Don't Think
Wesley was about as close to absolute panic as he could get with out having to be restrained, which struck him as funny, seeing as he was being restrained.
Gunn was holding his shoulders, keeping him upright as Cordelia rubbed something cold and vaguely slimy into the purple-black bruise staining the right side of his ribcage. He was lucky all his ribs were intact, Angel had been wild when Wesley found him, bent on getting out of the building. Wesley had simply been brushed aside when he'd opened the door to Angel's now-trashed office. Of course, that brush had knocked the wind completely out of him and given him the bruise that covered half his side.
"Alright, now that we know Wesley's gonna live, does somebody wanna tell me what's going on?" Gunn asked. He'd come in while Cordelia was trying to manhandle Wesley into the main office.
Wesley bit down on the edge of a hysterical laugh, even with all his intelligence, Gunn has a gutter punk's voice.
Both of them are waiting, Cordelia noisy about her impatience, Gunn quiet in his, so he answers.
"Somebody, or possibly something, managed to spike Angels blood bags with monkshood, it's a crude toxin, fell out of common use around the 1900's, but it is effective. It suppresses higher brain function, and induces animalistic behavior, so, essentially, Angel is a beast, and not a happy one. He didn't ingest a great lot of it, the effects should wear off in a few hours, but in the mean time we need to find him, we don't want him hurting anyone."
The former Watcher nearly sighed, no matter ho hard he tried, he would never sound like anything but an overly-educated Englishman.
"So how do we get him back?" Gunn was good like that, he didn't care how or why, he just wanted to fix it.
Cordelia had finished with the ointmen and handed Wesley his shirt as she stood and spoke.
"Well we'll just have to find the tranqulizer guns, find him, shoot him, and haul his butt back here. He's got chains in the weapon room that'll hold him until he gets this dog-boy thing out of his system."
Sometimes, Wesley thinks Cordelia could make pulling down the sun sound a ridiculously simple task.
"Hold on, will a tranq even work on a vamp? Gunn asked.
Cordelia shrugged, "It worked when Willow brought her evil, vampire bondage twin back from another dimension."
Gunn opened his mouth, a puzzled look on his face, but Wesley shook his head at him. Sometimes it was better not to ask.
Wesley really hated Angel right now. His side throbbed beneath his shirt, his skin drawn tight and tender. He wanted to be in bed, with a cup of tea and an ice pack, not hunting for his feral vampire boss in a...playground?
The appropriately dark and threatening alleyways he'd been searching had opened into a fenced in playground, a nice one too. Real grass, nice equipment, high fencing that kept most of the city's grime at bay. Wesley pushed open the chain link gate and stepped in, not quite sure why he did, it wasn't like he would find Angel on the monkey bars. He moved towards the middle of the playground, sitting gingerly on the edge of the wooden merry-go-round, giving in to the angry protests of his ribs. Wesley laid his gun down beside him and leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees and breathing deeply until the sharp ache faded to a dull, sulky, throb.
Wesley rubbed his hands over his face and blew out a long breath. He felt ridiculous, tramping around with a gun after a vampire, Angel could hear him coming a mile away and if he didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be. He had his walkie-talkie, he could just buzz Cordelia and Gunn, tell them to pack it in, that Angel would return when the monkshood wore off.
Wesley stood, planning to do just that, but as he pulled out the two-way and flicked the switch on, something heavy and silent struck him, knocking him to his back on the grass. Wesley let out a choked scream, his knees rising reflexively as his ribs shrieked in protest. He couldn't even move his legs though, they were pinned beneath the pale, snarling, extremely naked vampire on top of him.
Wesley wasn't sure he was breathing right now, with Angel's snarling face inches from his own. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Angel's arms, planted on either side of his head. Wesley's mind raced, Angel was here, Angel was pissed, his gun was three feet away on the ground, and his radio had flown out of his hand when Angel hit him. At least he wasn't vamped out, snarling, angry, but not demonic. And also, holy shit, he was naked, completely. And there's a whole lot of silky, pale skin there.
Not quite sure what to do, Wesley spoke,
"Angel, Angel, it's me, Wesley. Calm down.." He tried to make his voice soothing, but that's hard to do when you're pinned under a very angry something that could kill you very quickly if it wanted to.
The growl rose in Angel's throat when Wesley started to speak, but it died out, softening to a low rumble as he continued. Angel's lips lowered, closing over his teeth, though his forehead was still knotted with suspicion.
"There you go, old chap, easy now." Wesley felt more than a little stupid baby-talking a vampire, and rather hoped Angel would remember none of this when the monkshood wore off. But if baby-talk kept Angel from trying to rip his throat out, then he had absolutely no problem doing it.
Now if he could just keep the vampire relaxed until, well, something happened. Either the drug wore off, or Cordelia and Gunn arrived, or Angel got off of him so he could get the damn gun. Unfortunately, Angel didn't seem to be in any big hurry to let him up, the last of his growl had petered out, though his forehead was still wrinkled, he had leaned his head down and was breathing in deep, scenting him, Wesley thought. Wesley relaxed his body, hoping that Angel would realize it was him and get off so he could get to the gun, it was late and his side was still complaining loudly about being thrown to the ground. Angel was still breathing deeply near his neck, which was annoying and would make him nervous if he thought about it too much.
Then he felt something that made him shoved the pain in his side into the far corner of his mind. Oh hell no, there is no way...But Wesley has been gay plenty long enough to know what an erection feels like, besides, Angel is naked, so there's definitely nothing in his pocket. And, okay, Angel's pretty much an animal, Angel is naked, Angel is on top of him, Angel is very obviously hard, and Wesley is very quietly freaking out.
Wesley is also berating the part of his brain that has notice for a while that he works for an incredibly attractive man, the part of his brain that is rather impressed by the size of the erection digging into his hip. Wesley hates his brain, which doesn't seem to realize the importance of not getting hard right now.
Angel, head still lowered around Wesley's cheek, made a low noise, not quite a growl, but not really anything else. Wesley bit his lip and prayed for Cordelia, or Gunn, or the fucking Pope, just somebody to get the naked vampire off him before he either embarrassed himself or got killed. Wesley nearly bit through his lip when Angel moved, grinding slowly against him.
"Angel, no..." Wesley really didn't have the heart to protest further, not when Angel's hips were rolling against his and Wesley could feel rather than hear the rumble in his chest.
Just when Wesley was thinking it wouldn't be that bad to be caught dry humping a vampire in a playground, a loud snap echoed in the night and Angel got out one loud snarl before slumping completely onto Wesley. And ow, Angel was heavier than he looked.
"Wesley! Are you okay?" Wesley had never been so happy to hear Cordelia yelling.
Angel was unconscious, chained up, and everyone was at their respective homes, it had been nearly dawn when they parted, and there had been idle talk of killing Angel, or drawing hearts and flowers all over him in permenant maker while he was still unconscious.
He was in bed, completely exhausted, ribs complaining bitterly and he wasn't thinking about pale silky skin, dark eyes, or velvety growls. Not at all.