Ruminations I

Disclaimer applies to all chapters

Title Ruminations I
Author: Scribe
Fandom: AtS
Summary: On his way to rescue Angel, Wesley recalls their first time together.
Rating: Fan rated adult only
Pairings: Angel/Wesley
Characters: Angel, Wesley
Betas: None
Notes:
Disclaimer: I did not create, and do not own the rights to, the recognizable media characters that appear in this story.
I have no legal or bindingagreement with the creators, or owners.
I do not seek, and would not accept,profit from this fiction.
I have nothing but affection and respect for the creators, and the actors and actresses who portrayed these characters.
This story is in no way meant to reflect on the actual lives or life styles of the actors and actresses who portrayed the characters
All original characters are copyrighted by the author. Do NOT use without specific permission
Warnings:

Ruminations
by Scribe

On a boat, headed for Angel's resting place--

Darla had been made as comfortable as it was possible to be when lashed to the side of a boat's steering cabin. Wesley studied Sh She was still limp, still staring at nothing in particular. *She probably wouldn't notice if we slung her in a net and dragged her from the stern.* he thought.

Gunn was in the cabin, steering, while Fred studied a map. They were talking softly. Every now and then Gunn glanced out at Wesley, his expression unreadable, but his eyes concerned.

*I think he suspects something,* Wesley thought. *It might not be that much of a surprise to him.* Wesley turned away, leaning against the side of the boat, staring down at the sparkling water. *He's under there--again. My sweet Angel.* He closed his eyes, thinking back...

The dawn was fast approaching, and they were too far away from the office or Wesley's apartment to reach either in time. They'd checked into a shabby motel, and Wesley had gone to the 7-11 next door and returned with a large bag. Angel, who'd gone on to the room, took it and dumped it out on the bed, eyebrows rising as he studied the contents. "Aluminum foil and masking tape, okay, I can understand that."

Wesley nodded, removing keyskeys and wallet to put them on the dresser. "Heavy duty foil. I'll have that window plastered over in a jiffy. Double layer, I think. Those curtains are particularly ratty." He cocked his head. "I think I'll mask around the door, also. It doesn't strike me as particularly snug in the frame."

"Yeah, like I said, I can see the reason for that. And the toothbrush and toothpaste. But the Scope?"

"Must keep our breath kissing sweet, mustn't we?" *Good God, where the bloody HELL did THAT come from?* Wesley had covered quickly. "The lad seems to have scenting powers approaching those of a bloodhound. You'll notice that I brought deodorant, also."

Angel nodded. "Okay. Good thing you didn't get soap. They actually have some in the bathroom."

"I confess myself astonished."

"Well, hang onto your drawers--they also have sample sized shampoo and body lotion." He showed Wesley two small foil packets, then tossed them on the bedside table.

"Good lord, we've checked into the Waldorf-Astoria of no-tell motels."

Angel chuckled, a dark, rich sound that sent a minute shiver up Wesley's spine. "Yeah. We even have clean sheets, and there's no come stains on the blanket. I checked."

"I certainly hope not--my supper is lying on it."

"Somehow I never pictured you as a Lunchables kinda guy, Wes."

"You're joking. Cheese and crackers are consummately English. And it was either that or extremely suspect hot dogs or cold sandwiches. At least this has an expiration date. I purchased beer instead of their wine. It seemed to be mainly a collection of flavored sugar-water. If you'll help me, we can finish covering the window before the beer warms up."

They started, ripping off sections of foil and sticking them over the glass with the masking tape. "I thought you British LIKED room temperature beer."

"English beer ale ile is designed to be drunk near tepid, American is not."

They finished quickly. Wesley double locked the door, being sure to throw the bolt, angel gel said, "I need a shower. Mind if I go first?"

Wesley waved him on, peeling the plastic up on his pre-packaged meal. "Go on. I had one just before we left on this little jaunt, and I can wait till this evening."

He munched his way through the cheese and crackers (it wasn't bad, though the crackers could have been crr). r). He turned on the television, and was surprised to find that they not only had cable, but had premium channels.

He was watching the tail end of Night of the Living Dead, modern version, when Angel came out of the bathroom. He pointed at the screen, with the hand that held his beer bottle. "You know, I never thought of it before, but do you suppose that Romero had ever heard of the Kouraskan demons? They, too, are fond of human flesh, and can most effectively be killed by destroying the brain."

"I think that there actually ARE such things as coincidences. Not everything is related, and why are you sitting on the desk?"

Wesley glanced at Angel, and felt his mouth go dry. The vampire was dressed in nothing but a towel wrapped low around his hips. He was a symphony of black and white--pale skin and dark hair and eyes. Wesley quickly took a sip of beer, and said nonchalantly, "Because I used the chair to brace the door, and I didn't think it would be polite to risk getting cracker crumbs in the bed."

"Oh, I don't know." Angel stretched out on the bed, propping himself up against the headboard. "I wouldn't kick you out of bed for eating crackers." Wesley found that he had to take another sip of beer. "Did you save me one of those?"

"Um, yes. I wasn't sure that you could... you'd want..."

"I can, Wesley. A vampire can do just about everything a human can with the exception of the sunshine and holy objects thing. We don't {b}need{/b} to eat and drink, like humans. But most of us are hests,sts, and we don't believe in denying ourselves pleasure. Good drink is definitely a pleasure." He crooked his fingers. "So bring that brew over here and sit down. We can do the couch potato thing for a little while."

Wesley brought the beer over to Angel and settled gingerly on the bed beside him. Angel took a sip and sighed happily, then said, "Are you trying to embarrass me, Wes?"

"What? N-no, of course not. What do you mean?"

"Well, I thought maybe you were giving me a subtle dig about being an uncouth slob, since I'm in a towel and you're still in full tweeds. You aren't planning to sleep like that, are you? I gotta warn you, I sleep nude, and your outfit would be just WAY too prickly."

"Um... yes. Of course." Wesley stood, turning his back because he knew, he bloody well KNEW that he was going to start blushing like some damn virgin, about to be deflowered. *And why the hell did I have to think of THAT? Please, Lord, if you have any mercy, don't let me start to get hard.* He kicked off his shoes, then removed his jacket, vest, and pant's, folding them neatly on a chair. One good thing about tweeds--they didn't wrinkle easily.

He hesitated a moment before beginning to unbutton his shirt, thinking of how pale he was. *And I don't exactly look like Arnold Schwartzenegger...* He paused, frowning. *I don't look like Arnold Horschak, either. I'm not skinny--I'm... lean.* Then he thought *Sod it. He's a VAMPIRE--it isn't as if he isn't used to pale complexions, and why worry about my pecs when he's already had a look at my legs?*

"Hurry up, or I swear that I'll find a monster truck rally on ESPN."

Wesley quickly jerked off his shirt and hopped onto the bed so briskly that Angel bounced. "You didn't have to threaten me, you know."

Angel studied him. "Boxers. Knew it." He pointed toward the foot of the bed. "Now, take off your socks and you won't look like the stud in a 1940s porno movie." As Wesley removed the socks he said, "What are we watching now?"

"I'm not sure. I believe this is Showtime. They often have quality programming."

The scene on the television was a dance club. The dance floor was packed, all the customers dancing to a thumping, curiously primal, techno mix. Lights flashed, alternately illuminating and hiding the dancers. As they watched a handsome man suddenly grabbed a beautiful youth and kissed him, hard--with tongue. Wesley gaped.

Angel nodded. "Yep. I'd call that quality programming."

"I... I didn't think that sort of thing was allowed on television over here."

"Well, it's your fault, Wes."

"B-beg pardon?" *When did I begin to stutter?*

"Queer as Folk. This is the American version."

"Oh, yes. I see." He started to get up. "I'm sure there's something else interesting on."

Angel caught his arm, his cool grip firm. "Sit down, Wes--relax. I think I've seen this episode before, but I don't mind seeing it again."

Wesley sat back down, but he did NOT relax. He couldn't--not with a nearly naked Angel so close. They watched the program. The blonde boy was an almost total innocent--didn't even know what rimming was. Brian showed him.

Wesley found his jaw dropped. He almost jumped when Angel said, "That's more erotic than most pornography I've seen."

Wesley shot him a surprised glance. "You think so?"

Angel nodded. "I do."

"Have you seen much... um...?"

"Gay porn. My share, I suppose. Of course, I can remember back when all there were was woodcuts and etchings. Video really revolutionized it. You're British, Wes--was the image of British gay life on the original series accurate?"

Wesley stared at him in silence. Angel returned the look levelly. There was no sarcasm or teasing in his voice. Wesley considered going the 'I have no idea what you mean' route, then said quietly, "You must understand that I've never had a great deal of leisure time to go club hopping, so I couldn't say. It wasn't an accurate portrayal of MY life. I never had intercourse in a public restroom."

Angel laid his hand on Wesley's bare thigh. His touch was cool and light. "How about cheap motels?"

Wesley drew a deep breath. "Not yet." He leaned over and kissed Angel, pressing his lips to the corner of that beautifully chiseled mouth. He sat back and waited to see what would happen.

Angel smiled at him slowly, then reached out and ran his hand up into Wesley's hair, holding him. He leaned toward Wesley, but stopped just before their lips touched. He murmured, "Gotta warn ya, Wes--I'm an alpha male."

"And I'm not a bloody virgin, Angel. I'm not worried about breaking. Just don't be brutal and we'll get on fine."

"You have no idea how happy that makes me, because I've wanted to get into your pants since the first time you tripped into my office."

Angel kissed him, then, his tongue sweeping into Wesley's mouth to begin a thorough exploration. After a moment he pulled back, smiling, and said, "Chocolate mint?"

"They had a dessert in the Lunchable."

Angel moved onto his knees, straddling Wesley's thighs. He gently pushed Wesley's head up and back, and dropped a kiss just behind and below his ear. Wesley made a noise halfway between a moan and a giggle as Angel started licking. The vampire moved to nibble his earlobe. Wesley shivered as Angel whispered in his ear. "You need an earring. A little gold stud would be sooo sexy with those tweeds. I'll buy you one, if you get your ear pierced."

Wesley gasped. "I suppose I should be happy that you haven't asked me to have my nipples pierced."

Angel chuckled. "Don't be silly. That has to be saved for a special occasion--like an anniversary." He gripped Wesley's shoulders and his head dropped as he buried his face against Wesley's throat, licking and sucking. Wesley clutched at him, whining with pleasure, but Angel must have misinterpreted it. He pulled back quickly, saying, "Don't be afraid, Wes. I just want to give you a plain old hickey--I'm not going to..."

Wesley touched his lips, stopping him. "I know, you silly git. I trust you." Wesley settled his hand on the front of Angel's towel, molding his fingers over the firm shaft beneath and stroking the nubbly terrycloth over it. "Do you trust me enough to let me have a taste of this?"

Angel answered by sitting beside Wesley again, opening the towel. Wesley reached out and touched Angel's cock, running his fingers up and down the rigid shaft. "Oh, my." He blinked, looking back at Angel's face. "I'm certainly glad that we have that body lotion."

"You're telling me? Why do you think I drew it to your attention? I saw that you didn't have any lube in that bag of supplies."

Wesley moved down in the bed, settling himself at a comfortable level, then hesitated. "I hate to bring this up at this juncture, but... Protection?"

Angel laughed. "Believe me, Wesley, there is NOTHING I can give you." His eyes danced as he tapped Wesley's head. "One advantage to being undead--we can safely go bareback."

Relieved, Wesley gripped Angel's prick, glancing up at him. *His flesh may be cool, but his eyes burn.* Wesley dipped his head, put out his tongue and swiped it over Angel's cockhead. He was rewarded with a guttural sigh. Wesley had done this many times in his imagination, but it was more wonderful than he had dreamed. Angel's skin did not carry the usual salt tang--vampires don't sweat. There was a clean, very slightly bitter flavor that Wesley found highly addicting.

He lapped delicately, progressing from short licks of the glans to long, slow licks from base to tip. He was vaguely surprised to realize that Angel was breathing, and that his breath had quickened. He couldn't be sure if it was a resurrected reflex, or if Angel was doing it on purpose, to put him more at ease. The bottom line was that he didn't care.

Wesley gradually took Angel's prick into his mouth, sucking and bobbing till he had most of it down his throat. Then he held him deep and swallowed, letting his throat muscles caress the buried cock. Angel groaned and tugged at his hair, pulling Wesley up.

Angel peeled Wesley's boxers down, then gave a low wolf whistle. He grinned at the blushing Englishman, murmuring,ou kou know, I'm thinking that there might come a time when I wouldn't mind a British invasion." He stroked Wesley's dick, his touch firm and even. Clear pre-ejaculate seeped from the teardrop shaped slit, and Angel gathered it with his thumb, then popped the digit in his mouth and sucked on it. He smacked his lips. "Did you know, Wes, that a vampire can tell what a mortal's blood will taste like by sampling their other body fluids?"

"And?"

"And I'm surprised you've lived as long as you have, dealing with vamps like you do. You're delicious."

Wesley's voice was husky. "Angel, you don't have to chat me up. I've already said I want you to fuck me."

Angel kissed him again. "Get comfortable, sexy."

Wesley arranged himself on his knees and elbows, forearms folded together and a pillow where he could comfortably rest his head on it. While he was doing this, Angel got the packet of body lotion and tore it open. He squeezed some out onto is fingers, then spread Wesley's buttocks. "Hang on, Wes, this may be a little chillier than you're used to."

It was, but Wesley had been very careful not to shiver, determined Angel would know that his condition did not affect Wesley's desire for his touch. He felt Angel smear the slippery ointment around his anus, massaging the tender, crinkled flesh till Wesley could feel himself beginning to relax. Then a cool, thick finger was slowly sinking into him. He held his breath till it was firmly seated, then exhaled happily. "Ah."

"Like that, do you?" Angel sounded amused.

"It's been too damn long. Carry on, please." Angel pumped in and out a few times, twisting his finger. Then there were TWO fingers, gently spreading apart as they worked in his ass, carefully opening him. Angel pressed even deeper, and Wesley threw his head back, hissing in pleasure as the vampire found his prostate. "Oh, bloody hell. That is fucking fantastic."

"I love your elegant turn of phrase." He rubbed again, and again. Wesley found himself trembling and pushing back. "Say something elegant now."

"Fuck me."

Angel laughed softly, pulling his hand free. He moved up behind Wesley, kneeling between his spread legs. He put one hand on the small of Wesley's back and gripped his cock with the other. "Wes, remember, this may be a bit chilly at first, but you're body heat will transfer to me quickly. I'm going to hold off coming as long as I can, but I gotta warn you, buddy..." He stroked Wesley's back, "I have a feeling you're going to be as tight as a vice and hotter than my stay in hell, but in a GOOD way."

"Will you PLEASE stop torturing me, you sodding sadist?"

Angel pressed his cockhead to Wesley's stretched hole and slowly, slowly slid inside. They both moaned. "Oh, God, Wes--I underestimated." He started to thrust, his movements slow and strong.

Wesley dropped his head down on the pillow, angling his pelvis a fraction. Angel's prick passed over his prostate, and he whimpered with pleasure. Angel realized what had happened and took hold of Wesley's hips, holding him in that position. He sharpened his thrusts, hitting the prostate firmly on each pass.

Wesley shifted his arms so that he could brace himself securely while freeing one hand. He reached back and began to jerk himself quickly. He could tell by the vehemence of Angel's jabs that he was near climax. Wesley believed that simultaneous orgasms were something of a myth, but he had no objection to trying for them.

Angel was pounding into him, muttering in a language that Wesley barely recognized as Gaelic. Then he gasped, "So good, Wes. So fucking good! Damn, we've wasted so much time."

If he had had enough breath, he would have agreed. Instead he reserved his energy for bucking back against his new lover, squeezing to give him an internal caress. Angel cried out, and Wesley felt a cool gush of liquid deep in his bowels. Then Angel was pushing his hands aside, taking hold of Wesley's cock and caressing him with shocking tenderness. Wesley moaned Angel's name as he came, trembling around Angel's still embedded, still hard cock.

Angel stroked Wesley's sides as the ex-Watcher's breathing slowed back to normal. He rolled off Wesley, pulling free of his body. Wesley stayed still for a moment. *This is the awkward time. This pretty much determines what comes later. Will it be dismissal, casual thanks?* Wesley swallowed. *Contempt?"

Angel gripped his shoulders, turning him over on his side, and pulled him into his arms. Wesley lay still as Angel settled Wesley's head on his shoulder. "Is this all right, Wes? Can I hold you?"

Wesley closed his eyes in relief, and put his arms around Angel in return. "You can hold me as long as you like."

*****
"Wes?"

Wesley blinked. The voice had been female. He wasn't lying on slightly coarse motel sheets--he was leaning against the side of a boat, staring down at the water. He turned. "Yes?"

Fred frowned. "What were you thinking of? I called you three times."

"I was thinking of Angel," he said honestly.

Her expression softened. "Don't worry, we'll get him. We're almost there now, just another couple of minutes. You need to take the wheel so Gunn can get into his diving gear."

"Yes. Yes, of course." Wesley cast one more glance at the water. The sun was setting, and gold and crimson sparks seemed to dance across the surface. *I'm coming, love. Hold on.*