Epiphany: Anniversary

[thebratqueen]

Score one for working from home. Here's the latest in the series:



Anniversary
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: NC17

Summary: Wesley and Angel mark their one-year anniversary. (Part of the Epiphany series, takes place after "Recovery")

***

Angel stretched, reaching an arm out to his side and -

- immediately turned over, grabbed the phone, and punched the correct speed dial buttons without having to open his eyes.

"Angel Investigations."

Angel smirked at Wes's professional voice. "Hey there. I'm trying to find the guy I'm in love with. Think you can help me with that?"

"Oh. Hello, Angel," Wes said warmly, through the faint buzz that told Angel that Wes had forwarded the office line to his cellphone. "I'm out running a few errands. Do you need anything?"

Angel rubbed his eyes and concentrated for a moment. The hotel felt empty. "Where is everybody?"

"You've just woken up, haven't you?"

"Yuh-huh, where is everybody?"

"Gunn's truck was having a bit of trouble, Cordelia is having a manicure, and I am having what might very well be a large panic attack in the middle of a bookseller's," Wes told him. "You?"

"Just woke up," Angel repeated. "Which means naked and lonely. Why are you having a panic attack at a bookstore?"

"I'm *not*."

Angel blinked. "Didn't you just say - "

"I haven't the faintest idea of what you're talking about."

Angel smirked. He knew *this* tone of voice. "Is this like how there *aren't* any rats in the basement?"

"Yes, precisely!" Wesley said.

"Except there *are*."

"No there aren't," Wes told him smoothly. "I've told you a hundred times that I will *not* live in a rat-infested home."

"So..."

"So our home is *not* rat-infested," Wes declared. There was a pause, then he added. "Bloody Hell, they expect thirty dollars for *this*?"

Angel ignored Wes's opinions of book prices. "Okay, yeah, except I *use* the basement, Wes, and I'm telling you we've got rats down there."

"No, we don't."

"Really, we do."

"They're just visiting."

Angel laughed. "They're *what*?"

"Visiting," Wes said. "Merely passing through. Hardly their fault that the Hyperion fills the block and they are forced to make use of our basement as a means by which to complete their journey from point A to point B. But they do not, however, live there."

"So it's like a highway, is what you're saying."

"Exactly!"

Angel moved over so that he was lying down on Wes's side of the bed. "*Rat highways* you can cope with."

"*Rat highways* allow me to sleep at night," Wesley said, "in your arms. So I suggest you agree with me or I'll fire you."

"Not sleeping in my arms sounds more like breaking up with me."

"You know I'd never do that."

Angel knew he was grinning like an idiot and didn't care. "So - no rats in the basement. But you are having a panic attack."

"No, I'm not."

"What? It's a panic highway?"

Now Wes laughed. "A *what*?"

"Like *I* know what that means. I'm just going with the flow here, boss."

"Yes, well - I'll be sure to include that in your annual review."

"You do that. So - panic attack?"

"You're like a terrier, do you know that?" Wes asked. "Get something between your teeth and you absolutely refuse to let it go."

"Which kinda makes me like a vampire," Angel pointed out.

"Since I've never actually seen you drag the carcasses if your former victims around by your mouth I was compelled to use imagery I could relate with."

"*Terrier*?"

"You'll have to admit there's a hair resemblance."

"Really I don't, and I'm still not distracted from the panic thing."

Wes sighed. "I would have thought mentioning your hair would suffice."

"I've met you before," Angel reminded him. "And we're at hair already? You're low on ammo."

"I'm given to understand you're naked?" Wes said with a note of hope.

"Little more distracting for you than me."

"Indeed," Wes said, and Angel could hear a hint of his desire. He paused, then added. "*I* could be naked. That might help things."

"If you were here, yeah," Angel said. He pitched his voice lower, more intimate. "C'mon - what's up?"

"The Alternative section."

"The what?" Angel asked, then understanding suddenly clicked. "*Oh*."

"Indeed."

Angel mentally kicked himself for not figuring it out. Wes lived his whole life out of books, it made sense that he'd want to go into full research mode on this too. "So - um - good?"

Wes chuckled. "I appreciate your support."

"Just took me by surprise is all. Why didn't you take me?"

"Because I *wanted* to surprise you," Wesley said. "I was going to come home triumphant from my battle with the forces of paper and binding glue."

"Any luck?"

"Did you know Elmore Leonard has a new novel out?"

"No, huh?"

"That all depends upon your point of view," Wesley said. "I *like* Elmore Leonard. I think it will be rather refreshing to sit back and enjoy this after a long day battling the forces of darkness. It will not, however, help me in any way with the other task I set for myself today."

"You don't have to do it today," Angel pointed out. "You tried. That's a big step."

"Going into a bookstore, buying a book I would have gotten anyway, and going back home is hardly a big or new step," Wes said. "It's what I always do. What I do *not* do is - is - is buy a book from a section with a rather frightening amount of pink in it."

Angel tried to picture the Alternative Lifestyle section of a bookstore and failed. He knew they existed, but he tended to ignore them in favor of the history section. "Maybe the pink's for the lesbians?"

"Well I wouldn't know since I'm having a panic attack and I'm being a coward," Wesley said. "Bloody Hell. I've faced *demons*. I've been *shot*. I..."

When Wes trailed off, Angel prompted him. "What?"

"I wanted to do this for our anniversary," Wes admitted. "I thought it could perhaps be a gesture of my affections."

Angel wished like Hell Wes was there in his arms. "Aw, jeez, Wes - "

"It's - it's only a part of it," Wesley said, reassuring him. "I actually have a proper gift for you. However I was out and about this morning and I thought I could perhaps add to it."

"You're pretty fucking incredible, you know that?" Angel told him. "And our anniversary's not until tomorrow. Plenty of time."

"It's not the same thing," Wesley said. "I *want* to do this. I *want*..."

Wes trailed off again, this time thoughtfully. "What?" Angel asked.

"Angel, when was the last time you bought a book?"

Angel thought. "Month ago? Two? Remember we had that case with the three demons and the high school? I got that thing with the Vermeer paintings when we were coming back."

"Excellent," Wes sounded satisfied.

"Why?"

"You'll see." There was a click, then Wesley added. "Hang on? There's an incoming."

"Sure," Angel said. He settled back on the bed, hooking the phone between his ear and his shoulder so he could prop his hands behind his head. He studied the ceiling and made a mental note that it needed paint.

After a few minutes, the phone clicked again. "Angel?"

"Still here. New case?"

"Could be," Wes said. "I've got an appointment with a Mr. Stacks tomorrow afternoon. He thinks his office is haunted."

"Bring Cordy along. Maybe Dennis can make a friend."

"If so then he'll be running with the wrong crowd," Wes said. "These ghosts have a rather nasty habit of throwing furniture and making anyone who enters the office feel as though they've been stabbed."

"So bring *me* then, is what you're saying."

"Tomorrow's appointment is over lunch in a safe location," Wes assured him. "But I would like you to come along when we investigate the building, yes."

"You got it," Angel told him.

'Thank you."

"Should we be getting off the phone if you've got clients calling?"

"Soon," Wes said. "There's something I wanted you to hear first."

"What?"

"This -" Angel trained his ears, and heard the beeps of a cash register scanner and someone greeting Wes and asking if there was anything else he'd wanted. He heard Wes say thank you, then add "Yes, and if you could wrap that one up please? It's for my boyfriend."

Angel felt a shiver of pleasure go through his body. "Love you like *Hell*. You know that?"

"I love you too," Wes said. "I'll be home soon."

***

Angel checked the temperature of the stove, then turned back to go into the living room. He stopped short when he saw Wes.

"Jesus," he said.

Wes looked taken aback. He smoothed down the front of his shirt. He was wearing a dark blue suit, and if Angel knew his designers at all it was made by Armani. "What?"

"You look - " Angel searched for words. "Infuckingcredible."

Wes blushed. He bent down to adjust one of the candles on the dining table that had started to lean to the side. "It's nothing. Leftover from my old career."

"Really good leftovers," Angel said. He came into the room, then paused, gesturing at his own outfit of black slacks and a red button-down shirt. "Should I change? I didn't know this was a dressing thing."

Wes grinned. "Well - naked *might* be an improvement. But no. You look fine. Wonderful, in fact. Rugged, handsome - perfect."

Angel smiled. He came closer and drew Wes into his arms. He studied Wes's face, letting himself get lost in the play of light and shadow from the candlelight. "You too."

"Thank you," Wes moved his own arms to wrap around Angel's neck. His eyes were dancing with pleasure, and Angel loved it.

"So - um," Angel said, letting his hands move down to cup and caress Wes's buttocks. "I thought I might show more interest."

Wes grinned, moving closer, but not close enough for a kiss. "Oh? Am I conversing with a drunk?"

"No," Angel said. "Just me. Just Angel. And I'm in love with you, Wesley."

There was a fine tremor through Wesley's arms, but it was lost as their mouths made contact. Angel traced Wes's lips with his own, teasing at them with his tongue. Wes's mouth opened to him at once. He felt the warmth of Wes's breath against his skin. "Love you."

"Angel," Wes said softly, hesitantly. His fingers traced circles along the back of Angel's neck. "Would you - I'm given to understand if I ask, you might remove your shirt for me?"

Angel felt a shockwave of pleasure go through him. "If you ask, I'll do *anything* for you."

"Then please," Wesley said. "Take off your shirt for me?"

Angel stepped back, leaning against the table. He waited to be sure Wes was watching, and then started to unbutton his shirt from the top. It fell to either side of him as the buttons were released. He shrugged it off of his shoulders and placed it on a chair, flexing his muscles more than necessary as he did to let Wes truly appreciate the view of him in pants and a white wifebeater.

Wes's eyes were dark. His breathing was slower. "You see? Much better already."

Angel ran a hand down his chest, tugging at the point where the white cloth vanished into his pants. "Want this gone too?"

Wes nodded.

Angel waited patiently, his eyes never leaving Wesley's.

Always a quick thinker, Wes got it. "Angel, would you remove your undershirt for me?"

"Love to," Angel said. He yanked the shirt up and off, tossing it to the floor in a heap. Again he flexed his muscles as he sat back, but this time Wes was there to meet him, his hands tangling in his hair and drawing him in for a savage kiss.

"Angel," Wes panted, almost biting Angel's mouth in his eagerness. "Would you fuck me? Right here and now?"

This time Angel groaned, feeling his willpower vanish at Wes's insistence. He grabbed Wes by the waist and pulled him around, lifting him up to place him on the tabletop. "Yes. Fuck, yes."

He could tell Wes was already hard. "Please. Will - will dinner keep?"

Angel took a second to figure out the answer to the question, because the bubbling pots on the stove were the *last* place his thoughts were. "Huh? Yeah. Don't worry."

Wes nodded, satisfied. "Then please. Fuck me now?"

"Yes," Angel answered. He moved forward and captured Wes's mouth again. Wes's hands wrapped around him lightening-quick as they kissed and rubbed against each other. Angel freed a hand, letting it caress Wes's neck, then fall down to the knot of his tie. He tugged at it, trying to release it.

"No," Wes murmured.

Angel froze at once. "No?"

Wes met his eyes. "Tear it."

Angel looked down at the expensive suit. "Wes, you can't - I mean - "

Wes cupped Angel's cheek, maintaining the eye contact. When he spoke, he said the words deliberately. "Angel, would you rip my clothes off of me?"

Angel moaned, his hand jerking to obey the command. There was resistance, then the tie fell away. Angel then grabbed at Wes's shirt with both hands and pulled to either side. Buttons cascaded down to the floor. They were soon joined by the cloth of the shirt and Wes's jacket.

Wes clung to him, trembling. Angel knew from experience it was in the good way. "Yes. Please. Tear everything?"

On impulse Angel added a burst of vampire strength, ripping open the leather of Wes's belt instead of bothering with the buckle. He then knelt down and tore open Wes's pant legs from the bottom up before taking them by the front and removing them entirely.

Wes kicked off his shoes and scrambled back onto the table, panting heavily. Angel removed his socks and then tore open Wes's boxers, freeing his hard cock. "You," Wes said. "Would you - would you get naked for me?"

Angel growled, crawling on top of the table and kissing him. He sat back and made quick work of his own clothes, throwing them onto the floor with Wes's. His own cock was hard, and he started stroking it for Wes's benefit. "Now what?"

"Fuck me," Wes whispered. He licked his lips, then said it again. "Angel, would you please fuck me?"

Wes's body was absolutely *perfect* under his. Angel pressed his weight down against him, knowing Wes loved to be held. Wes wrapped his legs around him, urging him to go forward.

"Fuck me," Wes repeated. "Angel, just *fuck* me."

Angel kissed him, hard and possessive. Wes's hips started to rock, seeking out friction against Angel's body. Angel started to move forward, then remembered.

"Wait, um - " he said. He lifted himself up, then looked around in desperation. "We - "

"Anything," Wes said, his voice tight with need. "Angel, use *anything*."

Angel gave himself points for setting the table early. He picked up the butter dish and tossed the cover aside. Wes jumped in surprise at the crash of the metal cover against the floor, but any fear was quickly replaced by pleasure as Angel took a chunk of the warm butter and began using it to prep Wes.

"Oh - oh God," Wes said. His cock began to drip with readiness. "We may have to forgo having lunch with the others for a while - "

Angel gave a surprised bark of laughter and kissed Wes again. "Love you. Love you so much, Wesley."

"I love you too," Wes replied. He pulled Angel closer. "Please? Don't make me wait?"

"Never," Angel said. He shifted position, getting Wes's legs over his shoulders and then thrusting deep inside of him. He felt his own body melt at the sensation of Wes's tight, hot ass. "Jesus..."

"Fuck me?" Wes said, as though Angel needed reminding.

"Yeah," Angel said, having lost all other words. "Yeah."

***

Hours later they cleaned up the table and started dinner again.

"You went to a great deal of work," Wesley said, indicating all of the pots in the kitchen. He was dressed in a robe now, which matched the formality of Angel's own sweatpants and bare feet.

"Wanted to make you something nice," Angel said. He gave Wes a significant look. "Wanted you to *eat* it."

"I will," Wesley promised. He poured wine, then sat down at the table. Angel served him some smoked salmon with brown bread. "Are you having any?"

"Might try some of the bread," Angel said. "Fish is kinda weird."

"You could have some blood," Wes said helpfully. "It won't disturb me."

Angel thought about it, then poured himself a glass from the fridge. He sat down across from Wes and held his glass up in a toast. "To us?"

"*Go mbeire muid beo ar an am seo aris*," Wes replied.

Angel was surprised at the Gaelic, but responded in kind. "*Fad saol agat*."

Wes gave him a bittersweet smile at that. "*A h-uile la sona dhuibh 's gun la idir dona dhuib*."

They clinked glasses. "With you they will be," he told Wes. He reached over the table to squeeze Wes's hand. "Promise."

"I'm content with one day at a time," Wes said. He put his napkin in his lap and began eating. He made a noise of approval. "It's quite good."

"Save room for the lamb," Angel told him. He picked at a slice of bread, nibbling at it more to join Wes than from any real need on his part.

"Would you like your gifts?" Wesley asked. "You could unwrap them instead of just staring at me."

"I actually like staring at you," Angel said. "But if you want - sure."

Wes got up, disappearing into the bedroom and returning with two packages, both wrapped. He handed one in gold paper over. "Here, do that one first. It's what I bought yesterday."

Angel smiled as he took the present. "This the one for your boyfriend?"

Wes sat down again, looking shy but proud. "Yes."

Angel enjoyed the weight of the book before unwrapping it to see what it was. "Huh."

"It's a small pun on the name," Wesley said. "I'll admit that's what caught my eye. But - you're so interested in various forms of spirituality and mysticism I thought perhaps..."

"No, it's good," Angel said. He turned the book over to read the blurbs on the back. "*The Soul's Religion: Turning Spirituality Upside Down to Find One's Own Path*," he read aloud.

"It's a bit eclectic," Wes said apologetically.

Angel shrugged it off. "So'm I."

Wes's shoulders relaxed in relief. "Good. I mean - you don't have to feel passionately about it. I just thought it might be an item of interest. Something to pass the long, summer days with."

Angel stood up and leaned over the table to kiss him. "It's great. Thanks."

"You're welcome," Wes said, beaming at him. He pointed to the other gift. "That's the real one."

Angel sat back and put the book down. He hefted the second gift experimentally. It was the same shape as the book, but smaller. "Um - is it a tie?"

Wes laughed. "Just open it."

Angel slipped his thumb under the red and blue striped paper and tore it away. He crumpled it up and tossed it on the table. He turned the results over in his hands. "A journal?"

"Yes," Wes said. His eyes were shining with excitement. "But look inside."

Angel opened it, then flipped it over when he saw he'd opened it from the back. Inside he could recognize Wes's handwriting. "You working on something?"

Wes nodded. "I've started to, yes."

Angel skimmed a few pages. He saw a lot of references and cross-notes that made no sense to him. He kept going, then stopped when he came across a passage.

It was in Rumanian.

"Wes," he said softly, "what is this?"

"I've been doing some research," Wes explained, "based on Romany history, some of my more obscure texts, and a few things I've been able to find using our resources. I think I can - "

"Wes, what *is* this?"

Wes faltered. "It's - it's the curse. Your curse. Or parts of it, at least. I'm still working on the translations but - "

"Why?"

"I thought - " Wes put his food down, resting his hands on the table. "Angel, I know that I'm not a very skilled spellcaster but I *am* a good spell *cracker*. I thought that if I could track down the original translation of your curse or a close approximation to it that perhaps we could *fix* it. Remove the clause. *Something*."

"No," Angel said. He snapped the journal closed. "No."

Wes blinked. "What?"

"I said no," Angel threw the book down then stood up. He went into the kitchen and busied himself getting the main course ready.

"Angel," Wes said uncertainly, "there's no danger. I haven't been associating with anyone we wouldn't normally come across in our daily lives. Granted I've had to call in a few favors from some old friends but honestly, it's worth it to me."

"I said *no*," Angel replied. He turned back towards the table, glaring. "It's not open for discussion, Wes. No. Answer's no. Now are you ready for dinner?"

"I - " Wes looked from Angel to the book and back again. His mouth opened and closed a few times. "I - I'm sorry?"

Angel closed his eyes, leaning against the doorframe. "Wes," he pleaded, "can you let it go?"

"I thought you would *like* this," Wesley said. Angel could hear the anger in his voice, and the pain. "I thought - what harm is it to try? To research?"

"*Please,*" Angel said.

There was a long silence. "All right," Wes said quietly.

Angel opened his eyes. Wes had drawn into himself. He was looking down at the table, playing idly with his food.

"I'm sorry," Angel told him.

"No matter," Wes said. He looked like he was fighting off tears.

Angel hated himself.

"It's..." he started to say, then stopped, hanging on to the moment for a minute longer. Only when Wes looked back up at him did he continue. "It's not you. It's - it's a great gift, Wes. Really. It's just... I'm so tired of this."

"What?" Wesley asked.

Angel came into the room again. "Everything. Everything with the curse, I mean. Gypsies, Wolfram & Hart, Darla, the Powers - it's like everybody wants a piece of me, you know? Wants to go a few rounds of playing with Angel's soul. I just - I need a place where that *stops*. Where I don't have to worry about it."

"I see," Wes said slowly, as though he wasn't quite sure.

Angel met his eyes to drive the words home. They came easily, now that he had started making them up. "I need to be *myself* with you, Wes. Just Angel, you know? Not some freak people get to experiment on to see if I turn evil or not."

Wes looked at the journal guiltily. "I didn't mean - I'm sorry, I never intended -"

"It's okay," Angel said at once, hating that Wes was now apologizing. "I told you, it's me. I need - " he paused again, feeling another wave of hatred. "I need to feel safe with you."

"I had no idea," Wesley said.

Angel squatted down beside him. He took Wes's hand in his, silently apologizing for his lies. "You couldn't. I never told you. And it's a *great* gift based on what you knew. But - it's not what I want, Wes. Just love me, okay? That's the gift I want."

Wes squeezed his hand. "All right," he said.

Angel moved up to kiss him. "I love you," he said, and meant it honestly.

"I love you too," Wes replied.

Angel felt a need to keep talking, to cover up every word of bullshit he'd just uttered with truths as though that could somehow cosmically make it up to Wes. "It's great that you tried it too, Wes. Really. You put a lot of work in. And if what Willow and - " he stumbled over the second name " - Jenny went through is any indication that curse is a fucking bear."

Wes nodded. "I spent a lot of hours on it."

"Is that why you kept coming to bed late all those times?" Angel asked.

"Yes," Wes replied. He gave a ghost of a half smile. "Our taxes aren't as complicated as all that."

"Least you weren't having an affair," Angel teased him, keeping his voice gentle.

Wes's hand twitched. "I wouldn't."

Angel placed soft kisses on Wes's fingertips. He met Wes's eyes again. "I love you. The gifts mean everything to me. I'm just not gonna use one, okay? I'm gonna love you like Hell for giving it, but can we pretend like it's a shirt that's not my color? Or pants that aren't my size? Something?"

Wes nodded again. "If you want."

"I do," Angel said.

"I'm - "

"Don't apologize," Angel told him. He stood up and affected a joking expression. "Anyway, not like my gift's that great either."

As he hoped, this managed to change the conversation's track. "What is it?"

"Here," Angel said. He went into the bedroom and pulled an envelope out of his bureau. He walked back to the table and handed it to Wes. "Take a look."

Wes opened the envelope and looked inside. "Reservations?"

"For a few nights in Monterey," Angel explained. He pointed out the pictures of the bed and breakfast in the accompanying brochure. "Just you and me. I thought it could be like a holiday."

Wes smiled at him. "Angel - that's a lovely gift."

Angel shrugged, keeping up the appearance of uncertainty. "Sure? 'cause Cordy said it was kinda stupid to take you to a hotel when we already live in one."

"Cordelia has no idea what she's talking about," Wesley said. He reached up to caress Angel's cheek. "You and I haven't had a holiday - well ever, actually. I think this will be wonderful."

Angel turned to kiss Wesley's palm. "I wanted to pamper you," he said, again glad that he could tell the truth. "That place has everything. Room service, hot tub - you name it. They'll treat you like a king."

Wes stood up, sliding his arms around him. "And you?"

"I'll treat you like a god," Angel promised, and meant it.

"Good, because I'm hardly going without you," Wes said.

"I'm not gonna let you," Angel said. He held Wes tighter. "I - I love you, Wes. You know that, right?"

"I do," Wesley said. He rested his head against Angel's shoulder. "Happy anniversary, my love."

Angel hugged him. "Happy anniversary."