cheesygirl (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
cheesygirl) wrote2005-03-17 01:20 pm
cheesygirl) wrote2005-03-17 01:20 pm
I *heart* Irish vampires
Happy St. Patrick's Day! Here be a silly little ficlet involving an Englishman, his Irish vampire boyfriend, and some wacky ass-pinching fun.
“OW! Whaddya do that for?” Angel yelped as Cordelia pinched his arm.
“You’re not wearing green and today’s St. Patrick’s Day. You’re Irish! You should know this stuff.” Cordelia looked at him in disbelief.
“I know what day it is, I just don’t have a lot of green clothes.” Angel explained.
“What about that hunter green shirt I gave you? That not green enough for you? Or wasn’t it the right shade of dark and miserable?”
Angel felt a second of panic as he remembered the last place he’d seen that shirt: a couple of nights ago, crumpled up in Wesley’s bed. Wesley had slowly removed it from him, whispering in Angel’s ear, “This color suits you. It brings out your eyes. But I think I like you better like this…” and then proceeded to run his slender hands over Angel’s bare shoulders and—
“Angel! Are you even listening to me?” Cordelia said in exasperation. “You didn’t start the celebrating early, did you?” She mimed tossing back a shot.
“What? No, no, I…I think that shirt is at the laundry. I wore it the other day.” Angel put on his best poker face, which really wasn’t a difficult thing for him to do.
Cordelia appeared a little skeptical as she said, “Uh-huh. If you say so.” She reached toward Angel’s arm.
Angel flinched. “Hey, don’t pinch me again! I’ll find something green to wear, okay?”
Cordelia sighed and reached past Angel to the file on his desk. “I was only picking up the Thompson file, Mr. McWhineypants.”
“Oh.” Angel sat back and desperately hoped she’d change the subject. He really wasn’t ready to fill Cordelia in on his and Wesley’s new partnership yet.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got something green you can wear. I’ll be right back.” Cordelia walked over to her desk and started rummaging in her handbag.
Angel reminded himself to ask Wesley to return his shirt. It had ended up tangled in the sheets and temporarily forgotten in the heat of their lovemaking. It was so badly wrinkled that Wesley insisted Angel take something of his to wear home and he’d have the shirt sent out with his own things to be cleaned and pressed. Angel also reminded himself to return Wesley’s shirt. He still hadn’t sent it to the laundry. It smelled like Wesley, and Angel couldn’t resist holding it to his face and breathing in Wesley’s scent when he was alone.
The door opened and Wesley came into the office. Wesley not only remembered what day it was; Wesley also remembered to wear green. Specifically, he was wearing Angel’s dark green shirt, which was now clean and pressed and hanging loosely yet fetchingly on Wesley’s lanky frame.
“Good morning all!" Wesley said cheerily. He gave Angel his brightest smile. "And a very Happy St. Patrick’s Day.”
Cordelia turned around and looked at Wesley. Then at Angel. Then at Wesley’s shirt. Then back at Angel. Suddenly everything clicked into place in her head. Her eyes widened in realization and she turned around and continued to search in her handbag.
“Wes! You’re wearing… green. Heh” Angel said a little nervously.
“Well of course I am.” Wesley grinned conspiratorially at Angel. “And I see that you aren’t. You know what that means…” Wesley reached over and quickly pinched Angel’s butt before he could move out of reach. Angel squeaked and batted Wesley’s hand away from his ass. “Wes!” he hissed. “Not here!”
Cordelia turned around and smiled at them both. “Found it! I have just the thing for the occasion, as always.” She pinned something on Angel’s lapel. He looked down and saw a button that demanded in kelly green letters, “Kiss me, I’m Irish!”
Cordelia smiled and stage whispered to Angel, “But I see Wesley already got the message!”
“OW! Whaddya do that for?” Angel yelped as Cordelia pinched his arm.
“You’re not wearing green and today’s St. Patrick’s Day. You’re Irish! You should know this stuff.” Cordelia looked at him in disbelief.
“I know what day it is, I just don’t have a lot of green clothes.” Angel explained.
“What about that hunter green shirt I gave you? That not green enough for you? Or wasn’t it the right shade of dark and miserable?”
Angel felt a second of panic as he remembered the last place he’d seen that shirt: a couple of nights ago, crumpled up in Wesley’s bed. Wesley had slowly removed it from him, whispering in Angel’s ear, “This color suits you. It brings out your eyes. But I think I like you better like this…” and then proceeded to run his slender hands over Angel’s bare shoulders and—
“Angel! Are you even listening to me?” Cordelia said in exasperation. “You didn’t start the celebrating early, did you?” She mimed tossing back a shot.
“What? No, no, I…I think that shirt is at the laundry. I wore it the other day.” Angel put on his best poker face, which really wasn’t a difficult thing for him to do.
Cordelia appeared a little skeptical as she said, “Uh-huh. If you say so.” She reached toward Angel’s arm.
Angel flinched. “Hey, don’t pinch me again! I’ll find something green to wear, okay?”
Cordelia sighed and reached past Angel to the file on his desk. “I was only picking up the Thompson file, Mr. McWhineypants.”
“Oh.” Angel sat back and desperately hoped she’d change the subject. He really wasn’t ready to fill Cordelia in on his and Wesley’s new partnership yet.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got something green you can wear. I’ll be right back.” Cordelia walked over to her desk and started rummaging in her handbag.
Angel reminded himself to ask Wesley to return his shirt. It had ended up tangled in the sheets and temporarily forgotten in the heat of their lovemaking. It was so badly wrinkled that Wesley insisted Angel take something of his to wear home and he’d have the shirt sent out with his own things to be cleaned and pressed. Angel also reminded himself to return Wesley’s shirt. He still hadn’t sent it to the laundry. It smelled like Wesley, and Angel couldn’t resist holding it to his face and breathing in Wesley’s scent when he was alone.
The door opened and Wesley came into the office. Wesley not only remembered what day it was; Wesley also remembered to wear green. Specifically, he was wearing Angel’s dark green shirt, which was now clean and pressed and hanging loosely yet fetchingly on Wesley’s lanky frame.
“Good morning all!" Wesley said cheerily. He gave Angel his brightest smile. "And a very Happy St. Patrick’s Day.”
Cordelia turned around and looked at Wesley. Then at Angel. Then at Wesley’s shirt. Then back at Angel. Suddenly everything clicked into place in her head. Her eyes widened in realization and she turned around and continued to search in her handbag.
“Wes! You’re wearing… green. Heh” Angel said a little nervously.
“Well of course I am.” Wesley grinned conspiratorially at Angel. “And I see that you aren’t. You know what that means…” Wesley reached over and quickly pinched Angel’s butt before he could move out of reach. Angel squeaked and batted Wesley’s hand away from his ass. “Wes!” he hissed. “Not here!”
Cordelia turned around and smiled at them both. “Found it! I have just the thing for the occasion, as always.” She pinned something on Angel’s lapel. He looked down and saw a button that demanded in kelly green letters, “Kiss me, I’m Irish!”
Cordelia smiled and stage whispered to Angel, “But I see Wesley already got the message!”