The next two days were interesting. Angel had very little time to spend with me. He woke with a phone call and sent me a text when he was free. I think he was too busy to be anxious about not following a schedule. I could tell that he was going to crash though. He was exhausted. I met him for lunch, and for dinner and his boss let him have the evenings free. Vegas was busy, and Angel kept going with me even though he was dead on his feet.
I hadn’t planned it this way, but I was taking a shower alone when I heard the door open and close. Angel was quiet, but I smelled coffee brewing in the carfe in our room – his room. But it really didn’t look much more like his room than any other room. His things were neatly stored, his room looked relatively untouched except for the coffee cup sitting on the sink. 6 weeks and it still looked like he just got here. He didn’t have a decor personality or he was just that neat all the time. I kinda wished I’d seen his bedroom more often before all this. Just to compare… but I had the rest of my life I planned on watching him grow. Watching us grow.
When I walked out I noticed the curtains were open and Angel was standing in front of them. It was his last shift and he was tired. I saw it written all over his face. He stood staring out the window and I walked over in just my jeans and wrapped my arms around him and listened to the small hum as he covered my hands with his. I rested my chin on his shoulder and looked past him to see what he was looking at.
I hadn’t really paid much attention when I came in to our vicinity. I figured the curtains were closed because the view wasn’t great. But I had been wrong. It was perfect. A view of the strip and the Paris across the street and the fountain down below. “Why did you keep the curtains closed with this view?” I asked him.
He laughed, “After the first week it kept me awake so I just never opened them. I wasn’t here anyway to enjoy the view.”
I hadn’t planned it this way. But it worked for me. I’d been carrying the fucking thing for weeks even though Angel wasn’t even in town. The only preson who knew was Mandy which meant Drew knew. And if Drew knew Finn knew and they all kept quiet about it. Never once saying anything. I think they were all afraid I would chicken out. But I don’t chicken out…
I pulled my hand from his and reached into my pocket pulling him tighter against me with my other hand.
“I had a dream like this once.”
“Yeah?” He asked.
“I was in Paris with some random girl, at least I think it was a girl, you know how dreams are. I kissed her right here.” I pressed a soft kiss just above his tattoo, “She had a tattoo like you do right there. I think it was he same one.”
“Oh really?” Angel sounded amused. “I see what you think of me.”
I laughed. “It was just a dream, pretty boy. It didn’t mean much at the time. But she turned around in my arms and fell to a knee with a ring in a box…”
He hummed his amusement. “Is that something you want me to do? Propose to you?” Angel didn’t turn around in my arms. He pulled me tighter against him and I wrapped him up in both my arms, the ring resting in the palm of my hand.
I shook my head, “No.” I opened my hand and turned my palm up, “Look down, Angel.”
He looked down and I heard his breath catch. “Marry me, Angel.” I didn’t ask. It was a question, but I already knew the answer.
He picked up the ring in his hand and nodded with a whispered “Yes.” He was staring at the ring, the black metal and the wood inlay with the gold etchings. “It’s perfect.” He grinned as he slid it on his finger. “Does this mean you want the big wedding?”
I laughed. “Whatever you want, Angel.”
He turned and wrapped his arms around my neck and pressed a kiss to my lips. “I only want you. I didn’t need this, but I’ll gladly take it.”
He pushed me backwards with the weight of his body until my legs buckled and we crashed on the the neatly made bed. For every time my pretty boy asked permission to take what he wanted, for every time he gave me exactly what I wanted, I wasn’t surprised when he took exactly what he wanted from me after I had proposed to him. His mouth devoured mine. His hands caressed and stroked my body firmly and gently, but never like he was asking permission. He sucked my cock until I was ready to burst from the utter pleasure he evoked with his lips and tongue and his throat. I wanted all of him, and he gave me every bit of himself as he rode my cock. He was mine, and I was his and even if shit hit the fan down the road, I knew that if we were together, we’d work it out. No more running away, no more being alone. Me and my pretty boy.
The End (for now, I’m not done with Zane and Angel yet)