A Funny Thing by Criss Moody

Spoilers: Itsy bitsy one for S3 of BtVS episode, "Lover's Walk," and for the previous stories in this series.

Rating: PG

Pairing: Angel/Wesley

Content Warning: Angst, it's gettin' broody in here.

Summary: Angel tries to explain love to Wesley; sequel to my story, "Nothing to Fear."

Disclaimer: Mr. Whedon and cohorts created the characters and concept, I'm just doing what my muses force me to do.

Notes: Sorry for the uberangst, there'll be smut soon. If you haven't been following this series, this story probably won't make much sense to you.

A Funny Thing, by c.moody.

"I'll call later, after my audition, 'kay?" Cordelia finished putting her jacket on, then buttoned it up.

Angel shifted back and forth on his bare feet, his head lowered to avoid meeting Cordelia's observant gaze. After he'd witnessed Wesley's breakdown the night before, he had retreated into his bedroom to think about how to deal with Wesley's fears. He wasn't sure he would have been able to deal with his lover's terror of the night before. Just listening to it made the demon gleeful, and the feel of that adrenaline rush bashing into his soul scared Angel. It scared him so much he wasn't sure he could face Wesley, afraid that he'd do something or say something to hurt the Englishman even more.

"Angel, just be gentle, and love him. That's what he needs right now." His secretary's answer seemed to answer his fears perfectly, and a small smile appeared on the vampire's face.

"But, remember, I so don't need the details on 'how' you love him, 'kay? Some things are just not meant to be shared."

Angel raised his head and looked into Cordelia's warm brown eyes. A look of understanding and agreement flashed between them. They made an unspoken pact to keep Wesley safe from his own inner demons; after all, family was really hard to come by.

The undead pseudo-detective watched the elevator disappear up the shaft before he turned away. Back to the bedroom or into the kitchen to make...dinner, probably, it was around 6 P.M. A strangled whimper from his bedroom made up Angel's mind. Before Cordy had left, he'd moved his lover into his bed, because to Angel's way of thinking, that was where he belonged. Amazingly, the mortal man had slept through Cordelia's waking up, her shower, her complaints about lack of her favorite shampoo, and his own shift from slightly lumpy couch to the very best mattress money could buy.

Wesley whimpered amongst the rumpled bedding as the vampire watched. His lean, pale chest was exposed to his lover's gaze and his long limbs moved restlessly. His body struggled against an invisible enemy, hips thrusting up as if dislodge something or someone, arms moving up and down, legs thrashing. Angel stripped his silk pajama bottoms off, joining Wesley on the bed.

The minute his cold, nude flesh made contact with Wesley's mortally warm flesh, the Englishman's eyes flew wide open and his mouth lay open, his entire body frozen with fear.

"Wesley? WESLEY??!!" No effect, the other man remained locked in position, eyes unseeing.

Slap! Wesley gasped as the slap from Angel brought a rose-colored bloom to his cheek. Disoriented at first, Wesley scooted backwards on the bed when he caught sight of Angel's concerned face looming over his.

"Wes, I think you were having another nightmare."

"Another? Whatever would make you think I'd had any nightmares at all?" The mortal man snapped, turning his face towards the end of the bed to evade liquid brown eyes.

"Wes, I talked to Cordelia and…"

"Well, that aside, you had no right to...to..." He bit off the words as tears threatened to erupt.

Cold fingers touched a grief-warmed cheek, smoothing away the tears that had escaped. Angel gazed at Wesley's profile. At first, it appeared strong and sure, but as he continued to drink in the sight of this man, he observed that the chin wobbled.

"Look, Wes, in a dream world, where we're two perfectly normal men with perfectly normal lives, where I don't have a demon inside me that has one hell of a possessive streak, yeah, I don't have a right. But not only are you my lover, i.e. we have had carnal knowledge of each other's bodies more than once, you are my friend, and my partner. If Cordelia started wearing jeans and tee-shirts to work, I'd be just as worried, 'kay?"

Wesley dragged a ragged breath into his lungs, expelling it as he gently laid himself back down on the bed, and turned his head to face Angel. The vampire watched the emotions slam around his lover's face, making muscles clench and eyes widen. He was pretty sure the other man wanted to ask him something, and as Wes' body became more and more rigid, Angel feared that he wasn't going to like it.

"May I...May I make love to you?"

Ok, so he was wrong. Apparently, his surprise showed on his craggy face, because the mortal beside him rushed to qualify his request.

"Well, not love surely, after all, you do love Ms. Summers, and not me, and..."

Gentle, cool lips met living flesh in a sweet, short kiss. If nothing else, it shut Wes up. "Wesley, you're right." The Englishman's weary face drooped even more. "I do love Buffy. But she and I both know that our love hurts too much to live with. We will love each other until the day we die, being apart can't change that, but it just...it just hurts us both, and everyone else around us, too much to be 'together' in any traditional sense. Someone once told me that love's a funny thing, and he was right. Love isn't exclusive, love isn't about ownership. It may not beat, but my heart has a lot of room, for a lot of people. I mean, look at Cordelia. If I have a place for her in my heart, you have to believe there's a place for you."

His mortal's face had calmed as he spoke, and Angel began to stroke his arm while he waited for Wes to process the information he had just received. He settled next to Wesley, propped his head up with a hand, and luxuriated in the silky warmth of his lover's arm. His fingers trailed up the inside of Wes' upper arm, then traced the pronounced collarbone, fascinated with the protrusion there for some reason.

A warm hand stilled the movements of his cold one. The vampire raised his gaze from the intriguing collarbone to the face above it. Wesley's eyes roamed over his face, seemingly cataloguing the parts that make up the man, before settling on the warm brown eyes.

"Though I greatly desire closer...carnal knowledge of your body, in particular something that I instigate, an equalization of our roles if you will, I fear that I am completely knackered at the moment, and need nothing more than sleep." Wes hesitated before rushing the next sentence out. "Would it be alright if I stayed here, with you?"

Angel grinned, and laid down on his back, gesturing for Wesley to join him on his side of the bed. The mortal man slowly shifted his position on the bed, putting his head on Angel's broad chest.

Angel kissed his lover's head as he whispered, "Wes?"

"Yes, Angel?"

"You talk too much."

Both men closed their eyes and wallowed in the sweetness of flesh on flesh, content for the moment to just exist.