Title: Burning the Night Author: Foxhunt2blue Summary: Where exactly did Wes go during the events of Destiny? To have a future with Angel he has to put the past behind him. Rating: NC-17 m/m slash Pairing: Angel/Wesley Spoilers: "Destiny" Ep 8/5th Season 'Angel' Disclaimer: Our wonderful Joss created them I had nothing to do with it---wish I had. I just play with the boys on occasion. I on the other hand claim anyone you don't know. Feedback: Please feed the baby slash ho' it needs nourishment to grow! ;-) E-mail: foxhunter2blue@yahoo.com Author's note: This is the third in a series of stories beginning with 'Deora Ar Mo Chroi'. If you haven't read the previous two check them out here: http://www.geocities.com/rose_liz2001/MoChroi.html Dedication: This one is for the ladies of SHA who have decided it's not dangerous to encourage me. And a special thanks to OW for her personal insights on Wesley---she does love him so. :-) Thank you & I love ya all!! *** Home. Such a simple word, but its meaning held as many facets as the finest of jewels. Wesley stood at the gates staring up the long, winding drive through the iron bars wondering what Angel would think of this journey. His gaze drifted up to where the intricate sculpted W and P crested the arch of the gate. After all these years he still felt like a little boy overwhelmed by the history of this place he had once considered home. "Why Master Wesley...is that you?" He looked down to see Philip McIntyre's gruff weather worn face---dark eyes peering from beneath his cap---surrounded by his shockingly white hair. A smile creased his face as he pushed open the gate. "Yes. Yes it is Philip." Wesley smiled at the older man as a wash of memories came back. "Why 'tis a sun-filled day when my little Wesley comes for a visit." Philip wrapped his arms around Wes in a fatherly embrace. "The missus will be so tickled to know you've finally come home." "How is Mrs. McIntyre, sir." "What is this sir shit boy?" McIntyre roared with laughter as he took Wes's bag and guided him through the gate. "You'll be callin' me Philip and the missus...well Margaret is doin' fine as can be expected under the circumstances." "Circumstances?" Wesley raised a brow. "Ahhh...'tis right. You've been gone for a bit. Me sweet Margie...," Philip turned his eyes glistening, "...she's dying from the cancer. I brought her home since the doctors can't be doing anymore for her." Wesley's face paled as he wrapped his arms around Philip in an awkward, yet heartfelt embrace. "I am so sorry...," he tried to reconcile this news with the young vibrant woman who had been more of a mother to him than his own. "If only I had known I could have...," "No regrets me boy. Twas nothing you could have done. Your da has been supportive through out the past months." Philip started up the path to the main house. Wesley stiffened at the mention of his father. Frozen to the spot he stared up at the house's grey stone walls the fear squirming in the pit of his stomach. Turning back Philip shook his head at Wesley's pale face. "Come now Master Wesley 'tis no reason to be scared. You've grown to be a fine strapping young man. Besides you're da isn't here. He had business in London...won't be back for a couple of days." With a faint sigh Wes started up the path as he recalled the cold, distant tone of his father's voice when he had called from Los Angeles. He wanted to face his father to come to terms what he had done, but more than anything he wanted to ask why. Why had he been a bastard to his own son? His only son? "Your sister is here though." "Dora is here?" Wesley's brow knotted as he followed Philip to the side door that led to the kitchen. "Yes Mistress Theodora is up from Oxford for the winter break. She comes up for the holidays most years." Philip pushed open the door into the kitchen with one booted foot. "I'll take your bag to your old room. "Thank you...Philip," he smiled as the older man disappeared up the servant's staircase. Wesley stopped in his tracks taking in the one room in this cursed house that he had loved. The years had not changed it. It was just as he remem-bered it. The wide fireplace of stone with a cheery fire burning brightly. Wide windows that looked out on Philip's cottage surrounded by his wife's garden now dusted with frost. Iron skillets and pots hanging from the high ceiling with it's dark heavy beams and yellowed plaster. Dora on the other hand was no longer the little girl he remembered. The tomboy that had moved his mother to exasperation on more than one occasion. Theodora Elenore Wyndam-Pryce was definitely no longer a little girl. She sat at the long wooden table her tall slim frame folded elegantly in a chair a cup of steaming tea at her elbow as she paged through a copy of Homer's Odyssey. Her simple silver framed glasses balanced on the end of her nose. Behind the lenses her brilliant blue eyes rimmed with charcoal liner stood out against the soft glow of her skin. The thick dark curls that Wes remembered from childhood were neatly pinned up in french twist---a stray curl dangling over one eye. "Dora?" His voice shook as he stepped forward. Glancing up she dropped her book on the table a look of disbelief on her face. "Lord in heaven!" She gasped---standing and moving around the table---the look of disbelief turning to one of joy. "WESLEY!" She squealed throwing herself into his arms. He stood looking down at her as his arms tightened around her to return the embrace. "Oh God Dora...," he sighed in relief. "I have missed you so." Pushing her back at arms length he took in the cream turtle neck and chocolate brown wool slacks. A simple pewter cross hung around her neck. "Where in the name of God have you been Wesley?" Her blue eyes twinkled as she leaned in brushing a kiss on his cheek. "Los Angeles." He reached out one finger lifting the cross at her throat. "You kept it." "Of course. And you've grown into an exquisite man. I think the States agree with you dear brother. I dare say the gruff look becomes you." She ran a hand over his jaw grinning at the five o' clock shadow. Wesley cleared his throat and a blush spread over his face. "Well...I...," Her eyes widened. "You've found someone." Her smile widened. "No...I...it's quite complicated." "As love should and always shall be. Who is he? Come do tell." "He?" Wesley's face went from pink to scarlet. Dora rolled her eyes. "Please. I may be you're little sis, but I'm not stupid." She grinned. "Oh my...have I embarrassed you?" "Why no...I just didn't think...," "That is your problem my dear Wesley," she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, "...you think far too much. Let me get you a cup of tea and we shall talk about this man who has stolen your heart." ~~~ Two hours later it was as though he had never been separated from Dora. "...and then he says to me 'sorry mum, but that balloon of porridge was meant for Delroy'." Wesley threw back his head laughing and it suddenly hit him how long it had been since he truly laughed. It felt good. "So about that lover of yours Wes...," Dora grinned. Sitting his cup aside he stood and moved across the floor eyes taking in the everything, but Dora's curious gaze. "Like I said it's a bit complicated...he's different." He squatted next to the fireplace warming his hands. "Different I would expect you wanker. It would have to be someone special...unique to capture your heart." She stood walking over to him. "You've always been a special man Wesley...father never understood that." Wes flinched at the mention of his father as he focused on the flames. "I knew how he treated you love...," she sank down next to him. "Why do you think he sent me away to that bloody convent school? I said something to him...I knew he wouldn't hit me. If our father is nothing else he's a man who would never dare hit a woman." Wes shook his head. "It was my fault Dora. If I had only been the son he wanted...if only I had been smarter...stronger...," his fists clenched as he stood turning away from her. "Bullshit Wesley! He was a bastard to you for as long as I can remember." Dora straightened up turning on him. "Do you remember the closet beneath the stairs? How could he do that to you?" Wesley's body went taunt as he let the memories of that particular punishment roll up from the shadows of his mind. His fists tightened as he tried to shut out the cries of an eight year old boy. A little boy who only wanted his father's love. Looking out the window he caught a glimpse of that boy in his reflection. He didn't want to remember that dark place. He didn't want to remember how his six year old sister would sneak downstairs in the middle of the night to bring him a jam sandwich. With a pain filled roar he slammed his fist through the window---slivers of glass slicing into his hand. But even that pain could not eclipse the pain inside him. "I was fucking eight years old! I was a baby!" He swept his arm along the counter knocking cannisters and bowls into the floor with a crash. Falling to his knees he continued beating his fists into the floor feeling the slivers of glass embedded in his hands. "Angel!" He howled out his lover's name in agony. Dora's arms encircled him---holding tight---as he screamed in pain. "Oh...love...I'm so sorry I didn't mean to hurt you." She held on to him until his arms went limp. "You didn't," he whispered as he relaxed in her embrace. "He did...that bastard...hurt me." Dora held him close stroking her fingers through his hair just as she had when they were children. "Is Angel the one Wesley?" He turned in her embrace. "How?" "You screamed out his name." Flustered Wes pulled himself to his feet. "Yes he is Dora...I think...that I'm in love with him." He grasp her hand and pulled her to her feet finally noticing the blood on his hands. "That's wonderful. You can tell me more, but first we need to take care of your hands." Wesley swallowed hard as Dora led him to the table, then watched as she retrieved a first aid kit from one of the cabinets. Ever the practical one Dora had been his saviour even though she was the youngest. Even as children she had tried to protect him and he loved her all the more for that. "So this Angel...where did you meet him?" He hissed as she plucked pieces of glass from his fingers with a pair of tweezers. "I work with him." "And exactly what does he have that makes him deserving of a Wyndam-Pryce?" Her blue eyes glittered with humor as she glanced up. Wes closed his eyes and tried to picture Angel's face. He was beautiful, powerful, but what was it that truly had drawn him to Angel. "He has a soul." Wes whispered. Dora laughed softly as she dabbed the cuts with peroxide. "Most of us do love." "Not if you're a vampire." She stopped mid-stroke and looked up with wide eyes. "A vampire with a soul?" Her brow furrowed. "Well...I know you might think I'm insane, but...," "I am an actual believer Wesley. Father would be horrified that his little girl knows who he works for. The Council was supposed to be hush-hush, but they were fools...the whole lot of them...even father." "You know?" Wes raised a brow. Finished bandaging his hands Dora reached for her bag that sat beneath the table. With a put upon sigh she pulled out a cigarette case and opened it. "You really expect me...Dora the snoop...not to be the least bit curious why her father keeps texts on demonology in his study." She laughed as she lit her cigarette and inhaled. "I am an intelligent and open minded woman...," she paused, "...I am also a practicing witch brother dear." "You?" Taken aback by her confession Wes considered his next question. "What does father think about...," "The bastard has no idea. Not that I care what he thinks after what he put us both through." Her own brow raised at the look of disapproval on Wesley's face. "Theodora...he is our father...," "He lost right to that title the first time I saw him take a razor strap to you. Besides we were talking about your vampire lover...weren't we?" "Yes I suppose we were. It's getting late though and I had a long trip." Wesley stood and brushed a hand along Dora's cheek. "Can we talk tomorrow?" She grinned at him like the Cheshire Cat. "I'm holding you to that big brother." ~~~ Stepping into his old room brought back long suppressed memories of a less than perfect childhood. Wesley dropped his bag on the four poster bed with its heavy drapes of royal blue velvet. He remembered sitting with Dora behind those drapes with a torch reading ghost stories in the dead of night. A tiny smile flickered across his lips as he flopped across the mattress closing his eyes. Maybe this had been a mistake. Maybe he was on a fool's errand. He wished with all his heart that Angel were here to hold him and reassure him. Rolling over on his side he reached into his bag pulling out his cell phone. Hesitating for a moment he wondered what Angel was doing right now. It was three am here so it would be seven pm in Los Angeles. Punching in Angel's private number he waited as it rang. "What now Harmony?!" Wes laughed softly. "Wesley?" "Yes it's me Angel. I hope I didn't interrupt anything of importance." "Where are you? You sound so far away." Wesley noted a sadness in Angel's voice that hadn't been there before he had left. "What's wrong?" A soft sigh came across the line. "Angel is it...," "No Wes everyone is fine. Everything is fine." He rolled over on his back staring up at the canopy of the bed swathed in shadows. "Why did you call Wes? I didn't expect to hear from you until you got back to the office." "I missed you." A warmth began to coil in his belly. Angel snorted. "You're in England. You went to see him." "Yes I am and yes I did." "Why?" Angel's voice softened. "I have a few issues with him." Another snort came over the line and Wesley smiled. "You said you missed me." "Yes I did. I was telling my sister...," "You have a sister? How many years have we known each other? You've never mentioned a sister once." "You never asked Angel. We haven't seen one another since I was fifteen. But I didn't call to talk about this." "Then why did you call?" There was the soft rustling of sheets on the other end of the line. "Where are you?" Wesley's voice dropped a notch. "My bed. Why?" Wes could hear the smile in Angel's voice. "A bit early for retiring isn't it? After all you are a creature of the night." Wes laughed. "I prefer daylight challenged." This time Wes snorted. "You are beginning to sound like Cordelia now." Silence greeted Wes as he tried to swallow back the words he had just spoken. "I'm sorry Angel." "Don't be Wesley." "Where were we before I stuck my foot in my mouth?" Soft laughter assured him that Angel had let the moment pass. "I have something else that you would enjoy much more in your mouth than that foot." Wes gasped. "Why Angel...are you flirting?" "Me? Flirt? Never." Angel's voice had lowered to a growl that sent shivers down Wesley's spine. "What are you wearing Angel?" "A towel." "A towel?" "Yes...you interrupted my shower." "Fancy a bit of a conversation about what's under that towel?" Wes bit his lip as he let his eyes drift shut. "Now who's flirting Wes?" "I am not flirting!" "Really?" Oh my God, Wes thought, that perfectly delicious growl again. He could feel his cock twitch in his trousers. "No...I'm just a bit randy." "Well I know one thing." "And what would that be?" "You should know what's beneath my towel. I mean after all...you're intimately acquainted with it." Angel laughed. All Wes could do was moan as he reached down rubbing his slowly growing erection through the wool of his trousers. "That I am...," he whispered back. "What are you wearing?" "Me?" Wes opened his eyes as he sat up. "Clothes." "And how is that fair Wes?" "Whatever do you mean Angel?" "I'm naked now." Wesley almost dropped the phone. "Take them off Wes." Fumbling Wesley kicked off his shoes, then stripped down. Sighing he finally spoke up. "Guess what Angel?" He lay back against the mattress. "What?" Came back the amused reply. "So am I." "You are what?" Again that amused sexy growl. "Naked." Wes sighed as he reached down with one hand stroking his cock. "And what else?" "I'm touching myself," Wes sighed. "No...I'm touching you...and you're touching me." "You?" Wesley's eyes drifted shut again. Behind his clenched eyes he pictured Angel---still damp from the shower---laying naked on his bed. A moan rose in his throat as he imagined the cock in his hand wasn't his, but Angel's. "How does it feel?" Angel's voice drifted from halfway across the world. "What?" Wes sighed as he began to slide his hand up and down his length, but it wasn't him. It was Angel's hand gently pumping his cock and his hand was curled around Angel's. "Am I hard Wes? I know you are...," "Yes...," "You're so hard and hot Wes." "Angel...," Wes groaned out the name like a desperate man in the desert searching for water. "Hard...cool...like steel beneath folds of silk." "I can feel your pulse...smell your blood...," Wes groaned as his hand tightened around his erection. "Your breath is hitching in your throat." "God...I hadn't noticed," Wes's throat tightened as he tried to breath. "I was occupied...," "Were you?" Angel's words were a deep purr. "I wish you were here," he sighed. A soft moan came from the other end of the line. "What is it Angel?" His fingers slid down tracing the crease of his hip through his pubic hair. "I should have come." "No Angel...I have to do this alone." Wes sighed as he shifted against the pillows. "Why?" "You know why Angel." His free hand slid up his stomach and along his ribs. "You said it yourself. I have to let the past go...get past the pain." "I...I should have come, then it...," "What? You're lying Angel what happened?" He sat up reaching for his discarded slacks all thoughts of pleasure slipping away in a haze of worry. "I can't do this anymore Wesley." Angel's voice was filled with doubt. "I'm not the one...," "The one?" Wesley was scared now. "I'm coming back." "No Wesley. I'm fine." "Bullshit Angel you are not fine." Wes held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he pulled on his trousers. "Please...Wes...stay. Take care of what you need too." "You need me." "No." Angel's tone changed in the span of a heartbeat. "I don't." "But Angel...," the line clicked, then went dead as Wes stared at the wall. ~~~ Heading downstairs the following morning was one of the hardest things Wes had ever had to do. He had thought that Angel and he had came so far in their relationship, but after last night he wasn't sure anymore. Wandering into the kitchen he was greeted by a fresh faced, well rested Dora who was chattering away on her cell. She waved happily at him, then raised a brow at his haggard expression. "Michael I have to go sweetie...yes...I promise. Love you too." Wes poured himself a cup of tea, then settled across the table from Dora knowing the question was coming. He had forgotten how relentless Dora could be about getting what she wanted. "So who is Michael?" "My fiancee." Dora lit a cigarette and leaned back in her chair eyeballing him. "You didn't sleep at all did you love?" "Dora I really don't care to discuss my sleeping habits at the moment." He hunched over his cup playing with the tea bag. "It's this Angel fellow isn't it?" Looking up Wes scrubbed his face and yawned. "Oh don't even try to avoid the question Wesley William Wyndam-Pryce!" Dora's voice rose in annoyance. "Dora...please?" He raised a brow. "I did some research last night. Would you like to know what I found." Her lips pursed. "I'm sure you'll tell me anyway so just be done with it." Wes snapped. "Angelus aka Angel...your lover with a soul." Wes stood up knocking his chair back. "You had no right Theodora! This is my life not yours!" He turned heading for door hell bent on not listening to Dora rant about his stupid mistakes. Suddenly she was in front of him. "Don't walk away from me Wesley! I'm just worried about you." Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Do you know how dangerous this flirtation is?" Wes gritted his teeth. "Flirtation? This is not a flirtation Dora. I've known him for many years...fought at his side. I'm very aware of how dangerous Angel can be! I care for him though and he cares for me!" "Who cares for you?" They both turned to see their father Roger standing in the doorway. Swallowing hard Wes stepped forward. "Hello father." "I ask you a question boy?" Roger narrowed his eyes. "Or did you decide not to answer my question?" Taking a deep breath Wesley stepped forward clenching his fists at his side even as he felt Dora's hand on his shoulder trying to soothe the anger away. "I do have a name father and I would appreciate that you use it. And secondly I am not a boy...you made sure of that didn't you...father?" Wes spit out the last word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. Roger lifted an eyebrow in smug amusement as he stepped around his son. "I see the little faggot has grown a set of balls, but do tell me Wesley...who exactly is it that cares for your worthless ass?" "Angel. If it's any of your damned business." Turning back Roger raised a brow. "How revolting is that? You've not only decided to openly insult your family after all these years, but you've hooked up with that animal. The most reviled and disgusting creature imaginable." Wes headed towards his father. "Wesley don't...," Dora grasp his arm in a desperate attempt to halt his actions. "And why the hell not!" Wes looked into his sister's eyes as he spoke. "I did everything thing you ever ask of me you bastard!" He turned on his father. "You brought nothing, but shame to me Wesley." Roger snapped back. "I gave you the perfect life you little ingrate and what did you give me in return? I was insulted by my own son in front of the Council. You couldn't even do a simple job." Yanking away from Dora he stepped into his father's space his heart pounding. "Fuck you and fuck the god damned Council!" Roger drew back his hand to slap Wesley only to have it's destination intercepted by Wesley himself. "I'm not eight anymore old man!" Wes hissed through his clenched teeth. "I'm not frightened of you...I don't need you...and I don't need your approval. The Council was destroyed. Do you know why? Because they were all like you! A group of floundering old bastards who thought that they had a right to control everyone and everything in their path." Roger Wyndam-Pryce's face paled as his son squeezed his wrist tighter. "What they never understood was that I didn't lose Buffy or Faith. Their own greed and hatred pushed the slayers away. Just as they pushed one of their own away when Rupert left...and when they turned their back on me." "You have no idea what you're talking about!" "Don't I father? I see the fear in your eyes...you should be afraid. You see I could kill you for what you put me through...what you put Dora through." "You haven't the guts boy!" Roger barked out, yet his face paled even more. "But I do father. You see someone sent an army of cyborgs to take down Angel not a week ago. They thought I was the weak link so they sent one that looked like you and trust me they did their research quite thoroughly. Do you know how it ended father?" Roger shook his head his eyes going wide. "I killed him. Bang. I filled it's worthless corpse with enough lead to stop an elephant. It wasn't until it died that the glamour was lifted. So you see dearest father I do have the guts, but I don't have to kill you now...," he released his father's wrist, "...you're already dead to me." Wesley turned and walked out his hands trembling as he headed to the stairs. ~~~ Packing his bag Wesley could hear his father downstairs screaming and Dora screaming back. As always he imagined she was defending his actions, but he didn't need her to this time. He had come to confront his father and he had done that. Now he had more important things to do...more important people to see. "Wesley?" "Yes Dora." He braced himself. "He wants you out and he doesn't want to see you ever again." Dora's voice was soft and sad. "No problem there. I've already called a cab I'll wait outside." Turning he gasp at the sight of Dora's tear streaked face. Not only that, but a quickly bruising hand print covered her jaw and a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of her mouth. His mouth opened. "Don't...don't say anything Wesley. I love you and I don't blame you. I guess I was wrong about him hitting women." Her shoulders slumped as Wes pulled her into his arms. "God Dora...I'm sorry...I never...," She pulled away smiling through the tears. "Cancel the cab I'll drive you to London." ~~~ He had played that last conversation over and over in his head on the flight back to Los Angeles. Dora had explained that their father had chose to disown them both. Now he had pushed away his children just as he had pushed away their mother. Sure she was there, but Dora had told Wesley that they only stayed together for appearances. Separate rooms and separate lives for the past ten years. Nothing had really changed between their mother and them. She was a woman who had believed in duty and it was her duty to mend the broken fences. They had met their mother for lunch at one of her posh restaurants before his flight from Heathrow. Wesley sat silently as his mother explained that his father was just angry. Even the bruise on Dora's face hadn't convinced her otherwise. But then again this was the woman who pretend- ed her husband had never locked her eight year old son in the closet beneath the stairs. That he hadn't beaten him so bad with a razor strap at one point that he had been in bed for two weeks. She saw what she wanted. She always had. Now Wesley stood outside Angel's penthouse considering whether he should knock or not. Angel made his decision by opening the door. "When were you planning on knocking Wes?" "I don't know." He looked up into Angel's sad dark eyes. "I suppose I was wondering if you still wanted me. After our conversation...," his voice trailed off. Angel grabbed his arm and pulled him into the penthouse with a soft growl shutting the door behind them. "Yes I do want you, but maybe it's me that should be worried." "Why?" Wesley's brow furrowed. "Because of the Shanshu." Angel's eyes closed as he turned away. Reaching out Wes ran his hand down Angel's trembling arm. "Something did happen while I was away. What happened to you Angel?" "A game...that's all it is to them." "Who?" Wes pulled him around studying his face. "The Senior partners who ever the hell they are...it's a game. They've trapped me here and I'm just a pawn. I don't even know if I have the strength to keep this up. To fight for what was promised in that fucking prophecy." Angel leaned in as Wes drew him into his arms. "I'm so tired Wesley." They stood like that for a long time in the silent, darkness. For once it wasn't Angel comforting Wes, but Wes comforting Angel. "I know you're tired," Wesley whispered. "I am to, but whatever happened we will fix it. We will fix it together." Angel looked into Wes's eyes with a sigh. "I don't think it can be fixed." Wes took his hand and guided him through the bedroom into the bathroom. Silently he stripped of his clothes, then undressed Angel. His lips were soft and warm as he kissed each inch of pale cool skin as he uncovered it. When they were both naked Wes led him into the shower adjusting the water. Grabbing a washcloth he soaped it up and began washing the body he had come to love so dearly. Smooth silky skin----pale as the first fall of snow on a cold winter morning---stretched over strong muscle. Muscled honed to perfection by years of fighting and training. Broad shoulders, narrow hips, the curve of a taunt ass that looked so perfect in tight leather or loose wool slacks. Hands wide and strong, long artistic fingers that could both create or destroy with an equal amount of grace. Dropping the washcloth Wes pushed Angel against the wall his kiss claiming and filled with bittersweet passion. It was so clear to him now that he loved this man----this unique creature before him----flaws and all. "What do you want?" Wes whispered against Angel's mouth. "I want you...," Angel sighed as the water pounded down on them. "I want you inside me." He smiled at Wes as he reached for the wash- cloth and returned the favor. With rough strokes he scrubbed Wes's back as he pushed him face first against the slick tiles. "I want this...," he reached around grasping Wes's cock in his soapy fist stroking, "...inside my body." Wes moaned softly. "Inside me...stretching me...filling me. I want your hot cum inside me warming me." Angel leaned against the soap slicked golden back in front of him, his cock sliding between Wes's ass cheeks. "Then I want to be inside you. Filling you up...claiming you like you've claimed me." Pushing back Wes turned so his back was to the wall, rubbing his body against Angel's. Their cocks clashing against one another as he leaned forward kissing Angel rough and deep. With a gasp they pulled back looking into each other's eyes. "So do you think you can fuck me like I want?" Angel's voice was thick with need. Wes laughed as he reached up cupping Angel's jaw---his thumb stroking the smooth skin beneath his dark eyes. "I think I'm strong enough to do anything you want me too." Smiling back Angel grabbed Wesley's hand and shut off the water. He pulled him out of the shower into the bedroom pushing Wes onto his back. "I thought you wanted me to be inside you," Wes laughed as Angel crawled on hands and knees up his body. "You know I have a lot to teach you." Leaning in Angel ran his mouth over Wes's as he reached for the night stand draw and the tube of lube. "Really?" Wes bit Angel's lower lip. "Ever hear of a little book called the Kama Sutra?" "What interesting reading material." Grinning Wes watched as Angel sat back on his heels squirting lube into his palm, then tossed the tube back in the draw. "Yes it is." Angel warmed the lube rubbing his palms together. "The positions can be adjusted for both sexes as well." Before Wes could say another word Angel gripped his erection and began pumping him. Wes's back arched as he moaned in pleasure---pushing himself into Angel's tightening fist. When Angel finally had him slicked with lube he released Wes and sat up on his knees. "What...are...you...," Wes whimpered at the loss of pressure. "I said I wanted you inside me." Angel relaxed reaching behind him and grasping the base of Wes's cock. "I didn't say I wanted you on top." Slowly he lowered himself onto the throbbing erection beneath him. Inch by slow inch until he was filled completely. "Oh God...," Wes moaned as Angel grabbed his hands, their fingers folding together as Angel began to ride him. "Jesus...Angel...," he sighed. Angel closed his eyes focusing on the feel of being filled and stretched. His muscles tighten- ing with each downward stroke of his hips. He could feel the beat of Wesley's pulse inside him---almost as if his own heart was beating. Alive, he thought. "I want to live," he whispered. Suddenly Wes's mouth was on his, Angel's cock trapped between them, rubbing against their stomachs as he rode him harder---faster. "Wes...," he sighed against the mouth that claimed him. "You will...I promise," Wes answered with a moan against his jaw. With a cry of pure pleasure Angel plunged down as his cock pulsed---his cool seed splattering his chest and Wes's. Seconds later he felt Wes swell and explode inside him---filling him with liquid heat---into the core of his soul. Collapsing they lay in each other's arms Wes sobbing for breath. "What are we doing here Angel?" Wes nuzzled his sweat slicked neck. "Finding what we both need. Burning away the past...the pain...," Angel sighed his lips tracing the pulsing vein in Wes's throat. "The shadows...," Wes kissed his temple. "And if I ever catch my breath we'll be burning the night away too." Wes laughed. "Angel I have to point out that you don't breath...," Angel's eyes filled with tears. "...but you will Angel...I promise you that if it's the last thing I ever promise. You are the one Angel...you will always be the one." The End