Wesley whimpered, his mouth slack in sleep. His spare, lean frame lay sprawled on Angel's black couch. His undead employer had taken Cordelia back to her apartment after leaving the home of the possessed child. Wesley had intended to snaffle a few bits of bread and fruit that the vampire kept on hand for his secretary before he left for his own...well, hovel would be putting it nicely.

After placing his borrowed booty in his knapsack, the dark-haired man had sat down for a moment to collect his wits. He had no desire to become demon dessert just because he wasn't entirely the Rogue Demon Hunter he usually was. Putting his head down on a pillow for a second, Wesley had soon fallen into a light, disturbed sleep.

And he dreamt the dreams of the innocent.

~~~~~

Stretching luxuriously amongst his lover's black silk bedding, the pale-skinned man yawned and scratched his head. Wesley swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing for his boxers with one hand. He stepped into them quickly and made his way into the party taking place outside Angel's bedroom.

"Lovely, Wesley, really lovely." Giles sneered as he eyed the other booted Watcher's partially clothed form. The former-librarian wore a battered leather jacket rather than his usual tweed jacket, complimenting the skin-tight leather pants and leather bike boots.

Wesley brushed past the man, his snide comment sinking and drowning in Wes' mind. The figures on the dance floor/Angel's living room floor twisted and writhed to the music. With some relief, he spied Cordelia standing at the edge of the room, swaying and smiling as she chatted with that Mr. Harris fellow. He rushed up to her with a happy smile on his face, only to be stopped by her companion's hand in his chest.

"Hey, buddy, I'm talkin' to the lady here." The man turned back to his companion, who giggled inanely at his words.

"Cordelia..."

"Wes, don't you know that you're not good enough to talk to me? Pathetic much? Why don't you go back to your hidey hole under the stairs? Isn't that where you belong, under the stairs? Where no one has to look at you, or listen to your whimpers?" As the chestnut-haired beauty spoke, the vicious words spitting out of her mouth like acid, her face morphed, from Cordelia Chase, to Buffy, to Faith, to Wes' own mother. Soon, Mary Wyndham-Pryce stood before her son, in her perfect silk day dress, tiny white dots on a perfect cerulean blue background.

"Mother, I..."

"Dear boy, can't you do anything right? Lord, you even managed to muck up being a Watcher, and you know what kind of dross they're taking these days. Your father and I expected you to be a dismal Watcher, but we certainly never expected you to lose not one but two slayers, and then to actually get the boot. Even for you, that's really quite impressive."

Mary's hand shot out to latch onto Wes' throat, squeezing the tender flesh there. He gasped, his hands flying up in an attempt to dislodge his mother's hands.

"Angelus, love, would you like a taste? He's not good for much of anything other than vampire snack food," she said derisively.

The vampire lounged behind Mary, leering at Wes' red, sweaty face. "Ohhhh...my my my, what a tasty treat." Clad in black leather and red silk, the preternatural being now circled the Englishman. His face morphed, the demon coming to the fore, as he licked his lips.

"Mmmm...I can smell his fear...and...what is that...oh yeah, I think your boy here has pissed his pants Mary Mary. What a bad boy..." Angelus' voice trailed off as he traced his prey's throat with one finger.

Wes tried to continue to struggle, to try to stop what was happening to him, but the lack of oxygen caused black spots to float across his vision. His hands flopped uselessly down to his sides. He watched in terror as the vampire Angelus, his sometime lover and boss, grabbed his head with one hand and tilted it for easy access to the neck.

Angelus nibbled on his dinner's ear, whispering, "Hey, Wes, remember -- everything you love turns against you eventually."

Wesley's body arched and a scream ripped out of his throat as Angelus simultaneously sank his fangs into the tender flesh at the mortal's jugular and rammed his cock into the other man's suddenly accessible anus.

~~~~~

"Wesley, are you okay?"

He gasped, turning his head away from the beautifully brown, concerned eyes of Angel. God, what a fool he was, to think that he could really have a relationship with someone like Angel, with anyone at all. The only person who wanted him was a dead man. What did that tell him? His hand ran tiredly over his face as disgust filled Wesley.

"Oh, yes, so sorry Angel, just paused for a moment before leaving...Cordelia is safely in her apartment?"

"Yeah, Wes, Cordelia's fine...but I don't think you are."

Wesley stood up and swung his knapsack onto his back. He spoke briskly to the vampire. "Really, Angel, I'm perfectly alright, I just fell asleep and now I must be leaving. After all, it's the early bird who gets the..."

He felt a cold, heavy hand on his shoulder as he stepped into the elevator. "Please Angel, just let me go."

"Wes, you know I'll never do that."

Angry tears welled in Wesley's eyes, and he blinked them away, trying to keep his composure. When Angel's hands slid the pack of his back and circled his waist, the battle to keep the sadness and childhood pain inside finished in favor of the simple need for comfort.

Wesley turned in his lover's arms and laid his head down on the vampire's broad shoulder. The two men stood there for a moment, swaying in the half-dark apartment.

"C'mon, let's go to bed." Angel took the Englishman by the hand and led him into the bedroom. The mortal stood mutely next to the bed, letting the other man remove his clothes as if he were a child. Angel gently stripped him down to his boxers and peeled the comforter and sheets back. After first laying him down, the vampire stripped off his own clothes quickly, joining Wesley under the covers. He spooned up to the taller man's back, kissing the nape of his neck.

"Sleep, love, we'll talk in the morning."

Wesley sniffled and moved his body backwards as much as possible, to get closer to his lover. Their hands and legs entwined, they drifted into sleep, safe for the moment in each other's embrace.