Pet, Part Eleven

[thebratqueen]

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Wesley woke to a world that was warm and full of Angel. He stretched out, feeling the sunlight on his bare skin as he comforted himself against Angel's chest.

Then, not fully awake yet, he moved down.

His lips caressed the hills and valleys of Angel's body, tasting the borrowed heat that made the skin feel something that was closer to mortal, but would never exactly be quite the same thing.

He tickled coarse hairs with his breath, flicking his tongue out to catch at delicate areas - the belly button, the line of his hip, that one inch on his abdomen that Angel refused to admit made him giggle when touched.

Then he moved yet again and swallowed that wonderfully perfect cock.

It wasn't fully hard yet, but it was hard enough to work at Wesley's jaw and make him stretch to accommodate. He sucked, pulling it in as much as possible, wanting to take in every bit of Angel because he could, and because Angel wanted him to. He braced himself against the mattress, bobbing his head, rising and falling against the shaft in a rhythm as easy as breathing and just as rushed. This was Angel's, and Angel's pleasure. Wesley felt a deep-seated desire to make it last as long as possible.

Angel woke up. His body stirred, reacting to the sensations. Then he reached down, wrapping a statue's hand around the back of Wesley's neck, holding him there as though he were a kitten or a recalcitrant child and either way he shouldn't have liked it but in point of fact he did and found himself whimpering accordingly.

He tried to stay on task, however, focusing himself on the project at hand as he would any other assignment. Angel allowed this, then took over, hips thrusting up into Wesley first in a slow wave, then gradually harder and harder until all he could do was relax his mouth and let Angel fuck him accordingly, doing what he could to give the vampire precisely what he needed until the muscles tensed, then his mouth flooded with surprisingly hot and salty fluid.

Angel relaxed, a large and satiated puddle. "Good boy."

Wesley's own hips stirred. "Thank you."

The hand on his neck tugged at him. "Come here."

Wesley shifted up. Angel immediately angled a thigh between Wesley's legs, holding a hip to rub them together with a burning, far too dry friction that even still had Wesley rapidly gasping and trying to bite his own lip and even struggling to somehow try to delay the sensation of - of - but no, there, he was coming and making himself and Angel sticky in the process.

"Mornin'," Angel said, his eyes still closed as he drew Wesley into his arms again.

"Bit closer to afternoon," Wesley corrected, the glowing red of the nightstand clock looking blurry through his lashes. Then, realizing, he sat up. "Angel, you'll be late for - "

Angel pulled him back down again. "Nothing. I took the day off."

Wesley paused to be certain he'd heard correctly. "You did what?"

"Took the day off," Angel repeated. "I had to work the weekend, I'm taking a damn day off."

Wesley sat up. "I thought you didn't do that. *Have* you ever done that? I don't think I recall - "

"Then I'm due," Angel pointed out. He looked up at Wes. "Besides, I promised you a gift."

Wesley smiled. "Your day off is my gift? I must say I like it. Assuming I'm allowed to take one too."

Angel gave him a look. "No, *you* have a staff meeting. Yes, you get the day off too. And actually that's just a part of it. It's morelike we're taking a day off and you getting gifts is where it starts. Here." Angel reached out to snake a hand into his coat, which had fallen to the floor. He then handed the results to Wesley. "That's for you."

"Thank you, I - " Wesley stopped, staring at the watch. He recognized it from a model he'd secretly lusted after in a technology catalogue. "Angel, this easily costs five thousand dollars."

"Actually six," Angel said, propping his head back on his hands. "I had them add in the pager and the two-way radio."

Wesley wavered. On the one hand he *had*, in his boyish heart of hearts, rather longed for all the gizmos. On the other - "Angel this is far too extravagant."

"No such thing."

"I assure you, there is," Wesley told him. He tried to meet Angel's eyes. "It isn't that I don't appreciate it. I do, truly. But it's utterly unnecessary. You needn't buy me these things."

"But I want to."

"Which is very kind," Wesley said. "And I know to you the money is, well, surprisingly meaningless but I can't help but feel…."

Angel quirked his eyebrows at the silence. "What?"

Wesley wondered how to word it. "It isn't necessary," he said, his voice more serious than before. "I know you believe otherwise but you don't have to do this. It isn't necessary to bribe me for - " he stumbled, then recovered " - into enjoying our arrangement. I am happy. I would be happy even if you never bought me anything again. I am content with what we have."

Angel sat up, facing him down. "This *is* what we have. I give, you take."

"That's entirely unacceptable," Wesley told him.

"I don't recall asking for your opinion on it," Angel replied.

"Angel," Wesley tried to reason, "my job is to *help* you, *support* you, not leech off of you like some kind of - "

"Your *job*," Angel said, calmly, "is to *belong* to me. If, as a *hobby*, you'd like to lend me a hand, then that could be allowed if I said so. But you are mine, first and foremost. If I tell you to jump you jump, if I tell you to blow me you blow me and if I tell you to take these gifts then you take the damned gifts. Besides, they're *gifts*, Wes. Why would you even *want* to say no to them?"

Wesley answered without thought. "Because I don't deserve them."

Angel stood up, and the bed was vast and empty without him.

Wesley tried to speak. "Angel, I - "

"Shut up."

Wesley quieted.

The tension of Angel's body could be felt in the air. Wesley sat still, feeling as though he were waiting for lightening to strike.

Finally Angel spoke. "Why did you say that?"

Wesley shrugged, helplessly. "It's just a feeling."

Angel stared at him. The vampire's eyes were very old and terrifyingly powerful. Even so, Wesley would not look away. He let Angel search whatever part of him he wanted, holding nothing back. When Angel continued to say nothing, Wesley took a chance. He slipped off of the bed, then knelt down in front of him.

"I am yours," Wesley told him, part statement, part apology. He held up his left hand, his preferred one for watches. The watch itself rested in his palm for Angel to take. "I don't get a 'no', and I belong to you."

The muscles of Angel's throat worked before he replied. "You deserve it," he said. He bent down just enough to brush his fingers over Wesley's wrist, kissing the inside veins before wrapping the watch around it and fastening it closed. "You deserve this and a lot more. I'm going to give that to you, Wes. Make up for - make up for life knocking you around more than it should. You're mine. I'm going to take care of you."

There were volumes that Wesley would have cheerfully died in order to be able to speak, but he knew there was only one thing Angel wanted to hear. "Yes, Angel."

Angel kissed him, pulling him onto his feet. The moment lasted several heartbeats before he stopped. "Get dressed. Wear something blue. I'm taking you out. Doctor first, and then a surprise."

"Sounds like fun," Wesley said, wondering what kind of conversation passed for normal under these sorts of circumstances.

"Should be," Angel agreed, then thought about it. "That is - you *do* like chess, right?"

***

"You don't think it's a little strange?"

Lorne looked up at Fred from his position on the other side of the lab table. "You might be asking the wrong person here, sweet potato."

"I don't mean - " Fred adjusted her glasses, embarrassed at the inadvertent misstep. "Not *that*. Not, you know, in *general*. After all my Uncle Timmy spent his whole life with his - " she made air quotes with her fingers " - 'roommate' and it didn't bother anybody at the family reunions."

"Really?" Gunn asked, surprised.

Fred gave him a lightly scolding look. "Not *everybody* in Texas is closed-minded, Charles."

"Not that," Gunn said, brushing muffin crumbs off of his fingertips. "I meant dude went his whole life calling himself 'Timmy'? That ain't right."

Fred decided to ignore him. "All I'm saying is that with Angel and Wesley you don't expect them to be - "

"*You* didn't expect them to be?" Gunn asked, eyebrows arching in surprise. "You *seen* how much time they both put in on hair care?"

"*Couple-y*," Fred clarified. She indicated the tiny med room that Angel and Wesley had recently vacated. "With touching and feeling and Angel doing that really weird thing with his eyes - "

"You noticed that too?" Lorne asked.

Fred nodded, glad someone else had picked up on the way Angel had barely blinked the entire time Dr. Epstein had removed the small cut on Wes's cheek. Instead he'd just stared, his gaze never leaving Wesley for an instant, not even when Fred had tried to talk to him to say hi. "It was just… *odd*. The way he just *stood* there. All quiet and kind of creepy and sort of like - "

"Morning, all," Spike said, walking into the room.

Fred scootched over in case Spike wanted to sit down at the lab table with them. "Hey, Spike."

"What's this little meeting about then?" Spike asked, picking up one of the coffee cups without bothering to ask if it belonged to anyone.

"Angel and Wes," Gunn said, watching Spike as though he were getting ready to grill him on the witness stand.

"Good topic, that," Spike said, putting the now-empty cup back down on the table. "Came here looking for 'em myself."

"Just missed them," Lorne said, apologetically. "They were in, they were out."

"They're definitely *out*, all right," Gunn said.

Spike cocked his head. "Problem with that, Charlie?"

"You know," Gunn said, annoyance shaping his tone, "really no. If Angel and Wes wanna do the nasty in every elevator in this office - "

"Angel and Wes did - " Fred started to ask, then stopped herself because she really didn't want to know.

" - I don't care," Gunn continued. "It's the *lying* about it that bugs me."

"Didn't know it was any of your business," Spike pointed out.

"My so-called friends choosing to lie to me?" Gunn asked. "Sounds damn sure like my business."

"Oh come on," Lorne said, waving a peace keeping hand. "So the two lovebirds decided to keep mum during the big honeymoon phase. We know now, right? What's the diff?"

"Angel and Wes *do* deserve some privacy," Fred said, trying out the feeling of the sentiment as she spoke it. "I mean, sure, there's the whole happiness clause Angelus comes back and tries to kill us all problem, but if Wes doesn't break the curse… actually Wes not breaking the curse is probably something he doesn't want to brag about." Fred ducked her head and picked at the remaining pieces of her jelly donut.

Spike seemed to smirk but Fred couldn't be sure. "He does fine enough for Angel, and if Angel didn't need to tell you when he got his rocks off before I don't see why he's required to break with tradition now. 'sides, you lot ought to be happy *somebody's* keeping him sane and sober."

"It's music to my ears," Lorne said, "no matter who might be playing that particular trombone."

If that meant anything to Spike, he gave no indication.

"I think we should support them," Fred decided. "Spike's right. Angel's going through a lot what with running the firm and everybody constantly trying to kill him - "

"Which reminds me I gotta fire the plant guy," Gunn said to himself.

" - and goodness knows we could *all* use a little stress relief," Fred added. "If Angel and Wesley have managed to find happiness together then I say yay for them."

"Good on ya, pumpkin," Lorne agreed.

"I still don't like the lying," Gunn said, "but fine, whatever."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Glad we all hugged and shared that out. Now don't suppose any of you can tell me where couple of the year went off too? They're not upstairs and following my nose lead me right to the middle of this crap."

"They left," Fred said. "Angel took the day off and said he was taking Wesley out to the vacation house."

Spike frowned, puzzled. "There's a - " then just as soon as it appeared, the expression was gone. "Yeah, right, that. Slipped my mind. Angel mentioned it yesterday. I'll start forgetting my own head next, just you wait. Yeah, he told me all about it. Said he'd be going 'bout now and getting back - uh - later. Which is why I'm… going to go do my own thing. Without him. Or you lot, come to think of it. If you need me I'll be a whole lot of elsewhere."

And with that Spike left.

There was a moment of silence.

"Is it just me or does he get weirder every day?" Gunn asked.

"It's not just you," Fred assured him.

***