Title: Match Point
Summary: A Sequel to Opening Volley. Set during Angelus' escape in Season 4.
The basement is dark, quiet, he knows it's quiet, and yet…she won't shut up.
Wesley knows it's entirely possible that his encounter with Angelus has shattered the last bits of sanity he was clinging to. The proof that he's lost his mind dances around his body, cold fingers curling over his flesh, whispering in his ear even as he stares at her corpse. Struggling to keep focused on the task at hand, he raises the ax high above his head, feeling the balance pulling him backwards. Unable to lower the blade, he lets it fall, the thick sound of metal against the concrete nothing against Lilah's chatter. Her lies fill the room, but Wesley knows the ghosts in his head tell him only truth. It is his fault she is dead, and he secretly wonders if this was his goal when he helped bring Angelus back.
"I couldn't have known," he yells towards the grinning spirit.
"Of course you did, lover." She dangles her legs from the table, leaning forward to brush a strand of his hair behind his ear. "You knew the only way to end it was for me to die."
"I didn't wish you dead." His eyes brim with tears he doesn't want to shed.
"You never wish for anything, you're a doer. My Wesley knows what he wants and he goes after it. Why do you think I wanted you?"
"You used me." The words sound pathetic, ringing off bare walls and slapping him back in the face.
"There's a plaid skirt and sweater vest in my apartment that say I wasn't the only doing the using." Lilah slides from the table, and for a moment Wesley can only stare, asking himself if her words are true. He decides they must be, and suddenly the ax doesn't feel so awkward in his hands.
The blade falls in one swift motion, Lilah's head rolling to the plastic sheeting covering the solid floor. Wesley makes no effort to break his own fall as he crumbles to the ground, tucking the bloody locks of Lilah's hair behind her ear as he cradles her severed head for just a moment, wishing she would fill the silence for just a few minutes more.
Rising to standing, he sets the head back on the table with her corpse, pulling the plastic up around her body and folding the ends together.
"A doer," he says in a low voice, moving his hands from the plastic in a long slow motion. Heading towards the stairs and away from the destruction of a relationship that cost him one dollar bill and a lifetime of sleepless nights, Wesley does not look back.
It's not the first time Wesley has pulled back these curtains. The difference is that before he wasn't looking for anything in particular. In fact, when he started coming here, he was hoping to forget everything. Now every dark corner, every vampire that nods at him with recognition in his eyes, brings back a memory Wesley thought he had buried deep within himself.
Wesley never liked flying. It filled him with a dread akin to missing a conversion kick with the whole school watching, but here in this dank, hidden world, he loved to fly…almost as much as he loved the fall. Something in the getting back up, climbing from the very depths of his own darkness felt like triumph. Every time he woke up, naked, bleeding, yet alive, Wesley owned the universe. There were far too many nights he missed that invented victory.
Stepping over the body of a young woman, clearly high on the Orpheus that flows like water through these corridors, Wesley finds the room he is looking for, one of the few spaces where the victims willingly open a vein without the aide of drugs. As he peels the thick damask drapery back, a sense of disappointment runs through him, but it is temporary. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the smoky light coming from the buzzing lamps above, but as he watches, Wesley sees what he is looking for. In the farthest corner of the room, straddled by a blonde wearing fuck me pumps and little else, Angelus is fang-deep in her shoulder.
When his bite sinks deeper than she'd bargained for the woman bangs her fists against the ever-present leather jacket, using her full body-weight to push herself out of his grasp. His chilling laughter fills the room as he lets her go.
"Run along now, don't want mother worrying over you."
Wesley looks to the ground as the naked girl goes flying past him, clutching at her wound.
When he raises his eyes again he is face to face with Angelus' blood-tinged smile.
"Miss me?" Angelus asks, running a finger down the side of Wesley's arm.
"More than you know," Wesley's voice is calm. The sharp angles of a stake resting reassuringly against his side give him just enough comfort to allow him to touch the vampire's arm in kind. "Sorry I missed you when you came by the office."
"I was late for dinner," Angelus says as he reaches a hand inside Wesley's coat, pulling the stake from within and tossing it to the floor, never breaking eye-contact with Wesley.
"You look satisfied now."
"Oh Wes, there's always time for dessert." His hands are back on Wesley's chest, rubbing at the bruises he placed there only hours ago. Ignoring the petrified sneer on Wesley's face, Angelus rubs at the dried blood coating the thin traces of his ribs.
"I consider myself more of a full meal," Wesley says as the will to step back finally takes hold. He circles around Angelus, doing his best to look like the hunter he never really is.
Angelus looks amused as Wesley holds his head stiff, trying to remember how predators look in the wild. When he finally stops moving and looks back at Angelus, all Wesley sees is the look he's been trying to mimic. Angelus' eyes blaze with a hunger that he doesn't remember ever seeing in those eyes before.
"Is this act going to go on much longer?" Angelus asks. "I mean, I've got a rock monster to hunt and I think I have a brunch meeting, did Cordy mention it?"
Wesley tries desperately to think of some witty retort, or a reason to run, but even when Angelus takes hold of his arms, slamming him back against the wall, he finds his mind blank. Years of council training and Angel's own warnings abandon him when Angelus licks his lips, eyes daring him to escape.
"There is no escape," Wesley says in a barely audible voice.
"Giving up so easy or are you threatening me?" Taking hold of Wesley's belt loops, tugging at the material until he feels resistance against Wesley's hip bones. "Because idle threats will get you nowhere."
"It was hardly idle, we will stop you."
"And when do you think you might start trying that Wes?" Wesley's breath hitches as Angelus shoots a dangerous look at the room's denizens, sending the vampires and their willing meals slithering towards the door and leaving them very much alone.
Angelus slides his hands towards Wesley's trousers, tickling at the quivering flesh of Wesley's abdomen with cool fingers as he works the metal button free. The only sound between them is the soft chink of zipper teeth releasing from each other.
"Too bad your boss is on permanent vacation and can't be reached for comment. Wonder what he'd think of this…fornicating on the job. Sure it's against the rules."
"I hadn't given it much thought."
"Don't fib Wesley. Everyone knows you've thought about this moment for years. I'm guessing you thought it would be very tender." Angelus tears Wesley's coat off his shoulders, tossing it to the ground. "Sweet music in the background, down comforters." Circling his fingers under Wesley's shirt, Angelus pinches at Wesley's nipples, bringing them to harsh peaks, tracing over the still-shaking muscles of his stomach.
"I never realized you shared Drusilla's penchant for reading minds." Wesley bites back a gasp as Angelus' nails leave thin trails over his hips and back.
"Try spending a hundred years locked inside a penitent vampire sometime, you get pretty good at it." Angelus' hands descend lower, one knee leaning forward to spread Wesley's legs apart. "No changing the subject." Pinning him to the wall, Angelus breeches the elastic waist of Wesley's pants, taking his time to run his fingertips through the soft curls hidden beneath. Wesley tenses as Angelus' enormous hands cup his ass.
"You know, this whole petrified awe thing is all fine and dandy, but you could at least pretend to fight. You really are acting like a bit of a slut here."
When his words evoke no reaction, Angelus pulls his hands from under the waistband and clasps around Wesley's ribs, pressing their bodies closer together until their lips meet in a crash of exuberance that sends a momentary shock through his body. "I knew it was an act," Angelus laughs into the kiss.
"Maybe we should stop talking," Wesley says through crushed lips. "I mean, unless you are dying for me to come to my senses."
"Not especially, although I'd kill for you to drop to your knees."
"I could say the same." Both men fight for the upper hand, arms roaming over each other's bodies.
"Never gonna happen, Wes."
"I thought we were fulfilling…Angel's fantasy here. Isn't that your goal? Give him just enough of what he wants so that when you get stuffed back inside the box, Angel is tortured by all the things he wished into existence."
"Someone's been having the thinky thoughts while looking for me, hasn't he?"
"Tell me it isn't true."
"Say it is, what are you proposing?" Angelus breaks contact, raising his eyebrows at Wesley. "Thinking you can bargain your way out of here?"
"I'd say we've gone too far for that."
"Only one thing to be done then," Angelus says, pulling Wesley's pants and trousers to his ankles, "and that's two things at once."
As his hands reach for Angelus' trousers Wesley fears he's lost all common sense. The world seems to blur as they slide to the filthy carpet below, falling like marionettes, limbs jangled together, cocks and lips meeting in tandem as both men take pleasure from an assumed victory.
Wesley is the first to give way. Under Angelus' powerful tongue and ministrations the need to release grows stronger. His own lips curl harder around Angelus' cock, sucking and pulsating faster and faster until he can barely keep up with the pace of the vampire. Each time Wesley breaks away for breath Angelus reaches a hand around to cup his balls, forcing the air from his lungs and robbing him of his breath.
When Wesley begins to shake under his touch, Angelus stops moving, letting Wesley fuck his mouth in his own rhythmless pace. As he comes, Wesley slows the pace of his mouth and hands around Angelus, a deep-seeded groan slipping from somewhere deep inside.
Angelus gives him no time to recover, flipping Wesley's still-trembling body onto his back and lifting his knees until they crush against his own chest. Pressing behind him, Angelus is inside in one painful motion. Barely taking the time for Wesley to accommodate the girth entering his body, Angelus bends forward to plant a lust-glazed kiss on the human's lips.
Each thrust brings guilty moans from Wesley's lips, the physical pain begins to escape, but every time he looks into Angelus' cold eyes he can't help envisioning the hurt he knows will be there if they successfully re-insert Angel's soul. For a long moment Wesley wonders if it would be a cruel thing to do, if the kinder act wouldn't be to just kill Angelus and spare Angel the pain of this memory. Of course, he knows he couldn't be the one to do it now. Not for love of the demon writhing above and within him, but because he would always wonder if he had done it to spare Angel or to hide his own shame.
It seems hours that Angelus thrusts into him, slamming their bodies together in a crash of sweat and harsh kisses, but the last rational place in Wesley's brain knows that it has only been a matter of minutes, minutes that will burn him for eternity. Angelus looks near to coming, his eyes burn gold though he hasn't made the change into his demon's face. The first true moment of fear hits Wesley, wondering if Angelus will bite when he climaxes. His body tenses, nearly forcing Angelus' cock to stop mid-thrust.
The reaction seems to be exactly what the vampire was waiting for. The harder Wesley's muscles clench, the deeper each thrust becomes. Angelus puts his full weight into each lunge forward, slamming into the depths of Wesley's body, the brutal pounding eliciting cries that border on tears, but still bring Wesley to a second orgasm. As the aroma of Wesley's weakness hits Angelus' senses the vampire's coital moans grow louder, his prolonged release surging through their bodies in a series of slow strokes that flood Wesley with indescribable emotion. All he can do is look away when Angelus finally comes to a slow end, pulling his spent cock from Wesley's ass with a look of sheer glee.
And before Wesley can say a word, the vampire is gone into the Los Angeles night, leaving him alone and without any semblance of a plan.