Snowbound

Chapter Sixteen

It would be incorrect to say that Wesley and Angel did not notice the tactful withdrawal that left them alone. They saw Giles and Spike slip silently from the bed and go into the small room beyond the bedchamber, and they heard the door close, but their gaze did not waver. Faces thrust close together, eyes alight with anger that each felt was justified, they knelt on the bed; Wesley naked, Angel clad only in a light robe, and let the angry words spill from their lips.

Angel, if inclined to pause for a moment’s reflection, would have admitted that he was hurt by the evident pleasure Wesley had found in Giles’ bed. Wesley might have allowed for this, and Angel’s unease at his own sudden rebellious streak, and thus tempered his response...but it was infinitely more satisfying to fight than to reconcile.

Neither touched the other, sensing that contact would bring with it a host of complications, until Angel, his voice lowering to a growl said cruelly, “And how can you bear to touch him after us, Wesley? The man’s old enough to be your father! Ah; is that the attraction then? How foolish of me not to see it before now! Do you see in him a father who loves you, who does not abuse you –”

Wesley’s fist drove hard against his ribs cutting off his final words and Angel gasped in shock as much as pain. Wesley and he had sparred, to be sure, boxing under the watchful eyes of Jackson, the former boxing champion; Angel earning a rare word of praise for the power of his blows, Wesley for his unflagging courage, but never had they fought in earnest.

“I love him for what he is,” Wesley said. “A friend. Do not try to take that from me, Angel.” His voice too had lowered but it was no less threatening.

“’Tis he who tries to take you from us,” Angel replied, refusing to return the blow or even acknowledge it though his side ached and he wanted to rub the pain away.

“Never once has he done that,” Wesley said fiercely. “You both sent me to him and brought this upon yourselves. Do not seek to shift the blame to his shoulders. He has enough to bear.”

“Aye, he does,” Angel snapped. “And tell me, for I find myself mightly curious, do you intend to spread your legs for Rayne as willingly as you did for his toy?”

The second blow sent Angel sprawling across the bed and Wesley took advantage of that at once, scrambling over and raising his fist to slam it down against a mouth that smiled up at him in challenge.

“Hit me, Wesley,” Angel taunted. “It will not change what I feel, what I know to be the truth.”

“And what is that?” Wesley said, his hand hard against Angel’s shoulder, pinning him to the bed.

“That our love for you is not enough.”

The sadness in Angel’s voice, sudden and piercing, swept the anger from them both and Wesley’s voice was uncertain as he answered, “I – no. No, Angel. It is more than enough. I cannot tell you how much – why are we fighting?”

“Because it is easy?” said Angel, reaching up and pulling Wesley to him so that they lay across the bed together.

“It never used to be,” Wesley replied. Angel felt the body beside him awaken as he skimmed his hand from shoulder to thigh. “Before this, I would have said the easiest course of all was for us to agree, you and I.”

Angel held Wesley’s gaze. “And now I discover that you resented that and I feel – disapped. ed. Why could you not have told me?”

“It all comes back to how I found you and Spike,” Wesley replied, arching his body against Angel’s without seeming to notice what he was doing. “You seemed complete to me, in need of no one. I could not see why you wanted me – not for ever, not for always – ” He sighed, and rubbed his forehead against Angel’s shoulder, as though it pained him. “Knowing that we three are supposed to be together made me happy at first, but now I wish we had never found that out.”

“Why?” Angel asked, letting his hand linger on the curve of Wesley’s backside, feeling the muscles tense as he dragged his nails gently against the skin in random patterns. The urge to hurt had left them both, he sensed, and in its wake came a need to come to an understanding.

Wesley laughed, but there was no joy in his voice. “I feel as an heiress must do when she is married to a man she was betrothed to in her cradle but has never met. You had to love me. You had no choice. That means it is not real.”

That made no sense to Angel. “Not real? We were – no, I’ll speak for myself - I was drawn to you and Spike because our love is real. Is love that goes beyond what most experience, no matter how happy they think themselves. How can you doubt that it is real? You say Spike and I seemed whole. We were not. Happy, yes, and it might have been enough for us, but once we found you – oh, Wesley, you fool. You doubt yourself but do not ever doubt our love for you.”

“I am not a fool!” Wesley said indignantly. “And I would never had doubted it had you not sent me –”

“To Giles,” Angel said, resigned to the fact that their action had given Wesley a weapon to wield that would not soon grow dull. “I regret that, Wesley. I apologise to you and I’ll tender my regrets to Giles on bended knee if that will convince you of my sincerity.”

Wesley bit hip asp as though he held back a smile. “I think he would be a little overcome were you to be quite that fervent, Angel.”

Angel pinched the flesh he was teasing. “So that amuses you, does it? I offer to abase myself at his feet and you laugh?” His voice was playful but he saw Wesley’s eyes darken at his words and heard his breath quicken. Bending his head, he bit gently at Wesley’s shoulder, thinking swiftly, attempting to find a way to the centre of the maze in which he and Wesley were wandering. It was simpler with Spike; he had found his place quickly, at Angel’s feet, and it suited them both. Wesley though, seemed to shift with bewildering speed, from uncertain and willing to be led, to insistent and demanding to lead. Angel could not help picturing what had gone on in this very bed between Wesley and Giles and it heated his blood.

“Do you know something, Wesley?” he asked, letting his fingers trace the cleft in Wesley’s backside and smiling as Wesley shifted to allow him the access he needed to deepen his touch, “We have never made love, just you and I. Spike had you first and brought you to me, but since then, it has always been the three of us.”

“I – yes, that is so,” Wesley said. His cock was hard now and Angel could feel it stir against him as Wesley’s hips began to move in small thrusts, responding to the steadily stroking fingers that delved deeper with each pass.

“I have thought about it but never wished to exclude Spike. He, in turn, probably wishes me at Jericho some nights, wanting to have you to himself –”

“Or have you,” Wesley said quickly. “Last night – without me – was it not ...pleasant?”

Angel let his fingers come to rest against the opening to Wesley’s body and waited. Wesley’s hips stilled rather than move away from that tantalisingly slight pressure and Angel watched his fingers tighten where they lay against Angel’s shoulder. “It was good, but not better, and you were never far from our thoughts,” Angel answered honestly. He reconsidered. “Though there were moments when perhaps we were a little too pre-occupied to give you our full attention.”

Wesley’s gasp and smothered laugh were good to hear but Angel wanted more, wanted Wesley to be at ease once more. Or had he ever been? Doubt assailed him and he found himself wishing for Spike, who seemed always to know what to do and say. Angel knew his tongue stumbled when it came to talk of feelings; it left some thinking him cold and distant, about which he cared little, but with those closest to him he sometimes longed for Spike’s ready wit.

“I do not think we are like to be interrupted,” Angel said, knowing that Spike would guess the outcome of a fight, having caused plenty in his time simply to provoke lovemaking as wild as it was enjoyable. If Giles attempted to intervene, well, Spike could be ruthless when needed. “Perhaps we could take advantage of our solitude?”

Wesley’s eyes moved to the door beyond which Spike and Giles sat. “Not interrupted, no,” he said, his voice uncertain, “but they can hear us.”

Angel moved his hand, dragging his fingers slowly along the smooth skin of Wesley’s backside and watching his face as he did so. He let his hand follow the curve of a hip, then dip into the coarse, dark hairt cut curled around Wesley’s cock. By the time his hand was cupping Wesley’s balls, Wesley was tensing his jaw, stifling a moan. Angel gave him a wicked grin and said in a whisper, “Wesley, I can have you whimpering inside five minutes and we both know it, and when I’m done with you, you wouldn’t care who could hear you beg. Tell me, am I right?”

He let his hand hover over Wesley’s cock, a hairsbreadth from it, knowing that Wesley would feel the warmth of his hand and know how close it was. He got a careful nod in return and waited to see what Wesley would say, amusing himself by trying to predict it. Five years ago, when Wesley was new to his bed, he would have been so eager that the conversation would not have arisen; Angel had taken him once in an empty changing room at Oxford, bent over a table beside a low window with Spike telling them how the cricketers were leaving the field ... walking down the path...approaching the door...and Wesley had done no more than curse Angel for not increasing the speed of his leisurely thrusts until they were within a minute of being caught.

Caution had come later, in France. Wesley did not know it – would never know it – but Angel had killed a foot soldier who had come to him with a sly grin and an outstretched hand, wanting money for silence after seeing Wesley kneeling, his mouth on Angel, as Spike watched them both. The dark night had not protected them – but it gave Angel enough cover to slit the man’s throat and leave him where an enemy patrol was picking off sentries every night.

Now they were home, and relatively safe if they were discreet – but the habits the army had instilled made Wesley reluctant where once he was carefree through innocence. Angel could not fault that – but not here. Here they were safe...

“You agree? ‘Tis good to know.” Angel smiled and then rolled away from Wesley and lay on his back, with his head on the pillow Giles had used. “So since I’ve no need to prove myself, why do we not see if the reverse is true? Have me, Wes. Make me moan and plead, make me beg for you to go a little faster, make me ask for your word before I come.” He would not have bhumahuman had he not savoured the look that spread across Wesley’s face. Reaching down, he undid the knot that held his robe fastened and shrugged out of it. “Well? Does the idea have no appeal?”

Wesley found his voice. “For me? Yes. For you? I doubt it. Have done, Angel.”

“You think I tease you? Offer you what I have no intention of giving?”

Angel glanced over and saw the familiar bottle of oil beside the bed. With a graceful shift of his powerful body, he reached for it and poured a puddle into his palm. Wesley was kneeling, watching him with a puzzled frown that turned to astonishment when Angel came to him and brought his hand to Wesley’s cock, coating it liberally and making each stroke a caress. He handed the bottle to Wesley and then lowered his eyes and waited.

Wesley took two quick breaths and then sighed. “Very well. I do not know what the outcome of this will be and I hope you’ll have no cause to regret it, but –”

“You were ever too talkative,” Angel said, his voice tight. He was unbearably aroused now; the fight, the piquancy of having Wesley inside him ...he wanted deeds, not words.

“And that’s your notion of being obedient?” Wesley said. He laughed. “You’d have the hide off Spike were he to speak so to you at a time like this.”

Angel allowed tre tremor that sent through him to die away before he replied. “I would, aye. And he knows it. I’ve earned his respect by never faltering when it came to loving him or disciplining him. You, on the other hand, need to show me what you would have me do.” He grinned. “I’m finding this exceedingly novel, you see.”

Wesley didn’t return the smile, but his eyes twinkled a little. “I’m sure you are. Which is why I think this will not work.” He let his gaze drop to Angel’s cock and said softly, “I’ll take care of that, but not as you suggest.”

“Why not?” Angel demanded, feeling frustration and indignation rise.

“Why do you want me to?” Wesley countered. “Has Spike ever fucked you?”

“Yes.” Angel’s shoulders moved uneasily. “I did not...it was not as good for either of us.”

“Then what makes you think it will be different with me? Or do you not care? Is this some attempt to make up to me for last night?” Wesley’s voice was rising. “How can you think I want you under those conditions?”

“Wesley, no!” Angel was aghast. “I would never force you – or Spike – or myself to do anything we did not desire. You know that. Spike and I – it’s different. With you – I truly do not know. I’m curious, I suppose. Yes.” He frowned at Wesley, trying to collect his thoughts. “I love you and yet in some ways I feel I’ve never really known you. Your father – your ordeal at his hands – you can be so strong and yet so vulnerable. You’re of interest to me, Wesley. You took Giles last night, did you not?” He didn’t wait for Wesley’s nod before continuing. “It’s not in me not to feel curious. I want to see that side of you, Wesley. If it’s love, it has to be total. Nothing held back, nothing hidden.” His voice faltered and he glanced up at Wesley. “You’re sitting there watching me make a fool of myself. We need Spike; he’d have my words tied up like a nosegay, all pretty and fancy, with a rhyme to finish them off.”

Wesley shifted closer to Angel and slid his arms around him. “You do need Spike – we both do - but not to speak for us.” He kissed him and Angel felt the assurance and the love behind it. “Dear Angel...” Wesley murmured against his mouth as his thumbnail scored a line down Angel’s spine. “Convincing Angel,” he whispered as he drew Angel’s slick fingers back, parting Angel’s buttocks and waiting as Angel prepared himself. “Now show me how obedient you can be,” Wesley said. leaning away and holding Angel’s gaze. “Because now I’mcurious.”

“And what if I fail you?” Angel said, watching Wesley’s face settle into determined lines.

“Oh, I don’t think that is something I’ll permit,” Wesley said gently. “So please don’t trouble yourself with the thought.”

“But –”

Wesley’s sigh was well-nigh inaudible. Angel’s startled cry of pain as he was twisted around and pushed down so that his backside was in reach of Wesley’s hand, reached the room in which Spike and Giles waited and caused Giles to break off from his story and raise questioning eyebrows at Spike, who simply chuckled and bade him continue.

“Do you find yourself somewhat less anxious to discover what will happen if you fail me?” Wesley asked, sitting back on his heels and running a finger over the marks he’d left on Angel’s skin.

“Truthfully?” Angel said, turning his head and grinning up at Wesley. “No.”

Wesley folded his arms and looked at him sternly, which did no more than increase Angel’s desire to kiss him, as Wesley looked as tempting as he ever had. “That is forward of you, Angel. I think schooling you would take an age, not an hour or so.” Then he smiled slowly. “Of course, I could try a different strategy...on your back, Angel.”

Angel opened his mouth to query the order and Wesley frowned at him. He wriggled into position and watched as Wesley got off the bed and went to Giles’ wardrobe, rummaging about and coming out with a handful of cravats, wise, long strips of linen.

“A little stiff with the starch, but they should suffice,” Wesley remarked. He gave Angel a measuring look. “A little more to the centre of the bed, I think. No, don’t even think about speaking, Angel. I’d prefer your mouth not be bound, because I’m anticipating some...interesting sounds, but I’ll not be subjected to your insolence, do I make myself clear? A nod will suffice.”

Angel gave him the nod he’d asked for and lay still as Wesley bound him hand and foot. The final length of linen Wesley draped across Angel’s mouth. “There. Perhaps that will remind you to be silent, without hindering you when I wish to hear you speak.”

Angel felt unreasoning panic rise within him. Foolish; he trusted Wesley as he did himself, and the bonds were not tight enough to hurt...but he was helpless and that, more than the brief flurry of slaps, made him wonder if he could do this...

“Since punishing you with pain seems ineffective – though I’d wager I could change your mind if I had more to use than my hand, but I’ve no wish to do that in any event,” Wesley’s eyes clouded with what Angel knew were memories of his father, “let us see if pleasure will do the trick. When yeel eel ready to be truly obedient, you may say so, but until then, I want nothing from you but the odd anguished moan.” Wesley’s blue eyes glinted. “Moan for me now, Angel. What? You cannot? Here, let me help...”

Wesley bent down and ran his tongue around the head of Angel’s cock in a long, leisurely lick. Angel could have held back the moan that rose to his lips but he did not and Wesley smiled up at him. “That was very good,” he praised him. “I’m sure you’ll be telling me you’re ready any moment now.”

Without waiting for a response, he began to tease Angel with his mouth alone, pressing kisses and bites all over the body that lay spread out beneath him without ever going near Angel’s cock again.

It was torture, Angel decided some time later, through a haze of arousal so intens’d w’d well-nigh forgotten his own name. A fine sheen of sweat covered him and he was panting against the cloth that lay across his lips, damp now and limp, cloth he’d bitten at to hold back words Wesley had forbidden him to utter. So easy to give in, so tempting to say it, knowing that Wesley would release him, drive into him, let him come...

Then Wesley pulled the cloth from his face and kissed him, tongue dipping into his mouth, sweet, hard kisses, distracting Angel so that when Wesley’s finger brushed his erect length he wasn’t expecting it, wasn’t prepared, and he wrenched his mouth aside, hips jerking desperately. “Wesley – please! I’m ready - please...”

“Thank God for that,” Wesley said sincerely, reaching for the ties that bound him and giving Angel a final kiss. He freed Angel and smiled down at him. “I think you’ve lain like that for long enough, love. Turn over.”

Angel studied his face, looking for any sign that Wesley thought him weak. He found none. Love, yes, and an expectant gleam, but nothing else. With a sigh, he went to his hands and knees and waited for Wesley.

He didn’t wait long.