A/N: So, this is what happens when I'm horny and should study the moral chastity of religious sects: I write Bangel smut, of course! I... didn't mean for the "rock" in the title to have some sort of kinky meaning, but I suppose it can be interpreted however you like. This is actually the first fanfic I've ever written, as well as the first time I've ever written any kind of smut. Yeah, I know - what kind of idiot tries to write smut her first time writing a fic? But I've learnt from the copious amounts of smutty fic that I've read. And I love helplessly horny Angel. I'm sure we all do. So, enjoy!*

*Unless you're underage, in which case you reading this can cause your parents to sue me. I'm a poor student, guys. Have mercy.

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, aka Evil Bitca Genius In Charge, shares these lovelies with Mutant Enemy, The WB, Fox and Kuzui Entertainment. I'm just kidnapping them for a while, and I don't get any profit out of it besides Never Ending Sexual Frustration.

Pairing: B/A, of course.

Spoilers: Set after BtVS season three, but there's no specific timeline.. Buffy is single, though. As is Angel.

-x-

Angel lay in bed, covers thrown aside, staring at the ceiling. He clasped his hands over his stomach, blinked and stared some more. He didn't know how long he'd been occupied with this riveting activity, but he had a feeling it was something close to that century he'd spent in Hell once. The cramped room - if you could call the ridiculously small bed department of a circus trailer a room - was nearly pitch black, save for the few strands of moonlight that seeped in through the curtains. He would have to close those more carefully before dawn, he noted to himself absently, before returning to staring into the darkness above him. Yes, it was the middle of the night. But he had a hunch - a screaming voice in his head, rather - that his sleepless state had less to do with the hour and more to do with the petite figure of a blonde young woman, laying only inches to his right, sleeping soundly.

He sighed, but didn't move, careful not to wake her. How had they ended up here? Why had that insufferable bug demon decided to wreak havoc just outside of Sunnydale, of all places? There were plenty of festivals and circuses in California, Angel thought grumpily and shifted in the Queen sized bed. Why did it have to insist on going near the home of his One True Hands Very, Very Off Love? Was the universe against him?

He snorted. Like it ever wasn't.

Of course, rationally, he knew it was of the good. He needed Buffy's help with this one. What he didn't need was to end up in a narrow bed with her, simply because he had to keep up the undercover appearance of being human, hence sleeping at night. He also didn't need for it to be one of those excruciatingly hot California summer nights, causing Buffy to sleep in nothing but panties and a flimsy tank top. She didn't mean to tease him, of course. In fact, she had changed in the closet-like bathroom and quickly slided under the covers without meeting his eyes, mumbling only a "sleep tight" before pretending to fall asleep. They hadn't spoken much at all during the whole case. She had kept it professional - or as professional as things got between them - in what he suspected was an attempt to get things over with and return to normal as soon as possible. Minimize the heartache of The Buffy and Angel Show. She hadn't told him much about how she was doing. And he hadn't told her about his distinct lack of curse clause.

He didn't see how he could. He knew that The Powers That Be had needed for him to be stable, had come to the conclusion that he couldn't fight evil unless he was, and therefore had given him his soul permanently. He knew that Cordelia would let out a frustrated sigh and start rambling about how his brooding skills did nothing for her work environment if she knew he hadn't said anything to Buffy about it. But he really didn't see how he could. For all he knew, she might be living something like the normal life he'd wanted for her, having picnics and sex with some young - human - hunk of a guy and metaphorically vomiting rainbows with happiness. 'Who am I to ruin that?' he thought to himself for the millionth time as he lay in the dark, silently repeating to himself the reasons why he shouldn't just lunge to his side, grip her hips, turn her over to him and plunge deep into the sweet heat that was home.

He was doing a pretty good job at it, too, until the thick silence was pierced by a soft mewling sound coming from his right.

He froze and halted his unnecessary breath. It couldn't be.

"Mmm..." she moaned, stirring slightly. "Angel..."

Holy shit.

It was.

Tentatively, he turned his head. He could just make her small form out in the darkness, laying with her back to him, only a few inches away. He squinted, raised and leaned on his elbow, and swallowed harshly as another moan came from her, once again with his name attached to it. She was dreaming about him. And judging by the sounds she was making, it wasn't a PG kind of dream. Suddenly, she started to turn over on her back, causing his gaze to drift to her barely-covered breasts. The tank top had... drifted, rather than doing its job very well.

Angel gulped. He knew he should move. He knew he should leap from the bed, run out of the trailer and keep running until he was back in his safe office in LA with his significantly less arousing partners in demon hunting. But he couldn't even think, let alone move, and found himself whimpering helplessly when she rolled half on top of him, pushing him back into the mattress. Still asleep, she nuzzled his neck, her hand snaking up to his bare chest and her breasts pressing into his side, and he wanted to cry. Surely, this was too much to ask of him. No man could be expected to withstand this temptation without combusting into ash, vampire or not.

"Angel", she whimpered as she ground her core, covered only by the already wet fabric of her panties, into his hip. He felt her plump, half-open lips and hot breath against his neck and lay perfectly still, able to think about nothing except the raging hard-on he was already sporting. Finally, as his mind began to come close to functioning, he reluctantly brought his left hand up and tried to remove her hand from his chest, trying desperately to ignore her fingers raking over his nipple.

"Buffy... Buffy, you need to wa-"

He didn't get any further than that. Her thigh had started to wander up his own, and he was cut short as it nudged his rock hard length. He couldn't stifle the groan that came bubbling up his throat, and let it out along with a hard puff of breath.

"Oh God", he moaned, his left hand still wrapped around her wrist on his chest as she ground her weeping core even harder against him. Her leg started to move to the other side of him so that she was straddling him, her face still buried in the crook of his neck. Her pebbled nipples were no longer covered by the tank top and instead they pressed into the wall of his chest. When she rested her core against his straining boxers, he groaned loudly.

At which point she went still.

He lay breathlessly, noticing no movements or moans coming from her anymore, staring into the quiet dark with her on top of him. Eventually, her head started to lift from his neck until he found himself staring into a pair of enormous, confused, hazel green eyes. Buffy opened her mouth and began to stutter out an apology, but before she could get a word out, he had rolled them over, trapping her hands over her head. His lips attacked her mouth, opening it with his insistent tongue and then travelled down her throat and chest to her breasts, engulfing one of her nipples. She closed her eyes and moaned.

"Angel, we... oh God... we can't." she got out, writhing half-heartedly in her still groggy state underneath him. "Curse. Bad."

His hands let go of her wrists and slid down her sides to her hips.

"Mmm. No curse." he murmured against her breast before eagerly taking the other nipple into his mouth.

"What?" Her eyes shot open and she peeked down at him.

He kissed his way down her body until he reached the waistband of her simple black panties, hooking two fingers into them and sliding them off. She stared incredulously at him as he quickly shimmied out of his own boxers and settled his hips between her thighs. She could feel his manhood teasing her warm, wet opening.

"What do you mean no cu-" she started, but was interrupted as he attacked her lips with his own, thrusting his tongue inside and wrapping his arms around her waist. She mewled into his mouth and gave in, arching against his chest and clutching his shoulders with her arms. With one deep thrust, he finally came home, filling her entirely.

"Angel!" she cried and panted into his mouth.

He lay still, let go of her mouth and let his face rest in the crook of her neck, trying to steady his breathing. Eventually, the burning heat and the rippling Slayer muscles of her core became too much and he started moving, at first slowly, but soon he started to pick up the pace. Buffy tilted her hips with a whimper, allowing him to reach even deeper and her lips found his, feeding him open-mouthed, panting kisses. He reached for her left thigh, grabbed it and pulled it up to rest on his hip as he thrust into her, groaning as she responded to each thrust with a squeeze of her internal muscles.

"More" she moaned breathlessly. "More."

He was close, but wanted her to come with him and started thrusting just a little bit faster as his hand let go of her thigh and snaked between them, down to tweak lightly at her clit as she sucked his earlobe into her mouth. With a loud "Oh God!" she tumbled over the edge, rippling furiously around him. He moaned her name out with a last few thrusts before collapsing against her, panting and with his head resting beside hers. As their breathing started to even out, he lifted his weight off of her, rested on his forearms and kissed her softly.

"Wh..." she began, looking into his eyes, but trailed off. "That... I..."

He smiled and reached up to pull a sweaty few strings of hair out of her face as she stared at him. "Yeah." he said softly.

With that, she took a hold of his shoulders and rolled them over so that he lay on his back and she straddled his hips. She kissed him, but soon broke it off, bracing her hands on his damp chest, squinting down at him.

"So that was amazing. Wanna tell me why you're not trying to suck the world into hell now?"

-x-

A/N: There. I did it. Feel free to lynch me if it was horrible. (Please don't. I have things to do, like write you guys more naked Angel and mischievous Buffy.) Anyway, I hope there's potential in there and that you enjoyed it!