Title: Scattered Thoughts: Promise You Forever
Author: JR
Email: JRR42@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17 If you shouldn’t be here, be somewhere else.
Episode spoilers: Doppelgangland, Prom, G1 & 2, set between G2 and Buffy season 4/Angel season1
Archive: My site only! If you want to link to it, please contact me to let me know where.
Series/Sequel: Follows ‘Scattered Thoughts: The Road Has Come to an End’, but you *don’t* have to read that before this -- this one can stand alone.
Previous parts: www.angelfire.com/de/theparlor/buffy.html.
Disclaimer: Angel, Willow, et al, are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and the WB. All characters are used without permission. This story is not intended to infringe upon any copyrights, nor is any profit being made from it.
Thanks: As always, to Carrie and to Marius especially for coming through at the 11th hour. You two are the best :-) Thanks so much for all the work you do!

...what?

Did she just really say that? She must have because she looks just about as shocked as I feel right at this moment. I can see the protest already forming on her lips, and sure enough, she starts babbling out some serious verbal backpedaling.

“I mean...like we are now. You...and me...being...like this. Just holding each other... if that’s what you want.”

Huh? I’m still kind of stuck on the part where she wants me...with her. I force myself to think back over what she just said. Oh. Holding each other. Right.

“I want that so much, Willow,” I mean to say my words casually, but somehow, they end up sounding desperate. I didn’t mean to say it like that...did I? Funny, but to my own ears, my voice sounds as needy as Willow’s did a minute ago.

“Angel?” she asks shyly.

“Hmm?” I mumble. It’s the best I can do considering that my mind is still hung up on the whole ‘she wants to be with me’ thing.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything, Willow,” I answer, meaning it with all my unbeating heart. She could ask me to stake myself right now and I think I would beg her to sharpen the wood for me.

“Would you...I mean could you...” she falters, wringing her hands in nervousness. “Wouldyoumindtakingoffyourpants?”

What? My jaw drops in sheer surprise.

I can’t believe she...

... actually said that!

My face is burning like living flame after you throw the smelly sand on it. I can’t seem to so much as *look* directly at Angel. Oh why did I have to go and say something completely stupid like that!

But the little voice in the back of my head starts whispering to me. Why exactly do I feel embarrassed? Maybe because I’m like the only one who’s *naked* around here.

It’s *so* not fair. I’ve dreamed about what Angel would look like without his clothes. Buffy’s said a few things over time, letting little factiods and tidbits concerning Angel slip every now and then, and what she’s said has only made me even more interested. This is my first -- and probably last -- chance to appease my curiosity.

With my desperate determination overriding my shyness, I bring my eyes up to meet Angel’s. He answers my request by abruptly lowering his head in what I assume will be a nod. Instead of raising his head back up, though, he leaves it down.

Angel leans back carefully until his elbows come to rest on the floor. From there he eases himself the rest of the way to the ground. Bringing his hands to his waist, Angel unfastens the button of his black pants before easing the zipper down. I’m not sure whether or not he’s moving so slowly on purpose, but if his idea is to drive me crazy with anticipation, it’s working like a charm.

Unfolding his legs, Angel places his feet flat against the ground. My heart almost stops as I watch him raise his hips up off the floor, supporting himself with his feet and shoulders in order to keep his hands free. Digging his fingers into the dark fabric, Angel slides both his pants and his boxers over the swell of his...

...oh my God. Breathe! Breathe, you idiot before you pass out!

As usual, I end up overcompensating. I’m almost panting by the time Angel eases his hips back to the floor. Another almost-heart attack hits me when Angel’s tight stomach muscles ripple as he sits up to continue the whole clothing removal process.

He...Wha?...Oh...He is just...beautiful ...handsome...*drool-worthy*...and...

...embarrassed as hell.

I don’t know why I’m feeling like that. I’ve been with hundreds of partners -- men and women both -- in my two-and-a half centuries as a vampire, but I can’t remember the last time I felt shy undressing in front of one of them.

So, bottom line is, I can’t figure out why I’m suddenly feeling so self-conscious.

Willow. It’s gotta be Willow. But a single glance at her makes me recall Willow’s state of undress. That’s not to say that I totally forgot about it -- not when it’s *Willow* lying naked not two feet away from me. Maybe the hesitation stems from that little voice in the back of my mind screaming at me that this might not be such a good idea. But I ignore it as I have been since the first moment we kissed.

Before I realize it, my embarrassment is ebbing away. More comfortable than before, I lean forward to pull my pants past my feet. Naked as Willow, I pull myself together. My eyes never leave hers as I ease back, revealing my body to her for the first time.

Between my own nervousness and the room’s ambient temperature, my erection had softened somewhat. But if Willow’s gasp and raised eyebrows are any indication, it may not be such a bad thing. As it is, I’m kind of embarrassed by the open admiration on her face. I mean, I’ve heard and seen enough reactions to know that I’m not half-bad looking, but it’s still difficult to believe when I don’t have the opportunity to judge for myself anymore.

Except for the rapid rise and fall of her chest, Willow is completely motionless. I’m almost surprised when I realize that I seem to be, too...uh, motionless that is. Time seems to slow to a stand-still as we both wait for the other to make the first move. Both my instinct and experience, however, tell me that I’m going to have to be the one to do it.

To my surprise, Willow is one step ahead of me, though. Shuffling forward, she closes the distance between us, stopping about a foot away from me. One of her tiny hands rises up, coming to rest just above my right nipple.

There is an incredible sensuousness in the way her fingers skim down my chest. Willow’s touch is so light that it almost tickles as she brushes over my cool skin. Nevertheless, I can feel my nerve-endings come alive with a clarity I haven’t known since I was mortal. Maybe that’s why I end up growling at the moment when the sensation stops.

Opening eyes that I didn’t even realize I had closed, I see Willow’s hand hovering over my stomach. Although I’m frustrated by the halted proceedings, one look at the uncertainty on Willow’s face is enough to give me the strength to clamp down on my own needs -- for a few seconds, anyway. Forcing myself to keep my voice calm and steady, I practically find myself begging her.

“It’s okay, Willow,” I reassure. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

There is an internally long moment as she considers my words. To my surprise, Willow answers my statement with a question of her own.

“What do *you* want, Angel?” she asks, unable to meet my gaze with her own.

“Touch me, Willow,” I immediately plead, placing my own desire before any more sensible thoughts.

That’s all the encouragement she needs in order to bring her hand back down to pick up where she left off. Her movements are slower this time, perhaps due to the fact that the remainder of my body is undiscovered territory as far as she is concerned. But, with luck and a prayer, it won’t stay that way for lo...

...oh my God! Finally! Finally, Willow’s exploration has reached the one place I most wanted her to go. My back involuntarily arches upward toward the delicate fingers caressing my cock. Warmth is pouring off her hand like molten lava, leaving me to wonder whether her touch will leave behind a wake of burning, ignited skin.

A moan escapes my lips as Willow’s fingers curl around my shaft. There is an understandable tentativeness in her touch at first, but she quickly overcomes it as her familiarity grows. It’s not long before she gives a few experimental squeezes. Each one wrings a heartfelt groan out of my throat.

“Yesss,” I hiss in encouragement. Using my reactions to her ministrations as a guide, Willow finds the pressure and rhythm that I prefer. “That’s it, that’s...oh yeah...that’s it.”

The feeling of her thumb running lightly over the tip of my cock just about makes me jump out of my skin. Somewhere pretty far gone on the journey to euphoria, I’m left growling in frustration when Willow’s hand slows to a stop. She does, however...

...keep moving my thumb. I’m kinda surprised to feel the moisture accumulated on the tip of his...on the tip of him. I mean, I know what it is. I’ve just never seen so much of it before. I’ve read that it varies from guy to guy. I just guess that Oz is a ‘not so much’ guy while Angel is a ‘copious amounts’ kinda person...vampire, whatever.

I have to admit that I’m fascinated by the texture of it. Slick and sticky. Weird. Kind of like syrup, I guess. I wonder if it tastes sweet, too...?

Oh God.

Oh God.

OhGodOhGodOhGod.

I can’t believe I even thought that. Cringe time! Oh man, the blush to beat all blushes is crawling up my face. I’m surprised that I’m not spontaneously combusting here.

Whoa. Angel is moving. What is he doing? Huh? His hand is settling over mine -- the one on his...you know. Although I keep my eyes glued to his, I can feel his dark stare directly on my face. What is he up to?

I shiver slightly as Angel’s cool finger runs back and forth along my thumb. Unfortunately, he doesn’t do it for long, just enough to get me relaxed for when he pushes my thumb out of his way. What is he...

...oh my! I wasn’t expecting him to run his own finger through the fluid that’s caught my interest, let alone...

...Oh My! And I certainly never would have dreamed that he’d bring the liquid-coated finger to his own lips. I should be disgusted, right? But I’m not. In fact, I’m far from it. As far from it as I can get. There’s just something really sexy about watching Angel smear his essence over his own lips. Even in the dim light of the room, I can see it glistening back at me.

Angel’s moving again, this time bringing his arms around me. He tightens his grip, pulling me towards him. Suddenly I realize that he is about to give me the answer to what I was wondering about a minute ago: what it...what *he* tastes like.

Instead of kissing him, I let my tongue wander out, brushing a hesitant lick against the cool, smooth surface of his lips. Pulling back for a moment, I use the time to sort out what I’m tasting, but I somehow doubt that all the time in the world would help. I just have nothing to compare it to. A little salty, almost slippery -- not that ‘slippery’ is a *taste*, but, well, like I said, I don’t know how else to describe it.

But I do know that I would like to take another try at it.

I lean forward to close the distance between us. My mouth is more demanding this time. Once I clean his lips completely, I press my tongue straight into Angel’s mouth. I can’t believe my own actions -- I’m never this aggressive, but apparently Angel doesn’t seem to mind. At least, not if his groans of appreciation are any indication.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Angel’s finger approaching his mouth, once more moist and shiny. To my own embarrassment, I’m way too turned on to even let it reach its intended destination. Instead, I lean down and capture it between my lips. It’s only when I start rolling my tongue around his finger that I notice that Angel moans are now accompanied by some pretty intense squirming. I’m a little confused. Why is this, of all things getting him so worked up?

Oooh! I’m so dense! And kind of mortified, too. I’ve never...not even with Oz. I mean, I know that a lot of people do it, but it just seems so...personal. Okay, I know, what can be more personal than sex, right? But *that* is different. To be so close to someone’s most private parts...

...to my own astonishment, sounds kind of intriguing right now. I mean, this is Angel. *Angel*. He’s probably had it done to him a million other times. Oh no! What if I don’t do it right? Or if I suck at it?

I can’t believe I actually just thought that.

But getting back to original line of thought, here is the perfect opportunity to try this. Okay, just lean forward. Maybe some kisses on his chest and stomach, kind of a way of getting to know his body on the way down. Relax, Angel’s not going to be...




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