Title: Lessons In Life 4: Choices

Author/pseudonym: Lyric

Fandom: Angel

Paring: Angel/Doyle

Rating: R

Status: New

Archive: Unless I already gave you permission, please ask first.

Series/Sequel: Part of the 'Lessons in Life' series.

Disclaimers: Angel and Doyle are only borrowed, not stolen. I swear.

Notes: I'm back... This takes place a few days after 'Aches and Pains'.

Summary: Angel returns home to find Doyle waiting for him.

Warnings: M/M implications. Lots of angst ahead.

LESSONS IN LIFE 4: CHOICES

It was nearly dawn when Angel finally returned to his home. He could feel the slight sting of the impending sunlight as he pulled his car into the parking garage of his building. The stinging only added to the discomfort of his already aching body.

The last few days seemed like a frenzied blur; as was usually the case in the wake of one of Doyle's visions. 'The Powers That Be' had kept true to form by sending a real doozy of a case; complete with demons, murder, and a seemingly unending supply of violence.

The latter of which Angel had been an active recipient.

Finally, the case had been wrapped up, and Angel was looking forward to nothing more than resting. He walked wearily from the elevator, and with a sluggishness that was unusual for the agile vampire, began to make his way towards his bed. He pulled off his coat, and dropped it on the couch as he passed.

"Oof!"

Angel was startled by the soft noise, and days of surprised attacks had done a number on his nerves. He spun around beside the couch,and in the process, managed to get his feet tangled with Doyle's outstretched ones, and fell gracelessly on his butt.

Doyle, for his part, was still swimming his way out of the coat that was dumped on him. When he finally surfaced, he was greeted by the sight of a sprawled vampire lying on the floor beside him, looking startled, confused, and blinking owlishly up at him.

Doyle laughed out loud.

With that, Angel's concern melted into annoyance. Too many days of too much fighting and not nearly enough rest, had shorten his patience to non-existent. He pulled himself from the floor with an angry glare at the half-demon who was desperately trying to compose himself on the couch.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped.

The sharp tone seemed to work wonders on the still snickering Doyle. All humor fled from his face. He coughed slightly and stood as well.

"Um, I just wanted to hang around to see if you were really all right when you got home. I know that you've had a bad time these last few days, but I must have nodded off on your couch." v "I called you and Cordelia and told you that everything was taken care of. I don't need you invading my home when I'm not here. All I want to do right now is get some sleep, and to do that, I need privacy."

Doyle looked at him, clearly taken back by the tirade. Angel couldn't help his anger. Not only had the last few days been hard on him, but he was in no mood to deal with the confusing emotions that rose whenever Doyle was around.

No, if he were honest with himself, he would admit that the feelings weren't confusing at all. He knew what they were, and where they were fast leading.

And he couldn't allow it.

But each time he was near Doyle; each time he heard his voice or saw his smile, those feelings grew harder and harder to ignore. Tonight, with his soul still raw and exposed from the last few day's events, he knew that he wouldn't be strong enough to stop his emotions from surfacing.

Doyle snapped out of his shock. He looked at Angel with a shuttered gaze that nearly broke the vampire's heart, after seeing only openness and understanding in those breath-takingly beautiful eyes since their first meeting.

"All right, then. I'll just leave you be."

With that, he turned to leave.

Damnit.

"Doyle, wait! I -- I didn't mean to snap at you like that. I'm just really tired, and in some serious need of sleep. I didn't mean anything."

Christ, that sounded pathetic even to him.

Doyle spoke in a light tone, but it was obvious to anyone who cared -- to Angel -- that it was forced. Not only that, but Doyle had not turned back around to look at him while he spoke, which Angel knew was a bad sign. Doyle continued towards the elevator, but in a few long strides, Angel caught up with him and lightly grabbed his arm.

"I mean it, Doyle. I don't mind you being here; I'm actually glad you are."

The truth of the last statement hit Angel pretty hard. It was true, though. Ever since he had walked in and found Doyle on his couch, he had felt some of the tension that he had been carrying around drain slightly, despite his sour mood. It surprised him, but it really shouldn't have. Doyle's presence always had that effect on him, no matter the circumstances.

It frightened him a little to realize that one person had so much power over his state of mind.

Doyle was still tense under his grip, but Angel felt him begin to relax. He only hoped that it would be enough to make him stay, so they could make things right between the two of them once again. No matter what else may happen, Doyle's friendship was a precious thing, and he did not want to risk losing it. The vampire just barely managed to contain his sigh of relief when Doyle finally relented and turned in his grip.

The grip that Angel still had on his arm, where the heat from Doyle's incredibly soft skin was seeping deliciously into his own...

Angel dropped his hand.

It could have been his imagination, but he could have sworn that he saw the corners of Doyle's mouth twitch at the sudden movement.

Suddenly slightly nervous, Angel turned towards the direction of the couch and sat down. Doyle followed suite, and sat beside him. They were silent for a few seconds, before Doyle broke in,

"Well, anyway, I thought it would be the nice thing to do to stick around and see to any needs you may have, seeing that you were so accommodating to me when I was ill."

Needs, eh? Yeah, there are a few needs you can take care of --

STOP.

Down, boy.

"That's really nice of you, Doyle, but I think I'll be all right."

"The thing is, I never got to thank you for helping me out. I was in pretty bad shape, and I appreciated you getting me down here. You know, putting me in your bed."

Angel knew that he didn't imagine Doyle slowly edging closer while he spoke, and he figured that had better do something before things got out of hand.

"You're welcome. It was my pleasure. Anytime."

Brilliant.

And he KNEW his voice wasn't that husky.

However, going by the smile that appeared on Doyle's face that immediately sent a slow burn curling steadily southward in Angel's body, it probably was.

Doyle was right beside him, now. The heat from where the half-demon's thigh pressed against his own was almost staggering. Angel turned his head to say something -- anything -- to stop this disastrously wonderful moment that was spiralling out of reason and control all too quickly, but it was then that Doyle's hand reached up and wrapped around the back of his neck. When the vampire did speak, his voice was nothing more than a broken whisper.

"Doyle, this isn't --"

A finger slowly tracing the strong curve of his jaw interrupted him.

"Yes it is, Angel." was whispered back, and then he was being kissed.

He had to stop this. This couldn't happen. But the not-quite-human scent that had touched him ever since Doyle first waited for him at his home was never quite so close before, and as the lips pressed deeper and more insistent against his own, the wonderful smell brought with it a taste that seeped into the crease of his still closed mouth.

And it wasn't his fault, he decided.

Doyle had come to him -- no, had been SENT to him, by 'The Powers That Be', and it was Their fault, really, because They supposedly knew all about him, so They should have known that he wouldn't be able to resist this, resist Their messenger, who had placed the hand that wasn't around his neck over his silent heart, as if the half-demon could somehow still feel the echoes of the rhythm that had been quiet for so long now.

Angel opened his mouth, and accepted this gift and torture, and the taste that he had only just begun to experience invaded his mouth, and he couldn't help but savor it. His arms wrapped around Doyle's waist to try and pull him closer, and Doyle must have known what he wanted, because he always seemed to know exactly what Angel wanted, and the smaller man pulled himself up and worked his way into his lap, until he was straddling the vampire quite efficiently.

Angel had to let this happen, had to feel this, had to _feel_. Just like he had to push Doyle's shirt up so he could feel the smooth skin on his back, because Doyle was so warm in his arms, and he himself was cold, so cold, and it seemed that he had been cold forever. He needed this, this warmth to go on, and he was warming up after all, because he could feel the heat, now, in his own body, centered at his groin where he was so hot and so hard.

This was what he had been running away from, and as he thrust his tongue as far as he wanted, as far as he could, into Doyle's mouth so that he could taste and touch each part of the wet and hot cavern without missing anything, he forgot about the reasons, about everything, actually, except the squirming body over his. He arched his back as a fingernail scraped through the cotton of his shirt across an erect nipple. That seemed all the encouragement Doyle needed, as the hand slipped underneath the shirt to gain better access, and this time when the fingernail scraped across it, Angel accompanied the arch of his back with a loud moan straight into Doyle's mouth.

He felt so alive, even though he knew that he wasn't, not any more, but in moments like this, when he could feel Doyle's hand slip down his chest and go lower, lower, *Christ*, he could remember how it felt to be so full of life that you almost mourned each second that went by because it had been so wonderful, and it seemed that nothing could ever be that good to you again, but the next second is even better, and then the next, and the next, and Doyle's hand had finally found his zipper, and he felt wonderful, beyond that, really, beyond words, and he hadn't felt this way since --

Oh. God.

No.

He ripped his mouth viciously from Doyle's, and struggled to push him away, and Doyle struggled to keep him there, and he was actually quite strong, stronger than he looked, but Angel was, after all, a two hundred and forty year-old vampire, so he managed to push Doyle off of him, and in the process, discovered that he was perched at the end of the couch that he had no idea he had gotten so close to, and fell, once again, on his butt.

So that was how for the second time that morning he found himself sprawled on the floor beside the couch, blinking up at Doyle.

The room was silent except for the loud sounds of their harsh panting. The two men sat there for long moments, just looking at each other; each looking shell-shocked. Then, Angel was on his feet, moving away from Doyle. He had to get some distance so he could clear his still hazy mind.

Then he heard footsteps behind him, and he knew that Doyle had gotten off the couch. He turned around and said,

"Please, Doyle."

Nothing more. Those two words were all that he could manage, and although they could have meant a thousand different things, Doyle understood exactly what they meant, because he stopped.

It must have been written all over his face, drilled into his dark eyes; the pain of what he was, the agony of having everything that he could possibly ever want in his hands only to be forced to push it away.

He was cold, and now he felt that coldness more distinctly than he could ever remember.

He thought that Doyle was going to leave; maybe even offer a mumbled apology. So, Angel wasn't prepared when he said,

"Don't do this to yourself, Angel."

What?

What was he doing to himself? He was saving himself; saving Doyle. And Doyle should know that, because he knew all about Angel's curse and his limitations. He should have known how it utterly ripped the vampire apart when he pulled away. He should have known that it was still tearing at him to look at Doyle standing so close, and knowing he would never be his. He should have understood this, and the fact that he didn't, angered Angel so much that the vampire felt absolutely enraged.

In a flash, he flew at Doyle. It was so quick, the half-demon had no time to react before he was grabbed and slammed against a wall. Angel heard the woosh of air as it left Doyle's lungs, but he didn't release him; he simply held him hard against the wall. Doyle looked frightened even as he struggled to regain his breath. Angel knew he was wearing his game face, but he didn't care.

Once again, Doyle surprised him when he managed to gasp, "You're not alone, Angel."

He released Doyle as quickly as he had grabbed him, and stumbled backwards. He turned away because he could not stand to meet the eyes that looked at him no longer with fear, but with a simple honesty that showed his belief in his words.

"Yes I am. Leave, Doyle. This time I mean it."

"No, Angel. I won't do that."

Angel suddenly had no more energy to feel angry. Instead, he felt defeated. His shoulders slumped as he closed his eyes in weariness.

A gentle hand hesitantly touched his shoulder, and he felt himself being turned around. They stood there not saying anything, until Doyle said, "I know I'm not much to look at, but you could open your eyes."

The friendly humor that almost hid the quaver in the beloved voice, was just enough to lend Angel the strength to do what he was asked. Doyle was watching him, and smiled when he saw his eyes open.

"I'm sorry if I moved a little too fast back there. But I would be lying if I told you I regretted it."

"Doyle, you know about my curse. Why are you doing this to me?"

Doyle flinched slightly at the accusation, but continued on.

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Angel. But, ever since we met, I have seen you keep yourself isolated from everyone in your life. Even after you befriended me and Cordelia, you still continued that distance."

He placed his other hand on Angel's arm.

"You don't have to, Angel. What's more, you can't. No one can make it through life alone, not even you."

He knew he was telling the truth. In everything that was important, Doyle always did.

"My curse--"

Doyle held up his hand.

"Like I said, I moved a little too fast back there, and I'm sorry if I pushed you. Listen, I really like being in your life. I like being your friend, and I can't say I would have any objections with being something more. But, I guess you kinda picked up on that over there on the couch, eh?"

He continued in a more gentle tone.

"But this isn't about what I want, now, it's about you knowing that you don't have to keep up your walls around everyone you meet in your life. It's all right to let one or two slip in."

He wanted to laugh in his face. He wanted to believe him. Any attempts at lowering his defenses always ended up hurting him. Could he let himself take another chance?

God, he wanted to.

"I--I have to think about it."

Doyle smiled wide, and his eyes brimmed with hope.

"Well, good. That's a start, at least."

Doyle suddenly looked very tired, and Angel knew he must look the same way. A lot had happened this morning, and they both had a lot to process.

Great. He sounded like a shrink.

"Well, I guess I should be heading home." Doyle said.

He grimaced a little when he moved his shoulder. Angel flashed back to throwing him against the wall, and immediately felt guilty.

"Are you all right? I'm sorry for, you know, throwing you against the wall."

"I'm fine. Don't worry about it." He grinned and said, "I would love to tell you that you're beautiful when you're angry, but in all honesty, I thought I was going to be in need of a new pair of pants."

Chuckling to himself, Doyle headed towards the elevator.

End