Those Who Favor Fire by WesleysGirl Rating: NC-17 Connor/Wesley Written as an exercise in self-indulgence. Many thanks to Jave Davitt for the beta. It wasn't that he hadn't liked kissing her -- his body's reaction had proven, all too strongly, how much he'd liked it. It was just that the look she'd given him, and the way she'd called him baby... it was all too much. So Connor left the museum, and the room that was safe even though nothing was safe in the middle of the rain of fire. Most people, or at least the ones who had somewhere to go, were off the streets. He could still hear people screaming. Buildings were burning. Glass was breaking. In some ways it was kind of like L.A. had been transformed into Quortoth. Which was weird, because even though Connor had known that Quortoth was a bad place, a dangerous place, it had also been a familiar place. He was used to it. Even the vampires seemed to be in hiding, which he guessed made sense since fire was falling from the sky. He'd been wandering around for a long time -- walking in circles that kept leading back to the museum, because he wasn't ready to go too far away from Cordy -- when he spotted Angel on the outside of the building, looking in through a window. The vampire was way up high, and Connor could tell that he was looking in on their room. Watching Cordy. Connor didn't wait to see what would happen. Would Cordy go to the window and let him in? Would she kiss him the way she'd kissed Connor? There was no doubt in his mind that she'd rather have been kissing Angel. This time he headed away from the museum and didn't look back. A straight line instead of a circle, not knowing where he was going. Not caring. He was only dimly aware that he could get into trouble like this, not paying attention to his surroundings like he was supposed to be. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Connor crashed into someone. He jumped back, raising his hands protectively, trying to get his bearings, but the voice that spoke to him was familiar. "It's all right!" Wesley. With his own hands held up in front of him, but with his palms facing Connor as if in surrender. "It's all right. It's me. Are you hurt?" Connor shook his head briefly. "No. I'm fine." Relaxing a little bit, Wesley said, "I was looking for Angel. We didn't see him after... well. There was a battle." "And you lost," Connor said. He gestured above, to the sky. "He's okay. I saw him. He was... checking on Cordy." "They're both all right?" "Yeah." Picturing the two of them together again, Connor started to turn away, but Wesley reached out and put a hand on his arm. It felt... good. A warm, human touch, like Holtz's. "You shouldn't be out here," Wesley said. His voice was gentle. "It's not safe." "Nothing's safe," Connor said. Wesley smiled, just a little bit. It made his face look almost beautiful, Connor thought. "No, I suppose not. Still, there are places safer than this." "I guess." Connor knew that he sounded sullen. "Come with me," Wesley urged. "Just until this is over." "Will it be?" Connor started to follow Wesley, because he really didn't have anywhere else to go, and it was nice not to be alone. "Over?" "I'd imagine so. I --" Wesley broke off as they both stepped underneath an awning when a ball of fire came a bit too close for comfort, and then continued on. "I don't think it can last forever. Although I'm sure this is just the beginning of a series of unpleasant events." "Do you know how to stop it?" Wesley glanced at him in what looked like surprise. "No. But we'll find a way. We always have." They kept walking. "Do you think --" Connor started, and then another ball of fire came hurtling toward them. Reacting more quickly than a human could have, he grabbed Wesley and pushed him into the nearest doorway, flush up against the glass. The flames exploded at their feet, spreading out into an evaporating ripple like dropping a stone into water. Connor realized that he was pressed up against Wesley. Wesley was warm and he smelled good, and before Connor could even finish that thought in his head he was already hard. He glanced up at Wesley, who was just standing there, one hand on Connor's upper arm. "That was -- " Wesley cleared his throat. "Thank you." "Yeah." Connor backed off, still looking at Wesley thoughtfully. He could tell the older man was flustered, but trying to pretend he wasn't. Starting down the sidewalk again, Wesley gestured at a building up ahead. "Perhaps we should get under cover for a few hours. Or however long it takes for this to stop." "Okay." Connor followed Wesley into the hotel -- an actual hotel, not one that just used to be -- and stood back while Wesley talked to the desk guy. When Wesley turned around, he was holding a key in his hand. "Seems we weren't the only ones who thought it might be wise to get off the streets," he said. "We got the last room." Connor nodded. He was still hard inside his jeans, though the ache was starting to fade a little bit. They went up to the room. There were two beds with a table between them, a desk and chair, and a dresser that had a television on top of it. When Wesley turned it on, there was nothing but static, hissing gray and hopeless. "The cable reception must be out," Wesley said, and turned it off again. "What do we do now?" Connor moved over to the window and looked out, watching as the sky continued to rain fire. "Wait until morning and hope that the worst of it's over by then." Wesley joined him, standing just behind him. "You should get some sleep, if you can." "Sleep?" Connor knew he sounded bitter, and didn't care. "I can't sleep. This is all my fault." Wesley put a hand on his shoulder and turned him around. The touch was hesitant, like he wasn't sure how Connor was going to react. "Why do you think that?" Part of him wanted to pull away, but again, the touch reminded him of Holtz, more than any of Angel's touches ever had. "That thing... that Beast... it came up out of the ground where I was born. That has to mean something. It's here because of me." With a dismissive shake of his head, Wesley tightened his grip slightly. "It's just as likely that you were born there because there's something significant about that particular spot. It doesn't mean that you're responsible." "You don't know that." "This isn't your fault, Connor." He turned back to look out the window again. "The world's ending, isn't it." "I hope not." "Why? What do you have that you still want it to be there tomorrow? Your friends don't want you anymore. " Connor felt Wesley stiffen slightly at that, but when he spoke his voice was still calm. "Life is complicated, that's true. That doesn't mean I'm ready for it to be over quite yet." "Don't you ever get tired?" Connor was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of trying to do the right thing when he didn't know what that was. "Yes," Wesley said. His hand patted Connor's shoulder comfortingly. "Again, you could try to sleep?" He could feel tears in his eyes, and he tried to blame it on his exhaustion. "I hate it here." Wesley's arm slipped around him, across his chest, and pulled him back against Wesley's body. "It's all right. Things will be better in the morning." "How can you say that?" The words slipped out before Connor could stop himself, not that he was sure he would have tried. He turned around to look at Wesley, their faces inches apart. "Things never get better. You fight and you fight and it doesn't make a difference." "It does," Wesley said, his fingers moving to tuck Connor's hair back behind his ear. "You *are* making a difference. You mustn't doubt that." Wesley's lips were so close. Without thinking about it, Connor leaned forward and kissed him, hoping it would give him some of the same kind of comfort Cordy's kiss had. For a few seconds it seemed like Wesley was kissing him back, but then the older man took a step backwards, breaking the contact. "Connor, this isn't... this isn't a good idea." Connor took half a step closer, tilting his head to the side a little bit. "But you want to." He could smell Wesley's arousal. "This isn't about what I want." "What if it's about what *I* want?" Connor took the other half step, desperation making him brave in this situation where he normally would have backed off immediately. The ache in his groin intensified as the front of his pants brushed against Wesley's. "You're Angel's son." W esley sounded less calm now, less certain. "So? He doesn't want you. He wants Cordy." Wesley shook his head. "This isn't about what Angel wants either, although I can say with some assurance that he doesn't want any sort of... involvement between the two of us." "What if I don't care what he wants?" "And is this what *you* want?" Connor pressed himself closer to Wesley, and shuddered at the increased contact. "This might be the end of the world. It might be my last chance. My only chance." Something in Wesley's eyes softened, and he slid a hand up into Connor's hair. "And what if it's not? What if we wake up in the morning and everything's still here?" "Then we'll still be here," Connor breathed, and kissed Wesley again. Kissing a man was different from kissing a woman -- Cordelia was softer, and she smelled kind of pretty, instead of like sweat and fear. This seemed more real, somehow. Wesley's lips were hard, and after a minute his tongue pushed its way into Connor's mouth, tasting him. Connor reached down between them, cupping Wesley's hardness through his jeans, wanting proof that this was real and that he wasn't the only one who knew it. Wesley groaned and kissed him harder, pushing against Connor's hand. "You're sure?" Wesley asked, breathing heavily. "Yeah, I'm sure." He wanted to feel Wesley's skin, so he pulled back enough to yank Wesley's shirt over his head, not bothering with buttons, and then took his own shirt off too. He reached for Wesley's hand and pressed it to the front of his pants, where no hand but his own had ever touched. "There. Doesn't that feel sure to you?" Wesley's fingers kneaded and then squeezed, and almost before Connor knew what was happening he was coming, so hard that it took his breath away. He had to cling to Wes to stay upright as he shuddered with the force of it because the pleasure made him weak in the knees. Awash with shame, Connor looked down. "I -- " Wesley kissed him again, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his lips. "It's all right. You're young -- it happens. There's plenty of time." His mouth slid down over Connor's and then lower, down across the sensitive skin on Connor's throat, making him shiver. When Wesley's tongue flicked over Connor's nipple, he moaned softly and clenched his fists. It felt... warm, and wet, and new. He thought he wanted it to go on forever, and then Wesley scraped with his teeth and Connor felt his cock twitch like it was waking up again. "I didn't know it would feel like this." "Like what?" Wesley murmured. "Good. This good." "It gets better." Wesley's tongue moved lower, and Wesley's hands were undoing the button on his pants and sliding the zipper down. Connor was half-hard again, and when Wesley licked his cock he cried out and thrust his hips forward, unable to stop himself. "More," he begged. "Please. I need..." Wesley straightened up, away from him, hands going to his own belt and starting to undo it. "Take off your pants," he ordered. There was a part of Connor that wanted to say 'no.' That wanted to be uncooperative, defiant. But the thought of Wesley's skin on his, skin on skin... He quickly got undressed, kicking his sneakers into a corner of the room and wrestling the pants off. Seconds later, Wesley was naked too, standing there looking at Connor appraisingly. "What?" Connor felt his brows draw down at the scrutiny. "Nothing," Wesley said, stepping closer and slipping an arm around Connor's waist. "I was just thinking that -- never mind." Connor let his hand slide between them, touching Wesley's erection curiously. It wasn't very different from his own -- about the same size, about the same skin tone. His finger brushed over the head and Wesley choked back a little sound of pleasure. Connor smiled. "It feels nice, doesn't it?" "Yes, it does." Wesley's own hand was touching Connor again. "Would you like to lie down?" "Okay." On their sides, facing each other, they kissed some more. Connor's hands explored Wesley's body eagerly, liking the way the older man moved into his touch. Wesley brought two fingers up to Connor's mouth, and after a few seconds of hesitation, Connor parted his lips and let Wesley slip them inside. He sucked on them, remembering with a surge of arousal how it had felt to have Wesley's tongue on his cock. Then his thighs were parted, his top leg bent at the knee, and those wet fingers were sliding back behind his balls, playing with an area so sensitive that Connor trembled. "That's... I don't..." "Shh," Wesley said, silencing him with a kiss and then pushing one finger into Connor. He felt his cock twitch, but the sensation was... well, not all good. It felt wrong, somehow. "I don't -- " he tried to say again, and again Wesley kissed him. "Shh," Wesley repeated. "Give it a moment -- relax." And because Wesley's forearm was pressing against Connor's erection, he did try to relax, and that intruding finger slid further in and brushed over something that made his cock throb with need. "Oh." Wesley traced Connor's lower lip with his tongue, and moved his finger over that swollen spot again. "I won't fuck you unless you want me to," Wesley said. He slid down and licked the head of Connor's aching erection, making Connor gasp and close his eyes. "That's it. Good boy." Connor couldn't have stayed still for anything. He wanted more. "Will it feel good?" He wasn't afraid of a little pain, he told himself, but he didn't want to do anything if he wasn't going to get something out of it. He was sick of doing stuff just because someone else wanted him to. In response, Wesley circled the head of his cock with his tongue and stroked with his finger, and Connor cried out and arched off the mattress. Wesley stopped what he was doing and pulled Connor up to a sitting position, kissing him with lips that tasted a little bit salty. "Your turn," he said, and got up onto his knees. Wesley's hand stroked his own cock a couple of times, and then moved down to his balls. "Get it good and wet." Uncertain, Connor looked at the cock in front of his face and then up at Wesley. "You want me to...?" The fingers of Wesley's other hand brushed over Connor's jawline. "It'll feel good," he said, in answer to Connor's earlier question. "Let me show you." Connor leaned forward and did what Wesley had done to him -- licked his cock, just tracing the length of it with his tongue, leaving a slick trail of saliva across the warm skin. It didn't taste bad, and the way Wesley's breathing changed when he did it made him grin. "It's good." "It's very good," Wesley confirmed. "Do it just like that." Connor licked with more confidence the second time, and then started to see what things would make Wesley's breathing hitch in his throat. He flicked his tongue over the head of Wesley's cock, delicately, then took the whole thing into his mouth and sucked on it, which made Wesley groan softly. He'd just started to experiment with how far into his mouth he could take it -- which made *him* groan just as loudly as Wesley -- when the other man pulled back abruptly. "Turn around," he ordered. "On your hands and knees." Connor scraped his teeth over the sensitive head of Wesley's cock. "Say 'please.'" "I'm not -- " Wesley started, and then interrupted himself. More calmly, "Please." "Okay." Connor turned around, feeling kind of stupid with his ass in the air and his hard shaft throbbing between his legs. A slick finger pushed its way into him again. This time it felt good, and Connor rocked back against it. Before he could get used to it, though, he felt Wesley's finger withdraw and something much bigger pressing against his ass. "Just relax," Wesley said, one hand on Connor's hip moving in little circles, like comfort. Wesley's cock was wet and slippery -- and Connor knew that some of that was his own spit -- but it felt huge as it pushed into him. Like it was going to split him open. Connor set his jaw and stubbornly refused to make a sound, but his body had its own idea and tried to move away from the pain. Wesley didn't try to hold him still -- not that he could have -- but he stopped moving. "Do you want me to stop?" At the same time he asked the question, his other hand came around and gripped onto Connor's cock tightly. Connor shook his head. "You're sure?" "Yes." It took a lot to get the word out, but he did it. Wesley pushed forward again, hard and all at once this time, and Connor couldn't choke back a small cry. Wesley's hand moved from his hip to his ass, fingers trailing over the skin, making Connor shiver. "There," Wesley said, almost gently. "That's right." Connor didn't think that was the word he'd use. Wesley slid out, and as Connor relaxed in unconscious relief, took advantage of the moment to quickly push inside again. It didn't hurt as much this time, and there was the distraction of Wesley's hand on his cock, stroking carefully but not fast enough to let Connor forget that he was being fucked. "That's right," Wesley said again, thrusting a little bit more easily each time. He shoved himself in more forcefully, and Connor felt Wesley's cock hit that swelling inside of him that had been so sensitive before. It was like a jolt of electricity. "Yeah," he said. He wasn't sure if it was about how it felt, or if he was agreeing with Wesley, or what. Wesley's cock bumped that spot again, and Connor felt his own cock pulse in Wesley's hand. "More. Like that." Connor thought he heard Wesley chuckle, but the older man just moved again, deeper. Fucking him. He could feel his arm muscles tightening up as they supported his weight along with Wesley's, as his body began to respond to the stimulation with a growing sense of urgency. The curve of Wesley's index finger was rubbing over the ridge just underneath the head of his cock, making his foreskin slide back and forth. Making him crazy. "Good boy," Wesley said, and he sounded so much like Holtz that Connor had to bite his lip to keep from coming right then. There was something wrong about that, he knew there was, but he wasn't sure he cared. Everything was all tied up in something else, and Connor didn't care if he forgot what was right. "More," he said again, gritting his teeth to keep control, just for another minute. He wanted the approval, wanted to be told that he'd done a good job. Wesley was moving faster, fucking him harder, his cock hitting Connor in that same spot again and again. Connor's thighs were starting to ache as badly as his cock did -- tensed on the edge and trying *not* to come had suddenly turned into wanting to come and not being able to. He felt himself tremble, felt more than heard the low groan of desperation in his chest. He wasn't sure if it was coincidence, or if Wesley figured out what was going on and somehow knew what to do about it, but Wes' hand tightened on his cock painfully, squeezing so hard that there almost wasn't any movement at all. At the same time, Wesley shoved himself in again, deeper than before, and then froze. Connor could feel Wesley's cock pulsing inside of him, bringing what had been pleasure back to the edge of pain again, and then Wesley's grip on his cock loosened. Connor shoved back onto Wesley's dick even harder, the head of his own cock sliding into Wesley's palm, slick and hot. He came with a hoarse shout, drawn out of him just like the orgasm. It took him as much by surprise as the first one had, and his arms gave out, collapsing both of them down onto the bed in a twisted pile. Wesley rolled to one side, his hand rubbing Connor's back as he gradually remembered how to breathe again. Gentle fingers ran up and around his shoulder, then down to his lower back, tracing the curve of his ass. "Are you all right?" Wesley asked finally. Connor turned his head to look at him. "Yeah. You were right." "About what?" Wesley looked amused. "That it would feel good." Connor was a little bit embarrassed now that he thought about what they'd actually done, but it *had* felt good. Great. He rolled away from Wesley, onto his side so they were facing each other, and ran his own hand down over Wesley's hip. He could see that Wesley's cock was softening now, getting smaller, but curiosity made him reach down and touch it. He fondled it, rolled Wesley's balls between his fingers, and grinned as it gave a twitch and then relaxed again. "I'm considerably older than you," Wesley pointed out unnecessarily. "I need a bit more recovery time than that." "That's okay," Connor said, leaning forward to kiss Wesley, his hand still exploring gently. He thought about the fire raining from the sky, and how they might fall asleep and never wake up, if this was really the end of the world. He wondered if he was to blame for what was happening. He decided that maybe he couldn't afford to care. "I can wait," he said, and pulled Wesley closer. End           Fan Fiction Index   Feedback to WesleysGirl