9
June 2001
Fandom: Angel
Rating: NC-17
Takes place
sometime after Watchtower
Pairing: Wesley/Gunn
Feedback is good
for my fragile self-esteem. janestclair15@hotmail.com
Summary: Insight.
Disclaimer: Joss'
boys. Warner's stuff. Fox's thang. Jane's story. Still. And you know, I'd
never have thought to put Cordelia in harem-girl clothes, so clearly they
belong in Joss' hands, and it's good that I'm just borrowing.
Sex disclaimer:
Never ever have I ever done it with the doorman in the broom closet, while
people in suits stuggled to open the doors themselves and he chewed gently
on my throat as I stroked the high mandarin collar of his uniform.
Notes:
I wrote this to
entertain Te some time back, and I thought I might as well share.
Glass
(a Restaurant
Dogs moment)
by Jane St Clair
They sleep spooned
together. Gunn behind Wes, usually, but every so often they shift in their
sleep. Gunn wakes in the early, colourless morning with Wesley curled in
against his back and one skinny arm around his waist. Tiny crackles of
power whenever Wesley's fingertips scale over his nipples or his heart.
He's used to it
now, in that way where it's still beautiful every time. Still good.
It crawls down towards his cock just slowly, long morning trip
where he wakes up and wants, but doesn't get. Not right away. Teasing.
Wesley's hand closes
around his cock, slick-dry and warm, before Gunn's convinced the man's
awake. Just soft fondling, and he wonders about Wesley's dreams at times
like this.
He's seen fragments
of them. Of that childhood. Like something from a bizarre movie. Everything
so Victorian and glossed. Dark wood and old books and Wesley huge eyed
and watching, reaching out sometimes towards artifacts with too
much power in them. Boy in perfect wool pants and very white, slightly
translucent shirt. Baby fingers reaching towards the orb on the highest
shelf.
It took him a long
time to realize that what he was seeing were just the edges of Wesley's
dreams. Too much detail for how little he was getting. The full visions
that Wes' brain supplies aren't even something he can imagine.
He remembers Wes'
first time. Some kind of a distant cousin. Older but not old.
His study in the topmost part of the house, lofted and running along the
whole length of what must have been a row of houses before the family bought
it up. Dark and not welcoming, but better than the places Wes has nightmares
about. And the cousin wasn't so old, or so bad. Translucent as Wesley is,
and his study smelled like dried plants and warm paper.
On the small velvet
couch, Wes on his back and the cousin laying on his side next to him, tracing
a hand over Wesley's bare stomach. Long wizard fingers sliding between
his legs and around his cock. Long, slender body on top of his. Lying close
together and kissing and rubbing each other off. The whole house crackling
around them.
Close and warm and
dry and the whole world grey and powerful around them.
The cousin sat up,
afterward. Drew patterns on Wesley's chest with a charcoal pencil, touched
both his nipples with rosemary, and blew. And the world opened up.
What Gunn got was
just the edges of that experience. And it's not like anything in his own
life. Way too English, and something else. Something class-based that only
Wesley really understands, and that edge that has to have been the Watchers.
Wesley's hand on
his cock tightens and loosens. It's a rhythm like a body and fuck
it's good. Enough to come just from that. Has to grit his teeth not to.
He feels Wes behind him, biting softly on the thick muscle of his shoulders.
Grinning just a bit. And then Wesley pulls himself up and together and
levers himself to straddle Gunn's body. Still open and partly slick from
last night and his eyes are way too big without his glasses on. But when
he bends and kisses there's that snap of magic between them.
Makes him just grab
those too-narrow hips and slam Wes down on him. Pushing up with
this huge, whole-body thrust that rocks up through the top of Wesley's
head and makes him gasp, and Gunn knows that this is completely separate
from the English world of Wesley's childhood, and they both want it that
way.
He hasn't asked,
yet, why Wesley left. Knows that it's a whole new ugly thing that they'll
have to deal with. And for now he just gives. Fucks up into Wesley's body
hard this morning, making him hiss through his teeth and talk nonsensically
about breakfast and the shape of Gunn's hands and exactly how much he loves
this. Holds Gunn's hand against his belly with one hand, lets his cock
slide over the back of it. Not touching himself yet. He has this narrow-eyed
smile that he pours onto Gunn as he grinds himself down. Little
wet slide of tongue and mouth time after time and
fuck
Gunn twists and
manages to slam Wes down on the bed. On top of him and in him and riding
and Wesley moans. Throws his head back and leaves his throat open
and just fucking begs for some kind of bloodletting or sacrifice and this, this is what he wanted. Gunn's sure of it. The sharp openness
of the whole country and the man on top of him and a world beyond his family's
walls.
Legs out, arms up,
eyes open. Sharp and uncareful and animal. Deep in him. Deep as
Gunn can drive himself. Both of them kissing and Wesley's arms around his
body are at least as fierce as Gunn is himself.
More deliberate
than he looks. He's going to get Wes to come, just from this. Cock between
their bodies and the hard flesh rubbing inside his body. Whispers mine
and come on.
Almost startled
when Wesley growls back.
"Mine."
Wraps both legs
around Gunn's hips and pushes back. Fucking as much as getting fucked,
reminding him exactly how strong this man is. Even physically, 'cause the
legs around him aren't much, but there's long muscles strung against the
bone and it's all wire-tight against him.
Driving
their bodies together, and Wes' eyes are wide open when he comes.
Bright-sharp and
Gunn groans and spills into him. About two seconds before his
body gives and he's down, on top of Wes and being held and kissed and mouthed
all along his scalp. Propped up together with Wes' shoulders against the
headboard and pillows and Gunn's head on his shoulder. Gunn making soft
breath-sounds whenever Wes' fingers dig into the tight spots on his back.
And eventually he
pulls out and lets them stretch. Rubs their legs together. Chews a bit
on Wesley's collarbone and thinks about the day coming.
"Can you get up?"
"You gotta be kidding."
But he rolls off. Stretches in the middle of the bed, big and black and
just watchful against the sheets' whiteness. Very visible even in the half-dark.
And Wes gets up.
Walks carefully to the corner of the room and crouches. Little hunch in
his back that says he's feeling the fuck, still, but he doesn't complain.
Moves a lot of books to get at the trunk beside the window. Light angling
through the blind slats carves long fingers on his back.
And he turns with
something in his hands. So familiar that Gunn doesn't recognize it until
Wes comes back to sit cross-legged at the foot of the bed and holds it
out to him with both hands.
Orb from Wesley's
dreams. Not flat or smooth or anything like a crystal ball. More colours
than a soap bubble and fewer than Los Angeles at night. Dark and rough
and barely circular, but it looks like it's been held a lot. Little indentations
in the sides where his hands fit when Wesley gives it to him.
Though it's not
til it's in both their hands that it flares. And for a second
Gunn gets this vision of the world as brightdarkwetfiercestonewallsteamagicfirechildWesleywatching.
All of it too vivid in his brain, and he wonders if this is all the colours
Wesley dreams in or something more. Like living it, only with more senses.
Los Angeles outside.
Gold and getting brighter and brighter and soon he's not going to be able
to even look at the window. Even the gaps in the blind leave retinal
burns.
Wesley says, "How
do you feel?"
"Damn."
"Do you feel nauseous?
Dizzy?"
"No, just . . ."
"Would you like
to see?"
"Yeah."
"Alright."
Wesley's mouth closes
on his. Kisses him deep and thorough and the pull back is its own gut-wrenching pull. Sits back and watches until Gunn sits up, gets cross-legged
and faces him. Still naked. Sweat on his back.
He lays his hands
on the orb again and gets shreddedorangepeelsilverandpewterdarkplacesunderthestairs
and has just a second to stare into Wesley's face before he falls into
it.
end
jane
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