Lar ||| Buffy & Angel

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by Lar

Email: HERE
Rating: PG (barely)
Couple: Angel/Wesley
Disclaimer: Not mine. Damn it.
Distribution: list archives, biblio, eterniata. Anyone else crazy enough to want it, please ask.
Summary: Bedtime for Angel and Wes.
Notes: ficlet for Criss, who gave me the scenario and asked for a few paragraphs. And that's what she got.

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Three a.m. in the Hyperion. The only sound is the ticking of the antique clock in Angel's suite, the rustle of limbs turning and the light breathing coming from the warm body beside him. Angel stares unseeing at the book he holds and instead listens to the inhale-exhale, soothing rhythm.

Pale gold glow from the bedside lamps glints on the rims of Wesley's glasses as he scootches under the covers and adjusts his pillow before picking up a dusty volume and trying to find his place. Translations are relaxing for him when there's no deadline of impending doom hanging on every tense shift and vowel placement. The Shkeerclom Prophecies are ancient and more wrong than right, but it's soothing to take the scrawled demonic characters and twist his brain 'round them until they form some kind of logic in this world.

With Wes settling in, Angel blinks and turns his attention to the leather bound book of poetry, hundreds of years old, written longhand by the poet himself and bound by monks. Or something like that, he forgets the specifics. He just likes the prose, the cadence of the writer's stanzas. He flips a few pages, looking for his spot, eyes flickering over faded ink. Hears Wes doing the same beside him.

Angel pauses. Hands the book to his right without a word, picking up the book Wes proffers him in exchange. Both settle in again, Wes with a smile of satisfaction as the characters reveal their secrets. Angel with a furrowed brow as he contemplates the thoughts of the poet long turned to dust.

end



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