RockStarPeach

This was written for a request over at feedmykink, for a little Wes/Angel post pulled from the ocean punishment action.
And so of course it ended up way more emotional and angsty than hot.  I seriously suck.  Hard.

Title:  Penalty
Pairing: Wes/Angel
Rating: Adult

Penalty

Hmm.  Was that a fish?  A clown?  Maybe a unicorn?  No, just his mind loosening it’s slight hold on reality by the second.  And he found he was sort of happy about it.  If he was crazy he wouldn’t have to torture himself with thoughts of Connor, Holtz, Cordy… Wes.  He could just lay back, drink his milkshake and enjoy the circus.

 

Hey, check it out!  A monkey riding a unicycle!

 

***

 

Cordelia rolled her eyes skyward, or would have if she still had actual eyes, she wasn’t too sure about that.  She also wasn’t too sure exactly where she was, so the sky might be underneath her, or in another dimension or something, but in any case she was exasperated. 

 

This higher plane business wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.  Sure, she was doing good here, higher power working for the light and all that, but she missed her friends.  She missed her shoes.  She missed Angel. 

 

She could still see him.  She could see them all and had watched over each an every one of them since she had ascended, and as much as it hurt her not to be with them, she knew they’d be fine.  Well, more or less anyway, with a little help from Queen C herself. 

 

She’d been watching Fred and Gunn trying to find her, find Angel, keep up the good fight when they were both falling apart a little inside, because they knew they couldn’t keep it up, not for long, not by themselves when they had someone who used to be a friend still wedged inside their hearts breaking them down, making them miss him. 

 

She’d been watching Connor trying to keep his secret from the only two people in the world that were trying to help him, a part of him wishing every day that he hadn’t condemned his father to a watery prison, while the other part hoping that Angel would stay down there forever, nothing but his own evil thoughts for company.

 

She’d been watching Angel fighting to get free of the chains and the coffin and giving up fast, because all his supernatural strength was no match for the security his son and Justine had put in place.  She watched inside his head and his heart and saw that he blamed himself for what Connor had done, for not holding on to him tighter, for not finding him sooner when Holtz had taken him, and blamed Wes even more for betraying him, for taking his beautiful darling son and handing him over to the man who had sworn his life to destroying Angel.  She saw him wish he had killed Wesley, and then wish he could die himself, guilt over thinking such things about someone he used to *still did* care so deeply for.

 

Mostly she’d watched Wesley.  Watched him try to forget about his betrayal of Angel and his banishment from his only real family in work and booze and Lilah’s body.  Watched him lock Justine in a cage and giver her a bucket and pretend he didn’t get off on it.  Watched him planning and searching for Angel, knowing that when he did find the vampire it wouldn’t make a difference; he still would not be accepted back into the fold.  Watched his heart freeze over and his mind turn numb and go through the motions of life without actually living.

 

Wes would find him soon.  She could see him, tiny little fishing boat wading through the water, throwing a mask at Justine, telling her to go for a swim. 

 

She had a message for Angel.  Something she needed him to know before he saw Wes again, something that might make him able to forgive a little easier, and if not, at least he would know the truth, and after all that had happened between their screwed up little family until during the past months, they all deserved a little honesty.

 

She closed her eyes, and concentrated and cursed Angel again for not snapping out of his latest crazy-induced fantasy, and tried again to let Angel know what she knew.

 

***

 

Slowly the juggling bear faded from Angel’s view, the light feeling of euphoria evaporating with it.  Momentary panic hit him hard as he realised once again where he was and he fruitlessly fought in his confines once more, until another image appeared.

 

This time it was Wesley.  He had seen Wes before, hands wrapped around his throat, fangs at his neck, fingers pulling cruelly on his short hair, but this time none of those things happened.  It wasn’t even as if he could really see Wesley, just had a picture of him in his mind, sitting on his living room sofa, drinking, silent tears streaking his face, reading... a diary.

Then suddenly information flooded his mind.  No, not information, emotion.  It was as if he could see into Wesley’s heart, feel all he felt, know all he knew.  Wes was thinking about Connor, about Angel, about everything that had happened, and Angel pulled out all the pieces of the puzzle, all the information that had led Wes to do what he had done, and knew that the only motivation behind his every action had been love.  Wesley had been in love with Angel, and that had been the driving force behind everything he had done for the past 4 years, including taking Connor.  He had cared about Connor too, of course, but really, he’d wanted to protect Angel from his own worst nightmare, knew he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he was the cause of any of his son’s pain.

 

Wes had honestly thought that Angel was going to kill Connor, and when he had tried to talk to him about it, the spiked blood Angel had been drinking had only enforced the belief.  He had never meant to give the baby to Holtz, only wanted to take him away and keep him safe.  And now that it was done, and Connor’s life had been effectively ruined, and Wes knew that he’d been wrong, Wes hated himself, couldn’t forgive himself for making one mistake that turned out to be the worst mistake a friend *lover* could make.

 

Angel tried to shake off the vision, the intimacy of knowing all this too much for him, and as the image of Wesley faded from his mind’s eye, a brief thought of Cordy, and a sense of deep comfort washed over him, and he thought maybe there was a reason he had been shown this.

 

***

It had been a week since Wes had pulled Angel from the bottom of the ocean, and after he had dealt with Connor he had spent several days resting and drinking, regaining his strength and his sanity.  Well, most of it anyway.

 

He was unable to get the unwanted thoughts of Wesley out of his head.  Knowing that the man had been acting in what he thought were Angel’s own best interests should have made him feel better, but for some reason he thought maybe it had made it worse.

 

Unsure exactly what it was he was supposed to be feeling he had taken to stalking the man.  Following him on assignments, to the grocery store, to Lilah’s house…  Just a few minutes ago, as he stood outside Wesley’s apartment building waiting for him to come out he remembered something from his vision.  Wesley had been reading a diary.  Was it his own diary?  A watcher’s diary?  Was it something that Angel was supposed to see?

 

When Wes had come out he had let the man leave, and with the feeling that he needed to find that book, let himself in to the apartment.

 

And that was how he found himself on Wesley’s floor, books pulled from the shelf and scattered haphazardly across the floor completely entranced in Wesley’s personal journal.

 

He had started with the more recent entries, reading all about Wesley’s interpretation of the prophecy and plans to take Conner.  He read about how conflicted Wes was, and how he didn’t want to do it, but felt he had no choice, how his love for Angel was what made him go through with it, even though he knew he would never be able to see him again after… never be able to see any of his friends again.

 

Angel had known all of that, somehow from the message that Cordy sent him, but seeing it written here, in his friend’s own handwriting, in a book that served as his only confidant throughout what must have been an extremely difficult time, made it somehow more real.  Made Wesley’s feelings real, and his well-intentioned, but foolish mistakes understandable, and perhaps forgivable.

 

Then he went further back in the journal, all the way back, in fact, to when they had first met in LA, and read all about their initial working together and subsequent friendship, and the evolution of their relationship into something deeper.  He had experienced it all himself of course, but reading it through Wes’s eyes, described experiences coloured by hero-worship and love, made him smile, and remember that he had once felt that way about Wes too, a long time ago.

 

As the years passed through the journal and he read about Wes’s feelings becoming stronger, the love becoming a different sort of love, emotions and lust and desperation nearly overtaking him at times, and Angel wondered what it would have been like if he’d given in when he’d had those thoughts about Wes instead of hiding them away, pretending there was nothing between them but friendship.

 

Angel was still there, too engrossed in his reading to hear the door open or the soft footsteps that followed, when an angry “What the hell are you doing here?” made him jump and drop the diary to the floor.

 

Wesley looked down at the mess on the floor and the book that Angel had dropped, and with a voice so low that if Angel weren’t a vampire he might have missed it, hissed, “Get.  Out.”

 

“Wes…” Angel started, before realising he didn’t have anything to say, and got up off the floor, leaving the apartment without looking back.

 

***

 

Wesley was furious, he was hurt and most of all, he was embarrassed.  He picked up the diary Angel had been reading and sat down on the sofa with it, placing it unopened on his lap.  He sighed and closed his eyes and leant back, thinking that it might have been better if Angel had killed him.

 

He still might, now that he knew…. Well, everything that he had read.  Angel had been aware of Wesley’s attraction for some time, he was sure, but they were both able to ignore it for the most part, happy in what their relationship did allow, but now it was different.  Angel had read it.  In Wes’s own words, read how he felt, how he needed Angel, needed for him to love him and touch him and… but it didn’t matter.  He could never have that, especially not now.

 

He wondered what Angel had been doing there in the first place, why he had broken in to his flat, gone through all his books, read his personal thoughts, and fury started to replace embarrassment as his chief emotion.  Who the hell did Angel think he was?  Sure, the man had been living in sewers for the better part of the last century, but in polite circles it was customary to knock first before you stole literature and ripped your former friends’ hearts out.

 

He went to bed feeling righteously angry, and the feeling hadn’t faded by morning.  By suppertime it had grown slightly and the little pit of fire that had settled in his belly wouldn’t leave him alone until he confronted Angel.

 

***

 

“Where the hell do you get off?”  Wesley yelled as he burst into Angel’s room at the Hyperion.   Angel had been sitting on his chair, sketch pad on his lap and set it down on the floor next to him when he saw Wes come in.

 

“Breaking into my apartment?  Going through my things?  Reading my private… “

 

Angel just started at him as he trailed off, and Wes began to feel a bit like a fool, coming here like this, demanding answers.

 

Angel stood then, and he was hit with simultaneous desires to choke and kiss the other man.  Reading his diary had begun to stir up some of his old feelings, and he had a desperate urge to act on them this time around, to see where that action would take them, but he hadn’t forgotten about the result of Wesley’s actions, even if they hadn’t been carried out with malicious intent, and the anger was screwing with his desires.

 

He crossed the room to Wesley, the man backing up slightly, fear in his eyes, as Angel got closer.  Soon Wes had his back to the wall, Angel invading his personal space and the vampire’s hand shot up lightening-fast to grab hold of the frail human neck, that urge apparently being the one he was acting on first.

 

Wesley had barely had time to bring his own hand up gasping for air, to try to pry Angel off of him, when the vampire loosened his hold slightly and began to talk.  “Where do I get off?  You took my son Wes, my son!  And gave him to my enemy.  And you need to pay for that.  Don’t you think?”

 

Wesley remained silent, not able to talk for the crushing grip on his windpipe.  “I said, ‘Don’t you think’,” Angel reiterated, and brought his hand down so Wesley could answer.

 

He moved his own hands to his neck, soothing the pain slightly, and between deep gasping breaths said honestly,  “Yes, Angel, I do.”

 

Angel was startled for a moment, not expecting Wes to agree, but quickly recovered, thinking that this may be the perfect excuse to get a little more physical with Wesley, while not having to admit that there was a part of him that wanted the closeness without the violence.

 

“Alright Wes,” Angel growled, yanking the man by the front of his shirt and giving him a shove in the direction of the bed.  “I’m gonna punish you.  I’m gonna hurt you, and I’m gonna make you wish I had just killed you.  And then maybe I’ll grant your wish.”

 

Wesley was terrified of what Angel was going to do to him, but knew he had gotten himself into this, and really did agree with Angel, that he needed to be punished.  Maybe if he was, if Angel took out his anger and resentment on Wesley he could work it out of himself and they’d both feel better.

 

Wesley nervously walked to the edge of the bed, where Angel obviously wanted him to be, and he was both afraid and a little bit excited about what was going to happen here.

 

Angel caught a whiff of the sudden arousal pouring off of Wes and was immensely relieved.  He wanted to hurt Wes, a little, but not as much as he was letting him believe, but he wanted to worship him a little too, and Wesley’s arousal did wonders for his libido. 

 

“Take your belt off,” he instructed when Wesley had stopped moving and turned around.

 

Wesley felt a flutter in his stomach as his arousal and fear both notched up a bit higher and his eyes opened wide, not quite believing what Angel was asking him to do.  The vampire stepped menacingly closer, and Wesley hurried to comply, not wanting to give him any more reason to hurt Wesley than he already had.

 

With shaky fingers he undid the belt buckle and slid it through the loops, not quite knowing what to do with it after that, but he held it up to Angel like a pet bringing home a gift for his master.

 

Angel smirked at Wesley’s eagerness to please, thinking that it would really pay off before the end of the night.  He took the belt from Wesley, grabbed one of his wrists, and tossed him onto the bed, jumping on after him and pulling him up so that his arms were raised above his head.  He looked down at Wes and held out the belt for him to see before slowly wrapping one end around a wrist and sliding the leather through two slats on the headboard before attaching the open end to the remaining wrist.

 

Angel sat back to get a good look at his captive, and grinned as Wesley tested the restraints, tugging a little and twisting his arms, to no affect.

 

“These aren’t necessary, Angel,” Wes told him.  “I’ll not fight you.”

 

“You might, by the end.  Besides, I like the look.”

 

Angel reached down to Wesley’s feet and slowly undid his shoelaces, then carefully removed each shoe, and placed them on the floor followed by his socks.

 

“Angel.. what…?” Wes stammered out trying to hide his shiver of anticipation at the vampires finger running along the arch of his foot.  Hitting, biting, choking, these things he expected.  Taking off his shoes was surprising. 

 

Angel could tell exactly where Wesley’s uncertainty was coming from.  “Oh, don’t worry, Wes old buddy.  We’ll get to the pain.  I just like a clean canvas.”  Angel had to put in a concerted effort not let his own sexual interest show as he gently trailed his hands up the human’s calves, over his knees, and up his thighs.  When his fingers finally reached the man’s hips, he violently gripped Wesley’s waist band and with a mighty, vicious tug tore the zipper apart and sent the top button flying.

 

Wesley’s heart rate skyrocketed at Angel’s violent outburst, and he did his best not to react, but Angel noticed the very slight jerk he made, in an instinctive attempt to brace himself against the danger.  “Wes, Wes, Wes,” Angel chided.  “Don’t try to hide your reactions from me.  Seeing you squirm is half the fun, and if you hold back, you’re just gonna make me have to work harder.  And I don’t think either of us wants that, do we?”

 

Angel began to dig his fingers harder and harder into his hips, but Wesley continued to hold himself silent and still, regardless of Angel’s warning.  Angel continued his assault until Wesley had bruises sufficient enough to need days to heal and then angled his fingers so that his nails were digging into the flesh.

 

The pain was finally enough for Wesley to react, but not very much.  He grimaced, and bit his lip, and let the tiniest of moans escape his lips, and that sound along with the sight and smell of little droplets of blood flowing down from the skin under Angel’s fingertips was enough to force Angels own soft groan.

 

He was angry with himself for letting that small enjoyment show, and he used that anger to fuel his next action as he yanked Wesley’s pants over his hips, down his legs and flung them across the room.  When he turned back to the bed he was delighted to see Wesley visibly recoil, whether from the action or from the demon’s face he was now sporting he didn’t know or care.

 

“What’s the matter Wesley?  This is the real me.  What?  Not a face you could love after all?” Angel asked him, maliciously.

 

The trouble was, Wes thought, that it really was, and he really did.  Oh, yes it also scared the shit out of him on occasion, like for example right now, but if he was completely honest with himself, that was always part of the appeal.  The uncertainty, the danger, the taboo, it was all just as much of a turn on for him as the man himself.

 

He knew that Angel knew all this already, and could only imagine that he was bringing it up to rub his nose in it.  The gentle touches designed to make him increase his desire for one thing, the violence that followed serving to rip away that illusion.

 

Keeping true to the pattern he had set up, Angel bent forward, gently easing each and every one of the buttons of Wesley’s shirt out of the holes, and pushed the sides of the shirt apart, baring the human’s perfectly toned chest.

 

He sucked in a breath through his teeth in appreciation and then faster than Wesley could see he grabbed the man by the hair, painfully pulling his neck back as best he could while they were lying on the bed.  He then lowered his head to Wesley’s neck, scraping his fangs down the smooth skin across his collar bone, down his chest, across his abdomen and stopped just above the elastic band of his boxers.

 

Angel didn’t even bother resisting the urge to lick up a few of the drops of blood that had pooled in his wake with light flittering licks, and was rewarded by Wesley pushing the smallest fraction closer to him, trying to achieve a more solid contact with Angel’s tongue. 

 

Angel laughed and pulled back.  “I think you’re enjoying this a little too much Wes.  This is supposed to be a punishment, remember?”

 

Wesley’s insides lurched as Angel stood up and removed his own belt, but he relaxed slightly when he saw that the larger man intended to keep the rest of his clothes on.  For now at least, he reminded himself.  There was no telling how far Angel would take things in his current state of mind.

 

Angel toyed with his belt, gently running the soft leather through his fingers, over his arm, and looked at Wesley and asked him, “How many lashes, Wes?  Hmmm?  What’s fair, do you think?  For taking my baby.  For knowing where I was all that time in the ocean, and not telling anyone.  For leaving me there?” 

 

Wesley thought that he probably couldn’t count as high as the number of strikes he should receive at Angel’s hand for the ordeal with Connor, and the remorse showed in his eyes at Angel’s first questions.  But when he listened to Angel blame him for his stint at the bottom of the sea he let some of his own anger show.

 

“You’re welcome, Angel.  For dragging your sorry hide out of there at all.  Seems I was the only one who cared enough to bother.  Perhaps I shouldn’t have.”

 

“Wrong answer,” was all the warning Wes received before the belt cut a vicious slap across his stomach, blood rising to the surface to give the wound a pretty red tinge.  Wesley clenched his teeth and cried out slightly, more in surprise than pain, unable to keep himself from reacting.

 

This is it, he thought as Angel raised the belt again.  Wesley was pretty sure that Angel was done playing around.  Some serious pain was about to start, and he kind of felt like he shouldn’t be as aroused at that thought as he was.  He could die here tonight.  Angel was more than capable of the act of murder, especially with his emotions high, like they were now, but his mortal fear wasn’t enough to wilt the huge erection tenting the front of his shorts.

 

“20, I think.  To start.  Then we’ll see.  Count with me, Wes,” Angel instructed as the belt swung down a second time.  When it landed on Wesley’s chest, harder than the first blow, Wesley let out a full cry and arched into the pain letting out a pain-roughened “one”.

 

Angel smiled again at Wesley’s obedience, but since the man had his eyes closed he didn’t catch it.  The man looked so damn good like that, stripped down, tied up, marked by Angel.  His pants were becoming uncomfortably tight, and he took the small opportunity to adjust his cock before getting back to his task.

 

Nine more blows rained over Wesley’s chest, stomach and arms, the man’s cries becoming softer, his counting barely audible as he relaxed into the pain and the rhythm.  Angel couldn’t have that.  “Break time,” he announced, and as Wes opened his eyes to seek out Angel or the belt or both, Angel slowly, deliberately hooked his fingers into the waist of Wesley’s shorts and slid them down his legs.

 

Wesley closed his eyes against the scrutiny and turned away, embarrassed.  It wasn’t as if Angel hadn’t known he was getting off on it, his hard on was clearly visible through the flimsy material of his underwear, but to have his eager weeping cock poking up at the vampire, free and uncovered while he was physically assaulted was a bit undignified.

 

Angel wanted so badly to open his mouth over Wesley’s straining dick and taste some of the mouth-watering saltiness glistening on the tip.  He wanted it so badly, in fact, that he hadn’t realised he had done it until Wesley’s answering thrust, pushing the penis further into his mouth roused him from the spell that naked Wesley had cast.

 

Angel pulled back, startled, unsure what to say next, so he avoided talking, avoided eye contact and flipped Wesley over, so he was face down on the bed, arms twisted none to gently over his head.

 

Wesley lay still, a strange sense of calm surrounding him momentarily.  He had seen something in Angel’s face a moment ago.  He had seen reverence, pleasure, and not the kind that comes from torturing your enemies.  He wasn’t sure what it meant, but dared hope, for the split second before the belt came down again, that maybe someday, when they had worked all this out, that Angel could share his feelings.

 

With a renewed sense of purpose and dedication to getting though his punishment, Wesley squirmed and cried and pushed up into the lashes across his arse, counting loudly and firmly as five more stokes landed.

 

The more Wes moaned and squirmed and bucked into the bed trying to escape the brutal belt or rub himself off on the sheets or probably both, the harder Angel got.  And the harder it got for him to continue the punishment.  He was enjoying it, no doubt about that; they both were.  But he wanted something more.  Needed something more.  Wanted to throw the belt away and bend down and lick all of the wounds that he inflicted better.  Wanted to kiss and lick and touch with gentle fingers.  Wanted to see if these softer feelings had any place in what remained of his relationship with the man.

 

But he couldn’t do those things.  Not yet.  He had promised Wes a punishment, and that’s what he’d deliver.  He needed to work out his aggression for both their sakes and needed Wes to understand who was ultimately in charge.

 

Angel flipped him back over, more carefully this time, and when he saw the streaks of tears running down his cheeks, the red welts across his front becoming more irritated from the friction with the bed, he told him softly, “Almost done, Wes.  You’re doing so well.”

 

Wesley closed his eyes against the gentle praise, that somehow hurting more than anything else had that night.  Anything else, that was, until the next 10 seconds, in which Angel packed more pain than he thought could ever fit into the rest of his life.

 

Wanting to get this torture over with as quickly as possible, Angel let out a low growl and brought the belt down in five fast strokes directly over Wesley hard cock and balls.  Wesley screamed, long and loud, but to give the human his due, he didn’t try to get away.  When it was done Angel tossed the belt aside and stood to rid himself of his own clothing.

 

Wesley tried to focus on Angel through the tears in his eyes, and he cried out again as his bleeding and beaten dick tried to harden at the sight of a nearly naked Angel in front of him.  When this night began he had hoped Angel would take him, but he was in so much pain now, he would surely derive no pleasure from it.  He supposed that was the point.

 

Angel knelt between Wesley’s legs on the bed, spreading them apart, garnering no resistance from the man, but no help either.  Wesley was completely passive, having giving up any action at all.  Angel sighed, biting into his own wrist, letting the blood collect in his palm, and then spread it sparingly over his engorged shaft.

 

He wasn’t sure about this anymore.  Didn’t want to hurt Wes anymore, but they both needed this.  Hoping desperately that he didn’t cause Wesley any more pain tonight, he slowly gently slid into him, whispering, “I’m sorry,” into his ear before he slid back into his human face and kissed the man delicately on the neck.

 

Wesley had been right.  It was not pleasurable at all.  It didn’t hurt much though, and he supposed he should be thankful for that, at least.  He tried to relax, open himself up as Angel thrust into and into and into him, and hoped that it would soon be over.

 

After several minutes Wesley felt Angel pull his face back from his neck and had turned his own head to look at him before he could think that it was a bad idea.  What he saw undid him.  Angel was crying.  His heart clenched in his chest as he once again blamed himself for the pain of this beautiful creature and canted his hips slightly in silent invitation for Angel to continue his movements.

 

Angel started at the sudden participation and realised he had been crying.  He took one his fingers to his cheek, collecting a tear and inspecting it on his finger before offering the finger to Wesley.

 

Wes opened his mouth, a bit uncertainly, and the finger was placed to his lips.  He snaked out his tongue to taste the salty liquid, then closed his lips over the finger, licking and sucking and swirling his tongue around the tip.

 

The actions sent a jolt of lust through Angel and he began to speed up the movement of his hips slightly, angling himself differently to that he was occasionally hitting that sweet little bundle of nerves inside Wesley, making him cry out in pleasure, not pain, and buck against him.

 

Angel trailed his hands across every inch of Wesley’s skin that he could reach, soft touches meant to sooth the sting of earlier hostility.  When his hand came to Wesley’s half hard penis he used extreme care, stroking and petting and caressing it to full hardness despite Wes’s piteous moans of discomfort.

 

Once Wesley’s pleasure seemed to outweigh his pain and Angel was as good as lost in the delicious sensations, things seemed different.  Angel wasn’t angry anymore.  Not with Wesley, not really.  He hadn’t completely forgiven the man yet; that would take time.  But now he wanted to.  Now he desperately wanted Wes back in his life, wanted… something.  And wanted to try to have that something.

 

Wesley still felt guilty.  He probably always would, but having suffered and survived his sentence at Angel’s hand he felt absolved of at least some of his guilt.  Felt like maybe they could get past this and move on to… something.  And he wanted that something to start now.

 

Wesley leaned his face up toward Angel as much as he could reach with his hands tied to the bed, clearly looking for a kiss.  Angel surprised Wes by pulling back saying, “no”.  Had he read him wrong?  He was sure Angel had felt… maybe not.

 

“No,” Angel continued.  “This isn’t right.  Not right.”  He lunged forward, ripping the belt in half, freeing Wesley’s hands.  This was no longer about anger and vengeance, guilt and forgiveness, this was about two men, trying to discover if they had any chance at life beyond betrayal. 

 

Wesley’s eyes moved to Angel’s, shocked, delighted that he hadn’t been wrong, and his hand lunged forward to grab Angel by the back of the head and pull him down for their first kiss.  And oddly, given the circumstances anyway, it was everything a first kiss between two people who should have been lovers long ago and never were should be.  It was hesitant at first, lips questioning, tongues answering, but no more confidently, as they weren’t sure of the answer.  Neither were the teeth that soon joined in, but hands and cocks figured it out pretty fast as Angel grasped Wesley firmly and began to stroke hard and fast along with the motion of his own hard shaft inside Wes.

 

They both shouted and bucked and moaned and crashed over the edge, not sure who had made it there first, not caring as they took and gave their pleasure.

 

Coming down from his orgasmic high and not knowing quite what do to or say, Wesley settled for clearing his throat.

 

Angel chuckled and moved off to the side, giving Wes some breathing room.  “Wes, I…”  Angel began.

 

“Angel, don’t,” Wes instructed.  “I understand.  We understand each other now.  This... helped.”

 

Angel remained silent for a moment, thinking that Wes was right; it had helped.  Now they were free.  After several minutes he broke the silence.  “What now?” he asked quietly.

 

“Now I think we should get some sleep,” Wes answered.  “We’ll no doubt have a long day tomorrow, helping the helpless and all that.”  He held his breath, awaiting Angel’s reply, hoping he hadn’t overestimated his welcome, wanting more than anything to get back to work, with his friends.

 

Angel smiled, and rubbed his hand comfortingly over Wesley’s arm.  “Yeah, long day,” he answered.  “Get some sleep.”

 

And they did.

 

END