kisses like nothing else
Kissing Spike was like smoking pot behind the school on dance night. He may be all soul-having nowadays; but the way his hand slid between Buffy’s thighs, in full view of whoever might be watching, was a dirty kind of high that never got old.
It didn’t hurt that they were in a colored-ball-spinning club that reminded Buffy of the high-school gymnasium. And that Angel was the one watching.
Her Slayer-senses started to zing as Angel approached, and she grinned against Spike’s lips.
“Mind if I cut in?” Angel took her hand, ignoring Spike’s scowl as he spun her away.
*
Kissing Angel was like dancing under the open skies. The dank walls shimmered into a warm moonlit evening, lights spinning into magic dust and stars. The music and the sounds of the crowd faded softly away, until all Buffy could hear was the beating of her heart in her ears.When you kiss me I wanna die, she’d once said. She didn’t want that anymore. When Angel kissed her, she wanted to live. Maybe forever.
His hands slid reverently across the small of her back, and her spine quivered.
“Take me home,” she breathed against Angel’s lips, and he nodded.
*
Watching Angel kiss Spike was brand new, every time.Some nights it was full of teeth; bite marks on their lips and bruises on their skin. Other nights their laughter ran red as blood, wicked grins older than Buffy (than anyone) could remember.
After all this time together, Buffy had thought she'd imagined all their kisses. Yet tonight, they kissed softer than satin, smoother than dark chocolate and red wine.
They broke apart, breathing softly, eyes still closed. Buffy caressed their faces with gentle hands.
“I love you,” she whispered to each in turn, and then kissed them both again.