[Gunnwesley] Fic: Kungai Part Four 5/11 (Wesley/Gunn, NC17)

[helenraven]

Title: Kungai Part Four 5/11

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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When they got up on Wednesday morning they found that
Angel was naked; looked like he'd torn his clothes off
and shoved them under the mattress. He was either
hallucinating or in hell, and either way he was
extremely angry.

They weren't going to try to feed him, but they would
prefer him dressed again, so they decided they'd give
him clean clothes and hope he'd soon put them on. Gunn
dealt with the door then stood guard with the holy
water while Wesley went in with the clothes. Angel was
crouched at the far side of the room but he leapt to
his feet with a growl when Wesley stepped into the
room, kept on growling while Wesley was placing the
clothes on the floor, and then the moment Wesley
started to tell him to get dressed, he launched into
an attack. Wesley was ready and got out cleanly, Gunn
pulled the door closed and slid the bolts; and then
they were listening to Angel burning again. Attacking
the door while he was naked: that was a new definition
of angry.

"He already had burns over half his face. Did you see
any of that?" Gunn shook his head. He'd been watching
the monitor so he'd only seen Angel in greys. "His
hands looked raw and there were deep marks on his
arms. He must have bitten himself too, I suppose when
he was throwing himself against the door. There was
blood on his chin. He looks worse than after the
roughest session we ever had with the nets and the
pikes." Angel had finally had enough of the door and
was snarling and protesting somewhere out of sight.

"Guess he knows Angelus was here last night. Angelus
actin' really hungry over someone new."

Wesley nodded. "He probably thinks that Angelus killed
Holland Manners. Assuming he's still able to get the
scent today. Angelus must have... entertained himself
lavishly after we went to bed, if Angel couldn't bear
to stay in the same clothes."

They talked about their main cases over breakfast, but
Wesley must have been doing some extra thinking in the
background, because a few minutes after they'd sat
down at their desks, he turned to Gunn and said, "I am
going to stop the interns. I'll tell Lilah today. I
don't particularly mind heating blood that he won't
drink. But if I think I know a way to stop him going
through all this, then I am going to take it. It is
getting worse. I don't want to know what he'd do
next."

Manners had, of course, talked to Lilah Morgan about
the night before, and Lilah did a lot of Wesley's work
for him by asking if he thought that Angel would ever
really adjust to having new people in the apartment.
They agreed that the interns would stop immediately.
Lilah seemed touched by the idea of a meal to thank
them all and suggested lunch the following Wednesday.
Newton might not be able to make it; the signs were
that he would be spending most of his time at the
hospital for many weeks to come.

Angel did get dressed during Wednesday, but he also
stayed angry, even after several long intervals of
sleep and an afternoon as Angelus (possibly
hallucinating). The first time he seemed calm was when
he woke late on Thursday morning, and they decided to
test him first with an approach and a few words from
Wesley.

"You must be hungry, Angel. You haven't had anything
for at least two days."

Angel looked at Wesley, wary, frowning, then slowly
shook his head.

"Well, if I bring you half a measure, will you drink
it?"

The same stare. Gunn decided after a few seconds that
Angel wasn't even going to nod, but Wesley had at
least five times his patience with Angel. But then:
"You tell me." Gunn was so surprised he nearly let go
the door-handle: Angel never spoke.

"I - " Wesley took another step into the room, and
Angel didn't draw back. "Do you mean you'll drink it
if I tell you?"

Now Angel just nodded, very slightly.

"Good. Then I'll go and get it right now."

Angel drank slowly, frowning at the blood in the
beaker in the same way that he'd been frowning at
Wesley. Not one of his yearning days, but not back to
normal either. The burns had faded, though; his body,
at least, was predictable.

"It's not what you want?"

Angel looked up, seemed startled by Wesley's question.
After a few seconds: "He wants." Angelus, probably.
And he couldn't be saying Angelus wanted pig's blood.

"I see. But he's not here now. Will you be able to
drink a full measure tomorrow?" Like Angel could
promise anything. What was "tomorrow", in his mind?

"Will you tell me?"

"Yes."

A strange shudder then Angel went back to drinking,
but with his head turned now from Wesley. When he was
finished he sat down against the wall and put the
beaker on the floor without looking at it, and he
didn't look when Wesley bent to get the beaker.

There was blood on the clothes that Angel had shoved
under the mattress, blood dried brown and stiff. The
largest patches were at the neck of the shirt, but
there were drops and smears all down the front, and on
the trousers too. It must have been at least a minute
before Angelus had even noticed that he'd bitten his
tongue. Half the buttons were missing from the shirt,
too, torn out so hard there were holes left in the
cloth. Best to throw the clothes away; they'd never
get the blood out properly, and Angel would probably
know it and refuse to wear them. Better find all those
buttons, too, not leave Angel anything to make him
think of Angelus.

Angel seemed calm enough that they'd be able to shower
him, so Wesley changed into his Speedos and his robe.
Gunn waited in the doorway with the chains slung over
one shoulder while Wesley went in to talk to Angel.

"Angel, it's time you had a shower. You need to get
properly clean."

Again that shudder. Angel looked up at Wesley,
suspicious and uncertain, then suddenly turned away,
hunched to the wall. Had he finally got angry with
Wesley for making him drink the pig's blood?

"Come on, Angel. No one enjoys this but you know
you'll feel better once you're clean." Angel was
slowly shaking his head. "Angel. We'll make it as
quick as we can. Come on. Start getting ready. Take
that shirt off now."

Angel did get to his feet, but then edged away along
the wall. Gunn took a step forward, expecting Wesley
to follow Angel, but Wesley hadn't moved.

"You know I'm not going to force you., but I'm just
asking you to undo a few buttons. Or do you still have
those burns on your arms? Are they hurting you?"

Angel half-turned his head towards Wesley, then turned
back and lifted his right arm. He stared at the palm,
held up by his face, then down at the forearm, then
across at the shoulder. Suddenly: "You're trying to -"
Angel had whirled around to face Wesley - fast and
urgent, but still keeping his distance.

"I'm trying to get you clean. I'd like to do it before
you fall asleep again. But I am prepared to wait until
you realise that you need it. You should know I won't
force you."

Angel looked as suspicious as ever, frowned and shook
his head sharply; but then he started to undress and
he was almost casual about it.

Gunn dealt with the button problem while Wesley and
Angel were in the shower. No time to go searching (no
point, either), good enough just to take the vacuum
over the floor. Five or six times the vacuum met
something large enough to give a rattling sound, and
three of those had to be the missing buttons. The
others were probably gravel that he and Wesley had
tracked in on their shoes.

Angel was still casual, standing there quite
patiently, watching while Wesley finished drying
himself and then while Gunn helped Wesley back into
the robe. Wesley didn't even have to tell Angel to lie
face-down on the mattress: he went straight over and
knelt down. Not so casual, maybe, the way he turned
his head to keep Wesley and the holy water in sight
while Gunn was unlocking his wrists, but there was
nothing to tell from his expression.

"Your clean clothes are right here. You do feel better
now, don't you?"

A slow nod then Angel opened his mouth and then
something happened and they lost him. A frown, another
of those shudders, and then he was kneeling up and
sorting through his new set of clothes and most
definitely ignoring them.

By the next Wednesday, when Wesley took Lilah and the
three interns out to lunch, Angel's appetite for pig's
blood had returned to normal, and Angelus had stopped
disturbing their sleep. The five of them talked about
the survey (around 80% complete, Wesley thought, from
his current guess of how many more demons would be
willing to talk to him), and they talked about the
news, about travel, about museums and San Diego. Gunn
was glad he'd decided not to go; outside work or
training, he hadn't met a single person yet who knew
what to make of him and Wesley together. Angel had
probably come closest, mostly by seeming not to care.

Now that the survey was winding down, Wesley got to
start on his new demon languages, and Gunn got to
catch up on some serious time-wasting with Matt, Grouw
and Piriti. He'd tried to drop in to Caritas most
Thursdays, even if he could only stay for half an
hour, but it had been far too long since he'd been
able to join in one of the nest-building sessions at
the weekends. He hadn't seen Anne in months either,
since before they'd moved apartments.

The boys had told him at Caritas that they'd be
working on the nest for most of Saturday. Gunn and
Wesley went training early on Saturday morning, then
Gunn met Anne for breakfast, and then he went over to
the nest. Anne had heard from the crew that Gunn was
doing fine, but she hadn't heard about the move, and
she wanted to know about Angel. The boys wanted to
know about the survey, about the training with the
duals, about the latest cases and missions. Gunn
wouldn't tell them anything about cases, but he did
tell them about the pyramid scheme and the raid on the
theatre - and then they wanted to know about the crew.

Around five Gunn and the boys started talking about
their plans for the evening, not that there was a huge
amount to say about going back to the beach-house to
watch TV, play video games and order pizza. The plans
sounded good to Gunn, but he'd told Wesley that he'd
be back by six so he'd have to call first to check on
Wesley's plans.

Wesley hadn't made any start on cooking and sounded
quite glad to have even more of the day to himself.
While he was talking to Wesley, Gunn saw Piriti's
brother Solito whispering something to Piriti. Piriti
shushed Solito, looking annoyed, and then took a quick
glance at Gunn. OK. Looked to Gunn like he'd just
outed himself by checking in with Wesley like that.

To Grouw, since he didn't want to put Solito on the
spot: "So d'you guys have any bets placed on whether
Wes and me were livin' together? Or's it too obvious
for that?"

Grouw looked around at the others, then nodded. "Yeah,
got pretty obvious."

Matt said, "I'd'a won the bet if we'd had one. I told
them, from the way you two argued."

Gunn laughed then turned serious. "How many people's
it obvious to? Wes's always been worried it'd hurt our
business."

Matt, Piriti and Grouw shrugged. Solito was just
staring at Gunn, eyes bulging so he looked more like a
gecko than ever. Grouw said, "People talk like they
assume, if they talk at all. Nothing to worry about.
Not like it's the weirdest thing about you, not even
close."

They set off for the beach-house soon after, and Gunn
took the two Chachaspe demons in his truck. Solito had
come out of the staring and eye-bulging and sat
quietly while Gunn and Piriti talked. But about
halfway there he said something to Piriti in their own
language - it sounded like a question - and then they
were into a serious argument. After a couple of miles
Piriti seemed to give up; he gave a deep sigh, turned
to Gunn and said, "He wants to ask you what it means
about you and what you want about having a brood. You
being with Wesley. Are you with him because you don't
want one? Or what will you do when you have to have
one? Tell him it's absolutely none of his business."
And then something extra to Solito, in the same tone
but more so.

Gunn laughed, and kept his eyes on the road as he
said, "No, it isn't any of his business, but it
doesn't mean anything about me and whether or not I
want a family. Never even thought about it."

"Your elders... How did you tell them?" Finally,
Solito himself.

"My - My parents have been gone for a long time.
There's no one left for me to tell."

"Oh!" A long sigh of realisation - from both brothers,
Gunn thought, and he checked their expressions and it
did look like both. "Thank you, Mister Gunn. Please
excuse me for asking such a thing."

"No problem." Gunn reckoned he'd got off lightly in
the way of questions from a sheltered kid who didn't
understand the  first thing about humans and sex.

Matt was in the mood for a jetski game and dug out his
Nintendo64. He showed them round the courses
explaining some of the tricks, and then they worked
out a competition that meant they all raced each
course in turn. They tried out all the different
modes, mastered at least one stunt-move each, failed
narrowly to break into the last level (which meant
that Matt had still never seen the Glacier Coast
course, and that was bugging them all now). Gunn left
around eleven, with next Saturday as a firm date.

Wesley was stretched out on the couch with a book and
a beer. He wanted a kiss, and then he wanted to hear
about the beach-house. Gunn told him about the outing
first, and Wesley was mildly concerned and then just
amused.

"But we don't argue."

"Feels like that to you, English. You always win."

"So we do? When?"

Gunn shrugged and smiled. "Last I can think is when
you went in and unchained Angel on your own. 'bout the
only time I've been pissed at you. Matt's full of
crap, even if he did get it first."

Wesley nodded, returning Gunn's smiled, then quirked
his eyebrows and said, "Guess what Angel did today,
when I went in to feed him?"

"Hmm. Asked for a green salad instead? Glass of wine?"

"Nearly as good. He thanked me."

"That's... Well, that's good." Gunn frowned, not sure
if he should ask his question. "Was he... Where was
he?" Really: was he lucid? Are we going to go through
that again?

"Oh, he was in hell. He was scared of me but - I don't
think he said it to try to appease me. It was more as
if..." Suddenly, as if he'd just worked it out:
"Actually, it was as if he was trying to test me. But
when I told him he was welcome he looked horrified and
promptly ran away, so I got zero on that test."

Gunn turned to look at the screen, then shook his head
and sighed. "If there's a Mad Vamp Olympics and
they've got a Hiding Event... He's got the gold, just
on style."

Wesley laughed, then also sighed. "He's had a bad day
since then. Some very disturbed dreams, violent
hallucinations. For the last hour he's been deep in
hell and flinching at every sound."

"Oh? Damn." Gunn put his hand on Wesley's stomach,
fingers rubbing over the two lowest buttons. "What I
been plannin'... Like it best when you get loud."

"Some large percentage of fucked?"

Gunn nodded, then groaned long and low when Wesley
reached up to take hold of the neck of his T-shirt and
pull him down into a kiss. Signs were, they were both
going to get loud.

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