New Epiphany Fic part 1
Jun. 19th, 2002 05:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thebratqueenOkay gang, got the brand-new Epiphany for ya. Free spoiler for this arc to anyone who can guess where I got the title from. It's kind of long so I'm breaking it up into two.
Lust for a Reason
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: Angel and Wesley have two very different times together. (Part of the Epiphany series, takes place after "Day and Night, Night and Day")
Thanks to Mer for invaluable suggestions and to Cin and Wolfling for the beta read.
***
PROLOGUE
NOW
"But it's *boring*," Cordy said. "And poker is *such* a guy thing. Can't we try it? Just once?" She batted her eyelashes at Angel. Angel threw the questioning look over to Wesley, glad that it wasn't his call.
"Are you certain this is the right environment for you, given how you feel?" Wesley asked. "Consider the noise, the lights - "
"*Yes*," Cordy said. "The noise! The lights! The music! It'll be fun!"
"Lotta white folks dancing," Gunn said, thinking about it. "Be *funny*, yeah."
"I don't dance," Angel pointed out.
"So stand in a corner and drink beer," Cordy said. "You can do that, right?"
Wes gave him a familiar look. "You're not *that* bad a dancer, under the correct circumstances."
"So we're going?" Cordy said. "I can put on my dancing shoes?"
"Cordelia, your health," Wesley protested.
"Health, schmealth," Cordy replied. "I've fought demons, been covered in goo, gone through hours of cheerleading practice with major cramps and *still* managed to show up at the Bronze looking like the hottest thing out there. Believe me, I can handle an LA nightclub with a headache."
"All right then," Wesley said. "If you're certain." He looked at Angel and Gunn. "And there are no objections?"
Angel shrugged. "Fine by me."
"Been meaning to check out The Red Room anyway," Gunn said. "Might as well do it with y'all."
"Great!" Cordy said. "Nine o'clock on Friday then? Gunn, you can pick me up at my place."
Gunn feigned delight. "Oh, *can* I?"
"It's on your way, you can cope," Cordy told him.
"Are you going to be all right with this?" Wesley asked, turning to Angel.
"Yeah, sure," Angel said. "Be something to do." He flashed a small grin at Wesley. "Like a date."
A hint of color touched Wes's cheeks. He smiled back. "Indeed."
END PROLOGUE
***
THEN
Angel smoothed down the sheets, then tossed the comforter over the bed. He tugged and pulled it into place, making sure it was even all around. It wasn't perfect - he was pretty sure the blanket wasn't the right size for his mattress, but it would do.
He turned away from the bed and fixed his shirt again, smoothing any wrinkles that might have gotten into it from changing the sheets.
He wondered if red was the right color. Black pants - *not* leather - were pretty much a given, but what about the shirt? What did red say to a modern person? Was it the right thing? Was it formal enough? Maybe it was *too* formal? It wasn't the kind you tucked in, that had to be casual, right?
Was this supposed to be casual?
Shit. Maybe he shouldn't have made the bed.
Was that too much? Was that sending a message? Maybe it was too soon for that. He should mess the bed up a little. He went over to his bureau and pulled out some undershirts, throwing them onto the blanket in a pile.
There. That was casual. Hey, come on over, no big deal, don't notice the new sheets on the bed I thought I'd be fucking you on.
Except -
Was casual the *wrong* message? Maybe this wasn't *supposed* to be casual. Second time together, sort of a date, that was a *thing*, right? Or it was supposed to be a thing?
Fuck, this should be formal.
He grabbed the undershirts and jammed them back into the drawer, shoving it closed. He jerked off his shirt and threw it into the bottom of the closet, taking out a black one and putting that on instead. Basic black - couldn't go wrong. Formal things were black tie, right? Black meant formal.
This was formal. This was *important*.
Maybe he should buy flowers?
"Angel?" he heard a soft knock on the other door.
"Um - just a sec," he said, glad for the fact that he didn't have a heartbeat - he was pretty sure it'd be pounding in his ears if he did. He closed the closet door, tugged at the comforter again, then went into the outer room.
Then he paused and closed the doors between the outer room and the bedroom.
Then he turned back and opened them again.
Two steps, then back, and he left one door open, the other closed.
He hoped *one* of them would be right.
He answered the outer door.
"Hey, Wes," he said.
Wes was there in a light blue button-down shirt and grey slacks. No tie, which Angel knew was his new mode of business dress. "Hello, Angel. I hope you don't mind I let myself in downstairs?"
"Nah, no, don't worry about it," Angel said. He stepped aside and gestured for Wes to enter. "Come on. Anytime. It's okay. You're always welcome here. You know - now. Always. Anytime. Do - um - you want anything?"
Wes's eyes scanned the room and Angel gave himself a mental pat on the back. Cleaning the suite before Wes got there was the right thing to do. He'd remember that for next time. "Er - yes? I am a bit thirsty."
"Then what do you want?" Angel said, heading for the kitchen. "You name it. Beer? Water? Wine? There's wine."
Wesley followed. "Water, for the moment? Beer or wine would depend on dinner, yes?"
"Yes," Angel said, glad he'd prepared for this topic of conversation. "Absolutely right. Beer or wine *depends* on dinner. What would you like? I can make you anything."
Wes blinked. "You can make beer or wine? Won't that take a while?"
"Dinner," Angel said. "I meant dinner. I could make you something. Or we could go out. Do you wanna go out?"
"Whatever's easiest," Wesley said.
Angel floundered. He had no idea *what* was easiest. So far none of this made sense to him. "Um - up to you? I - I don't have a lot of experience here, Wes. Last dates I've been on involved dusting vamps, beating up demons and then.... I should really stop talking now, shouldn't I?"
Wes gave him a small smile. "It's all right. Besides, it's not as though I've great amounts of experience in this area myself."
Belatedly Angel remembered that he hadn't gotten Wes his water. He pulled a bottle out of the fridge and handed it to him. "Yeah, but you've been on dates. You know this stuff."
"Yes," Wesley said, taking a sip of his drink. "But with women. This - this is an entirely new area for me. In many aspects."
"Okay," Angel said. He leaned against the kitchen counter. "Well neither of us is a woman - "
"Noticed that, did you?"
Angel ignored him. "And neither of us knows what we're supposed to do here so - guess that means we can do what we like, right? If it works for us then it works?"
Wes thought it over. "I can't fault your logic."
"Okay," Angel said again. "Good. So - figured that out. Do whatever we want. What do you want to do? We could eat. Go see a movie - movies are a date thing, right? I could take you to a movie. I could buy you popcorn. I can eat popcorn. Then we could hit a restaurant or something and then - "
"I'd like to kiss you."
"- then we could - um - " Angel's brain stalled as Wes's words penetrated through his nerves. "You want to - what? I mean - okay."
Wesley stayed still, and for a minute Angel wondered if the last part of the conversation had happened entirely in his head. But then Wes put his water bottle down, licked his lips and stepped forward.
Wes's mouth felt as good as he remembered.
It was warm, like only humans could be warm, and it was attached to Wes and Wes smelled great - unnecessary overuse of cologne aside - and tasted wonderful and his body... well his body was a great secret he kept hidden underneath all those clothes. There were muscles there, and a nice ass, and a -
Yeah, there was hardness.
"I wasn't sure I'd have the nerve to try that," Wes confessed. His hands rested on Angel's chest. "But - it's plagued my thoughts all day."
"Same here," Angel told him. He pulled Wes closer. He wanted to kiss him again. "I missed you. And - I didn't know if you'd let me."
Surprise registered in Wesley's eyes. "Let you? Why on earth not?"
"Let's see," Angel said. "You're an ex-Watcher, I'm a vampire. You used to work for me, I fired you like a jerk. You used to be my friend then - well - there was that jerk thing again. You - "
"Love you," Wesley said.
Angel's train of thought derailed. In fact, he was pretty sure the engine had just exploded. He wondered if any of the passengers had survived. "Hum?"
"I - I love you," Wes repeated. His hands were trembling. "I know that there have been difficulties between us, and I don't mean to suggest that this solves them but - our night together wasn't a fluke, Angel. I meant all that I said. I *care* for you. What we shared was not a one-night stand. At least - I hope that it wasn't."
"It wasn't," Angel said at once. "Wes - as long as you want me, I'm there. I wanna be there. I wanna be with you. Wanted that for a long time, actually."
"Here I am," Wes said, simply.
Angel took in the sight of the younger man. He'd shaved - not that Wes ever got much of a five o'clock shadow - and his blue eyes...
It was different. Wes looked at him differently now. It wasn't the fear or hero-worship that Wes had had in the early days, and it wasn't the pissed off wanna-kill-you hatred that he'd had when Angel had come back into his life.
It was... *like*. *Understanding*. Maybe...
Maybe even equals?
Angel kissed him again.
This time it wasn't quick. He didn't want it to be. He wanted to kiss Wes and keep on kissing him. Kiss him twice for every time he couldn't even kiss him once. He rattled off all the times he could think of in his head - the hospital when he'd been shot, the old apartment when he'd found out about Wes's dad, that run-down room when Wes had blown into LA for the first time -
"Wes," he whispered, and he could hear how husky his voice had become.
"Strangely," Wes replied, his hands tight in the fabric of Angel's shirt, "I'm not particularly hungry at the moment."
"Can I - "
"*Yes*."
"Love you," he murmured, not sure if *that* had been out loud either but not caring. He knew he'd be repeating it a lot.
They tumbled back into the bedroom. Wes fell back against the blanket and started to work at his own shirt.
"Wait," Angel told him, "Let me."
Wes paused, then moved his hands away. "All right."
Angel smiled at him, glad for the permission. He climbed onto the bed and started to undo Wes's buttons. There was a white T-shirt underneath. Angel pulled it out of Wes's pants, running his fingers along Wes's chest as he moved the fabric out of his way.
*Beautiful*, he wanted to say, but he decided not to in case Wes thought he was making fun of his masculinity. Instead he let his actions speak for him as he moved his lips down to trace every part his hand had touched, taking care not to hit the still healing wound on Wes's stomach.
"Angel," Wes sighed. His hands rested on Angel's shoulders, massaging them.
"Seem to remember," Angel said, teasing his lips around Wes's nipples, "last time you almost came about now."
He felt Wes flush in humiliation. "Yes - er - I - "
He sat up, caressing Wes's cheek to comfort him. "Hey - hang on, it's okay."
"If you're sure," Wes replied.
Angel traced Wes's mouth with his fingertip. "I am. 'Cause I know how to take care of that."
Wes never looked away from him, even as his lips moved to follow Angel's finger. "Take care of - of what?"
"That urge," Angel replied. He slid his fingertip just inside of Wes's mouth. Wes looked uncertain, but then started to lick at it. Angel felt his insides turn to lava. "So I can take you all night long."
Wes took in a sharp breath. "Angel - "
"Lie back?" Angel asked. "Please?"
Wes nodded, moving back so he could rest his head against the pillows. "Like - like this?"
"Perfect," Angel told him. He moved his hand down Wesley's chest, skirting the wound once more, then came back around again to work at the buckle to Wesley's belt. "Now all you gotta do is hold still."
"Why?" Wes asked. "What are you - *oh*."
Angel smiled, amused at Wes's sudden silence when Angel reached his hand into Wesley's pants and wrapped his fingers around Wesley's cock. "Yeah. Oh."
Wes's hips rocked into his touch. "That - that feels - "
"It's gonna feel even better," Angel promised him. He finished undoing Wes's fly, took a second to enjoy the view of Wes half-dressed and hard beneath him, then bent his head down, wrapping his lips around Wesley's cock. He worked his mouth up and down slowly, massaging with lips and tongue, then sucked as he pulled up and off.
He looked up to meet Wes's eyes. "Love you."
Wes was breathing heavily. "*Need* you."
"Got me," Angel replied, and he bent his head back down again.
***
Lust for a Reason
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: Angel and Wesley have two very different times together. (Part of the Epiphany series, takes place after "Day and Night, Night and Day")
Thanks to Mer for invaluable suggestions and to Cin and Wolfling for the beta read.
***
PROLOGUE
NOW
"But it's *boring*," Cordy said. "And poker is *such* a guy thing. Can't we try it? Just once?" She batted her eyelashes at Angel. Angel threw the questioning look over to Wesley, glad that it wasn't his call.
"Are you certain this is the right environment for you, given how you feel?" Wesley asked. "Consider the noise, the lights - "
"*Yes*," Cordy said. "The noise! The lights! The music! It'll be fun!"
"Lotta white folks dancing," Gunn said, thinking about it. "Be *funny*, yeah."
"I don't dance," Angel pointed out.
"So stand in a corner and drink beer," Cordy said. "You can do that, right?"
Wes gave him a familiar look. "You're not *that* bad a dancer, under the correct circumstances."
"So we're going?" Cordy said. "I can put on my dancing shoes?"
"Cordelia, your health," Wesley protested.
"Health, schmealth," Cordy replied. "I've fought demons, been covered in goo, gone through hours of cheerleading practice with major cramps and *still* managed to show up at the Bronze looking like the hottest thing out there. Believe me, I can handle an LA nightclub with a headache."
"All right then," Wesley said. "If you're certain." He looked at Angel and Gunn. "And there are no objections?"
Angel shrugged. "Fine by me."
"Been meaning to check out The Red Room anyway," Gunn said. "Might as well do it with y'all."
"Great!" Cordy said. "Nine o'clock on Friday then? Gunn, you can pick me up at my place."
Gunn feigned delight. "Oh, *can* I?"
"It's on your way, you can cope," Cordy told him.
"Are you going to be all right with this?" Wesley asked, turning to Angel.
"Yeah, sure," Angel said. "Be something to do." He flashed a small grin at Wesley. "Like a date."
A hint of color touched Wes's cheeks. He smiled back. "Indeed."
END PROLOGUE
***
THEN
Angel smoothed down the sheets, then tossed the comforter over the bed. He tugged and pulled it into place, making sure it was even all around. It wasn't perfect - he was pretty sure the blanket wasn't the right size for his mattress, but it would do.
He turned away from the bed and fixed his shirt again, smoothing any wrinkles that might have gotten into it from changing the sheets.
He wondered if red was the right color. Black pants - *not* leather - were pretty much a given, but what about the shirt? What did red say to a modern person? Was it the right thing? Was it formal enough? Maybe it was *too* formal? It wasn't the kind you tucked in, that had to be casual, right?
Was this supposed to be casual?
Shit. Maybe he shouldn't have made the bed.
Was that too much? Was that sending a message? Maybe it was too soon for that. He should mess the bed up a little. He went over to his bureau and pulled out some undershirts, throwing them onto the blanket in a pile.
There. That was casual. Hey, come on over, no big deal, don't notice the new sheets on the bed I thought I'd be fucking you on.
Except -
Was casual the *wrong* message? Maybe this wasn't *supposed* to be casual. Second time together, sort of a date, that was a *thing*, right? Or it was supposed to be a thing?
Fuck, this should be formal.
He grabbed the undershirts and jammed them back into the drawer, shoving it closed. He jerked off his shirt and threw it into the bottom of the closet, taking out a black one and putting that on instead. Basic black - couldn't go wrong. Formal things were black tie, right? Black meant formal.
This was formal. This was *important*.
Maybe he should buy flowers?
"Angel?" he heard a soft knock on the other door.
"Um - just a sec," he said, glad for the fact that he didn't have a heartbeat - he was pretty sure it'd be pounding in his ears if he did. He closed the closet door, tugged at the comforter again, then went into the outer room.
Then he paused and closed the doors between the outer room and the bedroom.
Then he turned back and opened them again.
Two steps, then back, and he left one door open, the other closed.
He hoped *one* of them would be right.
He answered the outer door.
"Hey, Wes," he said.
Wes was there in a light blue button-down shirt and grey slacks. No tie, which Angel knew was his new mode of business dress. "Hello, Angel. I hope you don't mind I let myself in downstairs?"
"Nah, no, don't worry about it," Angel said. He stepped aside and gestured for Wes to enter. "Come on. Anytime. It's okay. You're always welcome here. You know - now. Always. Anytime. Do - um - you want anything?"
Wes's eyes scanned the room and Angel gave himself a mental pat on the back. Cleaning the suite before Wes got there was the right thing to do. He'd remember that for next time. "Er - yes? I am a bit thirsty."
"Then what do you want?" Angel said, heading for the kitchen. "You name it. Beer? Water? Wine? There's wine."
Wesley followed. "Water, for the moment? Beer or wine would depend on dinner, yes?"
"Yes," Angel said, glad he'd prepared for this topic of conversation. "Absolutely right. Beer or wine *depends* on dinner. What would you like? I can make you anything."
Wes blinked. "You can make beer or wine? Won't that take a while?"
"Dinner," Angel said. "I meant dinner. I could make you something. Or we could go out. Do you wanna go out?"
"Whatever's easiest," Wesley said.
Angel floundered. He had no idea *what* was easiest. So far none of this made sense to him. "Um - up to you? I - I don't have a lot of experience here, Wes. Last dates I've been on involved dusting vamps, beating up demons and then.... I should really stop talking now, shouldn't I?"
Wes gave him a small smile. "It's all right. Besides, it's not as though I've great amounts of experience in this area myself."
Belatedly Angel remembered that he hadn't gotten Wes his water. He pulled a bottle out of the fridge and handed it to him. "Yeah, but you've been on dates. You know this stuff."
"Yes," Wesley said, taking a sip of his drink. "But with women. This - this is an entirely new area for me. In many aspects."
"Okay," Angel said. He leaned against the kitchen counter. "Well neither of us is a woman - "
"Noticed that, did you?"
Angel ignored him. "And neither of us knows what we're supposed to do here so - guess that means we can do what we like, right? If it works for us then it works?"
Wes thought it over. "I can't fault your logic."
"Okay," Angel said again. "Good. So - figured that out. Do whatever we want. What do you want to do? We could eat. Go see a movie - movies are a date thing, right? I could take you to a movie. I could buy you popcorn. I can eat popcorn. Then we could hit a restaurant or something and then - "
"I'd like to kiss you."
"- then we could - um - " Angel's brain stalled as Wes's words penetrated through his nerves. "You want to - what? I mean - okay."
Wesley stayed still, and for a minute Angel wondered if the last part of the conversation had happened entirely in his head. But then Wes put his water bottle down, licked his lips and stepped forward.
Wes's mouth felt as good as he remembered.
It was warm, like only humans could be warm, and it was attached to Wes and Wes smelled great - unnecessary overuse of cologne aside - and tasted wonderful and his body... well his body was a great secret he kept hidden underneath all those clothes. There were muscles there, and a nice ass, and a -
Yeah, there was hardness.
"I wasn't sure I'd have the nerve to try that," Wes confessed. His hands rested on Angel's chest. "But - it's plagued my thoughts all day."
"Same here," Angel told him. He pulled Wes closer. He wanted to kiss him again. "I missed you. And - I didn't know if you'd let me."
Surprise registered in Wesley's eyes. "Let you? Why on earth not?"
"Let's see," Angel said. "You're an ex-Watcher, I'm a vampire. You used to work for me, I fired you like a jerk. You used to be my friend then - well - there was that jerk thing again. You - "
"Love you," Wesley said.
Angel's train of thought derailed. In fact, he was pretty sure the engine had just exploded. He wondered if any of the passengers had survived. "Hum?"
"I - I love you," Wes repeated. His hands were trembling. "I know that there have been difficulties between us, and I don't mean to suggest that this solves them but - our night together wasn't a fluke, Angel. I meant all that I said. I *care* for you. What we shared was not a one-night stand. At least - I hope that it wasn't."
"It wasn't," Angel said at once. "Wes - as long as you want me, I'm there. I wanna be there. I wanna be with you. Wanted that for a long time, actually."
"Here I am," Wes said, simply.
Angel took in the sight of the younger man. He'd shaved - not that Wes ever got much of a five o'clock shadow - and his blue eyes...
It was different. Wes looked at him differently now. It wasn't the fear or hero-worship that Wes had had in the early days, and it wasn't the pissed off wanna-kill-you hatred that he'd had when Angel had come back into his life.
It was... *like*. *Understanding*. Maybe...
Maybe even equals?
Angel kissed him again.
This time it wasn't quick. He didn't want it to be. He wanted to kiss Wes and keep on kissing him. Kiss him twice for every time he couldn't even kiss him once. He rattled off all the times he could think of in his head - the hospital when he'd been shot, the old apartment when he'd found out about Wes's dad, that run-down room when Wes had blown into LA for the first time -
"Wes," he whispered, and he could hear how husky his voice had become.
"Strangely," Wes replied, his hands tight in the fabric of Angel's shirt, "I'm not particularly hungry at the moment."
"Can I - "
"*Yes*."
"Love you," he murmured, not sure if *that* had been out loud either but not caring. He knew he'd be repeating it a lot.
They tumbled back into the bedroom. Wes fell back against the blanket and started to work at his own shirt.
"Wait," Angel told him, "Let me."
Wes paused, then moved his hands away. "All right."
Angel smiled at him, glad for the permission. He climbed onto the bed and started to undo Wes's buttons. There was a white T-shirt underneath. Angel pulled it out of Wes's pants, running his fingers along Wes's chest as he moved the fabric out of his way.
*Beautiful*, he wanted to say, but he decided not to in case Wes thought he was making fun of his masculinity. Instead he let his actions speak for him as he moved his lips down to trace every part his hand had touched, taking care not to hit the still healing wound on Wes's stomach.
"Angel," Wes sighed. His hands rested on Angel's shoulders, massaging them.
"Seem to remember," Angel said, teasing his lips around Wes's nipples, "last time you almost came about now."
He felt Wes flush in humiliation. "Yes - er - I - "
He sat up, caressing Wes's cheek to comfort him. "Hey - hang on, it's okay."
"If you're sure," Wes replied.
Angel traced Wes's mouth with his fingertip. "I am. 'Cause I know how to take care of that."
Wes never looked away from him, even as his lips moved to follow Angel's finger. "Take care of - of what?"
"That urge," Angel replied. He slid his fingertip just inside of Wes's mouth. Wes looked uncertain, but then started to lick at it. Angel felt his insides turn to lava. "So I can take you all night long."
Wes took in a sharp breath. "Angel - "
"Lie back?" Angel asked. "Please?"
Wes nodded, moving back so he could rest his head against the pillows. "Like - like this?"
"Perfect," Angel told him. He moved his hand down Wesley's chest, skirting the wound once more, then came back around again to work at the buckle to Wesley's belt. "Now all you gotta do is hold still."
"Why?" Wes asked. "What are you - *oh*."
Angel smiled, amused at Wes's sudden silence when Angel reached his hand into Wesley's pants and wrapped his fingers around Wesley's cock. "Yeah. Oh."
Wes's hips rocked into his touch. "That - that feels - "
"It's gonna feel even better," Angel promised him. He finished undoing Wes's fly, took a second to enjoy the view of Wes half-dressed and hard beneath him, then bent his head down, wrapping his lips around Wesley's cock. He worked his mouth up and down slowly, massaging with lips and tongue, then sucked as he pulled up and off.
He looked up to meet Wes's eyes. "Love you."
Wes was breathing heavily. "*Need* you."
"Got me," Angel replied, and he bent his head back down again.
***
