TITLE: Thrall
AUTHOR: Shrift
E-MAIL: darth_shrift@yahoo.com
WEBSITE: http://bifictionalbedlam.slashcity.net/shrift
ARCHIVE: Yes to GunnWesley
SUMMARY: Big damn evil has kung fu grip.
PAIRING: Gunn/Wes
RATING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: The characters are owned by entities &
people like Mutant Enemy, Kuzui, Joss Whedon, David
Greenwalt, and Tim Minear. I make no profit from
their use.
WARNINGS: m/m slash, language
SPOILERS: Through Angel 418 - "Shiny Happy People".
NOTES: I have no shame. In fact, my shame is off
happily giving a blowjob to a man in a skirt. Yes,
here at Chez Shrift we offer nothing but the most
shameless Wesley'N'Gunn4Ever smut there is. Quick and
dirty beta by Nestra.
*****
Thrall
by Shrift
April 2003
"Is he still out there?"
Gunn looked over his shoulder. "Yeah. Angel's
definitely got his brood on."
Wesley joined Gunn on the balcony, looking down to see
Angel's hunched back barely visible in the shadows of
the garden. "He'll come inside eventually."
Gunn snorted. "Maybe when the sunlight sets his hair
on fire."
Wesley smiled a little. "Indeed."
"Lorne still tossing back the booze?" Gunn asked,
bumping Wesley's shoulder.
"Yes, he mentioned something about drinking it by the
pitcher," Wesley said. "After the day we've had, I
can't say as I blame him." Wesley finally looked away
from Angel, staring straight at Gunn with a concerned
expression on his face. Gunn still hadn't gotten used
to Wesley without his glasses. It was like Wesley's
face was naked, his eyes all huge and blue.
"I'm sorry," Wesley said softly.
Gunn blinked at him. "What?"
"This must have been what it was like for you, wasn't
it?" Wesley continued. "When you discovered that I
had taken Connor. It must have seemed so cruel and
senseless."
Gunn winced. He was having a hard enough time dealing
with the present right now. "Oh. That."
"Gunn..." Wesley said, squeezing Gunn's shoulder.
"No offense, Wes," Gunn said, shrugging but careful
not to dislodge Wesley's hand, "but I really don't
wanna talk about my evil ex-girlfriend right now,
okay?"
Wesley still had that damned concerned look on his
face, and Gunn figured it was probably because Wes had
an evil ex, too. Knew what it felt like to love
someone that wasn't good, only Wesley's evil was dead.
Gunn didn't know what their chances were of saving
Fred, but he hoped they were better than Lilah's.
"Fair enough. We'll deal with it tomorrow."
"Sounds like a plan to me," Gunn said.
"It's late," Wesley said. "You should get some rest."
Gunn shook his head. "Nah. Don't wanna go to bed
yet. I'm still pretty wired."
"Well," Wesley said, "we could always go back to my
apartment and watch bad kung fu movies."
And then he and Wes were grinning at each other like
fools, and it was just like old times before all the
really bad juju went down. It felt good. He'd
*missed* this. Missed it like crazy, and even when he
was with Fred there was always this big empty space
where his best friend used to be.
Being with Fred had been good. Better than good. But
Wesley had been his friend first, and that meant
something, too.
They couldn't fix everything that had gone wrong
overnight, but right now, Gunn was willing to pretend.
"Got any beer?" he asked.
Wesley's forehead wrinkled. "I've no bloody idea."
Gunn patted Wesley's back. "'S'all right. We'll pick
some up on the way."
***
"Chow Yun-Fat is the man. C'mon, say it," Gunn said.
Wesley raised his eyebrow impossibly higher and said
very Britishly, "Chow Yun-Fat is the man."
Gunn knew he was pretty damned drunk when he slumped
over and started laughing, his face shoved against
Wesley's arm. Didn't spill his beer, though, so he
wasn't *that* drunk.
Just -- slouching on the couch in Wesley's apartment
watching Chow Yun-Fat kick ass, totally ignoring the
subtitles and making up the story as they went along
-- Gunn couldn't remember the last time they'd done
this.
Hell, the only reason Gunn could remember the last
time he'd had fun was because of Gwen, but if he tried
to remember something before that, he just came up
with a blank. Maybe those breakfasts with Fred,
watching her eat everything on her own plate and then
aiming a fork at his eggs. Before Wesley took Connor
and nearly died, because that tainted everything that
happened after it.
"Apparently, his name is Tequila," Wesley said,
looking down at Gunn. "Are you drooling on my shirt?"
"Detective *Tequila*?" Gunn laughed some more, trying
to sit up. He wrestled with the couch cushion for a
minute and then gave up, slumping back against
Wesley's side. "That just ain't right."
"Admittedly, my Cantonese is a bit rusty --"
Gunn snorted. "Oh, shut up, Mister Smarty Pants."
Wesley smiled and sipped the rest of his beer.
"Actually, I read the subtitles."
"Cheater," Gunn said, then yawned so big his jaw
cracked. "Ouch."
"Tired?"
"Mmm. I think I'm crashing," Gunn said, letting
Wesley take both their bottles. "Don't know if I want
to go to sleep yet, though."
Wesley's voice was soft as he put the empty beer
bottles on the coffee table. "If there's anything I
can do..."
"You're already doing it, Wes," Gunn said, craning his
neck to see Wesley's face. "All right?"
Wesley stared down at him for a moment, this terrible,
gentle look on his face. "All right."
Gunn was used to people changing on him for the worse.
Alonna'd gotten mean after she'd been vamped, and if
Angelus was a vicious son of a bitch, Angel having a
depressed hissy fit wasn't much better. Then Cordy
had gone the way of the evil hell bitch, and now Fred,
too. And he'd thought Wesley had gone evil, but thank
god he'd been wrong.
So, yeah, Gunn was used to it, but that didn't mean he
*liked* it. "Hey, Wes? Promise me something?"
"Anything," Wesley said, and --
Intense. Would be the word. For Wesley right now.
"Promise me you won't turn evil?" Gunn said. And
fuck, he sounded desperate. Because if Wesley went
bad for real, Gunn knew there'd be no coming back from
it this time.
"Gunn," Wesley said, sliding his warm hand behind Gunn
to cup the back of his neck. "I won't turn evil."
Wesley leaned in and pressed their foreheads together.
"I promise."
He didn't want to want this, but that didn't make the
need go away. No end of fucked up that Wesley would
be the one guy in the universe that Gunn could fall
for, could want like that. Wanting Wesley's breath on
his face, hands, mouth, his dick. It had taken him a
while to figure out that he wanted to fuck Wesley, and
once he did, things hadn't been the same. *He* hadn't
acted the same, and sometimes Gunn had caught Wesley
looking at him with this confused, guilty look on his
face. Like he didn't know what to apologize for.
Wesley wanted him, too. He knew that. Knew it long
before Wesley started looking at Fred the way Wes used
to look at him. He'd thought it would be easier to
leave it all unsaid. Usually, it was.
Usually.
"English," Gunn said, and he realized he'd fisted his
hands in Wesley's shirt.
"I promise," Wesley repeated, and closed his eyes.
His eyelashes tickled.
It wasn't really a risk, kissing Wesley. His mouth
was wider than Gunn was used to, tasting a little like
beer and salt and vinegar potato chips. Wider and
harder, Wesley using his lips and teeth and tongue to
fuck Gunn's mouth like no girl ever tried to do.
When Gunn pulled back, Wesley was straddling his lap.
"You think this is what She meant?"
"What?" Wesley said. His mouth was swollen, pupils
dark and wide. Gunn could feel him getting hard
against his belly.
"When She said our love should bring us together,"
Gunn said.
Wesley shook his head, but looked at him like he'd
never looked at Fred, like he wanted to wrap himself
around Gunn's bones and never come back out. It was
hot as hell, and Gunn pulled Wesley closer, mouthing
his neck. Touching his lips to the long, pink scar on
Wesley's throat. They were rubbing off on each other,
Gunn's hands on Wesley's ass, kissing hard and deep
like they'd never get another chance.
Wesley sat back, breathing hard. "I shouldn't take
advantage --"
"Oh, fuck *that*," Gunn said, and whip-turned.
Wesley's back bounced on the couch and Gunn was
between his legs a second later, and he planned on
being there for a good, long while. Wesley'd been
wearing his shirts untucked lately, and Gunn thought
that was just *fantastic*, because he could slide his
hands right on up Wesley's flat belly.
And Wesley wasn't just sitting there thinking of
England. Gunn figured Lilah didn't do repressed,
'cause one of the side benefits of being evil meant
she could let it all hang out. She never would have
wasted her time on the guy Wesley used to be, but he
could see why she might really like the guy who was
growling and dragging Gunn's shirt off with one hand
while he shoved the other down the back of Gunn's
jeans.
It was awkward and hot as they wrestled Wesley's shirt
off, a button clattering to the floor. It was trapped
under Wesley's back, and they just left it there so
they could get back to feeling skin against skin.
Gunn pushed his tongue back into Wesley's mouth, the
kiss open-mouthed and nasty. Wesley scratched his
fingernails down Gunn's spine, and made low, turned-on
noises when Gunn bit his neck. His sweaty skin tasted
like pennies and jasmine.
Wesley tugged on his zipper and just *shoved* at
Gunn's jeans, his boxers going with them. Gunn made a
loud noise when Wesley's hand finally wrapped around
his dick. He hid his face in the sweaty space between
Wesley's shoulder and his neck, breathing heavy while
Wesley jacked him hard. For a couple of minutes, Gunn
just fucked Wesley's callused hand, mouthing the
stubble on Wesley's jaw.
And fuck, it ached so good, but Gunn didn't want to be
the only one to come screaming his thanks to the baby
Jesus. He fumbled at Wesley's fly. Said, "Up," and
Wesley moved so Gunn could get his damned pants down.
Wesley's dick was hard and wet, flushed so dark it
looked purple. Then Wesley pulled him down so he
could fuck Gunn's mouth with his tongue, their dicks
sliding together.
They shoved at each other so hard that the couch
started squeaking, blending in with the sound of
gunfire coming from the TV. It was fast and messy,
kisses desperate and biting, teeth scraping his skin.
Gunn was so hard that he didn't care about any fucking
thing but coming, didn't care that Wesley's hip bone
was digging into his gut and one of their zippers
pinched the skin on one thigh.
Gunn put all his weight on one arm and wrapped his
hand around them both. Wesley's head fell back, his
eyes slitted, mouth open, his hands on Gunn's ass. He
jerked them hard for a minute or two, and then Wesley
wrapped his hand around Gunn's, their fingers sliding
and tangling together. Wes took a deep breath and
froze, and then he was coming on their hands, his heel
digging into the back of Gunn's thigh hard enough to
bruise.
Wesley's pupils were so damned big Gunn thought he
could probably fall into them. Gunn slid his dick
against the crease of Wesley's hip when Wesley dropped
his hand, until Wesley pushed a knuckle against a
place that made Gunn's retinas flash and he was coming
too.
He flopped down on Wesley's chest when his arm started
shaking. He felt wobbly, like he'd been fighting
vamps all day long. His skin prickled as the sweat
started to dry on his back. He pressed his hand over
the scar tissue on Wesley's belly and tried not to
freak out.
"Trust me, we don't want to sleep on this couch,"
Wesley said. His voice was raspy.
Gunn groaned and slid to the side until he was wedged
between the couch's back and its cushions, wrestling
with his jeans. Wes just wiggled out of his pants and
stood up, walking naked across his apartment to the
bedroom. Gunn stared after him for a minute with his
mouth probably hanging open.
The stuff that had been happening lately proved that
not all change was bad even if it seemed that way at
first. Gunn kicked off his jeans and followed,
claiming the left side of Wesley's bed for himself.
He ignored the tube of lipstick on the end table.
Wesley shifted next to him, the mattress dipping.
"Remind me to get someone in to repair the shower
tomorrow."
"Why's the shower need fixing?" Gunn asked, punching
the pillow into shape.
"Faith had a bit of disagreement with the tile,"
Wesley said, and yawned. Gunn buried his face in
Wesley's neck and drifted to sleep with the scent of
jasmine in his nose.
The end.
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