Author: Kay
Email: kaygrr@hotmail.com
Feedback: Please? Because watching a grown girl cry is just pathetic.
Website: ssfdu.tripod.com/kay/journal.htm (love for Sandy)
Archive: Just let me know, eh?
Fandom: Angel the Series
Pairing: Wesley/Angel
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Mine? What? *These*? No, they're Mutant Enemy's. They just followed me home and wouldn't leave until I played with them.
Spoilers: Um, let's just go with the last season of Angel, although I can't really see how this bit of smut would spoil anything <g>
Summery: Angel has a plan to get Wesley into bed...but ends up playing by Wesley's rules.
Special Offer
By Kay
Angel held the book open in front of him, even though he had long since stopped paying any attention to the words on the pages. He'd only picked it up as ruse to cover the true object of his interest, anyway. All his attention was focused on the door to Wesley's office. Wesley had just gone in, returning after spending a few hours searching out a potential source of
information. He'd looked tired.
Angel was going to take care of that. He knew Wesley was feeling a little frustrated by how long it was taking him to find the information that he wanted, and he'd worked out the perfect way for his lover to relieve that frustration. His plan was also going to go a long way in solving Angel's own frustration; he and Wesley hadn't played together in a while. With Cordy and Gunn out of the hotel, today was the perfect day to remedy that situation. Angel wanted to fix that, and what he'd done in Wesley's office was the first step.
Sure enough, Wesley came back out the door a few minutes after going on, frowning furiously as he held up a packet of envelopes. "What is this?"
Angel loved how very precise the gray-eyed man's accent became when he was irritated. "Mail?" he suggested, the picture of innocence.
"Junk mail," Wesley said, waving the packet in front of Angel's face. "You left junk mail on my desk. This trash is supposed to go directly into the waste bin."
"I forgot," Angel said in a deliberately casual tone. He knew Wesley hated junk mail, hated the accumulation of useless offers and advertisements that could pile up over all available surfaces. Deliberately giving him junk mail was like insulting Gunn's truck or telling Cordelia that chocolate was chocolate - it all tasted the same.
"You forgot." Wesley stared at him, a sudden spark of comprehension in his gaze. "Perhaps you need a lesson to help you with your sudden memory problems."
Carefully hiding his triumph, Angel shrugged. "It's just junk mail." This was it. Wesley was irritated and needed a release for his frustration. They had the rest of the night free and Angel didn't want to waste it. He'd just handed his lover the perfect excuse to help them both relieve their frustration.
"Get upstairs," Wesley said.
"I was reading," Angel protested.
"And now you are going upstairs." Wesley cocked his head to the side impatiently, but his eyes revealed warmth and more than a little deviltry.
Angel ducked his head to hide his smile. He loved it when Wesley got like this, all orders and forcefulness. He usually staged something like this to provoke his lover into this attitude, so different from Wesley's usual diffident stance. Angel walked up the stairs quickly, aware the entire time of Wesley close behind them.
As soon as they were in their room, Wesley was leaning back against the closed door. "Strip."
Repressing a delighted shiver, Angel quickly complied, tossing his clothing carelessly to the floor.
"Get on the bed."
Angel stretched himself out across the bed, draping himself over the sheets and putting on a bit of a show for Wesley's benefit.
"No, no, no. Face up." Wesley didn't seem that impressed.
Angel quickly rolled over onto his back. He watched as Wesley walked toward him. The thin man reached under the bed and pulled out the set of chains they used when they played this sort of game. He offered up no resistance as his arms were chained to the headboard. Once the manacles were locked around his wrists, Angel tested them. He was held immobile, ready for whatever punishment Wesley wanted to mete out.
Angel watched Wesley careful, hardly able to wait to see what his lover would come up with. Wesley slowly pulled his shirt over his head, placing it on the back of a chair. He then removed his socks and shoes, then his pants. Angel watched eagerly as every inch of flesh was revealed, a slow tease that was as pleasurable as it was maddening. Finally, Wesley shimmied out of his boxers and stood naked before him, wearing nothing but his glasses and a frown.
Licking his lips, Angel watched in anticipation as Wesley walked to stand beside the bed. He allowed a small smile to touch his lips as Wesley raised his hand...
...and opened up one of the pieces of junk mail. "Dear Sir," he said, reading from the letter inside. "You have been selected to receive a new credit card. You have been pre-approved, so all you have to do is fill out this application and your new card will arrive in the mail. This card will allow you to-"
"Wes?" Angel asked, interrupting. "What are you doing?"
"Reading the mail," Wesley said. "This card will allow you to make purchases-"
"Why are you reading the mail?" This wasn't how it was supposed to go. A spanking, yes. A spanking would be perfect. But reading the mail?
"I want you to understand just how irritating this rubbish is. Now do be quiet or I shall have to gag you."
Glaring mutinously, Angel silenced himself. He watched in disbelief as Wesley slowly read through each piece of mail. Angel tried to distract himself by looking at his lover's body, admiring the new lines of muscle that were slowly developing on it, lingering over his favorite places to stroke and nuzzle, but the relentless banality of the words Wesley read were ruining his enjoyment.
Wesley opened yet another envelope. "Dear sir, we wish to extend to you an offer that you will surely appreciate. 'Luminat' is the premiere magazine for educated persons with an interest in the occult." He paused, staring down at the letter.
Angel craned his neck and fought against the chains, trying to see what had captured Wesley's attention. It did him no good and he relaxed back against the pillows.
Wesley began to read once more, but instead of continuing on in the same bored tone, this time he was interested. "Produced by researchers with impeccable backgrounds, 'Luminat' is an unparalleled research tool for the discerning scholar." Wesley's free hand drifted across his chest, skimming a nipple. "Each article is painstakingly researched and composed by an expert in the field and subjected to rigorous scrutiny before inclusion in the publication." He pinched his nipple once, then again, gasping a little at the sensation.
What the hell? Angel struggled against the chains once more, even though he knew it would do him no good. He could smell arousal building in Wesley, and desire began coursing through him to match that of his lover's.
Sliding his hand down to stroke through the dark hair at the base of his growing erection, Wesley continued to read. "Every week a new full color issue of 'Luminat' will be delivered to your door, containing the very latest in demonic and occult research." He loosely fisted his erection and began to slowly pump the rigid flesh. "Each issue features interviews with the foremost demonologists, spiritualists, mediums, and scholars of pertinent fields, all exclusive to the 'Luminat' reader." His voice grew breathy as he sped up the strokes over his cock. "A subscription includes a weekly edition of 'Luminat', four special issues a year, and a leather-bound collector's edition of Gregory's 'Studies in Millenarianism'." Wesley's breath came in harsh pants. "All this can be yours for the low price of just nineteen ninety-five!" As he read the price, Wesley came, spattering Angel's chest with warm fluid.
Angel stared at him in disbelief. This wasn't how the game was supposed to be played. Where were the spankings? Where were the admonitions that he shouldn't be such a naughty vampire? Where were the toys they'd invested so much time in trying out?
Wesley slowly caught his breath. His skin flushed, he smiled down at the letter as he gathered up his clothes and headed for the door.
"Where are you going?" Angel asked.
"I'm going to go take a shower, and then I am going to send back this order form," Wesley answered. "This really is a remarkably good offer."
"What about me?" Angel demanded, jerking the chains at his wrists. He could feel Wesley's seed on his chest, the scent of it driving him mad.
Wesley leveled a firm stare at him. "You are going to sit there and think about what you've done." He nodded decisively and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Angel stared after him in disbelief. Wesley couldn't be serious, could he? He couldn't be that upset over the junk mail. He was just teasing Angel. Any moment he was going to come back and then there would be good old-fashioned disciplinary fun to be had by all. Angel resisted the urge to beg Wesley to come back. This was just a new variation of the games they
played, that was all. He'd be back at any moment.
Any moment now.
Any moment.
"Wesley!"
*****
END NOTE: This started out as a random bit of images I was writing to try to get Sandy's attention...and they wouldn't go away. It's all Sandy's fault. Having no will power, I had to write this to get them out of my head. Thanks for letting me Share!