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Disclaimer: The following is a non-profit, amateur effort not intended to infringe of the rights of Joss Whedon, the WB, Mutant Enemy or any other copyright holders of Angel.

A New Direction
by The Brat Queen

Spoilers: Up to Epiphany, after which Joss and I go separate ways.

Rated: PG

Summary: Angel and Wes's relationship hits a fork in the road. (Part of the Epiphany series, takes place after "Washington, DC")

Thanks to: Mer & Wolfling for the beta read.

"Wake up."

"Don't wanna."

"Up. Up. Up," Wes punctuated each word with a light jab to Angel's ribs. "It's noon for God's sake."

Angel blindly pointed in the direction of the windows. "Daylight." He then pointed to himself. "Vampire."

"Hungry," Wesley shot back. He modified his touch to a light, teasing one over Angel's bare chest. "Come now. Surely you're not as tired as all that?"

Angel burrowed under the pillows. "Want to sleep. Service. Room."

"Pardon?"

Angel made a gesture to indicate Wes could feel free to scramble the words however he needed in order for them to make sense.

There was a pause before Wes answered. "I could order room service, yes, but - "

Angel moved a pillow aside and looked at Wes blearily. "But?"

"Andrew invited me - us - to lunch," Wes said. An apology was already lurking in the back of his eyes.

"Okay," Angel said. He went back under the pillows again.

"You're right," Wes said. "I'll tell him some other time. Or dinner, perhaps. It's not - "

Angel caught Wes's hand and kissed it. "I said okay. Go on. Have fun. Bring me a roll or something."

Wes moved the pillow aside and looked at him quizzically. "You hate rolls."

"I also hate Andrew," Angel said, "doesn't mean you shouldn't have lunch with him. Go. I'll be fine."

"You mean more to me," Wes said. "You're aware of that, yes?"

Angel looked up at him. "Wes, I know. Seriously. Go. I'm not jealous, I'm not pissed, I'm just... tired."

That got him a frown of concern. Wes's fingers caressed Angel's forehead as though checking for fever. "If you're not well I should stay."

"If I'm not well I should stay in," Angel said. He met Wes's eyes. "Considering."

"Angel - "

"Me and a bed, Wes," Angel promised. "Maybe some TV or a shower. Won't leave. Won't do anything stupid. I swear it."

"You shouldn't be alone," Wesley insisted.

"Then come back to me soon," Angel said. He kissed Wes's hand again. "But don't stay here all cooped up. I'm the vamp, Wes, not you. Go out into the sun for a little while, okay? It'll make me feel better. Even if it's with Andrew."

The last was said with a slight grin. It was enough to win Wes over. "All right. But you're to ring me at once if something goes wrong."

"Cross my heart," Angel said, miming the gesture in question. "Now kiss me and get out of here."

The kiss was quick. Angel was halfway back to sleep by the time Wes's mouth pulled away.

"Love you," he murmured. Or maybe Wes did. Or maybe it was both of them.

"You're not awake."

Angel looked up at Wes, who was straddling his waist. "Didn't we already cover that?"

"Just so long as it's understood," Wes said. He was wearing a tight burgundy shirt that he didn't actually own but Angel had often thought about buying for him. He wondered why he hadn't bought it yet. It matched Wes's faded jeans beautifully. "I don't want there to be secrets between us."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Angel scoffed.

Wes chuckled in turn. "Yes, it is rather funny isn't it?"

"You of all people," Angel replied.

Wes's eyes darkened. "Let's not talk about that."

"What do you want to talk about then?" Angel asked.

Wes leaned forward. His hands caressed Angel's bare chest. "Us."

"So I've gotta ask," Andrew said as he buttered a roll.

Wesley put down his water and regarded Andrew curiously. They were at a small Italian café, where Andrew had asked to meet for lunch. It wasn't far from the hotel, and Wesley had managed to find it easily.

After, of course, stopping by at a store to pick up a turtleneck.

"Ask...?" Wesley prompted.

Andrew took a bite of his roll, then put it down, chewing. "The gay thing."

Wesley sighed. He'd been expecting "the gay thing". In point of fact he was surprised it hadn't come up the night before. Perhaps Andrew had been kindly waiting to get him alone. "Yes?"

Andrew shrugged. "How long?"

"My entire life, one presumes."

Andrew waved that off. "I know that. Christ, Wiz, I live in Miami. Can't get gayer than that without hitting the Village or Frisco. I meant how long have you known?"

"Ah," Wesley said. He speared a tortellini before answering the question. "A few years now. Since I moved to Los Angeles."

"Tell your folks?" Andrew asked.

Wesley shook his head. "No."

Andrew nodded, as though he understood. "Got it. Won't mention it to the gang then."

"Thank you," Wesley said. He hesitated. "Er - you don't seem terribly surprised about it."

Andrew used a spoon to twirl spaghetti around his fork. He gave Wesley a sympathetic look. "No offense, Wiz, but we figured you knew."

Wesley felt that sinking feeling that he always got when thinking about this. "Oh."

Andrew held up an apologetic hand. "Not that we cared! I mean come on. We were friends with Eddie for God's sake."

"Some of your best friends are gay?" Wesley asked, a cool note sneaking into his tone.

"You know I don't mean it like that, Wiz," Andrew said.

"Well you were hardly close friends with Eddie."

"Eddie was an asshole!" Andrew replied. "He still owes me for that time I helped him make rent! But that doesn't mean I gave a shit that he was gay!"

Wesley put his fork down, feeling some of the wind get knocked out of his sails. "You're right. I'm sorry. It's - I haven't spoken with anyone about this. From before I moved to LA - " Wesley suddenly felt the huge line of demarcation in his life that was "before" and "after" LA. "I'm not used to it. I'm sorry."

"I'm the first?" Andrew smiled. "Thanks. How am I doing?"

"All right so far," Wesley told him. "Much as I can judge these things since I've nothing to compare it to."

"Is Angel your first?" Andrew asked, dipping his roll into his marinara.

A faint smile touched Wesley's lips. "The first who mattered."

"So you two are - " Andrew made a circling motion with his fingers. "Together?"

"He's my partner," Wesley explained. "Er - there's been no official commitment but - well, yes. I'm with him."

Andrew sat back. "Interesting."

"I don't wanna talk," Angel said. "Do we have to?"

Wesley chuckled. "You sound like a two year old."

"Too much to hope that you're secretly a pedophile?"

"Oh is this what you'd rather be doing?" Wes asked. He rocked his hips in an experienced motion. Angel felt himself get hard underneath him. "Hmm? Speak up."

"You know I want you," Angel said. He ran his hands up Wes's thighs. "God, Wes, I always want you."

"Naturally," Wes agreed with a smug smile. "I'm the man of your dreams."

"Do we have to get stuck on the literal now?" Angel asked. "'cause I'm thinking this has all the hallmarks of a really good wet dream and I don't even have to wash the sheets when we're done."

"Spoiled creature," Wes said affectionately. He leaned down and teased Angel's mouth with a kiss. "Decadent to the end."

Angel shivered. "No. No, I'm not."

Wes's eyes softened. "Angel, it doesn't - "

Angel clamped his hand over Wes's mouth. "Shut up," he hissed. "Just - shut up. You're - "

"Not real?" Wesley asked, turning his head away and brushing a light kiss over Angel's fingertips. He sighed. "Angel, darling, that of all things hardly matters."

Angel looked away. The hotel room looked gray, as though it were late on a winter afternoon.

"I love you," Wes murmured, right into his ear, and Angel felt himself melting at the words as he always did. "Please - you must understand that."

"Understand?" Angel laughed, turning back to face him. "That you love me? This? No. Believe it maybe, but never understand it."

Wes looked on the verge of tears. "Angel, please. You don't understand."

"No, I don't," Angel agreed. He sat up, grabbing Wes by the wrists. "Wesley, why aren't you somewhere else? Why aren't you off with this guy, or some other guy, or some one like you're supposed to?"

"This is where I belong," Wesley said, his blue eyes solid on Angel's. "No where else. No one else."

Angel swallowed. "No."

"Yes," Wesley replied. He twisted his hands to hold Angel's. Angel was surprised to find him trembling. "Angel, I'm begging you. You cannot question this."

"I will question this," Angel snapped. "Wesley, I could kill you."

"You won't," Wesley said.

"You don't - "

"You won't," Wesley repeated.

Now it was Angel's turn to shiver. His eyes narrowed and he studied Wes closely. "Wes, what the Hell - "

Wes responded by shaking his head mutely.

"If I'm not going to kill you and this isn't somehow a happy thing...." A pit of cold settled into Angel's stomach. "Jesus. Wes - what is this? Tell me. How do I stop it?"

"You can't."

The flush of pride that Wesley felt at being able to say the words faltered. "Pardon?"

"Oh nothing," Andrew said. He took a sip of his wine. "I just wouldn't have pegged him as your type."

"You weren't wholly certain I was gay," Wesley said, laughing. "How can you possibly know my type?"

"Hey, I never said I didn't know," Andrew pointed out, good-naturedly. "You didn't know. And yeah, I know your type. Does the name Judith ring a bell? How about Rita? And let's not forget Sarah - "

"All of whom I am no longer with," Wesley said. "And are female, I'd like to point out."

"Yeah, but there's a common theme," Andrew said. "Besides the female. And your guy, Angel -"

Wesley quirked an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Don't get me wrong," Andrew said, sitting forward again. "He's great, far as I can tell. I'm just saying that when you spend your whole life dating those bookish girls with the suits and those hoity-toity families that lowlifes like me weren't allowed to be introduced to -"

"That was never personal," Wesley told him, but Andrew waved it off immediately.

"Don't worry about it," Andrew replied. "I'm just saying - I know your personality type. And some big lug who doesn't talk much and who's - what? Eight years younger than you isn't - uh, Wiz?"

Wesley shook his head, trying to dismiss Andrew's worry as he choked and sputtered on the water he'd been trying to drink. "Nothing," Wesley gasped, still laughing. "I'm all right, truly. He's - he's not that young."

"Okay," Andrew said, doubt clear on his face before he shrugged it away. "Still - just wouldn't have figured him to be your type, is all."

"Angel is my type, I can assure you," Wesley said, finally calming enough to try drinking his water again. "He is exactly my type."

"You sure?" Andrew asked.

"Wholeheartedly," Wesley replied.

"Then who am I to judge?" Andrew said. He held up his wine glass. "Mazel Tov. Here's hoping you two kids can make it work."

Wesley returned the toast with his water glass. "Thank you. I'm hoping to."

"Where is he, anyway?" Andrew looked around as though Angel might appear somewhere in the restaurant. "You know the invite was for the two of you, right?"

"Angel - er - " Wesley hesitated, realizing that a plausible long-term excuse for any mysterious absences might be necessary if Andrew was to be a constant companion for their stay in Chicago. Unfortunately, the reality of their situation provided an all too-easy one. "He's not well. Today - today wasn't one of his better days."

Andrew paled. "Oh my God, Wiz - he's not..."

Wesley frowned, momentarily at a loss. And then with a sick lurch of his stomach he remembered the sort of problems mortal lovers could have. "Oh - no. No, he isn't. He's - erm - negative. Clean. Healthy. This is - er - genetic. Got it from his mother. Different disease. More like lupus."

"He looks fine," Andrew said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"He is," Wesley said, stabbing another tortellini as though it were at fault for all their woes. "He will be. This is only a setback."

"Good luck," Andrew said.

Wesley swirled the tortellini around in the alfredo sauce, watching as it made circular patterns on his plate. He thought of the tension and worry that Angel hadn't been able to hide. "Thank you. I'm sure it will be fine."

"Bullshit," Angel said. "Wes - there's always a way to stop this. If we can avert more apocalypses than I can count -"

"Some things can't be stopped," Wesley replied. He looked defeated already. "Nor should they be."

Angel moved his hands up to Wes's arms, holding them tight. "We can. We will. We - we'll stop this whole damn thing, Wesley. We'll run away - "

"We're already running away," Wesley retorted.

"Then we'll stand still!" Angel shot back. "Wes, god-damn it I'm - I can't - nothing is going to happen to you, do you hear me?"

"We can only be still if we're dead," Wes told him. He touched Angel's check with gentle fingertips. Tears glimmered in his eyes. "We can only be still if we fail."

"We won't fail," Angel told him.

"No," Wesley agreed. "We won't. And that's the hard part."

"Wes, you are seriously scaring me," Angel said. He moved his hands down to Wes's waist, holding him as though he'd vanish like the dream he was.

Wes smiled at him. "You're not scared. So little terrifies you. You're not going to fail, Angelus, and I'm going to be so proud of you in the end."

Angel frowned. "Wesley - "

"It's me," Wesley said. "I'm the weak link. I always have been."

"Bullshit," Angel said at once. "You have never - "

"I am scared out of my damned mind!" Wesley snapped. "You don't know. You can't. You can only..."

"What?" Angel asked, when Wesley trailed off.

"Don't leave me?" Wesley begged. "Please? Please, God, no matter what - don't ever leave me."

"Jesus," Angel whispered. He wrapped his arms around Wesley. "Wes, baby, I promise. It'll be all right. I'll - I'll make it right. I'll fix it. I'll fix this."

Wes clung to him, relaxing only slightly at the words. "I'll miss you."

"Wesley, I am not going anywhere," Angel said.

"I know," Wes replied. He looked up at him. "You're right here."

"I'm not leaving you," Angel told him. "I - I won't run away anymore. Whatever this is we'll figure it out together, we'll - "

"Shh," Wesley said. He covered Angel's mouth in a kiss. "You're getting all worked up. Don't. We've only a little time left."

Angel became aware of a blinding shadow by the doorway. "Wesley..."

"You could stay here, of course," Wes admitted. "But I think we both know that you can't."

Angel looked the other way and saw a hazy light. The untouched space by the bed became smaller and smaller. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Stop it, if you like," Wesley said. "Of course that means stagnation. The status quo. That nothing shall ever - "

"Change," Angel murmured, finishing the sentence for him. He looked back at Wes. "This is it? The end?"

"It could be," Wes agreed. "If you let it."

"And if I don't?" Angel asked.

Wes smiled. "Then even you must know the opposite."

"I'm not noticing a door number three," Angel pointed out.

"There isn't one."

Angel concentrated, and sure enough everything stilled. Only he and Wes could move. "Wes - is this what you want?"

Wesley shook his head. "There's no want, Angel. Only survival."

"You have to have a want," Angel said. "You're here. You're telling me this stuff. There's got to be some message or meaning or - "

Wes silenced him with a light, lingering kiss. "This has meaning," Wesley told him. He cupped Angel's face in both hands. "That's your message. Don't forget this. And come back to me in the end." The corners of Wes's eyes crinkled as he smiled. "All right, admittedly that last one might be my own personal preference."

"I love you," Angel said. He kissed Wes, his own touch harder and more demanding. "Love you so damned much."

"A wordsmith to the very end," Wesley smiled. He rubbed the back of his fingers against Angel's cheek. "And don't forget that I love - "

"Don't," Angel said. He kissed Wes again to take the sting out of the rebuke. "Just - don't."

Wes sighed. "Then perhaps it's time to go."

"Guess so," Angel said. He kissed Wesley one last time. "I'll be back. For you."

Wes looked sad again. "Good bye."

"See you later," Angel insisted, then relaxed, letting the world start up again. He smiled, showing Wes that it was less than a cakewalk to let the haze and shadow completely engulf him.

Aloud, in the real world, Angel screamed.

TBC