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Thrall

by Shrift

NOTES: Spoilers through Angel 418 - "Shiny Happy People". Quick and dirty beta by Nestra.

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.


"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.


If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Shrift

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