[Gunnwesley] Fic: Kungai Part Four 1/11 (Wesley/Gunn, NC17)

[helenraven]

Title: Kungai Part Four 1/11

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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Two or three times a day over the weekend, Gunn had
his phone in his hand, about to dial Matt or Rondell.
He was gonna ask what they were doing, if there was
room for one more - and then he'd remember that he
couldn't go out to Caritas, he couldn't join any game
of pickup. Didn't matter how bored he was with his own
company, he had to stay with Angel. And he was halfway
through calling Matt to see if the boys might want to
come over for movies and pizza when he remembered they
didn't know Angel was a vampire. So of course he
couldn't ask them over. Not for their sake, it
wouldn't bother the boys for a second (would it?), but
for Wesley's sake. Wesley would imagine the word
getting out, spreading from the boys to half L.A. -
and then he'd be counting the days till the
vampire-hunters broke down the door. Wesley had never
told the truth to anyone except Gunn. 

Yeah, but there was no reason he had to tell them
about Angel being a vampire. No reason they had to
find out at all. Gunn could turn the screen off, and
if Angelus appeared and started talking, well, the
boys already knew that Angel got violent, that he had
bad mood-swings. But now Gunn was picturing the three
of them standing in the room, looking round and seeing
the screen, the bolts on the door, hearing the
muttering, the growling and he realised he didn't want
them in the apartment after all, he didn't want them
to have to face the raw truth about how he and Wesley
were forced to live. Probably, from what he'd told
them about Angel, the truth wouldn't be any worse than
the things they must have imagined for themselves, but
knowing for sure, that would have to change their
whole attitude towards him. They'd still be friends,
but not in the same way, not as simple, and he didn't
want to lose any of that. So he went to Blockbuster
and he rented some movies just for himself, and he
left the screen on and wondered what he'd have thought
himself a year ago, if he'd somehow come across a room
like this.

Angel didn't seem to notice that Wesley was gone,
acted with Gunn just the same way he acted with
Wesley, like he couldn't even see any difference
between them. The colour of their skin, Wesley's
glasses, Wesley's missing arm - no difference.
Wesley's words of reassurance, Gunn's silence - no
difference. Gunn was surprised at first, kept looking
for some flicker of reaction, some sign that Angel
knew it was a big deal, Gunn being there instead of
Wesley. But then, like Wesley had said, Angel had
spent a century learning what the guards were like in
his hell, must have figured there was never any real
difference between them, they were all monsters. A big
deal to Gunn, Wesley being gone, but nothing at all to
Angel.

"You haven't asked about him." The second time Wesley
had called Gunn: Sunday afternoon and Wesley was about
to settle in for an hour's reading in a quiet
courtyard in the Hotel Del Coronado. He was getting a
kick out of being in the hotel from "Some Like it
Hot", but was also indignant that the film had been
lying when it said the hotel was in Florida.

"I know you'll tell me. If there's anything I need to
know."

"Yeah." But Gunn knew as he said it that he wouldn't
tell Wesley if Angel had been lucid. Wesley might
think he needed to know that but he didn't, and Gunn
wasn't going to let Wesley start all that again. "He's
been just the same." And that was the truth.

Wesley was sounding so much better by Sunday, Gunn
could tell almost from the first word. When Wesley had
called on Saturday morning, just after he'd checked
into his hotel, he'd been tired and distracted, with
vague ideas about what he might do with the rest of
the day, but sounding like he'd have to force himself
to get back in the car again. But he had forced
himself, and he'd done a few museums and got something
out of each of them, and he'd eaten some good seafood
and been to see "Enemy at the Gates", and he'd slept
very well. He'd decided to spend his Sunday staying
close to the ocean and doing very little, and was
thinking about going to the Wild Animal Park in
Escondido, if he could get the proof he needed that it
wasn't like a zoo.

"People friendly? You get much of the 'English'
thing?" The closest Gunn thought he could get to
saying: "Haven't you been lonely on your own? Have you
missed me?" He didn't even know if he should say it
himself, that he was missing Wesley, because that
might sound like he wished Wesley hadn't gone.

"I haven't really talked to anyone. I don't get the
English thing these days. I think the arm puts people
off. Which is quite useful at the moment. Do you - Do
you ever have days when you don't want to have to
pretend to be interested in other people?"

Gunn laughed. "Not whole days, no. Had a few tough
hours since I first met you. Y'know, people to deal
with when all I can think of is gettin' you alone
again." Back when he was with his crew, really. The
time they spent having to deal with Angel, that was
different. Much more complicated.

Wesley was smiling. "I wish you were here. But you'd
be bored."

"Well. Yeah. Be tryin' to drag you off to hire
Jetskis, or something. 'n' you don't need that, you
need to do your boring museum, hotel, walking thing."

"I do. I need to put in at least another two days this
year. The British Boredom Council has already served
me the written warning. If I don't make my life
significantly less interesting, I'll be at risk of
deportation."

* * * * *

Wesley arrived home just before nine on Tuesday
morning, much earlier than Gunn had expected. They
kissed at the door and Wesley was half-hard right from
the start, hungry and demanding like he'd been
thinking about this since Irvine. Gunn was nearly as
relieved - and pleased, and excited - as he had been
the first time they'd kissed. Back then he'd wanted to
get Wesley away from the front door, into the bedroom,
to make it real, official. Now he just needed to get
Wesley's cock in his hand, to press himself against
the heat of Wesley's skin. They were noisy and urgent
and clumsy, no co-ordination. Gunn took them down to
the floor and tried to match their paces, but Wesley
had too much of a head-start. No complaints, though.
God, no.

"Gonna send you away every weekend, you come back like
this."

Wesley shook his head. "I nearly came back last night.
I was in a bar and... every other man who came in had
something that reminded me of you. Just enough."

"A gay bar?"

"Just a bar. Marines, I think. If I'd had less to
drink, I'd have checked straight out of the hotel,
been waking you up around three. Instead, I just had
to imagine it. You were remarkably tolerant. In my
imagination. Only made me apologise for five minutes
for not calling to tell you I was on my way."

"Um... Yeah, I don't like surprises. Rather have the
chance to plan. Five minutes sounds about right."

A smile, full of good memories. "I learned my lesson."

Wesley didn't do more than glance at the screen until
he'd unpacked, freshened up, and started a fresh pot
of coffee. Angel was sleeping, on the floor near the
foot of the mattress. "No visions?"

Gunn shook his head. "A fake one yesterday. About
Angelus."

"Fake?"

Gunn shrugged. "Figured they're not messages. Quicker
than sayin' 'a hallucination that looked a lot like a
vision'. He was trying to get out the door. To get out
and stop the thing happening. He still had the burns
when I fed him last night."

"He's been difficult?"

"No. No surprises. Boring few days up here, too.
Really glad you're back."

The training session was tough. It was their second
session with Ain and Storra, and this pair were quite
a lot different when Yan wasn't with them. Not mean or
anything, but you could tell now that they knew each
other very well, and they had their own ideas about
the worst type of opponent that Gunn and Wesley might
have to face. Painful, and not really fair - in every
mission so far they'd managed to keep the advantage of
surprise. But life wasn't fair and it was painful, and
sometimes you would get beat to the ground. And you
could stay there frozen with the shock and
humiliation, or you could work out which limbs still
had a useful range of movement and make yourself get
up to face the next round.

Over the meal the duals said they wanted to try out
Dargo Darkot, another demon bar.

"Yeah, it is close. But we can't go in there, Wes 'n'
me." Dargo Darkot would not admit humans, no matter
how many duals were there to vouch for them.

"No, I know." A slight pause. "Look, we're not trying
to ditch you, but that is where we wanna go tonight."

Wesley said, "But... you still have to get back to the
portal."

A shrug. "We can get a cab. No point in waiting on us.
I was you, I'd go home and get a rubdown before you
stiffen right up."

Was that a dig? Or a couple of digs: about how hard
they'd found the session, and about the two of them
and sex. Or was it just sensible advice?

"We'll pay for your taxi." Wesley was getting his
wallet out.

"No, man. It's just a cab."

They were home by ten thirty. Gunn said, "Y'know,
rubdown sounds pretty good."

"Um. I'll do my best. You'll have to be patient. I
think I'll be falling over onto you more than once."

They decided that Gunn should get his rubdown first;
no point in Wesley going first, if he was then going
to get another set of aches and bruises falling over
onto Gunn.

Wesley just managed not to fall over, by keeping down
very low, and by leaning on Gunn as often and as hard
as he needed. He started with the neck and shoulders
and worked down.

At first Gunn was enjoying the rubdown just as a
rubdown, but then Wesley's hand moved down below his
waist, and suddenly Gunn's skin was turning every
touch into sex. The feelings went to his cock first,
but soon he was pushing his legs further apart,
arching his ass up towards Wesley, nearly groaning
with the need to have Wesley's fingers inside him.
"Put them in me. Dammit, don't bother with - Put them
in me."

Wesley was breathing nearly as hard as Gunn but he
wouldn't do what Gunn was asking, he was insisting
this was still a rubdown. "No. I need to work on your
thighs."

"Wes. Wes. D'you wanna relax me? Or d'you wanna make
me really tense?"

"I want this." Wesley's fingers dug in just above
Gunn's knee and slid slowly upwards until they just
touched the curve of Gunn's ass. "I missed your
thighs. All last night. I wanted this." Down again to
the knee, then kneading and pushing, trying to cover
every inch.

"Just - That's all you missed? In the whole weekend?"

"I always miss your thighs. From the moment you get
dressed."

At that Gunn sighed, and flexed his leg to push
against Wesley's hand. "That's - I miss your stomach.
Always wanna... push my fingers through the gap
between the buttons."

"I like that. You should. More often."

"I will if you... Never mind missing my thighs. Think
about missing my ass. Usually act... like you do."
Then he sighed again as Wesley's hand relaxed its
grip, very suddenly, moved quickly up, then spread
itself wide around the curve of his ass; the thumb was
in the crack, barely parting him but as exciting to
Gunn as if it was already deep inside him.

"I don't - I'm not ready to fuck you yet." But the
hand tilted and the thumb rubbed, and Gunn groaned. "I
want your weight first. The bed was so empty. I need
to be back with you."

"You want your rubdown."

"No, I'm..." A pause. "I wouldn't last two minutes.
But I need those two minutes. To feel... whole."

"Now?"

"Soon. Please. After..." And the hand shifted, and
Gunn gave a long sigh as a finger pressed slowly into
him, eased slightly by the oil from the rubdown, but
only slightly. Yes, it was about sex, obviously it was
about sex, but the feeling of satisfaction, that
seemed quite separate from the surge of heat in his
cock, and stronger. He desperately wanted Wesley to
fuck him, right now. He wanted to have Wesley under
his hands, for minutes... hours... as long as they
could last. He wanted whatever Wesley wanted.

"More?" Gunn wasn't sure what this was doing for
Wesley. Something, yes, but maybe not for the usual
reasons, and maybe Wesley didn't plan yet on giving
him more. No response from Wesley for three seconds,
maybe four, and then Gunn had two fingers inside him,
sliding against one another as they pressed deeper.
Gunn's mouth filled with saliva, hot and sweet, and he
was suddenly aching, aching to be able to hold Wesley.
He turned over onto his side, nearly onto his back,
reached up to support Wesley then lower him onto the
bed. They took some moments then to fit themselves
properly to one another, sort out the tangle of their
legs, and then Gunn rolled on top of Wesley, and it
seemed they both had all they wanted.

Afterwards, then they were back on their side, legs
tangled again, Gunn said, "That was... Didn't that
seem like the first time? Like we'd only just met?"
Except with the lights on. And with Gunn already
knowing how much he loved being fucked.

"I suppose we... After everything I put us through in
the last few weeks. Maybe we'll need weeks to
recover."

Gunn smiled. "Fine by me. Like it when I feel I know
you. 'n' when I know I don't. You recovered most other
ways, though?"

Wesley nodded. "You saved me from... I don't know
what. Going nearly as mad as him. If you weren't
here..." A long, unsteady sigh.

"You'd've worked something out. It'd be different."
Not believing that, except that, yeah, it really would
have been different. That Sunday, probably, when
Angelus had just walked out of the room - Gunn
couldn't see them both surviving that. Maybe Wesley
was thinking the same thing. But Gunn didn't want
Wesley being grateful to him, not like that. Too much
like how Wesley had been grateful to Angel.

Wesley kissed him and it was a grateful kiss, too
light, too short. "So when do you want a break? Where
do you think you'll go?"

Gunn was surprised. "Get stuck in a strange town on my
own? C'n you see it? Got L.A. Got you. Everything I
like's right here. Why'd I need a break?"

Wesley stared at him, frowning slightly - then
suddenly, with a smile: "You have a talent for being
happy."

Gunn laughed, mostly amused, but maybe just a touch
bitter, thinking of Alonna, the hard words between
them in her last days. "I dunno, Wes. You've only seen
me when I'm with you. You need that? Time away on your
own?"

Another frown. "San Diego was... time away from him.
Not from you. I would have preferred you there. If it
was possible. I don't need time on my own as long as
I'm getting enough time to read. And you've always
given me that."

"But you don't get bored on your own. You figure out
ways to enjoy it."

Wesley shrugged. "That's from a lifetime of practice.
And it is useful for thinking. Being stuck in a
strange town. It's useful for getting new ideas. And
for being able to think them through without
distractions. I spent nearly three hours sitting in
the courtyard at the Hotel Del. Not reading more than
a few pages."

"What were you thinking about?"

"About how much my views on demons have changed since
you came to join us. Since you found Caritas and met
Grouw and Piriti - and you saw the possibilities and
made me see them too. Before that... Well, you saw the
list I did for Grouw and Piriti of all the demons I'd
met, the circumstances in which I met those demons. I
used to think that 'demon' was synonymous with 'evil'.
And everyone I knew thought that, and every vision
seemed to confirm it. So what do we make of the demons
we've started to meet through Wyndham Gunn? What do we
make of Grouw and Piriti and the duals?" Wesley shook
his head. "I cannot see them as evil. And of course I
have a vested interest in not seeing them as evil,
since I want to go on being able to take their money.
And able to accept their help. But it really does seem
to me that most of them are..." A shrug. "They're
normal. Like the people you'd find in the grocery
store. They're just getting on with their lives. They
don't want to hurt anyone. Or if they do, they hold
back from acting on it. Like people. Like most
people."

"Yeah. Big change for me too. Takin' up nest-buildin'
'n' all. Guess we're like cops been workin' Homicide.
Suddenly got put on Community Relations."

"Exactly! I think the idea must have started when I
was reading that cop novel with Angel. So now I'm
wondering... just how unusual are the demons who
feature in the visions? And I mean I want statistics.
How many demons are there living peacefully in L.A.
compared with the number who are dangerous? And what
makes them dangerous? Were they always like that? Or
do they turn? And what were they doing with themselves
before we were sent after them? Especially if they
were always like that?"

"Huh." Interesting questions, put like that. Gunn had
stopped wondering how many demons there were in L.A.
as soon as he got confident that there were enough to
keep Wyndham Gunn in business. "You think you could
find out? They got an electoral register or
something?"

"I don't know. But I'm going to ask. I want to do a
systematic survey. Collect and analyse the answers."

"Do a survey? They're gonna think you're from the IRS.
Or the INS or worse. You go in handin' out forms,
you'll never be seen again."

"I know. We'll need to take a very careful approach.
Find something... subtle and imaginative."

"'We'?"

" 'I'. I know you're busy already. It's just that I
can't stop worrying at puzzles."

"Was messin' with you, English. 's a good puzzle. I'm
in."

Wesley made a start on the survey the next day,
calling on a range of Wyndham Gunn clients and asking
if they would talk to him to help him plan his
research. Wesley didn't use the word "survey", said he
simply wanted to satisfy his own curiosity, but about
half of the demons he called were openly suspicious,
asked if he was working for the government, maybe
suspecting even worse. Most of the suspicious demons
didn't want to talk to him, but one did agree to a
meeting - which made four meetings arranged, and
Wesley decided that was enough for a first stage.

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