Eurydice (eurydice72) wrote,
Eurydice
eurydice72

From Heaven Above to Earth I Come, ch. 2

And more of our porny, happy Wes/Faith Christmas fic...

TITLE: From Heaven Above to Earth I Come
AUTHORS: Eurydice & Pepperlandgirl
RATING: NC17
SETTING: 6 months post-NFA
PAIRING: Wes/Faith
DISCLAIMER: Not ours, which is a shame because usually we're nicer to them than Joss was.

The story starts here.

Chapter Two


Coherency returned to Wesley about an hour after Faith finally fell asleep. He didn’t know what time it was, but the light outside was silver and purple, the sky a soft shade of pink. He propped himself up on his elbow and watched her sleep, mesmerized by the way her skin glistened in the low light, by the sound of her breath, by the contrast of her dark lashes on her pale skin. A thousand things that he would have taken for granted before seemed novel, breathtaking. Including the sound of his own heart beating.

Six months? How had it been only six months? Time had been far different for him, if time had existed at all. Time was a purely human construct and it didn’t have any place in eternity.

Wesley couldn’t stop touching her. She had been afraid that he would disappear, but he was more worried that she would be torn away from him. He didn’t want to lose her now. She was a gift, some sort of reward, a prize for finally getting something right. She was solid. He supposed this could be some illusion, some fantasy, but he had never been in any sort of fantasy before. He had mulled over each memory that belonged to him, followed each scenario to its logical conclusion, worked out every possibility and every alternative to every choice he had ever made, but he had never been lost to such an elaborate dream.

Wesley didn’t know if he had achieved some sort of inner-peace, or found God, or reached Enlightenment, but he did know that all the pieces of him that had been slightly askew were in their proper place, all the parts that had been broken were mended, and all the ragged edges had been smoothed over. He hadn’t asked Faith about Charles because he knew that Charles had been with him—Cordelia and Fred as well.

He didn’t know why he got the second chance and they didn’t.

Faith stirred and he put a reassuring hand on her stomach. She quieted, settling back into her sleep, and Wesley thought maybe he did know.

Cordelia was granted a reprieve from the Powers when she had unfinished business with Angel. They had owed Cordelia a favor, but Wesley thought the Powers owed them all a favor, and he was more than happy to collect.

He just hoped his reprieve was a bit longer than Cordy’s had been. But, at the risk of being arrogant, Wes thought Faith needed him more than Angel needed Cordelia. He couldn’t give Faith a kiss and a vision.

He could give her a lot more than a kiss. Faith wasn’t going to be alone again.

Beneath his hand, he felt her stomach rumble, but even as the corner of his mouth was lifting in amusement, Faith grimaced, her succulent lower lip pouting for a long moment before her eyes fluttered open. Her mouth and throat worked together, wetting for speech, but when she spoke, her voice was still raspy from disuse. “Fuck. Did I fall asleep?”

“Only for a little while.” He traced a circle around her belly button. “There’s food here. Why don’t we go see what we can find?”

Another gurgle from her stomach answered his question for her, and a pink stain crept into her cheeks. For some reason, it amused Wes that of all things that could embarrass Faith, it would be this.

“We talking real food? Or more of what Giles was calling food?” She grinned as she rolled onto her side to face him. “Though any country that comes right out and calls spotted dick a national tradition can’t be all bad.”

He smiled. “Poor Faith. Has Giles been feeding you bubble and squeak?”

“What the fuck is bubble and squeak?”

He laughed at the perplexed, and slightly horrified, look on her face. “Mashed potatoes and cabbage, usually.” Bracing himself for the cold, he pushed the blanket aside and jumped out of bed. He snatched the flannel robe hanging on the back of the door. “We should go out where the fire is anyway. It’s getting a bit chilly in here.” He grabbed the second robe and held it out to her, holding it open as she climbed out of bed. Once it was wrapped around her tightly, he took her hand. “I’m sure we can find something in there that’s edible.”

She followed him without a word. It wasn’t a long path to the galley kitchen, but it was long enough for Wes to become aware of exactly how small her hand was in his. Remembering how she fought, it was simple to forget that she was still essentially a young woman. Faith might hold a world of power in her deft hands, but her fingers still laced through his with an easy fit, her body still bowed beneath his as he lost himself in her flesh.

She went straight for the refrigerator, pulling it open to peer inside. “Well, at least they didn’t want us to starve,” she commented.

“Yes, that was extremely thoughtful of them,” Wesley agreed. Over her shoulder he spotted a cheese board, chipolatas, mini mince pies, fruit cake, a cold meat platter, oranges, and clotted cream and jam, and milk. There was even a fresh bloomer and scones on the side. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her shoulder. “This is quite the spread.”

“Good, because I think I could even eat some of that bubble and squeak right about now.”

As reluctant as he was to let her go, Wes left her at the refrigerator in order to go to the cupboard and search for another tray to carry their findings out to the living room. There wasn’t room in the kitchen for eating, and from the way Faith was emptying everything out of the fridge, it was obvious she had every intention to make this a full meal.

She caught his amused glance as she dumped an armful of stuff onto the counter. “Like you’re not hungry, too,” she said.

Wesley was hungry, but he was more distracted by the exposed curve of her neck when she tossed her hair away from her face. “I wouldn’t say that. We worked up a good appetite.” She turned back to the fridge and he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her against him. With his other hand, he picked up one of the mincemeat pies and held it front of her. “Open up.”

Her velvety lashes lowered as she looked more closely at the pastry, but Faith hesitated only for a moment before doing as she was told. Wes placed the tart against her tongue, allowing her to take as large a bite as she wanted, then watched as she sank her teeth into the soft filling, crumbs from the crust spilling onto her lips.

“Oh god,” she said around the morsel. The second half was gone in a flash, her mouth wrapping around his finger and thumb to suck away the last vestiges of the sweet. It didn’t last nearly long enough, and Faith was still chewing when she twisted to look back at him. “How come Giles’ food doesn’t taste this good?”

“I’d guess it’s because Giles’ food wasn’t magically prepared or a part of a mysterious cabin in the middle of nowhere.” He brushed his thumb across her lips, swiping away a spare crumb. “Or maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with the food.”

Wesley released her and began stacking food on the tray. “Have you been staying with Giles? Or are you just visiting for the holidays?”

“Visiting. B dragged me along when she found out Angel was supposed to show.” Faith snorted. “Tried telling her I was fine where I was, but she’s been all weird about Angel ever since she and Spike got back together. I think she thought I’d keep him distracted or something.”

Wesley wasn’t interested in the ongoing drama that was Angel’s relationship with Buffy—he was just relieved to hear there was an ongoing drama. Somehow, he had made it. The relief that his friend had survived was still powerful, even though he had had a few hours to get used to the idea. The world needed him. He didn’t know if his relationship with Angel could ever be fixed, could ever be what it once was, but he knew that given the opportunity, he would join Angel’s mission again.

If Faith was a part of that mission. It sounded like the situation was complicated, and probably further complicated by the fact that there were dozens, or hundreds, of Slayers who needed training.

But that did bring up one rather perplexing question.

“Why is Angel spending the holiday, a holiday he only grudgingly participates in, in London with Giles?”

“Giles wants to hit him up for helping with all the Slayers he doesn’t know what to do with. So he went behind Buffy’s back and called Angel’s girlfriend to give her the invite.” Her smirk was contagious. “And we both know what a pushover he is for pretty little blonde things. Angel never knew what hit him.”

Wesley snorted and shook his head. “Giles’ plan was fiendishly clever. So then Buffy heard about the invite and dragged you with her to England to keep the boys apart?” At her nod, Wesley smiled. “You know, we could have used you at Wolfram and Hart. They once nearly came to blows over astronauts and cavemen, I can’t imagine how tense things must be with Buffy between them.”

Faith scooped up the tray of food and headed for the living room. “Now you get why I signed up for this gig.” The wicked gleam in her eye as she glanced back at him over her shoulder went straight to his cock. “I definitely won that coin toss.”

“Oh, a coin toss? You mean I could have spent last night with somebody else except for chance?” Wesley asked, following her into the living room. He knew that nobody else could have shown up except her—he was quite certain of that.

She didn’t speak until she was seated, cross-legged, on the floor in front of the fireplace. The low flames cast a honeyed glow across the side of her face, and though her features were still slightly swollen from sleep and her eyelids heavy, Wes thought he had never seen her look more beautiful.

“I stopped believing in chance a long time ago,” Faith said. Picking up an orange, she began peeling it, the pungent citrus scent prickling his senses. “I wanted this job. Bad enough to make sure nobody else got it. At least now I know why.”

Wesley settled on the floor beside her and noticed a basket of almonds and a nutcracker beneath the tree. Placing the basket between his knees, he began to crack the nuts, building a small mountain of shells and another mountain of almonds. “Can I have some of that orange?”

She looked up at him through her lashes, her deft fingers tearing apart the fruit and separating a single section to lift to her mouth. “I didn’t hear you say please,” she teased before sucking the orange past her full lips.

Wesley leaned forward and licked the sweet juice from her lips. “Please.”

“Now how can I resist when you ask so nice?”

Another piece of the fruit materialized before she’d finished speaking, and Faith ran it along his lower lip, waiting for them to part so that she could feed it to him. He accommodated her with a slight smile, the burst of sharp citrus on his tongue as he bit into the soft flesh a welcome treat. There wasn’t time to savor the taste, though. Faith chased after it, her mouth fusing to his to demand her fair share.

The juice from the orange coated their tongue and lips. He let her coax the fruit out of his mouth, before breaking the kiss to lap the traces of juice from her skin. It tasted better on her, mingled with the hint of salt. He pulled her lower lip into his mouth sucking on it gently, before trailing his lips down her chin. He broke away from her gradually, unwilling to break the contact until all trace of the juice was gone from her mouth.

“We keep eating this orange like this,” Faith breathed, “it’s going to last us all day.”

Wes smiled. “Though it’s not a bad way to enjoy an orange, is it?” He glanced at the tray on the floor. “You know what we forgot? Something to drink. I’ll make some tea.”

As he started to rise, Faith’s hand shot out and wrapped around his wrist. “Don’t go,” she said. The playfulness was stripped away, and he caught the fear lingering in those doe eyes the moment before she shielded it away again. She tried to turn it into a joke with, “Any more tea, and I’m going to start slaying on the wrong side of the road.”

“That’s fine,” he assured her, settling back down. He stole a quick kiss before busying himself with the food. He divided everything into equal portions, but it was slow work. He kept getting distracted by the way her hair glowed in the firelight, and the way the rising sun slanted against her skin, and the way her full lips closed around the remaining sections of the orange, and the way the sweet smell lingered on her fingers. Constant touches, glances, and kisses were exchanged until the food was nearly forgotten entirely. But he didn’t let things go that far—he wanted Faith to enjoy the small feast they had been provided.

With a meal spread before her, she seemed to forget for a few minutes the passions that had spurred them to bed, digging into the food with a hunger Wes couldn’t resist watching. This was one thing he doubted would ever change about Faith. There was no halfway with her. Even when they had gone after Angelus together, she had been staunch in her vows not to kill him, Wesley’s attempts to goad her into ready anger only enough to hone her resolve.

More than half of his food remained untouched on his plate when Faith finished off the last chipolata. She glanced at it, a curious smile twisting her mouth. “What happened to being hungry?”

“I think you were the one with the growling stomach. I was merely interest in pleasing you.” He pushed the food aside and moved behind her, pulling her back against his chest. “Are you pleased?”

Faith molded her arm over the one he had around her waist, holding him as surely as he was holding her. “Never been one for Christmas.” When she twisted to look back at him, her eyes glowed from the reflection of the fire, and her hair tickled where it slipped past the robe’s lapels and brushed his bare skin. “But this one is definitely for the books.”

“Good,” Wes murmured, unable to resist kissing her again. He slipped his hand into her robe, gliding his fingers over her breasts, then moving to cup one in his palm. Just holding her that close had aroused him, but exploring her mouth, touching her soft skin, rubbing her nipple until it hardened beneath his palm made him ache.

The sound that came from her throat was half-moan, half-sigh. Her fingers fumbled with the ties on the robe, and as soon as the thick flannel fell free, Faith moved to his, wriggling around without breaking the seals of their mouths. The moment there were no more obstructions between them, she melted against Wesley, and he wondered how he’d managed to wait that long to feel her fire-flushed skin again.

Wes ran his palms over her shoulders and down her back to cup her ass and pull her closer. His shaft slid against her pussy, coating him with slick juices. He was ready to bury himself inside her, but she paused, leaning back to examine him with wide eyes. Wesley knew what she was looking at. The emotional and mental scars of the previous six years might have been smoothed over, but the physical scars were still visible. His throat, the two in his abdomen, and the little white marks that had been courtesy of Faith herself.

“I guess it would be wishful thinking that you’d forgotten about all these, huh?” she murmured.

“Not so much wishful.” He brushed his lips over hers. “All of this happened a long time ago for me. I guess a brand new body wasn’t part of the resurrection spell.”

His words sparked a gleam in her eyes, banishing her hesitance at least momentarily. “Nothin’ wrong with the body you got. There’s a lot right, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” He licked the hollow of her throat then scraped his teeth across her warm skin. “Like what?”

“Like…” Leaning forward, Faith dragged her tongue across his jaw, his stubble audibly rasping. “…how nobody makes not shaving look as sexy as you.” Her breath was hot in his ear, but the heat of her pussy was even more so against his cock as she wound her legs around his hips and forced him to nestle in the soft flesh. “Like how easy I know it would be for me to hold on if you stood up and fucked me against that wall over there.” She slid a hand between their bodies and pressed it flat against his chest. “But the best is this. I can feel it beating, you know. I can feel it everywhere.”

Wesley covered her hand with his, holding it in place. The warmth from her skin seeped through his flesh and spread. It made him ache in a different way. The tone of her voice, the wonder, the hint of astonishment, the pleasure, that he heard only amplified the subtle pain. Holding the back of her neck, he tried to show her how he felt with a kiss, soft and demanding at the same time. She shifted, allowing him to guide his cock into her, pushing until he was fully sheathed.

When their mouths parted, Faith’s soft exhalation came like tiny ripples on a glassy pond. “Merry Christmas,” she breathed.

“And a very happy new year,” Wes murmured. She clenched around him, her nails digging into his shoulders. Each stroke, every touch, was another revelation. She was letting herself be so vulnerable with him. She was letting him in, in more ways than one, and he didn’t even quite know why. He knew why he was there, knew what he wanted, knew what he needed, but he didn’t quite know why she was willing to trust him with so much.

Faith closed her eyes, and her head dropped back, her hair falling down her back. He kissed her jaw, her cheek, and put his hand on her neck, forcing her to lean forward. After kissing each eyelid, he whispered, “Look at me.”

Her eyes fluttered open, reflecting the bright Christmas lights. The strands of multi-colored lights and the fire created a sheen around her, making her skin glow. Wes never looked away from her as his hand drifted down her body and between her thighs. He pressed his thumb against her clit. Her eyes widened, but he was the one who moaned. Every time he applied pressure to her sensitive flesh, she clenched around him, squeezing him until he thought he was going to break.

“Is this what you want?” she said. Without abandoning his touch, Faith began to ride him in longer strokes, taking him in deeper, exposing more of his slick shaft to the cool cabin air when she’d lift away. She never sped up, though, keeping the same languorous rhythm that had typified their whole night together. And she never looked away, adhering to his one instruction without fail. “Tell me you’re happy.”

“I am,” Wesley answered without hesitation. She pulled away completely then lowered herself slowly, making each inch excruciating and wonderful. He gasped for breath, waiting for the wave of pleasure to retreat before he could speak again. “I am. Are you?”

Her response was slower to come. Faith regarded him with eyes black with desire, then leaned forward the next time she took him in to swallow his breath with a kiss. His lungs burned, and his skin felt raw everywhere she rubbed against him, but even after she swept her tongue over his lower lip one last time, Wes continued to hold on to her.

“Don’t know what else to call this,” she confessed. “It’s been so long…”

“It’s been so long since what?” Wes prompted.

The seconds stretched. Faith slowed her pace even more, squeezing around his cock to tighten her passage.

“Since it felt like somebody might actually want me around.” Her sooty lashes ducked. “Instead of just being handy.”

Wesley understood that sort of loneliness. For so many years, he wasn’t even particularly handy to anybody. He had had only a few short years of truly belonging somewhere, and then that was lost to him, too. Even though it seemed like several lifetimes ago, he still remembered how that stung. He didn’t want Faith to experience that ever again. She deserved better for her second chance.

“I do want you around,” Wesley promised, “You’ll always have a place with me.”

He heard her breath hitch, as if his vow had been a physical blow. It faded quickly, to be replaced by a slow smile that lit her from within. “I better make sure you don’t do a Houdini on me then,” she said.

Wesley tilted his head, his lips brushing against her smile. “If I do, you take it up with the Powers.”

“You bet your cute ass I will.”

Then there was no more talking, his faint caress now her hungry kiss. Faith coiled her arms around his neck, closing the remaining distance between them, and gradually quickened her pace, squeezing around his cock with every stroke. Whenever his hands strayed to smooth over her sweaty skin, she quivered, her internal muscles reacting in tandem. It only sparked him to touch her further. Each response was more addictive than the last.

Their caresses, kisses, and touches became increasingly frantic, working into a frenzy of desire. She tightened around him, her fingers firm on his shoulders, her thighs straining as their tempo quickened. What began as a slow burn became something out of control, scorching them both. Her name fell from Wesley’s lips with each breath, a sort of moan, a sort of plea. His fingers found her clit again, and as she surged against his body, he pinched the throbbing flesh one final time. As her orgasm started, he smashed his mouth against hers, catching the shout that ripped from her throat.

Faith shuddered in his arms, clinging almost painfully to his shoulders, but even in the throes of her pleasure, she refused to lessen the rhythms of their flesh. Nails scratched along his scorched skin, and teeth savaged his desperate mouth. It was the whisper of words he wasn’t even sure he’d heard properly, though, that finally drove him over the edge.

“I know,” Wes whispered as their bodies slowed, then stopped. “I know.”

She collapsed against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her, unwilling to allow even an inch to come between them. He rested his lips against the top of her head, his cock twitching slightly every time her muscles fluttered around him. He closed his eyes with a soft sigh and just focused on experiencing her for a moment, and the aftershocks of his orgasm.

When Faith finally spoke, it was the soft tenor of a woman satisfied. “I don’t think anything under that tree is going to top that,” she said.

Wesley smiled. “I don’t think so, either. Let’s find out.”

To be concluded in Chapter Three...
Tags: fic, heaven
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