Afternoon Delight

"Why are we doing this?" Angel asked, not trying very hard to hide the pain in his voice. At least, if he was trying, he was failing miserably.

Gunn just shook his head. "Look, man, you wanna be the one to tell him you wanna go?"

They both looked at Wesley, who was standing in front of the full-length mirror, frowning down at a pair of what Gunn thought were a perfectly serviceable pair of black leather boots. He knew better than to say so, because he'd said so the first four pair Wes had tried on and asked him about. Soon as he'd said it, Wesley had handed the boots back to the clerk with 'these won't do' expression.

Gunn and Angel had already come to the conclusion that Wes was just doing this to torture them. It was working pretty well, but Gunn was reminding himself that the more Wes tortured them, the more they'd torture him back when they got home. He'd already decided on chains and a flogger, though Angel had recently started muttering about taking a cane to him, which Gunn was willing to admit was just as appealing.

"What about these?" Wesley asked, and Gunn and Angel both flinched, reflexively. Then they both looked. And stared. Gunn closed his jaw, then had to close it again as he kept staring.

He was pretty sure they were just boots. Just leather, mostly black, but...

"Damn." He wanted to strip Wes down to nothing but those boots, and lick him all over.

"Yes, I believe these will do," he heard Wes say. All he heard from Angel was a whimper. Gunn held out his credit card as Wesley held his hand out -- well, he'd dug into Angel's pocket and grabbed his wallet and handed over the company card, but it amounted to the same thing.