Are you sure the solution is pie?

AN: For the birthday of Miss aimeelicious Fantastico. It’s the A/X I started waaayyy back in the day for you, now twice as long and a little bittersweet at the end. Hope you like it. 2,479 words.

See appropriate disclaimers as well as distribution information here.


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As For Forgiveness
By
EntreNous
*******

"You're not happy I'm back," Angel said.

"Well, I'm glad to see your capacity for understatement has improved since you took a trip to the hell dimension," Xander shot back.

Angel regarded him seriously. "You did the right thing."

Xander visibly balked. "You know, I think Giles better check your insane-o-meter, because you're just talking crazy. You're referring to what now?" Without waiting for an answer, he stood and paced the length of the room in the mansion. "I'm not even sure why I'm here tonight...to try talk some sense into you, get you to stay away from Buffy, I guess, leave her alone so that she can get on with her life...but not like you'd really listen to me..."

"Buffy is getting on with her life," Angel replied. He approached Xander slowly. "She's seeing someone."

"You know about that?" Xander asked guardedly. He stopped his pacing and studied Angel's face.

"I know about a few things," Angel said, and Xander turned away. "Don't," Angel said, catching him on the arm.

"What," Xander said in a flat voice.

"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. But I still know what you told Buffy, and you were right. I know you're not going to tell her what a risk you took when you did that, what you decided to tell her, and that's...understandable."

"Wow, you sure know lots of things," Xander said bitterly.

Angel paused. "I know what you're not telling Cordelia. And what you're not telling yourself."

"I have no idea what you're -- shut up," Xander said, his face going pale.

"You didn't come here to talk about Buffy," Angel said simply. "You want her to get on with her life? She is. You want me to condone that? She doesn't need my approval, but she has it. No, Xander...I'm pretty sure that you want something else from me."

"I don't want you...anything from you," Xander said. He backed away unconsciously, wincing when he hit the wall.

"You don't?" Angel asked. He approached Xander, an unreadable expression masking his face.

"I...yeah, I don't," Xander finished, half-adamant, half panicked.

"See, now, I think you do." Angel stepped closer still.

"What, is this some special kind of souled-vampire power, that you can tell when I'm lying? Which I'm not...and like you'd possibly know. Great parlor-trick, Angel. Now do the one where you pull a quarter out of my ear."

"You're here because, first, you sent me to hell --"

"I didn't -- Angelus was the one -- and Buffy --"

"No, Xander. You knew that it could be me. And with all your bluster and jokes and anger, you know what I think? I think you feel guilty. You want a way to make it up to me."

Xander scoffed inarticulately, but something flittered across his face.

"You want absolution, Xander. Redemption. And that's something I know a little about."

"So that's what I want?" Xander said, his voice wavering.

"That's what you need. What you want is..."

"What? Xander asked. His eyes had been fixed on some point beyond Angel, but now he turned his gaze to Angel’s face, watchful, wary.

"This," Angel answered, bringing his hand up to cup Xander's cheek, and leaning in to kiss him.

For a moment everything around was quiet except for the slip-slide sound of mouth against mouth, lips parting. Then there was a soft moan, and when Angel pulled back Xander gasped, because the sound had come from him.

"Come on," Angel said, stepping back and holding out a hand.

"What...come...where? What?" Xander asked. He shifted from one foot to the other, a hand going to his lips and fluttering there.

"Come with me," Angel said. He grasped Xander's hand and led him into the bedroom.

"I'm not...I don't..." Xander stammered. He followed Angel but hovered at the doorway, eyes darting around the room, resting anywhere but on the bed or Angel.

"Xander." Angel said the word firmly. Xander looked at him and his eyes were dark. "It's time you got on with your life, too."

The words released Xander and he moved against Angel with such speed that they fell to the bed together. Frantic, panting, Xander slid his mouth along Angel's neck, groaning as Angel gripped his hips and thrust up against him.

"You can't want me like this," Xander got out as he backed away, but he straddled Angel, pulling his shirt over his head and fumbling with Angel's buttons immediately after.

"I can. I do." Angel eased his hands around Xander's waistband, massaging his hips and abdomen until his hands met in the middle at the button fly and began to undo Xander's jeans.

"Jesus," Xander breathed. He drew his flattened hands that he'd placed along Angel's chest back to him as he stared, fascinated, at the fingers nimbly opening his pants. "Oh Jesus fuck," he sighed, when Angel reached in and drew him out, pulling on him with a smooth motion.

"Okay now," Angel murmured, letting go briefly then one arm holding Xander at the small of his back as he turned them both over, ending up back on his heels while he pulled Xander's jeans off. He cocked his head to the side, taking in the flush turning Xander's body rosy, the bead or two of sweat on Xander's forehead, the wetness glazing those wide dark eyes. Then his eyes dropped lower, and as he stared at Xander's cock he ran his palms up Xander's thighs, smiling slightly at the sweet fretful sounds Xander made.

"Aren't you going to," Xander managed, gesturing at Angel's trousers. Angel stood briefly, unbuckling and unzipping, shedding the rest of his clothing with a grace and ease that made Xander's breath hitch.

Angel was back on the bed and draped over Xander moments later. He thrust his fingers into the tangled dark hair that tumbled around Xander’s brow and temples and pressed his mouth against Xander's lips, encouraging them to part. When Xander complied, wriggling around under Angel as he tentatively slid his tongue inside Angel’s mouth, Angel began rocking against him, their cocks rubbing together with a jolt that made them both pant.

"What if," Xander breathed out.

"Wouldn't do this if it wasn't safe," Angel said through gritted teeth. His eyelids fell and raised again as he twisted his hips in a tight circle.

"So you're...all connected with the soul thing? Not going to get all psycho-guy on me?"

"Xander," Angel whispered against his lips. "Don't want to -- I'm not going to -- hurt you."

"Okay," Xander said.

They stopped for a moment, and Angel said "You trust me." It wasn't a question.

"Don't make me think too hard about that, all right?" Xander sighed.

In answer, Angel lifted Xander's legs over his shoulders, realigning his cock against Xander and pushing along the cleft. Xander let out a surprised yowl as he felt hardness slide along the clasp, brushing against the opening, pointing at and trailing over his balls.

"Oh god," Xander hissed frantically. "For someone who hasn't had much sex in a bunch of years, you sure know what you're--"

"Shut up, Harris," Angel muttered as he kissed along Xander's neck, licking at stubble and jawbone. He shifted to seek out Xander's pulse point, and once again he stated "You. Trust me."

"Fuck," Xander swore. His fingers scrabbled at Angel's back, and he decided to throw all the basic facts of Sunnydale survival out the window and arch his neck up into Angel's mouth. "Fuck it, I do, okay?"

"That's it," Angel said approvingly, both, it seemed, to Xander's admission and to the way Xander clutched at his head to jerk his mouth closer.

Xander choked back a whimper as he pushed his backside up, vainly trying to direct the back-and-forth path that Angel's cock was tracing on him. Words tumbled past his lips without going through the requisite screening process in his head. "Want this...but you don't...you love her..."

"I do want this," Angel replied, still somehow preternaturally calm in his word choice even as a low growl was building from his chest and he bucked against Xander.

"But the other...about Buf--"

"Does it matter?" Angel asked. He shuddered against Xander, dipping his head to run blunt teeth along his collarbone.

"I don't know," Xander answered desperately. "Yes. Maybe. Just...keep going."

"You trust me either way?"

"Does that matter?"

"It matters."

"Then I do," Xander said, his voice low and soft.

"Then we keep going," Angel answered.

At the edge of Xander's vision he saw Angel's hand flash and blur, and when he heard the click and then the snort of something fluid he knew why. He shivered, trying to relax as he felt one and then two lubed fingers in him, not knowing how to account for the soothing sounds Angel made as he continued.

Xander twisted and resettled a bit, breathing heavily as his face took on a determined cast. Then suddenly as Angel’s fingers moved out and started to slide, slowly, slowly back into him, Xander lifted his hips and thrust up against them. “Oh,” he said suddenly, and Angel regarded him silently, running his free hand through Xander’s hair.

“Feels kind of . . .” Xander trailed off once more and turned wide eyes up to look at Angel.

Angel merely nodded and pulled his fingers out again. This time Xander voiced something inarticulate but clearly tinged with disappointment. It was enough to make the edges of Angel’s mouth twist up a little into something close to a smile.

“Now,” Angel said simply, readjusting Xander’s legs on his shoulders before using one hand to grip Xander’s hipbone, the other to line himself up at Xander’s entrance. He moved his hips forward slightly, rocked against him a bit, and gave a gentle push. “Xander?”

“Yeah,” Xander managed. He tried meeting Angel’s eyes, but his own were hazy and unfocused.

“I forgive you.”

Xander nodded, a slow, slightly incredulous up and down motion, but he acknowledged the words. And Angel began to move forward more insistently. When the head popped inside him Xander cried out and turned his head on the pillow. Angel made a comforting noise, shhh-shh-ing him, and Xander tentatively raised his hands to clutch at Angel’s broad shoulders. His fingers dug into the skin as Angel steadily moved further in.

There was a low kind of a growl rising through Angel’s body when he stopped, fully seated inside, and Xander moved one palm to rest against his chest, rubbing at the collarbone and below to feel the vibrations.

“Are you going to move?” Xander asked in a whisper.

“We move when you’re ready,” Angel replied.

A choking sound came out of Xander’s throat and he scooted his back down infinitesimally on the mattress, canting his hips up further. Angel moved his hands to grasp at Xander’s thighs and then closed his eyes, dropping his head back a little.

“What is it?” Xander asked warily.

“You,” Angel answered. “You feel…oh...fuck, Xander.”

Xander watched him, then experimentally pushed his hips up. When Angel drew in a sharp breath, Xander shivered and pulled him down. Their lips met for a moment in a slow kiss, then simply rested against each other.

“Angel?” Xander said against Angel’s mouth.

“Yeah.”

“I forgive you too.”

At that Angel moved swiftly, holding Xander so close that it momentarily seemed as though everything else moved around them while they stayed still. They were shifted back now, Angel sitting on the mattress, Xander on him, Angel in him.

Xander grunted as his hands scrambled for support at Angel’s shoulders. “Okay, this is…ready…”

But he stopped when Angel guided him down up down and thrust into him at the same time, his words turning into whimpers as something inside of him, Angel inside of him, swelled and pulsed.

“Oh god,” Xander panted, his forehead dropping to Angel’s shoulder. Then a hand pulled his head up, and Angel’s lips met his own harshly, a frantic counterpoint to the slow and steady in and out of Angel’s cock moving within him.

“Okay?” Angel half-snarled, and this time Xander moved to mouth and gnaw at Angel’s neck.

“Okay,” he said faintly. Angel repositioned them again effortlessly and they began meeting thrust for thrust.

“Oh, please, please,” Xander cried out. He shuddered and clutched at Angel’s back, and his voice rose to a higher pitch as Angel’s face trembled and rippled.

“Please what?” Angel hissed. He shifted his weight forward, bringing Xander’s back down into contact with the mattress.

“Show me,” Xander whispered.

Angel’s whole face relaxed for a moment, then shifted, prominent ridges and fangs clearly displayed.

“Angel,” Xander cried hoarsely, and Angel surged forward, his hand reaching for and closing around Xander’s cock.

The sounds coming from Xander’s mouth muffled against Angel’s lips as they kissed again, Angel murmuring at the feel of the heat and hardness in his palm.

“When I was,” Angel said suddenly, and Xander’s eyes flew open even as he moaned from the slowing of Angel’s strokes. “It was cold . . . when I was there . . . before I came back . . .”

“I’m sorry--” Xander mouthed but no sound came out. When Angel cast his eyes on Xander’s distraught face he shook his head, thrust back into the previous rhythm, moved his neck closer to Xander’s mouth.

“No, I know -- you’re not -- it’s just . . . fuck, Xander, you’re so warm.”

And Xander wrapped his arms as tightly around Angel as they would go, pushed his hips just a little higher, and latched his mouth onto Angel’s throat.

“Yes,” Angel hissed, bucked forward faster. “So hot, so warm, just yeah, like that, fuck!”

A sharp cry echoed through the room as Xander’s teeth broke Angel’s skin. When Angel snapped his hips and then froze mid-motion, Xander too went still, and came all over Angel’s hand.

* * *

Hours later, and the sun rose steadily over the horizon, sending heated beams into the room from the open doorway Xander leaned against.

“That was it,” Xander said. There was no question in his voice.

Angel stood, silent. “If that’s what you want.”

“It couldn’t . . . I can’t, and you . . .” Xander trailed off.

After a moment Angel held a palm up, a gesture of weighing.

“But as for forgiveness . . .”

“All is forgiven,” Xander said in a quiet voice. “Got it.” He stepped through the entrance into the light and turned back briefly. “Kind of forgive and . . . forget, right?”

“Won’t forget,” Angel said simply.

Xander regarded him seriously, then his face broke out into a smile. “Me neither.” He nodded at Angel and left.

Angel stood facing the door, retreating only when the sunlight wound its way up to his foot.

**~**~**The End**~**~**