Angel finds Cordelia to be touchable, and she likes it.
CONTENTS: C/A in AtS
LENGTH: Drabble Collection (Four 100-word Drabbles) / Ficlet 400 words
FICPIC CREDIT: Lysa
Practicing Tai Chi moves and hand to hand defensive techniques, Cordelia always impresses Angel. Muscle memory gets her through the moves as if she made them a thousand times. Perfect, like the rest of her. Stray thoughts like those distract him, along with the fact that she can talk her way out of the tight spots. He falls for it—and for her—every time. Angel has no idea when her beauty started to become a thing for him, when her annoying habits started to be charming, or how the need to touch her became something vital. It just is.
Angel ls just a little off today. Distracted. Enough for her to win a few rounds despite his unfair advantages: speed, strength, and salty goodness. The task at hand usually keeps her focused. No nonsense. Few distractions. He is one of them more and more. When did he stop being her sweaty instructor / boss / best friend and become the one she wanted to roll across a mattress with? A sudden move pulls her back against his chest. Cordelia expects a drop kick or a flip, but not the slide of Angel’s hand around her bare waist holding her there.
Like the rest of her the patch of taut belly he finds is damp with perspiration, slick to the touch as his thumb brushes a lazy circle around the rim of Cordelia’s exposed navel. If only it was his tongue licking the salty skin there. Cursing inwardly at the inappropriate thought, yet continuing anyway, he is as still as a statue except for that thumb, afraid to move, terrified that this simple touch will lead to the kind of arousal he cannot hide from her. Cordelia notices everything and is pushy enough to call him on it if she does.
One innocent little touch and her entire body takes notice shouting for similar attention. That makes her panic a little, look for excuses. Revved up from their melee. Not because he was turning her on. An unbidden sigh makes her relax against him hoping that touch means more.
Answering after a long pause, “Taking a breather,”Angel continues his tantalizingly slow strokes.
Cordelia shudders against him because it feels so good to be in his arms this way. Maybe in his subtle way, Angel’s telling her what she wants. Still, she has to point out, “You don’t breathe.”
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