[Gunnwesley] Out in the Open 2/2

[Katarina Hjärpe]

Headers in the first part of the story.


**********

	One advantage with having one's own key to the shelter was that one could 
get in after curfew without any trouble from Anne. Nevertheless, by the time 
Wesley had opened up she was already standing at the end of the hall with 
her arms crossed. When she saw the state they were in, her arms quickly 
dropped while her eyes widened, and she hurried up to them.

	"What happened? Should I call an ambulance?"

	"You'd better not." Wesley dropped the keys on a table and put his arm 
around Li, whose feet didn't seem too stable. "It looks worse than it is. 
Angel, come on in."

	"Looks worse than it is!?" Anne had stepped up to Angel, clearly prepared 
to help him with bandages, ambulances or a coffin, whichever would be 
needed. Seeing how straight and undisturbed he stood, in spite of the bloody 
wounds, she stopped short and frowned.

	"He's not human," Wesley said, sagging a little. Li was a lot heavier than 
he looked and seemed about to faint. "He'll be fine. But I need some help 
with Li."

	Anne took half a step back at hearing "not human" and instead helped take 
Li off Wesley and lead him towards the office, where the first aid kit was 
located. "Is he safe?" she asked, very low.

	"If he wasn't, I wouldn't have brought him."

	Fortunately, Anne accepted this without any further question, only a 
skeptical glance towards Angel, who managed to pull himself together enough 
to offer a smile. He wasn't talking to himself anymore, but Wesley had a 
feeling that the invisible person hadn't gone far. Still, that was a later 
worry, and Wesley was only grateful to have one less thing to explain to 
Anne.

	"This is a bullet wound."

	"Ah, yes. Yes it is." A more elaborate answer than that was probably 
required, but Wesley couldn't think of one.

	"What the hell is going on?"

	"They saved me."

	Clearly Anne hadn't expected Angel to contribute to the conversation, 
because she spun around like he had pinched her. He sank down on a chair 
under her gaze, and Wesley started to wonder if the phrase "what doesn't 
kill you can only make you stronger" was in fact not true even for vampires. 
Angel looked an awful lot like his wounds were starting to bother him.

	"I was taken prisoner, and they got me out. Unlocked my bracelet." Angel 
looked down at his wrist with a frown, and then raised his head to face 
Wesley. "How did you do that?"

	"Trial and error." Wesley chortled a little. "Would you believe me if I 
said the solution lay in a violin bow?"

	"Saved him, huh?" Anne's voice was surprisingly soft as she gave Li a pat 
on the cheek. "Well, if you tried to play hero it seems like you're paying 
for it now. It doesn't seem too bad, though."

	"It isn't," Li insisted. "I'm f-fine."

	"Sure you are," Anne agreed without any conviction, putting a compress 
against the wound. "At least the bullet seems to have come through clean. 
Hate to have *that* in your body. You should still see a doctor, though."

	"The blood is pure. It didn't hit any organs," Angel said in a low voice.

	Anne stared at him like a few more coins had dropped than she would have 
wanted, and Wesley hurried to intervene.

	"I could take him, if Angel stays. Or we could both stay while you take 
him."

	"I have a better idea," Anne said slowly. "How about you take the demon out 
of here before the kids wake up, and I'll call an ambulance."

	Wesley felt his cheeks heat. First Gunn, now Anne, and that would have been 
hard enough if he'd been certain he was doing the right thing. But he 
couldn't get the screams from inside the fight club out of his head.

	"All right." It was hardly fair to Angel, after everything he'd been 
through, but neither was barging in on Anne like this. She had enough to 
think of already. "I'll borrow the car until tomorrow?"

	"Do that."

**********

	Gunn rapped on the door, harder and harder, and with a rising sensation of 
dread. Anne hadn't said anything about Wesley being hurt, but he might not 
have told her if he was. At long last, the door opened, and Gunn could see 
that Wesley looked tired and wrinkled, but clearly unhurt. The dread was 
immediately replaced with thorough anger.

	"Are you out of your god-damned *head*?"

	"Do come in, Gunn."

	Gunn stormed into the apartment and burst into another row of accusations 
before Wesley had even had time to shut the door. "You took a kid into that 
place! You released a bunch of demons and took a kid into that place!"

	"Yes I did." Wesley's voice was flat.

	Helpless in the face of such a rejection to fight, Gunn let his hands fly 
into the air. "You risked his life. For a *vampire*!"

	"Gunn, I'm quite aware what I did. If you have nothing else to tell me I 
suggest you leave."

	Of all the infuriating little... If it had been anyone else, he'd be having 
to scrape his face off the wall after that remark. But some part of Gunn's 
mind wouldn't let him hit a cripple, not even a pig-headed, self-righteous, 
smart-ass, bastard cripple. "Three people are dead because of what you did. 
Was it worth it?"

	"I don't know. I honestly don't..." Wesley suddenly stopped, and a deep 
frown formed on his forehead. "How many?"

	"Three. At least that's what we think. Only one of them still had all parts 
attached. We didn't exactly count the pieces of the other two, but there 
were two skulls."

	Wesley stared at the wall as if he was doing an equation on it. "There were 
hundreds of people in that fight club. I don't know how many demons there 
were, but certainly dozens. And you say only three people are believed 
killed so far? That doesn't match. Either we only released the first, or 
they were..."

	"You say 'benign', you're a dead man."

	"They can't have been altogether benign," Wesley mused, "or they wouldn't 
have fought in the first place. And there are those three bodies. Still, 
you've taken a weight off my shoulders."

	"Well, I'm glad," Gunn said sarcastically. "So those three people don't 
matter?"

	"Of course they matter." Wesley sat down and drew a long, shaky breath. "It 
wasn't supposed to happen this way. They were people willingly watching 
creatures kill each other – but they might still have been innocents, and I 
should have been able to save them. But when you've been fearing a 
massacre..."

	"What about that kid? You could have gotten him killed." And then, so low 
he didn't know if he hoped Wesley would hear it or miss it: "You could have 
gotten yourself killed."

	"I know." Wesley's voice wasn't much louder than Gunn. "It wasn't bravery. 
I just didn't know what else to do."

	"And all for a vampire."

	"Yes, as you put it, all for a vampire."

	It occurred to Gunn that he didn't know where the vampire in question was, 
and that couldn't possibly be a good thing, even if he really preferred not 
knowing. "So, is he around?"

	"Angel? He's sleeping."

	That wasn't very likely, considering how Gunn had been yelling, but never 
mind that, because – "Angel? His name is Angel?"

	"I didn't name him, Gunn."

	Gunn snorted. "Nah, even you know better than that." There was a brief 
pause. "So, do I get to see him? This 'different' vampire 'with a soul'?"

	"You want to see him?" Wesley's eyes flicked towards the bedroom, and for 
the first time during the conversation his voice quivered. "He's not 
entirely... sane."

	"Never met a vampire who was." They'd been talking all this time with a 
vampire in the next room? That was beyond creepy. "He in here?"

	He slammed the door open, ignoring Wesley's weak protests, and stared at 
the creature half-lying on the bed in there. It was tall and a bit bulky, 
pale of course, but with dark eyes and hair. With the bandages around its 
body and the look of surprise and confusion on its face, it seemed 
surprisingly human. But he wasn't ready to sing Kumbayah just yet.

	"Angel," Wesley said from the doorway, "this is my good friend Gunn."

	"Hi," the creature said, and bizarrely enough added, "Nice to meet you." 
Then its eyes turned to Wesley. "Where's Doyle? He was here just a moment 
ago."

	"Doyle?" Gunn asked. He didn't take his eyes away from the vampire, but 
could see Wes shrugging on the edge of his vision.

	"No." The creature was speaking again. "Doyle's dead. He died for me. He 
loved me and I couldn't love him back."

	It's pain was so deep and so sincere that Gunn took a step back, and he was 
deliberately harsh when he said, "So this is your end of the deal? Some 
fucked-up vampire ranting about a dead faggot?"

	Wesley left his peripheral vision, and he turned around, only to see the 
Englishman disappear into the kitchen. Even the line of his back somehow 
looked hurt. Gunn slumped against the wall. He'd said something wrong, 
something worse even than the harsh words had intended, because Wes would 
never had gone off like that for some little thing. He'd accused the guy of 
*murder* without getting the same reaction. So what was different now? The 
only thought he got was ridiculous, stupid...

	"You're a jerk, you know that?"

	Gunn looked up. The vampire was glaring at him as if *he* was the monster 
here. "Piss off. I just don't like vampires."

	"I don't care what you think of vampires, or half-demons, or anything for 
that matter." It was sitting up now, swinging its feet over the side of the 
bed, but didn't seem about to attack. "You're not *my* friend, and seeing 
how you treat Wesley, I'm glad."

	"It wasn't even aimed at him! It was..." Gunn stopped short and headed out 
into the kitchen. The suspicion was getting too weighty to ignore, and he 
had to find out or he'd never be able to think of anything else.

	Wesley was standing by the stove, getting some water ready for boiling. So 
what now? Gunn wouldn't force anyone to look his way, but this was 
discomforting, and he shoved his hands down his pockets, leaning on the 
doorway.

	"I'm sorry I said those things."

	"Doesn't matter."

	"I think it does. And there's something I gotta know..." Fuck. How did you 
say something like this? "Are you... I mean, have you ever... Do you... like 
guys?"

	The back tightened. "I like many people. Men and women."

	"*That* way?"

	Wesley put the lid on the saucepan and finally looked up. "I don't see why 
this is any of your business, but yes. That way."

	Gunn didn't see why this was any of his business either, but his stomach 
was fluttering all over and he couldn't stop pushing. "But have you... you 
know... done the deed with a guy?"

	"Yes."

	The answer was so low Gunn wasn't sure at first if he'd heard right, but 
Wesley's face said the same thing. A fag. Wesley was a fag – but no, that 
wasn't quite it, because he'd mentioned women as well. So, he was one of 
those bisexuals, and that was a lot harder to believe, because Wesley was 
after all the whitest guy Gunn had ever met, and with that accent and those 
manners, it was pretty easy to think of him as gay. But to think of him 
playing around with both sexes... that was just weird.

	"So... okay, yeah... that's... you know... that's okay."

	What else was there to say? Do you want to fuck me? Even in this strange 
state, he could tell that was the worst thing he could have said. Whatever 
the answer, it would be a disaster. If Wesley said yes, he'd have to back 
off, claim he'd just been asking out of general interest, and that would be 
cruel. On the other hand, if Wesley said no, well, if he said no... Gunn 
would be pretty screwed over, wouldn't he, seeing how his close friend, who 
just happened to be gay, wasn't the least bit attracted to him... while he 
got a hard-on at the mere thought. Jesus Christ.

	"I got to go," he said, backing away towards the door. "I mean, it's not... 
I meant what I said, that it's okay. But I really got to go, because of 
those demons and everything."

	Great. Now Wesley would offer to help. But he didn't, just bent his head 
down over the simmering water and nodded curtly. "Good-bye, then."

	"Right. See you."

	The apartment was small, but it took forever for Gunn to get to the stairs 
and down them. Shit. It was one thing with Wesley, it was even *expected* of 
Wesley, but... He had to get a grip on himself.

**********

	The sound of Angel turning on the television was strangely comforting. 
Wesley had gotten used to the silence and solitude of his home, but it was 
one of the main reasons he spent so much time elsewhere. Now all of a sudden 
these few rooms felt like a good place to live, and he had to sternly remind 
himself that Angel was just staying there until he'd healed up and would 
soon go back to his own apartment.

	"Wesley?" Angel shouted from the living room. "Is Cordelia on television?"

	Wesley put his book down and left the bedroom to see what Angel was talking 
about. He had yet to understand the nature of the vampire's insanity, or if 
it was true insanity at all. Half of the time Angel didn't notice him at 
all, instead ranting at people who weren't there, but the other half not 
only was Wesley real to him, but he was "he who is real" – a point of 
reference.

	It made Wesley feel like he messed with things beyond his comprehension, 
since for all he knew Angel might really have achieved the ability to see 
invisible people, in which case that should probably be thoroughly 
researched. But his reassurances made Angel calmer, and so he obliged. At 
the very least he could say what *was* real, and that had to count for 
something.

	So now he stood behind Angel's chair, watching a daytime serial. Onscreen, 
a doctor was just kissing a young nurse. "I'm afraid not, Angel."

	"Not that one," Angel said, leaning forward. "There was a girl on the 
phone... maybe it wasn't Cordelia, but can you wait and see? The 
conversation wasn't over. They'll probably return to it later."

	Wesley shrugged and sat down. The book he'd been reading had been dull 
anyway, just an attempt to stop himself from thinking. Certainly a daytime 
serial would do the same trick. He watched with detached amusement as the 
doctor sported red glowy eyes, and then...

	*Well, I had to dump him!* the young brunette on the screen told the person 
on the other end of the line. *He was shopping at Wal-Marts!*

	It took a while for Wesley to find his voice. "Good Lord!"

	"So it is her?"

	"Yes. It is indeed." Well, if he could find Angel on a fight club poster, 
why shouldn't he find Cordelia on TV? The world was a strange place, even by 
Watcher standards.

	The doorbell rang, and Wesley tore himself from the screen to open the 
door. Gunn was standing outside, hands in his pockets, chin held high.

	"We took four of them down tonight," he said.

	"Oh." There had to be more to say than that. "That's good. Won't you come 
on in?"

	Gunn stepped inside with long strides. "So, about yesterday..."

	"Mm," Wesley said, trying with this to indicate that they didn't have to 
talk about yesterday if Gunn didn't particularly want to.

	"I didn't mean to... I mean, it's okay, really."

	Wesley was relieved to hear it, but held off comment.

	"I'm kinda... wondering, though."

	The pause following that seemed to last forever.

	"Anything in particular?"

	"Uh, yeah." Gunn turned away, and then apparently changed his mind, facing 
Wesley again. He took his hands out of his pockets and wiped them on his 
pants. "When you're... with a guy... what do you..."

	This was truly quite incredible. Was he supposed to explain the whys and 
hows of homosexual encounters? He was hardly qualified, seeing how long it 
had been since he last had a man. "Gunn, I'd rather not..."

	"I know, I know." Gunn shoved his hands back into his pockets again. "God, 
stupid thing to say. Just... is it the whole package, with kissing and 
touching...?"

	Something clicked in Wesley's mind and caused him not to complain about 
Gunn's improper questions again but rather try to answer them. "Sometimes."

	"And it's not just to get to the sex? I mean, if a guy, like, kissed you, 
would you think he owed you sex?"

	"Of course not," Wesley said firmly. This wasn't the time for wishy-washy 
rambling about circumstances. He put his hand on Gunn's shoulder. "Gunn?"

	Gunn tensed for a split second and then relaxed. "Yeah?"

	Asking first would rather spoil the moment, and Wesley was certain enough 
of his conclusions to dare try without permission. He leaned his face 
upwards and let his mouth touch Gunn's, gently at first so as not to scare 
him. The response he got made him smile involuntarily. This wasn't the 
fumblings of a straight guy trying an experiment. Gunn might be frightened 
and inexperienced, but his kiss was active, searching, tasting.

	From the corner of his eye he could see Angel halting in the doorway. Damn 
that vampire and his silent footsteps. Angel was already drawing back, but 
it was too late, Gunn had noticed Wesley's tension and let go, his face 
freezing when he too noticed Angel.

	"Hello again." It wasn't technically possible for Angel to blush, but he 
was looking clearly uncomfortable. Considering the sexual habits of 
vampires, Wesley strongly suspected it was the bad timing that got to him, 
rather than what he had found. "Didn't mean to disturb you."

	"Whatever." Gunn was heading backwards to the door. "I was leaving anyway. 
Just came to... talk to Wesley."

	He'd found the door and slunk through it almost before he finished 
speaking. Wesley's heart sank as he saw him go, but he had to chuckle at 
Angel's expression.

	"I'm *so* sorry."

	"Oh, he'll be back. I think." The fact that Gunn had returned a first time 
was promising in itself. "Is the show over already?"

	"Yeah," Angel said absentmindedly. "It's no good anyway. I would have 
zapped by it if it wasn't for Cordelia. I couldn't believe it when I saw her 
there."

	"Me neither." Funny, how his old crush had showed up on television only 
minutes before his first kiss with his new one. He chose to see it as a good 
omen.

**********

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