Suki Blue Fiction

Raindrops


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“Rain drops keep falling on my head, la la la. ~Hic~. But that doesn’t mean my eyes will soon be turnin’ *red*. la la la la la...”

 

Angel did sexy wiggle from on top of his desk and tried in vein to pull his sweater over his head.

 

“You need a hand with that?”

 

“No, no.  I got it.”

 

Angel fought like a tiger, battling to release the sweater from around his ears.  When it was finally free, he rubbed it between his legs and shimmied.

 

Raindrops keep falling on my head.  And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his *bed*, Nothing seems to fit. La la la la la la la la…~Hic~…la la la la la laaaa.”

 

Doyle tried to snigger quietly.  Angel’s idea of a sexy strip was a little of the mark, but it had taken twelve strangely named cocktails and four pints of beer just to get his lover to agree to it.  Therefore, the standard of the said strip was likely to be, lets say, a little drunken.

 

Angel tossed the sweater at Doyle and gave him a cheeky wink.

 

“Like that, don’t you, my hunk of an Irish man.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Doyle said from behind his hand.  His efforts to not laugh were faltering by the second and watching Angel up on his desk gyrating, twisting his own nipples and deliberately licking his lips was just getting a little too much.

 

“Ow!”

 

Angel flinched and swayed a little on his desk, “twisted a little too hard there.  Now where was I? Oh yeah…*ahem* Raindrops keep falling my la, la la la la, ~hic~ la la la la la laaa…”

 

Doyle tuned out the annoying song and watched with amusement as Angel tackled his trousers.

 

“…~hic~…drops keep falling my…damn buckle…can’t get…ahh, that’s it…oh.”

 

Angel frowned, puzzled as to why his pants wouldn’t go past his shoes.

 

“~hic~…why won’t…? why? Doyle? I think I might need a little assistance here…OOOOHHH!”

 

Doyle shook his head sadly.   He sighed and went to retrieve his upside down lover from the other side of the desk.

 

“I think it’s time for all good *and* bad vampires to be in bed.”

 

“~Hic~  don’t wanna. I’ve got a much ~hic~ better idea.”

 

Doyle closed his eyes and prayed.

 

“~Hic~ Drinking Monopoly!!”

 

“Oh, sweet Jesus.”