Home / Fan Fiction / Angel / Epiphany / Sunday Interlude

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.

Sunday Interlude
by The Brat Queen

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

Rated: NC-17

Summary: Angel and Wesley enjoy downtime together.

"You see. Hopeless. Confusion would be rife, as one would put it. The only way out that I can think of is to ask the old gang to let their attention wander for a bit - there are heaps of things they can be doing: washing the car, solving the crossword puzzle, taking the dog for a run - while I place the facts before the newcomers."

Wesley paused, lowering his book. "You're bored, aren't you?"

Angel looked over at him from his position by the hotplate. "No. Why would I be bored?"

"It's not your style," Wesley said. He ran his thumb over the binding of the paperback, noting with satisfaction how smooth it had remained through the years. "You'd rather something else."

"I don't have a style," Angel said as he cracked eggs into a bowl and beat them with a fork. "And I don't want anything else. Keep reading."

Wesley grimaced as he saw that they were only on page nine. "We could watch a movie?"

"I don't have a VCR. Or a TV."

"There are movie theaters," Wesley pointed out, "in the Los Angeles area. One is allowed to see a film in exchange for a sum of cash. You're aware of cash?"

Angel responded by throwing a dish towel at him. Wesley caught it and placed it out of Angel's reach. "Yeah, I'm aware of cash. I'm also aware of sunlight -"

"Half the time."

Angel ignored him. "And of me being in the middle of breakfast here."

"We could go after," Wesley suggested. "Take the sewer?"

"I'm thinking I prefer how you smell now," Angel's hand paused over several bowls. "Ham or cheese?"

"Er - either," Wesley replied, watching as Angel added both. "We could do something else then?"

"Yeah," Angel said, pouring the mixture into a hot pan, "we could. And I'm kinda planning on it. After we eat. Right now I wanna hear your book. So keep reading. What's next?"

Wesley looked at him uncertainly, then turned back to the page. "Where were we?"

"Washing the car and crossword puzzles," Angel replied, lowering the heat. "Not that those make sense."

Wesley's heart sunk. He knew Angel didn't care for it. "It - it is farce. It's not meant to -"

Angel waved it off. "Nah, that's fine. I meant crossword puzzles."

Wesley blinked. "What?"

"Crossword puzzles."

"No," Wesley said, "I heard you. What about them?"

"They don't make sense," Angel flipped the omelet over with only a small spattering of egg.

"Well," Wesley said slowly, "they aren't supposed to, are they? Being puzzles, after all."

"I guess so," Angel said. He turned the omelet onto a plate and placed it in front of Wesley. "Here. Eat."

Wesley picked up his fork and then looked at his knife and his book awkwardly. Angel saved him by plucking the book from his hand.

"So is this you?" Angel asked, turning through the pages. "This your style?"

Wesley cut his food up and swallowed a few bites before replying, knowing that Angel would raise a fuss if he didn't. "It's - pleasurable."

Angel raised his eyebrows, taking that in. "'kay. Pleasurable. How come?"

"There are no demons," Wesley surprised himself by answering. "Demonic aunts, perhaps, but - the greatest trials in life are engagements or misplaced heirlooms. It's - comforting, after nights spent buried inside of books about prophecies of evil creatures who shall walk once more upon the earth for the sole purpose of bursting the eyes of every second born child."

Angel looked at him curiously.

"Thrapgar's Numerological Omens. Complete pap. Stupid bugger forgot about fives."

"Ah," Angel said, turning back to the book. "Makes sense."

A smile touched Wesley's lips. "Don't understand numerology either?"

"Never have, never will," Angel said. "You?"

Wesley shrugged, taking a sip of his tea. "It was an elective."

Angel smiled back at him. "Anything you don't know?"

Wesley felt himself blush, and fussed with his breakfast in the hopes of hiding it. "I - more than enough things, certainly."

Angel brushed his fingers against Wesley's cheek. "Seem smart enough to me."

"One - one would hope," Wesley stammered, focusing very intently on the pink squares of meat in his food, "if - if I am the man in - in charge of your business."

The world stopped as Angel kissed him. It stopped for several moments.

"Why'd that make you nervous, Wes?" Angel asked, his hand still touching his cheek.

"I - I don't know," Wesley admitted.

"Not that I don't think the stutter's cute."

Wesley gave in to the fact that Angel seemed devoted to making him blush.

Angel cupped his chin now, meeting his eyes. "But you're cute too. I like you, Wes. Love you." Angel held up the book in his other hand. "Farce and all."

Wesley chuckled. "Damned good thing, considering the comedy of errors that our lives seem to be."

There was a twinkle deep inside of those brown eyes. "Not romance?"

"That as well," Wesley said. He felt his heart speed up. He wondered if Angel could hear it.

Angel's hand moved back, trailing along Wesley's jaw. "Like romance. Like you. I mention that?"

Wesley licked his lips. "Y-yes."

There was a soft sound, not unlike a growl, as Angel's gaze dropped down to Wesley's mouth. "You done yet?"

Wesley looked at his nearly full plate of food. "Yes," he lied.

"Okay, you know I know you're making that up, right?" Angel said.

Wesley grinned. "Yes."

"Long as that's clear. Order you a pizza or something later."

"Or something," Wesley murmured, leaning forward and kissing Angel himself, noting with satisfaction the look of surprise on Angel's face as though he wasn't sure he'd heard him correctly. Wesley reached up, tangling a hand in Angel's hair and deciding he would prove the entendre true right then and there, as it needed to be.

It was - strange, to do this. To touch Angel like this, as though he had a right to. Part of him felt that somehow he lacked the correct papers, or permission. Hadn't gone through the proper channels in order to ascertain that yes, on this - or any other Sunday morning, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce was allowed to step up to the vampire named Angel, kiss him, and have whatever way he liked with his body.

And yet there was Angel, beside him. Touching him in turn with strong, sure hands which wrapped around him and made everything solid. Firm. Not only in the obvious, delightfully sexual sense, but in every sense. Angel was Angel. Angel was - right. Perfect. The thing which turned his life upside down and could only correct it again by being there.

Wesley loved him.

He moved down in Angel's arms, feeling bold enough to press Angel back against the hotel countertop before kneeling on the floor before him. He removed his glasses and slipped them into his trouser pocket. His hands now free, he touched Angel's legs, molding his fingers around the hard, long muscles and moving them upward to connect at the zipper in front of Angel's swelling erection.

"Wes…" Angel murmured.

Wesley kissed him, his lips tasting the fabric of Angel's jeans and just the faint tang of metal from the top button. He breathed in slow, deep breaths, letting them out in puffs of air sent through the folds of fabric, knowing that the quite intoxicating sensation to mortals was made even moreso on a vampire with room temperature skin.

Angel made a sound, this one quite like a growl.

Wesley unfastened the button, then pulled the zipper down. He slid his hand inside and felt the familiar form of - well there was no term better than Angel's cock. His hard, erect, already slightly wet at the tip, cock. Wesley drew it out, quickly licking his palm and fingers as he remembered to do so, then wrapped his hand around the base of Angel's erection and applied steady pressure as he moved his hand up and down the lengthening shaft.

"Jesus - Wes -"

Wesley didn't have much patience, however, and he soon leaned forward to kiss any place that his hand didn't cover - which was a more than generous area to work with. With his tongue he traced the veins that even vampires had and worked from base to end, groaning as he felt Angel - Angel - trembling in response.

"Love you. God I love you."

Angel's hand was at the back of his head, guiding him, quietly urging him to go forward, as though Wesley needed any encouragement. No. Not anymore. Not since learning of what it did to him, not since seeing the look in Angel's eyes when Wesley wrapped his lips around him. Wesley placed his free hand on Angel's hip, clutching it for support and feeling Angel's other hand caress it in turn. He swallowed, then wet his mouth as best he could before doing what he wanted - taking Angel into his mouth and manipulating him with suction, sound and tongue.

And teeth. Angel actually didn't mind teeth.

"Wesley."

The world could be damned here. Wesley didn't care. He - was Angel's. Here, on his knees, providing Angel with some form of pleasure however imperfect. Bringing joy, and kindness to Angel's life. Loving him, for whatever worth that love had to him. Being accepted by him. Cheered on by him. Knowing that Angel, if none other, believed in him.

"Oh God, Wes. So close…"

Wesley swallowed once, knowing the effect of the contractions, then again, readying himself. He relaxed, breathing carefully, and opened his jaw enough to take Angel in further, reciting the instructions Angel had given him in his mind as he stilled his gag reflex. He could not take Angel all the way, but he could take in more than he had. Once done, he allowed himself to groan again, feeling his own cock ache with need and wishing abstractly that Angel could touch him.

"Oh, fuck - Wesley."

He couldn't help but smile a little at Angel's words. Yes - fuck Wesley. Please. Touch him and take him with all the rights and permissions with which Wesley fucked you. He increased his suction, humming while he squeezed and stroked Angel's balls.

"Wesley - Jesus. Love you. Wes."

He came. Wesley gagged a little, but quickly recovered, swallowing down fluid which tasted like nothing else that he knew.

Angel's hand dropped to the back of his neck. "I love you. I - actually that covers it. I love you."

Wesley smiled again, resting his head against Angel's hip. "I love you as well."

Note: Story snippet from Jeeves and the Tie That Binds, by PG Wodehouse.