A Foot Thing - Ats, Angel/Wes, NC-17
Jan. 18th, 2006 09:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phantismaTitle: A Foot Thing
Rating: NC-17 for the sex
Word Count: 1395
Spoilers: Sometime late season 2 or early season 3
Pairing: Angel/Wesley
Summary: Angel lusts after Wesley's naked feet...and Wesley takes charge of the situation...
*cross posted to AO3*
Wesley was on the phone, probably talking to Cordelia. Angel could hear his voice, low, casual. He walked past the balcony window where Angel lurked, his eyes on something in his hands.
Angel only had a sliver of sight, between the slightly parted curtains, but he relished the view. This was a side of Wesley he had never seen. There was laughter and Wesley came back into view. His faded jeans hung low on his hips. His shirt was half unbuttoned, no longer tucked into his jeans as it had been when Angel had seen him last. When he moved just right, Angel could see his strong chest.
Wesley’s long fingers circled the handset of the phone. Angel had always loved Wesley’s hands. Long, delicate fingers led to a perfect palm and into exquisite wrists. They were the hands of a gentleman, bred for holding books and writing papers. The fact that they hid a strength most people would never expect from a man like Wesley and the way they handled certain weapons drove Angel wild. He found himself wondering how they would look in shackles and turned his attention to something else.
Wesley was walking out of sight again and Angel shifted to try to keep him in sight. His eyes traveled down Wesley’s back, over the un-tucked shirt. He lingered for a moment at his ass, but Wesley turned to lean back against the wall.
Angel wasn’t supposed to even be there, not like this. He was only pausing to check on Wesley after the altercation the day before. The ambush had been expected, but the numbers were not. Wesley had insisted he was fine, but Angel worried.
In fact, Angel worried about Wesley a lot these days. He shook his head. He should go. But…his eyes were caught on Wesley’s feet. They were bare. Angel didn’t think he had ever seen Wesley’s feet before. The whole image was of a Wesley Angel didn’t know.
Like his hands, Wesley’s feet were long, slender. They pressed against the dark carpet, his toes curled against the fibers, then relaxing. From where he stood Angel could just make out the rippling of the bones beneath the skin as Wesley moved his toes. He imagined the skin would be smooth, like the skin on Wesley’s hands, well cared for.
The big toe on his left foot was bent slightly, the tip pushing outward from the other toes. The nails were neatly trimmed. And they were bare. Naked. Only people comfortable in their surroundings walk around barefoot. Confident people. Wesley had always seemed the kind who was never comfortable anywhere. If was one of the things Angel found endearing about him. Something Angel had secretly hoped he could help Wesley change.
He found it intriguing, and shifted again to accommodate his body’s apparent response to Wesley’s naked feet. He needed to leave. He took a step back from the long balcony windows, his eyes traveling slowly up Wesley’s body. Angel started when he found those blue eyes staring at him.
“In fact, he’s here now. I’ll call you back.”
Angel felt trapped, locked in place as Wesley’s naked feet crossed the carpeted floor and those hands opened the windows. ”Angel.”
“Wesley…I—I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you were okay.”
“Most people use the front door.”
“I wasn’t going to disturb you.”
Wesley nodded, his eyes sweeping over the dark clothes that Angel preferred. “Are you going to come in?”
“No…I mean I—Do you want me to?”
Wesley sighed. “Come in Angel.” He let go of the window and padded away, his feet making the tiniest of sounds as they brushed the carpeting. “Can I offer you some tea? Wine? Blood?”
Angel stopped, halfway into the room. “You have blood?”
Wesley chuckled. “Yes, I usually keep some on hand in case you come by.”
“Good to know.”
Angel stood with his hands in his pockets. This felt…weird. He wasn’t sure what to say or do now that he was there. “So, how are you feeling?” he finally asked, just as Wesley emerged from the kitchen and offered him a cup with what smelled like pig’s blood.
“I told you this afternoon, I’m fine. Just a little stiff.”
“I know. I worry. That shouldn’t have been that close.”
“If not for you and Gunn, it wouldn’t have been. It would have been over.”
They moved together into the living room. Angel watched as Wesley claimed the chair, tucking one foot up under him and staking the other into the edge of the cushion. It was a posture he would never expected of Wesley. “Well, next time…” Angel’s voice trailed off, his eyes riveted on Wesley’s toes as he unconsciously wiggled them in a slow pattern, like playing scales on a piano.
After a long silence, Wesley chuckled. “This isn’t what I expected, exactly.”
Angel looked at him, confused. “What?”
“This.” Wesley made a gesture pointing back and forth between them.
“What this?” Angel asked, mimicking the gesture.
“You and me…this…thing we’re doing.”
“I’m doing a thing?”
Wesley’s smile could have lit up the whole hotel as he pulled his foot out and leaned forward. “You certainly are.” He wiggled his toes and Angel’s eyes went to them instantly. “Incidentally, I never figured you for a foot man.”
“I’m not…mostly.”
Angel tore his eyes away from the toes and stood. “I should go. You need to rest and –“
Wesley stood too. “And you’re uncomfortable. I understand. You might use the front door to leave though.”
“I’m not uncomfortable.”
“It’s okay, Angel. I can wait.”
“Wait? Wait for what?”
Wesley took the cup out of his hands and set it on the end table near the couch. His kiss was soft, chaste and it caught Angel completely off guard. Wesley walked to the front door and Angel followed, slightly dazed. “When you figure it out, you’ll know where to find me.” Wesley said, that same smile on his face.
Angel started through the door, but stopped. He turned back to Wesley. His lips were still warm from Wesley’s touch, his body was humming with a desire he hadn’t felt in a long time. “I—I—need to be careful,” he said, not much above a whisper.
Wesley’s hand rose to Angel’s cheek. “I know.”
Angel captured that hand, kissed the palm and pressed it against his cheek. “I—I—I’m not sure—“
Wesley’s other hand covered Angel’s lips. “I know.” He took a step closer, and Angel’s hands instinctively circled Wesley’s waist. Wesley’s second kiss was deeper, but just as soft, his lips gently brushing Angel’s until Angel’s mouth opened just a little, allowing Wesley’s tongue access. He tasted like beer and Thai food.
The next few moments were a blur as the door closed and Wesley drew Angel back into the apartment, leading him with kisses and burning touches of fingers on what bare skin Angel showed. Then that bare skin was growing and Angel found himself without shoes and shirt, pinned to the wall by the feeling of Wesley’s chest against his…Wesley’s lips against his…Wesley’s feet socializing with his legs….Wesley’s long, nimble fingers parting his zipper…Wesley’s palm cupping around his cock, which was already hard.
If Angel had breath, he’d have been panting. He settled for a low moan as Wesley neatly dropped to his knees and sucked the whole thing into his mouth. Here too was more of the Wesley Angel didn’t know, but…another moan as Wesley’s tongue flitted over the surface skin, his fingers slowly massaging Angel’s testicles….Angel’s knees were growing weak, but he pressed into the wall behind him as his conscious thought narrowed down to Wesley, his mouth and the things it was doing to his cock..
He wasn’t even aware of the noise he was making, between the moaning and the pounding of his fists against the wall behind him. Wesley’s head bobbed up and down, drawing him out to orgasm with a calm urgency. Angel came with a mangled cry followed by a slow slump down the wall, his eyes closed, his head buzzing.
Wesley was smiling again when Angel opened his eyes.
“See, a thing.” Wesley said. He quirked an eyebrow up. He moved so that he was sitting rather than kneeling and brought his bare feet up to rest on Angel’s chest. “A foot thing.”
Rating: NC-17 for the sex
Word Count: 1395
Spoilers: Sometime late season 2 or early season 3
Pairing: Angel/Wesley
Summary: Angel lusts after Wesley's naked feet...and Wesley takes charge of the situation...
*cross posted to AO3*
Wesley was on the phone, probably talking to Cordelia. Angel could hear his voice, low, casual. He walked past the balcony window where Angel lurked, his eyes on something in his hands.
Angel only had a sliver of sight, between the slightly parted curtains, but he relished the view. This was a side of Wesley he had never seen. There was laughter and Wesley came back into view. His faded jeans hung low on his hips. His shirt was half unbuttoned, no longer tucked into his jeans as it had been when Angel had seen him last. When he moved just right, Angel could see his strong chest.
Wesley’s long fingers circled the handset of the phone. Angel had always loved Wesley’s hands. Long, delicate fingers led to a perfect palm and into exquisite wrists. They were the hands of a gentleman, bred for holding books and writing papers. The fact that they hid a strength most people would never expect from a man like Wesley and the way they handled certain weapons drove Angel wild. He found himself wondering how they would look in shackles and turned his attention to something else.
Wesley was walking out of sight again and Angel shifted to try to keep him in sight. His eyes traveled down Wesley’s back, over the un-tucked shirt. He lingered for a moment at his ass, but Wesley turned to lean back against the wall.
Angel wasn’t supposed to even be there, not like this. He was only pausing to check on Wesley after the altercation the day before. The ambush had been expected, but the numbers were not. Wesley had insisted he was fine, but Angel worried.
In fact, Angel worried about Wesley a lot these days. He shook his head. He should go. But…his eyes were caught on Wesley’s feet. They were bare. Angel didn’t think he had ever seen Wesley’s feet before. The whole image was of a Wesley Angel didn’t know.
Like his hands, Wesley’s feet were long, slender. They pressed against the dark carpet, his toes curled against the fibers, then relaxing. From where he stood Angel could just make out the rippling of the bones beneath the skin as Wesley moved his toes. He imagined the skin would be smooth, like the skin on Wesley’s hands, well cared for.
The big toe on his left foot was bent slightly, the tip pushing outward from the other toes. The nails were neatly trimmed. And they were bare. Naked. Only people comfortable in their surroundings walk around barefoot. Confident people. Wesley had always seemed the kind who was never comfortable anywhere. If was one of the things Angel found endearing about him. Something Angel had secretly hoped he could help Wesley change.
He found it intriguing, and shifted again to accommodate his body’s apparent response to Wesley’s naked feet. He needed to leave. He took a step back from the long balcony windows, his eyes traveling slowly up Wesley’s body. Angel started when he found those blue eyes staring at him.
“In fact, he’s here now. I’ll call you back.”
Angel felt trapped, locked in place as Wesley’s naked feet crossed the carpeted floor and those hands opened the windows. ”Angel.”
“Wesley…I—I just wanted to check on you. Make sure you were okay.”
“Most people use the front door.”
“I wasn’t going to disturb you.”
Wesley nodded, his eyes sweeping over the dark clothes that Angel preferred. “Are you going to come in?”
“No…I mean I—Do you want me to?”
Wesley sighed. “Come in Angel.” He let go of the window and padded away, his feet making the tiniest of sounds as they brushed the carpeting. “Can I offer you some tea? Wine? Blood?”
Angel stopped, halfway into the room. “You have blood?”
Wesley chuckled. “Yes, I usually keep some on hand in case you come by.”
“Good to know.”
Angel stood with his hands in his pockets. This felt…weird. He wasn’t sure what to say or do now that he was there. “So, how are you feeling?” he finally asked, just as Wesley emerged from the kitchen and offered him a cup with what smelled like pig’s blood.
“I told you this afternoon, I’m fine. Just a little stiff.”
“I know. I worry. That shouldn’t have been that close.”
“If not for you and Gunn, it wouldn’t have been. It would have been over.”
They moved together into the living room. Angel watched as Wesley claimed the chair, tucking one foot up under him and staking the other into the edge of the cushion. It was a posture he would never expected of Wesley. “Well, next time…” Angel’s voice trailed off, his eyes riveted on Wesley’s toes as he unconsciously wiggled them in a slow pattern, like playing scales on a piano.
After a long silence, Wesley chuckled. “This isn’t what I expected, exactly.”
Angel looked at him, confused. “What?”
“This.” Wesley made a gesture pointing back and forth between them.
“What this?” Angel asked, mimicking the gesture.
“You and me…this…thing we’re doing.”
“I’m doing a thing?”
Wesley’s smile could have lit up the whole hotel as he pulled his foot out and leaned forward. “You certainly are.” He wiggled his toes and Angel’s eyes went to them instantly. “Incidentally, I never figured you for a foot man.”
“I’m not…mostly.”
Angel tore his eyes away from the toes and stood. “I should go. You need to rest and –“
Wesley stood too. “And you’re uncomfortable. I understand. You might use the front door to leave though.”
“I’m not uncomfortable.”
“It’s okay, Angel. I can wait.”
“Wait? Wait for what?”
Wesley took the cup out of his hands and set it on the end table near the couch. His kiss was soft, chaste and it caught Angel completely off guard. Wesley walked to the front door and Angel followed, slightly dazed. “When you figure it out, you’ll know where to find me.” Wesley said, that same smile on his face.
Angel started through the door, but stopped. He turned back to Wesley. His lips were still warm from Wesley’s touch, his body was humming with a desire he hadn’t felt in a long time. “I—I—need to be careful,” he said, not much above a whisper.
Wesley’s hand rose to Angel’s cheek. “I know.”
Angel captured that hand, kissed the palm and pressed it against his cheek. “I—I—I’m not sure—“
Wesley’s other hand covered Angel’s lips. “I know.” He took a step closer, and Angel’s hands instinctively circled Wesley’s waist. Wesley’s second kiss was deeper, but just as soft, his lips gently brushing Angel’s until Angel’s mouth opened just a little, allowing Wesley’s tongue access. He tasted like beer and Thai food.
The next few moments were a blur as the door closed and Wesley drew Angel back into the apartment, leading him with kisses and burning touches of fingers on what bare skin Angel showed. Then that bare skin was growing and Angel found himself without shoes and shirt, pinned to the wall by the feeling of Wesley’s chest against his…Wesley’s lips against his…Wesley’s feet socializing with his legs….Wesley’s long, nimble fingers parting his zipper…Wesley’s palm cupping around his cock, which was already hard.
If Angel had breath, he’d have been panting. He settled for a low moan as Wesley neatly dropped to his knees and sucked the whole thing into his mouth. Here too was more of the Wesley Angel didn’t know, but…another moan as Wesley’s tongue flitted over the surface skin, his fingers slowly massaging Angel’s testicles….Angel’s knees were growing weak, but he pressed into the wall behind him as his conscious thought narrowed down to Wesley, his mouth and the things it was doing to his cock..
He wasn’t even aware of the noise he was making, between the moaning and the pounding of his fists against the wall behind him. Wesley’s head bobbed up and down, drawing him out to orgasm with a calm urgency. Angel came with a mangled cry followed by a slow slump down the wall, his eyes closed, his head buzzing.
Wesley was smiling again when Angel opened his eyes.
“See, a thing.” Wesley said. He quirked an eyebrow up. He moved so that he was sitting rather than kneeling and brought his bare feet up to rest on Angel’s chest. “A foot thing.”
