Glass (a Restaurant Dogs moment)
by Jane St Clair
9 June 2001
Fandom: Angel
Rating: NC-17
Sequel: takes place sometime after "Watchtower"
Pairing: Wesley/Gunn
Feedback: Is good for my fragile self-esteem.
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.


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


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.


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?"


"Do you feel nauseous? Dizzy?"

"No, just..."

"Would you like to see?"


"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 *shreddedorangepeel silverandpewteranddarkplacesunderthestairs* and has just a second to stare into Wesley's face before he falls into it.


Feed Jane. She really needs the attention.


Back to J