Rating: R – m/m sexual content

Summary: Angel/Wesley – Wesley is working out in more ways than one

Spoilers: Set AtS S5

Disclaimer: They belong to others, I just like playing with them.

Feedback: Always – need to feed the Ho

Distribution: Asking will probably get you your wish

Every night Angel walked the unfamiliar corridors of Wolfram & Hart, trying to find something about this steel, glass and plastic monolith that would make it feel like home. The knowledge that his every word, movement and maybe even thought was being recorded, archived and analysed didn’t help. Home was a place where you felt safe, at peace and free. Wolfram & Hart was far from this.

There was one thing that reminded him of home--his family. Lorne, Gunn, Fred and Wesley. His thoughts drifted to Wesley as he continued down the darkened passages. He smiled at the memories of the few, rare times they had been together, shared each other’s bodies, found unimaginable pleasures. It wasn’t love--they both knew that--but it was more than a friendship. They knew each other in ways that no one else could comprehend, intimacy at a primal level.

Finally making it back to the main lobby, he noticed a glow of light from a room at the end of the corridor--his private training room. Making his way there, he could hear the pounding and kicking, the sounds of exertion and effort. He knew who it was even before recognizing the familiar scent of blood and sweat. Wesley.

He entered the room, choosing to keep himself hidden in the shadows. Rarely did he have the opportunity to admire this man and his body. He watched as an artist does, memorizing every detail, every line, every scar, etching it into his mind, this picture of perfection. Wesley’s firm muscles pumped and strained with effort, sweat glistening over his bare chest, the dark sweatpants riding low over his hips. His flow of movements were more like a dance than a workout, flowing, merging into a pattern all of their own.

Angel welcomed the sudden feeling of arousal, the gradual spread of desire through his body. It hinted at possible pleasures he rarely let himself feel. The rhythmic sounds of the punches and kicks, like blood pumping through veins, gradually made him hard.

Wesley punched and kicked the old leather bag, practicing different movements in various combinations, honing his skills, developing new ones. It had been a long day-- they all were now. Tied to a desk, sifting through endless piles of paperwork, running a department that he hadn’t had time to familiarize himself with, surrounded by people he couldn’t trust.

More often than not Wesley found himself finishing his days working out in Angel’s private training room. If he were honest with himself, he’d admit that his home was little more than a place to sleep and store his possessions. Usually he would find himself alone, reading a good book and occasionally sipping a Scotch.

Most nights, working out gave him a chance to unwind and exercise, a place to forget about work and his non-existent personal life, but not tonight. When he thought about it he often laughed at what passed for his personal life, always seeming to end with heartache. Except with Angel. And what was it with Angel? Wesley preferred women-- he knew that. He’d never been attracted to men at all, but Angel was the exception. He needed him, wanted him in every imaginable way.

He couldn’t see him, yet he knew he was there, somewhere in the shadows. He’d been there for a while, he was pretty sure of that. It was during times like these that he felt unsettled, as if a deadly predator was stalking him. He intimately understood this predator’s intentions, and it excited him.

Stopping for a quick break, Wesley pulled out the bottled water and took a few small sips, slowly poured a little over his head, raking it through his hair and letting it run down his body, cooling his skin.

“Enjoying the view?” he said, still with his back to the vampire.

Angel slowly moved away from the wall, gradually emerging from the shadows, brown eyes slowly sweeping up over his body, seeming to leave trails of heat behind them, until he finally met Wesley’s gaze. “Yes.” The look caused a shiver to run through Wesley’s body. Angel’s eyes flared, his craving to consume this man growing with each passing moment.

Angel moved swiftly, and suddenly Wesley found himself pressed hard against the wall, a cool tongue lapping at the drops of water on his skin. Hungrily, Angel whispered into Wesley’s ear, “Do you want to spar?”

“Yes,” was all he could say as he forced Angel around, now pinning him to the wall, their lips meeting and fighting for dominance. Breathless, Wesley pulled away, stepping back to look at Angel. Their eyes said it all, the blazing of emotion, lust and hunger, the plain truth about what they were to each other.

Wesley revelled in the sensations that Angel caused in his body. Just a look could light the fire, a touch turned it into an inferno. His hands slowly rubbed Angel’s chest, removing the silk shirt, exposing Angel’s pale skin.

Angel’s hands rested lightly over the band of Wesley’s sweats, teasingly sweeping over fabric and skin. The effect drew Wesley closer, trying to intensify these sensations. Angel’s fingers dipped under the band, moving downward, taking the garment with them.

Angel’s remaining clothes became an unwanted barrier. Wesley’s fingers quickly released the belt and zipper, the trousers sliding down. His hands played Angel’s body like a fine instrument, hitting the right notes and chords.

Angel strained to retain his control--things were happening too fast. He pushed away from the wall, breaking contact with Wes, a disappointed moan escaping his lips. He raised his fingers, gently brushing them against Wesley’s lips. “Sh… come with me…” Grabbing a bottle of massage oil off the table, he silently led Wesley over to the mat area, finally turning to share a soft kiss. Wes followed Angel’s lead, soon finding himself lying on the mat, Angel crouching low over him.

Wesley watched as Angel carefully tipped the bottle. Small drops, then a fine thread of oil poured onto his throat, slowly snaking down over his chest and abdomen. At first he was shocked by its coolness and the sensation of it slowly spreading over him. The viscous liquid moved of its own accord, pooling in places, in others dripping off onto the mat.

Angel’s hands kneaded and worked the oil into his skin, strong fingers easing the taut muscles of his chest. Desire grew inside him, building, growing, as Angel’s hands worked his body…. Wesley closed his eyes and abandoned himself to the sensations. Angel traced light patterns on his skin, pinched and rolled his nipples, slid his fingers down Wesley’s abdomen. Wes held his breath in anticipation, never quite certain what was coming next.

Angel deliberately emptied the remainder of the oil over Wesley’s already slick body, large pools forming on the mat. Finally he lowered himself full-length onto Wesley. Gently at first, then more firmly, more deliberately, he rubbed their bodies together, the sensations flaring at this new contact. Their now heated flesh feasting off of the friction, the skin contact, hips thrusting harder against each other, seeking more. The intensity continued to build as the two bodies rubbed together, rolling and grinding, both slickened with oil…

For Angel, the need to be consumed became overpowering, to be Wesley’s as much as, in other encounters, Wes had been his. To seek a partnership as equals, both giving and receiving each other’s pleasure.

“God, I want you now,” he whispered, their eyes finally meeting. “Please.” Without thought Wesley willingly availed himself to Angel’s pleasure, to be filled and consumed.

“No. I need you,” Angel pleaded, rolling himself over and pulling Wesley on top. “In me.”

The realisation of what was happening surprised Wesley. “Angel?” he questioned, unsure if he understood what was being offered, but Angel’s eyes held the answer, the darkened orbs glazed with desperate need.

God he loved this body. The feel of his skin, the coolness, the intoxicating mix of arousal, sweat and oil and now he wanted to consume it even more.

Wesley ground his body into Angel’s, overwhelmed by the sensations of skin on skin. He slowly moved down sucking, nipping and kissing, mouth, neck, chest and nipples. Angel’s body became taut with desire, moans of pleasure coming from him. Wesley leaned up and devoured that mouth, taking pleasure from his lips and tongue. Angel’s hips lifted, desperately seeking Wesley, only to find his gentle fingers working and preparing him.

Wes slowly opened his eyes to see Angel gazing back. “Now,” Angel said. “Please.”

Swiftly their bodies melded as one, an explosion of fire, lust and dreams. At that moment Angel abandoned the façade that everyone knew, and allowed himself to be controlled by another, knowing he was safe in doing so. His senses savoured the moment, the physical fulfilment and emotional release. He hadn’t found perfect happiness, he’d found his perfect match.

Angel looked up to see the face of everything he wanted, everything he needed. Wesley.