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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.

Arriving in Chicago
by The Brat Queen

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

Rated: NC-17

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

Thanks to: Wolfling for the beta read.

"I cannot believe you don't have a spare."

Angel got up from where he was examining the tire and looked at Wes over the trunk of the car. "Okay, remember how I didn't plan this trip?"

"Yes," Wes replied.

"And remember how we had that case?"

"Yes," Wesley told him, pulling a few tools out from their random bits of luggage.

"The one with the big demons?"

"Yes."

"And I had to put all those weapons in the trunk?"

Wes leaned against the car, folded his arms, and looked at Angel indulgently. "Yes."

"And I said I'd have to take things out to fit it all in?"

"Yes."

"And how that was the last thing we did before we had to run over to Cordy's?"

Wes rolled his eyes now. "Yes, Angel, I remember."

"Yeah, well, that'd be why I don't have a spare," Angel told him. He squatted back down to examine the hole in the tire. "This's big."

Wes's head appeared over the side of the car. Angel adjusted the flashlight so they both could see. "Oh dear. I don't think sealant will fix it."

"I don't think prayer could fix it," Angel replied. He got back up again, sighing. He looked down the stretch of highway. "Not that far to Chicago."

"You think we should go all the way there?" Wes asked. He was already undoing the chains that held his bike in place.

Angel shrugged, coming over to lend a hand. "Big enough town. Gotta have some 24 hour places. Plus anything we find on the highway's just gonna rob us and maybe leave us waiting until the sun comes up. Can't say I'm real big on that."

"Neither am I," Wes agreed. Together they guided the bike off of the trailer. "All right, then, on to Chicago and hopefully a tow truck which will come back here."

"And a hotel for me to wait in," Angel said, aware that it wasn't even midnight yet, but also aware of how slow service could be at that hour.

"And a hotel," Wesley amended. He looked through the trunk again. "Let's take some of the bags with us. I don't like the idea of what could happen if someone got ahold of our weapons."

"I can carry 'em," Angel said, slinging one of the bags over his shoulder. He glanced at Wes. "Um - you're not gonna make me - "

Wes smiled at him. "No. Tempting and hilarious as it is, I don't think you need to wear the spare helmet at this hour."

Angel grinned back. "Always knew you loved me."

Wes leaned over, brushing a kiss against his mouth. "Was there ever any doubt?"

The somewhat familiarly named Wyndham Hotel was fairly quiet by the time Wesley and Angel arrived in it. It had taken hours to get to the city, find an open garage, and take care of having them fix the car. By sheer luck, the punctured tire had apparently been a forewarning of engine trouble, and Angel had refused to leave the car in the garage until he could pop the hood and confirm the problems himself. Wesley had somewhat doubted that Angel was that mechanically knowledgable, but it made the vampire happy so he went along for the sake of peace.

The mechanics had promised the car back in a few days, and Wesley and Angel had loaded themselves up on the bike and driven until they found a hotel that seemed suitable.

"The Host was right," Wesley said as they entered the hotel with perhaps a quarter of an hour to spare before sunrise. "We should have gotten a membership with AAA."

"He doesn't drive," Angel pointed out. "What does he know?"

"He's prescient," Wesley replied, nodding a greeting to the front desk clerk, "I think his advice in those matters can be trusted. Yes - hello, a room for two, please? Smoking."

Angel flashed Wesley a quick smile for the request.

Wesley gave him one back, then fished out his credit card. "I suppose we'll be here until the car is fixed at least."

Angel shrugged, leaning against the registration desk. "You wanted to see the city. There's stuff to do. And I can handle myself."

Wesley nodded, knowing that Angel was referring to his ability to find a blood supply. He couldn't resist giving Angel an arched look. "But will you?"

Angel grimaced, irritably. "Wes - "

Whatever he was about to say, however, was interrupted by a shout from somewhere behind them. "Wiz? Jesus Christ, is that you?"

Wesley frowned in puzzlement, turned, and found himself engulfed in a bear hug. "Er - "

"Wiz, it is you!" there was a heavy thump on Wesley's back, and then the hugger let him go and smiled at him. "Fuck me - what the Hell are you doing here?"

Wesley blinked, adjusting his glasses. He made a quick motion to Angel to let him know everything was all right, then smiled at the man. "Andrew! I could say much the same. I thought you lived in - "

"Florida," Andrew supplied. He put his hands into his coat pockets, rocking on his feet in a relaxed manner. "Yeah, I'm on vacation. Just guess what for."

In his somewhat sleep-deprived state, Wesley knew he didn't have a chance. "I've no idea, I'm afraid. Visiting relatives?"

"Nah," Andrew said, shaking his head with a grin. "C'mon, Wiz, don't you remember? The ballpark tour! I'm hitting the classics. This week - Wrigley Field."

A memory clicked into place. "Oh yes," Wesley said. "Well - certainly took you long enough, didn't it? I remember you talking about that back in - "

"There's a baseball team in DC?" Angel asked. His voice was quiet, but strong enough to buy him an entry into the conversation.

Andrew frowned at Angel. "I'm sorry?"

"There a baseball team in DC?" Angel asked. When Wesley shot him a quizzical look, he didn't back down but added: "I saw you there. About a week and a half ago."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Wesley asked.

Angel shrugged. "Didn't know you knew him."

"Baltimore Orioles," Andrew replied. "I took in a game, figured I'd hit DC while I was in the area."

"Oriole Park isn't a classic," Angel said.

"How would you know?" Wesley asked.

"I know some history," Angel replied, still looking at Andrew.

Andrew glanced back and forth between them,then did his best to reply. "Okay, yeah, built in '92 but come on - all the stylings of Fenway and Ebbets Field, plus it's the birthplace of Babe Ruth. Gotta pay your respects, right?" Andrew freed a hand, holding it out in greeting. "Andrew Egan. I take it you're a friend of Wiz's?"

"Of Wes, yeah," Angel replied, not moving a hair.

"Forgive me," Wesley said, shooting Angel another glare, "I've forgotten my manners. Angel, this is Andrew Egan, an old friend of mine from university. Andrew, this is Angel, my - " Wesley paused for a moment, then thought Oh what the Hell? " - my lover."

Now Angel managed a smile, and shook Andrew's hand. "Pleased to meet you."

Andrew, much to Wesley's relief, didn't miss a beat. "Likewise. Hey - guess you two were in DC, huh? Too bad I didn't see ya. We could've hooked up." He turned back to Wesley. "Look - I've gotta motor for a meeting. But are you staying long? We should hit the town."

Wesley glanced at Angel, who shrugged. "We'll be in town for a few days, yes. Perhaps dinner tonight? If you don't mind something a bit late? Angel and I are absolutely exhausted and - "

"Say no more," Andrew said, clapping Wesley on the arm. "How about nine? I know this great bar two blocks north of here. Ryan's. Great food, good Irish music - "

"I could cope with Irish music," Angel said.

"Perfect," Andrew said. He stepped back, miming a gun shot at the both of them. "See you then?"

"Two blocks north, Ryan's, yes," Wesley smiled, then signed for his room key.

" - and then he says," Andrew broke off for a moment, trying to control his laughter. He wiped his eyes, then continued in what Angel had to admit was a fairly passable parody of Wes's accent. "I beg your pardon, madam -"

"You just revel in telling this story, don't you?" Wes interjected.

Andrew nodded, continuing as though there had been no interruption. He punctuated his words by slamming his hand down on the table. " - but I am a wizard and I cannot feel my lips."

Angel found himself laughing right along with the two of them. "'I cannot feel my lips'?"

"Long story," Wes said, trying to avoid the conversation by sipping his beer.

Andrew wiped his eyes again, signaling for the waiter to come over. "'Long story'? Long story is how you managed to keep your dad from finding out you were such a stoner."

Angel shot Wes a questioning look.

Wes rolled his eyes, then spoke behind his beer bottle, vamp-soft. "I wasn't. Suffice it to say you aren't the only person at this table who has had an adverse reaction to Calynthia powder."

"Ahh," Angel replied, for Wes's ears only.

"Yeah," Andrew said, turning back to face them again. "So we called him Wiz - " Andrew pronounced the nickname with that slight parody of the accent again, making it sound like a slurred form of "Wes" " - ever since."

Angel looked at Wes. "So should I - "

"Not if you ever wish to touch me again," Wes immediately replied.

Angel grinned. "Got it."

"Hey guys, dinner's on me," Andrew said when the waiter appeared. "So order up."

"That's very kind," Wesley said. "I'll have the bacon cheeseburger with fries. And another beer, please."

"Should we just get a pitcher?" Andrew asked.

Wes nodded. "That might be best."

"Pitcher of beer, keep 'em coming," Andrew said. "And throw a T-bone my way, medium. Angel?"

"Oh I'm not - " Angel started, then caught Wes's look " - uh, gonna rest until I try the steak. New York strip? Rare? Like really rare. Just scare it with the fire and then bring it out."

"Man who knows what he wants," Andrew nodded appreciatively.

"Guess so," Angel said. He thought about taking a sip of his own beer. "So you went to Oxford? No offense but you don't exactly sound -"

"Smart?" Andrew suggested.

"I was going for British," Angel replied.

"I'm not," Andrew said. "Or, at least, not officially. Grew up in the States. But I'm a Brit on my mom's side."

"Andrew's mother hails from Sheffield," Wes explained.

"Oh yeah?" Angel said. "Good eating there."

Andrew frowned. "Really? Never thought so myself."

Once again Wes shot him a look. Angel tried to give a non-chalant shrug. "Guess maybe it depends on your diet."

"So what are you doing these days?" Wes asked, smoothly steering the conversation over to better topics.

"Working for the Herald," Andrew said. "Sports beat. You?"

"Private investigator," Wesley told him. "Out in Los Angeles."

"Wes runs the agency," Angel said, not bothering to hide his pride.

"Good for you," Andrew said. He moved aside as the waiter brought over the pitcher of beer and three glasses. "So you didn't end up going into your dad's business?"

Wes cleared his throat. "I attempted it. It didn't work out."

"You know Wes's dad?" Angel asked.

"Met him once or twice," Andrew replied. He turned back to Wes. "Hey - didn't I hear something about you being engaged?"

Wesley chuckled and made a gesture in Angel's direction. "Yes. As you can see that worked out spectacularly as well."

"Gee, thanks," Angel said.

Wes put his hand over Angel's, squeezing it. Angel felt a world of anger melt away with the gesture. "I meant with her, wanker."

"Just checking," Angel replied. He wondered how long the touch might last. He got his answer when the food came over and Wes let go to put a napkin in his lap.

"So who was it?" Andrew asked.

"Sarah Davis," Wes said, giving his food a wistful look that Angel knew meant he wanted some vinegar for his fries. "I don't suppose you - "

"Oh yeah, Sarah," Andrew said, as the name clearly rang bells for him. "Wow, you two were that serious?"

Wes shot an uncertain look in Angel's direction. "Er - yes. For a time. Then we - well, one's life is never predictable."

"So what did it?" Andrew asked, cutting into his steak. "You break up with her or -"

"Let's just say," and now the look Wes shot Angel was brimming with humor and affection "that there was someone else."

Angel smiled back at him, brushing a hand over Wes's before attempting to try to eat his own dinner.

"So what's your dad up to?" Andrew asked around a mouthful of food.

"Retired," Wesley replied. He looked around and Angel wordlessly handed over the bottle of ketchup. Wes gave him a look of thanks before continuing. "He travels a bit, spends time with his friends from work, that sort of thing. And your parents?"

"Same," Andrew dumped spoonfuls of sour cream onto his baked potato. "Dad's hitting the greens like no tomorrow and Mom's been doing some traveling."

"Good golf, down in Florida," Angel offered.

"You play?" Andrew asked.

"Nah," Angel replied. "I watch. Sometimes. On TV."

"Where does your mum go?" Wesley asked.

"She just got back from a big family reunion," Andrew said. "I had to pass. I already saw too much of Aunt Gretchen and cousin Roddy back at Christmas. You gonna finish those fries, by the way?"

"Go right ahead," Wes said, turning his plate around so Andrew could take some. "Lord, I haven't thought about Roddy since - well it must be easily ten years now. No - wait, I remember. The Christmas game with - "

"Cambridge!" Andrew finished, popping some of Wes's fries into his mouth. "In the rain with - "

"- Roddy complaining the entire time about the poor conditions - "

"- when all he really wanted to do was go home early -"

"- so he could shag Allison -"

"- before Trudy came home - "

"As though Trudy didn't know," Wesley scoffed.

"She knew?" Andrew asked, another fry halfway to his mouth.

"How could she not?" Wesley asked. "It was practically in the bloody paper! Especially after they nearly got caught in the bathroom of Sticky Fingers the week before."

"Where was I?" Andrew wondered.

Wes chuckled. "Drunk off your ass, as usual."

"Speaking of which," Angel said, "anybody mind if I finish the beer?"

They dropped Andrew off on the fifth floor of the hotel, then rode up to the 20th in silence.

Or at least until the 7th floor.

"What?" Angel finally asked.

Wes blinked at him. "Pardon?"

Angel gave him a look. "You're thinking loud."

Now Wes was frowning. "I'm what?"

"You're thinking too -"

"So you're completely drunk I take it?"

The elevator pinged open on their floor. Angel held his hand out to keep the doors open as Wesley passed. "I'm not drunk. You know I can't get drunk off of that much beer."

"Much though you gave it your best attempt," Wes pointed out.

"Not saying I didn't," Angel replied. "Now cut it out."

"Cut what out?" Wes asked, fishing for his keys. "Thought? Angel I'd be delighted to accommodate if not for the fact that we both agreed that I shall never again die or go into a coma. Now what are you going on about?"

"You've got that look," Angel said, leaning against the doorframe as Wesley undid the locks to their room.

"That look," Wes repeated. He clicked the lights on to their room and threw his coat down on the wholly unnecessary second bed. "Which would be...?"

"The one that says you're thinking something," Angel replied, hanging his own coat up in the closet.

He heard Wes snicker. "Admit to me that you're at least a little tipsy - "

"I do not get tipsy," Angel told him.

"Of course not," Wes said, in his "I am humoring my prat of a lover" tone. "In which case, my incredibly sober companion, yes, I am thinking something."

"Ha!"

Wes smiled. Angel liked that smile. "Come and sit beside me and I'll even tell you what."

"Was going to sit beside you anyway," Angel declared. He came over to the bed and sat behind Wes. He wrapped his arms around Wes's chest, his hand over Wes's heart. "So - what are you thinking?"

"You don't like him," Wes replied.

"Who?"

"The Mayor of Los Angeles," Wes shot back. "Who do you think? Andrew."

"Oh," Angel said, with exagerrated understanding. "Yeah. Andy. Good old Andy."

"You hate him."

Well if Wes was going to be so smart and figure it out and all. "Bingo."

Wes laughed, turning around to face him. "What on earth for? He's an old friend."

"That'd be a reason," Angel said. He lay back on the bed, his head propped on his hands. "Where was he when you got fired, huh? The first time, I mean. With the Council. Not me. Except, yeah, also when I fired you too and okay maybe I'm a little buzzed but the point -"

"Yes?" Wes prompted, starting to unbutton Angel's shirt when the vampire trailed off.

Angel reached up, caressing Wes's arm with a single hand. "Point is, I don't remember any of your friends helping you out when you needed it."

Wes regarded Angel curiously. "And that's why you don't care for him? Because we grew apart, as friends do?"

Angel hoped Wes wouldn't notice the split second of hesitation. "Sure."

"Angel."

Damn. "What?" Angel asked, sitting up to ease the process as Wesley tugged his shirt off of him. "I don't like your old friends because they suck and that's no reason for me to be jealous."

Wes paused, an eyebrow quirked as though he wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "To be what?"

Angel decided to go for full-on denial. "I didn't say that out loud."

"Yes, you did," Wes told him. He pushed him back onto the bed, then straddled his hips. "I should get you drunk more often. Apparently it makes you chatty."

Angel put an arm over his eyes, groaning. "I don't wanna talk. I never wanna talk. Can we skip ahead to the good part?"

"Are you sober enough for the good part?"

Angel moved his arm back down. "He bugs me, okay?"

"But why?" Wesley asked.

"I dunno," Angel admitted. "Just - a feeling."

Wes sat forward and ran his hands over Angel's chest. The touch was relaxing in spite of the conversation. "A feeling. Like jealousy."

"Yeah," Angel said. He put his hands over Wesley's. "I see him near you and I - I wanna do something violent."

"He's no more than a friend," Wes assured him.

"Was he always?"

"I'm not sure I understand the question."

Fair enough. Angel wasn't totally sure of it himself. "Was he - did you ever want him to be - "

Wes sat forward and brushed his lips over Angel's. "No. Never. Angel, it's only ever been you."

"That's bullshit, Wes," Angel replied. He caressed Wesley's cheek, the touch removing any sting from the words. "I love you but - I didn't make you like guys. You always did. And there had to be somebody, somewhere that - "

"No one that mattered," Wes said.

Angel thought about bringing up the crush on Gunn but figured they had enough on their plates. "But, Wes, what if there was some guy, some - "

"What?" Wesley asked. He put his hands down on either side of Angel's head, turning Angel's entire world into a pair of stunning blue eyes. "What if there was? Angel, think logically. Even if there had been I am still here with you. Clearly you're the winner."

"Love's not logical," Angel complained, much as he wanted to believe this. "And if there was some guy you cared about, some mortal guy who -"

Wes clamped a hand over his mouth, shutting him up. "Angel, listen to me very carefully. I. Want. You. None other. You, as you are."

But I'm a vampire, Angel wanted to say, but couldn't while Wes effectively gagged him. Or maybe he didn't have the courage to turn his face two inches and say it out loud.

Regardess, Wes seemed to get the idea. "I fell in love with you as you are. I love you now as you are. I want no other."

Finally Angel ducked his head. "What if I was mortal?"

Something flicked in Wes's eyes and Angel wished he was smart enough to know what it was. "I love you," Wesley repeated. "I accept you. Angel - why isn't that enough?"

Oh crap.Now he'd taken a severely wrong turn at Wes's insecurities.

"It is," he told Wes, holding him tight. "Wes - I swear, it is. That's the point. You deserve somebody who's worth that. Somebody who doesn't -"

"I want you," Wesley said, his voice rough. "If you want to make me happy, give me you. I want you."

And so you make love with a killer, Angel thought, but once again was too weak to shove Wes away like he was supposed to. Instead he sat up, licking Wes's lips, then kissing him. "Love you, Wes. Swear to God I love you so much it hurts."

"I don't mean to cause you pain," Wes replied, his mouth meeting Angel's in tiny kisses and bites.

"Not all pain is bad," Angel told him. He gave up on wondering where the words came from at times.

He rolled over, pinning Wes underneath him. Wes's cock was hard and it took only a tiny movement of Angel's hips to start a frustrating sword fight between the both of them. Wes hooked a leg over Angel's thigh and increased their rhythm, groaning. "Want you."

"Same here," Angel told him. He made quick work of Wes's shirt, running his hands down that perfect bare chest before trailing patterns over it with his lips.

"You haven't eaten yet," Wes pointed out. A hand tangled in his hair. "Do you - there's - "

Game face required no thought at all. He met Wes's eyes with his own golden ones. "I want to eat in."

Wes swallowed. He didn't flinch. Instead, he rocked into Angel. "Please."

Angel smiled, moving his mouth up to Wes's neck. He teased him with the fangs. Warning bells rang so loudly in his mind that they were deafening, but he didn't care. This was love. This is what he craved. Love that came in blood and come and gasps of breath. It was the only kind that, deep down, he understood.

And it was Wes's love for him.

"Can you," Wes was whispering. A hand wormed its way between them to stroke Angel's cock through his jeans. "Can you - god, Angel -"

"What?" Angel asked, pinching one of Wes's nipples as he continued to torment them both with the thought of him drinking. Hunger licked through him like lightening, making his nerves pulse in time with Wes's heartbeat.

"Be in me," Wes finally managed, through rapid, shallow breaths. "When you - when you drink."

"Love to," Angel told him. He pulled back, hearing Wes's sound of disappointment, but assuaging it when he only moved away enough to take off the rest of his clothes. Wes's soon followed, and it was a willpower born of he knew not what that kept him from ripping the few clothes Wes had right now.

Wes, bless him, had in the meanwhile scrabbled around to find lube.

Angel coated his fingers, then slid them inside of Wesley, loving the tiny gasp that Wes couldn't control whenever Angel's hand hit him just so. Angel repeated the gesture, unable to tear his eyes away from Wes's body if his soul depended on it. He felt the world slow down, holding still at just this moment, a perfect portrait of what life with Wes had become. No longer a cruel game of self-denial, of Wes's fears and his own self-loathing. Instead it was this. This partnership. This give and take that worked, and continued to do so, in spite of Angel's fears about it.

Wes looked back at him, and for that moment it seemed that there was understanding.

Angel pulled his hand out, lifting Wes's legs so that he could replace his fingers with his cock, thinking back again to the first time they'd tried this with Wes so hurt it'd taken vamp strength to hold back and keep from tearing Wes's stitches again. Which was itself such a marked contrast from the old days when tearing out the stitches would've been a bonus, the scent of blood and pain and misery nothing but a turn-on.

He didn't want Wes to be miserable.

He moved forward, kissing his lover. Wes kissed back, unafraid of the fangs. Tiny drops of blood escaped Wes's lips and tongue and Angel tasted them with jolts of pleasure like fingertips on his cock. He began to thrust into Wes properly, getting that nice, steady rhythm that could make you come or keep you tormented for hours. Wes met him expertly, all traces of the nervous lover he'd once been completely gone, and Angel lost his ability to guess which one of them was going to lose it first.

"Love you," he told Wes.

"Want you," Wes replied, and it was exactly the right thing to say.

Angel bent down, gently kissing Wes's neck before sinking fangs in. Wes gasped, jerking up into him, then began to whimper with pleasure. A hand tangled absently in Angel's hair, holding him still as he drank.

"Please...." Wes whispered. "Angel, please."

Talking would mean he had to stop drinking. He didn't do that. He couldn't do that. Wes's hot, human blood was filling his mouth, making him drunker than any alcohol could ever hope to and in his already intoxicated state Angel laughed, thinking of how his life had never changed. He'd simply exchanged one drinking problem for another, and he was too much of an addict now to quit.

He fucked Wes, getting his cock in properly, hitting Wes with those good, hard thrusts that made Wes's moans more high-pitched, and needy. His own cock throbbed but he held back, not wanting to lose this pleasure world of blood and sex and Wes. He liked this place. He wanted to stay in it forever.

Wes clung to him tightly enough that he knew Wes loved it too, and he thought to himself that maybe this could be the world they lived in. Just the two of them, just this moment. Nothing else.

Love you, Angel wanted to say. He spoke the words in kisses and tender flicks of his tongue along Wes's bleeding flesh. Wes moaned, loud enough for his whole body to vibrate and torment Angel's cock. Angel fucked him harder in thanks and soon the world narrowed even more, turning into nothing but Wes's ass tight around his cock, his blood coating Angel's mouth and lips, his hands clawing at Angel's back as though he could tear the pleasure right out of him, and Wes himself gasping and pleading and begging for Angel to please, fuck him, please, don't stop, Angel, darling, so good, Angel, God, please -

And then bang! Shuddering and coming and Wes practically screaming and it all feeling so damned good that the world really did fade away, and the universe with it, and Angel couldn't tell how long it took for it all to come back.

When it did, he was still balls-deep inside of Wesley, although they'd rolled over, and Wes was now lying beside him.

Wes caressed his cheek. He looked paler, but he was fine. Angel hadn't taken enough blood to hurt him. A glass of orange juice and an iron supplement and he'd be good as new.

Angel's head was swimming. He felt warm, and alive.

"I love you," Wes told him.

"I love you too," Angel said. And then reality returned and he felt terrified.

Fin.