Gunn/Wesley ficlet for flaming_muse
For flaming_muse's birthday. She asked for Gunn/Wesley with the prompt of 'paint'. Here you go, sweetie.
(This is set during Angel S2.)
“I don’t think this is gonna help, man.” Gunn looked around the dingy new office space they’d rented and shook his head. “Paint is not gonna fix this place.”
“It will mean a lot to Cordelia.”
Gunn rolled his eyes. “Right.” He bent down and opened the paint can and flinched at the color. Well, at least their dingy little space would be bright. “Let’s get to work.”
Three hours later they found themselves exhausted and covered yellow paint. But the room was painted per Cordelia’s specifications. Wesley and Gunn looked around the room then at each other. “She’ll hate it,” they both said at once.
Gunn bent over with laughter and Wesley reached out to swipe at Gunn’s head. He stood up and cocked his head to the side, reaching up self-consciously. “What?”
Wesley smiled, his eyes shining, “You have paint on your head.”
“Yeah?” Gunn laughed again. “You’ve got a stripe along your cheek.” He reached up to trace it with his finger and the touch was electric. Wesley swallowed and blinked slowly.
“Guess we should--” his words were cut off by the gentle press of Gunn’s lips to his own. Gunn cupped his jaw with his hand and Wesley shifted closer to him, bringing his own hands to Gunn’s waist.
When Gunn finally broke the kiss to catch his breath Wesley picked up where he’d left off, “head home?” Gunn said nothing, just stroked his thumb along Wesley’s jaw. “Would you mind giving me a ride?” Wesley raised his eyebrows, invitation clear.
Gunn’s answered by leaning in and kissing him again.
(This is set during Angel S2.)
“I don’t think this is gonna help, man.” Gunn looked around the dingy new office space they’d rented and shook his head. “Paint is not gonna fix this place.”
“It will mean a lot to Cordelia.”
Gunn rolled his eyes. “Right.” He bent down and opened the paint can and flinched at the color. Well, at least their dingy little space would be bright. “Let’s get to work.”
Three hours later they found themselves exhausted and covered yellow paint. But the room was painted per Cordelia’s specifications. Wesley and Gunn looked around the room then at each other. “She’ll hate it,” they both said at once.
Gunn bent over with laughter and Wesley reached out to swipe at Gunn’s head. He stood up and cocked his head to the side, reaching up self-consciously. “What?”
Wesley smiled, his eyes shining, “You have paint on your head.”
“Yeah?” Gunn laughed again. “You’ve got a stripe along your cheek.” He reached up to trace it with his finger and the touch was electric. Wesley swallowed and blinked slowly.
“Guess we should--” his words were cut off by the gentle press of Gunn’s lips to his own. Gunn cupped his jaw with his hand and Wesley shifted closer to him, bringing his own hands to Gunn’s waist.
When Gunn finally broke the kiss to catch his breath Wesley picked up where he’d left off, “head home?” Gunn said nothing, just stroked his thumb along Wesley’s jaw. “Would you mind giving me a ride?” Wesley raised his eyebrows, invitation clear.
Gunn’s answered by leaning in and kissing him again.