Caught Between Scylla and Charybdis

Wesley didn't know how long he'd been sitting there reading, before he realised he was no longer alone. When he'd sat down, book in hand,there had been no one at all in the hotel. Everyone had been -- should still be -- out in the city, tracking down leads and searching, as he was through his tomes, for a way to capture him.

Him. Angelus. Standing in the doorway, staring at him. The smirk on his face was clear even in the shadows. Or perhaps it was just that he knew Angelus so well that he knew it was there. Angelus would have no other expression for him than derision.

Closing the book, he leant back in his chair. There was a sword propped up against the wall about five feet away -- much too far. A crossbow hung behind the door where Angelus was standing, and an ax lay on the table halfway between them. There was a stake in the desk drawer near his left hand.

Everything but the stake was too far away to do any good, and the stake...Wesley knew how skilled a fighter he was. Knew enough to recognise that his skill in fighting Angelus lay in strategy and surprise -- not hand to hand. He opened the drawer anyhow, because not wielding it was as foolish as thinking it would make a difference.

"Nice and sharp?" Angelus asked. He hadn't moved while Wesley had sat there, registering the location of the room's weapons. A few seconds in all, but Angelus hadn't even uncrossed his arms. Leaning against the doorjamb, watching him, his face still in shadows.

Wesley closed his hand around the stake. "Not really. I'm afraid it might be dull."

"Ah, good." Angelus nodded, and took one step forward. "Too sharp, it goes in too easy. Fun's over all too soon." Wesley could see him grinning now, and didn't repress his shiver. Angelus walked closer, and stopped when he was standing beside the ax.

"I'm glad you approve," Wesley said, dryly. He could feel his heart beating, so fast and hard that even another human could have heard it. He saw Angelus' gaze shift as he thought it. Not to his chest, but to his neck. The ever so faint pulse of his jugular -- or was it the scar on his neck Angelus was staring at?

Did it matter?

Angelus laughed, once, and for a second it was as though Wesley could talk his way out of whatever Angelus had in mind.

But then Angelus was walking closer and Wesley knew his plans did not include anything Wesley would consider an escape. His hand closed more tightly on the stake -- but it was a reflexive gesture, and he knew he might as well let it go. Although...Angelus would be expecting something. Even a gesture.

Wesley stood in one quick motion, though quick only to human eyes and before he could raise his hand Angelus was there, holding his wrist and looking into his eyes and Wesley's heart was beating fast enough for both of them.

"Is that for me?" Angelus asked, head tilted to the side, bringing his mouth that much closer to the scar on Wesley's throat. His hand held Wesley's wrist loosely, deceptively so. The stake was effectively miles away from Angelus' heart, but it wasn't the focus of his question.

Angelus shifted his body, pressing against Wesley's, and he nudged Wesley's groin with his own. "Got something there for me?" he asked softly, fingers on Wesley's wrist, stroking the skin.

Wesley didn't turn away, didn't speak. It was either denial, or admittance, and neither one promised a reaction he'd desire. The skin on his wrist was burning with each stroke of Angelus' fingers and he knew the motion was intended to remind him. Make him think of that hand on him, stroking, and something in Angelus' eyes made it seem -- for just a second -- that maybe it would be all right to drop his trousers and let him.

If Angelus was going to kill him anyway, would it matter?

He heard Angelus laugh, deep in the back of his throat, and there should have been a feeling of shame. But the hand on his arm wasn't letting go, and Angelus wasn't moving away. Whatever it was he wanted -- in the grand scheme of things, not on the level of detail which involved the skin on Wesley's wrist and the press of his erection -- Wesley was sure that his pride was only there as Angelus' plaything.

There was pain in his wrist as Angelus suddenly squeezed. The stake hit the floor and Angelus laughed again, face still pressed close. Wesley opened his mouth to speak, to taunt him perhaps -- make him angry enough that his death would be swift.

Angelus licked him, and Wesley's throat closed up. Air locked in his lungs, and he was intensely grateful, for he'd heard the words which would have come out.

But Angelus must have heard it anyway, because he pressed in harder and licked him again. Wesley didn't control the reaction of his hips -- jerking forward into Angelus, and there was a delighted noise in his ear as a hand closed around his cock.

"You awake yet?" Angelus purred, and Wesley turned. The room was somehow dark, and Angelus was lying on his side. Lying beside him, one hand under the bedclothes. Wesley blinked, and he was awake -- in bed, in his bedroom.

Angel shifted closer, and kissed him on the side of his neck, opposite the side of Wesley's scar.

"Angel," Wesley breathed. "You're home."

"Obviously," Angel smirked. "I heard you moaning from the hallway -- came in and smelled you. Want me to keep going?" he asked, snuggling closer and giving Wesley's cock another strong pull.

"Yes." Wesley made himself smile as Angel laughed, and he shifted towards him. Reached out with one arm to pull him close, letting him finish off the dream. When he came, he made sure he did so silently.