Title: Like God's Only Dove
Category: Romance, angst, Dark!Bono, Zoo era, smut
Disclaimer: Not mine!
Feedback: Greatly appreciated.
Summary: A brooding rock star finds beauty in a young girl who possesses something he lost a long time ago--innocence. But will she give him the solace he longs for? And at what price?
Notes: Thanks as usual to Rhiannon for the beta!
* * * * *
* * * * *
They spent the rest of the afternoon exploring Los Angeles. Bono wanted to see what he called 'Angela's Los Angeles', so she took him to the Runcible for a late breakfast. They wandered around downtown for several hours, stopping at the city library to partake in one of Angela's favorite activities. She walked the quiet stacks, examining the cracked and dusty spines until she found one that was particularly ancient looking. Whenever she found such a gem, she'd pull it out, open to a random page, and begin reading. Her favorites seemed to be the poetry books. Bono filed this information away in the growing 'Angela Oddities' file in his brain.
The Farmers Market was open on Fairfax, so they wandered amongst the colorful fruits and vegetables and fragrant flowers. Angela bought apples and strawberries from her favorite stand, where her friend Carlos rewarded her with a cheshire grin and a kiss on the cheek before noticing the man standing next to her.
"Angelica, you have a new novio?" He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her.
"Um...Carlos, this is Bono. Bono, Carlos". The two men shook hands, sizing each other up in that ridiculous sort of way that men do. Bono puffed out his chest and threw an arm around Angela, who was growing more amused by the minute.
"Don't worry Carlos, I'll take good care of her."
"Well, let's hope so. I wouldn't want to have to come after you if you don't. She's special, this one." Carlos's tone was jovial, but Angela could sense the sincerity behind his teasing, and it touched her.
"Now Carlos, you know I can take care of myself!"
"I know, Campanita. Don't I know. Now get out of here, I have produce to sell." Angela gave him a quick hug and he whispered something in low, rapid-fire Spanish in her ear. She giggled and gave him a playful smack on the arm.
"Adios, Angelica. Adios, Angelica's new novio!" He waved them off and turned his attention to another customer. Bono could hear him bartering heatedly over the price of plums as they walked away.
"What's 'Campanita'?" Bono asked, arm still slung around her shoulders.
"Little bell. It's a nickname. From when I used to give his daughter, Isobel, piano lessons. She loved to sing and we would sing and play together for hours, so Carlos started calling us his little bells. I taught her right up until she died of leukemia about a year ago. The medical bills were so high that Carlos and Pilar paid me in strawberries."
Bono was watching her closely, and gave her a tight squeeze and a kiss on the top of her head as she cleared the tightness from her throat.
"So!" she said. "What would you like to see next?"
"You're the tour guide, darlin'." He swiped one of her apples and took a hearty bite.
* * * * *
It was well after midnight when they stumbled up the stairs to her apartment, tipsy on too many whiskey sours and completely intoxicated with each other. Bono was whispering dirty limericks into Angela's ear, who was howling with laughter and clutching the lapel of his jacket for support. They reached her door and he pinned her up against it, moving his hips in slow circles against hers, hands roaming her ribcage and mouth hot against her ear.
"Let me come in."
"My place is a mess."
"Do you think I give a good Goddamn about that?"
Angela knew full well what was going to happen if she invited him in, and it both frightened and excited her. Of course she wanted him. But everything was happening so fast. She hadn't been thinking clearly for days, and suddenly the whole thing seemed very real to her. This was Bono. Her idol, the celebrity, wealthy beyond her wildest imaginings and from a world completely foreign to her. Sure, he was affectionate and attentive and seemed to really care for her. There had been moments today that she'd forgotten he was the lead singer of the biggest rock band in the world. He was just a man, a man who happened to be quite taken with her and who made her feel lovely and funny and interesting. A man who held her as though he wanted to protect her. As though he wanted to love her.
But the truth was that he was a celebrity, he did live a life that she knew little about and would probably never fit into. And as wonderful as the past few days had been, she was afraid that letting him into her bed tonight would be taking it much too far. The last thing she wanted was to fall in love with a man who would ultimately break her heart, good intentions or no.
"Come on, baby..." His hand cupped the nape of her neck now, his thumb tracing her jaw and his lips placing tiny kisses along her hairline.
"Okay," she heard herself whisper, unable to tell him no.
He grabbed her hips and turned her around, brushing her hair aside and kissing the spot on her neck that he'd just been holding as she fumbled in her bag for the keys. Her hands shook as she turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door. She flipped on the small lamp next to the door and tossed her bag and keys onto the counter. He was upon her before she knew what was happening.
"I need you", he growled. His hands were heavy and hot and everywhere. He needed something, that was obvious. He licked his lips, and their soft warmth on her neck was insistent and electric.
She turned to face him. "Me?"
"You, you, you. Only you. Forever and now, only you." Weighty words from a man she'd only known a few short days. His mouth found hers and enveloped it in a lazily seductive kiss like hot sugar melting slow on her tongue. His breath tasted of whiskey and cigarettes; on him, it was sexy. But then, everything on this man was sexy. She'd wanted him for so long, since he'd arrived unwittingly and unexpectedly into her life just four short days ago...and for the four or so years she'd idolized him before that. He kissed deeper and there was a sweetness she couldn't identify. Peppermint? She pulled him closer, kissing back without hesitation now, desperate for the taste.
"There you are," he murmured, a devilish smile touching the corners of his lips. His eyes, however, were deadly serious, and boring into Angela's. There was a question there, waiting to be asked, and something else...was it love? A shudder racked her body even as she told herself not to be ridiculous, and he groaned, the vibration electrifying every inch of her skin that was now pressed hard up against him, begging to be let in. Her body was obviously ready, but her mind still wasn't sure if this was a good idea. Her back, however, was pressed firmly against the wall, leaving her no escape.
There was a current of energy that was ever present, just beneath the skin of this man. It was there when he made love, just as it was there when he sang for a crowd of thousands or made an impassioned speech or went for a stroll on Sunday. It was more than mere adrenaline. It was his essence. It was his life force. And it was addicting.
"You don't need me," she said, horrified that the words escaped her lips.
"Oh, yes, yes I do," he countered playfully, "I have a feeling we'd fit together perfectly." Grateful that he'd let her foolish lapse slide, her decision was finally made. He sensed the change and nodded, holding her face in both hands and planting a gentle kiss at the corner of her mouth. And she knew that if she didn't have him right then, she would cease to breathe.
He was good. Good and dangerous. She no longer cared.
She grabbed him and pulled him back in, finally allowing herself to be the needy one. She opened her mouth to his and he began a heady exploration with his tongue, nibbling and sucking on her lower lip, causing her to whimper. He felt so incredible, hard and hot against her body, that her grip on her own emotions was slipping fast. His lips found their way to her chin, his tongue tracing her jawline to tickle her ear. His stubble scratched at the sensitive skin of her neck and he ground himself into her, nearly sending her over the edge even though they were both still full clothed.
That was a problem. Clothes. Suddenly she wanted nothing more than to be out of them. She pushed at his chest and regretted it momentarily when she saw the confusion in his eyes. She flashed him a wicked grin and shook her head, telling him it was ok. She wasn't calling a damn thing off now. She pulled her blouse over her head and tossed it onto the floor, the static electricity caused by fabric being dragged over hair sending a chill down her spine, turning her skin into one large, fluid plane of charged particles. His eyes widened hungrily as he looked down at her. She wasn't wearing a bra. He traced a finger over her fragile collarbone and down across the tops of her small, round breasts, enjoying the way it made her shudder, gooseflesh rising on the pale, creamy skin. Then he lowered his head to kiss a trail around the bottom of her left breast, trailing his nose along that lovely little crease of skin beneath it. He flicked a tongue at her erect nipple and she stiffened, burying her fingers in his tangled hair and digging her nails into his scalp.
The kitchen counter dug painfully into her back but she hardly noticed. Her entire being was reduced to the few inches of skin that Bono was touching lightly, teasing, breathing wetly on, and finally, blissfully gathering up into his mouth and suckling. He swirled his tongue around her nipple as he covered her other breast with his right hand, and the ecstasy was almost too much for her to take. She wanted him, and she wanted him now.
She shoved him backwards against the front door and clawed hungrily at the fly of his jeans. He happily obliged her, kicking off his shoes and tugging jeans, bikini briefs and socks down over his ankles, one leg at a time. She cursed at the tricky buttons of his shirt and he laughed a low, throaty laugh and helped her with them before relieving her of the rest of her garments. They stood there for a moment, enjoying a brief, lustful visual exploration of each other's exposed flesh. His hooded eyes roamed the curves of her body, regarding her with an awe that made it seem as though he'd never seen a naked woman before, which she knew was the furthest thing from the truth. Her flesh ached to be touched by him, but he held her off, made her want him for a few moments more. Then he gatherered her up, and she was lost to him forever.
She tumbled backwards onto the bed and wrapped one leg tightly around his back as he lowered himself roughly onto her, her hands grasping desperately for something to hold on to, to steady herself in the spinning room. She gripped the pillow below her head and stared up at him with open longing. He curled one arm protectively around her head, hand entangled in her mess of unkempt curls. His other hand was clamped firmly to her thigh. She cried out as he entered her, and she could see the satisfaction in his face. He watched her as he took his first few tentative strokes, enjoying how wild he was driving her, but taking care not to hurt her. And then, there was that look again--what was it, she couldn't help but wonder? What was that question that hung somewhere beyond the lust in his gaze? Maybe it really was love, or at least the pin prick of it.
His eyes fluttered closed then, as if he realized he'd revealed too much. Her thoughts became clouded as his rhythm quickened, her hips rising over and over to meet his and take him deeper. Soon a familiar warmth began to flood her insides as the first wave rolled in. He threw himself ravenously into their coupling, and it was like nothing she had felt before. It was unbridled, passionate, like the largest crowd he'd ever perform for, like the last time she'd ever play a piano. She didn't think she'd ever get enough.
He fucked like an artist, just like everything else he did. Her body went rigid as she came.
"Baby, baby, baby, baby..." Bono mumbled, planting gentle kisses on her face as she floated back down from the hazy fog of orgasm. She couldn't help but wonder what exactly it was he was trying to do to her. This tenderness was a side of him that still caught her off guard. Passion and artistry were not a surprise. But even in her fantasies, she'd never imagined tenderness. Tenderness was dangerous. She could fall in love with tenderness. Her mind raced with these panicked thoughts, and she felt him watching her again. Now it was Angela who had revealed too much.
She grabbed him and drove him hard into her, deep, deeper, please, fill me up...
The violence of her need caught him by surprise, but shock was soon replaced by a driving determination that was beyond either of their control. And here was that frantic, artful fury she'd always imagined, lying awake nights, trying everything she could think of to get this man off her mind. This man who was much too far off in the stratosphere, much too disconnected from the reality she was living in to ever want her. Or need her. And yet here she was, wrapped around him, watching him at his most vulnerable.
A surge of love overtook her and she pulled him close as he came, his body shuddering and quaking in her arms. He buried his face in her neck and his body went limp and heavy on hers. She ran her fingers through his dampened hair and bit back words of love. When his strength returned to him he rose to greet her, fixing her with a gaze so loaded she wanted to look away, but willed herself to hold it. Hold him as long as she could, for he'd surely leave her soon.
He wanted to say something, she could tell. He was still nestled inside her, soft and sweet and warm, and the thought of his retreat sent a silent sob rattling about her chest, crushed beneath his spent and sweaty weight. A single tear slid down her temple and into her tangled hair. He wiped it away with gentle fingers, his gaze now shyly fixed on her ear.
'And there you have it,' she though scathingly to herself. 'Now he's had you. The mystery is gone. Hope you enjoyed it while it lasted.' And she had. Oh, how she'd enjoyed it. How she'd savor it for years of nights to come, long after he'd forgotten her name and four days in Los Angeles and the best lay of her life.
The silence in the room became deafening as their bodies calmed. She prayed that he'd just get it over quickly. Rip the band-aid from her raw, pounding heart before it broke. But Bono had another agenda in mind.
"I need you," he whispered. What? She tried to brush it off.
"You've just had me," she was trying hard to be flippant, but the slight tremble in her voice gave her away.
"No," he said emphatically, and now he was staring again, right in the eyes and straight down into her, his face mere centimeters away. He was serious. Oh, God...he was serious.
He brushed stubbornly at the tear again, long dried and gone. "I need you," he said matter-of-factly, as though it were the end of the discussion, as if she were his now, as if she had no say in it. And she didn't. She could not tell this man no if she wanted to, for this was not a man you say no to. And so Angela became Bono's and Bono's alone. Even if only for the night.
* * * * *
WOW I'm so glad i found your journal! I've been reloading the u2-fanfiction like mad just about every week seeing if you updated this story, this is so much easier. But just want to say I LOVE THIS STORY, and this chapter is SO H-O-T! please keep writing, and I wouldn't mind if angela and bono started going at it like rabbits cause you write it so well! but yeah he can't miss his flight tomorrow, anyways i'm friending you...thanks
u2-fanfiction is fine if you check it everyday and you can keep track of the ones most recently updated but not sure anyone's at that point yet...so it's hard to keep up, i think your private journal is a great idea, less of course you decide to go down the censored and uncensored version and post it on interference, the only site that's getting any traffic, though terrible...oh well...just here bug you for an update really...
I wish I could post this story at Interference but it's a little...well, you know. Against their rules. :P An update is coming, although not right away...spring classes started so I haven't had much time to write fic, unfortunately. But it will come eventually! :)