Stay (Angel/Wesley, NC-17)

Title: Stay
Author: Green
Pairing: Angel/Wesley
Rating: NC-17
Summary: post-Apocalypse Nowish
Notes: For sockkpuppett, because I loff her and she begs very nicely when she wants something bad enough. Thank you to kyrieane for the quick beta.

***

Wesley turned his back to the window, turned around and refused to look at the fire raining down on the city. For long moments, he'd been standing there, looking out, mesmerized by the way it kept coming and coming, as if something had exploded in the sky and all that fell to earth was the fiery debris. But it never stopped, and he could only take so much of that.

Angel had disappeared, and while Wesley told himself he was not waiting for his return, he slipped down to the lobby of the Hyperion and busied himself doing practically nothing.

The hotel was silent. The phone was no longer ringing, but that was only because Wesley had slowly, deliberately taken it off the receiver and placed it on the desk. They couldn't save themselves, what would they tell the frightened, innocent souls who were calling?

He didn't know where Fred was, and Gunn had gone to sleep after he gave him some painkillers. Lorne had just left. Wesley had stayed behind, waiting.

And waiting.

Hours of Wesley wondering if he should have left, after all, and gone back to his own apartment -- away from the rest of the gang. He knew they had worked together tonight, but that didn't exactly make him a member of the group again. But still, he waited. For Angel.

Finally, Angel walked through the doors, not exactly limping but looking bloody and hurt nonetheless. He made it far enough inside to sit heavily on the steps, dropping his head down into his hands.

"Angel?" Wesley asked, concerned, walking forward a few steps. He could see the blood on Angel's knuckles, dark and drying over the torn skin there.

Angel slowly lifted his head and looked up at Wesley, his eyes showing defeat and something else. Something wounded.

Knowing better than to ask -- he had no business asking Angel what was wrong, since he'd caused, whether intentional or not, so much of that wrongness -- Wesley kept his voice light.

"I'm sure I can find something for your wounds, if you would allow me," he said.

Angel stood and nodded, and with a start, Wesley realized he was waiting to be shown the way. Wes turned around and led Angel up the stairs, through the vampire's own room, and to the bath. Angel had his own first aid kit there, under the sink, amid the large, soft towels.

"Did you find Connor?" Wesley asked quietly, knowing he didn't have the right, and Angel might let him know that quite plainly.

"He's fine," Angel said, voice above a whisper but just barely.

Wesley nodded and didn't say anything else on the subject. Anything more would be pushing his luck.

Quietly, Wesley took Angel's hands in his own and washed the blood and grit away in the sink with soap and cool water. Angel passively allowed him, not helping at all, and Wesley bit the inside of his mouth to control the small bubble of fear that tried to well up inside.

"And Cordelia?" Wesley tried again, but with that Angel met his eyes with a look that screamed, Don't.

Wes took a deep breath and nodded again, drying Angel's hands gently with a hand towel. "Let me see the rest," he said, motioning to where the blood was peeking out from beneath Angel's collar.

Angel merely bent his head to the side, and Wes tried to pull the shirt down enough to see. He couldn't see the wound clearly, so his hands went automatically to the buttons down the front. He silently opened and removed Angel's shirt, again worrying about the passive stillness of the vampire. He wet a washcloth with warm water and began gently dabbing at the wound, watching as the blood came away in dark smears on the soft cloth.

"It's already healing," he said, whether to himself of to Angel he didn't know. Angel, of course, did not answer as Wesley finished cleaning and bandaging him. "What about your shoulder?" he asked, remembering the arrow and searching with gentle fingertips for the wound.

Angel caught Wesley's hands in his own. "Healed," he said, still in the low, quiet voice that made Wesley want to fix something.

Wes looked down at where their hands were joined, where Angel wasn't letting go. "Can I do anything else?" he asked, inwardly wincing because it seemed as if everything he tried to do to help had backfired and caused more pain for everyone.

There was a slight tug, nothing rough or demanding, just a gentle pulling of Wesley closer. He realized he had every chance to pull away, if he would have wanted to. Instead, Wesley came just a little closer and allowed Angel to drop his head down onto his shoulder.

"Stay," Angel said, and Wesley imagined he could feel Angel's desperation through the muffled voice.

Angel's hands let go of Wesley's and crept up to Wesley's hips, as if asking permission to rest there.

"All right," Wes said, putting his hands tentatively on Angel's back, letting his thumbs move slightly over the cool skin there, not knowing exactly what it was Angel needed, but more than willing to push the rest of the world aside to give it to him.

They rested just that way for minutes, Angel breathing every now and then, burying his face in the crook of Wesley's neck. Wes held him just a little bit tighter when he did that, and Angel relaxed a little more.

Then Wesley pulled away, just a bit, and Angel pulled away as well, looking down. Embarrassed.

"It's all right, I was just going to suggest we get out of the bathroom. Would you like to sit?" Wesley asked.

Angel shrugged but allowed Wesley to lead him out into his room.

"Sit," Wesley said, gesturing to the bed. Angel sat without a word, and Wesley pointed to his boots. "You should take those off, it would be more comfortable."

While Angel bent to untie his black boots and Wesley sat beside him to do the same to his own shoes, not bothering to explain why. They finished at the same time, and Angel just looked at Wes, questions and so much longing in his eyes that Wesley didn't think, just reached up and cupped Angel's jaw.

"Is this all right?" Wesley asked softly. Angel simply leaned forward to rest his forehead against Wesley's.

"Stay," Angel said, voice barely above a whisper.

"I am." Wesley kept his voice just as quiet, just as unassuming. He felt his heart mend and break and mend again in the scarce inches it took to bridge the gap between them, and when his lips finally met Angel's, he felt it swell to insurmountable proportions.

Angel didn't pull back. Didn't stop him. Just parted his lips for Wesley's tongue and allowed him entrance, let Wesley kiss him gently, then unbelievably opened up even more and let Wesley deepen the kiss. Angel's moan sounded grateful and wanting, and his hands crept up to tighten in Wesley's shirt, then to fumble with the buttons there.

Wesley was caught between the euphoria of Angel actually wanting him and the fear of possible rejection. Even while Angel was opening his shirt and pulling it down his arms, Wesley expected him to stop, to say no, he didn't want this. Not after everything that had happened before, because there was nothing that could take any of it back.

Except.

Except now Angel was lying back, pulling him down on top of him, pushing up into Wesley's touch while wrapping his arms around him and pulling him down closer, closer, deepening the kiss but still, somehow, giving the impression that he wanted to be the more passive of the two.

Wesley understood wanting someone else to make things better, of being the one who was able to let go and allow the other partner to ground you. Wesley hadn't had much of that in his own life, and he doubted Angel had, either. And that Angel trusted him to do this, that Angel was asking without actually asking him to do this ...

"This won't solve anything," Wesley said, pulling away just a bit and frowning. "Whatever has happened, whatever ..."

"Wes," Angel interrupted. "I know."

"We shouldn't start something when nothing has been resolved. Moreover, this isn't the way to resolve things." Wesley realized he was thinking in terms of a long term something between them, and of their shattered friendship. Shattered trust.

"Do we have to talk about this?" Angel asked with a pained expression.

"We should, I think."

"Talking might lead to stopping, and that's something I really don't want happening," Angel admitted, leaning up on his elbows to capture Wesley's mouth in another kiss.

Wes groaned and kissed back, loving the way Angel's lips were pliant and almost fragile under his teeth, the way his tongue caressed his, as if trying to draw him deeper.

Frustrated with himself, Wesley pulled back again, breathing heavily. "You're sure about this?" he asked.

It was the wounded sadness in Angel's eyes that finally made Wesley decide to continue, not the exasperated, "Please," that he received as an answer.

Angel seemed content to kiss for what seemed like hours. On, and on, tilting his chin obediently when Wesley wanted to take a detour and run his lips and tongue and gentle teeth down Angel's neck.

This was different. Slower. While Wesley felt completely in control, it seemed worlds away from what it had been like the last time with Lilah, or what he imagined it to be like with Fred. This was more, like layers and layers of history and want and so much feeling, even though both Angel and Wesley were just barely scratching the surface of it all. It wasn't even anything like Wesley had imagined it to be like with Angel, either. Back before Connor, before this terrible, downward spiral of a year had began, and Wesley had laid in bed at night, letting his fantasies come to him, always Angel, Angel, Angel. This was nothing like that

Because now Wesley was a different person. He didn't just feel it on the outside, he felt it inside as well. Older. More cynical. Hurt, broken, then built up again on the ashes and charred stones. And yet still, at the heart of it all, there was Angel.

Angel, who was unbuttoning Wesley's trousers, making a sound that was almost a hum when he encountered no other barrier to the hot erection. Angel, whose cool fingers wrapped around him while he kissed deeper, and moaned appreciatively when Wesley rolled them over on their sides so they could twist and wriggle out of their pants.

Naked, with overheated skin meeting Angel's smooth coolness, Wesley rolled back on top of Angel and settled between his legs. "Tell me," he said between kisses that were only barely on the tame side of sloppy. "Tell me what you need." His voice was sure and strong even while he felt like he was shaking, coming apart at the seams inside.

"You. Wes, please," Angel said, running powerful hands over Wesley's back, kneading the skin, then moving them down to grip Wesley's hips and pull him closer so their cocks bumped and ground together. "Fuck me."

Wesley groaned. He'd never dreamed of this, not even in his darkest fantasies. Always wanted Angel to take him, use him. But now he was using him, only not in the same way. Angel needed him, even if he wouldn't talk about why. And now, hearing the words come out of Angel's mouth in a harsh, almost desperate voice, Wesley nodded and dipped down to take Angel's lips with his own, harder, demanding now, putting himself to the task of giving Angel what he needed.

Angel relaxed, bit by bit Wesley could feel it, the harder and deeper Wesley kissed him the calmer he became.

Wes pulled back, gasping for air and control. "Do you have something?"

Angel's eyes opened, unfocused and confused. "Er, no?" he said sheepishly.

Nodding, Wesley slipped down Angel's body, spreading the vampire's legs, smiling up at him reassuringly.

At the first touch of tongue to cool flesh, Angel gave a startled gasp, then moaned as Wesley proceeded to use his fingers and hot mouth to good use, stretching and teasing Angel open, plunging his tongue inside again and again while Angel moaned and began to writhe.

"Wes, fuck, that's ... yes ..." Angel said, and then when he was prepared as much as he could be, Wesley slid back up his body, pausing to lick the thick, red cock on his way. Angel gasped again, hands reaching up for Wesley as he desperately pulled him into position.

When Angel saw Wesley bring his hand up, he took it and held it in front of his own face, licking a long, wet stripe from palm to fingertips, eyes dark and hot as they watched Wes the entire time.

Wesley groaned again, slicked his cock with Angel's spit, and guided himself towards Angel's entrance.

"Look at me," Wesley said as he brought Angel's knees up and spread him even wider. "Watch me when I push inside you."

Heart pounding in his chest, breath coming in harsh, short pants, Wesley kept his eyes locked with Angel's as he slowly sank inside. Angel was so tight and cool around him, so perfectly Angel, and the dark eyes just kept watching him, becoming deeper and almost black with every inch.

"Fuck me," Angel said again, and Wesley lost the tight control he had himself under and pulled back just to plunge in again, deep inside, making Angel groan loudly.

Angel's arms went around Wesley and he pulled him closer, tipping his hips up to allow him deeper inside.

Love you, love you Angel, Wesley's voice repeated in his head, and he bit his lip to keep the words from spilling out all over their bodies.

Their lips met again and again at odd angles, briefly, and when they didn't Angel's mouth was against Wesley's forehead, or his shoulder, his bicep as it flexed. He knew he couldn't hurt Angel, not like this, so he let himself go, fucking harder and harder, letting Angel's voice urge him on.

"Stroke yourself," Wesley told him, feeling himself so close and wanting, needing Angel to come with him. He felt Angel's hand leave his skin and slide between their bodies, watched Angel's eyes fall close as the combination of sensations overwhelmed him.

Angel was stroking himself with one hand while the other was wrapped around Wesley, desperately holding on and pulling him closer, urging him to go faster, harder.

There wasn't even the warning of a climbing, building sensation, only their mingled voices crying out as they held on to each other, coming together as their mouths found each other again, fucking furiously, then slower and lazier as they came down and their bodies relaxed into each other.

Wesley pulled out as if he were in a daze, rolling over onto his side and pulling Angel into his arms. His breath still came fast and hard, but he kissed Angel's temple, and the bridge of his nose, then down closed eyelid and sweaty cheek to kiss him gently.

Love you, Angel, he thought, wishing now was the time and place for them to just let go of the past and move forward together.

Angel opened his eyes and watched Wes seriously. He let one large, cool hand rest on Wesley's hip, fingers moving back and forth over the sweat-slick, overheated skin. He didn't say, Thank you, but it was there, in his eyes, and Wesley inclined his head just a little in understanding.

"Sleep," Wesley said, kissing Angel one last time on his closed lips and moving to get up.

"Wesley," Angel said quietly, reaching out to stop him.

"Yes, Angel?"

"Stay."

End

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