a.connor  a.doyle  a.lindsey  a.oz  a.spike  a.wesley  a.xander  a.other  three.somes  het.fic  character.study           
Title: Home
Author: The Brat Queen
 Pairing: Angel/Wesley
Rating: NC-17
Setting: Part of a series, found here that goes AU after 'Epiphany.' Can be read as a stand-alone.


Warm.  The bed was warm.  Angel could feel the heat radiating
off of Wesley's body as he lay beside him.  With his hand he
traced the patterns of it in the air, feeling the ebb and flow of the
temperatures against his skin - hot, just beside Wes's body,
warm about three inches higher, fading into cool as it mixed with
the air of the room.

Wes turned onto his side, burrowing into the pillow.  Angel
could hear his heart beating, soft and muffled under the blankets.

"Hmm," Wesley sighed, and Angel smiled.  He shifted his
weight, keeping his eyes on Wes's face.  It was relaxed.
Content.  Maybe even happy.

"Love you," he whispered. Wes stirred, but didn't respond.  His
breathing was soft, regular. He was still asleep.

"Love you," he said again.  With the lightest touch he ran his
fingers over Wes's hair, caressing the curls that were faintly
visible now that he'd let it grow a bit.  When that didn't wake
him, Angel continued his touch, feeling the bones and sinews of
his shoulder, moving up and down over the muscles of his arm,
then lower still, under the blankets, to the smoothness of
Wesley's thigh.

Again Wes stirred, but his eyes stayed closed.  Angel took a
chance and caressed his lover's cock.  That made Wes move his
hips, but otherwise he stayed still.  Encouraged, Angel touched
him again, then again, brushing his fingers up and down the shaft
until he felt it respond.

"Hmm," Wesley moved closer into Angel's touch.  His heart
sped up a little, increasing the flow of blood to his body.  Angel
could feel it pumping under his hand.  Wes's cock felt wonderful
to him.  Hard, and perfect.

"Love you."  He changed position, briefly cupping Wes's balls
before wrapping his hand around the base of his cock properly.
He wished he had body heat of his own to tease Wesley with,
but the only warmth he possessed was stolen from Wes himself.
So he was left only with touch, which he used in gentle,
moderate strokes as he brought Wes to full erection.

"Hmm… yes…." Wesley murmured.  His eyes fluttered.

"Dreamin' about me?" Angel asked, keeping his voice soft.

"No," Wesley drawled. "I'm fantasizing about the other vampire
I have sex with.  I'm telling him to be quick before my prat of a
boyfriend comes home."

"Simple 'no' would've done it."

Wesley turned to kiss him, nuzzling his cheek. "Perhaps. But I'd
much rather say yes."

Angel smiled at him crookedly. "I like yes."

"I like you," Wes replied.  "But you may wish to hurry or else
Spike will be cross."

"Shut. The fuck. Up."

Wesley laughed. "Good morning to you as well."

Angel stopped his hand. "You want me to go take a shower? Is
that it? 'Cause I could leave."

Wesley placed his hand over Angel's, guiding it up and down.
"Please don't."

It was hard to say no to an offer like that.  "Well… okay.  But
only 'cause I've got a thing for you."

"I've a thing for you too," Wesley said. He let go of Angel's
hand, reaching behind him to rub Angel's cock. "Perhaps we
could have one for each other?"

Angel hummed as he felt his body respond.  "I - I was just
gonna do you, Wes."

Wesley turned around again so that they faced each other.  "And
I appreciate your generosity.  But I find it's impossible to feel
wholly enjoyable unless I'm pleasuring you as well."

Angel looked at him. "How the fuck are you this coherent first
thing in the morning?"

"Shut up and kiss me. Wanker."

***

"Cordelia, no."

"I think it would be festive!"

"*No.*"

Cordy stuck her tongue out at Wesley. "Fine, Mr. Whatever
The British Version Of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas Is.  Be
that way."

"Scrooge," Angel said, then faltered when they all looked at him.
"Um - you know? Dickens?"

"True," Wesley agreed. "But not entirely apt.  For while Scrooge
was British, he did eventually end up *providing* a wonderful
Christmas for everyone, rather than stealing it.  And furthermore
-"

"So did the Grinch," Gunn said.

"And furthermore," Wes continued, "he did *not* do it by
playing instrumental Christmas music for an entire month at the
offices of Scrooge and Marley."

"He would if he'd had a CD player," Cordy said.  "I mean, sure,
if you've got to hire one of those Salvation Army brass bands to
do it it's a little expensive *and* crowded, but if all you need is a
*tiny* piece of equipment and - "

"Let it go, Cordy," Gunn said, not even looking up from his
Gameboy.  "English is right.  'Cause if I hear The Little Drummer
Boy more than once in a day, I am not gonna be responsible for
my actions."

"I think it would be pretty," Angel said.

"And yet the *mortal* guys with souls don't," Cordy replied.
"What does that tell us?"

"That Angel has no taste in music," Gunn said.

"I would have thought that was patently obvious," Wesley added.

"Thanks," Angel said. "Thanks a lot."

"Yeah, well," Cordy sat down at her desk, making a show of not
looking at either Gunn or Wesley, "keep that up and you'll be
eating nothing but breadcrumbs this Thursday."

"We still doing that?" Gunn asked.

"Cordelia," Wesley said, "you really don't have to go to all this
fuss and bother."

"It's Thanksgiving!" Cordy said. "People fuss! People bother!
Why shouldn't we?"

"For starters," Gunn said, "Angel ain't people."

"Do we have to keep picking on me?" Angel asked.

"And British chaps who remind you of Dr. Seuss poems don't
tend to celebrate Colonial holidays," Wes pointed out.  "You'll
recall that from last year?"

"I know, I know," Cordy waved this off. "But - come on!
We've had a good year.  We're still in business, nobody got
fired, Angel hasn't gone off and locked a bunch of people in a
cellar to die a horrible, agonizing death - why not have turkey?"

"I think it would be fun," Angel said.  He looked at Wesley. "The
turkey, I mean. I - I think we should do it."

"Of course," Wesley said. "I'm not saying we shouldn't have our
weekly gathering, I only mean to suggest that Cordy doesn't
have to make such an effort.  We could order take away, for
example."

"Who's making an effort?" Cordy asked. "I'm throwing a bird in
the oven. You guys are bringing the side dishes."

"Oh," Wesley said.

"I call sweet potatoes," Gunn said.

"Will cranberries and corn be alright?" Wes asked.

"I can make pie," Angel said. They all stared at him. "Well I
*can*."

"See how easy that was?" Cordy asked.  "Dinner's at my place
at 5.  Bring wine."

***

"God, Angel - " Wesley moaned as Angel plunged deep inside
of him.  "Yes, please."

The room was filled with the sound of Wes's shuddering breaths
as their bodies came together.  Angel kissed him savagely,
forcing himself to slow down, to draw out each thrust as much
as possible.  "Love you. Love you so much, Wes."

Wesley groaned, writhing beneath him. "Bastard. Absolute -
total -"

"Funny way to sweet talk a guy."

Wesley clutched at the sheets, moving as best he could to get
Angel inside of him. "Torment me and I'll talk as I like." He
gasped as Angel hit a sweet spot. "God - please…"

Angel relented, feeling the throb of his own need.  He sped up,
watching the emotions play across Wes's face.  "Sexy.
Incredible - "

"- love you - "

"- amazing - "

"- Angel, darling - "

"- *need* you - "

"- perfect - "

"- want you - "

"- absolutely - "

"- Wesley - "

"*Angel!*" Wes shuddered as he came. Angel covered his
mouth in another kiss, fucking him until his body quieted.  Finally
he looked up at smiled at him.  "Now is your turn, I believe."

"Well, if you insist," Angel said, rolling over at once and letting
Wes take control.

***

"People've been waiting five hours on line for *that*?" Gunn
asked as the four of them left the movie theater.

Cordelia looked at him. "You didn't like it?"

Gunn remained stoic for a moment, then relented. "Actually -
yeah it was pretty cool. But don't tell anybody."

"It reminded me of my days with the Council," Wes said, fondly.

"You had teachers that turned into cats?" Cordy asked.

"Well, no," Wesley said. "But the magic, the *research* - good
times, I can assure you."

"All that money spent on FX and English notices the books,"
Gunn said, shaking his head.  "Only you, man."

"I liked it," Angel said.  He met Wesley's eyes. "Even the books."

Wes smiled at him.

"I don't know," Cordy said, "you spend a few years on the
Hellmouth and three headed dogs don't throw you as much as
they used to."

"Well, yeah, we've faced worse than they did," Gunn said.  "But
lemme give you one word - "

"Quidditch," Angel said.

"Quidditch," Gunn agreed.

"It was exhilarating," Wesley said.  "It's a shame we can't have
that sort of thing in the real world."

"Why not?" Angel asked.  "Be kinda cool with the flying and
everything.  Better than basketball."

"I did *not* hear you say that," Gunn said.

"I'm just saying," Angel held up his hands innocently.  "Flying's
cool."

"So, no guys in robes and broomsticks with the Watcher's
Council?" Cordy asked.

"Well, yes," Wesley said. "But they tended to be involved in
animal sacrifice more than sport. Although there was that one
year - "

"Already too much information," Cordy said.

"They were fired," Wesley said, as though it might help.

Angel frowned. "Eavakia worshippers?"

"Those are the ones," Wesley said.  "They tried to get me to join
but I told them it was against my religion."

"Church of England?" Gunn asked.

"That," Wesley said, "and a strong desire to worship *any* deity
which fails to demand a piece of my - er - never mind."

"Suddenly Judaism isn't looking so bad," Cordy said.

"Actually," Angel said, "It's a piece of - "

"Again, really, enough," Cordelia said.

"We still meeting at your place tomorrow?" Gunn asked.

Cordy flashed him a grateful look. "Yep. Be there or face the
wrath of my leftovers."

"Have you ever cooked a turkey before?" Wesley asked.

"Nah," Cordy said. "But how hard can it be?"

They were all quiet for a moment.

"I'll come over early to help," Angel said.

"I'll drive," Wesley offered.

***

Angel fell back against the wall. He wondered if he should take
his shirt off but then Wes's mouth gave a little pulse of suction
and every idea he'd ever had went right out of his head.

"Oh man. You've gotten *really* good at this, Wesley," he said.
He tangled a hand in Wes's hair, thrusting his hips forward. He
couldn't take his eyes off of the sight of the younger man on his
knees.

Wes's tongue fluttered along the underside of Angel's cock. He
sighed, breathing warm air over Angel's crotch.

Angel growled. "*Really* fucking good at this."

There was the faintest scrape of teeth, and Angel groaned.  He
wanted it rougher, harder, and somehow Wesley knew it.  He
increased the pressure, manipulating Angel's balls with one hand
as he braced himself with another.

Angel tried to hold back, but willpower wasn't easy when Wes
was in the room.  He managed it for only a second before he
started moving, fucking Wes's mouth properly.  Wes followed
along, his head bobbing as his lips and tongue continued to work.

"Yeah, Wes, just like that."

There was a tug, then a pull from Wesley's hand.  Angel fought
the urge to close his eyes as Wes's mouth became warmer, and
wetter, taking him in a little more with each breath.

"God you feel good."

Wesley swallowed, took a deep breath, then moved forward,
deep throating Angel slowly but easily.

"Fuck - yeah, Wes. Make me come."

Wesley moaned in pleasure. The vibrations sang through Angel's
entire body.

"Or - you know - just do *that* a lot."

There was a small gasp as Wes fought off a burst of laughter.
He gave Angel's balls an extra hard squeeze of protest, then
continued sucking him off properly.  Angel closed his eyes at
last, resting his head against the wall and moaning in the way he
knew that Wesley liked.  He reminded himself to tell Wes that
*anything* painful wasn't exactly a turn off for a vampire.  But
then Wesley squeezed him again and Angel realized that he got it
the first time.

"*Fuck* I love you."

Wes stayed silent until Angel came.

***

"Angel, come here and change the vacuum bag."

Angel choked on the piece of carrot he was trying to eat. "You
want me to do what?"

Cordy held up her vacuum cleaner. "Come here and change the
bag."

Angel looked at Wesley and Gunn, who were deep in a game of
checkers. "Why me? Why can't you do it?"

"Because I sucked up a bug," she explained, dumping the
machine in front of him. "And the last thing I want to do is crack
this open and look at something which may or may not have a
head."

"So?" he asked. "What's the big deal about a bug? You've faced
demons."

"Yes," Cordy said, "but most demons don't have a billion legs."

"Actually, insects possess only six," Wesley said, moving one of
his pieces. "Of course spiders and millipedes -"

"Whatever," Cordelia replied. "If it's more than four I don't want
it in my house."

Angel tried to figure out how to open the device. "Why do I get
picked to do this?"

"Burden of being a hero, bro," Gunn said. "Need my axe?"

"Yeah, to get inside this thing," Angel said.

Cordy sighed. "You big baby." She bent down and pressed a
button Angel couldn't see, popping the case open. "There.  I'm
going to check on the bird. Should be about another hour."

"That long?" Wesley asked.

"It's a twenty five pound bird, guys," Cordy said. "It's not going
to get cooked in a minute."

"You know in my day we'd just toss something like that on the
fire," Angel said, struggling with the bag. "Couple've hours and
you've got yourself a meal."

"Maybe," Cordy said, "but here in the modern world we try not
to do any cooking that makes the house burn down.  Kind of
ruins the fun of dessert."

"Er - Cordy?" Wesley said, looking up at a few wisps of smoke.
"I think perhaps the rolls - "

"I've got it," Gunn said, getting out of his chair. "I need another
beer anyway."

"Get me one?" Angel asked, and Gunn nodded.

Wesley came over to take a celery stick from the tray on the
coffee table.  "Were you much for feasting in your day?"

"Who, me?" Angel asked.  He finally got the bag off and handed
it to Cordy, who immediately put it into a white garbage bag and
ran off to put it in her building's dumpsters.  "Yeah - Yeah, a bit.
Um - in the non-human sense.  Well, actually, in the human
sense too.  Um - I mean - "

Wes grinned at him. "I understand what you meant, thank you."

Angel looked around, noticing that they were alone. "Um - I - I
was wondering if - maybe we could talk later? About - about
things?"

"Angel," Wesley placed a hand on his knee, looking at him with
concern. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," Angel said, "Yeah - fine - really."

Wes leaned in, speaking softly. "Is it about our new
arrangement?  Because if it's a problem - "

"No - no problem," Angel said at once.  "I just - um -"

"Gunn," Cordy announced as she came back in, "if you are
adding more sour cream to those mashed potatoes I'm going to
make you wear them."

"It adds flavor!" Gunn protested.

"We'll talk later," Wesley assured Angel, giving his leg a
comforting pat before he stood up to return to his game.

***

"So what's on your mind?" Wesley asked when they finally
returned to the hotel.

Angel fingered his car keys.  He looked around the lobby,
wondering if there was another way to do this.  "I - I wanted
to…."

"Yes?" Wes shrugged out of his coat and hung it up on the tree
by the counter.  He paused as he noticed something. "Is that
Lindvar's Demonology?  I wondered where I'd misplaced it."
Wes picked up the heavy book and put it by his coat. "That
should go in the office."

"Right.  Yes.  The office," Angel said.  "The Angel Investigations
office.  Where we work."

Wesley looked at him. "Angel, are you drunk again?"

"No, no," Angel said.  "Kind of - um - *wish* I was but - no."

Wes frowned. "Why do you wish that you were?"

Angel straightened up. "Wes, I've been thinking - "

"No wonder you feel called upon to drink."

"Shaddup," Angel said, smiling in spite of himself.  "I've been
thinking about - about stuff.  Like the office."

"What about it?" Wes asked.

"Well - it's small," Angel said. "And - and far.  I mean you and
Cordy have like, what? A twenty minute commute each? And
*Gunn*… well actually it's not that bad for him but still - two
out of three."

"Four," Wesley reminded him. "Unless you've decided to quit."

"No. No, I don't want to quit," Angel said.  He swallowed. "I -
um - I'm thinking the *opposite* of that, actually."

Wes's eyes flickered. "You want a greater say in the business?
Angel, I thought you didn't want to be leader again."

"What? No!" Angel said.  "No - Wes - you're a *great* leader.
I'm not trying to take your place.  Hell, I'm actually trying to - to
-"

"What?" Wesley asked.

Angel paused, knowing he could stop, knowing what it meant if
he *did* stop.  He kept talking anyway. "To *give* you one.
With me."

Wes looked taken aback. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

Now that he'd started, it was easy to keep going. "Look - we all
know nobody likes the new office.  Hell, half the mail still gets
sent here anyway.  And I'm thinking - fuck - it's a waste of
money to make you have to carry that lease when I'm the only
person using the space here."

Wesley sat down on the ottoman, his eyes never leaving Angel's.
"I can't say the offer isn't tempting but - why?  The idea seemed
so painful to you before I didn't dare to suggest it."

"If I went evil," Angel said, "you'd be out in the street again. The
three of you'd have to start all over - find a place, get the word
out - I - I couldn't do that to you. To any of you.  I  figured…
long as there was a chance that could happen again, it was
better to leave you there. Leave you with a place of your own."

"And now?" Wes asked. "Now you don't feel it is a danger that
you'll turn evil?"

"No," Angel said, "It's a danger. You know that, Wes.  You
know that more than anybody.  Fuck, I - I could probably turn
in a second. Or - or lose my willpower - "

"You won't," Wes said, softly.

"I *could*," Angel said.  "Maybe - maybe next time I'm not so
strong.  But - but if you *trust* me, Wesley, if - if you think that -
that you can know about that and still want to be with me - "

"I do."

"Then I want you here," Angel said.  He moved forward to sit beside Wes.  "With
me."

Wesley blinked.  "Angel, are you suggesting - "

"Say no if you want," Angel said. "I'll love you still. *Nothing* is gonna
change how much I care about you, Wesley.  We can keep doing what we're doing
and that's okay.  But if you'd like - I - I mean *I'd* like…  I want you with
me, Wes.  All the time."

Wes licked his lips.  "Angel, I - h-how does this relate to the business? To
your fear?"

"This would be your home, Wes," Angel said.  "Your home, your office.  I go
evil again - *you* kick *me* out."

"Never," Wesley shook his head. "No - never. I would *never* turn my back on
you."

"But you could," Angel said. "You could be safe.  And - and I was thinking you
could have your own room, if you wanted. You *should* have your own room,
actually. A place I need an invite to get into.  But you could put your books
there, and your things, and - and sleep there at night too if you
wanted, I mean if it made you feel safe. You don't have to - I
mean I want you to, *God* I want you to - but you don't have
to be with me like that if you don't - "

Wesley grabbed him, pulled him close, and then kissed him.
Angel felt something inside melt at the touch.

"Is - is that a yes?" he asked.

Wes smiled at him, his eyes wet with tears. "Of *course* it's a
yes, you fool.  To everything."

"Really?" Angel asked.  He smiled back at Wes.  "Cool."

"Come on," Wes said, standing and taking Angel by the hand.
"Let's go upstairs.  I want a tour of my new home."

Angel almost felt giddy. "Glad to, Wes. Really, really glad to."

-END

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