth. The half demons heated skin seemed to melt under the cool assault of the vampires flesh. His whole body seemed limp, no longer under his voluntary control. Which was all right, actually, because Angel seemed quite content to pull his strings for him....

Angel fucked Doyle as he had drank from him; aggressively yet deliberately, with skill and care and measured dominance. Doyle found himself giving thanks to whatever gods happened to listen to the cries of men during carnal acts, that bodily functions such as breathing were automatic. Because Doyle was certain he'd forgotten how.

It was all he could do to keep up with the ferocious rhythm, to raise his hips against his lovers thrusts, to not sink into unconscious bliss at the sensation of the large, cool shaft buried to the hilt inside him. His muscles quivered in anticipation, tightening around Angels cock, and the vampire groaned, digging his fingernails into Doyle's sides, trying desperately to remain aware of the frailty and limitations his human lover possessed.

But the half demon wasn't looking too breakable at the moment, with his teeth gritted together and his eyelashes glued against pale cheeks by the sweat pouring off both their muscled bodies. He was looking mostly ...wild, and lewd... and completely.... ravaged. At the wanton sight, Angels demon howled, stealing use of  the vocal chords they shared. The sound centered itself in the small of Doyle's back, then spread down his aching thighs, and finally up to his cock, which the vampire now grasped between shaking fingers, and began to stroke. His preternatural grip slid over Doyle's hard shaft in an easy rhythm. The combination of gentle touch and ruthless fucking proved too much for the dark haired Seer.

He shouted something incoherent and spilled his seed once more, into Angels palm. The vampire smiled again, and licked his hand clean, the hot, bittersweet taste sending him over the edge finally as well. He managed to stay upright as the powerful climax shook him, and Doyle was able to watch as the handsome face contorted in pleasure, a shimmering mask once more of demon, man, and ecstasy.

Then the vampire collapsed forward, on top of his lover, able only to rest his weight on his elbows to prevent himself from crushing the smaller man beneath him. Doyle lay spent, his breaths coming in ragged gasps and moans, running a shaky hand down Angels damp back to rest at his waist.

Long moments later, Doyle gently shoved against the half sleeping vampires broad chest in protest. Angel grinned drowsily and rolled onto his side, gathering his friend and lover into his arms. Doyle, discovering he at last had enough oxygen to speak, raised his head.  "Well then.",   With all the humor and affection that a mere two words could possibly hold.

Angel grinned. "Well then.",  he repeated, with a similar degree of warmth and amusement. "Not exactly the relaxing evening I had planned. But, I cant say Im tense anymore either..."

Doyle laughed, and Angel found himself thinking that he could spend alot of time listening to that carefree sound. "Thank you, Doyle", the vampire whispered suddenly, and the half demon sat up.

"You're thanking me for fucking YOU!? Wow. You really haven't seen yourself in two hundred years, have you? You're... you're....",  Doyle stopped, blushing a bit.

Angels smile broadened, as he finished the statement, "*attractive?*"

Doyle groaned aloud, mumbled something about  "big mouth fucking Princesses" and hid his head against Angels chest.

Angel was laughing now, and Doyle found himself thinking he could get used to that rare sound. "So next time, I get to drink yer blood?" the half demon queried, taking advantage of the light moment.

Angel was still laughing. "Next time, huh? And what is the fascination with drinking my blood? Its not that thrilling if you're not a vampire, trust me."

Doyle shrugged. "Next time Ill let you do the seducin', seein' as yer so keen on that whole control thing." He smirked as Angel, having been totally pegged, looked a mite uncomfortable. "And Ill be the judge of the thrills in yer blood. Deal?"

Angel snorted a bit. "Maybe. Well see."

The half demon lay back against the hard chest, wrapping one leg over the vampires waist. "Yea, well you're immortal. We lesser creatures have only a finite amount of time to accomplish our desires. I got into your pants, now I want into your blood. Ya know, jes somethin' to say I got to do afore I slip the mortal coil."

Angel suppressed a strange, involuntary shudder. "Geez, Doyle. You always wax philosophical about death after stoned sex? Next time ....*next time*, " he repeated for emphasis, "Im gonna fuck you sober. And I promise, you're not gonna die before I get that chance."

((Not gonna die anytime soon, my friend. Not anytime soon.))

Angel dropped a light, easy kiss on the stubble covered cheek, and held the Seer close as he drifted off into slumber.
 

Finis

Read the Sequel: Are You Happy?

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