Blame it on the Rain
Blame it on the Rain
Jealousy rages on a stormy night in Sunnydale
Double or Nothing Bonus Scene – It’s not story canon, but what if….
Angel found Willy’s Bar to be nearly deserted. Only a daring few had braved the lousy weather. It was one of those rare nights in Sunnydale when the rain came down in heavy sheets flooding roadways and turning the cemetery grounds to mud. Even Buffy had foregone patrol tonight telling him that any vampire on the hunt would have a difficult time finding prey. The weather had driven most people indoors.
Humans and demons alike were apparently avoiding the rain. He was avoiding something else all together. It was his fault, really. Just one of the many things he failed to think through when giving Angelus permission to claim Cordelia Chase. Sure, he had been concerned for her safety. Mind-boggled that she could claim to love the soulless demon he had cast away. More so that Angelus demonstrated feelings in return.
How was it that such an unlikely pair seemed to be working out despite their polar differences? Jealousy twisted at his gut as he thought about the closeness of their relationship. Maybe it was just Cordelia’s way of turning people and their lives inside out, but Angel knew that his new ‘brother’ was not the only one affected by her presence at the mansion.
Each day he fell increasingly under her spell. Cordelia’s beauty was obvious to anyone with eyes, but there was far more to discover. Drawn to her in spite of her oft times-annoying habit of talking his ears off, he enjoyed her openness and charm. All he should have felt was the spirit of friendship and family when graced by the warmth of her smile, as she intended. No one looked at him that way, not even Buffy, maybe no one except his mother, or little sister, but the feelings engendered were nothing so innocent.
Angel certainly did not think of Cordelia as a sister, even if she was his doppelganger’s mate. Angelus was not his brother regardless of their use of that term. The Fates had bound him to a fine line of behavior curtailing his nature by threatening debilitating pain and revocation of his freedom. Beyond those limits, he retained control over his existence. As a vampire he was still driven by passion, pleasure, and pain, as was Angel even with his practiced habits suppressing those urges.
Tonight, he found himself trapped by the weather, forced to play witness to little caresses, teasing kisses, and sometimes overtly sexual actions. Either they were oblivious to his presence or did not care. He locked himself away in the study planning to bury his nose in a book, getting lost in the pages and letting his imagination carry him away to a place that did not involve his mirror image stroking Cordelia’s golden skin.
Being out of sight almost made it worse. All he could do was hear them. His preternatural hearing kicked in making it all too clear that they were taking advantage of his absence. Clear and colorful, his imagination gave him a vivid picture of what he was missing from the subtle shifting of clothing, incoherent moans, grunts and the more obvious sound of energetic sex.
If he listened in just right way, the broken syllables caught in Cordelia’s throat sounded like she was calling out his name instead of Angelus’. Even so, he still had enough of a connection with that name to react, to get hard at the sound of it on her lips, and to want to be the one making her crazy with lust. Making her gasp and moan to the rhythmic tune of squeaking couch springs as he fucked her.
Opting to ignore the aching erection tenting his pants, Angel rose up from his leather chair, walking stiffly to the bookshelves where he placed the unread novel, and turned toward the door. Leaving them alone, going upstairs to his rooms would have been the right thing to do. He had his foot on the bottom step when Cordelia let out an ecstatic cry that signaled a particularly intense orgasm. Being able to categorize Cordelia’s orgasms told Angel that he was far too interested.
Hastily discarded clothing was strewn across the living room floor and furniture, a momentary distraction from the writhing couple on the couch. Angel paused in the living room doorway noting that they were not finished. Knowing his own body, he was unsurprised that Angelus was still going, his stamina a plus in Cordelia’s book. Just as well, he supposed, that she seemed to need only a few hours of sleep.
Angelus had changed the pace, thrusting slowly, almost teasingly as Cordelia clasped him close with both hands and murmured on and on about it being so good. With his full attention focused on the erotic sight of his cock stroking deep inside her, he failed to notice Angel’s approach. It was the same with her, except her eyes were scrunched closed as she savored every delicious thrust, her knees flexed and spread wide.
Beautiful, her hair spread out loose and wild on the cushions, a veil of silk teasing her shoulders, as she arched upward seeking closer contact. Watching in torment, Angel’s hungry gaze drifted to the reddened area on her throat smugly considering that he could leave a proper mark if he chose. Unlike Angelus, the Fates had not placed conditions on the use of his fangs. He wanted to drag them across that beautiful unbroken skin, nip at some tender spots as he kissed her breasts, and worked his way down to the white scar marring her belly.
Quite a few scenarios flashed through his head, but it was a fantasy he knew could never be real. Cordelia was off limits. Any decent human being would have left them alone and stayed away. A better man would not lust after his brother’s girlfriend. Then again, he was a vampire, and Angelus was not his real brother.
The intoxicating scent of sex hung in the air causing him to lick at his lips, and clench his fists at the anger and jealousy raging inside him. How many times had he asked them both to limit their lusty encounters to their own part of the mansion? More than a few, he knew. So walking in on them was definitely their fault.
Angel leaned against the wall and waited silently until Cordelia opened her eyes and caught him staring. There was surprise, horror and a hint of excitement in her initial reaction.
Then there was yelling. He had definitely crossed a line. Strangely, he felt no guilt.
“Someone should patrol tonight,” he ignored the fact that Angelus was still buried to the hilt inside Cordelia. “I’m going out.”
Cordelia’s screeching ended abruptly and her grip on the throw pillow she was about to chuck in his direction loosened so that it fell back to the floor where it had toppled some time earlier. “It’s still raining.”
“It’s not like it will kill him.” Angelus tried soothing her with soft kisses and softer words voicing an offer that held ulterior motives. “Unless you want him to stay. He can watch.”
The rapid sound of her heart thumping wildly made it clear the idea excited her. She shifted beneath him, her bright eyes still focused on Angel as Angelus started moving again, slowly thrusting in and out, taking his time to make the penetration obvious, letting him know that Cordelia belonged to him. With a smirk, Angelus skirted his hand from her hip to her breast plumping it teasingly before lowering his mouth to flick at the dark, pebbled nipple with his tongue leaving it shiny and wet.
Even as Cordelia moaned for more, she set him back on his path by denying him permission to stay. “Angel, please,” she begged so prettily. “Go.”
So he did.
He headed straight for Revello Drive. Not that it did much good. Buffy was not up for patrol, and had promised her mother a night in, just the two of them and some VHS movie rentals. “Maybe later?” she suggested that he could sneak upstairs and wait in her bedroom. The freezing rain had also left Angel not up for anything Buffy might have in mind, either. Somewhat bitterly, he declined.
With the rain still pouring down even more so than when he had left home, Angel made his way to the local demon bar in search of a drink and some solitude. No one would dare bother him there. The whiskey was not enough to distract him from his thoughts of Angelus and Cordelia. Now that he had openly played the voyeur, it would be impossible to hide his feelings from her.
Although it was second nature for Cordelia to over share everything, the topic of sex was on the ‘no details’ list. Until now, it was understood that some things were better left private. He could already predict that Acathla’s hell dimension might be preferable to the choice words Cordelia would have to say to him tomorrow, assuming that she left it that long to confront him about his behavior.
She would have questions—lots of them—amid the expected accusations of lechery, of course, for which he had no excuse. No doubt, she would ask why he was so interested in her sex life when he had made a deal with the Fates to ensure he had one of his own with Buffy.
Angel had no interested in revealing that his relationship with Buffy left a lot to be desired. She had changed since that night he took her virginity and lost his soul, coincidentally also a night when it rained. Lost trust? He could sense a wall between them despite their attempts to rekindle the feelings that existed in the beginning. Maybe it was just the Slayer in her seeking domination over her vampire prey, but sex with Buffy was more like a battle of wills.
He enjoyed a good fight now and then, but his fantasies of making slow, tender, achingly sweet love to her were over. Still, who was he to complain? Post-patrol sex was practically expected of him. Despite her desire— no, demand— to be on top every time, her cunt was hot and snug, squeezing his cock in the most incredible way as she rode him to orgasm. His body was sated by their wild coupling even if is soul was not. If he was lucky, they cuddled a bit afterward gracing him with an echoing reminder of the way he once loved her.
Pathetic. Buffy was not entirely to blame, but it was all too apparent that the healthiest relationship in their inner circle belonged to Angelus and Cordelia despite the vampire’s natural tendency toward exhibitionism. Although it might not be far-fetched to assume Angelus first imagined their relationship would be spent entirely in bed, he willingly spent time on activities that she enjoyed. Maybe it was just that Cordelia had the temerity to talk her mate into doing just about anything— and him too.
Was it so wrong to want an inkling of what they had together? Maybe. Probably. Okay, definitely yes. Wrong. Only because it was not just their relationship he wanted. It was Cordelia.
Angel slugged back the last of his drink enjoying the burn. He decided that he had enough, and since the rain was not letting up, that he might as well head home. The fifteen-minute walk from the center of town back to Crawford Street left him soaked to the skin, dripping wet and even colder than usual. Welcome misery, and no doubt well deserved.
A stealthy entry through a back entrance allowed him to make his way into the laundry room. Stripping down to his bare skin, he discarded his sodden clothing for a towel fresh from the dryer. Still warm, it felt so good as he wrapped it around his hips taking away the chill as his body absorbed the heat. All he wanted was a hot shower, but the clothing piled up on the floor tugged at his compulsion. Making a minimal effort, Angel tossed it all into the empty basket sitting next to the dryer.
Grabbing a couple of extra towels, he turned around to find Cordelia quietly observing him from the doorway. He was almost certain she had not been standing there very long. She wore an oversize navy blue robe that once belonged to him. A hint of something black and lacy lay beneath. His eyes lingered on the hollow of her throat, the tantalizing hint of cleavage, and the way her nipples peaked against the silk.
Barefoot, which he supposed was the reason she managed to surprise him, she stepped into the laundry room. A tightening centered in his chest as Angel realized he would not have to wait any longer for their confrontation. Not waiting for her to pounce, he asked, “Where is Angelus?”
“Down in the basement pummeling the punching bag,” she said with a roll of her eyes. “We had fight.” Adding a big sigh, Cordelia provided no details as though the reason should be self-explanatory.
Angel said nothing as his mind weighed in on several possibilities. The determined expression on her beautiful face told him to squelch any hope that he would escape a similar tongue-lashing. Just as expected, it stung, and he made no effort to cut her off when she reminded him of their deal.
At the end of her little tirade, Cordelia stood with her hands on her hips, waiting impatiently for an apology owed to her, but one he was not about to give. He could not because she valued honesty. “I’m not going to tell you that I’m sorry for walking in on you.”
“That wasn’t an accident. You knew what we were doing.”
Angel took a step closer so that she had to tilt her head up to meet his gaze. It was a power play he knew all too well, but he needed it. The hitch in her breathing proved that it worked as she struggled to maintain eye contact instead of stealing a glimpse or two at his bare torso.
He could not claim ignorance, so he decided to keep going with the truth. “Vampire hearing. I know every time. Every sound you make.”
Cordelia’s mouth formed a soft circle. “Oh.” Mixed emotions clung to that single syllable, embarrassment and shock, and a hint of wonder.
“You’re angry at Angelus for calling my bluff. He offered to let me watch knowing that was the least of what I wanted. If I am sorry for anything, Cordelia, it is giving up the right of my claim on you.”
Now he had confused her. She looked hurt. “Why now? I’m with Angelus and you have Buffy.”
Angel made a gruff sound, turning just long enough to drop the extra towels and boots on top of the washing machine before taking hold of her arms with both hands. He felt her tremble beneath his touch, not necessarily in a good way. How should he answer her question without making himself out to be a selfish prick? Right. More truth. Or at least the version of truth he could swallow.
“I told you once before that it is difficult to separate myself from you when all my senses tell me that it’s still somehow me, and not Angelus, who is making love to you. Sometimes I cannot stop thinking about it. Tonight, I had to see the two of you together, prove to myself that this attraction I feel is all one-sided.”
Cordelia’s forthright gaze dropped away at his confession. She held her breath, struggling for something to say that would not ruin everything, and despite knowing that a denial would be crushing, Angel willed her to say it. Say anything to convince him that he was an idiot for imagining that some shred of her former crush survived. He needed to hear her say that she felt nothing for him. That all of her feelings, all of her love and lust was for Angelus.
He cupped her face in his hands, fingers threading through the loose locks of her hair, his eyes daring her to say what he needed to hear. “Tell me what you’re thinking, Cordy.”
Even as her hands branded him with warmth as they pressed against his damp chest, Cordelia sounded far away. “Angelus loves me. I love him, too. Crazy, I suppose, but there it is.”
“I know,” Angel nodded slowly, “and, yes, it is crazy, but you’re good for each other. Deep down, I know that, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting you.”
There was that oh again, this time silent and wide-eyed. It took a lot to silence Cordelia Chase and it seemed he had just found a way to do it. Angel thought of another as his gaze dropped to those lush lips, but he could not kiss her, not when she belonged to Angelus.
“We, ah…we need to work on the whole privacy thing,” Cordelia managed to stay on task despite the fact that Angel could sense that his confession had aroused her.
Angelus’ sudden appearance in the doorway told him that the other vampire overheard the entire conversation.
“Is that really what you want, baby? You have a soft spot for Angel. Always have. Don’t bother to deny it,” he cut off her quick rebuttal. “No matter what he’s up to with the Slayer these days, he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. We both know you like the attention.”
Heightened color brightening her cheeks and throat suggesting Angelus was right on target. Cordelia squirmed away from them both, turning away briefly, releasing a soft self-directed laugh that left him wondering what she was thinking.
“Okay, fine. Of course I like attention,” Cordelia shrugged a shoulder. “Cheerleader here. Having guys look at me is normal. Not like this. Not when we’re doing it.”
“Even if it turns you on?” Angelus actually chuckled. “There’s no need to pretend. I could feel your reaction when you saw him watching us. Part of you liked it.”
Strange enough that Angelus had not made an attempt to rip his head off, but it actually sounded like he was trying to convince her that this was not a “creepy stalker routine” after all. Maybe it was true, but he found it increasingly difficult to stay away. As if there was some internal imperative drawing him to her. Something he could no longer ignore.
Asking her, “Do you think about me, Cordelia? I think about you.” Angel edged an inch closer even though he was fully aware that her mate was standing only a few feet away. “Watching you tonight was amazing. Seeing you that way. Imagining it was me inside you.”
“We have to stay under the same roof,” Angelus reminded them of one criterion of the Fates’ deal. “Privacy is overrated. Looking is not the same as touching. You are my mate, Cordelia, not my property. Clan law dictates that Angel needs permission to touch you, but there is no reason we cannot play a few games.”
The main game being ‘torture Angel’ was probably a hidden motive. Seeing Cordelia without being able to act on his desires would be hell indeed, but at least it was something. According to custom, Angelus had every right to bar him from being anywhere near her, not that Angel would agree to doing so. He still possessed the Ring of Aurelius, and was technically still the clan master. At least he believed that to be the case. Angelus might think otherwise.
As Angel watched her face lightening up, and sensed the subtle shift from fear to arousal, he knew that he was the victor here. Although his ‘brother’ might think he was holding some power over him by letting him observe without getting anything physical out of it, this was still a foot in the door, so to speak. Cordelia would never see him as a family member or just a friend ever again.
Cordelia asked only one question. “Just the three of us, right?”
That should have been obvious for a number of reasons. “Right.” No way on Earth would he ever tell Buffy about tonight or any future games he was invited to play. He was rather fond of his family jewels and preferred to keep them attached.
“A little harmless fun. Just us. Nothing serious. That’s kind of hot,” Cordelia admitted that the idea was more appealing than she had first led him to believe. Playing a sexy game was different that being having a personal stalker living under the same roof.
Yeah, he might have deserved that one, but Angel was inwardly elated that everything seemed to be going his way. Cordelia might believe this was just about enjoying naughty fun and games, but he knew that she felt more for him than just simple attraction. While Angelus might think he had come up with a new method of torturing him with the look-but-don’t-touch-Cordelia criteria, he had cracked open a door formerly sealed tight.
That was all Angel needed. Just an excuse to do something about the feelings that were twisting up inside him. A chance to discover what it was that made him need Cordelia so much. Also, an opportunity to turn the tables on Angelus and whatever deviant, sadistic plans he was dreaming up to get back at him for being the soul he was cursed with, and the reason he was now shackled to the Slayer’s cause.
At some point there would be a reckoning. For now Angel had every intention of taking advantage of Cordelia’s curiosity and Angelus’ scheming. They had no idea the extent to which his instincts made him burn with lust, jealousy and rage. Before this was over he would see to it that Cordelia loved him just as passionately as she claimed to love Angelus. Because her heart was worth claiming, and he felt its pull like a magnet.
End of Scene
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