Epiphany: Recovery
Apr. 12th, 2002 12:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thebratqueenOkay gang, here's the new Epiphany story:
Recovery
By: The Brat Queen
Disclaimer: Not mine. All Joss Whedon's, Mutant Enemy's, 20th Century Fox's and all that sort of thing. 'tis but a non-profit, amateur effort, and y'all would need to get in line to sue me anyway.
Spoilers: Up to Epiphany, after which Joss and I go separate ways.
Rated: NC-17
Summary: Wesley and Angel readjust to Wes's return. (Part of the Epiphany series, takes place immediately after "Present, Imperfect")
***
Angel woke up at a none-too-subtle shove to his ribcage. His head stayed foggy for half a second, then he swung his legs over the side of the bed and immediately headed to the kitchen. Behind him he heard the bathroom door swing shut as Wesley closed it behind him. The sounds of retching soon followed.
Angel shook his head sympathetically. Interdimensional travel was a bitch.
There were ways of doing it. In fact Wes had looked them up himself as a way to stay busy when to a man everyone agreed he shouldn't even think about coming back to work for at least a week. Angel had brought Wes any book he'd asked for, and Wes spent his waking hours flipping through and showing him everything he found about the subject, his hand shaking sometimes when he remembered reading the exact same part in the exact same book but in the entirely wrong location.
"It's rather like jet lag," Wes had said, during one late-night session with a booklamp. "Or jet lag combined with a severe change in altitude. If both dimensions proceed along the same time line then all is more or less well. But if one dimension moves at a comparatively faster pace than another, the body goes through a bit of trauma readjusting itself."
Angel, who'd spent more centuries in Hell than he cared to count while the woman he loved enjoyed a summer vacation, knew exactly what Wes was talking about. Of course he had no idea which one of them had it worse - Angel might have had centuries, but Wes had a mortal body, and a heart and lungs that actually needed to work at the same speed as the world around him.
Small fucking wonder everybody'd thought he'd had one Hell of a concussion.
Angel opened up the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. He then retrieved an ice pad from the freezer and slung it over his wrist to free up his hand. He grabbed a spare blanket from Wes's favorite armchair and then gave a light knock on the bathroom door.
"Wes? Coming in."
He didn't wait for an answer. After three nights of this they'd settled into a routine and they both knew the knock was just a courtesy. Angel opened the door and let his eyes adjust to the dim light.
Wes was leaning against the bathtub. One hand rested against the toilet, the other covered his eyes. "Bloody *Hell*," he muttered.
Angel didn't need to look to know that Wes hadn't managed to bring up anything. "Dry heaves pretty much suck," he agreed.
"It's an absolutely perverse desire to *want* to vomit," Wes replied. "It goes against man and God. And vampire. Is that water?"
"You got it," Angel unscrewed the bottle and handed it over. "Drink it slow."
"Not as though I have much choice," Wes said. He brought the bottle up to his mouth and swallowed gingerly. Angel felt another twinge of sympathy. On his darker nights he still dreamt of what it was like when even blood had churned in his gut. "God. I shall never, ever, *ever* do that again. I've decided. In fact, it's a life goal."
"Good thing," Angel said. He sat down on the floor beside Wes, pooling the blanket in his lap and taking the ice pack in his hands again. "'Cause I got a real problem with you leaving me."
Wes's eyes were gray with sadness. "I don't want to."
Angel felt himself smile. "I know. C'mere."
Wesley shifted over, resting his head in Angel's lap. His hand curled around Angel's knee tightly, a reflection of the near death-grip Wes had kept on him nearly every night since he'd come back. His body shook as more spasms overcame him. "*Hell*."
Angel worked the ice pack back and forth between his hands. "I know. It'll pass. I promise."
"It's not fair," Wes said, and Angel nodded, agreeing with him. "God I want to touch you. You have no idea - "
Angel gave Wes a half-smirk. "Believe me, Wes, I've got *lots* of ideas. Kinda the problem, really."
Wes frowned at him quizzically.
Angel slid his right hand into Wes's hair, massaging his scalp. "Be a little easier if I could stop dreaming about you."
Wes gasped, then sighed as he leaned into Angel's freezing-cold touch. "Love…"
Angel swallowed. He wished he could draw a picture of Wes like this. Not sick, but - damn if the sight of Wes bending to his hand didn't make his cock ache. "Right here," he replied.
Wes turned around to look up at him. Angel changed hands to recool the first one. "That was the worst of it, you know. It wasn't just losing you. It was loosing *this*," Wes reached up to caress his cheek. "I couldn't bear it."
Angel leaned into the touch. "I know the feeling."
Wes started to place soft kisses along his stomach, his mouth finding all the places that the blanket didn't cover. "I don't want that again. I *never* want that again."
"Wes, um - " Angel moved to break the contact. "I, I mean you know I *want* but - "
"Why won't you let me?" Wes asked, his hand dipping down to trace the bulge of Angel's cock through the blanket. "I know that I can't just yet, but that's no reason why you shouldn't find pleasure."
Angel dropped the ice pack into the space between them, closing his eyes for a moment as he felt it start to take effect. "Because you can barely keep down *water*, Wes, and I'm not big on hurting you. Trust me - I've had longer times without an orgasm. It's okay."
Wes looked dissatisfied. "We made love when I was shot in the *gut*."
"Yeah, 'cause you had painkillers, about two weeks to heal, and a boyfriend whose torture kink meant he knew how to keep your guts from falling out," Angel replied. "You get me a magic cure-all for dimension sickness and maybe we'll talk. And that's *not* an invitation. Do I have to tell you again I'm big on you healing? Because I'll shout it from the rooftops if I have to."
Wes let his eyes roam up and down Angel's body. "While naked?"
"While doing *jumping jacks* if that's what it takes."
"Naked?"
"Wearing *plaid*."
"*Now* I'm ill."
Angel laughed, switching his hands again. He moved his touch lower to massage the muscles at the back of Wes's neck. "So don't bitch about my wardrobe."
"I've never bitched about your wardrobe," Wes replied. "I've bitched about your brooding and your nearly fetishistic obsession about housekeeping, but never *once* have I complained about your wardrobe being in any way sub-standard. It's what attracted me to you in the first place."
Angel rolled his eyes. "I do *not* have a - what did you call it?"
"Sense of humor?"
"The *other* thing."
"Fetishistic obsession about housekeeping."
"That."
"Oh no," Wesley said. He forced down another sip of water. "Your refusal to allow a pair of socks to remain on the floor is in no way an indication of some kind of compulsion. And I'm sure it's every man who buys three different types of cleaners for his kitchen."
"Fine," Angel said, "*You* get the vampire senses and then tell me how much you like a dirty home."
"A wonderful argument," Wesley said, "If not for the fact that you don't eat, so what precisely were you cleaning before I moved in?"
"I cooked for you before you moved in," Angel said.
"True," Wes agreed. "But before *that*?"
"Since when was my outfit the first thing you liked?" Angel asked.
Wes smirked at the change of subject. "Since the Bronze."
Angel moved his hand down Wes's chest, knowing that a cool touch against his stomach often helped. "The Bronze? Wait - the *Bronze*?"
"Yes," Wes's voice was soft, but his eyes were right on him, not hiding from the admission.
Angel felt the weight of what he'd just been told. "Um - wow."
"I thought you quite handsome," Wesley said. He was whispering, and trembling a little, but he still didn't look away. "I - I didn't fully understand the implications of that until much later, but - I noticed."
"Wow," Angel repeated. He blinked and tried to think of something smarter to say. "I mean - geez."
Wes smiled at him. He pressed a kiss against Angel's leg. "As you say."
"I - I noticed the leather," Angel said. He knew it didn't match Wes's words - or at least the depth to them - but he offered them up all the same. "Didn't fall in love with you then but - it was a real nice view. Gave me stroke material for weeks."
Now Wes looked hesitant. "Really?"
"Actually no," Angel admitted. He moved his hand down and let himself enjoy the dirty thrill of feeling Wes's pulse. "More like years. I *still* jerk off to it."
Wes's heart sped up. "How much longer must we wait?"
"Four more days, at least," Angel said.
Wesley sighed. "In four days the office is officially closed. I will buy Cordelia a new car if she gets a vision and keeps it to herself for twenty-four hours. I don't want to be apart from you."
"In four days," Angel said, "I will lock every door to this building and suck you off so long and hard your body will ache for weeks. Then I'm gonna throw you on the bed, hold you down, and fuck you until you scream. But to do that, you gotta heal. Because throwing up during sex has *never* turned me on. Got it?"
Wes threaded his fingers through Angel's. "Promise?"
Angel lifted Wes's hand to kiss it. "Promise."
***
Angel swirled soapy water around in the pot he was holding. Bits of oatmeal still stuck to the edges, but he wanted to clean it so he could make Wes another batch. It'd been a couple of days and he was finally keeping down solids. Mostly oatmeal and toast eaten with tea, but Angel was glad for anything that helped make Wes stronger.
Wes appeared at his side, holding out a hand as though to help. Angel lightly batted it away. "Go sit down."
"I'm not an *invalid*," Wesley protested. Angel just raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh shut up."
Angel smiled, going back to his cleaning.
"I was thinking of going to work tomorrow," Wesley said. He gestured to forestall any protests. "I don't mean fighting demons. But I can take phone calls, catch up on the paperwork - make myself useful."
"Good luck finding stuff," Angel said. "Cordy's been using her old 'Put this under B for Bad Dress Sense' system. I've just been asking her to get stuff for me when we need it. Saves time. And headaches."
"I see," Wes replied.
Angel waited. He didn't have to turn his head to know that Wes was looking down at the floor. He hoped the tension would go away on its own, but wasn't really surprised when it didn't. "I'm not in love with her."
"I know," Wes said. "Really, I do. It's just… seeing your face - "
Angel twisted the water off and grabbed Wes, pulling him over to trap him between his body and the sink. "My face? Here's my face, Wes. It's looking right at you and it's loving you like Hell. You. Not Cordy, not Gunn, not anybody else."
It was a small lie, but they both knew to take Buffy as a given.
"It's not about you," Wesley said. He put his arms around Angel's shoulders. "Or, rather, it is, but not in that fashion. I know that you love me. I'm just - I'm trying to come to terms with it all. It *felt* like you. He *was* you. Strange as it may seem I - I feel a little torn."
Angel took a minute to let the words run through his head. He found the answer - or what he thought was the answer - and decided to let humor handle it. "Wait - are you telling me you wanted to cheat on me, with *me*?"
Wes laughed, snuggling into his arms. "No, you pillock."
"'Cause that's one Hell of a threesome, Wes, I gotta say."
"It's an attractive image, certainly," Wes said. He leaned in to brush his lips along Angel's jaw. "I daresay it might give me stroke material for weeks. But no, Angel, that isn't what I meant."
"Okay," Angel said. He felt himself respond to Wes's attentions and told himself to calm down. He could jerk off in the shower later. "So what did you mean?"
Wes held him tighter. "He wasn't happy. He was you - or could have been. I'm rather unfond of the sight of you unhappy."
Angel caught Wes's mouth in a quick kiss. "Then be real fond of me, 'cause you make me happy."
Wes's eyes met his, and Angel knew they were both thinking of the same thing.
"It's still true," Wesley said. His lips brushed Angel's again. "I meant absolutely every word."
*Perfect happiness,* Angel thought. Part of him felt like he should be too mature to put much stock in it. What the Hell was perfect happiness anyway? Sure he'd felt it once, but it sounded like something out of a fairy tale. Once upon a time, frogs and princes and perfect happiness ever after. Except Wes's eyes were incredibly beautiful when he said it, and a stronger, deeper part of Angel knew he'd literally trust Wes - and whatever he said - with his soul.
"Love you," Angel replied.
"*Every* word," Wes repeated, and Angel could feel the tension start up inside of Wes's body. "I - I want to tell people."
"No rush," Angel said, keeping his voice casual, as though the idea of Wes owning up to their relationship didn't mean the world to him. "It's not a test. Do it in your own time. When you're ready."
"I'm ready now," Wes said. His hand tightened on Angel's shoulder. "Honestly."
Angel looked at him with genuine curiosity. "Are you going to tell your parents?"
Wes blanched. It wasn't much, but it was enough for a vampire to see. "I - "
"Maybe you should think about that one a bit?" Angel suggested. "Like when you're not dying?"
"I don't know," Wes replied. "That might make it easier."
The words were serious, but Wes's expression showed that he wanted a laugh, so Angel gave him one.
"I do want to tell," Wesley said. He sounded as though he was half-convincing himself.
Angel shrugged, and kissed Wes's cheek. "Tell your folks or don't. I don't care. Not like your parents ever meant much to me."
"My mum's rather nice," Wes said.
Angel decided to keep his own opinions about that to himself.
"Will you - " Wes stopped for a second, then straightened himself up and kept going. "Will you help me?"
"Sure," Angel said at once. "With what?"
"Adjusting?" Wes looked as though he hadn't said the right word. "Learning? Becoming more comfortable with this?"
Again Angel needed a minute to translate. He was touched when he figured it out. "Yeah, sure, Wes. Love to. Um - not that I'm exactly an expert on, you know, the modern stuff and all. But - "
"I only want to be comfortable in telling the world you are my boyfriend," Wesley said. He moved his hand up to tease the back of Angel's hair. "And that I'm yours, which means that I…"
Wes trailed off. Angel knew the word was still hard for him. In a way he could sympathize. Some nights he wished he could forget he was a vampire.
"Give it time, Wes," he told him. He kissed Wes's temple, hugging him closer. "I got all the time in the world. Literally. And it's all yours if you want it."
"I want it," Wesley said. "And you."
Angel gave Wes a small smile. "Say that and I'm not unhappy."
Wes grinned back. "Good."
***
Later that night Angel let Wes come into the shower with him. He took his time washing Wesley down, unable to keep his hands from exploring every nook and cranny. Wes pressed against him, eager and wet.
"Please," he whispered. His hand found Angel's cock, already slick with soap. "I know I can't, but please?"
"Gonna be awfully frustrating," Angel said.
Wes turned around and let his erection brush Angel's thigh. "It already is."
Angel felt his libido kick up a notch. Wes always turned him on, but the enforced celibacy had really done a number on him. He didn't protest when Wes started moving his hand up and down, stroking him expertly.
"We should have done this from the start," Wes said.
"You were too sick," Angel reminded him. He stepped back to let his weight rest against the tiles. His hands itched to touch Wes but he knew any severe changes in Wes's blood flow wouldn't do Wes any favors, hard-on notwithstanding. Instead he decided to compromise, moving his hand down to cup his own balls and tug at them in time with Wes's touch.
Wes was overcome by a rare moment of speechlessness. He licked his lips. Angel let himself kiss him.
"Love you," he whispered.
"Amazing," Wes said. Angel couldn't tell if he meant him, the relationship, or the view.
"Should've told me sooner you liked this," he said. He moved his other hand to touch the parts of his cock that Wes's hand couldn't cover. "Would've jerked off for you long ago."
"I wouldn't have had the words," Wes said. His eyes never lifted from below Angel's waist.
"It's real simple," Angel said. He leaned forward to talk softly in Wes's ear. "'Angel would you jerk off for me?' 'Angel would you get naked for me?' 'Angel would you *fuck* me?'"
Wes turned and kissed him savagely. "God, Angel, *please*."
"Those are good too," Angel admitted. He felt his willpower dissolving as Wes's thumb circled the tip of his cock. "Fuck, Wes - "
"Please," Wesley pleaded. "Angel, please - there must be a way."
There was, and Angel knew it. The information came to him from the same place that knew how to take Wesley the first time without injuring him. "Do you trust me?"
"Absolutely," Wes didn't even hesitate in his response.
Angel paused, wondering if he still had the skill. It had been so long since he'd tried it. But then Wes started to jerk him off faster and he knew he couldn't resist. He began kissing along Wes's neck. "Hold your breath," he told him. "Then breathe nice and slow."
Wes seemed uncertain for a second, but then obeyed. Angel felt his own cock jump in response. Fuck he loved Wes.
He started touching Wes's body, his hands unerringly finding the veins and pinching and rubbing them in just the right way. The trick was blood flow. Wes's heart was still readjusting to his own time, and putting extra strain on it - or his lungs for that matter - would only make him sicker.
But if the heart could stay at a regular pace, Angel could get him off.
Angel knew how to make people's hearts beat slower. It meant they pumped out less blood. Which, under the right circumstances, made them live longer, even if they were begging not to.
Wes's heart responded to him perfectly.
When the time came Angel dropped down to his knees and took Wes in his mouth, sucking him gently to give him the final stimulation. He could monitor Wes's pulse from here and knew when he had to speed up or slow down to keep him at just the right pace. He worked his tongue over the fragile skin, encouraging Wes's cock to release the fluid inside. Wes's hand was tangled in his hair, trembling, but by no means terrified. He tried to thrust his hips forward but Angel held him still - even a small action like that could throw off the balance.
Wes whimpered, but got the idea. His body began shaking, so Angel slowed things down even more. Wes began breathing in quick little gasps, but then seemed to remember his earlier instructions and took in deeper breaths. Angel rewarded him by taking him deep into his throat.
"Angel, *please*."
The request was whispered. Angel gave the softest hum in approval. A shiver went through Wes's body. Angel took Wes in deeper still and repeated the sound, starting softly, then gradually increasing the stimulation. He felt Wes tense against him, and tasted the readiness in his mouth. He remained patient, though, and continued the hum, knowing the vibrations would send him over without endangering him.
Sure enough, Wes came, gasping sharply and thrusting forward a bit, but not enough to send his heartrate any higher than it'd been when they started this. Angel pulled his mouth back and lapped up what drops of come he could, loving the taste of Wes on his lips.
"You," Wesley murmured. He leaned against Angel for support as the endorphins relaxed his entire body. "What about you?"
"Ask me," Angel said. He looked up at Wes to make sure he got the full connotation.
Even half-drunk with lust, Wes was a good translator. "Angel, would you - would you - "
Angel stepped in to fill the gap when Wes faltered. "Jerk off for you?"
Wes's eyes darkened with pleasure. "Yes. Please."
Angel smiled. He sat up just enough to kiss Wesley, then moved back to the end of the tub, positioning himself so Wesley could see. He made a show of running his hand down his chest slowly, then circled his hand around his cock. "Anytime, Wes. Anytime."
Fin
Recovery
By: The Brat Queen
Disclaimer: Not mine. All Joss Whedon's, Mutant Enemy's, 20th Century Fox's and all that sort of thing. 'tis but a non-profit, amateur effort, and y'all would need to get in line to sue me anyway.
Spoilers: Up to Epiphany, after which Joss and I go separate ways.
Rated: NC-17
Summary: Wesley and Angel readjust to Wes's return. (Part of the Epiphany series, takes place immediately after "Present, Imperfect")
***
Angel woke up at a none-too-subtle shove to his ribcage. His head stayed foggy for half a second, then he swung his legs over the side of the bed and immediately headed to the kitchen. Behind him he heard the bathroom door swing shut as Wesley closed it behind him. The sounds of retching soon followed.
Angel shook his head sympathetically. Interdimensional travel was a bitch.
There were ways of doing it. In fact Wes had looked them up himself as a way to stay busy when to a man everyone agreed he shouldn't even think about coming back to work for at least a week. Angel had brought Wes any book he'd asked for, and Wes spent his waking hours flipping through and showing him everything he found about the subject, his hand shaking sometimes when he remembered reading the exact same part in the exact same book but in the entirely wrong location.
"It's rather like jet lag," Wes had said, during one late-night session with a booklamp. "Or jet lag combined with a severe change in altitude. If both dimensions proceed along the same time line then all is more or less well. But if one dimension moves at a comparatively faster pace than another, the body goes through a bit of trauma readjusting itself."
Angel, who'd spent more centuries in Hell than he cared to count while the woman he loved enjoyed a summer vacation, knew exactly what Wes was talking about. Of course he had no idea which one of them had it worse - Angel might have had centuries, but Wes had a mortal body, and a heart and lungs that actually needed to work at the same speed as the world around him.
Small fucking wonder everybody'd thought he'd had one Hell of a concussion.
Angel opened up the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. He then retrieved an ice pad from the freezer and slung it over his wrist to free up his hand. He grabbed a spare blanket from Wes's favorite armchair and then gave a light knock on the bathroom door.
"Wes? Coming in."
He didn't wait for an answer. After three nights of this they'd settled into a routine and they both knew the knock was just a courtesy. Angel opened the door and let his eyes adjust to the dim light.
Wes was leaning against the bathtub. One hand rested against the toilet, the other covered his eyes. "Bloody *Hell*," he muttered.
Angel didn't need to look to know that Wes hadn't managed to bring up anything. "Dry heaves pretty much suck," he agreed.
"It's an absolutely perverse desire to *want* to vomit," Wes replied. "It goes against man and God. And vampire. Is that water?"
"You got it," Angel unscrewed the bottle and handed it over. "Drink it slow."
"Not as though I have much choice," Wes said. He brought the bottle up to his mouth and swallowed gingerly. Angel felt another twinge of sympathy. On his darker nights he still dreamt of what it was like when even blood had churned in his gut. "God. I shall never, ever, *ever* do that again. I've decided. In fact, it's a life goal."
"Good thing," Angel said. He sat down on the floor beside Wes, pooling the blanket in his lap and taking the ice pack in his hands again. "'Cause I got a real problem with you leaving me."
Wes's eyes were gray with sadness. "I don't want to."
Angel felt himself smile. "I know. C'mere."
Wesley shifted over, resting his head in Angel's lap. His hand curled around Angel's knee tightly, a reflection of the near death-grip Wes had kept on him nearly every night since he'd come back. His body shook as more spasms overcame him. "*Hell*."
Angel worked the ice pack back and forth between his hands. "I know. It'll pass. I promise."
"It's not fair," Wes said, and Angel nodded, agreeing with him. "God I want to touch you. You have no idea - "
Angel gave Wes a half-smirk. "Believe me, Wes, I've got *lots* of ideas. Kinda the problem, really."
Wes frowned at him quizzically.
Angel slid his right hand into Wes's hair, massaging his scalp. "Be a little easier if I could stop dreaming about you."
Wes gasped, then sighed as he leaned into Angel's freezing-cold touch. "Love…"
Angel swallowed. He wished he could draw a picture of Wes like this. Not sick, but - damn if the sight of Wes bending to his hand didn't make his cock ache. "Right here," he replied.
Wes turned around to look up at him. Angel changed hands to recool the first one. "That was the worst of it, you know. It wasn't just losing you. It was loosing *this*," Wes reached up to caress his cheek. "I couldn't bear it."
Angel leaned into the touch. "I know the feeling."
Wes started to place soft kisses along his stomach, his mouth finding all the places that the blanket didn't cover. "I don't want that again. I *never* want that again."
"Wes, um - " Angel moved to break the contact. "I, I mean you know I *want* but - "
"Why won't you let me?" Wes asked, his hand dipping down to trace the bulge of Angel's cock through the blanket. "I know that I can't just yet, but that's no reason why you shouldn't find pleasure."
Angel dropped the ice pack into the space between them, closing his eyes for a moment as he felt it start to take effect. "Because you can barely keep down *water*, Wes, and I'm not big on hurting you. Trust me - I've had longer times without an orgasm. It's okay."
Wes looked dissatisfied. "We made love when I was shot in the *gut*."
"Yeah, 'cause you had painkillers, about two weeks to heal, and a boyfriend whose torture kink meant he knew how to keep your guts from falling out," Angel replied. "You get me a magic cure-all for dimension sickness and maybe we'll talk. And that's *not* an invitation. Do I have to tell you again I'm big on you healing? Because I'll shout it from the rooftops if I have to."
Wes let his eyes roam up and down Angel's body. "While naked?"
"While doing *jumping jacks* if that's what it takes."
"Naked?"
"Wearing *plaid*."
"*Now* I'm ill."
Angel laughed, switching his hands again. He moved his touch lower to massage the muscles at the back of Wes's neck. "So don't bitch about my wardrobe."
"I've never bitched about your wardrobe," Wes replied. "I've bitched about your brooding and your nearly fetishistic obsession about housekeeping, but never *once* have I complained about your wardrobe being in any way sub-standard. It's what attracted me to you in the first place."
Angel rolled his eyes. "I do *not* have a - what did you call it?"
"Sense of humor?"
"The *other* thing."
"Fetishistic obsession about housekeeping."
"That."
"Oh no," Wesley said. He forced down another sip of water. "Your refusal to allow a pair of socks to remain on the floor is in no way an indication of some kind of compulsion. And I'm sure it's every man who buys three different types of cleaners for his kitchen."
"Fine," Angel said, "*You* get the vampire senses and then tell me how much you like a dirty home."
"A wonderful argument," Wesley said, "If not for the fact that you don't eat, so what precisely were you cleaning before I moved in?"
"I cooked for you before you moved in," Angel said.
"True," Wes agreed. "But before *that*?"
"Since when was my outfit the first thing you liked?" Angel asked.
Wes smirked at the change of subject. "Since the Bronze."
Angel moved his hand down Wes's chest, knowing that a cool touch against his stomach often helped. "The Bronze? Wait - the *Bronze*?"
"Yes," Wes's voice was soft, but his eyes were right on him, not hiding from the admission.
Angel felt the weight of what he'd just been told. "Um - wow."
"I thought you quite handsome," Wesley said. He was whispering, and trembling a little, but he still didn't look away. "I - I didn't fully understand the implications of that until much later, but - I noticed."
"Wow," Angel repeated. He blinked and tried to think of something smarter to say. "I mean - geez."
Wes smiled at him. He pressed a kiss against Angel's leg. "As you say."
"I - I noticed the leather," Angel said. He knew it didn't match Wes's words - or at least the depth to them - but he offered them up all the same. "Didn't fall in love with you then but - it was a real nice view. Gave me stroke material for weeks."
Now Wes looked hesitant. "Really?"
"Actually no," Angel admitted. He moved his hand down and let himself enjoy the dirty thrill of feeling Wes's pulse. "More like years. I *still* jerk off to it."
Wes's heart sped up. "How much longer must we wait?"
"Four more days, at least," Angel said.
Wesley sighed. "In four days the office is officially closed. I will buy Cordelia a new car if she gets a vision and keeps it to herself for twenty-four hours. I don't want to be apart from you."
"In four days," Angel said, "I will lock every door to this building and suck you off so long and hard your body will ache for weeks. Then I'm gonna throw you on the bed, hold you down, and fuck you until you scream. But to do that, you gotta heal. Because throwing up during sex has *never* turned me on. Got it?"
Wes threaded his fingers through Angel's. "Promise?"
Angel lifted Wes's hand to kiss it. "Promise."
***
Angel swirled soapy water around in the pot he was holding. Bits of oatmeal still stuck to the edges, but he wanted to clean it so he could make Wes another batch. It'd been a couple of days and he was finally keeping down solids. Mostly oatmeal and toast eaten with tea, but Angel was glad for anything that helped make Wes stronger.
Wes appeared at his side, holding out a hand as though to help. Angel lightly batted it away. "Go sit down."
"I'm not an *invalid*," Wesley protested. Angel just raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh shut up."
Angel smiled, going back to his cleaning.
"I was thinking of going to work tomorrow," Wesley said. He gestured to forestall any protests. "I don't mean fighting demons. But I can take phone calls, catch up on the paperwork - make myself useful."
"Good luck finding stuff," Angel said. "Cordy's been using her old 'Put this under B for Bad Dress Sense' system. I've just been asking her to get stuff for me when we need it. Saves time. And headaches."
"I see," Wes replied.
Angel waited. He didn't have to turn his head to know that Wes was looking down at the floor. He hoped the tension would go away on its own, but wasn't really surprised when it didn't. "I'm not in love with her."
"I know," Wes said. "Really, I do. It's just… seeing your face - "
Angel twisted the water off and grabbed Wes, pulling him over to trap him between his body and the sink. "My face? Here's my face, Wes. It's looking right at you and it's loving you like Hell. You. Not Cordy, not Gunn, not anybody else."
It was a small lie, but they both knew to take Buffy as a given.
"It's not about you," Wesley said. He put his arms around Angel's shoulders. "Or, rather, it is, but not in that fashion. I know that you love me. I'm just - I'm trying to come to terms with it all. It *felt* like you. He *was* you. Strange as it may seem I - I feel a little torn."
Angel took a minute to let the words run through his head. He found the answer - or what he thought was the answer - and decided to let humor handle it. "Wait - are you telling me you wanted to cheat on me, with *me*?"
Wes laughed, snuggling into his arms. "No, you pillock."
"'Cause that's one Hell of a threesome, Wes, I gotta say."
"It's an attractive image, certainly," Wes said. He leaned in to brush his lips along Angel's jaw. "I daresay it might give me stroke material for weeks. But no, Angel, that isn't what I meant."
"Okay," Angel said. He felt himself respond to Wes's attentions and told himself to calm down. He could jerk off in the shower later. "So what did you mean?"
Wes held him tighter. "He wasn't happy. He was you - or could have been. I'm rather unfond of the sight of you unhappy."
Angel caught Wes's mouth in a quick kiss. "Then be real fond of me, 'cause you make me happy."
Wes's eyes met his, and Angel knew they were both thinking of the same thing.
"It's still true," Wesley said. His lips brushed Angel's again. "I meant absolutely every word."
*Perfect happiness,* Angel thought. Part of him felt like he should be too mature to put much stock in it. What the Hell was perfect happiness anyway? Sure he'd felt it once, but it sounded like something out of a fairy tale. Once upon a time, frogs and princes and perfect happiness ever after. Except Wes's eyes were incredibly beautiful when he said it, and a stronger, deeper part of Angel knew he'd literally trust Wes - and whatever he said - with his soul.
"Love you," Angel replied.
"*Every* word," Wes repeated, and Angel could feel the tension start up inside of Wes's body. "I - I want to tell people."
"No rush," Angel said, keeping his voice casual, as though the idea of Wes owning up to their relationship didn't mean the world to him. "It's not a test. Do it in your own time. When you're ready."
"I'm ready now," Wes said. His hand tightened on Angel's shoulder. "Honestly."
Angel looked at him with genuine curiosity. "Are you going to tell your parents?"
Wes blanched. It wasn't much, but it was enough for a vampire to see. "I - "
"Maybe you should think about that one a bit?" Angel suggested. "Like when you're not dying?"
"I don't know," Wes replied. "That might make it easier."
The words were serious, but Wes's expression showed that he wanted a laugh, so Angel gave him one.
"I do want to tell," Wesley said. He sounded as though he was half-convincing himself.
Angel shrugged, and kissed Wes's cheek. "Tell your folks or don't. I don't care. Not like your parents ever meant much to me."
"My mum's rather nice," Wes said.
Angel decided to keep his own opinions about that to himself.
"Will you - " Wes stopped for a second, then straightened himself up and kept going. "Will you help me?"
"Sure," Angel said at once. "With what?"
"Adjusting?" Wes looked as though he hadn't said the right word. "Learning? Becoming more comfortable with this?"
Again Angel needed a minute to translate. He was touched when he figured it out. "Yeah, sure, Wes. Love to. Um - not that I'm exactly an expert on, you know, the modern stuff and all. But - "
"I only want to be comfortable in telling the world you are my boyfriend," Wesley said. He moved his hand up to tease the back of Angel's hair. "And that I'm yours, which means that I…"
Wes trailed off. Angel knew the word was still hard for him. In a way he could sympathize. Some nights he wished he could forget he was a vampire.
"Give it time, Wes," he told him. He kissed Wes's temple, hugging him closer. "I got all the time in the world. Literally. And it's all yours if you want it."
"I want it," Wesley said. "And you."
Angel gave Wes a small smile. "Say that and I'm not unhappy."
Wes grinned back. "Good."
***
Later that night Angel let Wes come into the shower with him. He took his time washing Wesley down, unable to keep his hands from exploring every nook and cranny. Wes pressed against him, eager and wet.
"Please," he whispered. His hand found Angel's cock, already slick with soap. "I know I can't, but please?"
"Gonna be awfully frustrating," Angel said.
Wes turned around and let his erection brush Angel's thigh. "It already is."
Angel felt his libido kick up a notch. Wes always turned him on, but the enforced celibacy had really done a number on him. He didn't protest when Wes started moving his hand up and down, stroking him expertly.
"We should have done this from the start," Wes said.
"You were too sick," Angel reminded him. He stepped back to let his weight rest against the tiles. His hands itched to touch Wes but he knew any severe changes in Wes's blood flow wouldn't do Wes any favors, hard-on notwithstanding. Instead he decided to compromise, moving his hand down to cup his own balls and tug at them in time with Wes's touch.
Wes was overcome by a rare moment of speechlessness. He licked his lips. Angel let himself kiss him.
"Love you," he whispered.
"Amazing," Wes said. Angel couldn't tell if he meant him, the relationship, or the view.
"Should've told me sooner you liked this," he said. He moved his other hand to touch the parts of his cock that Wes's hand couldn't cover. "Would've jerked off for you long ago."
"I wouldn't have had the words," Wes said. His eyes never lifted from below Angel's waist.
"It's real simple," Angel said. He leaned forward to talk softly in Wes's ear. "'Angel would you jerk off for me?' 'Angel would you get naked for me?' 'Angel would you *fuck* me?'"
Wes turned and kissed him savagely. "God, Angel, *please*."
"Those are good too," Angel admitted. He felt his willpower dissolving as Wes's thumb circled the tip of his cock. "Fuck, Wes - "
"Please," Wesley pleaded. "Angel, please - there must be a way."
There was, and Angel knew it. The information came to him from the same place that knew how to take Wesley the first time without injuring him. "Do you trust me?"
"Absolutely," Wes didn't even hesitate in his response.
Angel paused, wondering if he still had the skill. It had been so long since he'd tried it. But then Wes started to jerk him off faster and he knew he couldn't resist. He began kissing along Wes's neck. "Hold your breath," he told him. "Then breathe nice and slow."
Wes seemed uncertain for a second, but then obeyed. Angel felt his own cock jump in response. Fuck he loved Wes.
He started touching Wes's body, his hands unerringly finding the veins and pinching and rubbing them in just the right way. The trick was blood flow. Wes's heart was still readjusting to his own time, and putting extra strain on it - or his lungs for that matter - would only make him sicker.
But if the heart could stay at a regular pace, Angel could get him off.
Angel knew how to make people's hearts beat slower. It meant they pumped out less blood. Which, under the right circumstances, made them live longer, even if they were begging not to.
Wes's heart responded to him perfectly.
When the time came Angel dropped down to his knees and took Wes in his mouth, sucking him gently to give him the final stimulation. He could monitor Wes's pulse from here and knew when he had to speed up or slow down to keep him at just the right pace. He worked his tongue over the fragile skin, encouraging Wes's cock to release the fluid inside. Wes's hand was tangled in his hair, trembling, but by no means terrified. He tried to thrust his hips forward but Angel held him still - even a small action like that could throw off the balance.
Wes whimpered, but got the idea. His body began shaking, so Angel slowed things down even more. Wes began breathing in quick little gasps, but then seemed to remember his earlier instructions and took in deeper breaths. Angel rewarded him by taking him deep into his throat.
"Angel, *please*."
The request was whispered. Angel gave the softest hum in approval. A shiver went through Wes's body. Angel took Wes in deeper still and repeated the sound, starting softly, then gradually increasing the stimulation. He felt Wes tense against him, and tasted the readiness in his mouth. He remained patient, though, and continued the hum, knowing the vibrations would send him over without endangering him.
Sure enough, Wes came, gasping sharply and thrusting forward a bit, but not enough to send his heartrate any higher than it'd been when they started this. Angel pulled his mouth back and lapped up what drops of come he could, loving the taste of Wes on his lips.
"You," Wesley murmured. He leaned against Angel for support as the endorphins relaxed his entire body. "What about you?"
"Ask me," Angel said. He looked up at Wes to make sure he got the full connotation.
Even half-drunk with lust, Wes was a good translator. "Angel, would you - would you - "
Angel stepped in to fill the gap when Wes faltered. "Jerk off for you?"
Wes's eyes darkened with pleasure. "Yes. Please."
Angel smiled. He sat up just enough to kiss Wesley, then moved back to the end of the tub, positioning himself so Wesley could see. He made a show of running his hand down his chest slowly, then circled his hand around his cock. "Anytime, Wes. Anytime."
Fin
