Fic: Wes/Mal - Firefly/Ats crossover
For thunder_nari. We started talking a year ago, and haven't stopped. :) So per her request, I give you:
Pairing: Wesley Wyndam-Pryce/Capt. Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Angel the Series/Firefly
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst and a little kink.
A/N: No beta, apologies for errors and stuff I don't want to point out in case you all don't notice. All quotations are from AtS: "Five by Five," "A Hole in the World," "She," "Forgiving," "Slouching Toward Bethlehem," and "Shells" in that order.
Disclaimer: I don't own nothin'. But writing this has made me sorely miss my dead gay show.
Summary: Wesley's been out in the black with Mal and the gang for quite awhile, and he'd rather not remember where he's come from. Mal wants more from him.
Starting Over
“Put that stuff over there, and we’ll be done for this trip.”
“We bloody better be. Otherwise, I’ll be pulling Simon off of that go se moon and having him give me something for this disc that’s about to get slipped in my back if you, Captain, think I am lifting one more thing.”
“No, don’t think you will, Pryce. You think I corralled us this job for nothing? Got the rest of the crew those vouchers for that inn in payment?” Mal smoothed a hand over Wes’s back as he got up from bending over. The cotton of his shirt rucked up so that skin hit skin.
“I always knew you were a sneaky prat.”
“Well, I don’t speak Earth, but I’m going to take that as a compliment, and I think you’ll be glad I did once you find out what I’ve got in store for you.” Mal’s eyes glittered and he playfully shoved Wes back onto some of the cargo crates Wes had just been lifting.
“No more boxes?” Wes eyed Mal warily, casually leaning back a little on his hands, knowing just what might happen if he let his guard down too soon. “And you had better not be thinking we’re having any kind of sex out here in the cargo hold. I won’t have Jayne whistling at us like last time.” Wesley smirked. “You know I prefer people only hearing us.”
“And here I thought I was the difficult one of the two of us.” Mal leaned in, hands covering Wesley’s as his mouth got damn close to Wesley’s amused lips.
“Are you saying I’m easy, Malcolm?”
“Hell, yes.” Mal breathed with a pretty smile, a smile that got his eyes to crinkle around the edges just the way Wes liked, as he snagged Wes’s lips like quicksand, only going deeper as Wes responded.
“Mm, yes.” Wesley moaned, demurely somehow, “Now may we get out of this ‘gorram’ cargo bay so we can have some actual sex where I make you scream?” Wesley responded so casually, his eyes already heading towards dark as he caught his breath from Mal’s kiss. He stood up with Mal so their hips were like Jayne’s hands on a gun. “I’ve been getting tired of having to muffle that...expressive mouth of yours, Captain.”
“Well, wait no longer, boy.” Mal pulled a length of white silk handkerchief out of his pants pocket. It was Wesley’s, the recognition instant on his face.. His mouth was a question but Mal put a finger to his lips. “We’re doing this one my way. You might be the one screaming.” Mal added with a grin. Wesley nodded with a curious smile, and dipped his head slightly so Mal could tie the blindfold around his eyes. It wasn’t really doing much, but it gave Wes a little hint of what was to come...
“How’s that feel, Wes? Give me some of that vo-cab-u-lary you berate Jayne about so well.” Mal tugged Wesley skillfully to the stairs, catching glimpses of Wes licking his lips and giving little quirks of his mouth in amusement at the challenge.
“Smooth. Delicate,” he said slowly, measuring his words as if seeing how they tasted. “It feels like when you’ve got your arms around me when you think I’m asleep, Mal.” Wesley gave another quirk of his lips, knowing he’d hit a soft spot.
Mal smiled though. It was obvious Wes would never say that if he could look Mal in the eye. A man liked his secrets, and the two of them? Liked having their secrets the most of anyone on this ship. Mal may have bedded Wesley time and time again, but he didn’t know a damn thing about his past. Which Mal took fine, since he hadn’t told Wes any of his own, but there seemed to be too much inside this man clasping his hand. They were gonna try getting some things on the outside.
- - -
The door creaked closed and Wesley’s knees hit something soft. Soft things didn’t exist on Serenity. ...Except in Inara’s shuttle. Wesley took a deep breath, took in his surroundings. Incense, tea, delicious things sweet and spicy.
“Mal?”
“Right here.”
Wes landed with a whoosh on his back against more soft things. Pillows, curtains, sheets, a soft huge bunk. Three times as wide as Mal’s bunk. “Does Inara know we’re here?”
“Nope.”
Wesley could hear Mal’s wicked grin.
“You’re going to replace anything we...get dirty, right?”
“’Course.” Mal murmured, nuzzling against Wesley’s neck, his weight making the bed creak.
Wes wound his hands into Mal’s hair. “This was your big plan?”
“Nope. Just gettin’ started.” Mal was grinning when the blindfold was slipped from Wesley’s eyes, and he could really see the dark, rich reds and golds of Inara’s shuttle before having his eyes covered again, this time with a heavier, blue silk. This one he couldn’t see through, it had been folded over so many times, a midnight sky without stars.
He felt Mal move away again, the bed creaking in defiance once more.
Wesley’s clothes were shed and he felt more and more cool air pillow over him.
“Mal?” Wesley questioned the darkness, a shiver running through him as he felt his entire body bare and rustling lightly on top of smooth cotton sheets with each breath.
“Still here, pretty boy.” Mal’s voice was surprisingly low, and Wes didn’t have time to be affronted by the endearment/insult as he felt the slither of fingers riding up the inside of his thigh. “Just enjoyin’ the view.”
The next thing Wes felt between his thighs was cool, metal. It felt like it sparkled, or maybe it was just the way it danced over tender skin, contrasting with his own body heat. “Mal,” Wesley moaned softly, spreading his legs that fraction wider.
“Mm, that’s it.” The cool strand of links danced along Wesley’s cock, making it jump, just as Mal’s voice seemed to want it to. His balls though, recoiled at the chill, and Wes gasped, sucking in a breath as the chain? circled around the thin skin of his balls and squeezed lightly. Wesley was opening his mouth to protest, or maybe ask for more, when the metal was removed, and the words were caught in Wesley’s throat.
Mal coiled a spiral of the quickly cooling and warming metal around the column of Wes’s hardening cock, watching with amusement as his erection twitched and filled, the newness of the sensation obviously getting to Wes just like he’d hoped.
Lips parted, breath going shallow, Wes let out a slow moan as Mal dragged the chain along Wesley’s chest up to his neck. Wesley’s mouth closed, lips turned to a tight line when Mal pulled it taut across Wesley’s throat, letting the teeth of the chain bite into Wes’s neck. Wesley could breath, could move away from it, but he didn’t. He whimpered, though, and Mal could see the tension on Wesley’s face. Not what Mal’d been expecting. But a good sign that he was going to see something new tonight... which he definitely was.
Wesley was spread over Inara’s bed, legs askew and body ready to start trembling. He looked about to cover himself, circle the cool cotton over him and pull Mal into a cocoon of small touches and light moans. He looked exposed, and that was not how Wesley looked. Not here on Serenity, not in Mal’s bunk, not ever.
Fingers scrunching in the cotton sheets, Wesley’s brain was dizzy, waiting for the next cool touch, the next caress from Mal. But it didn’t happen, and he very nearly asked for Mal again. Mal apparently had other plans
“Oh!” Wesley arched, his stomach rippling with drops of heat, drips of heat. “Mal, I-“
We've only done one of the five basic torture groups. We've done blunt, but that still leaves sharp, hot, cold, and loud...
“Shh,” was all Mal murmured, his hands skating up and down Wesley’s sides, massaging muscles, brushing over his nipples, softly playing Wes and then disappearing only to force Wesley to take in a sharp breath as drops of what he could now smell to be wax hit his skin.
“Mal,” Wesley squirmed, but was pinned under Mal’s naked weight. “ Don’t. This isn’t-“
“No it’s not.” Mal said firmly, dragging a trail with his finger through some of the cooling wax at Wesley’s sternum. “Relax, little boy. You trust me.” Mal said it without a doubt, without a question. It was fact in Mal’s mind, and if Wesley let himself think about it, it was in Wesley’s mind too.
When Mal dripped a little onto Wesley’s nipple, he cried out harsh and ragged, the sound echoing against the ship, but it was his hips that thrust up, not his hands to stop Mal. “Mal.”
“Yeah, partner?”
“Mal, no torture,” Wes got in while there was a pause in Mal’s...work.
“Wasn’t planning on it.” Mal leaned over, the bed inevitably creaking, and licked and soothed all the little red spots from the wax. Red blotches Wesley couldn’t see from behind the darkness of the blindfold. “You trust me. Keep doing that, baobei.” Mal never called Wesley that - never called anyone that - and this time it was barely a breath, but it hit Wesley like a sucker punch, and he felt water building around his darkened vision. He couldn’t do anything but wonder why Mal was doing this to him. Making him remember. When all he’d wanted was to forget.
Please, Wesley...why can't I stay?
Wesley squeezed his eyes shut focusing on Mal’s mouth, his tender tongue, his sweet lips mouthing at the heat on his skin, nudging arousal to the surface, cajoling his body, his memories.
“Still with me?”
Wesley nodded biting and then licking his lips as he reminded himself to keep trusting Mal. Keep feeling all of Mal’s little touches, licks.
“What- w-what gave you the idea for this?”
“You.” Mal’s lips were on his throat now, and Wes could feel the heavy brush of Mal’s erection against his thigh. “You’re different, so thought I’d try something different. That okay?” Mal nibbled at the soft skin beneath Wes’s jaw, sucking softly, then harder, and harder again.
“Yes,” Wesley hissed, arching against Mal’s mouth.
Well, that’s... I can’t tell you... I am your faithful servant, Angel.
“Yes.”
“Good.” Mal studied Wes, looking for some sign that Wes wasn’t saying all he should be. Mal could read a ship, his crew; one man naked beneath him should be easy.
Mal knew there was more, and he was ready to tease it out of Wes. He didn’t know what was happening in Wes’s brain, but he had to try something to get this through Wes’s head...
Mal pulled a strand of feathers and fluttered them over Wes’s hardening cock, watching Wes’s skin flush and fill until Wes’s hips lifted off the bed. “Mal,” Wesley moaned, hands clenching and unclenching in the sheets.
Every flutter of feathers was too light to be felt at first, but then the sensation would race over him and the next would chase after it until Wes had no time to think, only feel. He couldn’t contain himself, couldn’t hold his hips still. “Mal,” Wes breathed, chest heaving. Every sensation was sharp, clear, one tendril to the next. He could feel each tickle, each brush of touch against his erection, balls, chest, feet, neck, thighs. He was straining up for more, couldn’t let it stop, couldn’t breath, couldn’t talk, couldn’t think...
You're gonna pay for what you did! You took my son! You son of a bitch! You bastard! You think I'd forgive you?! Never!
It wasn’t until he felt the smooth lick of heavy leather against his thighs, his nipples, between his legs that he could even think a new thought, much less breathe. “Please,” Wesley begged as he felt the flat, blunt edge of what he thought, hoped, was Mal’s belt. He didn’t know what he was begging for, but suddenly he felt the cloying, heady smell of incense trying to get pulled into his lungs. He was trying to pull the whole room into his lungs. All of it, the silk, the lace, the perfume, the whole-
His breath went out in a whoosh when he felt the sudden sting of leather against his thigh. “Mal!” Wes cried loudly, hands reaching for Mal.
“Shh. Keep breathing. Want you, Wes. Keep breathing for me. Stay with me.” Mal pressed a hot kiss to Wes’s neck, then his mouth. Wes met his mouth breath for breath, focusing on Mal. Mal was doing this for him. Mal wanted him. Mal was here for him. This wasn’t just....
So Angel knows about our relationship. Big deal.
A dollar! You owe me a dollar!
Wesley clutched at Mal’s bicep and kept him close for another round of kisses, thick wet, deep. He couldn’t see Mal, but he felt Mal willingly falling into his kisses, felt him slide his thigh between Wes legs. Wes moaned and rutted against Mal’s thigh. “Mal. Mal, please. Need you. Inside.” Mal could hear the need vibrating though Wes’s voice, and felt it mirrored in his own. Something was going right. He could feel it. Teetering on the edge, but going right.
“Right here. You’ve got me.” Mal’s hands were rough, calloused, and his index finger most of all, one of Wesley’s favorite things, Mal knew. But he held Wes with the finest care, hearing more breaths escape as Wes relaxed with each touch. He ran his finger up Wesley’s cock, and watched as it jumped to his hand, a moan hitting the back of Wes’s throat.
The blindfold stayed in place as Mal rolled Wesley on his stomach, bed squeaking with the movement. Wesley’s hips were in the air before Mal could move them, but his hand staying wrapped around Wes’s stiff length, stayed with Wes. “Still with me?” Mal’s rough trigger finger nudged at Wesley’s entrance, his own lust hollering at him to get on with it.
“Yes, yes, Mal. Please.” And he was. The memories weren’t clouding his vision. They were clearing it. He didn’t need to forget. He bucked back into Mal’s hand getting that penetration he’d wanted.
Mal’s cock was slick and sliding in as soon as he was sure Wes wasn’t breaking. “God, Wes.” Mal moaned, enveloped in Wesley’s heat as he thrust in slow and hard.
Their bodies undulated against each other, hips meeting hips, chest to back, thighs hugging thighs as the waves and rolls and thrusts coursed between them, a lazy motion turning frantic and frenzied as neither could hold on, as Wesley’s past and present and future rolled together and he felt it being absorbed into the man behind him.
The bed screeched and groaned with their bodies, playing out the waves of urgency and calling them out to fill their ears with the sound of their need. They both roared and cried each other’s name as they came, the bed’s screams coming to a halt. Wesley’s arms trembled and caved once the shock waves went through them both. Mal collapsed on top of him, and Wes felt right for the first time since he’d gotten to this ‘verse. Safe underneath a heavy weight of...the future. There was hope flooding through him along with happiness and pleasure.
“Thank you, Mal. Thank you,” Wes murmured as he folded himself around Mal, and felt Inara’s sheets being pulled over him. He was safe. This was his life. It was new, but still his life. And it wasn’t going to be taken away from him.
There's love. There's hope...for some. There's hope that you'll find something worthy...that your life will lead you to some joy...that after everything...you can still be surprised.
Pairing: Wesley Wyndam-Pryce/Capt. Malcolm Reynolds
Fandom: Angel the Series/Firefly
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Angst and a little kink.
A/N: No beta, apologies for errors and stuff I don't want to point out in case you all don't notice. All quotations are from AtS: "Five by Five," "A Hole in the World," "She," "Forgiving," "Slouching Toward Bethlehem," and "Shells" in that order.
Disclaimer: I don't own nothin'. But writing this has made me sorely miss my dead gay show.
Summary: Wesley's been out in the black with Mal and the gang for quite awhile, and he'd rather not remember where he's come from. Mal wants more from him.
Starting Over
“Put that stuff over there, and we’ll be done for this trip.”
“We bloody better be. Otherwise, I’ll be pulling Simon off of that go se moon and having him give me something for this disc that’s about to get slipped in my back if you, Captain, think I am lifting one more thing.”
“No, don’t think you will, Pryce. You think I corralled us this job for nothing? Got the rest of the crew those vouchers for that inn in payment?” Mal smoothed a hand over Wes’s back as he got up from bending over. The cotton of his shirt rucked up so that skin hit skin.
“I always knew you were a sneaky prat.”
“Well, I don’t speak Earth, but I’m going to take that as a compliment, and I think you’ll be glad I did once you find out what I’ve got in store for you.” Mal’s eyes glittered and he playfully shoved Wes back onto some of the cargo crates Wes had just been lifting.
“No more boxes?” Wes eyed Mal warily, casually leaning back a little on his hands, knowing just what might happen if he let his guard down too soon. “And you had better not be thinking we’re having any kind of sex out here in the cargo hold. I won’t have Jayne whistling at us like last time.” Wesley smirked. “You know I prefer people only hearing us.”
“And here I thought I was the difficult one of the two of us.” Mal leaned in, hands covering Wesley’s as his mouth got damn close to Wesley’s amused lips.
“Are you saying I’m easy, Malcolm?”
“Hell, yes.” Mal breathed with a pretty smile, a smile that got his eyes to crinkle around the edges just the way Wes liked, as he snagged Wes’s lips like quicksand, only going deeper as Wes responded.
“Mm, yes.” Wesley moaned, demurely somehow, “Now may we get out of this ‘gorram’ cargo bay so we can have some actual sex where I make you scream?” Wesley responded so casually, his eyes already heading towards dark as he caught his breath from Mal’s kiss. He stood up with Mal so their hips were like Jayne’s hands on a gun. “I’ve been getting tired of having to muffle that...expressive mouth of yours, Captain.”
“Well, wait no longer, boy.” Mal pulled a length of white silk handkerchief out of his pants pocket. It was Wesley’s, the recognition instant on his face.. His mouth was a question but Mal put a finger to his lips. “We’re doing this one my way. You might be the one screaming.” Mal added with a grin. Wesley nodded with a curious smile, and dipped his head slightly so Mal could tie the blindfold around his eyes. It wasn’t really doing much, but it gave Wes a little hint of what was to come...
“How’s that feel, Wes? Give me some of that vo-cab-u-lary you berate Jayne about so well.” Mal tugged Wesley skillfully to the stairs, catching glimpses of Wes licking his lips and giving little quirks of his mouth in amusement at the challenge.
“Smooth. Delicate,” he said slowly, measuring his words as if seeing how they tasted. “It feels like when you’ve got your arms around me when you think I’m asleep, Mal.” Wesley gave another quirk of his lips, knowing he’d hit a soft spot.
Mal smiled though. It was obvious Wes would never say that if he could look Mal in the eye. A man liked his secrets, and the two of them? Liked having their secrets the most of anyone on this ship. Mal may have bedded Wesley time and time again, but he didn’t know a damn thing about his past. Which Mal took fine, since he hadn’t told Wes any of his own, but there seemed to be too much inside this man clasping his hand. They were gonna try getting some things on the outside.
- - -
The door creaked closed and Wesley’s knees hit something soft. Soft things didn’t exist on Serenity. ...Except in Inara’s shuttle. Wesley took a deep breath, took in his surroundings. Incense, tea, delicious things sweet and spicy.
“Mal?”
“Right here.”
Wes landed with a whoosh on his back against more soft things. Pillows, curtains, sheets, a soft huge bunk. Three times as wide as Mal’s bunk. “Does Inara know we’re here?”
“Nope.”
Wesley could hear Mal’s wicked grin.
“You’re going to replace anything we...get dirty, right?”
“’Course.” Mal murmured, nuzzling against Wesley’s neck, his weight making the bed creak.
Wes wound his hands into Mal’s hair. “This was your big plan?”
“Nope. Just gettin’ started.” Mal was grinning when the blindfold was slipped from Wesley’s eyes, and he could really see the dark, rich reds and golds of Inara’s shuttle before having his eyes covered again, this time with a heavier, blue silk. This one he couldn’t see through, it had been folded over so many times, a midnight sky without stars.
He felt Mal move away again, the bed creaking in defiance once more.
Wesley’s clothes were shed and he felt more and more cool air pillow over him.
“Mal?” Wesley questioned the darkness, a shiver running through him as he felt his entire body bare and rustling lightly on top of smooth cotton sheets with each breath.
“Still here, pretty boy.” Mal’s voice was surprisingly low, and Wes didn’t have time to be affronted by the endearment/insult as he felt the slither of fingers riding up the inside of his thigh. “Just enjoyin’ the view.”
The next thing Wes felt between his thighs was cool, metal. It felt like it sparkled, or maybe it was just the way it danced over tender skin, contrasting with his own body heat. “Mal,” Wesley moaned softly, spreading his legs that fraction wider.
“Mm, that’s it.” The cool strand of links danced along Wesley’s cock, making it jump, just as Mal’s voice seemed to want it to. His balls though, recoiled at the chill, and Wes gasped, sucking in a breath as the chain? circled around the thin skin of his balls and squeezed lightly. Wesley was opening his mouth to protest, or maybe ask for more, when the metal was removed, and the words were caught in Wesley’s throat.
Mal coiled a spiral of the quickly cooling and warming metal around the column of Wes’s hardening cock, watching with amusement as his erection twitched and filled, the newness of the sensation obviously getting to Wes just like he’d hoped.
Lips parted, breath going shallow, Wes let out a slow moan as Mal dragged the chain along Wesley’s chest up to his neck. Wesley’s mouth closed, lips turned to a tight line when Mal pulled it taut across Wesley’s throat, letting the teeth of the chain bite into Wes’s neck. Wesley could breath, could move away from it, but he didn’t. He whimpered, though, and Mal could see the tension on Wesley’s face. Not what Mal’d been expecting. But a good sign that he was going to see something new tonight... which he definitely was.
Wesley was spread over Inara’s bed, legs askew and body ready to start trembling. He looked about to cover himself, circle the cool cotton over him and pull Mal into a cocoon of small touches and light moans. He looked exposed, and that was not how Wesley looked. Not here on Serenity, not in Mal’s bunk, not ever.
Fingers scrunching in the cotton sheets, Wesley’s brain was dizzy, waiting for the next cool touch, the next caress from Mal. But it didn’t happen, and he very nearly asked for Mal again. Mal apparently had other plans
“Oh!” Wesley arched, his stomach rippling with drops of heat, drips of heat. “Mal, I-“
We've only done one of the five basic torture groups. We've done blunt, but that still leaves sharp, hot, cold, and loud...
“Shh,” was all Mal murmured, his hands skating up and down Wesley’s sides, massaging muscles, brushing over his nipples, softly playing Wes and then disappearing only to force Wesley to take in a sharp breath as drops of what he could now smell to be wax hit his skin.
“Mal,” Wesley squirmed, but was pinned under Mal’s naked weight. “ Don’t. This isn’t-“
“No it’s not.” Mal said firmly, dragging a trail with his finger through some of the cooling wax at Wesley’s sternum. “Relax, little boy. You trust me.” Mal said it without a doubt, without a question. It was fact in Mal’s mind, and if Wesley let himself think about it, it was in Wesley’s mind too.
When Mal dripped a little onto Wesley’s nipple, he cried out harsh and ragged, the sound echoing against the ship, but it was his hips that thrust up, not his hands to stop Mal. “Mal.”
“Yeah, partner?”
“Mal, no torture,” Wes got in while there was a pause in Mal’s...work.
“Wasn’t planning on it.” Mal leaned over, the bed inevitably creaking, and licked and soothed all the little red spots from the wax. Red blotches Wesley couldn’t see from behind the darkness of the blindfold. “You trust me. Keep doing that, baobei.” Mal never called Wesley that - never called anyone that - and this time it was barely a breath, but it hit Wesley like a sucker punch, and he felt water building around his darkened vision. He couldn’t do anything but wonder why Mal was doing this to him. Making him remember. When all he’d wanted was to forget.
Please, Wesley...why can't I stay?
Wesley squeezed his eyes shut focusing on Mal’s mouth, his tender tongue, his sweet lips mouthing at the heat on his skin, nudging arousal to the surface, cajoling his body, his memories.
“Still with me?”
Wesley nodded biting and then licking his lips as he reminded himself to keep trusting Mal. Keep feeling all of Mal’s little touches, licks.
“What- w-what gave you the idea for this?”
“You.” Mal’s lips were on his throat now, and Wes could feel the heavy brush of Mal’s erection against his thigh. “You’re different, so thought I’d try something different. That okay?” Mal nibbled at the soft skin beneath Wes’s jaw, sucking softly, then harder, and harder again.
“Yes,” Wesley hissed, arching against Mal’s mouth.
Well, that’s... I can’t tell you... I am your faithful servant, Angel.
“Yes.”
“Good.” Mal studied Wes, looking for some sign that Wes wasn’t saying all he should be. Mal could read a ship, his crew; one man naked beneath him should be easy.
Mal knew there was more, and he was ready to tease it out of Wes. He didn’t know what was happening in Wes’s brain, but he had to try something to get this through Wes’s head...
Mal pulled a strand of feathers and fluttered them over Wes’s hardening cock, watching Wes’s skin flush and fill until Wes’s hips lifted off the bed. “Mal,” Wesley moaned, hands clenching and unclenching in the sheets.
Every flutter of feathers was too light to be felt at first, but then the sensation would race over him and the next would chase after it until Wes had no time to think, only feel. He couldn’t contain himself, couldn’t hold his hips still. “Mal,” Wes breathed, chest heaving. Every sensation was sharp, clear, one tendril to the next. He could feel each tickle, each brush of touch against his erection, balls, chest, feet, neck, thighs. He was straining up for more, couldn’t let it stop, couldn’t breath, couldn’t talk, couldn’t think...
You're gonna pay for what you did! You took my son! You son of a bitch! You bastard! You think I'd forgive you?! Never!
It wasn’t until he felt the smooth lick of heavy leather against his thighs, his nipples, between his legs that he could even think a new thought, much less breathe. “Please,” Wesley begged as he felt the flat, blunt edge of what he thought, hoped, was Mal’s belt. He didn’t know what he was begging for, but suddenly he felt the cloying, heady smell of incense trying to get pulled into his lungs. He was trying to pull the whole room into his lungs. All of it, the silk, the lace, the perfume, the whole-
His breath went out in a whoosh when he felt the sudden sting of leather against his thigh. “Mal!” Wes cried loudly, hands reaching for Mal.
“Shh. Keep breathing. Want you, Wes. Keep breathing for me. Stay with me.” Mal pressed a hot kiss to Wes’s neck, then his mouth. Wes met his mouth breath for breath, focusing on Mal. Mal was doing this for him. Mal wanted him. Mal was here for him. This wasn’t just....
So Angel knows about our relationship. Big deal.
A dollar! You owe me a dollar!
Wesley clutched at Mal’s bicep and kept him close for another round of kisses, thick wet, deep. He couldn’t see Mal, but he felt Mal willingly falling into his kisses, felt him slide his thigh between Wes legs. Wes moaned and rutted against Mal’s thigh. “Mal. Mal, please. Need you. Inside.” Mal could hear the need vibrating though Wes’s voice, and felt it mirrored in his own. Something was going right. He could feel it. Teetering on the edge, but going right.
“Right here. You’ve got me.” Mal’s hands were rough, calloused, and his index finger most of all, one of Wesley’s favorite things, Mal knew. But he held Wes with the finest care, hearing more breaths escape as Wes relaxed with each touch. He ran his finger up Wesley’s cock, and watched as it jumped to his hand, a moan hitting the back of Wes’s throat.
The blindfold stayed in place as Mal rolled Wesley on his stomach, bed squeaking with the movement. Wesley’s hips were in the air before Mal could move them, but his hand staying wrapped around Wes’s stiff length, stayed with Wes. “Still with me?” Mal’s rough trigger finger nudged at Wesley’s entrance, his own lust hollering at him to get on with it.
“Yes, yes, Mal. Please.” And he was. The memories weren’t clouding his vision. They were clearing it. He didn’t need to forget. He bucked back into Mal’s hand getting that penetration he’d wanted.
Mal’s cock was slick and sliding in as soon as he was sure Wes wasn’t breaking. “God, Wes.” Mal moaned, enveloped in Wesley’s heat as he thrust in slow and hard.
Their bodies undulated against each other, hips meeting hips, chest to back, thighs hugging thighs as the waves and rolls and thrusts coursed between them, a lazy motion turning frantic and frenzied as neither could hold on, as Wesley’s past and present and future rolled together and he felt it being absorbed into the man behind him.
The bed screeched and groaned with their bodies, playing out the waves of urgency and calling them out to fill their ears with the sound of their need. They both roared and cried each other’s name as they came, the bed’s screams coming to a halt. Wesley’s arms trembled and caved once the shock waves went through them both. Mal collapsed on top of him, and Wes felt right for the first time since he’d gotten to this ‘verse. Safe underneath a heavy weight of...the future. There was hope flooding through him along with happiness and pleasure.
“Thank you, Mal. Thank you,” Wes murmured as he folded himself around Mal, and felt Inara’s sheets being pulled over him. He was safe. This was his life. It was new, but still his life. And it wasn’t going to be taken away from him.
There's love. There's hope...for some. There's hope that you'll find something worthy...that your life will lead you to some joy...that after everything...you can still be surprised.