Protocol, Part Thirteen

[thebratqueen]

Previous parts can be found here.

PART THIRTEEN

When Angel became a father there were certain fundamental things about him that changed. Even Angel knew that. For example, he became more aware of himself. What his morals were, what he wanted to teach to someone of the next generation.

He became more demonstrative. Not to *other* people, granted, but to those of his family. His son, he vowed, was not going to grow up wondering what it would feel like if his father hugged him, or even wondering *if* his father would hug him.

He became more invested in what was going on around him. He was no longer content to sit on the sidelines and live the life of a hermit. Instead he grabbed the world by both hands and shook it, demanding that it conform to the high standards of living that he held for his child.

(This part was, admittedly, taking some time but Connor was only 18 and Angel had hopes that at the very least he'd managed to make a good start of it. In the back of his head he thought he'd like to be finished by the time the grandkids came on the scene. It wasn't his first choice, but it was a plan that worked both in that it provided a good work in progress world for Connor, an actual perfect world for the theoretical grandchildren, and also guaranteed that by the time they got there Angel would have retired and thus would have plenty of time to do nothing beyond spoiling said grandchildren silly. He planned to do that a lot.)

And he also, as many parents do, developed the instinct to rip the beating heart directly out of the chest of anyone who so much as made his child *frown*, let alone perform days-long acts of torture on anyone who actually went so far as to cause him actual hurt, pain, or general discomfort.

This instinct was only occasionally metaphorical.

This instinct also developed the ability to bleed out into other areas of his life.

It was an odd thing to go from a pathetic, empty, hollow shell to that of a being with a passionate vested interest in righting whatever injustice he saw through whatever hard, violent, physical acts of demonstration that he could, but after some time Angel liked to think he was getting the hang of it.

Then he got married again.

***

"What do you want?" Wesley asked, the words tickling Angel's ear as he pressed in closer, his hips rocking up into Angel's and hitting his cock in a way that felt just so fucking *good*.

Angel tossed Wes down onto the bed, then crawled on top of him. Answers suggested themselves, like *I want to fuck the unhappiness right out of you.* but that seemed a bit wordy, and apt to bring up more debate about whether or not Wes was or wasn't allowed to be happy and how the *fuck* did you teach somebody to have *sex* and not bother to mention *it's supposed to feel good?*

No, no, he wasn't getting into debate. They'd hit a groove here. Angel acted, Wes obeyed, and okay that was possibly more of the slavery thing that Angel had been trying to skirt his way around but on the other hand there *were* cultural differences to consider here and maybe Angel had to respect that and oh *God* it should not be legal for Wes to be able to do that with his hand.

Wes looked up at him with sky blue eyes, his fingertips trailing insane patterns along the front of Angel's pants. "Can I please you, my Lord?"

A tiny bit of guilt wormed its way out. Angel looked at him with concern. "Wes - "

"I am here to please you," Wesley said, his lips dancing over Angel's own and Angel couldn't *not* kiss that. *God* couldn't not kiss that. "To serve you. To answer your every need. Please, my Lord, let me satisfy you."

Angel clung to the thesis of why he'd brought Wes in here in the first place. "I want you to enjoy yourself. I want you to *like* this."

Wes rolled him over, straddling his waist. He rocked his hips again with a look that said he knew damn well that each tiny bit of movement in that area tore through Angel's willpower like wet tissue paper. "I like serving my husband. I have trained my entire life to do nothing except please you." Wes leaned in now, their noses bumping together. "I want this. I *like* this. I would want this even if you hadn't been kind to me. But you have, and I do. *Please*, my Lord. Let me serve you? Please?"

And who the Hell could say no to *that?*

"Long as we're clear," Angel started to say, but then Wes's mouth was on his own and yeah, kissing was much, much better.

"I can do anything you like," Wesley said. His fingers caressed Angel's cheeks, his neck, his chest. "Rough, tender, with toys, without. Anything at all. What do you want of me?"

Angel sat up, He ran his thumb over Wes's lips, smiling when Wes automatically parted them. "I want to be inside of you."

"I'm yours for the taking," Wesley replied.

"I want to fuck you, good and hard."

Wes's eyes were closed now, his breathing shallow. "Yes, my Lord."

*I want to not be as turned on by you calling me that as I am every time you do it,* Angel thought to himself, but kept that wish silent. Instead he said, "I want you to tell me what you like."

"You, my Lord," Wesley said.

Angel kissed him. "Besides that. I want you to tell me what you like in bed."

Wes's brows furrowed together. He looked up at Angel with concern. "My Lord, I - I don't know what I like."

Angel clamped down hard on the anger that rose up within him. He had to. He didn't want Wes getting scared of him again. "I know," he said, gently. He rubbed Wes's back to help keep the both of them calm. "That's why I need you to tell me. If I do something you like, say so. That's an order, got it?"

Wesley nodded, looking solemn and not a little bit young. Then, brightly, he offered, "This is nice."

Angel forced himself not to laugh. "Good," he said. He moved his hand around Wes's waist, then up to those tempting nipples. He pinched one, steady and strong. "How about that?"

Wes gasped, then nodded. His eyes were closed again. "Yes."

How much would it take to undo God knew how many years of conditioning? Angel wondered. On the other hand, he had plenty of time. And all the permission in the world to work with. If Wes was his spouse and had to obey, Angel was happy to take full advantage of that. "Yes what?"

Tiny frown on his lips now. "Yes, my Lord?"

Angel felt he probably should have seen that coming. He kissed Wes, showing he wasn't upset. Then he increased the pressure on the nipple until it was impossible for Wes to keep still. "I asked you to tell me what you liked. Do you like this?"

"Yes," Wesley said, the word coming out in a tight exhale of breath.

"Then you tell me yes, you…" Angel prompted.

Wesley got it. "Yes, I like it."

"Good boy," Angel purred. He licked Wesley's neck on sheer instinct, his own mind tripping down happy memories of nights and days like this in the bedroom playing family games that Connor would never know about or, thankfully, be a part of. He belatedly remembered that he was trying to downplay the vamp thing around Wes but Wes only shivered, and Angel felt Wes's cock start to think about getting hard.

Fair enough. Angel could follow a lead. "Did you like that?" he asked.

"Yes, I liked that," Wesley said, doing it quickly, in a rush that made it all one word: YesIlikedthat.

Angel ran his hand along Wes's thigh. "Say it again. Slower. I like your voice. Let me hear it."

Bad choice. For some reason that made Wes tremble in the wrong way. But he did it nonetheless. "Yes, I liked that."

Angel made a mental note to cross off verbal corrections for a little while. He'd pursue finding out *why* later. In the meanwhile, he distracted Wes by licking his neck again, swiping his tongue over and over until Wes bared his throat and his hands clasped tight to Angel's shoulders for purchase. Once he felt Wes's memory was sufficiently foggy, he asked, "Did you like that?"

"Yes," Wesley whispered. His breathing was slow and steady now. "I liked that."

Angel pushed him back against the pillows, resting against Wesley's chest. He moved the palm of his hand along Wes's throat, collarbone, pectorals. "Do you like it when I touch you?"

Wes swallowed. His voice was soft and distant. "Yes. I like it when you touch me."

Angel wondered how far he'd taken Wes. From being trained to not touch himself to admitting he liked *any* kind of touch, let alone a vampire's, this had to be dangerous territory. He decided to give Wes some safety in the familiar. "Do you like serving me?"

"I very much like serving you," Wesley said. He was smiling. It took Angel a moment to realize that Wes actually looked happy.

He smiled back. Wes's delight was too hard to resist. "I've earned my way to a 'very much'?"

"My husband always is a 'very much'," Wesley replied. He moved lower, wrapping one leg around Angel's waist. "But right now I need no protocol to demand I use those words for you."

Angel realized he hadn't given Wes enough compliments in turn. He tried to phrase them in Wes's language. "Do you know that I want you? I thought that I wouldn't, but I do. I look at you and I find myself thinking very naughty thoughts."

There was a look of delight in Wesley's eyes. "My Lord could do very naughty things, if he would like."

"You like knowing I want you?" Angel asked, genuinely curious.

Wesley nodded. "A spouse's curse is to be unwanted. Undesired, in any way."

Angel took Wesley's hand and put it over his own aching cock. "Then I'd say you were pretty blessed. It's all I can do to hold back from taking you."

Wes began to stroke him. "Why? I am yours. Take whatever you want from me." Then, understanding dawning in Wesley's eyes, he said, "I *like* when you take what you want from me."

"My own personal sex kitten," Angel murmured, thinking of Spike's description of all this.

Wesley sat up, and licked Angel's lips. "Yes, my Lord. And I would very much like if you treated me as such."

Angel pressed down into Wesley's body. "Keep this up and we're not going to get to the fucking."

"You could fuck me after," Wesley said. Then, a little chastising. "Or ask me to *help*. I'm here to serve, why won't you let me do that?"

Angel smirked at him. "Catholic guilt."

Wesley grinned back, then brushed Angel's lips with a more sober kiss. "You have married me, my Lord. God won't mind if you take your pleasures with me. And even if he did, I most certainly don't. Angel, it makes me unhappy to fail at what I do. Fuck me. Treat me like what I am. Let me *be* what I am. It's what I want. I swear to you."

Angel looked at Wes steadily. The rare use of his name held more impact than anything else Wes could have done. But doubt still lingered. "You say that even though I'm a vampire?"

"You are my husband," Wesley said, lacking even a hint of his former fears. "That's the only thing that matters to me."

Angel held Wes's hand, looking at his ring as it glittered in the firelight. "I want to protect you."

"And I wish to serve you," Wesley said. He threaded his fingers through Angel's. "These are not mutually exclusive goals."

Angel thought about it. His mind lingered over the memory of Wes's misery at not knowing what to do. "You belong to me now."

Angel wasn't sure if he'd intended that as a statement or a question. Either way Wes replied to it. "Utterly and completely."

"I like that you belong to me," Angel told him, keeping quiet about the part where he liked that Wes belonged to him because it meant he did *not* belong to the Council. Instead, he moved his hands along Wesley's arms, drawing them up until Wesley could touch the headboard.

"A happy state for us both, my Lord," Wesley replied. He was watching Angel carefully, his eyes dark.

"Don't move your hands," Angel told him.

Wes looked as though he understood this game. "Yes, my Lord."

Angel began to unbutton his shirt. "Keep telling me what you like."

"I like knowing that I'm serving you," Wesley said.

"I'm starting to get that," Angel said. He tossed his shirt onto the floor then began working on his pants. "What else?"

"I like that," Wes said, quietly.

Angel paused, his hand halfway towards dumping his pants and the rest of his clothes onto the floor. "What?"

"That."

Angel tried to encourage him. "Can you be more specific?"

Wes licked his lips. Angel could hear his heart thundering. When he spoke, Angel had to strain even his preternatural hearing in order to make out the words. "I like looking at you."

"You think I'm attractive," Angel translated.

Wesley nodded. "Very, my Lord."

Angel pulled Wesley's legs apart, moving them to either side of him. "You think I look good with my clothes off."

"Yes," Wesley said. Then, softer. "I like looking at you while you are…"

"Naked," Angel prompted.

"Naked," Wesley repeated, the word was barely a breath. Slightly stronger he added, "My Lord."

Angel began to prep Wes, taking his time about working the lubricant into Wes's body. "What else do you like?"

Wes's fingers curled around the headboard. Angel watched him strain to keep his concentration. "That. I - your hand. There. I like your hand there."

Angel slid a finger deep inside, then held it. "Right here?"

Wes's muscles were quaking. "Yes."

"Yes…?"

"Yes, I like your hand right there," Wesley said. Then again added, "My Lord."

"You used to say that to mean I was being stupid," Angel said. He pulled his hand back, then slid two more fingers inside. "Now it sounds different."

Wes's eyes were squeezed shut. His breathing was hard, and his hips could not keep still. "I - I mean it differently, my Lord."

Angel began to stroke Wes's cock with his other hand, teasing his thumb around the wet tip. "How do you mean it?"

"I - I can't," Wesley said. His head lolled from side to side. He thrust into Angel's touch then jerked back as though trying to stop himself. "My Lord, I - "

"I'm *ordering* you to tell me," Angel said. "Obey me, not the Council."

Wes's eyes opened a slit. His pupils were dark, his expression hungry. "Fuck me," he whispered. "When I say it I am thinking that I want you to fuck me. Please. My Lord, I am dying for your cock."

"Well, that'd explain why it kept turning me on," Angel said.

Wes frowned in confusion. "Pardon?"

"Never mind," Angel told him. He pulled his fingers out, lifting Wes's legs up until he could easily press the head of his dick right there at the newly slick opening. "Tell me more."

"I like your cock," Wesley said. "I like what it feels like when you fuck me."

"Want me inside of you?"

"*Yes*," Wesley said. Then, immediately, "I'd like you inside of me, please, my Lord."

"I like when you say it like that," Angel told him. Then rewarded Wes - and himself - by sliding himself in. He took a moment to regain control as his body nearly overloaded from the sensation of Wes holding him.

Wes pressed up into him, squeezing muscles that were in just the right spot. "I'd like to please you."

"I'd like for this to last more than a minute," Angel replied.

Wes had actual curiosity at that. "Do vampires not have greater willpower?"

"They don't when they've got their own personal sex kitten gripping their dick like a python, no," Angel replied.

Wes grinned. Then did it again. With no sign of remorse he said, "I did warn my Lord that I am good at what I do."

"You don't lie," Angel said. He thrust forward, smiling in satisfaction when Wesley gasped. "I'm told I'm good too."

"You are," Wesley said. "My Lord - Angel, you are."

Angel held still, the sensation of his own name washing over him. He took stock of the man in his arms. "I like you," he said, his voice quiet enough to match one of Wesley's own confessions.

Wes's blue eyes were locked on his own. "I like you too," he whispered.

Angel leaned down. He took Wes's lips in a kiss. This time softer, lighter than any they had done before. When his hips moved it was in time with Wes's heartbeat, starting steady at first, then growing faster and faster until Wes was gasping, and his eyes were wet, and his fingers clung to him as Angel used his hands to hold them down and then they were both crying out, Wes sobbing in air, and the climax felt so pure and so sweet that as Angel lay there in the afterglow he felt as though he could see colors swirl along the skin where Wesley lazily caressed him.

"I want to protect you," Angel said, and he meant it as a vow, as seriously as he would have for Spike, or Connor.

"I want to serve you," Wesley replied, and Angel knew that he meant it in kind.