Title: Night Off
Author Email: email@example.com
Disclaimer: If I owned any of it, Buffy Season 6 would be less
depressing and Wesley would wear a lot less clothing. *Sigh * Joss,
Mutant Enemy, assorted minions and evil corporations own it all and
I'm really not worth suing.
Summary: How the best-laid plans go awry.
Category: Romance? Hmmm... lets go with Romance
Rating: R (m/m slash)
Author's Coments: Improv #39 poolside - cocktail - disco - beach -
pink. Thanks to Merzibelle and Kath for beta reading with special
thanks to Kath for the great observations, comments and corrections.
If for some strange reason you want to post this, just ask. Feedback
is always welcome firstname.lastname@example.org
"I can not believe that we are walking down this alley." Gunn did not
look at his companion as his ax swung in a gently rhythm that matched
Wesley jumped a little ahead and turned so he was walking
backward. "Perhaps you were unaware, Cordelia has visions about
demons, and we fight them. It's really not so complex to decipher.
What's making it so difficult tonight?" His tone was light and
accompanied by a good-natured smile.
"What's so difficult? You did not just have the nerve to ask me that
question." Gunn set a faster pass down the alley, forcing Wesley to
jog to keep up.
Wanting to know what was bothering his partner, Wesley caught up, and
tugged on the other man's arm to make him stop, "What's the problem?"
Gunn turned slowly and deliberately towards Wesley. Taking a step
forward, the two men were face to face. "So, you can't figure out
why I'm not happy? Let me just fill you in. Do you remember what
night this is? And don't you answer `Thursday.' I know they taught
you to read a calendar somewhere in all those damn books."
Wesley was not happy about having his plans for the evening changed
either. He opened his mouth to say just that, putting a hand on
Gunn's chest to push him backward, but suddenly he couldn't help but
feel partially responsible. Unconsciously, he allowed some of that
guilt to slip into his voice, "It was our night off."
In a particularly predatory mood, Gunn latched onto the weakness in
the other man's voice and started backing him into a wall. "Night
off. No Angel, no Cordelia, no vampires, no singing demons, no slimy
demons, no demons period. In fact, as I recall, we spent two days
talking non-stop about our plans for *our night off*." The final
words were punctuated with Gunn's finger poking Wesley in the chest.
If you'll recall, that night involved steak, beer, maybe some video
games, and very specifically, no demons. Any of this sounding
familiar to you?"
Gunn had him dead to rights and Wesley felt himself turning several
shades of pink and red as he stuttered his reply, "Well, yes ah …we
did have, make all those plans, but...well ah, we just couldn't..."
Normally one of Gunn's favorite pastimes was messing with Wesley, but
the stuttering wasn't having it's normal effect of lightening his
mood. Gunn's ax hit the ground, the noise causing Wesley to jump a
little. Before he could react more, large hands landed on the brick
on either side of his face, his nose was only inches from his partner.
"Ohhhh goood, the demon lore didn't squeeze the plan completely out
of your head. Let's do a little instant replay and see where the
plan may have gone wrong. I made the call to Murray's and placed
our order, two porterhouses, one med-rare, the other one dead, baked
potatoes, loaded, and some cheesecake for dessert. We get to
Murray's and he's running about 10 minutes behind on our to-go
order. Not a problem, because we got *all night*."
There was an attempt at interruption, but it was cut off when Gunn's
pushed back a little and pressed a finger up against Wesley's
lips. "Where was I? Oh yeah, it was happy hour and we couldn't get
near the bar. You being resourceful, sweet-talk the cocktail
waitress, who diverted a couple of drinks from their intended table
to tide us over while we waited. `Sex on the Beach,'' Wes; there's a
lot of promise in that drink. Our food comes out and we head to your
Apology and evasion hadn't worked, so Wesley opted for diversion.
Mustering a look he hoped conveyed, "I've been a bad boy," he sucked
Gunn's finger into his mouth and let his fingers start walking up the
other man's chest. The eyes staring back at him let Wesley know
that his sincerity was being doubted. The finger was unceremoniously
pulled out of his mouth and the unwanted fingers unwanted hands
"We had a nice dinner in front of the TV, watching the trials and
tribulations of a lot of beautiful couples sitting poolside trying to
decide who was going to sleep with whom. Now, as much as I'm fond of
your skinny white ass, and as much as you love my very manly black
one…" when Gunn reached this part of his monologue, Wesley glared at
his partner, but Gunn was on a roll. "I know that those speedos and
bikinis were making you just as horny as I was getting. So, being in
the good mood that we were in on *Our Night Off* you and I started
doing some heavy duty strategizing with our lips and hands. So far,
I'm thinking that we are going completely with the plan. Heck, as I
remember correctly, the hand you had inside the front of my pants was
doing an excellent job of convincing me that you had the better
strategy. But then it happens" Wesley sighed heavily and looked
down. "The phone rings … and *you* answered it."
"I'm sorry, it was force of habit."
"Could have been a telemarketer, might not have even made a dent in
the plan, but no it was Cordelia, blatantly ignoring our very
explicit request to not talk to us on *Our Night Off*. But at this
moment, we are both still with the plan. So, with your fucking
beautiful eyes locked on mine, the phone in one hand, *me* in the
other, you decide to have this normal conversation with Cordelia, as
normal as it gets talking about demons and shit. I'm not lookin' at
anything but your eyes, and I'm only thinking about what that hand
was doing. But, I get that this situation is making you hot, talking
to Cordelia like we were just watching a baseball game or something.
And, sweet Jesus, I'm getting off on it because you're getting off on
it. I'm seeing a whole new level of kink in you that I never
"Look, I can see you're mad, but…" Wesley gave an affectionate
squeeze to one of the muscular shoulders in front of him, but an
unappreciative Gunn plucked it off.
"Then you say to Cordelia, 'Sure, we'll take care of it, but I want
to finish the last few bites of my dinner, why don't you repeat that
to Gunn,'" the last part was delivered in what Wesley thought was the
worst imitation of an English accent that he had ever heard.
"Angel wasn't answering his phone, again. As you are well aware, if
we had refused she would have tried to do fight these demons on her
own. There was really no choice."
"You shove that fucking phone in my hand, dive to your knees and
before I have a fucking clue what's going on, you're mouth is where
your hand used to be. Then I'm supposed to be able to say intelligent
words to vision girl who's rambling on about some disco demon
rejects. I could tell by the *evil* look in your eyes and what your
tongue was doing, that you were trying to get me to be all vocal in a
way that is not appropriate to polite phone conversation. It's very
hard for a guy to divide his attention like that, Wes. And damn-it
if she didn't say 'thank you for *volunteering* to take out those
Gunn had finally gone quiet. Wesley waited for the next part.
Despite all the talking Gunn had done up till now, Wesley realized
that the real problem was in what he wasn't saying. Not sure the
best way to approach this, he bit his lower lip. Staring at the top
of Gunn's bent head and not talking about it wasn't solving anything,
so he decided just to ask. "Are you mad because it was our night off?
Or, are you mad because of the." Wesley struggled for a
moment, "the 'sudden lack of interest' on your part while you were on
It was Gunn's turn to stutter. "Listen man…I mean… well, it's not
like any of haven't thought about…well, *you know* with Cordelia -
not that I was planning on doing anything - It's just that…oh,
shit…" He gave up, embarrassed and pushed back from the wall
turning away from Wesley.
Trying to be solicitous, Wesley reached over and started massaging
the spot where shoulder met neck. He could feel some of the tension
fade. "You know, it's no big deal. This happens to everyone once in
a while." The left side of Gunn's body jerked, effectively shrugging
off Wesley's hand. A bit peeved that his consideration was not
welcome, Wesley stepped around so he could see Gunn's face again.
Then he let loose his feelings from earlier in the evening. "Did you
consider that there was someone else in the room while all this was
happening? It wasn't my idea of fun to find a comfortable way to sit
in the truck with trousers that were suddenly two sizes too small.
The look in Gunn's eyes told Wesley he had gone to far. He
immediately regretted it but before he could apologize, Gunn was
pushing past him and picking up his ax, "Yeah Wesley, I forgot all
about what it was like to have manly problems."
Wesley squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head hard. "Gunn, I am
sorry. I did not mean to..."
"Come on, let's get this fucking over with." Gunn cut him off as he
continued down the alley. Wesley pulled at his own hair and looked up
pleading to the heavens for something useful to say because the only
thing running through his mind was, "Idiot! I am such an idiot."
With no divine intervention in the offing, he checked his crossbow
and caught up to his tense partner
Caution said that one should peek in a window or listen at the door
before rushing in to a warehouse potentially filled with dangerous
demons. Wesley noted, as Gunn unceremoniously kicked in the door,
that they apparently were not going to be cautious. It was just as
Cordelia described it. Ritual - check. Half-drugged woman strapped
to altar - check. Three demons dressed in black shirts with
oversized pointed collars, white leisure suits, and skin made up of
iridescent scales that flashed different colors like they were in the
garish lighting of a 70's dance club - check. The fact that they
were about two and a half feet tall and Shirley Temple could have
probably taken them out - not part of the original description.
It was a …blood bath. Well, Wesley thought, more a disgusting green
ichor bath. Wesley and the woman managed to exit the warehouse
relatively clean. Gunn was another story, and as they were assisting
the woman to the truck, Wesley couldn't help noticing that the demon
blood glowed in the dark. They drove the frightened woman home and
the rest of the ride back to Wesley's was in mind-numbing silence.
There was no discussion as they walked up the stairs, and Wesley
fumbled with the keys. There was a complete lack of ceremony as Gunn
dropped his demon-splattered ax on a pile of newspapers by the door.
There was no sense of modesty or propriety as Gunn left a trail of
clothing from the living room to the bathroom, as if he was not even
aware that Wesley hadn't closed the front door yet.
Wesley banged his forehead against the door jam, letting out a big
sigh before he closed the door. He could hear the water running in
the shower and thought it was probably a good idea to let Gunn wind
down. Using some old rags, he cleaned the ax. He didn't think the
clothes were going to be as lucky as the ax, so he balled them up
into a plastic bag for Gunn to decide about later. He moved around
the apartment for a few minutes pausing occasionally to glance in the
direction of the bathroom. The apartment was clean after the
forgotten dishes were put in the sink. Still killing time, he
started straightening the couch cushions. He stopped himself
thinking, "What the hell am I doing?" Kicking off his shoes and
socks, he made his way into the steamy bathroom and put his glasses
on the sink when they invariably fogged up. He pulled aside the
shower curtain a little and saw Gunn standing with the spray pounding
the back of his neck, eyes closed and head hung down.
Still standing outside the shower, Wesley leaned a shoulder against
the tiled wall taking in the sight of his lover. The gentle rise and
fall of the dark chest belayed the power hidden there. Rivulets of
water traced the rounded muscles of arms that Wesley was aching to be
wrapped in. "I'm sorry that I that I messed up our evening. I'm
also sorry for trying to embarrass you on the phone with Cordelia. I
didn't think you would have that kind of reaction." His voice was
louder than he would have liked so that he be heard over the shower.
Gunn took a deep breath and began rubbing his neck. He didn't look
up when he decided to speak a few moments later. "I know it happens,
but it never happened to me," there was still a faint trace of anger
his voice. Shaking his head and sighing, "You know, the only thing
coming out of Cordelia's mouth in my fantasies is `Oh, Gunn' or `Oh,
"I always get torn. Sometimes I see her gagged which is amazingly
satisfying, but it gets in the way of kissing."
Gunn looked up, giving Wesley the first smile he'd seen in several
hours. "You know, English, this kinky side of you is beginning to
make me nervous."
"Well, one must endeavor to maintain a certain sense of mystery when
one has evil eyes." To emphasis his point, he started loosening his
"Evil *Beautiful* eyes." Gunn's smile had turned into a full-blown
"Yes, you did say my eyes were beautiful …at about the same time you
were waxing poetically about my 'skinny white ass.'" Suddenly
Wesley's pants were down around his ankles. He spun around and
presented Gunn with an excellent view of the object of their
conversation. Not content to admire Wesley from afar, he slid an
appreciative hand over his partner.
"In all honesty, I can't take back skinny, but I could add hot and
Looking over his shoulder with his now patented evil eye, Wesley
responded in falsetto, "Oh Gunn! Oh God!" This earned his bottom a
"You know, English, you are talking way too much."
Wesley stood up and turned so that the two men were nose to nose
again. "Make me stop." Gunn looked into Wesley's eyes and was once
again amazed at what that man hid on a daily basis behind two tiny
clear panes of glass. Grabbing fistfuls of shirt, he pulled a very
cooperative Wesley into the shower.
Wesley found himself pinned to a wall for the second time that
night. This time it was Gunn's lips doing the work of holding him in
place. Gunn finally gave up on his clumsy attempts to unbutton the
soaking wet shirt and pulled it apart from the bottom, sending
buttons flying. Then Gunn stopped and looked critically at Wesley's
face. About to lodge a protest over the cessation of activity,
Wesley barely opened his mouth when Gunn's face opened up into a
"Not that you were doing a bad job, in anyone's book, but I think you
could use some pointers in getting a man to make some noises."
The insulted look that passed briefly over Wesley's face just made
Gunn's smile get bigger. Wesley's voice was getting husky as he
caught on, "You mean the ones not appropriate to polite conversation?"
Gunn let a trail of hot little nips and kisses down Wesley's chest
and stomach be his response. "Pointer…tips, ah yes… you can never
have too many…*Ohhhhhhh!*" Wesley's last coherent thought for a
while was, "Thank God, I unplugged the phone."