Green With Envy

Wesley had his eyes closed, and he was going to keep them that way. He was on the couch, and relaxed for the first time in forever, and he was not going to open his eyes.

"Come on, English!"

Not even for Gunn. Not even if Gunn were doing a strip tease or holding a bottle of brandy. Both of those would lead to activities he could do with his eyes closed, anyhow. Both would also end up with him being even more relaxed.

However, he was pretty sure Gunn was doing neither, from the way he was kicking at the couch and whining.

"We got to go, man! We're gonna be late."

Wesley sighed. "And why, pray tell, should I care?" he finally deigned to answer. Kept his eyes closed.

He felt Gunn sit down on the tiny space left open on the couch, next to Wesley's hip. Felt Gunn's large, warm hand come to rest on his stomach. As if this would get him off the couch any sooner, he thought to himself, wryly amused. "We got to go, Wes. They're counting on us."

The absurdity of that statement got his eyes open. Wesley looked up at Gunn in disbelief. "Counting on us? To do *what*?"

"We got jobs to do," Gunn replied, frowning at him -- but Wesley could tell he was trying to convince himself as much as Wesley.

"Oh, yes, important jobs. I walk in and say 'they're demon of the week' and you heft a large ax. Later we might get a moment to shoot something."

Gunn frowned at him. "You don't think saving the girls' lives is important? Telling 'em who they're after and how to kill it?"

Wesley closed his eyes. "I'm sure 'Fred' can do that as easily as you or I." He knew he sounded as petty and whiny as he felt -- but Fred wasn't in here to overhear him. She was a nice enough girl. He just wished she'd find her own part.

"Wes, that's not fair. You know--"

He opened his eyes again, and pushed himself up onto his elbows. "You know what's not fair? Our having to leave every fifteen minutes to go in there for a total of two minutes' screen time, when we could just stay in here and fuck each other."

Gunn blinked.

Wesley smiled. "It's not like we have to pay for the lube, anyhow."

Gunn looked towards the stage door. "I...guess...Fred could have a photographic memory, and pick up everything you know. And if she could invent cool weapons, she could fight for me." He looked thoughtful, then turned a heated gaze on Wesley. "Hell, show her how to use the computer and Cordy'll be free to go to all those auditions she's been missing, too. Shack up with that files and records chick she met the other night."

Wesley nodded, satisfied. Emotionally -- physically satisfied looked to be happening in another several minutes. "Exactly. Best idea we ever had, wasn't it? Bringing Fred home." He leaned back again, and unbuttoned his shirt.

Gunn's hands interrupted, and took over. Faster, and soon Wesley was bared chested and was arching his back under the hands rubbing him. "Think we can get any of that flavoured massage oil?"

"It's a green room, Gunn -- we can have anything we ask for."

And beside them, on the small table, appeared a bottle.