Laura Stone (stoney321) wrote,
Laura Stone

more ficlets: smells like depression!

So, um, been hiding in the house today not making CDs. I'm not a machine after all. This got started over at karabair's journal and ended up a double drabble. That's my new term, 'cause it's about 200 words or so. Ficlet is gay. Hee! Folks, it's this or everyone takes a dirt nap, if you catch my meaning. Thanks for the love!

Title: Singular
Rating: PG-13, but barely
Pairing: Wes/Fred
Warning: Angst. We're talking Fred and Wes, people.
A/N: Tried to keep this cannon, which makes me sad. I don't think they really did it, because they had, like, five minutes of joy, and my Wes can go all night.

Her shy smile meant something different now. The sight of her thick lashes on her cheek made it feel as if his heart was being squeezed. She breathlessly called out his name as his mouth found the pulse behind her ear. And she giggled when he gently rubbed his stubble against the delicate skin of her neck.

She opened her eyes and looked at him while her hands found their way under the rough fabric of his shirt. As her hands manuevered to his waist band, he pulled her closer, whispering love words to her, meaningless noise really, but she understood completely.

He kissed her softly, delicately, as if she would break. He wanted to cherish her, to worship her. He didn't bury his hands in her hair as he longed to. He softly brushed it from her face, leaned his face into it as she slid his jeans over his hips, and whispered, "I love you," into it.

While his hands moved like small birds over her body, her hands moved with purpose. She cupped his backside and guided him on top of her small body and she smiled at his quiet, serious face. As he began to move within her, he kept their foreheads together, oblivious to the tears that ran down his face to mix with hers.

She climaxed before he did with a cry that turned into the giggle he loved. She put both hands to his face, stroking the stubble with her thumbs and whipsered, "I love you. I have for awhile, you know." He clutched her to his body and felt his own release. He quietly said into her hair, her ear, her neck, "oh, I love you. I love you."

He rolled to his side and pulled her to him, holding her there as if she would vanish. That giggle again. "Wesley, Wesley, are you alright?"

Wesley opened his eyes and saw Fred's landlord looking down at him with worry, the front door pulled off its hinges.

"I - I heard a noise and she's usually such a quiet girl. Then I decided to check and I found you passed out here. Are you okay?"

Wesley slowly stood, reached up to find the lump that had already formed on the back of his head from being thrown. Illyria had left, and Wesley decided quickly that someone will pay. She was so brave in the end... After a quick check to make sure he had his office keys, Wesley ignored the questions from the old man, and headed for the laboratory at Wolfram & Hart.
Tags: fic, fred, wesley

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