Title: Barely Breathing
Authors: Elizabeth Wilde (wilde at biteyourtongue dot net) & Feral Tendencies
Summary: Connor is looking for a way to get back at his father and finds something else entirely.
Distribution: Ask and you might receive.
Disclaimer: We don't own them. I mean, honestly, we'd be molesting them ourselves if we did!
Notes: Originally written as part of an RPG If action seems to be missing, it is. All storylines not directly involving Wesley/Connor have been removed from this selection. To read it all, check out groups dot yahoo dot com slash group slash angel_in_la
Apparently, Wesley wasn't the most paranoid person in the world; Connor didn't even have to bother to try and unlatch the lock on the window to the man's apartment. Pulling the pane up, he slipped inside with barely a sound and quietly stalked up behind the chair Wesley was sitting in. "Awfully dark in here; you trying to sleep, or just cultivating some of my father's habits?"
Wesley didn't even start at the intrusion. He'd heard the window open, knew who it was. Besides, he already had a knife in his hand. No reason to worry too much. The man smiled grimly and shook his head. He grabbed the pad and pen from the table beside him. ~Neither. I had a bit of company but apparently I was too depressing for a former inmate. To what do I owe the honor of your visit, Connor?~
Connor moved to stand beside Wesley and read the far-too-neat handwriting, then frowned. "How do you know who I am?" he demanded, eyes narrowed as he placed a hand on the arms of Wesley's chair and leaned forward. "You haven't seen me since I was a baby..."
Wesley smiled faintly, set the knife down, and lifted his third shot of Jack Daniels from the table before throwing it back. ~You're beautiful like your mother,~ he scrawled afterward, adding, ~So why did Holtz send you here?~
Conner arched an eyebrow as he read the first sentence, wondering what exactly had inspired *that* until he noticed that the liquor bottle on the table wasn't exactly what you could call full. /Good looks isn't exactly what you'd call an identifying attribute.../ The second sentence served to draw him away from further prodding, though, and he frowned. "He didn't send me here. He just told me where you were... and suggested that I might use you to get to Angel," the last was said with a wicked smile, and Conner shoved the knife off the table, leaving it laying on the floor and out of easy reach.
~Probably can. Why do you want him?~ Wesley didn't seem overly concerned about getting the knife at hand again. Even his sluggish thoughts had processed the fact that Connor likely possessed more than enough ability when it came to fighting to kill him if that's what he chose. /It isn't as if it would matter terribly to anyone,/ the man thought bitterly.
Conner narrowed his eyes at the piece of paper, then looked back up at Wesley. "My father owes him one. I thought I might help him dispose of Angel. But I figured I could start with his friends. Y'know, break him. Then dust him."
If the healing line across his neck hadn't prevented it, Wesley would have laughed. ~If you want to start with his friends, you'll need to start elsewhere. He tried to kill me in the hospital, and I've no doubt he would finish the job if given the chance. I have no friends.~
Connor frowned at that, looking annoyed. "I guess he's not as forgiving as we'd thought," he muttered, standing, raking a hand through his hair and sighing in frustration. Putting his hands on his hips, he looked off to the side, a pout forming on his face as he thought about his next move. /If this sad-sack's useless to me, it could make things tougher./ Certainly, the rest of Angel's 'followers' would be a bit more difficult to get to, considering how much time they all spent at the hotel.
~Is it really worth so much to you to go after them?~ Wesley didn't seem particularly concerned at the idea, merely curious. ~Want a drink while you're thinking.~ He poured a second glass and held it out to the young man who, he noted, looked rather fetching when pouting.
Connor looked at the tablet, read quickly, then glanced at the proffered drink. He knew better than to be so stupid as to worry about it being tainted. Obviously, it wasn't harming Wesley in any way... except making him act a little... weird. Which was to be expected with alcohol. Smirking, he took the drink. "Awfully hospitable to someone that came here to tie you up and inflict a world of hurt," he said quietly, then tossed back the whiskey, wincing a little as it burned its way to his stomach.
~Perhaps, but you haven't. Besides, you might be surprised how well I understand you. I gave up a great deal to save your life.~ Wesley stood and walked over to turn on a light. He hadn't gotten a decent look at his companion. Yes... yes, with the light shining on him, he looked a bit more like his father. It wasn't physical so much as something in the way he stood and the vigilance in his eyes.
Connor winced at the sudden flood of light, closing his eyes and grimacing. "Jesus. Warning would be good next time," he grumbled, allowing his eyes to open a slit and gradually opening them wider as they adjusted. /Wait a minute. "Next time"? There isn't gonna be a next time, no matter what happens.../ he thought. Then he decided it had been just some sort of weird mental... slip thingy or something, and smirked at Wesley. "And I don't know how glad you're gonna be you saved my hide..."
~Why shouldn't I be? It only ruined my life~ Wesley seemed vaguely amused now, and smiled as he held out the paper and leaned back against the wall to study Connor.
Connor took the paper, wondering at the vague amusement on Wesley's face, finding it no less odd when he read the paper. Without verbal inflection, it was difficult to tell whether it was sarcasm or not. Looking up, he squirmed a little under Wesley's gaze, a little disconcerted by the scrutiny. "Why do you look at me like that?" he asked.
~Makes you uncomfortable.~ Wesley's gaze flicked up to the young man, and he wished for the millionth time that night that he could just *say* what he wanted to... even if what he wantedto say was likely the product of too much time alone and too much alcohol during that time. ~Hasn't anyone ever leered at you before?~
Conner looked vaguely shocked as he read the last sentence and realized the implications. "You... find me attractive?" he asked, though he sounded more curious than disgusted. There wasn't really even that much mockery in his tone, though a hint did exist.
Wesley nodded slightly. Writing was starting to become a chore, and he didn't feel like scratching his thoughts out on paper anymore if it could be avoided. Instead he stepped a little closer to the young man and reveled in the feeling of the alcohol singing through his veins. There was no need to behave properly, to try to do the right thing, not now. Heaven knew it hadn't helped so far. He tilted his head at Connor and smiled slightly before holding out a hand.
Intrigued if not overly certain of just what he was doing, Connor took the proffered hand. Standing, he held Wesley's eyes, his own gaze impassive despite the confusion inside him. /Why am I doing this? *What* am I doing...?/ he wondered.
No, it definitely wasn't a good idea. Sick, probably. Definitely twisted. Wrong. That sounded pretty good to Wesley, and he let his free hand raise to Connor's soft hair. /Do they have conditioner in hell dimensions?/ He didn't muse any longer on the thought but instead used his grip on Connor's hand to draw him close, hesitating to give the young man time to withdraw.
Connor didn't withdraw, however, to intrigued to pull away. Instead, he leaned a little closer, eyes locked with Wesley's and full of curiosity. /I wonder why.../ The thought faded, though, as Connor felt his smooth cheek brush against the stubble on Wesley's face. Surprisingly, the sensation wasn't all that unpleasant, and Connor nuzzled against the skin slightly.
It took only a shift of Wesley's head to bring their lips together, and he kissed Connor hungrily. There was nothing shy or hesitant about the kiss, nothing even remotely categorizable as something Wesley might do. The embrace barely began before the man's tongue demanded entrance. One hand remained tangled in Connor's hair while the other shifted to the small of his back as if preventing escape.
Mind spinning almost too much to prevent any kind of rational thought, or even any kind of mental protest, Connor parted his lips, giving in to the rough kiss. Feeling the hand pressing against the small of his back inspired a brief flash of fear before Connor managed to convince himself that he could stop this whole thing anytime he wanted to. Instead of trying to pull away, he pressed his body against Wesley's, sliding his tongue along the other man's with a soft groan.
Though he hadn't expected the warm welcome, Wesley hardly minded. He used the acquiescence and took the opportunity to reverse their positions so that he could shift Connor closer to the wall. A few more steps and he held the young man against it so that their bodies pressed together in a way that left Wesley tingling in all the right places.
Connor tensed as he felt his back pressed to the wall, feeling suddenly trapped. His eyes flew open and he pulled out of the kiss. His breath and heartrate were already moving a bit faster than normal, but he couldn't help the bit of worry inspired by his cornered status. "Wesley," he whispered, his tone warning, though he made no actual attempt to get away.
The man drew back just enough to meet Connor's gaze and raise his eyebrows in silent query. He didn't give the young man opportunity to escape the embrace, and waiting patiently was the last thing on his mind.
"I..." Connor trailed off and shook his head. Confessing that he'd never done anything with a man suddenly seemed like a stupid idea, now that he actually had the opportunity. He hadn't even really expected Wesley to back off long enough to give him a chance to say anything. "Nevermind..."
As if understanding the silent misgivings, Wesley's next kiss was gentle as if something remained of the quiet intellectual despite the liquor and pain. His hands caressed now, exploring gently the young man's curves and form through his clothes.
Connor relaxed then; at least, he relaxed as much as he was willing. He still viewed Wesley as an enemy in the back of his mind. But at the forefront, he was the focus of slowly growing desire at the moment, and Connor wasn't in the mood to put off getting what he wanted. The soft, gentle hands on his body convinced
Connor to relax further, returning the kiss with growing passion.
Needing but unwilling to take without giving, Wesley drew away to remove Connor's shirt, rewarded moments later with the breathtaking view of the young man's chest. Apparently he took after his father in the way of physical activity, and every fight showed in the chiseled muscle covering Connor's slender form. Though words were out of the question, he mouthed, "Beautiful," before letting his hands settle into teasing the nipples interrupting the smooth line of Connor's pale chest.
Connor kept his back pressed to the wall, still a little too disconcerted to make any sort of aggressive move. He watched in quiet fascination and fear as Wesley's hands moved to his chest. His eyes followed the same path as the other man's hands until they moved over his nipples. "Aa... m..." The sounds were quiet, from the back of his throat as his back arched slightly, his hands moving instinctively to grip the backs of Wesley's arms, just above the elbows.
Smiling at the affect he'd had, Wesley took one of Connor's wrists in hand and then moved the boy's hand to the buttons of his own shirt. It wasn't a subtle hint, but they'd moved beyond subtle awhile ago. That done, he returned his attention to Connor's body and to unfastening the boy's secondhand jeans.
Connor started unfastening Wesley's shirt, hesitating a moment and taking in a sharp breath when he felt the other man's hands on his jeans. He started to say something, but he wasn't even sure what he wanted to say; the words died on his lips as nothing more than an odd sort of grunt. Slowly, he started unfastening Wesley's shirt again, hands eventually sliding over the smooth, slender chest with slow curiosity.
Wesley's lips parted and then he frowned in sudden frustration. He drew reluctantly away from the young man and grabbed the pad once again. Handwriting suffering for his distraction and annoyance at even having to write, Wesley scratched down, ~You'll have to tell me what you're comfortable with. I won't force you.~
Connor looked at the tablet, then looked back at Wesley. "I'm not comfortable with any of this," he said, then shook his head before Wesley could draw any sudden conclusions. "But I want it." He set the pad aside once more and stepped forward, tugging at Wesley's shirt until he finally managed to pull it off completely.
Satisfied, Wesley nodded slightly at the young man and then reached out to tweak a pert nipple. The same hand trailed down Connor's chest and finally began to tug at the waistband of the boy's pants. Meeting no resistance, Wesley unbuttoned the jeans and then started the slow unzipping.
Conner was panting lightly by the time Wesley got that far. He didn't say anything, running his hands over the other man's shoulders as Wesley revealed his half-hard cock. Leaning forward, he nibbled at the other man's jawline.
If he'd had the ability, Wesley might have made some comment on the fact that his young would-be lover wore no underwear. As it stood, he said nothing. /At least it saves the interruption. I always did talk too damn much,/ the man thought to himself as he ran his hand up along Connor's inner thigh and finally let his fingers brush the burgeoning hard-on.
Connor let out a hitched gasp as Wesley's hand brushed against him, his hips pressing forward before he even really thought about the move. "Nnm..." he muttered, leaning forward to press his face against Wesley's neck. Turning his head a little, he brushed his lips against the bandage the other man wore as if trying to soothe the wound.
Wesley shivered slightly and opened his hand to take Connor's length into his palm fully, fingers closing around the hot, silky flesh. He sucked in a breath himself at the contact and then began to move in slow strokes. Wesley drew back to look into the younger man's eyes, silently asking for an indication of what Connor wanted.
Connor took in a sharp breath as Wesley's hand closed around his cock, and his hips thrust forward instinctively. "Yes..." When Wesley caught his eye, he smiled faintly, leaning forward to catch a quick kiss as his fingers tangled desperately in the other man's hair. "It's amazing..." he breathed, his eyes drifting shut. One hand slid down to take hold of Wesley's waistband, then fumble with the button on the man's pants. Connor made a sound of frustration when the button and zipper affair seemed to almost completely thwart his efforts.
Glad for Connor's continued eagerness, Wesley stepped back out of reach and took care of both jeans and boxers for him. Apparently unashamed at standing naked in front of a near stranger-something that, no matter their activities, made many people nervous-Wesley held a hand out and drew Connor into the bedroom. Hungry though he might be for more, the man had no intention of being entirely crude about the situation. Wesley sat down on the bed and motioned Connor to sit beside him.
Connor sat down beside Wesley, not just a little surprised by the fact that the other man had taken him into the bedroom. He had expected something far less... civilized, considering the situation. Still, he wasn't about to object, and his arms were quickly wrapped around Wesley's body as he began nibbling at one of his partner's shoulders, waiting to see what would happen next.
Smiling at Connor's gentle exploration, Wesley drew back and lay down against the comforter before holding his hands out to the young man. Thankful that words weren't really needed much since he'd left the damned pad in the other room, the Englishman ran a hand through Connor's hair. Though it felt rather like some masochistic torture, Wesley determined silently to let Connor set the pace.
Connor smiled as he settled against Wesley's body, running his hand along the man's side and then leaning forward for a heated kiss. Sliding his hand lower, he unfastened the man's fly and slipped his hand into Wesley's boxers, cupping his groin gently. As he moved, his lips traced a line down Wesley's jaw and down to his neck. Encountering the bandage once again, Connor made a sound of frustration, wishing he could work the no-doubt sensitive skin it covered.
Wesley tangled his fingers in the young man's hair and pulled his head up to make eye contact. A faint smile lingered on his lips before his hand trailed down to grip Connor's hard cock. A few strokes and then he moved the hand to Connor's, leading it to the same place on his own body. It was the closest thing to instruction Wesley could manage at the moment, and he just hoped the boy took the not-so-subtle hint.
Connor made a sound of assent in the back of his throat and gripped the man's hard length. Anything to get more of the stimulation Wesley had provided just a few moments before. Leaning forward to nibble at the other man's ear, he started pumping the heated flesh, enjoying the feel of the silky hardness in his hand far more than he would have expected.
Wesley thrust upward into the young man's hand gratefully. He needed release and didn't feel like waiting a hell of a lot longer. Slow could come later. /He'll leave. There is no "later"./ Shushing the voice, Wesley gripped the young man's hair and shoved his head lower. The intended destination seemed obvious, but he didn't loose his grip until Connor's face hovered precisely where he wanted it-directly above his aching cock.
Connor made a sound of surprise as he was grabbed and shoved downward. He hesitated a moment as he was confronted with Wesley's hard length, then opened his mouth and slowly engulfed the heated flesh. Finding the taste not all that unpleasant, he slid his tongue along the underside, trying to provide pleasant stimulation, thought it was obvious he wasn't real sure of what he was doing.
Shuddering with pleasure at the contact and the image despite Connor's lack of skill, Wesley half-smiled and then thrust slowly upward. He didn't want to scare the young man or choke him, but Connor did seem to need a bit of urging, some direction, and the wound in his neck forced nonverbal communication.
The thrust served to remind Connor that movement would be a nice addition to his treatment, and he tried bobbing his head a little. Finding the activity enjoyable, he began thrusting more deeply, eventually pushing Wesley's cock against the back of his throat. The action served to trigger his gag reflex a little, but it was easily repressed, and he took Wesley's cock even more deeply into his throat, swallowing reflexively.
Wesley fought the urge to throw his head back since he knew realistically that it would likely tear stitches that were keeping the wound on his neck from reopening. Instead he pressed himself back against the bed as if trying to escape the pleasure of Connor's ministrations and breathed heavily. A few strokes through Connor's hair would, he hoped, provide adequate encouragement since he was fairly sure talking would be impossible even without his injury.
"Rrmm..." Connor purred when he felt the hand in his hair. His fingers trailed lightly over Wesley's thighs as he continued to work, bobbing a bit more rhythmically as he began to grow accustomed to the act.
Not desiring to hold back or to wait, not given the situation, Wesley relaxed and let his climax come, pushing up into Connor's mouth as small tremors wracked his body. The only sound he made was a deep breath and a mostly-choked moan that hurt like hell. He didn't care, though, ignored it, and fell boneless back against the bed afterwards. It sat uneasily to leave Connor unsatisfied, though, and Wesley stroked a hand through his lover's hair and tried to draw him back up again.
Connor swallowed the cum quickly, surprised to find it not all that unpleasant. Feeling the slight tugs at his hair, the young man looked up and offered Wesley a faint smile, then crawled slowly up the other man's body. "What?" he asked, leaning down to press a brief kiss to the other man's lips before pulling back to smile at him.
Surprised by Connor's enthusiasm, Wesley couldn't help but smile as well. His eyes sparkled in the dim light while his hand drifted down to grip the young man's hard cock, stroking slowly up and then down. He searched Connor's face, hoping it might be enough, fairly certain his neck wouldn't be up to attempting to give head.
Connor's hips jerked forward a little as Wesley's hand closed around his cock, and he sighed tensely. The touch sent some very pleasant sensations through him, and he let his eyes drift almost completely shut. A moment later, he started thrusting along with the slow strokes, his head falling forward to rest heavily on Wesley's shoulder as he started to pant.
With the hand not currently wrapped around Connor's hot dick, Wesley stroked the young man's back in lieu of whispering in his ear. He continued for awhile at a slow, steady pace before suddenly upping the tempo. The breathy pants were enough to drive him insane, and he wanted to hear what sort of sounds Connor made when he finally came.
Conner didn't resist, letting himself be drawn to the other man's body. He'd practically forgotten his original reason for being there, and even as the reason reinstated itself in his brain, he shrugged it off. /Tomorrow. Maybe... Or not... Who cares?/ he thought, nuzzling his face against Wesley's neck.