Angel watched as Wes looked over the main room of his quarters, slowly pacing the perimeter and occasionally touching things as he did so. It made Angel both amused and nervous at the same time -- amused because Wes' behaviour reminded him of nothing so strongly of how a cat would check out a new location to see if it was acceptable, and nervous because he was worried that Wes wouldn't find it acceptable.
After making a full circuit of the room, Wes stopped and turned to look at him. "So it's just you and Connor here...?"
"Yeah. That's his room," Angel said, pointing at the door to it, then turning to point at the other bedroom door. "And that's mine. Yours too if you don't mind sharing...?"
Wes smiled at him and Angel thought he would do or say pretty much anything to keep that expression on Wes' face. "I don't mind sharing with you," Wes assured him, a teasing glint coming into his eyes. "It might even discourage you from getting me naked in inappropriate places."
"Kinda doubt it," Angel replied easily, the memory of taking Wes amidst the library stacks fresh and vivid in his mind.
"Yes, I rather expected that was going to be your answer, especially when you're smirking at me like that."
"Like what?" As far as he knew Angel had kept his expression perfectly innocent. "I'm not smirking.... am I?"
Still smiling, Wes crossed the room to where Angel was standing. He raised his hand and traced Angel's lips with one light finger. "You are," Wes told him softly, amusement in his voice and his eyes. "So much so that I'm beginning to wonder if I'm about to find myself sans clothes again."
"I can't say the thought hasn't crossed my mind," Angel admitted. Not that he was seriously considering it; there were other things they needed to do first. Or so he kept reminding himself.
"Thought so," Wes replied. "And I may be willing to oblige you -- after I've had something to eat and get cleaned up." He paused. "I am assuming you have a shower or such here?"
"Yeah," Angel said, gesturing at the door to the bathroom, centred between the two bedrooms, trying to ignore the part of his brain that was happily pointing out that shower would mean not only a naked Wes, but a wet naked Wes. In an effort to avoid looking like a complete and total horny letch, Angel offered, "I can cook you something while you're using the shower if you want...?"
"You cook?" Wes asked, seeming surprised.
He wasn't the first one to have that reaction to Angel's claim of culinary skills. "Yeah I cook," he told him. "Nothing fancy, but I'm told it's edible. Got a growing kid who wouldn't be satisfied if I tried to feed him a cup of blood for dinner, so I've lots of practice."
"A vampire of many talents." Wes smiled. "Which I already knew, I'll just add another talent to the list."
"So going to take me up on my offer then?"
"Yes." Wes leaned in and gave him a brief kiss, then he was moving across the room, heading towards the bathroom. "I'll shower when you cook and then I'll let you feed me." With that he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Angel standing there bemused.
Trying to not think too much about the fact that on the other side of the bathroom door Wes was undressing, Angel headed into the small kitchenette and started putting together a hot meal for Wes.
And for Connor; classes should be out by now so he should be back any time now. Which, of course, was the main reason Angel was out here in the kitchen cooking instead of in the shower with Wes offering to scrub any hard to reach places for him.
Angel yanked his mind off that particular track before it could get him into trouble.
Luckily the perfect distraction provided itself in the form of his son's arrival.
"Dad!" Connor called as he came in. Spotting Angel in the kitchen, he tossed his books on the couch and headed straight to him.
"Missed me?" Angel asked as Connor wrapped his arms around his father's waist and Angel hugged him back.
Connor glared up at him. "You're late."
"Had some trouble in Vegas." Angel had made it a point never to lie to his son about what happened when he was gone although he often didn't share the details -- there were some things Connor didn't need to know about his father. Like, for instance, how he was captured by feral humans and brutally tortured. That was a detail that definitely was on the leave out list.
"How bad were you hurt?" Connor asked with narrowed eyes.
Unfortunately sometimes he didn't have to give the details for Connor to figure them out. "I'm fine," Angel replied, dodging the question. "Not a scratch on me, promise."
"Yeah." Connor snorted. "Now. Like I don't know how fast you heal. Gotta think it was pretty bad the way you're avoiding answering."
"Y'know, I think I liked it better when you took everything I said at face value," Angel complained.
"I haven't done that since I was 8, and discovered the great Santa conspiracy," Connor pointed out.
Angel sighed nostalgically. "I miss the days you believed in Santa. You were so cute when you got all hyper over your presents."
"Let it go, Dad," Connor said with the kind of world weariness that only a teenager could manage.
"You were, you know," Angel said, not quite able to resist pushing for one more comment.
"Dad," Connor warned.
"All right, all right." Angel held his hands up in an 'I give' gesture. "No reminiscing. I'll try to forget you were ever anything but fourteen."
Connor grinned. "I'd appreciate it."
Turning back to the meal he was preparing, Angel asked, "Hungry?"
"I'm fourteen," Connor reminded him. "I'm always hungry."
"I knew that," Angel said. "This should be ready in a few minutes."
"Cool." Connor leaned against the counter and watched Angel cook in silence. "So was it really bad?" he finally asked, going back to the question that Angel had never answered.
Giving in, Angel said softly, "Yeah. It was." He turned to look at Connor who was wearing a troubled expression. "But I'm fine now, really. Like you said, I heal real fast."
"Yeah," Connor said, but he still looked worried.
This was why Angel didn't like sharing these kinds of details with his son; he hated to see Connor upset, especially if he was the cause.
"Besides," Angel began in a deliberately cheerful tone, trying to reassure him, "as trips go, this one was much more good than bad. I found a library that was pretty much intact. Brought back a whole lot of books. And-"
"Really?" Connor interrupted, brightening at that news. "Anything I can read?"
Angel frowned, mentally going over the list of titles they'd brought back. "Not sure. They're all in Doyle's office right now. But like I said, the library's intact; if there isn't anything Connor-approved in this batch, we can just pick you up something next time."
Connor grinned. "Cool."
"Books aren't the only things I brought back," Angel said, deciding that now was as good a time as any to bring up the subject of Wes. Especially since he should be getting out of the shower any ti-
As if on cue the bathroom door opened and Wes came out -- clad only in a towel wrapped around his waist. "Angel, do you know where my pack with my clothes went? I know you prefer me naked but-" Wes stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Connor.
There was a moment of complete silence as Angel looked back and forth between his son and his... Wes. It wasn't the way he would have planned to introduce them, but it did certainly take care of some awkward fumbling explanations. "Like I said," Angel broke the silence with a small sardonic smile. "Books aren't the only things I brought back."
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