”Love is the answer, but while you’re waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty good questions.”
--Woody Allen
As it happened, neither of them returned to the Hyperion that day. Instead they sat in Wesley’s living room and talked about nothing and everything until after dark. Finally, Doyle found himself yawning and smiled at Wesley. ”It’s getting late, isn’t it?”
Wesley hadn’t even noticed the hour, but now he had to agree with Doyle. ”Do you want to go to bed?”
”Not until I’ve convinced you of U2’s greatness. Just let me take a leak, will you?”
Wesley waited restlessly for Doyle to return, trying to keep his mind on music and books rather than on his houseguest. He put a nail in his mouth and almost bit his fingertip off when a thud was heard from the lavatory.
”Doyle?” he asked, and when nobody replied, he rushed up and knocked on the door, repeating Doyle’s name. From inside came sounds of deep breaths, interrupted by another thud.
”Are you okay?” The door wasn’t locked, and Wesley only hesitated for a few seconds before he opened it.
Even though Wesley had theoretically been well aware of Doyle’s demon features, it was quite another thing to actually see them. Nevertheless, Wesley didn’t find them as alarming as the fact that Doyle was pounding his fists on the mirror and in serious danger of breaking it and maybe hurting himself. When Wesley put a hand on his shoulder, Doyle spun around and yelled, ”Stay away from me, Harry!” He buried his face in his arms, protective both of himself and of the man he mistook for his wife. ”Don’t look at me,” he sobbed, shaking like a leaf.
Wesley withdrew his hand, but only for a second. Then he put both of them down, holding Doyle’s shoulders in something that was almost a hug, and speaking calmly to him. ”I’ve seen demons before, Doyle.” He let his hand run over Doyle’s face while he was talking. Although he wasn’t sure if Doyle would realize what he was doing or still think it was Harry, he knew that Doyle reacted to what was going on around him during a hallucination. Whatever interpretation Doyle made of this, he calmed noticeably, and it didn’t take very long until he drew a deep breath and shook off his demon face.
”I think I will go to bed anyway,” he said, brushing the hair away from his face.
”Alright,” Wesley said, showing the way into the bedroom. He’d rather take the couch himself than make Doyle sleep on it after this. Doyle started to pull off his clothes within seconds, and Wesley drew back towards the door. ”I’ll leave you alone now.”
”Don’t.” The one word made Wesley stop short, and Doyle looked up, jeans already off and shirt halfway open. ”Where are you going to sleep?”
”Out there,” Wesley said, indicating the living room.
”Don’t be silly. There’s room for another in this bed. I’m a small guy.”
”I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Wesley started, and Doyle walked up to him, standing slightly closer than courtesy allowed.
”Don’t you?”
And this time it was no double entendre, and no chance to escape by pretending Doyle wasn’t suggesting what he was, because hands were unbuttoning Wesley’s shirt, and he swallowed, not wanting to want this. ”Doyle, you’re still confused...”
”Wesley Wyndham Pryce,” Doyle said, removing the shirt and not even flinching at the many marks on Wesley’s body from burns, cuts, shots and Lord knows what, ”ex-Watcher, ex-demon hunter, current warrior for all things good in Angel Investigations, I am not confused. Are you?”
Wesley shook his head silently and dropped his pants before lying down on the bed. There was no point in thinking of reservations at this stage. He expected Doyle to follow, but the Irishman remained by the bed, tilting his head. ”I didn’t think so. Condoms?”
”What?” Wesley asked, not because he hadn’t heard, but because he couldn’t believe Doyle would go from caressing his chest to asking for prophylactics in less than ten seconds.
”Condoms. Do you have any?” For the first time, a flicker of uncertainty came over Doyle. ”You’ve done this before, haven’t you?”
”Yes.” Wesley correctly interpreted the question as referring to gay sex and not sex in general, in which case he would have had to be offended. But he kept silent about just how long it had been since the last time. Condoms he kept for his occasional interaction with women, but the lubricant next to it was like a teddybear in the bookshelf -- not there to be used, but leaving an empty space if thrown out. ”They’re in the bathroom cabinet.”
The mere minute before Doyle came back with condoms and lubricant seemed like an eternity. The moment he did, Wesley pulled him into bed, forgetting his hesitation for the chance to touch that smooth skin. Doyle replied by bowing down his head and softly biting a nipple that was underlined by a scar Faith had once put there.
”It’s okay, isn’t it?” Doyle asked when Wesley drew a shaky breath at the touch.
”Mm.” The confirmative was short, since the long version was far too complex to use. Yes, it’s okay that you draw your tongue over those places that have known nothing but pain for so long. It’s okay that your bites show that there’s more than one kind of pain, and that even if it feels awfully strange having someone play lunchtime with one’s body, it’s a nice strangeness.
Doyle waited for a longer reply, but when he didn’t get it he just shrugged. The next moment he lifted his head again and gave Wesley a playful smack.
”Roll over.”
Lying down like this, Wesley couldn’t salute, but he managed an ironic ”Yes, sir!” before doing as Doyle asked. This meant he could no longer touch Doyle like he wanted to, but that didn’t matter, because those hands on his body was enough. Slowly, he allowed himself to relax and lose control. For once, he felt completely safe. With Doyle covering him like this, nothing could ever hurt him. Then Doyle entered him, and he moaned in a delight that accelerated until love, pain and loneliness disappeared and all he was aware of was their two bodies together. Shortly afterwards he felt Doyle’s hands roughen, and he knew that if he had been able to look up at this moment, he would be met by red glowing eyes, but that didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered anymore, and when the act itself was over and he lay still feeling Doyle’s mouth on his shoulders, he realized there were tears on his face. For once, he felt no need to apologize for them.
The weight on top of him shifted and disappeared, and he rolled over on his side. ”Where are you going?”
”Just cleaning up,” Doyle said, throwing the used condom in the trash before returning to bed. He lay down next to Wesley, and when they were facing each other like this, the bed didn’t seem too small at all. Doyle buried his head in Wesley’s neck and started nibbling again, and Wesley laughed.
”You really like biting, don’t you?” he said, making small circles on Doyle’s arms with his fingers.
”I’d make a wicked vampire,” Doyle replied. He yawned a little and found a comfortable position. Wesley continued his caresses and felt Doyle relax. After a few minutes, he no longer got any replies when he spoke. Letting his arms rest around the other man’s body, he felt as if he was the one to be held, just by Doyle’s breaths on his necks. And those breaths put him to sleep.
Somebody was muttering in Wesley’s ear. As soon as he had woken up, he realized that it was Doyle, who slept restlessly. Wesley smiled when a hand hit him in the face, and he caught it, kissing its fingers gently. He snuggled closer to Doyle and rolled them both over, so that he could get out of bed without waking the other man up.
It wasn’t until he entered the kitchen that the satisfied feeling from the night disappeared and was replaced with panic. What had he been thinking, to jump into bed with Doyle like that? Granted, Doyle had been the one to initiate it, but Doyle had made it perfectly clear that he didn’t care what anyone thought. Turning on the stove to make coffee, he kept thinking his options over, but it all came down to one problem: he didn’t know what Doyle wanted with him, apart from the obvious. Then the doorbell rang and he made a wry face as he went to put his dressing gown on. He wasn’t ready to deal with anyone today.
And he certainly wasn’t ready to deal with Angel. The sight of the vampire standing in the doorway almost made him shut the door. He forced out a ”hello”, and Angel gave him a strange look.
”I was worried when neither of you showed up last night.”
”Well, here I am.”
Angel’s eyes didn’t leave him. ”And Doyle?”
There was no way to lie to a person who could smell a lover on you, but Wesley wasn’t ready to tell the truth either. ”He got a job at Caritas last night.”
”Really?” Angel said, at least partially distracted, and Wesley nodded. He couldn’t meet the vampire’s gaze.
”Listen, I’ve got water boiling on the stove...”
Angel sighed. ”Will you do me a favour? Ask him to call his mother. Since you obviously get along better with him than I do.”
Not knowing what to say, Wesley nodded, and Angel left without another word. Wesley groaned as he shut the door before returning to the kitchen. This was really the last thing he needed.
Doyle was already waiting for him in the kitchen, more naked than not. ”Morning,” he said, putting an arm around Wesley’s body and attempting to kiss him. Wesley stepped back and took the pot off the stove. Although he didn’t look at Doyle, he could feel the wounded glance.
”Do you want coffee?” he asked.
”Yeah, sure.” Doyle walked up beside the stove so Wesley had no choice but to look at him. ”Listen, about last night...”
Wesley braced himself for what would come, not sure what he feared or hoped for.
”You’re my friend, so if you want us to forget all about it, I can do that. But to be honest, I would think it an awful pity.”
Wesley nodded slowly. ”Me too.”
”So what’s this all about, then?”
”I don’t want this,” Wesley said, and Doyle looked as if he had been kicked in the stomach, but he nodded.
”Okay.”
”No, that’s not what I meant. I want you. But I don’t want...” He struggled with the words. ”I haven’t been with a man since university.”
Doyle’s eyes widened. ”And I thought my sex life was bad.”
”I’ve had sex, just not with men. I like women, why should it be so hard to stick to them?”
Doyle sat down on the kitchen table. ”Probably because your body refuses to listen to that homophobic little superego of yours, and I must admit I’m grateful for that.”
”You’re not taking this seriously,” Wesley said, getting angry.
”I am. But I doubt Angel’s objections will have anything to do with the fact that we’re both men. And nobody’s sending you to Hell for this, trust me. So if you want me as much as I want you,” he moved in closer and took Wesley’s shoulder, ”I really don’t see a problem.”
”The last time I allowed myself to fall in love with a boy,” Wesley said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice although not succeeding very well, ”we were found out, and I ended up being told by my father in no uncertain terms that if I persisted in this kind of foolishness I would no longer be allowed to contact my family.” He ran his fingers through his hair. ”My sister still can’t look me in the eye, but at least I get to talk to her.”
Doyle didn’t move, just looked at Wesley, shocked. ”He said that?” he whispered, slowly letting his arms sink. ”Then I suppose it makes sense... if you don’t think it’s worth it.”
Wesley grabbed Doyle’s elbows to stop him from drawing back. ”I don’t know if it’s worth it, Doyle. I can’t bear the thought of never touching you again. So it seems I have two impossible choices.”
”But if I were to, say, take you into my mouth right here, right now,” Doyle said, moving in closer, ”nobody’s around to disown you, yeah?”
Wesley knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop at that, but the bare mentioning made him hard, and right now it would be worth anything. He kissed Doyle deeply and nodded with both of their heads, getting a muffled giggle in response. Then Doyle let go of his mouth and worked his way down.
”I’m not sure I should let you do this,” Wesley said, playing with Doyle’s hair, ”considering how fond you are of biting me.”
Laughing blue eyes looked up for a moment. ”Relax, Wes, I’ve done this before.”
Wesley kept talking to keep his head cool. ”Frequently?”
”Mphm,” Doyle replied, something that could be interpreted as affirmative. He was now by the waistline and moving down so slowly Wesley thought he would go crazy.
”So, how long would you say it has... Ow!” Wesley looked down. ”I thought you said you wouldn’t bite me.”
”Actually, I didn’t,” Doyle pointed out. ”Now, do you want a conversation or may I use my mouth for other things?” He took Wesley’s cock in his hand and rubbed it gently, waiting for a reply. When he got nothing from Wesley but a moan, he grinned and got to work. He started out gently, but soon pressed harder, and not until the final seconds did he take his lips away from his teeth to use them as well.
”You’re good,” Wesley said when he could speak again.
Doyle, who was resting at the floor, grinned a little. ”I told you I had done it before.”
”Dear God, yes.” Wesley sat down next to Doyle and leaned his head towards the wall. ”You must have had an excellent teacher.”
”Nah, just lots of experience,” Doyle said with a grimace.
Wesley looked up, thoughtful. He didn’t know how to ask the next question, but couldn’t help doing it anyway. ”What sort of experience?” Seeing Doyle’s expression, he added, ”I mean, I know there aren’t that many ways to get by on the street, and...”
”No, Wesley, I didn’t,” Doyle said, but he didn’t seem upset by the question. ”I’ve begged, stolen and gone through people’s trash, but I was never a hustler.”
Wesley, embarrassed by situation, tried to apologize: ”I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to...”
”No, it’s okay. It’s not like I never thought about it. I just didn’t like the thought of going with a guy and then maybe lose my mind in the middle of things.” He frowned, and Wesley started massaging his neck to make him relax. ”I’ve done it with strangers in public places, just never for money. If you’re thinking about getting tested...”
”I wasn’t.”
”We probably should.” Doyle looked up to meet Wesley’s eyes, and Wesley sighed.
”Not the perfect day-after conversation.”
”Day-while,” Doyle said with a smile. ”Since we did it a second time.”
”It would be a third if I returned the favour,” Wesley aid, moving in closer.
”I’d rather you didn’t,” Doyle said, standing up.
Wesley at first got confused and hurt, then something dawned at him. ”Because you’d turn?”
”Not the hottest thing in the universe to see during sex,” Doyle said, going back into the bedroom for his clothes. Wesley followed him.
”It is to me.” For a second, Wesley panicked at the words coming out of his mouth, but then he decided he didn’t regret them. Not one bit.
They looked at each other silently, and then Doyle shook off the glance and reached down for his pants. ”We’d better get back to Angel’s. I still have my clothes there, and I bet there’s work to do. How’s that coffee?”
Wesley had completely forgotten about the coffee. ”Cold, I suspect.”
”Well, it can’t be any worse than Cordelia’s.” Doyle put on his clothes and returned to where Wesley was standing, giving him a quick peck on the mouth. ”Get dressed. We’ve got work to do.”
They arrived at the Hyperion like teenagers with a new hairdo, not sure if it’s too much or if people won’t notice at all. Gunn seemed to be of the latter category, while Cordelia gave them a brilliant smile of the same Sphinx-like style she used so often lately. Although Wesley was more than pleased with the way things had developed, her immense satisfaction of being right did annoy him. As for Angel -- well, he didn’t kick them right out again, but he didn’t look all that happy either.
”We received the disc from Willow,” he said. ”You could go right now, if you want. Of course, then I won’t be able to come with you.”
”I’m not sure you *should* come with us,” Wesley said, looking critically at the vampire. ”You don’t quite have the looks of a scientist or warlock.” Then again, neither did the others, and he frowned. ”Cordelia could come, of course, in a nice pant suit, but...”
”You’re not leaving me here?” Doyle said, and Gunn looked equally offended.
”Maybe with a haircut,” Cordelia said, regarding Doyle’s hair that he still hadn’t bothered about cutting. ”Or not. I can’t even picture you doing research. Gunn could probably pass, though.”
”Mhm.” Wesley didn’t like the thought of Angel and Doyle being alone in the Hyperion. With the way things were going, they might just rip each other’s throats out. Probably not literally, but you never knew.
”Here’s a thought,” Gunn said. ”You two get started in there, and if you need help, give me a call. Okay?”
”Sounds good,” Wesley said, grateful to get off so easily.
Cordelia seemed even more relieved than he did, but not until they were well on their way did he understand why.
”So, you did have sex last night, yeah?” She was putting on makeup and gave him an irritated glance in the rear view mirror when her question forced him to steer away from a lamp post he had almost hit. ”Watch how you’re driving, will you? This isn’t an audition for ’It’.”
”That is certainly none of your business,” Wesley said, answering her first question.
”That means yes.” She grinned. ”Whohoo! Love emerges at the AI office!”
”We’re not in love!” Wesley protested. ”We just had sex.”
”But you’re living together.”
”As roommates.”
”Roommates who have sex. Yeah, why not. Freakier things have happened.”
Wesley took a deep breath. ”Why are you so pleased about all this?”
”What, aren’t you?” she asked, examining her face in the mirror. She had managed to get away the smears and now looked like a highly prosperous businesswoman.
”Yes, well, that’s different,” Wesley said and deliberately got crude. ”You didn’t have your cock sucked this morning.”
Cordelia grimaced. ”I *so* didn’t want to know that.”
”Then exactly what is it you’re interested in?”
”Well, whether or not you two plan to stick together, for one thing. If I can count Doyle as off my case.”
”I think he’s been off your case ever since he came back,” Wesley said cautiously, not sure of what Cordelia’s opinion on this was.
”I know. It’s just... I couldn’t be quite sure. What if deep down he still wanted me?” She rolled her eyes to show that she knew what a cheesy line that was. ”I mean, back then I could have loved him, no question about it, but we never got to that point, did we? A bit of flirting hardly makes me his mourning widow. Not to mention that a lot has been going on lately.”
”You don’t say,” Wesley mumbled.
”And, you know, yeah, of course I wonder why both of you are suddenly going gay when you’ve been hitting on me before. But it’s not like I caused it or anything.”
”I think we can safely assume that,” Wesley said with a smile. ”I’ve been with men since long before I met you.”
”Hm. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when Gunn finds out you’re keeping that kind of secret from him,” Cordelia said.
Wesley winced. Gunn was his best friend, and he was more than grateful that the issue of homosexuality had never come up between them. Men who had never had any sexual experience with their own sex tended to react in a less than amiable way when they found out their friends had. Fortunately, Cordelia didn’t keep up this subject.
”What if they have changed the locks?” she asked instead, as they came closer to the laboratory.
”They haven’t,” Wesley said. ”We’ve had people keep watch outside. You know that.”
”Yeah, well, they could still have done it,” Cordelia said. She sighed and drummed her foot on the floor. ”What are you going to call yourself if someone asks?”
Wesley hadn’t thought of that and answered the first thing that entered his head: ”Igor Sullivan.”
Cordelia forgot how nervous she was and started to laugh. ”Igor Sullivan? You can’t be called that!”
”Sure I can. I’ll just hope they haven’t seen The Cactus Flower.” He shrugged. ”It’s not as if we were suppose to socialize with them anyway. If all goes well, nobody will ask for our names.”
”Alright then,” she agreed. ”You’ll be Igor Sullivan. Who will I be?”
”My wife Antonia, of course.”
”If I’m your wife, I want a divorce.”
”Why?” he asked, parking outside the lab.
”Because you sleep with other men,” she stated and left the car. For a moment, Wesley was stunned, but then he laughed and followed her.
”Here goes nothing,” Cordelia said, burying her nails in Wesley’s arm. It hurt, but Wesley felt like doing the same, so he said nothing. While Cordelia tried the card, he turned the key in the other lock, feeling the click that told him the lock was undone.
”Wes? Problem. They want a password.”
”Wesley grimaced. ”Okay, any ideas?”
”Random numbers until they kick us out? Blasting the lock? Open, Sesame?”
The lock beeped, and she stared at it. ”I don’t believe this.”
”Well, it *is* a real spell,” Wesley said, hurrying to open the door.
”Is ’abracadabra’ real too? ’Or ’hocus pocus’?”
”No it isn’t. And yes, in a way,” Wesley replied, leading Cordelia into the building. There were lengthy corridors everywhere, but with oaken walls and deep red curtains that gave them a remarkably lived-in look. It didn’t look like an office, much less a laboratory. On the contrary, it was like something out of The Ghost of Canterville. ”Alright, Antonia, my dear, any ideas as to direction?”
”No, Igor, none. There are bound to be computers everywhere, can’t we just pick one?” She looked thoughtful. ”They’re going to want a password for that too, aren’t they?”
”Your friend Willow has taken care of that,” Wesley said.
”She’s not my friend! And good. Then I suggest we get started.”
They walked down the corridors and Cordelia opened a door to a room that appeared to be empty. Unlike the corridors, its furnishing was the usual for an office. They had only taken a few steps inside when a middle-aged woman showed up, looking very surprised. ”Who are you? What are you doing here?”
Wesley searched his mind for something to say, but it was Cordelia who was the first to remember a name. ”My name is Antonia Sullivan, I’m looking for June Dawkins?”
”She’s not around anymore,” the woman said, looking very surprised. ”Who sent you?”
”Hartnell,” Wesley said, remembering the name of the dealer he had met.
”Really? Well, he’s downstairs.”
”Fine, then we’ll go looking for him,” Cordelia said, dragging Wesley with her before the woman had time to ask any more questions. They heard her protests and hurried down another corridor.
”Not downstairs, I take it?” Cordelia asked, and Wesley shook his head with emphasis.
”Hold on,” he said a few seconds later, pulling her aside while he was peeking through a half-open door, leading to another office, somewhat less formal than the first, but more so than the corridors. Pleased with what he saw, he hauled Cordelia forward. ”This is empty. Do you have the disc?”
”Well, if I didn’t this little exercise would be pointless, wouldn’t it?” Cordelia said, pulling the disc from her purse. Wesley had already seated himself by the computer, so she had to be content with hanging over his shoulder after putting the disc into its slot. The computer seemed to take forever to get started. ”They’re compatible, right?” she asked.
”Of course. Willow knows what she’s doing.” Wesley may have sounded calmer than Cordelia, but he was just as relieved as she was when the perky little icons showed up in front of him, and Willow’s wicca disc was among them.
”Cordy, watch the door,” Wesley said. The installation itself was easy, but the chants demanded his sort of talent more than hers.
She willingly placed herself between the computer and the door. ”What do I do if someone comes?”
”Flirt a bit with them, and then kick them really hard and drop a heavy object on their heads. Qui habitat in adjutorio Altissimi, in protectione Dei commorabitur...”
”Like this?” she asked, holding up a paper-weight made of glass.
”Perfect. Please don’t interrupt me. Dicet Domino: Susceptor meus es tu, et refugium meum...”
”Sorry,” she said, getting comfortable in her position, leaning on the bookshelf with the paper-weight behind her back. A few minutes later, Wesley finished his chanting and ejected the disc again. He couldn’t see any results, but then again, that was quite the point.
”Ready to go?” he asked Cordelia, who nodded and put the paper-weight in her purse.
”I think I’ll keep this. Gives a good swing.”
”Let’s hope you don’t need it,” Wesley said, and they hurried to leave the room, trying to look as if they belonged in this place. It worked well through the first corridor, but then a group of people came up from the stairs to the basement, and among them Wesley recognized Sam Hartnell. There was no time to turn back, they had already been seen.
”Cordelia?” he said, grabbing Cordelia’s hand and starting towards the exit. ”Swing.”
The fastest of the people reached them, and Cordelia swung.
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