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Happy Birthdayby WesleysGirlRating: NC-17 Angel/Wesley For Violet's birthday. "Happy Birthday." In the hopes that he was having a really bad dream, Angel burrowed deeper under the covers and kept his eyes firmly closed. "Angel, I know you're awake." He sighed and sat up. Wes was standing next to the bed with a kind of lopsided cake on a plate in his hands and a small grin on his face. "Happy Birthday," Wes said again. "It's not my birthday," Angel grumbled. "You don't know that for certain," Wesley said, like he'd planned for this argument in advance. "It could be your birthday." Angel sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. "But it's not." "Well I've decided that it is, and that we need to celebrate it properly." Wes sat down on the edge of the bed, balancing the cake carefully on one palm, and took out a lighter. He lit the little cartoon character candle that was in the center of the cake. "Bugs Bunny?" Angel asked in disbelief. Wes frowned. "It was all they had at the corner shop." He set the lighter down and looked at Angel expectantly. "They say it's the thought that counts." "Yeah, well, the thought in this case is 'You shouldn't have bothered.'" The little flame flickered and danced, but it was because Wesley's breath was moving the air currents, not because Angel's ever would again. "Make a wish," Wes said, "and blow out the candle." "I wish this was all a bad dream," Angel said darkly, and leaned forward to blow. Quicker than Angel would have given him credit for, Wes put a hand in front of the flame, blocking him. "It doesn't count if you make the wish out loud," he pointed out. "Try again." Angel sighed again, trying to think of something that would satisfy Wesley, then realized that it didn't matter. "Okay," he lied, and Wes moved his hand so that he could blow out the candle. "Happy now?" "Yes," Wesley said, but Angel thought he was lying too, if the look on his face had anything to say about it. He produced a knife from somewhere -- the foot of the bed, Angel hoped -- and offered it. "I don't even like cake," Angel said, but he took the knife anyway. "You'll like this one," Wes said, putting his other hand under the plate too and holding the cake a little bit closer to Angel. When he cut into it, he understood why Wes had bothered -- inside the layers of cake was something that looked, and smelled, like blood. And sugar. It was... blood icing. "...Interesting," Angel said, at a loss for words. Wes reached his finger toward the knife, so Angel held it still and let Wes swipe a finger full of icing off the flat of the blade. "Try it," Wes said. Angel opened his mouth to let Wes' finger slip inside, then closed it around warm skin and blood-flavored icing, his tongue swirling around to get every bit of it. It tasted strange -- sweet, but salty -- and settled into him like an ache. Wes started to pull his finger back, but Angel grabbed onto his wrist quickly, sucking hard on Wes' fingertip until the other man groaned softly. "You might want to stop that," Wesley said, his eyes fluttering closed for a second. "Nah. Don't think I do." Angel held Wes' wrist more gently, but licked and sucked on his finger again. "I'm going to drop your cake," Wes warned him. Angel let him go, figuring that it wouldn't be pretty if the cake landed upside down on the bed -- not for the covers or Wes' mood. "Put it down somewhere safe," he said. "But don't you want to have some? I -- " "Maybe later," Angel said, in the low voice he used to get through to Wes when he was focusing on the wrong thing. "Right now there's something else I want. You." Wes nodded, his eyes dark but open, like Angel could see right into him. Right into his soul. The cake was put down somewhere -- Angel didn't care where -- and Wes reached for him, warm hands on his bare upper arms before their mouths met in a careful but not totally controlled kiss. It was always rough and kind of desperate between them, probably because they were still feeling things out, still figuring out how to do this without everyone finding out and them having to explain. Not that Angel didn't want Cordy and Gunn to find out -- to be honest, he didn't care. But Wes seemed kind of sensitive about the whole thing, so they were keeping it quiet. Of course, that meant they couldn't have sex when anyone else was in the hotel, because when they did that neither of them was quiet. In no time at all Wes was naked too, straddling Angel, who was flat on his back with Wes' tongue in his mouth. His cock was an insistent ache sliding and grinding against Wes'. "How do you want me?" Wes gasped. It wasn't a question that usually got asked, and he clarified, "It is your birthday." Angel didn't want to move. "Like this," he said. Wes lifted up onto his knees, one hand guiding Angel's cock to the right spot, but before Angel could protest that they needed something he felt the slick wetness and realized that Wes had gotten himself ready in advance. Then Wes was sinking down onto his cock, and Angel tightened his hands on Wes' hips and shoved into him, hard, and they were both moving. "Jesus, Wes..." The sound of Wes gasping got to Angel every time, the way his breath caught in his throat. The way he'd whimper when Angel managed to find just the right angle. The way he didn't seem to care that it was rough, and actually urged Angel for more, harder, faster... Wes came first, with a strangled sound and a warm wetness on Angel's stomach, shuddering and clenching down so that Angel had to close his own eyes to last a little bit longer. Only a little bit though -- five or six more thrusts, maybe, and he came, jerking up into Wes and leaving bruises on his hips with hands that gripped just a little too hard. They collapsed into a sated, sweaty mess, Wes breathing heavily, the warm air as he exhaled blowing across Angel's skin. After a few minutes, Angel said. "Today's not my birthday." Wes stirred. "It could be." "But it's not." He ran a hand down Wes' back to his ass. "Tomorrow is." Pushing himself into a sitting position, Wes looked at him sternly. "I thought you didn't know when your birthday was." Angel grinned. "I just remembered. It's tomorrow." Wes leaned down and kissed him, hard. "You're just hoping for a repeat of this little nooner, aren't you." Instead of answering, Angel tangled his fingers in Wes' hair and drew him down for a longer kiss. Maybe this birthday thing wasn't so bad after all. End.
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