The Mafia's Bride and Groom's (fxmxmxm)

Date Night of the cruel and famous Pt.4

"Are your hands washed," Will asked as Lucifer tried to start cutting the vegetables.

"Yes."

"I don't believe you, wash them again." Angel cackled as Lucifer gave their soldier a dark glare but Will could be fucking brutal when it came to food, so the devil obliged by washing his hands in the sink and finished it off by flicking water at Will when he was done.

William hissed and continued measuring ingredients for tonight's lemon butter fish.

They had started dinner as soon as the debacle of unloading all the groceries was finally over. Since then not a single member of Helgrim Mafia had dared to show their face after Peirce and Lucifer's chat, so the house remained empty and open as dinner started. 

"I'll be back," Angel hopped off the counter as the boys continued to cook. Nya was off somewhere in the house, so as the gents began to battle for dominance over the stove, Angel was on a mission. A hungry kinky one. 

He left the kitchen. Bandaged hands dragged along the white walls as he slowly paced the house, going from room to room, not really trying to get anywhere as he listened for Nya. He managed to find his way onto the second floor, which had several guest bedrooms, second office areas, and a meeting room, and just as he was about to head back downstairs, a set of arms wrapped around his chest from behind. 

"We're you looking for me," Nya laughed as she pulled Angel against her. His heart beat faster and faster under her touch and his cheeks almost went red with a blush. Almost, not quite though. Angel Viceman did not blush. 

Angel turned in her arms, sliding one of his delicate hands under her chin, the other, dangerously low on her hip. "I absolutely was not looking for you," he lied, smiling down at his best friend. 

"Liar."

"Sneek," he retaliated, and before she could reply, and because her mask had been stripped away, Angel leaned down and kissed her lazily. 

Her hands tightened around his chest, fingers pulling at the thin fabric of his sheer shirt, at the metle bars going through his nipples, as she leaned into him. His hands still hurt, his knuckles screamed, but he continued cupping her face with one and her backside with the other. A kiss that was meant to be quick and calming turned into something wild and free. 

Nya was like sugar. Like caffeine, like adrenaline and heroin and serotonin, all mixed into one. She was a drug against him, sucking and biting on his lips as she pressed herself into him feverishly. She pulled at his silver hair, he bit her pouty bottom lip. Both of them were equal amounts of chaos and passion and Angel was drowning in it.  Drowning in joy if one was caple of such a thing. 

He wanted to grip her waist and hoist her up onto his hips, but as soon as he tried to get a hand on her backside his knuckle twitched the wrong way and stabbing pain radiated up his arm. He flinched, only a little before he hid it away, but Nya noticed none the less. She slowed her kisses and softly pulled away, her hands trailing from his back, up to his shoulders and down his arms, before she cupped Angel's hands in her own. She held them like two doves encapsulated between their bodies, like Angel's hands were precious and beautiful things. 

Angel stayed quiet, watching her as she watched his hands relax slowly, still stiff from the pain. His hands twitched ever so slightly with a dull throb, like a whisper under his skin. "I'm sorry," she whispered between them, knowing that they never really tell each other sorry, but she had to say it anyways. "I should have been there. If I were there you wouldn't have gotten so hurt." 

She hadn't stopped thinking about Angel's fight with Rain Westwood. It sent her soul ablaze whenever she saw Angel's hands. Whenever she pictured how scared and vial and vicious he must have been in those moments of peril.