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Warm hands trailed over cool skin, long fingers stroking down over broad shoulders and strong arms to wrap around pale wrists; a firm squeeze and the long fingers disappeared and the warmth at his back retreated. Closing his eyes, he blocked out all other stimuli, focusing instead of the steady thump-thump-thump of the heartbeat coming from someplace to his left. The scent of arousal washed over him and were it not for the fact that he had been pressed up against the wall and told to stay, Angel was sure it would have brought him to his knees. The rasp of a zipper filled the room and Angel’s chest moved in a facsimile of ragged breathing as anticipation for what was to come burned down his spine, setting his body tingling.
The warmth at his back returned and Angel shuddered as long fingers slid along his scalp before pain seared through him in tiny bolts of pleasure-pain as the fingers tightened and twisted, yanking his head to the side. A low groan worked up and out of his chest, the muscles of his face shifting and settling as the demon inside him raged against what was happening. “Wes…”
“Quiet.” His voice was soft; anyone else would have had to strain to hear him, but not Angel. The rasp of a three-day growth along the pale skin of his shoulder sent another spike of pleasure down Angel’s spine, making his cock twitch and causing him to bite back the plea that had been sitting on the tip of his tongue. When they’d first begun this… whatever it was, it had unnerved him how quiet Wesley could be. Darla, Dru, Spike… even Buffy, had been, not loud – well, Drusilla had – but vociferous, and now, he was used to the quiet dominance that the former Watcher exuded. He understood that Wesley needed the quiet control that they found here to counterbalance the chaos that had consumed their lives since Connor’s arrival; that it turned him on and made him hard enough to pound nails, was a pleasant bonus.
He could feel Wesley now, hot and hard against his hip, and allowed himself a small smirk as he rolled his hips slowly and heard Wesley’s breath catch in his throat. Strong fingers dug into his hip, keeping him still as fingers tightened in his hair; a sharp inhalation was the only warning he had before wet heat latched onto the patch of skin that connected his shoulder to his neck and Angel cried out as he felt the sharp, short pleasure-pain of teeth biting down. White heat travelled down Angel’s spine, seeming to connect the spot on his shoulder directly to his cock. “Please,” he groaned, his head thrown back and to the side, giving Wesley as much access to the area as he could.
The hand left his hip and he felt the fingers in his hair give one final, sharp tug before they too disappeared, but the mouth on the patch of skin between neck and shoulder remained; if anything, the assault on that small patch of skin seemed to grow more intense as Wesley nipped, licked and sucked up a mark that would – no doubt – be gone before the sun had risen. He heard the snap of a lid opening and closing, just barely over the sound of the rapid thumpthumpthumpthump of Wesley’s heart and the rush of blood pumping through human veins, and braced his hands against the wall; waiting for what he knew was to come next.
A growl, from low in his throat, echoed around the room as he felt a slick finger slide between the firm muscles of his arse to trace feather-light circles around the tightly furled muscle. He spread his legs, giving Wesley more room as the digit breached the tight ring of muscle and let his head fall forward with a dull thunk against the wall; a low, keening sound filled his ears as a second finger joined the first and Wesley crooked them. He felt the grin against his neck, the huff of warm, damp breath against his skin as fingertips brushed against his prostate, causing him to cry out. He whimpered as Wesley pulled back and away, the sound of the other man’s heartbeat thunderous to his own supernatural hearing.
Angel’s hands balled into fists when he felt Wesley’s cock brush against his balls. “Wes… please…” He whimpered, thrusting his arse backward and widening his stance a little more. A yell forced its way out of Angel’s chest as Wesley slid into him in one smooth stroke, strong fingers tightening their grip on his hips as he stilled. Angel’s head rolled to the side and he could just see the head of dark hair where it rested on his shoulder; could hear the blood surging and, with another deep breath, Wesley withdrew before driving into him again. Angel moaned, his fingers itching to reach down and wrap around his aching cock, speed the process along, but experience had taught him that Wesley would be less than pleased if he did. He adjusted his hips slightly, crying out as it allowed for Wesley to nail his prostate on every upstroke, setting every nerve-ending alight with pleasure.
Wesley’s hand left Angel’s hip, blunt nails raking across the sensitive skin of his groin before wrapping around his cock. One slow stroke from base to tip and Wesley ran his thumb in a circle around the crown, gathering the pre-come that had beaded at the tip and using it to ease the slide of flesh against flesh. His grip tightened to just the right side of pleasurable pain as he began to stroke in counterpoint to his thrusts; another two strokes and Angel cried out when he felt Wesley bite down once again on the spot he’d been worrying minutes ago. As his orgasm swept over him, his come spraying the wall in front of him, Angel felt his knees begin to buckle; he groaned softly as he felt Wesley’s grip shit from his cock, back to his hip as he continued to snap his hips in a punishing rhythm. Several short, sharp thrusts later and Wesley grunted as he came, slumping against Angel’s back.
They stayed like that for a few minutes before Wesley brushed his lips to the bruise that stood out in stark relief to Angel’s pale skin. Angel listened as bare feet padded away, as the sound of running water filled the apartment; reaching out he grabbed the wet-wipes Wesley had set out for him earlier in the evening and began to clean the wall and himself; when he was done, he got dressed, straining to hear anything over the sound of running water. Shaking his head, he shrugged into his leather duster and left the apartment, but not before making a note on Wesley’s calendar. Two weeks from tonight, it would be his turn to be in control.