One More Day
The knocking was persistent. Each strike that fell echoed the pounding in his head. He burrowed his head further under the pillow and tried to block it out. The tapping on the door, the pounding of his head... the ticking of his watch, hands slowly counting down the minutes until he would have to leave his apartment and meet Angel for the final battle.
He snorted lightly to himself. Final battle. And they were all supposed to be out living their probably last day. What did he have to live for though? It was all gone. Former loves died. Former friendships crumbled into dust and blown away. Fred was gone. He lived for the fight. Until then there was nothing.
Spend the final day doing whatever he wanted. What he wanted was a drink. Hardly an option though if he were to succeed in tonight's task. Plus Fred would have been disappointed he was sure.
“You drank a great deal of that poison.”
Instead he was sprawled on the bed, laid out on his stomach, head shoved between two pillows, trying to ignore the unceasing pounding of the door and his headache. Drown it out. Tune it out and pretend Fred was there beside him. Soft, delicate hands running along his spine. It never worked. Soft and delicate turned to cold and calculating. Illyria stared back at him.
“I could assume her shape, make her come alive again this once for you.”
He sighed and opened his eyes, the pounding getting worse. Lifting his head from between the pillows, he glared in the general direction of the door, despite the fact he couldn’t see it from the bedroom. He knew his appearance was haggard. Hadn’t bothered to shave, rings under his far too old gray eyes. There was a brief pulse of longing for the innocence he’d possessed way back in the days of Sunnydale. The thought was pushed away almost before it had the chance to register. He didn’t wish to go back there.
The pounding stopped. He breathed a sigh of relief and let his head fall back on to the pillows. Closed his eyes. Maybe now the pounding in his head would stop as well.
"Wes?"
A muffled voice called through the door. He groaned, annoyed, but otherwise didn’t bother to move.
"Yo, Wes. You in there?"
He was tempted to shout 'no' and burrow back under the pillows. You'd think the fact he hadn't opened the door after the first five minutes of knocking would be enough to indicate that 'no, he damn well wasn't at home'.
Of course, there was the question of what Gunn was doing here anyway. He'd thought the man was spending the day with Anne. And it wasn't exactly as if they were great friends anymore. Colleagues perhaps. Working friends. He'd stabbed the man for Christ’s sake. If Gunn had any sense he'd be here to exact some type of revenge.
"Open up, Wes. I know you're there."
He rolled his eyes. Why ask if he'd already known? The pounding started up again. He scowled at nothing before heaving himself to his feet and making his way to the door.
Unbolted and opened it as far as the chain would allow, peering through the small crack at a surprisingly perky looking Gunn. Who held up a hand holding three DVD's for Wes to see. He blinked, staring blankly at the films, unsure what to say. Didn't say anything, didn't move to unlock the chain.
Gunn rolled his eyes and reached his empty hand out to jangle the chain pointedly. Wes turned his gaze from the films to Gunn before taking the hint and closing the door just long enough to unhook the chain. Opened the door wide enough for Gunn to step in. The desire for solitude forgotten, the pounding in his head having seemed to subside, for the moment at least.
Gunn brushed by him into the apartment, gaze flicking around quickly before turning back to look at Wes. Finally seemed to take in his disheveled and admittedly rumpled appearance. The smile on his face faded some.
"Took you long enough to answer. You sleeping?"
“You've been sitting there a long time.”
He swallowed. The headache came back with a vengeance. He turned to head for the kitchen, intent on making something to drink and hopefully finding painkillers. He answered Gunn almost absently.
"Ah, no. I thought you were with Anne?" Questionably as he searched through the cupboards, wanting the attention pushed away from him.
Gunn stepped in to the entrance of the kitchen and watched. Wes could feel the eyes on him and chanced a quick look over his shoulder at the man. Turned quickly back to his search at the badly concealed look of concern on Gunn's face.
He could hear the slight rustle of clothe as Gunn shrugged. "Was. Now I'm here."
He turned back to Gunn again, giving up on the idea of painkillers. "And the question that begs to be asked is 'why?'" Said with a not altogether friendly note to his voice. Perhaps Gunn would get the hint and let him alone.
Gunn was proving to be rather thickheaded and stubborn though. The films were once again raised, drawing Wes' eyes to them, and waved supposedly temptingly. It was Gunn's voice that truly got his attention though, eyes flickering to his face as he spoke almost... timidly. Afraid, perhaps, of Wes' reaction.
"I brought movies. Figured we'd have a DVD night. Or... late afternoon."
He stared. Couldn't begin to speak, floored at the sentiment he hadn't expected to hear coming from anyone directed at him. Especially Gunn.
"This is how you want to spend the rest of your day?" Disbelief evident, an unspoken 'with me?' on the end.
Gunn shrugged. "Yeah." He still looked as though he was expecting a turndown, maybe ridicule. His eyes didn't quite meet Wesley's.
Wes hesitated before giving a ghost of a smile, the only that he felt capable of recently. "Help me to find painkillers and make popcorn and we can start."
It was Gunn's turn to stare. Clearly he hadn't been expecting that reaction. Wes watched him, nearly started to take the words back with an excuse, thinking maybe Gunn didn't really want this. Was only being polite in making the gesture. The look of surprise faded though, replaced by worry.
"You okay, English?" As he took a slight step forward.
"Only a headache." He waved the concern away, not entirely comfortable with it and Gunn nodded. Stepped right in to the kitchen to help with the hunt for painkillers.
"You think you'd have a supply of these on hand, English." Commented absently, trying to keep the mood at least vaguely light for which Wesley was grateful. He didn't need things getting more emotional than they already had been lately.
“This is grief. I'm watching human grief. It's like offal in my mouth.”
Wes didn't answer. Too busy pulling down a bottle of Aspirin. "I've got them."
He ignored the concerned look that remained on Gunn's face as he poured a quick glass of water from the tap and used it to help down four of the little white pills. He didn't need concern. He was fine. Just a headache from too much thinking. He was beginning to welcome the distraction that Gunn's movies would bring despite the slight longing to simply go back to bed. If he went there Illyria would be waiting though. His head pounded. He forced the thought away. Focused on Gunn.
"What movies did you bring?"
"The highest in mind numbing action that has nothing to do with demons, ghosts or vampires." Wesley felt his lips twitch towards a smile in amused appreciation. The expression faded quickly. "Vertical Limit, Triple X and..." A significant pause and Wesley was certain there should have been a drum roll. "Jaws."
He raised an eyebrow. Gunn shrugged, small smile in place and looking rather unrepentant at the selection. Previous tension seemed to drain from the room, at least slightly. Surprising how easy it was to fall back into previous patterns. As if changes had never taken place.
“Define change. The world is as it is.”
"Might not get the chance to watch them all though." Gunn's voice broke through his thoughts. Drowned out any other.
"Then I suggest we watch Jaws first."
"Cool. You put the movie in, I got the popcorn." He shoved the DVD's into Wes' hands before any objection could be made. Not that one would have been anyway. This was simply the way things had always been done.
He took the movies in to the living room, setting Vertical Limit and Triple X on the table so he could put Jaws in the player. Turned the TV on and sat back on the sofa. Thought about Illyria watching Jaws. Shook his, not quite so badly, pounding head and listened to Gunn moving about in the kitchen. A familiar noise from times long past and knew that Gunn still remembered where everything was.
The pounding became less. He relaxed; let the familiar pattern play out. Surprised almost by how easy it was to fall back in to the habit of a long passed ritual. Evidently the bond between them ran deeper than he'd imagined. He'd thought it broken long ago. Far beyond repair. Now he wondered.
He was roused from his thoughts as the sofa dipped next to him and Gunn took a seat alongside him. Popcorn was set on the table in front of them. A beer was pushed into Wesley's waiting hand. He nodded his thanks which Gunn waved off with a simple look and smile. Relaxed back against the sofa, close enough together that his knee brushed Gunn’s. Gunn glanced at him briefly before turning his gaze back to the TV.
"Just like old times." There was a hint of a question at the end. Almost asking Wesley's permission.
Wesley turned his head to look at him. After a moment Gunn looked back, holding Wesley's gaze. Still silence in the air, movie still on pause, as Wesley made his decision. Knew, somehow, that this had been coming since Gunn had waved the DVD's at him.
Smiled and nodded. "Just like old times."
Gunn returned the smile, nodded towards the TV in a wordless reminder for Wes to start the film. Watched it silently for at least ten minutes before Gunn made a comment about dumbass white boys swimming in shark infested waters and decided to route for the obviously smarter shark.
Almost laughter from Wesley's throat instantly closed off. Illyria probably would have claimed dominance over the shark and the dumbass white boys then killed them all.
A gentle hand on his knee and he looked over to see that Gunn had stopped his tirade. Was looking at him in concern once more. He turned his head away again. Lord he was sick of that look.
Didn't see the look of contemplative mischief that passed over Gunn's face. Couldn't do anything as the hand left his leg only to be brought up instantly to his ribs, joined by another, which instantly began mercilessly tickling him.
He yelped in surprise, jerked away from Gunn's far too knowing hands. Gave the other man an astonished look and was only met with a grin as Gunn's fingers attacked again. Skating over Wes' ribs, knowing exactly what would make him break down into hysterics.
Squirming away was useless. Gunn had him trapped against the arm of the sofa, one strong leg hooked around his to keep him from kicking. His heavy weight pushing Wesley further back into the sofa. Still Wes didn't laugh.
Raised his hands to push against Gunn's chest and get him off. Useless as Gunn simply grabbed hold of both his wrists and pinned them helplessly against the back of the sofa. Gave Wesley a vaguely insane grin.
Wesley had to fight the grin that wanted to spread over his own face. A sensation he hadn't felt in what seemed far too long. Such a childish game this was.
“I thought the humans would have long died out by now.”
Illyria's voice again. He pushed it away. Met Gunn's grinning eyes with his own.
Let his eyes widen as Gunn lifted his wrists above his head and held them both in a large hand. Used his free hand to run deft fingers over Wesley's sides. Seemed completely heedless to the fact that Wes squirmed and jerked against him, fighting to get away. Until Wes let out an unexpected bark of laughter. He stilled instantly and stared at Gunn. Gunn smiled softly back at him. His hand came to a rest lightly on Wes' stomach. His other hand still held Wes' wrists pinned.
"Thinking you kinda needed that."
Wes stared for another moment before lowering his gaze. Spoke quietly. "Thank you."
A finger stroked over his stomach, no longer tickling. Comforting. He let his eyes close. Didn't see Illyria and smiled.
Opened his eyes when he felt his wrists released and a single finger trace lightly over the smile. Met Gunn's own softly smiling eyes.
"You don't do that enough anymore." Soft explanation.
"There's a lot of things I don't do enough anymore." Stated in a slightly pained voice. Beginning to think for the first time in too long that maybe he'd like to do some of those things. He had to start somewhere.
A free hand reached out, curling around the back of Gunn's neck, gently pulling the other man closer. Pressed their lips together in a long forgotten but now remembered kiss. Let his eyes close and felt Gunn's lips pressing back. A tongue swept over his lower lip, making him ache for more.
So familiar, so easy to let Gunn's tongue slide in to his mouth, twining with his own. Soft sigh of pleasure as a weapon calloused hand trailed down his throat. Rubbed briefly over where the scar used to be. Made him shiver, wanting more. Squeezed his hand gently against the back of Gunn's neck.
Deep breath as Gunn pulled back slightly, spoke against Wes' lips. "Missed you." Unspoken apology for ever letting them drift so far.
"Yes." Not returning the sentiment but agreeing with it nevertheless. He had missed this. This feeling. This... Not love but good enough. It chased everything else away. Stilled his thoughts and the pounding in his head.
He kissed Gunn again, harder. Felt Gunn respond. Fingers curled against his stomach before trailing down to the hem of his shirt. A hand pulled the material up, untucking it from jeans for skin contact over his stomach that made him shudder.
Slow kisses and slow touching. Ran his hand over Gunn's back and felt the powerful muscles flex under his touch. Wanted more, wanted all of it.
Useless desires, pathetic creatures. He firmly told the voice to shut up. Kissed Gunn harder, sucking his tongue as it thrust in his mouth. Focus on Gunn. On the moment. Remember what he likes, what he wants.
Hands on Gunn's chest pushed him back, down onto the sofa. Wes straddled his hips, hands still spread flat over his chest. Watching as Gunn looked up at him with a heated expression. Leant down to capture his lips, trailed his hands down between them to ruck up Gunn's shirt around his waist and stroke hands over the bare skin.
Reveled in the feel of it. Knew Gunn did as well. Reveled even more in the silence. No voice, no Illyria to haunt him. Just Gunn.
Fingers skated up over Gunn's chest, Gunn's own digging into his hips as Wes found and pinched at a nipple. Rumble of pleasure from Gunn and things seemed to blur.
Panted breaths and heaving bodies. Hands roaming, gripping. Lips and fingers searched out the others sensitive spots. Somewhere along the line clothes were shed and it was skin on skin. Wes still straddled Gunn, grinding down on him.
Sweet stretch as he lowered himself down on Gunn. Brief pause to simply 'feel'. Knew he was going to be feeling this for the rest of the night. Feeling it for days. Hopefully shut Illyria up for long enough to focus on tonight’s task.
His thoughts were pulled back abruptly as Gunn shifted impatiently under him. Raised a concerned hand to brush fingers over Wes' cheek.
"Still with me, Wes?" Softly spoken.
"Yes." Gunn looked about to respond but all thoughts fled as Wes grinded down on him and it was back to heaving bodies and panting breaths.
#
“You loved this. And part of you still does. I can feel it in you.”
He groaned. Pulled himself out of Gunn's light embrace to sit on the edge of the sofa, staring down at his knees. Felt as Gunn sat up behind him, hand resting lightly on his back.
"You okay?" Concerned. About him. For him. He ignored it.
"Why did you come here today?"
Heard Gunn take a deep breath, gathering courage perhaps. He didn't turn to look at him. Kept his eyes focused on his knees. Blocked out Illyria's scathing voice to focus on Gunn's softly hesitant one.
"Angel said to make this a perfect day. Wouldn't be if I hadn't come here."
He turned to Gunn in surprise, twisting around on the couch to face him. Stared at him for a moment before speaking quietly. "I... I don't love you."
Watched as Gunn smiled slightly. "Yeah, I know. Did it matter before when we did this?"
Wesley shook his head slightly. "No."
"Does it matter now?"
"No."
Gunn smiled wider, softer. "We had something, Wes. It wasn't love but it was something."
"You want it back." Not a question. Wes didn't need to see Gunn nod to know the answer. He paused. Illyria stood in his minds eyes. He locked his gaze with Gunn, saw himself reflected there. "I want it too."
They smiled.
“Any word on Wes?”
“Wesley's dead.”
