Watching
Angel/Wesley
FRT
Summary: Angel watches Wesley.
Spoilers: None.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no infringement intended, no profit being made, just for fun.
Distribution: Want, take, have; just let me know.
Author’s Notes: for theferretgirl who wanted the boys with the prompts of quilt, tea and dinner.
Angel sat quietly on the checkered quilt watching every move Wesley made. The moon was full and the park was quiet. A blessing tonight rather than something to be worried about. They’d recently saved the world, again. This was a celebration, a break from the hustle and bustle of their everyday lives. A moonlight picnic in the park.
Wesley wanted everything just so and Angel indulged him, content to sit back and relax. It was mostly repackaged Thai food, about the only thing that broke through to Angel’s dormant taste buds. But there was desert for later, with cream that would likely end up on skin instead of pie. It was seldom that they had the luxury of time alone and Angel was going to savor every moment of it.
“Sugar?”
“Huh?”
“I asked if you wanted sugar in your tea, Angel. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine, Wes. Just…daydreaming.”
“Okay.”
Wesley set out the tea set; one Angel knew had been passed down from Wesley’s grandmother. Old but sturdy and yet beautiful in its own way. There was a precise way to set everything out and Angel watched as Wesley fussed. The sugar bowl just so, the creamer caddy-corner to it. The tea pot directly in the center with the strainer to the side. No bags for this Englishman, leaves only.
Wesley opened the thermos of hot water they’d brought along and set the tea to steeping. Angel took in every twist of his wrists, the skin beneath shirt sleeves flashing white. He imagined them tied up in ribbon or cloth, just tight enough so as to keep Wesley restrained but not so tight as to cause bruising. Angelus was the one who enjoyed causing pain; Angel only wanted pleasure for his lover.
“Wes.”
“Yes, Angel?”
“Come here.”
Wesley made sure the tea tray was secure, the food in place and he scooted over the where Angel was reclining. Angel pulled him down, bringing their lips together for a kiss.
“Angel, the food…”
“Can wait, Wes. I need to work up an appetite.”
“But the tea, it will get cold.”
“Don’t care. Not much of a tea drinker any way. I prefer a
different taste of
Angel bent to taste Wesley’s mouth, the picnic forgotten.