You Taught Me
by Princess Twilite

He didn't love Angel. He didn't even really like him that much anymore. And he certainly didn't admire the bastard, not after all that had happened, after having to stare at the back of the vampire, who walked away so often.

No, Wesley didn't love Angel at all. But he wanted him. Always had, with an intense sort of hero worship that had vanished and left the lust behind. No matter what, Wes had felt the burn of desire streak through him every time Angel had gotten close enough to smell. Felt it in his fingertips. The worst part, the part that made him hate Angel the most, was that the vampire had always known. Every time, even though he never mentioned it.

And Angelus used it against him.

Wesley walked down the stairs slowly, boots landing heavily on each step.

Clunk. Clunk. Clunk.

At the bottom of the stairs, he wasn't surprised to find Angelus walking slowly around the edge of his cell, trailing his fingers along the bars. His eyes glinted through the darkness, cutting like a knife through butter.

"Look who decided to pay me a visit," Angelus murmured, wearing a face of sardonic victory. "Couldn't stay away?"

Upstairs, a clock ticked loudly. Ice clinked in Lorne's glass of liquor.

"Never could," Wesley admitted without bitterness, taking his time on the final stairs, descending like it really didn't matter. His fingers were throbbing again.

Angelus eyed him suspiciously, gripping a single bar with those long, white fingers. Licked his lips. Wesley followed the motion with his gaze, feeling the swipe of it on the inside of his stomach, desire flapping open and into the air, getting caught in the nostrils of the vampire.

"Ahhh." Angelus mouth tilted. Grinned like only something alive for hundreds of years could. "Hungry, Wes? Looking for a midnight snack and find yourself stumbling into my..." The vampire glanced around him ironically. "Humble abode?"

Wesley surveyed the musty quarters, letting out a quiet chuckle. "We only wish to make you comfortable," he said. Smiled. "We wouldn't want to make you ill at ease, now would we? A vampire must be in his own environment. Or so you've always told me."

Angelus raised an eyebrow. "Me?"

"The other version of yourself, at least. However, I've never really bought into the two separate entities rubbish. Angel is Angelus. You are Angel. You're just without a conscience."

The vampire pressed his forehead against the bars. His face shifted into that of the demon, no longer so angelic. "We both like pretty boys."

"I'm not a boy." Wesley eyes shuttered, closing down to something dark and not quite THERE. Desire masked his face like an absent creature, flitting about the room, but never staying still. "And you can't have me."

Angelus shifted his face back to human form, wearing the mask like some seductive sauce. He sniffed the air deliberately. Loudly. The smile that stretched his mouth was reply enough, but of course, he was always the type to put in the last word.

"From the smell of things, Wes, either you're having a party in your pants - or I could have you easily enough." He tapped a finger on the bar. "With a snap of my fingers. If I said I wanted to suck your cock, I'm sure you'd be unzipping your pants without a second thought. If I said I wanted to fuck you with mine... oh, I doubt you'd fight me."

Wesley arched an eyebrow, staring at Angelus condescendingly. "Just as arrogant as your other half, it seems." Shrugged, raising the crossbow he held in his hands and aiming it at the vampire. "I could kill you right now. Just a little flexing of my forefinger, and you'd be ashes."

The vampire's eyes flared. Desire, red hot, corded the muscles of his neck.

"You wanna play, Wes?"

Wesley shook his head, stroking his finger along the weapon, aware of Angelus' gaze following his movements. "You're turned on by it," he whispered. "The idea that I could take you over. Make you nothing. It gets you off."

Angelus' eyes snapped up from the weapon, landed on Wesley's dark features, half-lit by the light flickering from a lone candle. "I wouldn't fuck you, Wes. Not a single thrust of my dick up your ass. If I wanted you, I would have taken you. I could have. Everyday since I've known you. Smelling the sex on you. Pretending I didn't know about you. What you liked. I just didn't. Want. You."

Wesley chuckled, tossing the weapon onto the table at his side. It made a heavy, metal sound when it landed. "Liar. You're a whore, Angelus. It's all in the leather pants."

Angelus shrugged, a casual shift of bone and muscle. "I smell it on you now. You're hard as a rock. If you're not here to ask me to fuck you, get a piece while the uh, boss, is away, then why ARE you here?"

Wesley tilted his head to the side, silent for a long moment. And then he went over to the camera and turned it off. Upstairs, Fred was fast asleep in front of the monitor, completely unaware that the man who kinda-sorta-loved her was down in the basement, speaking with the devil.

"I'm here," Wesley said in an even voice, turning from the camera, "For some good old-fashioned revenge."

One day, when Angel regained his soul, he would look back and remember this moment. If it was Angelus Wesley now tortured, it would be soon be Angel regretting every time he had closed up just when a line had been crossed, every time he had uttered a nasty word, every single time he had made Wesley hurt inside. The thought made Wesley smile, just a bit, lips powdered with lust at the edges.

Angelus only looked amused, the glint still in his eyes as Wesley took a few steps closer, nearly close enough to touch. Without the weapon in his hands, Wesley felt off balance, but he forced himself to remain focused on his objective. He was only a man, but he was confident that if the need should arise, he could defend himself without the use of a crossbow.

He had been training. For so long and so hard.

"Revenge, Wesley?" The vampire licked his bottom lip. "I almost like the sound of that. Did I bring the whips and chains, or have I taught you nothing?"

"You taught me something," Wesley stated dryly, reaching up and unbuttoning the first button on his shirt. Angelus' eyes flickered down, a muscle in his cheek twitching.

"Pain," Wesley said. "You taught me pain."

Another button. "You taught me about lust."

Two more. Angelus' fingers clenched around the bars. He didn't speak.

"You taught me how I could be fucked by your eyes alone."

A feeling of glorious satisfaction squeezed Wesley's stomach at holding the vampire's attention, seeing the rapt expression on his face. Like he'd been hungry, in denial, sweating himself to sleep at night over dreams of fucking Wesley's mouth.

Wesley's cock throbbed briefly in his jeans, constricted in the tight space. He unbuttoned another button, the last, and then gripped the tail of the shirt, pulling it from his pants, spreading the halves apart.

"I can smell it," Angelus repeated. His eyes were on Wesley's stomach, like he could see the ball of lust weighing there, coiling as if it was a spring. "All over you. Come inside, I just might let myself fuck you."

"You can't have me," Wesley said once again; this time, with an edge. An honest bite that had Angelus glaring at him, lips peeling back of his teeth as his other hand came up, gripping another bar.

"I've always been able to have you. You're a cock-slut. Oh, you like the pussy just fine... but you've got a special taste for the dicks... don'cha? A craving. You've been wondering how mine would taste for a long, long time." Angelus paused, glancing down at Wesley's hand, which was still holding the halves of the shirt apart. "Now is your chance. What's it gonna be?"

Wesley paused, as if he was considering. And then he shook his head. "No thanks."

Somewhere in the mansion, Gunn had hung up a punching bag. His fist hit it once. Twice. Pounding on it like it was flesh. The seams were showing.

"Fuck, Wesley," he was growling. "Fuck him."

In the basement, Wesley unsnapped his jeans. The sound was like the cracking of Angelus' jaw as he stared intently at the revealed flesh, the V of Wesley's jeans as he unzipped them; the hint of dark, coarse hair.

"Fuck," Angelus echoed. A grunt. His palms were dry, flesh squeaking sweetly against the metal that held him at bay.

Wesley narrowed his eyes, paying careful attention to the look on his face. Revenge made his heart twitch, like a stone dropping, flooding his chest with the heady sensation of power. Finally, control. Finally, the top.


Wesley let his jeans drop to his feet. His belt buckle clinked sharply against the cement floor. The hollowness of sound, of desire, was an edible thing. Sweat beaded his upper lip as he shuffled backwards, somewhat ungracefully, but Angelus was too struck to notice. The cold, metal chair touched the back of his knees, stopping his movements abruptly.

Lorne, in his bedroom, pressed the cold glass to his forehead. Feeling something.

Bringing an animal to his knees. So much fun.

Angelus eyes were a glittering yellow, murky and thick with a darkness that edged out all sin for something deeper.

Wesley sat down, trying not to flinch as the chilly surface touched his ass, trying not to thrust up into the air with the erection Angelus was eyeing like someone had hit him upside the head with a battle ax.

Power. Control. They both stirred his gut, twisting.

"You taught me distrust," Wesley murmured, reaching down to wrap his fingers around his cock, giving it a squeeze and watching Angelus' finger mimic the action on the bars. "You taught me to hate." A single, encompassing stroke that trapped his breath in his throat. Wesley bit back a groan at the thick lust on Angelus' face. Felt it tingle in his balls. "You taught me everything I know about denial."

"I'm not so easy to conquer," Angelus warned, abruptly angry. Beyond that, somewhere that anger couldn't touch. He backed away from the bars, like a burned beast. "You don't want to play with me. When I want something... there's no saying no to me."

"Warning me?" Wesley grinned harshly, showing all his teeth as he pressed his thumb to the head of his cock. Thighs flexing, he thrust up into his own fist. Twisting his hips, feeling the burn of dry skin, the jerk of pleasure. "Well here's a warning for you. Come after me and you're dead. Simple as that." Another smile, another thrust. God. "Just think. You could have had this." Stilled his thrusting, holding it red and engorged, like an offering to the vampire shrouded in the shadows of his cage. "But now... you'll never get beyond the sight of it."

A whisper, skin over flesh. Angelus was growling, quietly, in the back of his throat.

"This is all mine..." Wesley grimaced, a flash of ecstasy across his jaw. Tightening his hold, he jerked his cock hard. "And Lilah's. Fred's, if she likes. But not you. Never you."

Fred, still unaware, shifted innocently in her sleep. Rubbed her thighs together.

Wesley shifted himself, skin becoming damp as his fist worked over his erection. Revenge and sex mixed together tasted like sweet berries on the back of his tongue, something he could bite into and let drip over his lips. Something like he had dreamed Angel's mouth would taste like, if he ever got close enough for a kiss. They would never know. Neither of them. And it was a bitter truth, the way things had become so twisted between them. Like they were brothers, or lovers, or destined to kill each other with the rough side of a blade.

Angelus was burning with it. The ache that had caused Wesley so many sleepless nights, so many mornings telling himself that it didn't exist, that it was all in his head, that it would never be okay to lust after someone like Angel.

It had nearly been love. Nearly, but not quite.

"I'm going to slice you open," Angelus growled. "Gonna fuck you, kill you, suck you dry."

The breath left Wesley's lungs. His hips arched. Pleasure thrummed low in his gut, and Angelus was looking, always looking. The vampire came forward again, freeing himself from the shadows like he just couldn't hold himself back anymore.

"Gonna make you pay," Angelus hissed. "It's gonna hurt."

But Wesley was blind to it now, only seeing the dark haze of lust blistering Angelus' mouth, making it raw as he spat his threats to deaf ears.

Gunn kicked the punching bag. Hard.

The look, THAT look, the one the Wes had been waiting to see.

Wesley jerked his cock one more time and came. Hard.

Angelus howled, like he'd been bitten, like someone had ripped him in two and slammed his fist against the bars, shaking them, spitting out obscenities as Wesley climaxed into his own hand. Pleasure was a smell and it could kill.

"You taught me about destruction, Angel," Wesley whispered, slowly coming back to himself. He wiped his palm on the inside of his shirt, where no one would see the cum and question him. Angelus was still growling, furious, pants bulging out with his own erection. Wesley rolled his head on his shoulder, sighing happily, sated, before reaching down and tugging his pants up over his pelvis, lifting his ass off the chair and hooking his fingers into the loops to situate himself.

Revenge tasted...

The clock clanged. One a.m.


"One day, Wesley," Angelus was muttering, hands reaching out through the bars like he could touch, just touch. "You'll know all about pain. You'll regret this. Teasing me is like telling the devil he can't have your soul."

Wesley zipped and snapped his pants, leaving his shirt unbuttoned as he stood. His breath was still slightly sporadic, but he was already recovering. Time to leave, twist the knife, make Angelus hurt like Angel had hurt him.

Angelus was Angel after all, and at the end of the day, Angel would feel the pain just as keenly.

"There's still time," Angelus whispered. "Think about how good I could fuck you. Think about how I could make it hurt just so."

Wesley shrugged carelessly, turning his shoulder on the vampire and grabbing the crossbow from the table. He flicked the camera back on as he passed.

"Don't DO this, Wes," Angelus warned. "You will to regret it."

Wesley was already walking away, a bit of bounce to his step as he strode up the stairs confidently. On top. In control. Who had the power now? The look on Angelus' face had been worth the risk. The revenge, oh so sweet, was delicious and sat inside Wesley's stomach like warm butter. He could hear Angelus calling out behind him, demanding some sort of satisfaction, reminding Wesley of all those times Angel had just walked away.

Like he was now. Without looking back. Felt so good.

Wesley closed the door on Angelus and his rage. Smiled, just a razor sharp spread of his lips, teeth barely showing. He passed by Fred, with her feet propped up on the chair opposite of her, snoring prettily. She would never know how deep his darkness really ran, and Thank God for that. Gently, he touched the side of her face and sat beside her, glancing at the monitor.

Angelus had gone still, looking directly at the camera, into him, like he could see, like he was the only one that would ever really know Wesley at all.

The ache began to throb all over again. Fingers began to tremble for more. Revenge would never be enough. Nothing would. He wasn't in love with Angel, but he wanted him like he had never, ever wanted anything before.

"You taught me pain."


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