Title: Redefine

Author: Criss Moody

Date: November 8^th, 2000

Distribution: Archives of the lists that receive this only.

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Angel/Wesley

Summary: Angel’s tempted and he doesn’t resist.

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and pals own them. I just play with their…um…minds.

Feedback: luscious, yummy, yes please.

Thanks: to Random for the quick beta. All faults are mine.

Dedication: to my AngelSlash friends, namely Saone, Random, Joey, and Charles, for always worshiping me <g>.

Redefine, by c.moody.

Something about the smell of a musty, dust-ridden, dank old building always made Angel kinda horny. Kinky it may be, but the strange cause of sudden hard-ons remained. One good whiff of the pungent smell and Angel's cock knocked hard on the front of his button up jeans, hello, I'd like a little something to go please, hold the condiments, just give me the meat.

Long, hard, thin, thick, stubby, veined, smooth, any way, every way, Angel wanted cock. In his mouth, in his ass, more to the point,

just

in

him.

This recurring physical reaction made it A) hard to work in his new office building and B) even harder to work next to his earnest, bumbling researcher.

After so many weeks of working in the old hotel, Angel's senses had become mostly deadened to the heady, rank scent of old wood and plaster beginning to rot. What remained he'd trained himself to ignore, banishing the instantaneous response to where all of his other sexual urges went. To a dark, dark, cold place that he hoped would never see the warmth of his conscious mind again.

Wesley's scent remained.

Permeated with the redolent smell of ancient scrolls, old books, and the things that were just aged, the Englishman's flesh beckoned Angel. Leaning over Wesley's shoulder, trying his damndest to concentrate on an ancient prophecy, the vampire secretly reveled in the deep smell almost visibly rising off the nape of Wesley's sweetly bare neck. Such a small expanse of skin, ripe with blood, racing under the surface, carrying the patterns of musty passion with it.

Later, Angel would swear he'd only meant to tuck in the small, stiff tag poking out of Wesley's shirt.

Sighing, his body pressed lightly into Wesley's and he mouthed a open kiss onto the bare skin.

In a flash, both men froze. Angel could feel his partner's body still beneath his, and briefly the souled creature considered moving away, ignoring the moment, allowing his ever present guilt and search for redemption to tear him way from the first person to make him crave since Buffy.

Urges, ragingly dark, colored by repression and denied passion, shushed the lighter side of his being. Angel felt a calm sweep over him, wrought by his decision. To take this step would lead down a road he may not be strong enough to withstand.

But he did not care enough to turn away.

Angel whispered into Wesley's ear, his unneeded breath raising bumps along the sensitive skin inside the ear.

"You smell so good."

He delicately licked the outer ridge of the ear, shivering at the salty, fresh taste, such a strange companion to the ancient scent. His hands curved around Wesley's bony hips, resting in the pelvic cradle. The other man's head tilted, giving Angel better access to Wesley's ear. A glance away from his ridged treat revealed a parted mouth, a wet tongue flicking out to provide badly needed moisture.

Angel laved the curves and ridges of Wesley's ear, missing nothing, marking the entire flexible appendage with his own ancient scent. Tasted so luscious, such an appetizer, like sweet coconut soup before the spicy Chicken Curry. Angel moaned into the ear lobe as he laved it, nibbling on it, sucking it into his mouth repeatedly.

Wesley moaned, ending in a slight whine. A reserved grin crossed Angel's face, replaced all too quickly by his serious mask.

"Feel that? Like that? Oh, Wes, I'll make you feel so good." Angel brushed the back of his hand over the growing bulge pressing out of Wesley's gray slacks.

"Make you feel hot, itchy, crazy mad, make you feel so needful." He moaned, rocking his own erection into the begging crease between Wesley's buttocks.

"But you have to choose." The hand rose, plucking the black button down shirt out of the slacks, and running across the naked expanse of belly. A sharp intake of breath, and the hand slipped down further, past the barrier of leather belt and slacks. Angel rested there, his fingers just barely brushing the top of Wesley's pubic hair.

"Choose."

Without a word, Wesley balanced himself on one hand, gripping the edge of desk tightly, and undid his belt, slid it from the belt loops, and sent it crashing to the floor. His fingers fumbled in attempts to undo the top button, and Angel covered Wesley's shaking hand with his confident one. Together, they slid the cool metal zipper down, and gravity did the rest as the gray cloth barrier to Wesley's ass fell to the office floor.

Surprise, no underwear. Angel chuckled at the discovery, sending vibrations through Wesley's neck. He suckled at the pale juncture, tasting the new fear, underlying the old distrust. Always rely on Wes to supply unceasing loyalty…as long as he had a soul.

He latched onto Wesley's neck fiercely, using only his teeth, lips, and tongue to redden the area. Blood rushed to surface under his assault, and Angel licked the pebbled skin avidly, the nearness to so much lusty blood sending most of his borrowed blood rushing into his cock.

Angel's hands cradled Wesley's now freed cock. The moist, human heat rolled off of the pliable flesh there, heating Angel's dead flesh in a unique way. Delicious, just resting there, his palms praying with human cock providing the road to god, utterly delicious. He brushed a finger down one side, and Wesley gasped.

Ummm…yeah, this boy belonged to Angel. Lock, stock, and cock.

"Turn around." The face now looking slightly up at him registered mostly confusion, tinged by a fast fading edge of fear. Angel spared a smile for his partner, now prey, before sinking to his knees for the first time in more than a hundred years and sucking down the long, thin, cut length of Wesley's manhood.

A strangled shout and hands clenched in Angel's beloved locks sent a clear message of lust to the detective, who withdrew a bit, content to slurp at the tip of the cock. Lashing the underside of the head with his talented tongue, Angel kneaded the concave ass he would soon violate. He did not believe he would be the first; Wesley had attended all the bastions of English education where boys learned more than Latin and Greek.

A swift dip of his head down into the wiry nest of hair gracing Wesley’s genitalia and the ex-Watcher tensed as Angel greedily accepted the warm ribbons of come. Warm, human, and full of life; things he loved about Wesley.

He carefully cleaned his lover, methodically removing every dollop from every fold, crevice, and pore until he’d licked the area almost raw. Licking his lips, he caressed Wes’ shaking thighs on the way up. He dived into Wesley for a kiss, their bodies meeting, rubbing, their hands grasping at whatever flesh came into reach. He shed his pants quickly and kicked them behind him. Angel leaned Wesley over the desk, swiping any possibly harmful items, and pressing down on the mortal’s chest with one arm. With his other arm, he guided his lover’s legs up and onto the desk, firmly planting them just below and apart from the slim hips.

Reaching into the desk, Angel fished out a jar of Vaseline, kept there by Cordelia in case of dry mouth, and a condom, kept there by Gunn for reasons the handsome black man had refused to divulge. The condom slid on, and Angel crooked on heavily greased finger into Wesley’s tight, scorching passage. Moaning, and going very still for moment, Wes began to rock onto the finger, begging for more, more, just a bit more…another finger came home, rubbing in the grease, sending spasms of helpless pleasure through Wesley’s thin frame.

"Please…" Ah, words from the silent sufferer.

"Please?"

"Please, Angel….fuck me."

"Sounds good to hear you say it, Wes." Angel slid home, panting at the doubly erotic pain of the tight ribbed condom on his sensitive cock and the intense warmth spreading into Angel’s chilled body from Wesley. He held onto Wesley’s knees at first, slowly thrusting in, learning a rhythm that drove Wes to pant and push his ass into Angel’s thrusts.

Angel brushed his hand over Wes’ chest, flicking each tight brown nipple with a finger. He set a harder pace, bracing his hands on Wesley’s shoulder. He brutally rammed his thick cock into Wesley, delirious on the lust high. Tight, and hard, and gods, fuck, he was coming, into Wesley, into everything, the condom burst, opened into mortal warmth again, spilling himself on holy ground. He rode out the orgasm, again and again into Wesley, surely he had bruised Wesley’s pale buttocks, but he lacked the energy to care.

He carefully retreated, wincing as his cock slipped out. Without even looking at Wesley, Angel turned and sniffed the air.

Pure, raunchy, copper-tinged, wet sex.

Demon?

Check.

Soul?

Aye, aye, sir.

Angel strolled towards the stairs. He looked back and saw Wesley try to sit up, only to fall back against the desk.

"Stay there." Angel heard Wesley’s heart skip beat. "I’m gonna see if Gunn wants to play."

Angel’s eerily cheerful voice echoed down to the lobby.

"Time to redefine that ‘moment of perfect happiness’ crap."