[Gunnwesley] Fic: Kungai Part Four 10/11 (Wesley/Gunn, NC17)

[helenraven]

Title: Kungai Part Four 10/11

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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Angel worked hard at accepting, at controlling his
feelings for Wesley, keeping himself as busy as he
could with the books and the drawing-pad. But his
subconscious kept letting him down, revealing through
dreams and hallucination and Angelus how many thoughts
about sex and prison and guards were getting stored
away in the course of every day. So he was waking in
need of a shower, and not thinking for a second of
blaming Angelus; he knew immediately that he'd failed,
that he was as far as ever from earning those talks
with Wesley.

They decided to let him shower himself. Gunn chained
him up as usual, then released one arm once he was in
the shower. Wesley stayed out of the way: dealing with
the clothes and towel while Gunn and Angel were in the
bathroom, and then heating blood or doing the dishes
while they were crossing back to Angel's room.

"He's disgusted with me." Gunn was just about to
unlock the chains.

"Course he isn't. He knows exactly what you're going
through. You gotta think - Ain't easy for him, either.
He doesn't wanna... confuse you."

Angel nodded. "I want - everything to be right."

"Yeah. Be good, wouldn't it?"

* * * * *

"What would you think... if I went in to talk to him?
He is trying so hard." Sunday breakfast by the beach,
just after they'd placed their order.

"And you miss talkin' to him."

A very brief shrug. "I'd explain that... he's proved
to me that he has accepted the situation. And that's
the most important thing to me, no one would expect
him to control every single thought. I'll explain that
I don't want to make things more difficult for him and
he should tell me if it is worse. If it would be
easier for him to have me stay away while he's
still... got his crush on me. I think he would tell me
if it was worse. Don't you?"

"Your vampire, Wes. Your call."

Wesley decided that he would go in, using the excuse
of taking Angel some more books. So they stopped at
Barnes and Noble on the way back, and Gunn had another
coffee while Wesley picked out books on seascapes and
on trees. When Wesley offered to stay for a few
minutes longer after he'd given Angel the books, Angel
shook his head and said he knew he hadn't earned it,
he knew what he must have been dreaming. But Wesley
explained, just like he'd planned it to Gunn over
breakfast, and Angel listened and stopped arguing. The
next day Wesley stayed after feeding, with Gunn taking
the beaker away.

When Wesley asked if the visits were difficult for
Angel, Angel always said no; and he never tried to
touch Wesley, never showed a single sign of expecting
anything more. Angel kept on working just as hard at
keeping busy with reading and drawing, and his
sub-conscious continued just the same. Could take
months for this to be really over, as bad as one of
Wesley's dumb crushes. Angel's clothes would be faded
to a pale grey from all the washing.

* * * * *

"Can you give him a shower?" Gunn had just got back
from an evening at Caritas, just walked in the door.
"He woke up about half an hour ago. I told him you
weren't here."

"Yeah, sure." Not a surprise, since Angelus had been
there when he'd left. Wesley couldn't manage the
chains on his own, and felt more strongly even than
Gunn that they would never try to move Angel without
the chains.

Angel had his back to Gunn in the bedroom, during the
walk, and during all the preparation in the shower,
and he must have had the erection from the beginning.
He'd probably been planning this since Wesley had told
him he'd have to wait: how he'd turn, that confident
smile, the hand placed at an angle at the top of his
thigh, perfect framing.

"Oh, for God's sake, Angel!"

"What's wrong? Charles?" Wesley arrived in the doorway
and Angel's erection leapt at the sight of him - or so
Gunn guessed when he followed Wesley's stunned gaze
and saw the difference that those seconds had made;
and it wasn't over. Watching the way that cock jerked
higher, higher, you'd think the body still had a
pulse. How did it feel to Angel, did it feel like
turning hot, like with real, living blood? Like Gunn
was feeling now, the rush to his face, and the
throbbing, the pressure between his legs.

"Oh, Angel. No. After we'd -" Wesley gave a deep sigh.
"You should have asked for a sponge-bath. We have to
take you back. Turn around and let Charles get your
arm."

Angel was shaking his head, still confident. "I
realised. I wanted to show him first. Because I knew
he'd..." He turned to Gunn and reached out, and Gunn
jumped back, well out of range. "All of us. If it's
all of us. You too. So you'd stay together. You'd be
the same. But I could - be with you."

"What, you're -" Gunn swallowed. "You're saying some
kind of threesome?" Angel nodded. "In here?" Gunn
pointed at the three of them in turn, then again - had
to force his hand to stop with the pointing.

"If you want. You can - Wherever you want. Here... I
knew I could show you."

Gunn opened his mouth to say, "Are you fucking crazy?"
but Wesley had already recovered enough to give a
proper answer. "Angel." Inhumanly patient. "That's a
very sweet idea but it could never work. Charles and I
are... a very possessive and exclusive couple."

"I know that." Much less patient. "That's why I - I
wouldn't change anything. I promise. Why are you - You
both know you want me. You'd both have more."

"We - Yes, we sometimes have fantasies about you.
We've always thought you were beautiful. But... I
don't know if you remember how we talked about this a
while ago. That it's one thing to enjoy a fantasy. And
something else altogether to put it into practice. I'm
sorry, Angel, but it could never work."

"I promise."

"You can't make that promise. You don't know. That's
the - Angel. Think. If we tried it even once and it
went wrong... We can't get away from one another. Not
here. I know it's difficult now, but if we made a
mistake like that the situation could become
unbearable."

Angel closed his eyes for a long time, and when he
opened them he looked first at Gunn, and then at
Wesley. "You can't leave here."

"No."

"You're a prisoner. Like me."

Gunn raised his eyebrows, struck by the idea, and was
starting to nod his head (just thinking about it, just
thinking about it), when Wesley said, "No. We accepted
a duty." Angel saw Gunn's reaction; Wesley probably
didn't.

"Did you know it would be me? Are there others?"

"Other prisoners?" Wesley smiled and shook his head.
"You take up all our time."

"And you're kept apart from the other duals?"

"Completely."

Angel nodded several times, then turned to face the
wall and raised his arm behind his back till his hand
touched the chains. "I made a mistake. I have to go
back."

"You understand the mistake now. We can give you time
to get yourself clean. We'll leave you alone for..." A
glance down at Angel's erection. "How long do you
think you'll need?"

A frown. "Can I think about you?"

"You can think about anything you like."

"Then I'll need enough for... what you were like."

Wesley looked at Gunn, fighting hard against a smile
(or possibly against hysterical laughter). "We'll call
that ten minutes, shall we? Charles, could you turn
the water on?"

Wesley snatched up the keys from the bowl by the door
and led the way down to the laundry room, breaking
into a run halfway down the stairs. When the door was
closed he finally let out that hysterical laughter,
and he was helpless with it, slowly sliding down the
wall, hand clutched to his ribcage. Gunn laughed from
the pleasure of watching Wesley, but nowhere near as
hard, and when he dropped to his knees it was from
choice. He reached over and put his hand on Wesley's
waist, and Wesley stopped laughing almost immediately
and then they were kissing, and falling sideways onto
the concrete floor.

Before they went back upstairs they washed as well as
they could at the sink in the corner. Angel would
still probably be able to smell the sex on them, but
it would be too cruel if they didn't even try. They
dusted each other off, but then paused at the door for
a long kiss.

Angel was waiting for them with his face turned to the
wall, arm ready for the chains. He wouldn't look at
them, barely managed a nod when they wished him a good
night - not hiding, Gunn thought, not desperate to
block them out, just had enough and needed to be done.
Wesley and Gunn got a couple of beers and took them
straight to bed.

"Were you thinking about him? Downstairs?"

Wesley pulled a face then quickly shook his head. "Not
really. Much more about you. When I was thinking at
all. Were you?"

Gunn moistened his lips. "Him gettin' hard for you.
Kept seein' it." A deep breath and he closed his eyes
briefly. "Still am."

Wesley shook his head. "It was the situation. For him,
I mean."

Gunn laughed. "Where you been all this month? Not much
of a 'situation' the last fifty times."

A brief shrug of concession, then Wesley frowned, and
worried at his lower lip with his teeth . "I wonder
what it would be like. What he'd actually want."

"Me out of the way, for a start. I'd have to get to
fuck him just to remind him I was there."

"Or you could fuck me. That would work just as well.
As a way to remind him."

Angel seeing Wesley like that. On Angel's own
mattress. Oh, God, but Gunn would show Angel how he
did give Wesley everything he needed. How Wesley was
his, by right. Hot, but hotter still to imagine Angel
loving the sight, loving the sounds. Not wanting
anything more, 'cos there couldn't be anything better
than watching them.

"English. English. You are wicked." Gunn was almost
panting. "You look... so buttoned-up. And then you say
things. You make me imagine."

"Imagine? How could you possibly imagine anything from
something as simple as that?" The smallest possible
smile. "You'll have to explain. Though I suspect I'll
be shocked."

Afterwards Gunn found he was still thinking about
Angel, but different thoughts now - about Angel locked
away alone in his room. Listening to them, probably,
having to listen to them having sex. God, that'd be
hell. Gunn couldn't even imagine it for himself, what
he'd be feeling about the two who'd turned him down,
who wouldn't let him in. And he couldn't start to
imagine it, because he couldn't imagine Wesley not
loving him.

A different evening for Angel from the one he must
have promised himself. The one he must've been sure of
when he acted so confident in the shower. Did he think
they'd be lovers by now, the three of them, that he'd
make it so good they'd none of them want it any other
way? Maybe he even thought they'd be sleeping
together? Yeah, like... Wesley wouldn't want to leave
when he was so comfortable in Angel's arms, and Gunn
would go and get the quilt from their bed, and they'd
all lie together on Angel's mattress, and maybe they'd
fuck some more and eventually they'd sleep. Something
like that. He must've thought something like that.
About how everything would change. That's what Gunn
would have been thinking, if he was Angel - because
sex with Wesley, waking up with Wesley, that felt like
the biggest change in Gunn's life.

But he wasn't Angel, and that meant he knew things
Angel didn't know. The main thing: that Angel couldn't
ever have a lover who'd be close with him like that,
who'd feel safe enough with him to sleep in his bed.
Angel was too dangerous, the damage to his brain made
him too dangerous, and the damage also meant he'd
never understand that he was lost forever, he'd have
to be alone forever. They could never have slept
together. However good it had been, no matter what
they'd all wanted, it would have ended with Gunn and
Wesley getting up, walking out, and locking Angel in.

Maybe that was Gunn again, though, trying to imagine.
Lying with Wesley quiet and happy in his arms and
thinking, "If I couldn't have this... If I was hoping
for this and the truth was I couldn't ever have it..."
Maybe Angel just wanted the sex. Maybe he'd've been
glad when they left, so he didn't have to talk and act
nice, he could just turn over and go to sleep. And
what sign had they seen, really, that the thing Angel
had for Wesley was love? OK so he was in the mood to
want sex now because of Wesley, because Wesley had
shown him he didn't always have to be scared. But it
wasn't any kind of tragic, to be wanting sex you
wouldn't get. Nothin' like tragic, when you were
jerking off as much as Angel. Yeah, he'd get over it.
More than that, he'd forget it had ever happened.

* * * * *

Angel was still subdued the next day. He was back to
watching them and thinking serious thoughts, but not
back as far as the corner; he was prepared to approach
them and to take the beaker from Wesley's hand.

While Angel was drinking, Wesley said, "Angel, I'm not
going to stay and talk. Not today. Not for the next
few days. We know... you haven't been finding it any
easier to control your feelings even though you've
been trying very hard. I think it might be easier for
you if I keep away. It's not because I'm angry with
you or disappointed. I want to make it easier for you
to forget."

Angel nodded without looking at Wesley, acted like
Wesley couldn't expect him to spare any concentration
from the slow, difficult task of drinking.

For the first couple of days after that, Angel looked
like he'd given up, and then he started working again
to distract himself. Some of his dreams seemed to be
about both of them. Difficult to tell since he didn't
use their names, but you could take Angelus as a
guide, and Angelus was definitely getting a lot of his
thrills from the possibilities available with two
people. Seeing Angel getting hard in his dreams - even
seeing it on Angelus - Gunn now immediately imagined
himself fucking Wesley and Angel getting hard like
that from watching. Wesley teased him about this new
kink, made a big show of pretending to wonder about
earlier signs; all while he was getting his trousers
down and urging Gunn on.

* * * * *

On Saturday evening Angel had a vision, and it hit
like it had been accelerating towards him for all of
two months. He cried out in pure surprise, and they
heard the book hit the wall and then drop to the
floor. A longer cry, half-strangled, rising at first
but falling by the time they got into the room - and
that was Angelus. Gunn immediately ran out to get the
chains and gag while Wesley stayed in case Angelus
started to speak. The cries took over a minute to
become openly hungry, recognisable as Angelus, then
they slowly settled to moans of pleasure and the moans
continued throughout the chaining.

Gunn and Wesley started to wonder if he was going to
speak at all, if he'd been driven into a reaction so
primitive it hadn't any use for words. But the moans
finally stopped, and then they learned about the nest
of vampires underground at Veteran and Rochester, how
they'd collected (would collect?) ten blondes, and the
things they'd make the girls do to be the one who got
to survive.

There were four girls in the cell, all snatched in the
last two hours. The two vampires on guard heard Gunn
and Wesley getting into the tunnels and the fight was
hard; could have ended very differently if the
vampires had known even a tenth what Gunn and Wesley
knew about fighting together.

The other vampires (four, the girls thought) were out
looking for more girls. They would definitely come
back to the tunnels, so it would be enough to lie in
wait. Gunn called Rondell, asked for help in getting
the girls to safety and in joining the wait for the
other vamps. They were home by two and Angelus was
still there, still lost in the vision.

Angelus stayed for all of the next day, persisting
through several sleeps. He seemed to enjoy the
restraints when he was asleep, like he did during the
vision as something to bite and stretch against; but
he hated them and fought them when he was awake.

Angel, on the other hand, simply endured them - no
stretching, no fighting, so it was obvious at a glance
on Monday morning that Angelus was finally gone. It
wasn't obvious from looking at the screen that he was
deep in hell, but they heard him flinch when they
opened the door so Wesley went in already making his
soothing noises. Angel was beyond reach, panicked and
terrified like they hadn't seen in months, probably
not all year. Wesley had to order him to drink, and
the drinking hurt him because his mouth was rubbed raw
from the gag. They got out as soon as they could, and
left him to hide.

He was the same the next day, when his mouth had
healed, and the day after. No more wet dreams. Nothing
but nightmares. They seemed to crowd in on him with
every sleep, and they were all so loud.

Gunn and Wesley hadn't been thinking of Angel as
"lucid" in the last weeks - not since the day he'd
thrown Wesley at the window for trying to tell him
that he wasn't in hell. Obviously Angel hadn't been
lucid, he'd still been walled off in some strange
region of his mind. But that region was gone now,
crushed to rubble by a vision. And they'd seen that
before, when he'd been losing his real lucidity, seen
him stripped back to this same state, where he was so
deep in hell it was painful to watch. Didn't seem
important any more to tell themselves how he hadn't
really been lucid; he'd been close enough, in his
terms, and they didn't hold back from using the word
now. Looking back, they could see he'd been building
something for himself, claiming something for himself
in those weeks without a vision - but now it was gone.

So it turned out they could have had sex with him that
night. They could have taken him from the shower and
found out what he was like, what he really wanted. No
matter how badly it might have gone wrong, two days
later and it would all have been wiped out.

Wesley took it hard. Not sleepless and obsessed and
needing to be sent off to San Diego, but sad, almost
mourning. That nearly-lucid Angel had given them some
hard work, a ridiculous number of awkward moments; but
you couldn't begrudge him any of that when you saw him
now. The books frightened him and Wesley took them
away; he threw out the two damaged ones and put the
others in the bookcase near the door, ready for his
next visit to a suitable second-hand bookshop.

* * * * *


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