Part One: Mosaic
Part Two: Empty Spaces
Part Three: Renewal

 

RATING: PG-15. M/M Sexual Content

SUMMARY: Angel/Wesley. Wesley has psychological musings while in bed with Angel.
SPOILERS: Set early in Ats S5

DISCLAIMER: Not mine, just playing.
FEEDBACK: Please.
DISTRIBUTION: Quite possible. If asked nicely.

The mirrored tiles on the ceiling presented a mosaic of images for Wesley to consider. He saw a reflection of himself, lying on his back looking upward, fractured in spots and rearranged into a whole, but not the reflection of his lover lying face down on the bed next to him. Idly, he reached his arm out to stroke Angel's shoulder, but the mirror only revealed his hand tracing over empty air. At the touch of Wesley's hand, Angel stirred and rolled toward him.

What Angel thought about the mirrors, Wes didn't know. Angel had come upon him earlier in the week, standing on the ladder, affixing the last of the tiles with the special mastic, but had only leaned in the doorway, watching and saying nothing. Catching sight of him, Wes had paused briefly and waited, only to continue his work a moment later when he realized that Angel wasn't going to say anything.

It was hard to reconcile, Wesley decided. The mirror disconnected him from what his senses were telling him. He could smell Angel, and still taste him in his mouth. He could touch him and hear the sounds that Angel made when Wesley caressed him. And most perplexing of all, he could see him, his dark brown eyes, the way his hair curled at the nape of his neck, the expanse of muscular shoulder, the pale curve of his hip. But the reflection revealed none of those things. To the mirror, Angel was merely empty space.

"Wesley," Angel said quietly. Slowly, Wesley turned his gaze from the mirror to the man next to him. Angel regarded him thoughtfully. "I'm here. I'm not an illusion." Angel reached out and laid his hand on Wesley's stomach, slowly tracing the line of hair swirling down from his chest to his groin. "I'm here now."

"Yes you are," Wes said in a low voice. He smiled at Angel and reached over, threading his hand in the thick hair at the back of Angel's head to draw him closer. With a satisfied growl, Angel rolled and settled himself on top of Wesley, leaning in for a kiss that started out gentle but quickly deepened. Wes closed his eyes and relished the feel of Angel's body, cool and solid, covering him.

The taste of his mouth, the fluidity of his tongue as it claimed his own mouth. The scent of his arousal, the hardness of Angel's erection as it rubbed against his own. This, he thought, is no illusion. This is real. This is what I want. He moved his hands along Angel's arms, to the shoulders. Then slowly traced his way down his lover's back to the hips and thighs.

Eventually, Angel released Wesley's mouth and started trailing a line of kisses along Wesley's jaw, down his neck, and slowly worked his way across the collarbone to the hollow of his throat. Wes shuddered as the coolness of Angel's mouth left a trail of fire in its wake. He kept his eyes firmly shut and concentrated on the sensations. In his mind, he ran through the senses again, constructing a proof of sorts--the taste of Angel still lingering in his mouth, the sound of his murmured words against his chest, the smell of their mutual arousal, the feel of his body as it slid lower, down his chest, down the flat plane of his stomach.

Wes opened his eyes as Angel finally reached his cock. Through half-open eyes he watched him explore it thoroughly with his face and mouth and hands. Angel looked up briefly and smiled at him. Wes began to tremble. His breath was ragged and he desperately wanted to watch Angel in the mirror above him. But he didn't want to see the void in the reflection. Not now. Not when all of his senses were screaming that this was as real as it gets.

Convulsively gripping the sheets beneath him, he suddenly knew how to end the disconnect. Reaching down, he stroked Angel's hair and neck briefly, so that Angel's mouth continued its work and didn't stop, and then he grabbed the edge of the sheet and pulled it up over Angel. Opening his eyes and looking up, he saw the outline of Angel's body underneath the expanse of white cotton. Placing his hands on top of the sheet he traced the width of those broad shoulders under the smooth fabric, pulling it taut until he could see the muscles straining against the material. He saw Angel's bulk nestled between his legs, the curve of his spine as he knelt there, the shape of his head as it moved against the fabric. And with eyes wide open he exploded, watching the form of his lover continue to shift and pull against the sheet he held firmly in place.

At last, Wes let go of the fabric and closed his eyes once again. He sensed rather than saw Angel sit up, visualized the sheet sliding off of him in the process to pool at the foot of the bed. Wesley felt Angel's gaze move over his body, watching his limp form shudder with ragged breaths and tightly closed eyes. He heard the squeak of the mattress as Angel lowered himself back down next to Wes, turning and pulling him into his arms. They lay there together, quietly except for the sound of Wesley's breathing.

Wes lay there nestled against Angel's chest, with his head resting on one of Angel's arms and the other one wrapped around his waist. It felt solid, this presence beside him. Even with all his senses shifting back and forth, focusing on different tastes and smells and textures as the moments passed. But when he turned his head upward and opened his eyes to reassure himself, he found no comfort. He saw himself, alone and naked, curled next to an empty expanse of bed. It didn't matter which mirrored tile he looked at or how he tried to rearrange the image in his head. They all revealed the same mosaic of emptiness.

 

PART II

EMPTY SPACES

TITLE: Empty Spaces
AUTHOR: B Taylor
RATING: NC-17. M/M Sexual Content
SUMMARY: Angel/Wesley. Angel has psychological musings while in bed with Wesley. Companion piece to Mosaic. This tells that story from Angel s point of view.
SPOILERS: Set early in Ats S5
DISCLAIMER: They don’t belong to me; I’m just having a wee bit of fun.
FEEDBACK: Please.
DISTRIBUTION: Quite possible. If asked nicely.


Shadows rimmed Wesley’s bedroom, but the bed itself was surrounded by patterns of light. Angel preferred the darkness, but tonight, he had watched as Wesley quietly turned on the bedside lamps before climbing into bed next to him. The freshly mirrored ceiling caught the small amount of light and transformed it, sending it to dance across the expanse of crisp white cotton. Angel lay next to Wesley and watched the light fracture and reform on the bed before him.

When Wesley had switched on the first lamp, Angel had deliberately rolled to his stomach to avoid looking at the mirrors Wes had affixed above the bed. The fact he had no reflection did not bother him --after all this time he was used to it. It was Wesley’s sudden fixation on it that was a bit hard to take.

He had discovered Wesley methodically attaching the mirrors to the ceiling earlier in the week. He had waited for Wes to say something -- anything really -- about what was going on in that head of his. But his silent questions were met with Wesley’s bland regard, their eyes locking for a brief moment, before Wes resumed the task at hand. Angel had simply turned and left, leaving Wes to finish with the mirrored tiles. As he walked away, he wondered just what it was that Wes was trying so hard to see.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been lying there when the touch of Wesley s warm hand on his shoulder caught his attention. The way he touched him. It never ceased to send a tremor of desire through his body. Angel slowly rolled over to look at him. But once again, Wesley’s attention was not really focused on him. Instead the blue eyes were locked on the tableau on the ceiling.

Angel watched him for a long time before speaking. “Wesley,” he said quietly. “I’m here. I’m not an illusion.” He reached out and laid his hand on Wesley s stomach, slowly tracing the line of hair swirling down from his chest to his groin. I m here now. He wondered if his touch would get through to Wesley. He loved the feel of him. The warmth, the muscles underneath the skin, the way the hair grew on this expanse of body, the feel of its texture under his fingertips. He loved touching him. Never tired of it. This had surprised him.

But that was one of the very best things about Wesley. He was full of surprises. It was only now that he noticed such things. Like the desire that seemed to throb of its own volition, able to push aside Angel’s own lingering resentments and Wesley’s intractable reserve however fleetingly. Or the fact that Wes could see the big picture better than he could. Funny really, that he, the immortal being, struggled to see it, but Wes, human through and through, never seemed to have problems with it at all.

But tonight wasn’t about ancient prophecies or visions. It was about touch and taste. The way their mutual desire hung thick between them. The musky aroma of Wesley’s arousal began to permeate Angel’s senses. Made Angel want to devour him completely. But instead, Angel waited for a signal from Wesley. Something that would show that Wesley was here with him and not lost in that bloody mirrored mosaic that hung overhead.

Finally Wes spoke in a low voice, “Yes you are.” Then he reached for him. Angel didn t hesitate. With a growl, he rolled himself on top of Wes, pinning him to the mattress. Using his weight and size to his advantage, he leaned in for a kiss, trying hard to take Wesley’s mind off of the mirrors.

He started off gentle. Relishing the warmth and softness of Wesley’s mouth, he tried to take it slow. But gradually, he found himself pushing, demanding more and more. Deepening the kiss, forcing his tongue deeper, tasting, devouring the man below him.

At last, he felt the response he was searching for. Wesley’s hands tracing along his back, pulling him in. The pulsing erection pushing against his stomach. Slowly, Angel rocked his own hips against the man beneath him, and heard the groan that escaped Wesley’s mouth and filled his own. With a smile, he tore himself away from that mouth and begin working his way lower. Across the stubble-covered cheeks, along the ridge of the jaw, down the column of the throat, to hover at the pulse point on the right side of Wesley s neck for just a moment. Then with a slight nip, he moved on across the collarbone, stopping to lick the gathering sweat beading in the hollow there. He savored every taste, every texture. He laved his tongue across Wesley s chest, kissed the flat of his stomach and then trailed further down, taking his cue from Wesley s involuntary responses.

Finally, he reached Wesley’s cock. He rubbed his face against it, drinking in the aroma. He took his time exploring, with hands and his mouth. Looking up, he caught Wesley’s gaze, filled with passion and hunger, and Angel smiled. He bent his head back to the task at hand, and was greeted with a sharp intake of air followed by long ragged breaths. He felt Wesley run his hands over his head, stroking his hair lightly, urging him on, and then he was suddenly enveloped in fabric.

He lifted his head to see what was going on, but Wes pulled the fabric tightly against him. Angel felt a moment’s panic as he tried to figure out what the hell was happening before he felt Wesley’s hands splaying across his shoulders, trying to mold the sheet to the contours of his body. And he knew then that Wesley was once again focused on watching him in the mirror. He knew Wesley was trying to give his reflection form and substance by encasing it in the thin white sheet. With a groan of frustration, he raised up and pushed against the fabric, eager to break its hold, but as he did, Wesley bucked his hips and began thrusting, asking silently for Angel to give him release.

Angel hesitated for the briefest of moments. But the smell of Wesley’s desire and the taste of him in his mouth were too much to deny. Once again, he nestled himself between Wesley’s thighs and concentrated fully on drawing him deeper into his mouth. Angel could still feel the smoothness of the sheet being stretched taut against his body and he felt anger begin to rise.

Desperate to regain Wesley’s attention, he slid his hands over Wesley s stomach, down his thigh, and between his legs. Slowly tracing a saliva-moistened finger between the buttocks, he hesitated momentarily before sliding it in. Wesley thrashed wildly at the invasion and exploded into Angel’s mouth. Angel heard the shuddering moans, felt Wesley;s fingers digging into his shoulders as he drank deeply.

Finally, Angel felt the taut cotton relax against him, and he carefully sat up, pushing the sheet off of him and letting it fall to the floor. He let his gaze roam over Wesley, taking in the trembling, the ragged gasps for air, the firmly closed eyes.

Frowning slightly, Angel slid forward and lowered himself next to Wesley. He rolled on his side, and pulled Wes up against him, holding him close. Angel felt his own erection pulse between the two of them, and knew he would find no release that night. He could see that, once again, Wesley was lost in thought, the closed eyes forming a barrier, keeping him at a distance.

Angel lay there silently. Listening to Wesley s even breathing, lightly cupping his hand against his waist, savoring the heat that radiated into him, warming his cold body. He remained still, save for his own throbbing cock which he had pushed firmly up against Wesley’s back. A reminder of sorts that he was still there. That what they had was real. He needed Wes to know that, and wondered if he ever truly would.

As Wesley turned his head ever so slightly and opened his eyes to stare at the mirrored reflection hovering above them, Angel closed his own eyes. He couldn’t bear to look at Wes, not right now. Angel wondered what drew Wesley over and over again to those mirrors. He wondered if Wes even truly understood what he was doing. What was he trying to see?

Angel knew Wes would not find the answer in the mirrors. No matter how hard Wesley tried to rearrange Angel in his mind’s eye it wouldn’t come out right. Angel had been broken and put back together into a semblance of what he once was. But a piece would forever be missing. And as he finally drifted off to sleep, he suspected that the emptiness that Wesley saw was nothing but a reflection of the hole in his heart.

 

TITLE: Renewal
AUTHOR: B Taylor
RATING: NC-17. M/M Sexual Content
SUMMARY: Angel/Wesley. Angel & Wesley find comfort in each other.
SPOILERS: Set between S4 & S5
DISCLAIMER: They don’t belong to me; I’m just having a wee bit of fun.
FEEDBACK: Please.
DISTRIBUTION: Quite possible. If asked nicely.

Angel stood in the lobby of the hotel and looked around. Boxes were stacked neatly near the door. Office files had been packed and sent to storage. The phones disconnected. Funny how quickly a place that only a week earlier was filled with people and activity could become so empty and shuttered. The Hyperion was slipping back into the dormancy that had been its legacy for so long. Until they had arrived, that was, and brought it back to life.

Angel ran his hand over the desk counter and looked around one last time. He had spent the day walking through the building. Floor by floor. Room by room. Moving quickly in some areas, lingering long in others. Fixing memories. Saying goodbye. Making peace.

He wondered momentarily if he had made the right choice. Done the right thing. Then he pushed those thoughts aside. There wasn’t anything else he could have done. He had taken his deal. Made the executive decision. Closed that door behind him. Now he had to move on.

Walking around the counter, he moved into the inner office and stood there for a moment. He slowly walked around the desk and sat down behind it one last time. He placed his hands on the desktop, felt the solidness of the wood beneath them. He closed his eyes and bowed his head for a moment, awash in memories. Suddenly a familiar scent reached him and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Angel opened his eyes to find Wesley standing in the door. Looking at him with those clear blue eyes that at once seemed to see everything and yet still held too many questions. Angel leaned back in the chair and waited for Wesley to speak.

“Angel” Wesley said. “You’re still here.” Angel nodded, “Yeah, just finishing up a few things. What about you?”

Wes walked into the office and laid a hand on the bookcase. “Packing up the last of the books to take home.” He gave Angel a wry glance. “I doubt they will be needed at Wolfram & Hart.”

Angel made a noncommittal sound and stood up. “Need help with the boxes?”

“Sure,” Wes said with a nod and turned toward the lobby. Angel waited a moment and then moved around the desk to follow him outside into the night air.

Together they worked silently to load the boxes of books into the back of Wesley’s Jeep. When the job was done, they stood there brushing imaginary dust off their hands.

Angel cleared his throat, unsure of what to say. At the same time Wesley said “Thank you.”

This brought a rare smile to Wesley’s face, and Angel realized it had been a long time since he had seen Wes smile. “You’re going to need help carrying these in over at your place,” Angel pointed out, and without further conversation, he climbed into the passenger seat of the Jeep and waited on Wes.

The ride to Wesley’s apartment was quiet. Angel glanced at Wesley occasionally, but Wes kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, concentrating on the drive. Angel wondered what Wesley thought about all of this. He hadn’t said much after Angel announced that he had taken the deal for all of them. Not that there had really been time to talk, of course.

At the apartment complex, they worked in unison to quickly move the boxes upstairs. As Angel carried the last box in, Wesley closed the apartment door behind him.

Angel set the box down next to the others in the living room and glanced around. He wasn’t sure what he expected to see, but he realized that not much had changed. He turned to find Wesley once again looking at him. Silently questioning him.

Angel met the gaze and stood there quietly.

“Why are we doing this?” Wesley asked softly.

“Doing what?” Angel asked trying to avoid the question, but Wes persisted.

“Taking this offer.”

With a slightly disgruntled sound, Angel turned away and moved over to the window to look out before answering. “You said it yourself Wes. There’s a lot of good we can do with their resources.”

Wes nodded slowly. “And yet you didn’t discuss it with us. You just made the decision for us.”

“There was no time for discussion, Wes.” Angel replied.

“Of course” Wes started to say, then broke off. “Its just…oh nevermind.”

He turned away from Angel and walked over to his desk and began to fiddle with a pen. Angel stared out the window and thought back to a time when Wes would have pushed the question.

He turned back around and approached the desk. “We’re going to keep fighting the good fight Wes. That’s not going to change.”

Wesley looked up at Angel and nodded briefly. “Yes. Of course we will.”

Their words seemed to hang in the air, choking out any additional conversation. Wes lingered near the desk, occasionally touching items. Angel thrust his hands into his jacket pockets, unsure what to do or say. Once he would have known just what to do or say to Wesley to ease the tension in the air. What kind of look to give him. What gesture to make.

Wesley broke the silence finally. “How about a drink?”

Angel nodded hastily glad of the chance to do something other than just stand there. Just two old friends having a drink. That was easy enough to manage. He watched as Wesley moved over to a cabinet, took out a couple of tumblers and a bottle of Scotch and quickly poured their drinks. Angel moved over toward the sofa as Wesley handed him his glass. He felt a frisson of awareness shoot through his body when their fingers brushed ever so slightly as the glass was handed off.

Angel slowly sat down on the sofa and sipped his Scotch, taking a moment to consider what just happened. Two years ago, he would have known what to expect. What was going to happen. How to make it happen. And now, he sat there feeling uncertain about so many things, including this unexpected hint of desire that had suddenly come out of left field.

Taking another sip of his drink, Angel closed his eyes and let the liquid burn its way down his throat. He remembered that Wesley had tasted like fine old scotch the first time they kissed. He had been lonely. So empty after Willow broke the news to them. Cordy had tried reaching out to him. They all had, but he had just withdrawn. Preferring to sit silently in his room and think about what might have been, what should have been and what would never be.

Wesley had arrived at his rooms one night, carrying a bottle of scotch and asking no questions. They had sat quietly in opposite chairs, each perfectly content to drink and consider their own private predicaments in blessed silence. When the last drop of drink had been poured and consumed, they had both risen to their feet. They stood there looking at one another for the longest time, until Wesley had reached out, touching Angel’s shoulder with a gentle reassuring clasp. That was all. But it was enough. Then they were kissing. Slow and tentative at first, with the taste of the scotch still strong on Wesley’s tongue.

Angel pushed the memory aside. He glanced over at Wesley, who sat there sipping his drink, staring off in another direction. Wes had changed over the last two years. The immaturity and gawkiness that had once been such a part of him had been refined away, leaving a mature, determined man in its stead.

Draining the last of his drink in one gulp, Angel stood and moved toward the door. “Thanks for the drink,” he said.

Wes set his glass on the coffee table and stood, following him to the door, carefully remaining the gracious host. “Thank you for your help with the boxes.”

They stood in the entry hall and looked at each other, brown eyes locked with blue ones. Angel started to say something, but lost the words. Awkwardly, he reached out and rested his hand on Wesley’s shoulder.

Once again Angel felt that familiar tremor of need pass between them. He heard the ever so slight catch in Wesley’s breath. He leaned forward and softly brushed his lips against Wesley’s. He tasted just the barest hint of scotch, before Wes opened his mouth and deepened the kiss. Ah, Angel thought, this hadn’t changed a bit. He pressed forward, exploring the planes of Wesley’s mouth, drawing the heat from Wesley into himself.

Angel slowly slid his hand up from Wesley’s shoulder, to cup the back of his head, pulling him closer to him. Threading his fingers through Wesley’s thick hair, Angel held on tightly, suddenly wary of letting go.
Wes responded by stepping forward, backing Angel against the apartment door. Wesley pulled his mouth a way for a moment, looked deep into Angel’s eyes, and then kissed him again. Angel couldn’t get enough.

They stood in the hall, mouths locked together, slowly remembering the taste and feel of each other. The kiss deepened, Angel demanding more from Wes, wanting to taste everything. Wes responded by slipping his hands under Angel’s jacket, sliding it off and letting it drop to the floor. His hands began to roam across Angel’s back and shoulders. The surety of Wesley’s touch was a revelation. Wes’ need matched his own, and Angel carefully began to let slip the tight reins of his control.

Angel dropped his head backwards as Wesley broke off the kiss and began trailing his mouth down the column of Angel’s neck. So much was familiar about this, the way they fit together, how Wesley tasted, how he responded to Angel’s touch. Familiar and comforting. But there were differences too. Once-smooth cheeks were now full of texture, a roughness that raked across his skin and flamed the fire building between them. The earlier softness of Wesley’s body had been replaced by a lean hardness. Angel felt himself grasping and pulling Wesley closer, wanting him, needing him.

Wesley took a half step backward, and Angel groaned in frustration as the contact between their bodies was broken. But Wesley gave him a steady look, slid his hands to the front of Angel’s shirt and pulled him along. Angel smiled as Wes maneuvered him through the apartment, taking the lead in this dance. Angel relished the desire building between them as they stopped every few steps for another deep kiss, or greedy touch, pausing only to unbutton shirts, loosen belts, kick off shoes.

The heat radiating from Wes was like a magnet drawing Angel, awakening a need he thought was long-buried. Even the cool darkness of the bedroom did little to quell it. He wanted to feel all of Wes next to him...no -- needed it. Angel moved his hands to Wesley’s waist and tugged at the fly of his jeans. They both struggled a bit as they quickly shed the remnants of their clothing and tumbled onto the mattress.

Angel found himself resting on top of Wesley, covering his body, soaking up the feel of him. Skin on skin. Angel moved eagerly, pressing himself onto Wes, rubbing their bodies together, striving for as much contact as possible. He felt Wesley shift beneath him, hungry for his touch. Angel devoured Wesley’s mouth once again, seeking something primal from him. As Wes moved beneath him, forcing their erections together, Angel moaned, losing what little control he had maintained as Wesley reached between them, grasping his throbbing cock.

Wesley’s hand felt so good, Angel thought. Everything felt so good. Angel’s own hands were stroking and touching Wes wherever he could. He enjoyed the feel of Wesley’s body under his hand, under his body, under his mouth. Wesley pushed slightly and Angel rolled to the side. He reached for Wesley’s erection, grasping the warm, hard length, stroking and teasing with his hand. Working to match Wesley’s rhythmic movements on his own cock.

God, it had been so long since he had allowed himself this kind of pleasure. Allowed himself this close to release. But it wasn’t enough. He needed more. He wanted more. Angel wanted all of Wesley tonight. Not just hand and mouth, but his entire body.

“Wes?” Angel whispered. “I want…” Then his words trailed off, and he dipped his head to Wesley’s neck, kissing and nipping, not quite willing to put into words how badly he wanted to be fucking Wesley.

Then Wesley released his cock, and Angel felt strong hands forcing his head up to meet Wesley’s gaze. Those blue eyes bore into him. Searching for something, Angel wasn’t sure what, but he met that look, trying to let Wesley know what he so desperately wanted.

The search seemed to last forever, before Wesley gave Angel a hint of a smile. He moved forward and gave Angel a kiss, hard and answering, before pulling away. Angel closed his eyes against the frustration of being separated from Wesley. He barely registered the rustle of a drawer opening until he felt Wesley’s hands on him, coating his cock with lube.

His eyes opened and he looked at Wes with undisguised need. Wes met his glaze as he started to roll to his stomach. “No,” Angel said, grasping Wes and rolling him to his back again. “I want to see your face.”

Angel picked up the tube of lubricant and gently began to rub it on Wesley. Wesley shuddered underneath his hand, whether from desire or the coolness of the lube, Angel wasn’t sure. Angel slowly ran a finger between Wesley’s buttocks, tracking the curve to his opening. He slowly inserted one finger and heard Wesley gasp.

He bent his head down and kissed Wes again, softly plundering his mouth as he kept touching and preparing Wesley’s body. Finally, he shifted and positioned his cock, pushing forward slowly, trying to ease his way in when all he wanted to do was plunge in hard and fast and take what he needed.

Oh god, Angel thought, it felt so good. Tight and warm. He struggled to go slowly, to savor the moment, to find the right rhythm for both of them. He concentrated on his movements, taking his cue from Wesley’s response. Angel looked intently at Wesley’s face. Watching the play of emotions, a wince of pain, a shudder of pleasure. When Wesley opened his eyes to fix him with a look of pure need, he smiled and gave Wes a deep kiss.

Angel’s hips began to rock in a slow pulsing motion, moving in and out with as much control as he could maintain while Wesley adjusted and grew more responsive. When he felt Wesley’s body relax and begin to move beneath him, Angel opened his eyes and looked at him. He began to thrust more deeply, increasing his speed and power, driving them both closer to the edge. Soon Angel was lost in the pleasure of the moment, the way Wesley’s body held him tight and sent a channel of warmth straight into the heart of him, the way he suddenly felt almost alive. Angel closed his eyes again, awash in the sensations, overwhelmed by the simple joy found in this act.

Reaching between them, Angel found Wesley’s cock, pulsing with desire. He began stroking the thick length, gently at first, tracing its swollen head with his thumb, eliciting a moan from Wes, before pumping it in a tempo to match their thrusting bodies.

Wesley began to groan and Angel felt him shudder with the approaching orgasm. He felt Wesley spill himself onto his hand and stomach, the hot seed pumping as Wesley cried out in release.
Angel kept moving, thrusting hard and deep, until he was at the brink. Then surrounded by Wesley’s heat, he exploded, his groan echoing in the stillness of the room. Shaking from the power of his release, Angel collapsed on top of Wesley.

When he managed to open his eyes, he found Wesley, eyes still darkened with desire, watching him silently. Angel smiled and claimed his mouth, kissing him reverently, pouring out his thanks, and more importantly his wonder.

Lifting his head Angel started to speak. “Wes….”, but Wesley raised a finger and placed it against Angel’s mouth.

“Shhh….” he murmured, shaking his head with a satisfied smile.

Angel smiled and kissed Wes’ finger gently before rolling over. He started to pull Wesley into his arms only to find himself gathered into Wesley’s embrace. Resting his head on Wesley’s chest, he marveled at the simple pleasures to be found in this moment. The sound of Wesley’s still-pounding heart beneath his ear. The feel of his warm skin under his cheek. The way Wesley’s hands traced a pattern across his back. Angel felt himself being lulled into a restful state, not one of pure happiness, but one of peace. Something he had wondered if he would ever find again.

Silently, Angel relaxed against Wesley and enjoyed the moment for what it was. A chance to dissolve the barriers between them, if only for a short while, enabling each of them to find a measure of comfort amid all the pain and loss. A chance for his own cold, dead heart to feel a tendril of warmth, enough to give Angel the faintest hope, that renewal was possible.