Pet fic for charity

[thebratqueen]

Huzzah! Finally had a chance to do another charity fic request. This one is a twofer, for versaphile, who asked for "some Petverse Wes/Angel involving Wes' exhibitionist streak, and Angel giving him a new toy/present" and for calixta9 who backed up that same request with another donation on top of it. =)

Previous parts of Pet can be found here.

Other charity fics can be found here

With that, I give you...

Angel was bored.

All around him the law firm was buzzing - in some cases literally, considering some of the species of demon that were wandering the halls. Cases were being argued, clients were being dealt with, appointments were being made, deals were being brokered.

Angel had hundreds of employees working beneath him. Which was nice, but left him without anything to do.

Well - that was partially a lie. He had things to do, but he didn't *want* to do any of them. Bureaucratic bullshit of every stripe lay across his desk and Angel wanted no part of it. He felt certain this was the kind of thing he had a secretary for. Then again his secretary was Harmony. In which case it was entirely possible that the real problem was that he was delegating too *much*.

But that was a side issue. The real issue was the day in question. The sun was shining, Los Angeles beckoned, and Angel did not want to be in.

Angel looked across the lobby. He spent a minute telling himself this was a bad idea, he could wait, and that he was taking advantage of the system.

Then he ignored all of that and pushed the button on his intercom.

"Yeah, boss?" Harmony chirped.

"Get Wes for me."

"Can't you do it?"

Angel took a moment to appreciate the synergy of their thoughts, at least in terms of job descriptions. "Yes, I *could*. But I’m asking you to do it."

"He's your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend."

"You live together, work together, and do you know what together and he's *not* your boyfriend?"

"Harm, could you just -"

"I know *Spike* isn't your boyfriend but that's the whole family/grandsire thing. But *Wesley* - "

"Harm."

"What, is it some vampire/human thing? Some weird vocabulary word because you old guys - "

"Harm."

" - are too goth and pretentious to use a simple word like - "

"Harm."

" - *boyfriend* and oh my *God* don't tell me I’m supposed to call him your *consort* or something because that is just too emo for words and - "

"*Harm!*"

"What?"

Angel pressed a hand to his eyes. He wondered, not for the first time, how many points he was racking up towards his ultimate redemption. "I'm going to regret asking this but - emo?"

"You know, stupid bands like Linkin Park, Jimmy Eat World, even - "

"Yeah, definitely hating myself for asking," Angel moved his hand down to rub his face. "Say, here's a thought: why don't you get Wes for me?"

"Hel*lo*. I'm in the middle of blood break."

"Blood... what?"

"You can't expect me to drink coffee all the time, can you?"

"Harm, do you want to show up for work tomorrow?"

"Are you giving me the day off?"

"Harm, do you want to show up for work tomorrow instead of, as for example, showing up nowhere tomorrow because I've killed you with my bare hands?"

Harmony made a put-upon tsking sound. "*Fine*."

"Tell him to meet me in the garage."

"Whatever."

***

"Why don't I fire her?" Angel asked as soon as Wesley stepped out of the garage's elevator. It was ten minutes later, which had given Angel enough time to work himself into an annoyed funk as he leaned against the idling limo.

"Because you actually find dealing with her amusing, however much you grump about it," Wesley replied.

"I do not *grump*."

"Of course not."

"I am tired, bored, annoyed, and not enjoying myself."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"But I am *not* grumpy."

Wes was suddenly in his personal space, and vocabulary words or no Angel was pleased at the up close and 3D reminder of how Wes, to him, was more than anything he could give name to. "How can I make you be even... *more* not-grumpy?"

The invitation, for all that it had a bit of sass in it, was still said in that soft, inviting tone that somehow only Wes's voice managed to pull off. It was the one that made it clear Wes would drop everything to take care of Angel's needs. That Wes *had* dropped everything to take care of Angel's needs.

"I wanna go out," Angel said.

Somewhere in all of this Wes had folded his hands behind his back. He was the very picture of an obedient boy. "You can if you like."

"With you."

That brought on a hint of a smile. "Yes, Angel."

***

They drove with no real goal in mind. Angel didn't know where he wanted to go, he just wanted to *go*. The limousine prowled the streets of Los Angeles, followed by the SUV containing the security detail that protected Angel and Wesley both.

"What do you want?" Wesley asked, draped across Angel's lap.

Angel's hand caressed Wes's chest absently, but he didn't go further than that. "Not sure yet."

Wes's fingertips stroked along the open collar of Angel's shirt. The faint scratch of fingernail along Angel's neck gave lie to the fact that Wes had no idea how much he could wake up a vampire's desire by teasing him in that area. "Can I help you decide?"

Angel thought back to that morning when the two of them had been tangled in bed. "I didn't let you come before, did I?"

"Not since last night," Wesley confirmed. "Not with you, not with Spike."

"Seen Spike today?"

There was a coy look inside Wes's eyes. "Maybe for a few moments."

"Did he behave himself?" Angel asked.

"To a point," Wesley replied.

Angel laughed. He reached down, cupping Wes's cock through his dark grey slacks. "Hard. Good. I like it when you pay attention."

"I always do," Wesley said. "Though it must be said you're difficult to ignore."

"I like to think I have a certain presence," Angel agreed.

Wes pressed closer. "One must also admit you'd make me hard regardless of what Spike had done earlier in the day."

"I know," Angel moved his hand, squeezing Wes with just a light amount of pressure. "But what you don't know is that when I make you wait, you get all clingy, and needy, and the slightest touch from me makes you start to squirm."

"Your touch always does," Wes reminded him.

"Maybe, but it's a matter of degrees, Wes," Angel said. He released Wes's cock, then guided him to sit down beside him. "Not all arousals are the same."

Wes looked genuinely interested. "How's this one different from the others?"

Angel brushed his thumb over Wes's lower lip. "This is the one where I can get you to do anything I want."

"I always would," Wesley told him. "I agreed to it."

"Yeah," Angel said, "but this is the one where I can make you do the things you keep telling yourself you don't like."

Wes sat up. "Angel, where are we going?"

Angel smiled, having decided at last. "You'll see."

***

Where they went was a shopping mall. One entirely closed in, of course. Wolfram & Hart might own several of the many high-end commercial properties in the greater LA county, but for some reason had not converted any of the ones with windows to necrotempered glass. Not that Angel minded, since he didn't tend to shop in malls if he could help it.

But today he could make an exception.

He stood by one of the railings that overlooked the erstwhile courtyard in the middle of the complex. Two stories below them a fountain sent up jets of water in time to music. Around them were shoppers of various ages, genders, races - all human, as far as Angel could tell - and groupings.

Wes stood to Angel's left, his hands resting on the railing. Their security detail milled about, trying at once to look inconspicuous yet deadly.

"You wanted to go shopping?" Wes asked.

"For you," Angel said. He looked out over the storefronts that were in view below them. He actually didn't know what was available. He'd picked the location on a whim. Still, he figured he could find a place that would suffice.

A look of hope touched Wes's face. It was just as quickly dashed. "There can't be anywhere in here where you could buy a collar."

"Pet store," Angel pointed, as though getting Wes a cheap, faux leather strap to wear around his neck was actually an option.

Wes gripped the railing a little tighter. "I don't think anything in there would fit me."

"Some dogs are big," Angel replied.

Wes thought it over, clearly trying to decide if Angel was serious. "It's too cheap for you."

Angel let Wes's heart do a nervous trip before answering, "No, it's too cheap for *you*. Any collar you wear is going to be a good one. Expensive."

"Yours," Wesley replied.

"The collar or you?"

"Both."

That earned Wes a smile. "Good boy. So guess: where am I taking you?"

Wes leaned over the railing, looking at all of the stores. "There's a leather shop but I believe that's restricted to coats and luggage. There's a place that refers to binding in the window but I believe they're referring to books - "

"Which wouldn't actually be boring for you," Angel pointed out.

Wes nodded in acknowledgement. "There's a food court but you didn't say anything about feeding me. Oh! Housewares."

"I'm buying you towels?" Angel asked.

"I was thinking kitchen supplies," Wesley said. "Cutting boards, rolling pins, wooden spoons..."

Angel saw where this was going. "Rolling pins would hurt too much."

"Could depend on what they're made of," Wesley said.

"Wooden spoons, huh?"

Wes turned around, resting his back against the railing. "I'm told they're not unusual for that sort of thing."

"And if I did buy some for you," Angel said, watching Wes out of the corner of his eye, "would you admit that you liked it when I spanked you?"

A flush of red appeared at the back of Wes's neck. "I - "

"Would you beg me to do it again?"

"Angel," the word was flustered, hinting of protest.

Angel turned to face him. "What?"

Wes nodded towards the people who were walking by. "We're not alone."

"I'm sorry, was that a no?"

"No, I - " Wes looked from Angel to the shoppers and back again. "I'm sorry, Angel, I don't know what it is you want me to do."

"Easy," Angel said, "everything I tell you to. Now follow me."

They bypassed bookstores, chocolate shops, sunglass kiosks and the like. Finally they came to a clothing store. It wasn't as high end as Angel was used to buying for Wes these days, but for now it would do.

"More clothes?" Wesley asked.

Angel scanned the store to see how many people were around. "Would you rather I have you spend all day wearing nothing at all?"

"That depends," Wesley said, "am I constantly in your company?"

Angel smiled, leading Wes over to the dress shirts. He gave a signal to their security guys to make sure no one disturbed them. "You could be. Of course, that doesn't mean it would *only* be my company."

"I suppose if you're going to force me to be naked around Spike, I have no choice but to agree to your demands," Wesley gave a mock-sigh.

Angel looked over the shirt selection. "You protested that once."

"You proved me wrong," Wes admitted.

"On so many things," Angel said, giving Wes a quick grin.

"On *some* things," Wes countered. He stepped closer, bumping his hip into Angel's side. "On others I'm still very much in the right."

"Business," Angel agreed. He pulled a red silk shirt out of the mix. "Not pleasure."

"How fortunate for us that we can mix the two," Wesley said.

"True," Angel handed the shirt over to him. "Try this on."

"All right," Wes looked around. "I believe the changing room - "

Angel caught Wes by the arm before he could go anywhere. "Try it on *here*."

Wes stopped. Angel could tell Wes wasn't sure if Angel was joking again. "There are people."

"Just our security guys."

"Who count, to me, as people."

"Do you want to know how much bad karma you're earning by constantly saying no to me?" Angel asked.

Wes held up his hands. "Clarification. I - I wouldn't - "

Angel stepped in front of him, facing him down. "You are."

"I was only pointing out - " Wes made a helpless gesture, indicating everything around them " - Angel, it's not like the museum."

"I'm aware of that," Angel said, as calm as anything. "And I am also aware that if I have to tell you to take your shirt off one more time, you are not going to like the way that I punish you."

Wes stared at him a long moment. Angel could see the desires warring across Wes's face: the desire to say no, and the far more shameful desire to say yes.

Finally Wes gave in. He put the shirt down, and began unbuttoning his own.

"Good boy," Angel said.

"It's just a shirt," Wesley replied.

"Pants next."

Wes stilled.

"Does this look like my joking face?"

"Do you really want everyone in our security detail to see what's almost exclusively yours?" Wesley asked.

"Almost?"

"Spike."

"By my order," Angel said. "That you *like* him is secondary. Even if you didn't I'd still have you bending over and taking his dick."

"As I recall, you made me wait rather a long - "

Angel caught him by the arm again. This time he pulled it behind Wes's back, holding it in a tight position. "Give me lip *one more time*, Wes. I dare you."

Wes was shaking. "Angel - "

"One more time," Angel said. "One more time and you'll know what punishment is like. Do you want that, Wes? Is that what you're begging me for?"

"Angel, please," Wes's eyes were half-lidded. He was wincing in pain, but made no effort to do anything except lean into Angel's touch.

"If I want someone who's annoying I'll get Spike," Angel said. "When I take you out to play I want a good boy who doesn't give me a hassle and when I order him he says - "

"Yes, Angel."

Angel cocked his head as though he hadn't heard. "What was that?"

Wes licked his lips. "Yes, Angel."

"I don't think anybody else heard you say that," Angel told him.

"I - " Wes was breathing hard. "Angel - "

"Loud, and very obedient," Angel said. "Like the good boy you are."

There was a swallow, then Wes drew himself up. With a clear voice and student-perfect diction he said, "Yes, Angel."

Angel let him go. "There's my pet."

"Angel, I can't take much of that," Wes rubbed his arm, "it's not fair."

"See, and here's the funny thing," Angel moved in close, trapping Wes between him and the clothes rack. "We *just* talked about how you're not allowed to say no to me. And I know you're not disobeying me right now. So do you know what that means?"

Wesley shook his head. "Angel, please - "

"I know you do," Angel put his hands on either side of Wes's body. "You know the only time you're allowed to tell me to stop. What is that, Wes? Whisper it in my ear why don't you?"

The red flush was high on Wes's neck. "Angel, *please* - "

"Forgot already?" Angel leaned in, breathing his words over Wes's skin. "It's when you're so turned on that you're going to come before you can do everything I tell you to. That's it, isn't it, Wes?"

Wes nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. "Angel - "

"What?" Angel asked. "Are you going to pretend I can't see how hard you are?"

"No," Wesley said at once. "I just - Angel, *please*."

"What are you begging me for?"

"I - I don't know," Wes admitted. "Anything. Please."

"Take your shirt off," Angel told him. "Stand there with your rock-hard cock and strip your clothes off because I told you to. Because you like it when I tell you to do things, and it gets you so hard when I make you obey me in front of other people."

"You're the first," Wesley said, taking his shirt off and shucking it to the floor. He picked the silk shirt up and put it on, managing to get his trembling arms through it after only two tries. "No one else has ever done this to me."

"Nobody's ever owned you before," Angel said. "Which is a damn pity because you make such a nice little plaything."

"I can't move if you talk to me like that," Wesley said, his hands stuck as they tried to work his belt buckle. "Angel, please."

"You are so pretty when you beg," Angel said. "Which I gotta say doesn't encourage me to stop talking. I love watching you get all worked up when I haven't even laid a hand on you yet. Put those black pants on, by the way. The ones to your left."

Wes looked at the task ahead of him. "Am I to zip them up as well?"

Angel shook his head. "Undone. Just like your shirt."

With slow, unsteady hands Wes undid the rest of his pants, toed off his shoes, and dropped his trousers to the floor. As he straightened up, he gave Angel a questioning look. "All of it, or - "

"Boxers can stay on," Angel said. "You're right. Some parts of you I'm not willing to share with the staff."

There was a flash of a smile, then Wes finished dressing. When he was done the deep red silk framed his bare chest, and the dark black pants were peeled open, leaving room for his erect cock, which was still somewhat hidden by his underwear.

"How much would you beg me not to expose you?" Angel asked.

"As much as you wanted me to," Wesley replied.

"Turn around," Angel told him. He took a look at the area. There was still a semblance of privacy, if you didn't count the turned backs of their staff. "Want me?"

Wes had wrapped his hands around the metal of the clothes rack. "Yes, Angel."

"Want me right now?"

There was a moment of hesitation. "Yes, Angel."

Angel slipped his hand forward, pulling Wes's cock out from within the safety of the clothes that hid him from view. "What if I made you come right here, in front of everybody?"

Hangers squeaked as Wes's hands tightened. "Angel, please."

"Was that a yes or a no?"

Wes shook his head. "It's - I - "

"You are so damned pretty like this," Angel said. He didn't stroke Wes. He just held him, his hand poised right at the place where Wes could feel every promise of possible satisfaction. "Hot, hard, begging, doing everything I tell you to. Do you know how much I like this, Wes? Do you know how much I like doing this to you?"

Wes's head fell back to rest on Angel's shoulder. "Please. Angel. Whatever you want, whatever you're doing, *please*."

"Public place, Wes," Angel reminded him. "People walking by, our own staff listening to you whimpering for it. Whole lotta people who know just how much you're dying for my cock."

"Cock, hand, mouth, anything," Wes said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Angel, please, God, please move your hand, *please*."

"But I like you on the edge," Angel said, adjusting his grip just enough to tease Wes with the idea of actual friction. "Maybe I'll leave you like this. Would you like that? I'll drag you through this mall, clothes undone, cock out where everyone can see - "

"*Angel*," Wes said, and it was a warning now.

Angel kept going. His hand continued to make tiny movements. Little shifts, the barest suggestion of what Wes was craving. "People'd probably stare. They'd definitely know. They'd take one look at you and know you for what you were. Toy. Plaything. Obedient little boy who does whatever I tell him to. Slave."

Sweat was sliding down Wes's skin. His chest hiccupped with shallow breaths. "Angel - "

"You've been dying for me all day," Angel said. "You'd do anything. Whatever I asked, whatever I wanted, anything if it meant I'd claim you."

"Yes," Wesley whispered. His hips were moving now. Angel kept careful control, never giving Wesley's cock anything more than the tiniest touch. "Angel. *Yes*, Angel."

"What are you?" Angel asked.

Wes turned, bringing his lips as close to Angel's as he could. "Yours."

"Wanna come?"

"*Please*."

"Right here, right now, in this incredibly exposed location with God knows who watching and all those eyes on you and seeing you and knowing and - "

"Angel, my God, Angel, *please* - "

Angel licked Wes's throat. He gently bit down on his neck. Then he gave a quick jerk of his hand as he whispered, "Come, pet."

Wesley cried out, screaming as orgasm overtook him. His body shuddered hard, and Angel held him tight until the bulk of the trembling had passed.

"I..." Wes was dazed, limp in Angel's arms. "I... Angel...."

"Maybe I take you home now, huh?" Angel said.

Wesley nuzzled his shoulder. A look of happiness was deep inside of his eyes. "Whatever you want."

Angel smiled. "In that case, taking you home is just the start."