a.connor  a.doyle  a.lindsey  a.oz  a.spike  a.wesley  a.xander  a.other  three.somes  het.fic  character.study           
Title: Bloodlust (Five ways Angel and Wesley Never Got Together)
Author: inyron
Pairing: Angel/Wesley
 Rating: R
Setting: Right after "Deep Down"


Angel was tired.

It was kind of funny, actually, so much time spent in that box, with nothing to do but dream, and all he felt like doing was going back to sleep.

Fred came over to him with another cup of recently unfrozen pig’s blood and the same anxious expression she’d been wearing for the hour since he’d come back and kicked Conner out. Fred looked... wonderful. Angel just wanted to touch her and make sure she was real, wasn’t going to dissolve into a watery mist.

"...only been able to get in touch with him twice, but he sounds like he’s doing okay, they must love him there, you know Vegas- well even if you don’t know Vegas, you know what I mean, I mean, I’ve never been to Vegas, but I’ve heard all about it, and I’m sure he’s fitting right..."

Fred had also been talking pretty much nonstop. Angel found it hard to concentrate on anything, but felt the need to at least try. He’d been gone for months, who knew what could have happened? Nothing too important, from what he could gather from Fred.

"...down on 27th street, but Charles took care of it right away, and it wasn’t hard, at least, the killin’ wasn’t but boy, we still haven’t been able to get the slime out of his favorite..."

Unfortunately, especially with the speed Fred could get words out, it hadn’t taken that much time to tell him everything they knew about Cordelia’s disappearance. Angel felt he shouldn’t be just sitting here while she was out there somewhere, lost, but even if they had the beginnings of a lead, he was in no position to do anything but fall over. He took another gulp of the blood. It didn’t help any. He still didn’t feel any stronger, and as much pig’s blood as he’d drunk in the last hour, it didn’t diminish the memory of human blood at his lips. Fred was still in front of him, looking worried and fresh and crazed and so happy to see him. He closed his eyes.

"Angel? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he replied, before she came over to check on him. "I just think I need to turn in for the night. It’s been a long day."

Fred nodded, and gave a little smile. "We’re just glad you’re back."

"Yeah, man," Gunn agreed.

"And you have to promise to still be there in the morning."

"I will." He picked up his glass and went over to the counter, watching as Fred and Gunn started to make their way upstairs.

Fred turned around and stopped suddenly, as if she was remembering something. Her face colored red slightly. "Charles lives here now. I mean, we had to give up his apartment. Money’s been kind of tight, and we..." Fred looked like she wanted to say something else, but stopped herself.

Gunn took her by the shoulder. "I’m sure Angel understands. We can talk about things in the morning." He gave Angel a tight smile, and Angel waved them off, suddenly wanting another glass before bed.

It was going to be a long night.

*****
Wesley pulled up to the Hyperion, and paused for a minute before turning the car off and addressing Angel. "Are you ready to go in?"

"No."

"What can I do?" Wesley gave him an intense look.

"Blood... human blood. Need more. Not going to make it, Wesley..."

"But you know what’s going to happen." Wesley told him. "If I give you any more, I’ll die."

"I’ll die without it."

"I know," Wesley said. He held up his arm, which had become unbandaged. Blood started to seep out of the wound.

"I’ll die without it," Angel said, and realized it was true. He was going to die if he couldn’t feed. He could feel it starting to happen.

"I’d give my life for yours." Wesley finally spoke as Angel felt he couldn’t hold himself back any more. "I told you that."

"When did you tell me that?" Angel asked him, staring at the blood that was dripping slowly onto the seat.

"Every day."

"Oh." It made sense. He seemed to remember something like that. "But I can’t do that. I’m a champion, Wesley. We don’t take other people’s lives." Wesley’s arm had become a fountain now, and it seemed to paint the world red.

"You can take mine- I owe it to you. My life is yours, Angel. How else can I properly make things up to you? Prove to you that I'm sorry?"

Angel smiled at him and leaned over to drink. God, it was so perfect. This was the way it ought to be. Wesley’s eyes were closed now, and would probably never open again, but it didn’t matter, because his blood was still warm, still pumping, and Angel had this one minute, where his friend had given up his life, and given him blood. Blood? Blood everywhere. Why was there blood everywhere?

Then he remembered.

*****

He needed to find Wesley. Fred and Gunn were behind him somewhere, but with his speed, it would take time for them to catch up, and he needed to find Wesley before they did. He just had to follow the scent. Wesley’s blood was everywhere. He could find him, he just had to follow- there. Follow that scent of fear, of horror and impending death.

There.

Wesley lay before him, his neck bleeding profusely and a helpless look in his eyes. Angel leaned close and gave him a predator’s smile. "You think you can take my son? You think you can take what’s mine, and get away with it?" Wesley flinched away from him. Angel switched to game face and lowered his face towards Wesley’s neck. "I’m going to enjoy draining every drop of blood from your body." And oh, how much sweeter he smelled now, pain and more fear than before he was found. Grasping for the first weapon available to him, the stake in his shirt, he ripped it out, and, in a fluid motion, drove it through Wesley’s shoulder and into the ground below. Wesley tried to cry out, but could only make a raspy, gurgly sound. Blood began seeping from his lips.

Fred and Gunn were still in the distance; they would catch up soon, racing along against the break of dawn that also threatened to cut this short. But there was still one more thing, one more thing which had to be done. Wesley moved his mouth trying to get words out, and Angel knew that it would be worth it, no matter which of the racers caught him first. He leaned over and pressed his face against Wesley’s neck, reveling in the feel of the blood and cut flesh, rolled his tongue around to get as much of the taste as possible, then sunk his teeth into the neck, ready to drain him dry.

But he had waited too long, and there was no blood left.

****

Angel tore the room apart, but all he could find were empty containers. He didn’t even notice when Wesley entered.

"Angel, what’s wrong?"

"What happened to all the blood?" He knocked a stack of books off the counter in disgust.

Wesley pursed his lips and made a move to pick them up. "Didn’t you remember to pick some up from your usual supplier?"

"Of course! I mean... I think so. I don’t really remember."

"Well, we should have some extra around here."

"Wes, you know I can’t do that." Angel gave Wesley a look-over. It was strange- he looked kind of appetizing today, moreso than normal.

Wesley blinked. "What?"

"You know I try to avoid human blood," Angel explained. He came a little closer.

"What? Angel, I mean the extra supply you keep in the freezer." Wesley looked a little embarrassed. Angel felt stupid.

"Oh- right. Forgot about that." Angel tried to tear his gaze away from his boss.

"I mean," Wesley was saying, "if it was an emergency, of course, you know I’d help. But there should be plenty of blood in the freezer. Or out there." He pointed outside, where the streets were awash in blood, running along it like a river.

Angel felt even more stupid now, all that blood outside, and he couldn’t find any until someone else pointed it out. "I guess I could have some of that." He couldn’t help himself from adding, "I’d rather have yours, though."

Wesley didn’t look frightened like Angel had feared, instead he looked rather pleased. "Really? Mine?"

"Well, sure." Angel smiled, glad that they had an understanding. "I’d rather have yours than anybody’s."

"Anybody’s?"

"That’s what I said." He was within an arm’s reach now.

"Fred’s? Gunn’s? Cordelia’s?"

"Yours, Wesley. It’s the only one thick enough." He almost slipped into game face. Wesley smiled beatifically and raised his chin a little, showing off his neck. Angel leaned towards him, and ran his tongue along Wesley’s neck without baring his fangs. Instead, he made a move towards Wesley’s mouth...

But was stopped abruptly by the shocked look in Wesley’s eyes.

****

The shock changed quickly to embarrassment. A look that said, "Please get off me now." Angel was a bit surprised to realize he and Wesley were on the floor, and his hand was clutched around Wesley’s neck. Also, he was naked. He let go abruptly. "Sorry about that."

"Quite all right," Wesley assured him, clawing out from under him and rising to his feet. "Shouldn’t have bothered you."

"Yeah." Angel looked around for his pants, but couldn’t find them anywhere. The sheets from his bed were gone too. He went to the bathroom to look for a towel.
"I suppose you were dreaming about Darla again," Wesley called after him.

Angel wrapped the towel around him and thought. Was Wesley supposed to know about Darla yet? Maybe it didn’t matter. "Why do you say that?"

"You certainly seemed excited."

Oh. "Darla isn’t the only one who... excites me, Wesley," Angel told him, uncomfortable with this conversation. Wasn’t he supposed to be doing something right now? Rescuing... someone.

"Maybe not," Wes allowed. "But you have to admit, you and Darla share a special bond."

That’s right, Darla had some special magic. She was infecting his dreams.

"She was your Sire," Wesley continued. "She drank your blood, and you drank hers."

Angel remembered. "It tasted wonderful."

"And now you’re connected."

"That’s right." Angel looked at Wesley. "But yours tasted just as good."

"Don’t you remember, Angel? You haven’t drunk from me yet." Oh. That was right.

"I will, though. I remember. I remember how this all turns out."

"And how does it turn out?"

Angel remembered, and was ashamed. "I made you go away. I was so obsessed with her..."

Wes sat on the bed. "It doesn’t have to turn out that way, Angel. You don’t have to push me away this time."

"But how do I change things?" Angel was getting agitated now. There was something else, something he was forgetting. Something after Darla, something bad.

"You just have to do it, Angel. Just don’t push me away, and I’ll still be here."

Angel sat on the bed next to him. "Is it really that simple?"

"Yes." Wesley brought his hands up and ran them down Angel’s chest. Angel shuddered in response. "You can change things. Just drink my blood. Drink my blood, and then I’ll drink yours, and we’ll be connected." Wesley caught his mouth in a kiss, a promise of forever. Angel couldn’t think of a single reason to resist. At least, not until he caught sight of the bruises on Wesley’s face.

****

Angel reached up his hand to cup Wes’ face, and get a better view of the damage.

"It’s really not that bad," Wesley insisted. "I’m doing much better than Cordelia." Angel realized they were on Cordelia’s bed, then felt funny for forgetting that they had moved the base of operations here after the explosion. Wesley smiled at him to show that he was really all right, and his look was so genuine, Angel believed it. He smiled back, widely, and gave a little laugh. "What’s so funny?" Wesley asked him.

"Everything. Everything’s funny." Angel suddenly realized that everything was going to turn out all right. "And beautiful." He flopped back on the bed. Wesley joined him.
"I’m so tired, I should go back to my own apartment."

"No, stay," Angel told him. "You should be here. You have to, if everything’s going to be perfect."

"Perfect?" Wesley made himself comfortable with Cordelia’s pillow.

"Yeah- don’t you see? You’re here, and Cordelia’s here, and we’re making so much progress. Helping so many people. And maybe it won’t be that long until- until I’m forgiven."
"Your Shanshu." Wesley made the word sound so beautiful.

"Yeah." Angel couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. "It’s so wonderful. All of it."

"We did rather kick the Fringhai’s arse... or, arses, actually... well, we made short work of it yesterday."

"We did." Angel remembered. "But I’m not just talking about that. I mean... Here. This. Watching the Olympics on TV, arguing over who has to clean the weapons, getting scolded by Cordelia for leaving crumbs... everything."

"This is your idea of perfect?" Wesley laughed.

"Yeah," Angel replied. "It’s wonderful. I never thought... I never knew-"

"What it was like to be around people who love you?" Wesley finished quietly. "I understand what you mean."

Angel started to run his fingers up and down Wesley’s back. "People who love me." Angel repeated. "Buffy loved me, I know, but it wasn’t quite like this."

"You were in love with Buffy. It’s different."

That was right. Angel remembered being in love with Buffy, how happy it had made him, even with the rest of his life so bad. So different than his life was now. He let his hand drift lower. "It was different." His mood was not so high now, but as he looked across Cordelia’s room, he managed to regain some of his previous cheer- he had gotten over Buffy, after all, and now he was fine. And even though it was one without her, he had a future- a million tomorrows to look forward to, and the hope that they would see changes in his life. Or maybe- and wasn’t this just as good? Maybe things would stay the same. Wesley rolled over, and looked up at him, eyes shining. "What?" Angel asked.

"Ask me again." Wesley told him.

Angel laughed and climbed on top of him. "What is it?" He snatched Wesley’s hands and held them up against the headboard. Wesley was laughing now too, laughing and gasping until Angel bent down and kissed him. The Wesley was kissing back, his now-freed hands roaming all over Angel’s body. It felt so good. Angel wondered when he had acquired a shirt and pants, and struggled to take them off. Wesley was doing the same, frantically ripping, and spinning buttons everywhere, and wouldn’t Cordelia lecture them for that later.

"Angel..." Wesley moaned.

"Tell me."

"I’m yours, Angel. I’m your faithful servant." Wesley leaned down and took Angel into his mouth. He was still groaning against his cock, and Angel imagined him still repeating the words, over and over. He took Wesley’s head in his hands, and stroked his hair gently, lovingly. Wesley was still working his cock with seemingly nothing but enthusiasm, and the desire to please him, and Angel couldn’t imagine any other way being better. He stretched back, and let himself come into Wes’ mouth, so willing. Wesley sucked him dry, and leaned back gasping. He was hard now, and Angel reached out to stroke him. Wesley moaned against his touch.

"Come on." Angel told him, and they climbed back on the bed. He continued stroking Wesley.

"Are you going to fuck me?" Wesley asked, still breathless.

"It depends," Angel told him. "Did you tell me everything you were going to?"

"No." Wesley smiled coquettishly.

"Well? You’re going to have to tell me first." Angel gave an extra hard stroke, and Wes was rendered speechless for a moment.

Finally he regained himself, and his eyes were shining again, so bright, so full of love and trust. "I’m yours, Angel. I’m your faithful servant. My life is yours, and I- I’d die for you in an instant, if that’s what you wanted. I’d die for you."

"Oh," said Angel. He stopped stroking.

"What’s wrong?" Wesley asked. "Did I say something that wasn’t right?"

"No," Angel told him, "you said the right words, it’s just... I had forgotten."

"What did you forget?" Wesley sounded concerned now.

"I had forgotten how all this ended. I’m sorry, Wesley." He morphed into game face.

Wesley looked confused, rather than frightened. "How does it end?"

"I drink from you."

"Angel, that’s not a problem. Didn’t I just say I’d give my life for yours?"

"You don’t understand. I’m not Angel. I’m- Angelus."

"Don’t be silly. I know who you are."

"I’m going to have to drink from you. I’m going to have to kill you. You don’t understand. I can’t help myself."

"If that’s what you want, Angel." Wes was sounding a little impatient now.

"Not Angel." He muttered. "I don’t deserve to be. Don’t you understand? This is all a lie." He gestured around Cordelia’s bedroom, which looked darker, and water-colored now. "I don’t deserve to be happy. I’m not meant to be."

"Everyone deserves happiness, Angel. Especially you, after all you’ve been through-"

"It’s not enough. It’s never going to be. I’m never going to be forgiven, Wesley, why should I?"

"But the Shanshu-"

"The Shanshu- Wesley, if I’m granted this reward when I earn it? It’s going to be at the end of time, because it’ll take that long before I come close. And all this- all this was a lie. A house of cards that’s going to come crashing down and you- you won’t be here."

"I’ll always be here, Angel."

"You won’t." Angel told him. "Don’t you see? This is the part where I kill you."

"Why?"

"Because you made me happy- you made me believe." Angel switched to game face. "I’m sorry."

"For what?" Wesley asked. "I told you, I don’t mind. I only wish I could-" With fangs sinking in his throat, Angel made him stop talking.

He drank deep and long, sucking and sucking until there wasn’t any left- there couldn’t be, after all, he was still trying but getting no satisfaction. He looked down at Wesley’s lifeless body and tried to remember what he had said. Something like "If you want to do something, just do it." And if he wanted things to turn out a certain way...

He wondered suddenly why he and Wesley were having sex. It didn’t feel like they were having sex, and it certainly didn’t look like it. But if he tilted his head, and listened really hard, it certainly sounded like it.

****

Angel came back to himself with a start, and sat up abruptly in bed, just in time to catch the grand finale from down the hall. His first thought was to wonder how hard it would be to switch rooms.

As for his second thought...

He got out of bed, unwilling to risk any more dreams tonight. He considered getting more blood, but realized he wanted it too much. He sat in the chair in the corner and stared at the wall, trying to convince himself that, in spite of the pain, and the mesmerizing horrificness of the endless wallpaper, he was safe, and sane. He was not still under the ocean, he was not still trapped in a box. As soon as morning broke outside, as soon as Fred and Gunn awoke, as soon as many hours were placed between Angel and this moment, he would be safe.

But first he had to deal with this night, and every long moment it would bring.

-End

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