`Darlin', I can't wait to see you, your picture ain't enough

I can't wait to touch you in the flesh...

If you say hello,

it'll mean you wanna see me in the flesh...

warm and soft in the flesh.'

In the Flesh (Blondie, 1981)

Michael killed the engine and looked over at Angel. The rain was steady against the roof of the car, lighting now and then tearing across the sky with thunder in close pursuit. Angel's bare feet were tucked under his body, slippers abandoned on the floorboard. He was watching Michael, his dark eyes in shadow.

Angel looked so beautiful to Michael right now, curled up beside him, his black hair mussed from sleep and gleaming in the faint streetlight. The rain on the windshield threw patterns across his face that seemed to heighten his angular beauty, seemed to make him almost unreal, the image of a boy. In fact, this moment felt unreal to Michael, he'd begun to doubt that he could get Angel so alone somewhere and so willing to listen. Angel's expression was soft; he seemed open and vulnerable just now, waiting, watching him. The pajamas were rumpled, the top button undone and the cuffs of the pants pushed upward to reveal slender ankles that disappeared under his body. Even like this, roused from sleep, he was exquisite, Michael thought, and he caught his breath, almost overcome with what he felt as Angel filled his eyes, his thoughts, his heart.

I love him, Michael thought simply. I'm not sure I've ever known anything so clearly in my life. I love Angel and, God willing, I can make him love me, too.

Michael reached out and tentatively touched the hand that rested on Angel's thigh. Angel smiled...and the rain must have slackened because Michael could almost feel the light that hit him hard from that smile, from that look, that angelic face. Angel's hand curled around his and squeezed lightly. Angel leaned close and, as Michael held his breath, kissed him once softly on the lips and pulled back, leaning again into the passenger seat. His smile was now secretive, catlike, and his body softened as he relaxed and looked steadily into Michael's eyes.

"Michael? I'm...glad you came over tonight." His voice was so soft that Michael had to strain to hear him against the rain and occasional rolling noise that fell from the dark sky. What had Angel said? His voice was like the patter of rain itself, gentle, low, soothing. Michael's heart felt full, tight almost to bursting, as he watched, unable to look away from the other boy. I love you, I love you, I love you was all the thought Michael could recognize right now. How long had it been that he'd wanted this? Alone at last with Angel and...Angel was smiling. Dear God in heaven, thank you. He felt Angel's hand tighten on his again.

"Michael? Are you alright?" Angel asked, his voice rising a little to be heard over the storm outside the car.

Michael shook himself, clearing his head. I must look like a fool, he thought.

"Sorry...my mind's a little...fuzzy right now." He smiled back into those black eyes as he spoke.

Angel grinned and released Michael's hand, pulling back to arch against the seat and lift his hands above him briefly in a stretch, returning them to his knees. Watching Angel's slender body move made Michael's breath stop as his heart disengaged his brain. Without thinking, he reached across, cupped his hand around the back of Angel's head, and pulled him near. Angel's lips felt hot against his and he pushed into them, sliding his tongue in as his other hand wrapped around Angel's shoulder to urge him closer. Angel's body melted into his as he returned the kiss, his rapid breath warm on Michael's face. Angel's hands slid up between his arms, up his chest and around to link behind his neck, pulling him into the kiss. He groaned and felt Angel's hands tighten. As Michael pressed closer, he felt the gearshift against his thigh, a little too close for safety, and started, gasping at the discomfort. Angel pulled back, laughing.

"Maybe taking me parking wasn't such a great idea?" Angel asked in a playful tone.

Michael blushed, releasing Angel and leaned back into the driver's seat.

"Not a lot of room in this car, I admit." he told the other boy, trying to regain his composure. He shifted in the seat, wanting to adjust inside his jeans but unwilling to draw Angel's attention there. Angel laughed again and stroked his hand down Michael's nearer arm, bringing up goosebumps on the athlete.

"What, you haven't gone parking in this car before, Mike?" Angel asked.

Michael flushed deeper.

"Actually, no. I usually drive the beamer on weekends, in fact, but this was the one Dad left the keys out for so I took it." he explained. "It's a little bit cramped in front, I guess."

"Your Dad lets you drive his car?" Angel asked.

Michael nodded. "Let's me drive both, really, he's a nice guy and it's just the two of us. Him and Mom are divorced and I'm with him most of the time." Michael studied Angel, trying to gauge his interest, ready to drop the subject.

Angel's eyes widened.

"Your Dad has two cars?" Angel asked.

Michael shrugged. "Yeah, the beamer and this one."

Angel looked around the inside of the car.

"I've never seen a car like this, Mike, is it some kind of race car?"

Michael laughed, his eyes lighting up. "Sort of, it's a Lotus Elise 340R, my Dad's crazy about it, it drives like nothing else on earth and he even taught me to drive in it! We took it in for my driving test and you should have seen the guy's face, his eyes just about fell out of his head. He asked Dad why he'd let a kid drive a car like this and Dad's face, oh man, Dad suddenly got a foot taller and this killer look on his face. You do not tell my father what to do, you just don't. Not if you have a brain, you don't, but this guy, oh man. He just went on at Dad about what a fine car this was and how it wasn't a toy." Michael chuckled, shaking his head.

"Dad just about tore the guy a new asshole, telling him not to fucking assume that just because someone was a teenager that he was irresponsible and stuff. Dad was awesome. And the guy let me take the test in it, of course, what else could he do? But he sure as hell didn't like it." Michael looked over at Angel's blank expression, suddenly aware he'd gushed a little too much, maybe. Dammit, he didn't want to come off like a spoiled kid or something. Ranting on about a car, of all things, damn, what would Angel think? Angel looked amused, though, to Michael's relief.

"I'm guessing you and your Dad like cars, huh?" Angel asked, bemused.

"Uh, yeah, sorry about that, yeah we do like cars, I like cars, and I like this car. A lot. But sorry, Angel, I didn't mean to go on and on about it." Michael said, apologetic.

Angel's expression grew serious as he spoke.

"I don't know anything about cars, Michael. I don't know anything about cars, about football, probably don't know anything about a lot of things you like."

Michael frowned. "What're you saying?"

Angel shrugged. "I mean we're different, that's what I mean."

Michael's frown deepened, his forehead creasing. "Look, Angel...I know we're different but if you're trying to say that I don't know what I'm doing asking you out, well, you're just wrong and I think you're being...well, a little prejudiced if you wanna know the truth."

Lightning flashed a jagged edge through the night sky.

Angel stared at Michael. "I'm prejudiced? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Angel looked annoyed. A blast of thunder hit nearby, a rolling boom of sound that faded slowly.

Michael bit his lip. He'd forgotten about Angel's temper.

"Look, I mean...don't get mad, baby, I just mean that, well, you think I'm this, you think I'm that, and all because of something like, that I play football or that I like this car. And that's not right. You can't know things about me from stuff like that, you have to get to know me...and I want you to, Angel, I want you to get to know me. I want you to know everything about me but from me, yanno? Not from stuff I like or don't like. Okay?"

Angel's face had softened as Michael spoke. He looked out at the rain trailing down the glass in front of them. His voice was thoughtful when he spoke, quiet, as he watched the water writhe it's way downward.

"Is that what I've been doing, Michael? Knowing about you just from things you like?" Angel asked.

Michael took his hand again and held it firmly in his.

"Yeah." He told Angel. "But you don't have to do that anymore, I want you to know me from me, okay? From now on, just...don't judge me by something like that, please?"

Angel turned his eyes to Michael's face and saw the worried look there. He put his free hand over Michael's, encasing it in both of his and pulling it close to his chest.

"Michael?"

Michael thought Angel's voice sounded fragile, uncertain.

"Yes, baby?" Michael answered; feeling Angel's heat against his hand, warming his heart and mind. Angel was so beautiful, so soft and yielding next to him. How could he be that way without seeming feminine, Michael wondered. Because, in truth, despite the makeup smudged around his eyes and the cutesy pajamas, there was nothing girlish about Angel. Nothing at all. The planes of his face were a boy's and the hands holding his weren't soft the way a girl's were, they held him tightly and the grip was male, the fingers taut against his. His slim body was hard with lean, long muscles like a skater under the Hello Kitty P.J.s and his chest, bared slightly beneath the undone button, was smooth and inviting. Angel was a boy, but a boy who made Michael want to wrap him up and put him in his pocket, keep him safe and close forever. What would it be like to hold him close at night and feel him, feel his breathing slowing and his body softening into sleep against mine? If I'm careful and don't screw it up...I may find out, he told himself wryly. Angel was watching him closely.

"Michael?" Angel asked, hesitating. "Are you...are you rich?"

Angel's face was hard to read in this light. Michael's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Rich? You mean like, what, `Donald Trump rich' or like, `can we pay our bills and stuff rich'?"

Angel giggled and his expression gentled.

"I dunno. What do you call rich?" Angel asked him.

"Well, okay, Dad does okay, he's a lawyer and he's a good one. We have money for stuff we need and usually money for stuff we want, too. Like this car. When Mom and him got divorced, she came out of it okay and has a nice condo across town. They're still friends, sort of, I guess. What I mean is, the divorce didn't ruin him and didn't hurt her too much, either. I mean, I guess I'm the only one who minded, I have to switch houses all the time and I'm not too crazy about it. That's one of the reasons I used to spend so much time at Gene's place, it's nice there and I don't have to play musical parents, back and forth all the time." Michael paused, looking at Angel, trying to see how he took the mention of Gene. Angel's face was impassive. Let's detour around that subject, Michael told himself. No sense pushing my luck.

"Well, the main thing is that, yeah, we do okay and no, I don't think we're rich or anything. Why do you ask me that?"

Angel's brow furrowed. "Well, I don't know anything about cars but this car looks expensive and I guess I just don't know much about you, Michael. I didn't know your parents were divorced, for instance."

"Yeah, three years ago." Michael said. "Dad and me live in the house from before, Mom has her own place, like I said. She dates and stuff, it's okay but I'm not crazy about it and none of them are there twice so I guess she hasn't found anyone she likes in particular. Dad hasn't dated since it happened, I don't know why, he's a good looking guy and you'd think he would but he hasn't." Michael hesitated, then spoke again.

"Uh, Angel? I'd like you to meet my dad, I'd like you to come over." He tightened his grip on Angel's hand and watched him carefully.

Angel smiled "How are you gonna introduce me, Mike? As your very good friend?"

Michael shook his head emphatically. "No way, Angel. Not a chance. As my boyfriend, that's how I'll introduce you." He hesitated; then added, "I mean, that's assuming...that you are my boyfriend."

He didn't realize he was holding his breath as he waited for Angel's answer. Angel's expression was wistful.

"I thought you said your parents didn't know you're gay." Angel said, searching Michael's face.

"Yeah, I know, I'll have to mention that first, yeah, you're right. Consider it done as of tomorrow. With Dad anyway, I can tell Dad tomorrow." Michael said, his expression earnest.

"You don't have to do everything at once, Mike." Angel told him, frowning.

"Trust me, it's easier this way. I'll tell Dad tomorrow and then you can meet him and I'll tell him...I'll tell him you're my..." Michael's voice faded as he watched Angel for a reaction. "I want to tell him you're my boyfriend, Angel. Will you...be my boyfriend, baby?"

"I'm seriously thinking about it, Michael." Angel said, his voice almost inaudible.

Michael felt warmth in his chest, something tight that made him feel vulnerable. He put his hand under Angel's chin and lifted it up, looking directly into those black eyes.

"Say yes." Michael said, a catch in his voice. "Please, baby, just say yes."

Angel made a little soft sound in his throat as he stared into Michael's intense green eyes. Angel didn't know what it was that he felt but whatever it was, it was filling him up and making him dizzy, almost faint with something like hunger. Those eyes, those feline green eyes of Michael's, right now they pierced into a place that Angel didn't know he had, made him feel a thing he didn't know he could. Was it love? And how could you tell, what was the dictionary definition, what was the compass direction that let you know where you were, let you know if it was love who's territory you'd entered? There should be a sign over the gate to let you know, some kind of clear-cut indication, he thought. Love or not, Angel knew that this was something he didn't mind feeling and something he wanted to continue feeling. He could work out the latitude and longitude later.

This wasn't a mistake, no matter what Jaye said. Angel wanted Michael and he wanted Michael like that, like boyfriends. He could work out the details later but he wanted one thing clear. He wanted Michael to know that it was possible, that he was willing, even if he needed lessons on how to do it. He gazed deep into Michael's tiger-eyes and spoke one word.

"Yes." Angel said, his voice even and sure. Angel carefully watched for Michael's reaction. He wasn't disappointed.

Michael's face lit up like Christmas morning, he laughed aloud and grabbed Angel around the shoulders and pulled him close, hugging him tight.

"You won't be sorry, baby, I promise. You won't be sorry at all, ever. I'll be the best damn boyfriend you ever heard of!" Michael exclaimed, covering Angel with little kisses on his cheeks, his nose, and his eyelids.

Angel blushed and giggled, suddenly fifteen, suddenly overcome with shyness.

"Michael, cut it out, I mean...what did you think I'd say?" Angel said through giggles, turning his face to avoid the onslaught of kisses. "I mean, I'm out here alone with you at midnight in my pajamas. Did you really think it was because I was going to tell you to piss off? In my pajamas? In the rain?" Angel dissolved into laughter at Michael's astonished expression.

Michael grinned. "Angel, you've told me to piss off before, I'm already sure I can't ever take you for granted, baby. I think I need to take very, very good care of you and watch the direction of the wind."

Angel raised his eyebrows. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked silkily, a smile lurking at the corners of his lips.

Michael shook his head, still grinning. "Just you and your moods, that's all, baby, nothing I can't handle, I promise."

Angel pushed him away and bit his bottom lip, trying not to smile.

"My moods?" Angel asked, eyes wide, his expression promising consequences. Of a sort.

Michael wasn't worried, he heard the smile behind the question. He slid his arms around Angel's torso and pulled himself close until his face was millimeters from Angel's own. That damn gearshift, he thought to himself. He wished he'd brought the beamer. His voice was quiet, his eyes on Angel's.

"Yes, baby, your moods, your beautiful, crazy, delicious drama moods." He kissed Angel once carefully on the lips, gently, taking the sting from his words. "I love you, Angel, have I told you before? I love you and your moods, you and your temper, you and your long, long legs and your beautiful eyes and your amazing lips and your..."

Angel shut him up by pulling his face closer and touching their lips together again, kissing him roughly, his hand tight on the back of Michael's head. Angel felt the other boy's tongue in his mouth, hot and anxious, demanding. He pressed himself close to Michael, their chests touching above the gearshift that separated them. He tried to pull closer and then made a noise of frustration, pushing Michael away.

"Michael, either we get into the back seat or we stop this and go back to my house." Angel complained.

Michael smiled and looked out the window at the rain and the streetlight beyond it.

"I have a better idea, baby." Michael said, turning his eyes to Angel. "Trust me?"

Angel looked surprised. "Like I'd go out my bedroom window in my pajamas with someone I don't trust."

Michael laughed, pulled something out of the back seat and opened the car door, letting in raindrops that fell across the steering wheel, the floorboard and the football player as he exited his car. Angel watched Michael walk around the front of the car in the dark, rain slicking his hair down and his shirt quickly soaking through. He stood outside Angel's door and put his hand on the door handle. Angel's eyes widened.

"Oh, no, you don't, Michael, I'm not getting out in that!" Angel protested; turning quickly in the seat and putting his hand on the door in an attempt to keep it shut.

Michael opened the door despite Angel, leaned in and shook his wet hair like a dog, covering Angel in water drops that only added to the ones falling in the open door directly. Angel squealed and pushed his hands out at Michael.

"No! No! Cut it out! Michael! What the fuck are you doing?" Angel protested, flinching from the rain as it entered the car. Michael reached his right arm under Angel's knees and his left with the blanket in it against the smaller boy's back and lifted him out of the car over Angel's noisy protests. Michael kicked the car door shut with his foot, his hands full, and walked away from the streetlight and onto a lawn, rain obscuring the small house beyond it.

Angel bit his earlobe and Michael almost dropped him. The rain fell hard, soaking their clothes through fast and chilling them. He felt Angel shiver.

"Michael, its wet." Angel complained in Michael's left ear, his breath hot on Michael's flesh. Michael felt himself growing hard, despite the rain and weight in his arms, or perhaps because of it; he realized he liked the feeling of Angel in his arms, the seeming submission of another boy to his strength. And not just any other boy, this was Angel he held in his hands; Angel who he carried through the downpour to the front door.

"Now what?" Angel asked in his ear. "We ring the bell? At midnight? Its too dark, no one's here, this is crazy, Michael."

Michael chuckled. "We don't need to, baby, no one's home." Propping Angel's legs against the doorjamb, he reached down and, by feel, unlocked the door with the agent's key he had borrowed from his mother's desk. Slipping the key in his pocket, Michael felt for the doorknob and turned it. He opened the door and, slipping his right hand back under Angel's knees, carried him into the dark house. He closed the door behind them and stood still, dropping the blanket to the floor and letting Angel get his bearings without putting him down. Angel really didn't weigh all that much, Michael realized. Streetlight came in the wide window and illuminated the interior of the house, revealing bare rooms, unfinished walls, exposed electrical outlets, wood beams in the distant doorway, cans and tools scattered around the room. Angel clung to Michael like a wet kitten and shivered, looking around.

"What is this place, Michael?"

Michael laughed and set Angel down gently onto his feet.

"No place yet, baby, but someday soon, it'll be somebody's house." Michael told him.

Angel looked around the room, taking in the piles of drop cloths and stacks of what looked to him like the stuff that went on walls. Sheetrock, maybe? He didn't know and he wasn't entirely sure why Michael had brought him here.

Bright light flashed sudden outside the window, then dimmed. The storm was easing, the sound and furies further apart each time.

"But Michael, doesn't this belong to somebody?" Angel asked.

Michael shrugged. "Not really, not yet, and anyway, its not like we're going to vandalize the place. We're just gonna get dry."

Angel smiled at him, putting his arms back around Michael's neck. They were both so wet, the closeness was comforting. Outside, thunder slammed hard and rolled, bowling balls in the sky knocking down clouds. It faded as Michael drew Angel close and wrapped his wet arms around, pulling their bodies together. This was much better than in the Lotus, he felt Angel's taut body against his from lips to thighs, heat and cold wetness combining to make him shudder. He felt goosebumps rising all over his body, the hairs on the back of his neck rising. Angel shivered.

"I'm wet, you're wet." Angel complained softly into Michael's ear. Michael felt himself responding to Angel's breath on him, Angel's body against him, Angel's voice low and gentle in his ear.

"I know, baby." He kissed Angel again, his hands against the small of Angel's back, pressing them together. Angel arched up into him, his arms tightening on Michael's neck, his groin touching Michael's and grinding lightly against it. He could feel Angel's arousal, hard against his own; the sudden contact electric and their response immediate.

Angel growled and pulled Michael's head roughly into their kiss, his fingers through Michael's hair and pulling. Michael moaned and slid his hands lower to cup Angel's bottom in his hands. Angel groaned aloud and pulled back to look at Michael, a smile visible in the faint light. Angel pushed his damp hair back behind his ears with trembling fingers.

"Your clothes are wet, Michael." Angel whispered. His eyes ran down Michael's body and narrowed when they reached the bulge in his jeans. Angel groaned aloud and put his hands on Michael's tee shirt, yanking it up from under the denim waistband. Michael stood still as Angel struggled to raise the shirt up and over his head, finally lifting his arms and feeling it slide over his face and off as Angel tossed it aside. Angel stood back, panting, and ran both hands lightly across Michael's chest, rubbing his fingertips into hard nipples as he passed them, making Michael whimper.

Angel was breathing hard as he looked up into Michael's face. Michael could hardly breathe; his wet jeans were so tight they hurt him. Still, he didn't move and let Angel look at him, touch him, however he wished. Michael could smell the dampness of their clothes in the small room; he could feel the heat from Angel's body and see the naked need in Angel's eyes.

"You aren't gonna get away this time, Michael." Angel warned, his voice rough with desire, and put his hands on the top button of Michael's jeans.

Michael chuckled and put his own hands on Angel's, helping him push the metal buttons through the damp denim.

"I wasn't planning on it, baby." Michael said, his voice low and his breathing rapid. "No way was I planning on leaving."

Angel smiled, his eyelids lowering as he looked at Michael from under dark lashes.

"That's good, Mike." Angel murmured as he pushed the soaked jeans and briefs together down Michael, pulling out the waistband front of the white cotton to free Michael's erection without touching it. Michael gasped as the chill air and Angel's eyes hit him at the root. He stood there, heartbeat racing as Angel stopped his hands and the jeans halfway down Michael's thighs and knelt down to Michael's sneakers; feeling for the wet laces without taking his eyes from the hardness in front of his face. He still hadn't touched it and Michael was frantic for contact. If I don't get my clothes off fast, I'll have a heart attack or something, thought Michael. He'd been waiting so long for Angel. He knew he could wait a little longer. But not much.

Michael kneeled down, one hand on the floor for balance, and reached for his laces with one hand and yanked each set fast, then stood up and pulled Angel up to stand in front of him. He put his arm around Angel's shoulder to steady himself and pushed each sneaker off in turn with the other toe, his green eyes on Angel's black ones. He leaned in to kiss Angel's lips and felt the other boy's tongue inside his mouth. Michael stepped back, pushed the pants from his body and stepped out of them, standing naked in front of Angel. Angel growled appreciatively and unbuttoned the front of his pajama top without looking, his eyes traveling up and down Michael's muscled body in the low light. The look in Angel's eyes was making him harder but he resisted touching himself to relieve the ache.

Michael moved closer and pushed Angel's hands away, opening the shirt and slipping it off of the boy's shoulders to drop on the floor. Angel's slim chest was bare, the drawstring waist of the pajama bottoms just under his navel. Angel's chest was inches from his and their eyes locked together. There was almost no difference in their heights, Michael thought, distracted. Angel's chest rose and fell fast, his lips parted slightly as he searched Michael's face, the lust plain in his eyes. Michael put his hand on Angel's cheek, drawing his fingers down to the chin and touching them under it, gently lifting, unable and unwilling to look away from those enormous black eyes so close to his. He heard the rain slacken its pace to a heavy pattering on the panes.

"Angel?" Michael whispered. "Tell me something, baby?"

The affirmative sound Angel made was deep in his throat. He put his hand on Michael's, curling his fingers around the other boy's palm.

"Tell you what, Michael?" Angel's voice was as soft as the rain at the window. His right hand went to Michael's waist, the skin-on-skin contact sending shivers down them both. Michael hesitated, suddenly afraid to ask and feeling his arousal lessen as he searched Angel's eyes for something, some clue, some emotion he needed to see there. Angel smiled uncertainly.

"You want to know...whether..." Angel's quiet voice tapered off as Michael frowned.

"No, its okay, I mean, I...I was just wondering if..." Michael's voice caught in his throat. "You know I love you, Angel, don't you?"

Angel nodded. Michael leaned in to kiss him on the lips, a gentle kiss this time despite everything, in spite of his nakedness and the whirlwind of his desire. Michael pulled back slightly to look into Angel's eyes again and put his hand on the drawstring of Angel's Hello Kitty pajamas. Angel moaned low in his throat. Michael picked up one end of the bow on the pink drawstring. Lost deep in Angel's midnight eyes, Michael momentarily forgot where he was and could think of nothing beyond Angel's warm body in the night and the lingering taste of those lips on his. Angel tasted like summer rain, somehow like wildflowers; that and the softness of his lips were intoxicating to Michael's confused senses. He pulled slowly on the drawstring without taking his eyes from Angel's face.

Angel put his hand on Michael's, stopping him.

"Michael?" Angel asked in a voice just above a whisper.

"Hmm?"

"I think I...maybe...love you, Mike." This time Angel's voice was almost beneath a whisper, light as the slackening rain on the grass outside. Angel swallowed, his chest heaving as he struggled to control his breathing; struggled to control his head, his hard on, his heart. I can't believe I just said that out loud, Angel thought. Or maybe, he thought watching Michael's gentle face battle for composure, maybe I can't believe I didn't say it to him before now. I want him so much that it hurts inside and out, he thought; a sweet heartache that fed into the hunger his body knew for Michael standing naked in front of him.

Michael blinked and felt tears in his eyes. Angel looked exotic in the faint light from the window that kissed across his naked shoulders and along the waves in his glossy dark hair. Angel stood there watching him; his pajamas loose, low on his bare hips and bunching down around his feet, almost covering them. Michael looked down. Was that pink polish on his toes? Michael smiled and swallowed back the tears. God, he loved this crazy beautiful boy. Angel's eyes were on his, no less urgent than before but there was now warmth in those depths that made Michael's heart ache for him.

Michael pulled the drawstring gently, slowly drawing out the top of the pajamas; the material poised along the string itself until, lost in Angel's eyes and string ends taut in his fingers, he released them, letting them fall. Angel's Hello Kitty pajamas, now loosened, slid down over his naked hips and fell to the floor in a soft puddle of pink and white material.

Angel stood nude, licked down his smooth shoulders by light from the window, a delicate bright frosting of white on his olive skin. The hairs along Angel's arms rose in the cool air, his erection growing as Michael's green eyes moved across his body.

Michael reached for Angel, drawing him close into his arms, into his beating heart.

Michael put his lips to Angel's ear and breathed, "I love you, baby." Michael then touched his mouth to Angel's lips and closed his eyes.

Their kiss started gentle but quickly ignited fire as their bodies touched, no longer encumbered by clothes, their skin almost setting off sparks at each point of contact that must surely scorch their flesh. Michael groaned and clasped Angel against him, pulling him tight, trying to pull him right into his own body. Angel's fingers ran down his back, nails biting lightly into the smooth flesh. He felt Angel hard against his belly, almost touching his own aching organ, driving his brain to a white-hot frenzy. Breathing hard, he pulled back and reached down to the floor, Angel's fingers still on his back, trailing heat down his shoulder, and picked up the blanket he'd brought inside. He smiled at Angel as he tossed up the quilted blanket into the air, letting it sail out and float down onto the floor in a neat square of patched colors.

"Come here, baby." Michael said, his voice soft as the blanket itself.

Michael took Angel's hand in his and drew him down to the patchwork surface, kneeling down and pulling Angel after him to lie side by side together on the floor. He kissed the tip of Angel's nose, making him smile, then kissed down his face to his neck, making him moan and wrap his arm around Michael's head to pull him closer. Michael's hand slid down Angel's body, across the smooth skin of his side and hip, reached around to pull Angel's bottom towards him, drawing their bodies closer together. He felt Angel's hardness touch his abdomen, the tip wet, the organ straining upwards, seeking, needy. He touched his fingers to Angel's thighs, drawing his hand upward to cup the soft skin under Angel that tightened closer to his body as he did so. Angel groaned loud and reached for Michael, feeling for him without looking and, finding that steely shaft by touch alone, by the heat it gave off between them, wrapped his fingers around it. They both gasped at that sudden, electric moment of contact, Michael thrusting instinctively into the clasped hand.

Michael's own hand found Angel's smaller organ, hard and hot, and squeezed it, causing Angel to cry out softly and push his pelvis forward. Angel grasped Michael tighter just as Michael's teeth bit into the soft join of Angel's neck and shoulder, causing Angel cry out louder, then whimper. Angel gripped Michael and stroked hard between the base and the head, almost without thinking, pumping in rhythm to the thrusts of his hips into Michael's hand. His mouth still on Angel's neck, Michael felt himself drawing close, the hot feel of Angel in his hand overpowering his intention to go easy, almost overpowering his thoughts altogether.

Michael wanted to slow, to kiss down Angel's body, to draw his tongue over that smooth flesh, to taste between his legs and take Angel into his mouth. Michael started to push away just as Angel's mouth found his, thrusting his tongue into Michael with a moan that traveled into Michael's own mouth and body, making him groan in return.

Mind now gone blank and all thought drawn down to the aching heat inside, Michael began to thrust faster in Angel's hand, his lips still locked to Angel, sucking Angel's tongue deep into his mouth. Everything in his head a white hot blank of urgency, Michael writhed against Angel's grasp, moaning with each thrust, pumping Angel's own heat in a sympathetic, overriding rhythm that outpaced his heart.

Michael released in Angel's hand, shooting hard onto Angel's chest and stomach, his hips still moving, bucking with each white spurt against Angel's dark skin. His heart racing, his thoughts centered into Angel's hand and the pleasure that kept coming, again and again; Michael pulled back from Angel's mouth onto his back and gasped for air, his eyes closed. He lay there for moment, listening to his heart slow the pounding in his chest, struggling to gain control of his lungs. Angel's hand still held him, gently now, and he felt the boy's kisses touch light across his chest.

"Michael?" Angel asked light as night air.

Michael rolled over, pushed himself up on an elbow and looked down at Angel's flushed face, dark eyes bright with desire. He pressed Angel down onto the quilt, onto his back, and licked the nearer nipple, causing Angel to arch upwards. He returned his hand to Angel's hard cock as he pulled the nipple into his mouth and suckled it, making Angel wriggle anxiously under him.

"Michael..." Angel begged. The sound of his name made his dick and his heart both twitch in response and he trailed his tongue down Angel's chest to his flat stomach. Michael raised up his head to look at Angel's face.

"Yes, baby?" Michael whispered, his eyes on Angel's.

"Just...anything, now, now, I want you so bad, Michael."

Michael turned around and slid his mouth over the head of Angel's cock.

"Oh, Jesus, God, Michael..." Angel went past coherence into loud moans as Michael sucked him into that hot mouth, raking his tongue around the head and downward. Angel's hands were on the back of his head, pulling him closer, pulling at his hair. Michael moved over and across to lie between Angel's legs without taking his lips from Angel, the motion of his body providing additional stimulation that had Angel thrusting hard into his mouth. Michael reached back behind Angel's knees and lifted them up and apart on either side of him. He pushed Angel's legs up and onto his chest, Angel still deep in his mouth, until Angel was exposed under him and his head against Angel's belly. He pulled his mouth slowly from Angel's sex, now wet, fluid rising at the tip, then touched his tongue into that hole to taste it again. Angel groaned, breathing hard.

"Michael, please don't stop, Jesus, God, don't stop what you're doing, not now, Michael...Michael." Angel pleaded, his voice shaky.

"Shhhh." Michael said, and drew his tongue down beneath Angel, briefly sucking at each tight roundness in turn, then traced his tongue behind them to lick between Angel's legs.

Angel gasped and cried out, loud in the room, his hands going to the backs of his own knees to pull them closer, instinctively wanting to allow more access for the irresistible sensations. He felt Michael's tongue touch against his tender center and jerked back from the electric contact that almost tickled.

"Michael..."breathed Angel between gasps.

Michael didn't answer, stroking his tongue around the tight opening in time with Angel's whimpers and gasps. Michael touched his tongue right into the center and felt Angel go a little wild under him, calling Michael's name over and over in between rapid breaths. Bracing his hands on the backs of Angel's thighs, Michael thrust his tongue further in, then moved it in a circular motion, pushing against the clenched muscles and feeling the pressure resist him, lightly squeezing his tongue. Michael began to thrust his tongue in and out, as deeply and as hard as he could. He went faster, occasionally pausing to suck on the opening itself, then resuming his rapid hard thrusting.

Angel was still moaning and calling out to him and to various deities, but no longer in English. And it sounded pretty damn sexy in Spanish, thought Michael, glad he'd taken two years of it. He reached his right hand up to grasp Angel in his hand just as he thrust again deep and Angel screamed out in rapid-fire street Spanish that he was climaxing. I think he also just said he loved me, thought Michael, who couldn't decide if he was amused or pleased or both.

Angel came like a rocket as Michael felt Angel bucking and moving in the palm of his hand; his tongue still buried deep in Angel's soft heat. Michael held still, moving only his tongue gently in a swirling motion inside Angel, who kept up the running monologue in a lower voice, now alternating between English and Spanish as he continued to empty. Michael then squeezed thoroughly with his hand from base to tip, bringing on another, lesser round of gutter Spanish.

Finally, Angel was finished and the room went nearly silent, except for the sound Angel's heavy breathing.

Michael waited a moment, then lifted up and onto Angel's body, Angel's legs wrapping around him as he did so. He pressed his chest into Angel and looked into his eyes. Angel was smiling at him lazily; his eyes half-lidded.

"Hi, baby." whispered Michael.

Angel smiled like a cat and licked his lips before he spoke.

"Hi, Mike." Angel's voice was as soft and smooth as silk.

"I liked that, Angel." Michael told him.

"I liked it better." Angel said with a purr.

"I don't think so." Michael said with a smile, stroking Angel's hair out of his eyes.

Angel closed his eyes and purred again.

"Hey, Mike?" Angel whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Fuck me, Mike?" Angel was smiling, his eyes still closed. He could feel Michael's returning erection pressed between them.

Michael chuckled.

"Let's go back to your house, baby. I wanna try out your bed. This floor is hard."

Angel laughed, opening his eyes and looking into Michael's cat green eyes. God, he's beautiful, thought Angel. I think I might be in love, for real. I wonder how you know for sure?

Michael lifted himself off Angel and onto his feet, reaching down a hand to help Angel up from the floor. Angel stood and wrapped his arms around Michael, his cheek against Michael's neck. They stood there still for a moment, their arms around each other, listening to the last of the rain patter down.

"Baby?" Michael said, his lips against Angel's hair.

"Um-hum?"

"Baby, I just want you to know I understand a little Spanish." Michael said, his breath tickling Angel's ear.

Angel pulled back and stared into Michael's face, nonplussed.

Michael grinned, his eyes dancing.

Angel blushed furiously.

Damn, what the hell did I say, thought Angel, still blushing.

Angel had a funny feeling he'd mentioned God a few times. And something about the mother of God and a goat. He hoped neither was true but from the look on Michael's face, he'd said a hell of a lot more than that. Angel thought he might have even mentioned love once or twice.

And looking into Michael's eyes, Angel wasn't sorry he had.

`Two together!

Winds blow south, or winds blow north,

Day come white, or night come black,

Home, or rivers and mountains from home,

Singing all time, minding no time,

While we two keep together.'

Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking

(Walt Whitman, 1859)

[End of Part 15]