Angel/Wes Fic: Leather

[pepperlandgirl]

Title: Leather
Rating: NC-17
Length: 3,000 words
Summary: Set sometime during S1. Angel likes the way Wesley looks in leather.
Author's Notes: Written for maleslashminis. bookishwench requested a book, a window, a scent and did not want to see non-con, either of them trying to hurt the other. I fail because I didn't have a book involved. Sorry. But I do have the other two things, and 3000 words of hot sex, so I hope she forgives me. Happy Valentine's Day everybody!




Wesley had no idea why Angel would want him to put on his leather pants, but it was easier to force himself into the restricting pants than try to get an explanation. Even if the bloody things chafed and he never wanted to wear them again. Angel sat on Wesley’s bed, propped up against the wall, arms folded across his chest, his face completely impassive. The single bulb in the room flickered, warning Wesley that it would burn out soon, and Angel’s eyes were shadowed. The open window let in a bit of light from the street, and the sheer curtains occasionally fluttered from a light breeze. The breeze wasn’t enough to ease the smoldering summer heat, and sweat coated Wesley’s skin. Which made wiggling into the leather pants even more insane.

Wesley’s fingers felt fat, and his legs were tingling and wobbly. Any moment, they’d betray him, and send him toppling to the floor, like they always did. Angel wouldn’t laugh at him. Not openly, at any rate, but Wesley would still wish for the ground to open and swallow him. Somehow, he managed to get them pulled up around his hips and zipped without causing himself any great injury.

“Can I take these off now?” Wesley asked.

“You just got them on, Wes.”

“I feel stupid.”

“You look great. Take off your glasses.”

Angel’s voice was flat. Not because he lacked emotion. Wesley recognized that tone—he was trying to disguise his arousal. That knowledge made his cock swell against the constrains of the leather, and Angel’s knowing gaze went directly to his crotch. Heat flooded Wesley’s cheeks, and his fingers shook—a tremor so slight that nobody but a predator would be able to catch it. He slowly removed his glasses and set them aside. The world blurred around him, and he momentarily lost the details of Angel’s face.

“Come here.”

Wesley’s feet moved on their own accord. His leather coat was draped across the narrow bed; Angel snagged it and held it out expectantly.

“Angel, it’s too hot.”

“Put it on.”

Wesley didn’t protest again. He shrugged the heavy jacket over his shoulders, both repelled and excited by the familiar weight. He hadn’t worn it once since he arrived in Los Angeles, slightly ashamed of the memories his leather gear elicited. The combined force of the California heat and Angel’s heavy-lidded gaze overwhelmed those memories, though. Wesley could almost convince he bought his gear purely for Angel’s benefit.

Angel took his wrist and pulled him onto the bed. Wesley was pliant to Angel’s desires, and allowed himself to be molded over the vampire’s body, his knees against Angel’s thigh, supporting himself on his arms, his ass in the air. He couldn’t see anything except his gray blanket, and his leather-clad forearm, and the rich scent of leather almost made him heady. He inhaled deeply. Wesley wasn’t sure why, but he had never smelled leather like this.

He jumped at Angel’s light touch. His palm glided over the curve of Wesley’s ass, barely applying any pressure at all. It was like being caressed by a ghost—there was no warmth to bleed through the leather. Wesley closed his eyes, wishing he could take the pants off. Angel touched him so rarely—too rarely—that Wesley did not want thick barriers between Angel’s hand and his skin. How was he supposed to remember the texture and size of Angel’s fingers if his ass and thighs were clad in leather?

Angel lifted his hand and brought it down hard on his ass. Wesley jumped, more from shock than any real pain. The thick pants absorbed the sting, as well as the sound. Angel rubbed his hand over the spot he struck, as though to sooth the light pain. Wesley dropped his head and gasped for breath, overwhelmed by the light caress. As soon as he began to relax, Angel spanked him again. A jolt went up his spine and he stiffened, his cock already seeping pre-come against the leather. Angel’s fingers curled against the skin, then he lifted his hand and brought it down again.

“Count,” Angel instructed.

Wesley whimpered, but complied. “Three.”

Angel never hit him hard enough to really hurt. The pants blocked the real sting of skin against flesh. Even so, each strike made his balls ache. Four. Five. Six. He squirmed against Angel’s lap, trying to relieve the pressure. Angel allowed it, but it didn’t do any good. The more he squirmed, the more the tension increased. A fresh, new heat suffused his flesh. It had nothing to do with the oppressive summer temperature—the temperature that wouldn’t see a break for weeks, maybe even months—and everything to do with the flames Angel fanned through his body.

“Seven.”

Angel reached under Wes with his free hand and palmed Wesley’s shaft. Wesley cried out, losing track of the numbers.

“You stopped counting,” Angel said softly.

“I…”

“That means I’m going to have to start over again.”

Wesley shuddered. “No, please…”

“Yes.” Angel brought his hand down with more force. It pushed Wesley forward until his forehead touched the bed. “Count.”

“God…one.”

“Good.” He brought his hand down while his other hand gave Wesley’s cock a good squeeze.

“Oh, God…Angel.”

“Don’t lose count.”

“Two.”

Angel never shifted his attention from Wesley’s ass, but his palm worked over Wesley’s erection like he planned to milk the orgasm from him. The heel of his hand slid up and down the length, pressing against the throbbing flesh. Wesley writhed, grinding against Angel’s fingers, almost weeping with frustration as the leather pants dug into his tender skin.

“Angel, please. Please. I can’t…”

“Count.”

Wesley whimpered. “Four.”

“It’s too bad you made me start over again,” Angel said, almost conversationally. “I had plans for this ass.”

“Oh?”

“But now they’ll have to wait.”

Five. Six. Seven.

The hand on his cock never stopped moving, but the one on his ass slid lower, until he cupped Wesley’s heavy balls. Wes went rigid, every muscle in his body quivering with anticipation. Angel’s hand disappeared and Wesley closed his eyes, bracing himself. When the palm connected with Wesley’s balls, pain radiated through him in widening spirals.

“Nine,” he gasped.

The pain didn’t fade. It just reverberated and evolved. Instead of trying to escape the contact, he shifted back, thrusting his ass even higher in the air. Angel chuckled, though he didn’t sound very amused.

“You want another one?”

“Yes…yes…please.”

The second slap against his balls was much harder than the first. The pain stole his breath, and he couldn’t even gasp. He would have fallen to his chest if Angel wasn’t keeping a hold of him. His vision swam, and he could feel the ache in his cock from his toes to his teeth. He didn’t know if he wanted to cry from frustration, or if he should beg Angel until he was breathless, or if there would ever be relief. As soon as that thought entered his head, he became convinced that was Angel’s plan. To keep him on the edge, to torment and torture him, indefinitely. Time ceased to matter in his current state. Every second lasted forever.

“Ten,” Wesley gasped.

“Lay down on your stomach. Your head at the foot of the bed.”

Wesley complied, though the thought of trapping his cock beneath his body only increased the ache. He felt the mattress shift as Angel moved to straddle his thighs. He didn’t rest his weight against Wesley, but Wesley still felt every bit of him, still felt like he was pinned to the bed by a force much greater than that of a vampire.

Starting at his shoulders, Angel ran both his hands down Wesley’s back, pressing the leather jacket into his bare skin. Wesley wanted to scream. Didn’t Angel know he yearned to feel the texture of his skin, the strength of his fingers? Didn’t Angel know he dreamt about it, and he made up excuses to touch Angel all day, and he ached to be close to the vampire?

Of course he knew. Which was why insisting that Wesley wear the leather was so clever.

“I’ve always loved the way you look in these pants,” Angel murmured. The words were low, and they felt like a caress. Angel bent and inhaled. “And the way you smell in leather.” His hands made it back down to Wesley’s ass and he gripped both cheeks with firm fingers, squeezing his flesh. “And the way you feel.”

Wesley whimpered, the words more than the contact for the chills racing down his back. He heard the zipper very clearly, and he automatically raised his ass up, but Angel put his hand in the small of his back and forced him back down to the bed. He felt the lightest pressure against his pants, and looked over his shoulder to see Angel dragging the tip of his cock up and down the leather-clad curve of his ass, smearing long strands of pre-come over the black leather. Wesley felt more than a little light-headed at the sight, and he lifted his ass from the bed, but Angel gently pushed him back down, reminding him that his job was to lay still.

Angel bent, pressing his chest against Wesley’s back, trapping his cock against Wesley’s length. He inhaled deeply, smelling Wesley’s hair, and then buried his face in the crook of his neck. His lips worked over the skin in light kisses, and words Wesley couldn’t make out. He felt like he could melt beneath the gentle caresses. He lowered his head to the bed and sighed as Angel licked along the collar of his jacket. He began to rock back and forth, sliding his shaft up and down the crack of Wesley’s ass. He moved slowly at first, and Wesley curled his hands into the blanket, gripping the bedding because he couldn’t grip Angel.

Angel moved faster by increments, increasing his tempo so gradually that Wesley barely noticed. Until he was sliding along the bed, his cock ready to burst, his chest hot against the rough blanket, and his head filled with the sound of Angel’s moans and his own harsh breathing. His ass clenched, ready to be filled by Angel’s thick shaft, and his mouth watered for the same opportunity.

“God, Wes, you’re so hot…even through the leather…I can feel your heat.” He buried his face in the crook of Wesley’s neck again. “You feel so good.”

“Let me feel you, too. Please, Angel…please…”

Angel moaned, and to Wesley’s surprise, sat up. Wesley immediately missed the weight and pressure of Angel’s body, but he didn’t have a chance to miss it for long before Angel turned him over to his back. He straddled Wesley’s hips, and Wes watched with wide, hungry eyes as Angel began to strip his cock. Each stroke was hard and fast. His erection strained against his hand, and Wesley wished he could knock Angel’s hand away and replace it with his mouth.

Angel’s other hand slid up Wesley’s chest to close around his throat. He barely applied pressure. He just wanted to remind Wesley who was in control—like Wesley needed the reminder. He bucked his hips, arching his back. That only resulted in pressing his tender throat harder against Angel’s unforgiving fingers, but instead of frightening him, it sent sparks of pleasure to his cock. Everything from his Adam’s apple to his balls tightened, until he was forced even further from the bed.

Angel tensed, his back arched, and a roar ripped from Angel’s throat. Warm jets of come shot from Angel’s jerking cock and painted Wesley’s chest and stomach, rolling down his ribs and into his navel. Angel pushed his hips forward and dragged his semi-erect cock through the white fluid, smearing it across Wesley’s stomach and his skin. Wesley watched soundlessly, entranced by the sight. His eyes widened further when Angel ducked his head and dragged his tongue over Wesley’s taut abdomen.

He moved his mouth up Wesley’s body, lapping up his own come. Goose bumps erupted across his skin, despite the unbelievable heat of Angel’s mouth. He moved higher and higher, and Wesley couldn’t resist running his fingers through Angel’s hair, the thick strands feathering against his skin. By the time Angel reached his neck, he was gripping the back of Angel’s head. His mouth was half open, and each breath was accompanied with a soft moan.

And then Angel claimed his mouth, stifling the moans. Simultaneously fanning the flames beneath Wesley’s skin, and soothing the worst of the pain. Wesley immediately locked his arms and legs around Angel’s body, clinging to him tightly as their tongues entwined. He tasted Angel’s come on his tongue, but he also tasted his own skin, his own sweat. Wesley closed his eyes and turned himself over to the growing passion and hunger, clinging to Angel’s mouth. He sought out the curves of Angel’s mouth, slid his tongue along Angel’s teeth, let himself remember just how good—how right—it felt to lose himself to the vampire’s embrace.

“Need you now,” Angel said.

“Yes,” Wesley panted. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Angel’s nimble fingers began working on his pants, and he managed to free the fly, but when he tried to yank the pants down Wesley’s hips, they refused to move. “Damned leather.”

Wesley smiled. “You’re the one who insisted on the pants.”

“Because they’re sexy.”

“Leather sticks. You should know that by now.”

“I haven’t worn in leather pants in two years.”

“You have a photographic memory. Especially when it comes to clothes.”

Angel smirked at him at sat up. “I’m tired of talking about clothes.”

His fingers closed around the waistband and he yanked hard enough to force half of Wesley’s body after the bed. But the pants cooperated, and he ripped them off with a triumphant growl. Wesley cried out, his erection too full and stiff to be flexible beneath the pants. Angel grabbed the back of his thighs and forced him off the bed to inspect his ass.

“It’s still red,” he murmured, with obvious satisfaction. “I think I need a taste.”

He pulled Wesley’s cheeks, exposing his clenched hole, and the first touch of his tongue sent such a shock through Wesley’s system that, for a moment, he thought it would be enough to make him come. His nerve-endings flared to life, and there was a high-pitched, unmistakable buzzing in his ears. Angel pushed his tongue deeper into his ass, working past the tight ring of muscle. Wesley gasped for breath, but it didn’t work. The buzzing grew louder. His heart lodged in his throat. Angel thrust his tongue in and out of his tight channel, stealing Wesley’s breath, making the room spin above his head.

Angel kneaded Wesley’s ass and the back of his thighs, working the muscles as he fucked him with his tongue. Wesley thrashed, grinding against his mouth, pushing himself against Angel’s teeth. With every passing second, he became more and more certain that he was ready for stiff cock. Not only that, but he needed it. He needed it if he was going to make it through the night without losing his mind.


“Please…Angel…please…”

“What?” The question was muffled against his flesh.

“Fuck me. Please. I need you, Angel. Please.”

Angel didn’t respond immediately, and for a horrible moment, Wesley thought he was just going to ignore him. And if Angel did just ignore him, what could he do about it? Nothing. Except lay there and beg some more. Wesley wasn’t above begging until his throat was sore and he could only rasp the words.

It didn’t come to that. Angel sat up and grasped Wesley’s wrists, pulling him into a seated position. Angel settled back against the headboard—just like he had been when Wesley first entered the room—and lifted Wesley up to settle him on his lap. Angel’s cock nudged his ass, the blunt tip pressing between his cheeks. The position put them eye to eye, and Wesley saw flecks of yellow in the brown depths of Angel’s eyes. The small hint of the demon emerging made Wesley’s heart race, but it didn’t make him pull away. Darts of desire stabbed his lower abdomen. He moved to shrug off his leather jacket, but Angel stopped him with a small shake of his head.

Wesley lifted himself on his knees and shuddered as Angel positioned the head of his cock at his hole. With echoing moans, Wesley sat back, sinking onto Angel’s shaft. He felt every single inch, but he didn’t regret not reaching for the lube. He wanted to feel all of Angel. Every sensation he could capture, he wanted to lock away, to hold with him forever. There was no guarantee he would ever feel it again, no guarantee he could ever look into Angel’s deep brown eyes, or feel Angel’s firm lips again. It might have been seconds, or minutes, or hours until he was fully seated, Angel’s cock twitching against his walls. Once again, time ceased to matter. The world outside Wesley’s window faded into nothingness.

Wesley felt safe when he was with Angel. And sometimes…a very few times…when Angel looked into his eyes, Wesley even felt loved. As though it were even possible for Angel to love him. But the impossibility became irrelevant when Angel was inside of him, stretching Wesley, molding him to fit Angel’s size, his need.

Wesley couldn’t move. So he wrapped his arms around Angel and kissed him, showing him what he needed, what he felt. Angel gripped his hips and gently eased him up and down. They rocked together, the strokes shallow so as much of Angel could stay inside of Wesley at all times. Wesley’s cock slid against Angel’s stomach, and their mouths were locked together, and rich smell of leather combined with the scent of fucking.

Just minutes before, Wesley had been desperate to come, but now he didn’t care if he ever climaxed. He just let Angel guide him further and further from the doubts that plagued, the anxieties he couldn’t let go of, the demons that lurked behind every corner. With Angel leading the way, he could pretend he was graceful, that his body wasn’t constantly rebelling against him, that his failings belonged to somebody else. He could even pretend to absorb some of Angel’s strength. So when they finally parted and Wesley had to be on his own, he could survive.

The orgasm struck him without warning. He didn’t build up to it, block by block. He didn’t brace himself for it. He didn’t even know what triggered it. His cock jerked, and pleasure, thick and hot, settled around him, melted through him, weighed down his arms and head. He moaned because he couldn’t do anything else, and because Angel hadn’t stopped moving, and because he lacked the strength to form Angel’s name. He buried his face in Angel’s neck, inhaling the wonderful bouquet that always clung to Angel’s skin. Angel moved a hand up and down his spine in an oddly soothing gesture, but he didn’t stop moving.

“Wesley…”

The sound of his name triggered a series of aftershocks. His body jerked with a strange surge of electricity, and he clamped his walls around Angel’s cock, squeezing so that Angel could barely move at all.

“Wesley.”

Everything erupted a second time, but this time, it was Angel’s orgasm that rushed through him. Angel growled with the force of his eruption, the sound wrapping tightly around Wesley’s chest. Angel’s solid body vibrated beneath him, his cock jerking again and again, coating Wesley’s channel. Gradually, they both stopped moving. Spent. Exhausted and trembling in the thick summer air.