Angel couldn't do anything but moan, his teeth dragging over Dorian's shoulder, leaving red lines where he breaks the skin. He doesn't have to bite to achieve his goal. There wasn't room for words as Angel's breath became ragged, his hips working with a mindless rhythm, working the both of them. It was all flesh and silk and friction and blood.

With a strangled groan, Angel pushes Dorian up, letting go of their erections. His eyes were a bright yellow, darkened by his obvious control over himself. It had been a very long time since Angel was a bottom, but he was alright with it.

"My pants pocket." Dorian would find lube. "And lose the shorts on the way back," Angel growled, not bothering to put his fangs away.