[Gunnwesley] Fic: Kungai Part One 6/11 (Wesley/Gunn, NC17)

[helenraven]

Title: Kungai Part One 6/11

Author: Helen Raven

Email: helenraven at talk21.com

Pairing: Wesley/Gunn

Summary: The full history of the relationship between
Gunn and Wesley in the Birthdayverse. A novel in six
parts.

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimer: Not mine, not for profit, not even a blip
on the litigation radar.

The Story's Home Page: http://www.kelper.co.uk/kungai


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Gunn turned down a third beer around ten p.m., because
he was driving, and Wesley didn't get another for
himself, but made coffee - and remembered that he'd
bought some flan. He brought out two but then ignored
his own, and Gunn ate the second without bothering to
check with Wesley; he felt that he knew at least that
much about how Wesley's mind worked.

Coming up to midnight, Gunn knew it was time for him
to leave, if he was going to leave. Wesley had done
nothing that could give Gunn any real encouragement,
but also nothing to make him give up, either.
Everything new that Gunn had learned could be taken in
several ways, from the story of Cordy and the terrible
kiss, to Wesley's opinions on the attractiveness of
various film stars (Judy Davis, Susan Sarandon and
Laura Dern - very attractive. Tom Cruise and Patrick
Swayze - rodents foisted on a too-tolerant public).
>From the first time that Wesley gave one of those
opinions, Gunn kept waiting for Wesley to ask who he
found attractive (ready to say "Angela Bassett and
Danny Glover"), but Wesley never asked. But was that a
clue in itself, even his main clue? Maybe Wesley
already thought he was gay, and was leaving him to
bring the subject up in his own time?

Gunn had decided that his own time might as well be
now. Wesley just wasn't going to give him any more
clues. There was no point in waiting. And he had an
idea for how to play it, and he did think - mostly
from the way they'd been able to disagree about films
- that they'd get through OK, even if Wesley had to
turn him down. And Wesley was sitting there, close
enough to touch, with blue shadows across his
collarbones, and the hollow between them gleaming
moist and warm.

"What were you thinking?" Wesley must have been
waiting, just letting him think, for well over a
minute.

Gunn smiled, and shook his head. "Not important. 's
gettin' late, though." He stood up, followed by
Wesley, who walked him slowly to the door, asking
about times and food for their next evening.

At the door, Wesley turned to face Gunn, smiling
fondly and starting to reach out for him. Gunn didn't
smile back, but put one hand on Wesley's arm, near the
shoulder, and the other hand on Wesley's waist.
"Wesley. If I don't do this it's gonna bug me all
week. You told me to imagine, and I have been." And he
drew Wesley close and kissed him, keeping the pressure
light, so light, and keeping his mouth closed.

Gunn felt Wesley's start of reaction at every point
where their bodies touched. Wesley gasped and clutched
at him, and Gunn held Wesley more tightly, and moved
his head so his closed lips could trace the line of
Wesley's open mouth. Just for the few seconds in which
he couldn't stop himself though, because he knew that
Wesley gasping was most-likely just from shock.

Gunn drew back, but he didn't let go his hold on
Wesley's arm or waist. Wesley wasn't trying to pull
away, and he didn't seem to be shocked - but he did
look confused, and yeah, like he thought something bad
was happening and it was gonna get worse. So what was
the bad thing for him? Being kissed by a man? Being
kissed by his friend Charles? Or just something
happening that he hadn't at all expected? When Gunn
saw that look on the face of someone he cared about,
his instinct was to hold tight, offer reassurance
through his body, but that wouldn't be reassuring for
Wesley right now.

"Well, if I was Cordy, I wouldn't want to stop there."

Wesley frowned for a second, and then his expression
started to clear, like he was gathering together the
reasons why the story about himself and Cordy might
explain what Gunn had done. Then his expression
suddenly changed again, became wary. "And if you
weren't Cordelia?"

Slowly, almost a whisper: "Then I really wouldn't want
to stop." He drew Wesley close again, also slowly, so
there wouldn't be any surprise this time, so Wesley
would have all the chance he'd need to pull away. But
Wesley met him with a long groan, and with real need,
not how Gunn had been imagining him at all. Sure he'd
imagined Wesley wanting him, course he had - but
always that he'd play it cool, play it English, there
wouldn't be more than a couple of seconds where he
couldn't help himself. The difference, with the heat
of Wesley pressed against him, with Wesley's mouth
open and hungry under his... The difference showed him
that he hardly knew Wesley at all. He was about to
have sex with a friend he still barely knew. Anything
could happen. It was... not frightening exactly, but
serious and real and with a charge of pure excitement
that Gunn hadn't guessed at when he'd been imagining.

Wesley suddenly drew back, though, after far too short
a time. Had it been ten heartbeats? Twenty? Wesley's
expression was much worse than wary now: it was a
pained disbelief. Gunn reached out for him, acting now
on that instinct to reassure, but Wesley drew back
further. "Is this..." Wesley swallowed, again pulling
further away. "Is this a joke?" Not a challenge or an
accusation, but a real question, asked out of real
doubt.

Yes, this was serious. For both of them. This was
real. "Oh, Wesley." Gunn shook his head hard, over and
over. "I've been wantin' to do this since the first
time I made you laugh. It's anythin' but a joke." Then
he paused and gave a long, shuddering breath. "Unless
you want it to be?"

Wesley made a small sound, deep in his throat, then
almost threw himself at Gunn, and then they were
swaying, staggering, pushing one another off balance
as they struggled to get inside one another's skin. At
first their struggle involved every part of their
bodies that could be made to touch without them
breaking the kiss, but after Gunn backed Wesley
against the door, the struggle became concentrated on
their erections.

When the gasping was on the verge of becoming panting,
Gunn did, somehow, manage to break the kiss. "Wesley.
Wesley. C'n we slow down? God, I - I've spent half the
evenin' thinkin' about gettin' you outta that shirt.
Gettin' to see you properly. Kinda imagined we'd save
it for your bed." But Wesley was shaking his head, and
he was frowning, looking really uncomfortable. Nothing
simple, like he just didn't want to slow down, and
Gunn went with the first guess he found. "Y'don't take
men to bed? Y'like it best like this?" He was curious,
not sure yet if he should be offended.

Another shake of Wesley's head, almost violent. "I
can't - I can't let you see me. You can't see what
happened to my arm. If you still want to go to bed, we
can't put the light on."

Gunn couldn't reply for several seconds, too angry
with himself. No, deeper than angry: disappointed. A
whole week he'd been thinking about Wesley's body, and
he hadn't come close, not for a second, to wondering
how Wesley felt about that body. He'd do better from
now on, he would. "OK." He leaned forward and touched
his lips lightly to Wesley's. "C'n we go now, then? I
still need t'get you outta that shirt."

Wesley looked so relieved it was almost painful to
see. What had he thought Gunn would do? Settle for a
quick hump against the door and then leave? Or just
leave, 'cos it grossed him out having Wesley talk like
that about the arm?

Wesley led the way, turning out the lights in the
living-room before he opened the door. The bedroom was
small, with just enough room for the double bed, chair
and nightstand against one wall, and the wardrobe and
chest-of-drawers against the other. The window was at
the far end, opposite the door, and the curtains were
open, letting in the light from the street. The light
was bright enough that Gunn could see the outline of
the furniture, but too dim for him to read any
expression on Wesley's face.

"Is there anything else you can't let me do?" They
were standing by the side of the bed and Gunn had his
hand at the neck of Wesley's shirt, just barely
touching but he could feel the third button grazing
his palm, and the ledge of the collarbone almost sharp
under his fingertips. "Can I take your shirt off? What
can I do?"

Wesley brought his hand up to cover Gunn's. They had
both calmed down a lot since they had come into the
bedroom. "Yes, of course you can. It's just... Don't
touch... my shoulder. Don't... pull anything rough
across it. Apart from that, you can do anything." He
moved his hand to Gunn's chest and curled his fingers
around the neck of Gunn's T-shirt; Gunn closed his
eyes as Wesley's knuckles pressed against the base of
his throat, hard and warm. "It's more what I can do. I
can't undress you. Not with what you're wearing. I'd
end up half-strangling you. And after that..." An
uneven sigh. "I don't know what I can do." He lifted
his hand away, then let it drop by his side.

"This is the first time for you since...?"

Wesley just nodded, or that was what the movement
looked like in the dim light.

Gently, wanting to reassure: "Then we'll both be
finding out what we can do. Look, why don't I...?" He
let go of Wesley's shirt, took a step back, then
shrugged out of his jacket and then his T-shirt,
letting them both drop to the floor near the foot of
the bed. He was about to move back to Wesley when he
decided that he might as well make things as simple as
he could; and he sat down on the bed to take off his
shoes and socks, and then shucked the rest of his
clothes.

It was exciting, suddenly being naked in front of
Wesley, even if Wesley couldn't see him; he was
reminded, all over again, that they hardly knew each
other. Wesley obviously found it exciting, too: he
stepped forward to pull Gunn into a kiss, already
starting to breathe heavily again. Gunn groaned at the
first touch of Wesley's body against his bare skin,
and groaned again as Wesley's hand left his
shoulder-blade and began to move slowly down his
spine; he couldn't remember another time when he'd
felt like this, aware of every inch of his skin.

Wesley was the one who broke the kiss, though he still
kept a tight hold on Gunn. "I'm still wearing my
shirt."

"Well... I could do somethin' 'bout that if we'd just
let go of each other for five seconds."

"Five seconds?" Wesley made a sound like he was
weighing his options, then let go and took a step
back. "I'll be timing you."

Of course Gunn wasn't going to hurry like that, not
when he'd been looking forward to this all week. If
he'd been able to see Wesley properly he would
probably have taken even longer - whenever he'd
imagined this, he'd given himself long pauses to drink
in each new sight, and to tell Wesley what the sight
was doing to him - but now it was enough to work
steadily downwards, learning Wesley's body simply from
the brush of hair against his knuckles, from Wesley's
shiver as he moved past the edge of the ribcage down
to the smooth, yielding skin of Wesley's stomach. He
pulled the shirt out of the waistband, undid the last
buttons, then carefully lifted it clear of Wesley's
left shoulder so it could fall across Wesley's back,
then finally pulled it off Wesley's right arm.

"Should I hang it up?"

A shake of the head. "No. Leave it with yours."

Gunn reached back without looking and let the shirt
fall, then dropped to his knees and started unlacing
Wesley's shoes.

Wesley made to step back. "You don't have to."

"You set me a deadline, English. And now you're tryin'
to get in my way?"

Wesley laughed. "You made me lose count."

"Get in my way and then blame me. Is that a good
start?"

As soon as Wesley had stepped out of his trousers and
underwear, Gunn pushed them out of the way, then knelt
up, put his hands lightly on the outside of Wesley's
thighs, just below the hips, and then went still,
looking up at Wesley naked in the light from the
street. The room seemed full, suddenly, with the sound
of their breathing.

Gunn couldn't see much, but he could see enough to
wonder why it had taken him so long to want a man like
this one. Those long, fine lines... They knew him.
They spoke to him. They made him feel unsettled and
wanting, and calm and completed, both at once.

And he could also see enough to understand why Wesley
wanted the light off. Even a pinned-up sleeve was
still there as a sleeve, giving your eye a good part
of what it expected to be seeing. But with the shirt
gone there was no distraction, no disguise, and yes it
was a raw shock to see an arm with nothing on the
opposite side, nothing at all.

Wesley must still hate to look in the mirror. Because
six months wasn't long. Not to get used to something
so wrong. Wrong, that was, because it shouldn't have
happened, shouldn't ever happen. Some people would
think it was ugly, wrong that way too. Maybe most
people would think that. But not Gunn. Right now, he
couldn't imagine how he could find anything about
Wesley that wasn't perfect to him.

"I'm too thin. I know." Wesley sounded resigned.

Gunn moved his right hand on Wesley's thigh, stroking
hard with his thumb. "That's kind of what I thought
the first time I saw you. But God, have I got used to
it! Lean. That's what I'd call you."

"Oh." A satisfied sigh. "I like that." Wesley pushed
his hips towards Gunn, probably more from instinct
than asking outright and Gunn didn't need to know
which, because either way he'd still be reacting with
the same rush of hunger. Learning the difference for
when it did matter - that would come in time.

"I guessed." He was leaning forward, pulling Wesley
closer, and then Wesley's cock was inside his mouth,
deep inside his mouth, and Wesley was crying out, and
clutching at his shoulder. Gunn didn't mean to suck
Wesley off, not yet. He just needed to know him, to
learn him, to taste him and hold him and be shaken by
his pulse. Wesley seemed to understand this very
quickly: he became still again, apart from the small
choked sounds he made when Gunn flexed his tongue or
swallowed.

In the first moments Gunn had thought that he could
stay like that for hours, for as long as Wesley would
let him, but within a minute all he could think about
was the state of his own cock, pulsing exactly in time
with Wesley's, it seemed, and desperate, desperate to
be touched. Wesley sighed as Gunn released him and
stood up, and then they were pressed hard together,
gasping into one another's mouths, almost as urgent as
they'd been at the front door.

"Do you...?" Wesley paused for breath. "Do you still
want to go to bed?"

Gunn frowned, struggling to cool his brain enough to
understand the question. Bed? Did he want to go to
bed? He wanted to feel like this forever - nothing
else seemed important. "I don't - What do you want?"

Slowly: "I think we should. It'll make it seem real."

The other half of Gunn's brain suddenly woke itself
up. Not like it'd been drenched with cold water, but
interested, with questions of its own. "It doesn't
seem real? I can still feel the size of you in my
mouth. How's it not seem real?"

"You're still here. You shouldn't - You didn't leave
when I thought you'd have to. And it's too much that
you'd been thinking about this too. It's too much to
believe."

"You mean you'd been thinking about us in bed? Us
going to bed? Just this evenin'? Or all week, or -?"

Wesley was shaking his head. "I wouldn't presume. I
thought you just... That you must be like that with
all your friends. I was just wondering when you'd call
me 'English' again. And wondering who might be lucky
enough to take you to bed."

A pause while Gunn reshaped some of his memories,
especially of the last few hours. "Did you think it
was a man?"

"I thought it could be. I thought you might have
someone in your crew. You seemed..."

Someone in his crew? A man in his crew? Like the crew
would stand for that. But he got a charge out of the
idea of Wesley thinking about it. "So your guess was
as close as mine was about you and Angel." He released
his hold on Wesley's back, and took hold instead of
the arms of Wesley's glasses, starting to lift them
clear. "Are we going to bed, then, English?"

Wesley got in first, slid over to the far side, near
the window, and then sat waiting with his right knee
raised and his hand resting on the knee, looking
almost as formal as he did in his best suit. Gunn slid
in next to him, raised his left knee to the same
angle, and reached over to cover Wesley's hand with
his own and pull Wesley's leg close against his.
Wesley sighed and learned against him, pushing his
face against Gunn's shoulder.

"For a moment there, I thought you were havin' second
thoughts, or somethin'. You looked so serious."

"No! Oh, no. Just trying to work out how to warn you
that... Well, I can't lie on my left side, for
example. That it is going to make a difference."

Gunn took his hand off Wesley's knee, moved it slowly
down Wesley's inner thigh. "But you didn't want us to
stay standing up."

Wesley's hand was on Gunn's thigh now, following a
similar path. "That's for something quick in an alley.
No, not always, but I don't want us to act as if we
won't be seeing each other again. If we'll be doing
this again, if you'll be spending the night, we have
to learn what I can do."

Wesley's breathing had gotten more and more uneven as
their hands had moved steadily lower, and then they
finally took hold of one another, and it was many
minutes before Gunn could really form a thought about
what Wesley had said, let alone put that thought into
words. The angle between hand and cock was awkward,
for both of them, so there were many things that
neither of them could do, but it wasn't about proving
anything to do with technique, it was about paying
attention - noticing, and remembering, and responding.
It was a conversation, and they matched and pleased
one another in here just as well as they did out there
over beer and pizza.

"This isn't really a fair test of what you can do."

"I'm prepared to cheat. Sometimes."

"Wesley. I want to kiss you all over. The backs of
your knees, everything. But if I've got all night to
do that, then right now I wanna lie down with you and
hold you tight as I can and I wanna feel you come. We
can make it better next time but for now I wanna have
that."

Wesley immediately nodded and started disentangling
his arm and then sliding down to lie on his back. Gunn
stretched out on top, fitted his mouth to Wesley's,
then reached down to work his right hand between their
stomachs and wrap it around both cocks.

Wesley came first. Gunn felt the gathering, was ready
for the frozen stillness, the pleading, astonished
moan, the sudden hot pulse against his skin. But he
wasn't quite ready for his own feeling of astonishment
- that he and this man could have nothing in common,
could hardly know each other, and yet decide to do
this together, and become closer in a few minutes than
if they'd been friends for ten years.


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