Bite The Hand That Feeds

(characters: not mine, I'm just playing with them)

The humming of the machinery came to a grinding halt as the winch made a final turn and the coffin broke out of the surface of the water. Even so, it was difficult to see it through the thick layer of fog.

Wesley pulled a lever. The crane turned and dropped the long box onto the deck of the salvage ship with a heavy thud. Water splashed off its surface.

Forgetting about Justine, Wes leaned over the box, wiping away the remaining water and trying to see through the square piece of scratched glass as he shone a light on it. A face... that was all he could see, but not clearly enough to confirm it was Angel. Nor could he determine his condition.

The coffin was secured with thick chains. Mouth set in a rather grim line, Wesley took a sledge hammer to the padlocks, repeatedly bringing it down with the savage force of a man on a single minded mission. When the metal twisted and gave way, he pulled on the broken padlocks.

The staccato of links clanging together filled the quiet, as the chains unwound and slipped off the coffin.

Unable to open the lid with his hands, Wes drove a crowbar under it and put his weight on it. The lid rose. Taking advantage, he shoved it off to the side. “Angel.”

The pasty faced vampire remained motionless. Were all these months of searching for nothing? He wouldn’t have it.

Putting his arm under the vampire’s back, he lifted him up. “Blood,” he snarled. “Hurry up.”

An instant later, Justine dipped a cup into the bucket of pigs blood at Wesley’s feet, and gave it to him.

After the first scarlet drops touched Angel’s lips, his mouth parted. Wesley practically poured the liquid into him. “More.... hurry.” His eyes flashed with anger at the realization she was intentionally dawdling.

Three cups later, Angel was greedily sucking up the liquid. Pint after pint, until the bucket was scraped clean.

He needed more. Wes gripped Justine’s wrist and lifted it. Before he had her arm to the vampire’s lips, she started to struggle and produced a dagger. “Damnation... bloody bitch.” His backhand was more powerful than he thought, or she would do anything to get away from him. Either way, there was a splash from the side of the ship. He didn’t even bother to go check on her.

He picked up the dagger and forced its sharp blade into his wrist, tore a deep wound from his wrist up, making a face at the flash of pain. But he’d taken more pain than this... this was nothing.

“Angel...drink.” He pressed the wound to the vampires mouth.

Hands clamped around his wrist, then forearm. Wes was slightly taken aback by Angel’s strength. His heart sped up a notch, and then blinding heat burned into his flesh as the vampire mercilessly bit down and started to drag blood from his veins.

At first, there was only pain... pain that he stoically bore. Then something subtle changed. Something pulled at him, a dark force, seductive... powerful... all male, all demanding... closing in around him... in him. Every pull on his life blood dragged him deeper into the web, sent heat inching through his system. Desire of a sort he couldn’t put a name to. Every muscle in his body tensed... every part of him became more aware of his surroundings, of the wind scraping against his sensitive skin, of the soft firm lips lapping insistently. Of the suddenly excruciating ache between his legs.

He groaned in protest, his mind rebelling against the betrayal of his body. Still... his pants tightened across his pulsing cock, adding to the torture.

“Angel...” he begged, trying to pull his hand away. And when that wasn’t allowed... when he started to move against the side of the coffin, when images of Angel’s hand grasping his shaft, sliding back and forth, bringing him relief, became too much, he started to cry out. “For God’s sake... Angel... for God’s sake...”

Desire was a mind drugging curse. Wesley’s breath hitched. His heart pumped harder, pumped to serve Angel.... pumped to give life to the dead. It took over his body, his thoughts, his free will. “Angel.... for God’s sake–“

And then it came to a screeching halt. The vampire was no longer sucking. And yet Wesley found himself half sprawled over him, grinding his erection into the vampire's side.

Damnation... brown eyes were staring at him.

The burning pain of his flesh brought him around. Wesley scrambled off and started to take care of his wrist, studying Angel under his lashes.

“Getting off on a paralyzed man? Fallen pretty low, haven’t you?”

It wasn’t as if he’d expected a warm reception. “That’s old news. How are you feeling?”

“Awww, you care.” The vampire swung out of the coffin.

The sarcasm cut. Again, nothing he hadn’t anticipated. “I’ll... see you to your friends.” Wes started for the helm.

“Friends? You mean like you. Like Connor?” Angel spat, Wes’ blood trailed down the deck.

“Believe what you want. I did what I thought best.” He was in no mood to try to appease or explain. He’d get Angel to the people who cared about him and then go back to his solitary fight. It was easier than feeling the constant weight of damning eyes.

“Best... right... stealing a child was best...”

The only reason Wes turned was because of the sound of Angel’s knee hitting the coffin. Seeing Angel was shakier on his legs than he’d first seemed, he strode over. “I’ll help you to the bench. It shouldn’t take long for you to recover with a bit of–“

Before he could finish the thought, his arms were jerked up, a knee was jammed into his kidneys and a blunt force to his temple engulfed him in darkness.

*

When he came to, Wesley’s head was heavy... his eyes, bleary. His arms ached. Only when he looked up did he realize he was chained to the crane. “Angel?” he questioned softly. Did the vampire’s hate go this far ... did he intend to kill him even after he’d saved him from the cold depths of the Pacific?

“Angel has left the building.” A sharp smile marred Angelus’ face, as he came into view. “Come on Wesley, you didn’t really think a soul would have the guts to survive down there? He turned the controls over to me in eighteen days... what? I have an internal clock.”

Shock rocked Wesley to the core. Not fear for his own worthless hide, but for the others. He was doubly damned now.... first he’d taken the beloved son, and now he’d unleashed this nightmare on the world.


“Tsk, tsk... cat got your tongue?” Angelus walked up to Wes, so close, they were only inches apart. “No hello Angelus, missed you, let’s do lunch? No? How about a kiss then?” Gripping Wesley by his shirt, he took his mouth.

Rough. Possessive. Painful. Humiliating. Wes recognized it for what it was... a gesture to show him his place. He tried to pull his face away, and suddenly found a hand clamped behind his head. Now it became a kiss that punished.

Brutal as it was, Wesley found himself responding. Following Angelus’ tongue, groaning lightly as the vampire’s teeth scraped his mouth.

Angelus broke the kiss and licked his lips. “So it’s not just him you lust after.”

Breathing hard, Wes averted his eyes. “Just kill me... just get it over with,” he rasped.

“Oh...okay.”

Wes’ head jerked back as his windpipe was blocked off. Fighting for air, fighting with all he had, he jerked back and forth, his arms straining against the chains. A sticky wetness slid slowly down his arms. Blood. His... from the chains that cut into hm... that was his last thought as darkness started to swallow him.

“Aaaaann,” Angelus made the sound of a game show buzzer. “Come back, come back... wherever you are... oh good, you’re back.”

“Bloody bastard...”

“Ooh, blood.”

A wet tongue laved up Wes’ arm. He couldn’t help shuddering, or the fact he’d instinctively strained closer to Angelus despite the pain.

“Too late to take it back,” Angelus chided, running his tongue along every stream of red. “He knows.”

Another shudder. “Knows what?” Wes rasped. He really ought not engage in the vampire's mind games. He ought to know better.

“That you always watched him. That you wanted him.... wanted him to do this, didn’t you?” Angelus grasped Wesley hips and drew him up hard against his body.

Feeling the press of Angelus’ cock against his, Wes hissed and threw back his head, riding waves of pleasure that made his skin grow tighter by the second. “No. It’s the feeding that did—“ He lied through his teeth. He tried to hang on to his sanity when all he wanted to do was buck against the vampire.

“Liar.” The word was like the crack of a whip.

“Tell me you didn’t want him to kiss you the way I did... tell me, Wes. That he couldn’t smell your desire... that you didn’t turn to Lilah after seeing him shirtless.”

Wes closed his eyes. It was true. All of it. One day he’d caught himself watching Angel practice Tai Chi. The way his muscles rippled. The breadth of his shoulders. The way his sweats had crept down so low on his body, it left nothing to imagination. Only he’d imagined it... imagined him naked and pressing into him--shouting his name. And then Lilah had come along. Convenient. Eyes closed, he’d imagined Angel and done her over and over. All night long. No wonder she kept coming back for more.

“Wesley.... tell me you want it... tell me...”

Gritting his teeth, Wes refused to respond. But what he wouldn’t admit vocally, his body gave away. How could it not?

When Angelus moved away, he didn’t know whether to protest or be relieved. But it was only momentary, because suddenly the vampire was behind him. Cold hands dipped down the front of his jeans, and tugged him back hard against the vampire’s cock. “Fucking bastard...”

“Why... because you like it? Because you want me inside you? Huh, Wes... you want me to fuck you?”

“No.” Wes’ heart rammed against his chest as his fly popped open. He squirmed as his jeans were lowered. “No....”

“You don’t want this... well... I don’t believe you.”

And why should anyone believe him when he was rubbing his ass against the vampire, when he was practically tearing his arms out of their sockets, trying to get some more pressure. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please go away,” Wes begged, “Please don’t touch me,” he shuddered uncontrollably when Angelus' hand grasped his shaft. And then the protests were over. He was pleading... pleading to get fucked... pleading for more... pleading for the vampire to take him.

There was a chuckle. And then Angelus was pushing into him. No warning. No preliminaries. After a blinding flash of pain, Wes pushed back against the body behind him, and thrust into the hand wrapped around him. The vampire filled him completely, his powerful legs lifted him with every thrust. Every grunt, claiming him, every slide of his hand, spiking the pressure building inside Wes. He’d held back so long, the dam was about to burst.

“He would never do this with you. He was amused and ... well, embarrassed by your thoughts.”

Engulfed by burning pleasure, even the sharp and haunting words didn’t stop Wes from reaching his peak. From shouting his release. “Angel....”

Grinding into Wes a few more times, the vampire pulled out. “It’s Angelus. And if you want this again, you’d better think of some way to keep me here.”

As the haze of lust retreated from his mind, Wes asked, “What?”

“Angel. He’s in hibernation. If he comes back, he’s going to hate you even more.”

“Fuck you.”

*

Blinding light hurt his head... even with his eyes closed. Wesley finally managed to open them... no, just one of them. Angelus had worked him over. Why he hadn’t killed him for refusing to help keep him there was a mystery.

He didn’t know how long the torture had lasted. Eventually Angel’s soul regained control.

As he pushed himself up and leaned against a warehouse wall on the docks, the salvage boat came into view. Wes blinked.

No ‘thank you.’ No ‘sorry.’ No ‘can I help you?’

No. That wasn’t at all what the vampire said. Even if a lot was fuzzy, Wesley recalled coming round. Recalled finding himself laying on the deck, and Angel stepping right over his broken body, only to turn before stepping off onto the docks.

“Go home Wesley.”

That was it. Sometimes the line between Angel and Angelus was hard to find.

(If you enjoyed this, please comment. Thank you in advance :) )