__Older Than Words__
By JustHuman



"So this is magic?" Gunn's eyes slowly traveled the length of the flesh spell; still hanging in its depraved glory along the sewer walls.

Wesley nodded. "Of a kind. No words or incantations -- all the power in the physical layout and the act of building it." He began gingerly poking at the debris around the cavernous space, carefully avoiding things that did not make the grade for the demon's spell.

Not sure what he should be doing, Gunn moved from entrance to entrance, doing a security sweep, but at the same time, he kept an eye on Wesley. "You searched this place hours ago -- had help and everything."

"I know. Actually, it's the help I'm worried about. Randall's crew was enthusiastic, but they couldn't know to look for the things I'm interested in." Wesley lifted a piece of broken crate and put it back down quickly.

"What are you looking for?"

Wesley's head jerked up as he gave Gunn a puzzled stare. "You know-"

"-That we looked earlier and didn't find anything." Gunn held out his arms, empty-handed. He knew Wesley was looking for something -- anything that might give them edge against Jasmine. "It's all up to Angel now." They had all watched him go where no oxygen breathing being could follow. It had felt wrong to let him go on his own, like they were letting him down.

Nodding, Wesley scrubbed his hands along his pants. "And if he fails, we're going to have to try something else."

"You think he's not coming back?" Gunn headed back towards the center of the room.

"I don't want to think so, but I think we have to plan for the worst. After all, it always seems to head in that direction." Wesley let out a long sigh.

Gunn scratched at the back of his neck. "Life was so much easier yesterday." And it was. Life under Jasmine had been completely sweet; until you noticed the cage walls. "We're in trouble if Randall's crew decide to go to the surface."

"Yes." Wesley crossed the room, carefully avoiding the partially dismembered demon. "It was fortunate that you and Fred were able to stop Mathew earlier, but it's only a matter of time until we need supplies or someone becomes curious."

"We need to move -- I don't know how or where, but we can't stay here." Gunn knew he was right on this. He knew that Wesley knew it too.

Wesley's face was a mask of concentration. "But if Angel comes back here-"

"He's good at taking care of himself; Angel will find us, if Jasmine doesn't do it first. Someone's got to make it out, remember?"

Wesley turned and gestured like he might want to argue and then winced, rubbing his right arm. "Yes, we need to spread the word."

Gunn frowned. "Did the demon hurt you there?"

"No, this aches from when you stopped me from falling into the pit -- not that I think grabbing me by the arm was a bad idea. I'm not sure I thanked you."

Shrugging, Gunn gave Wesley's other shoulder a pat. "We're on the same team; it's what we do."

"On the same team. Yesterday would you have said, 'We're friends?'"

So much water had gone under the bridge when Jasmine came -- all the crap of a couple of years forgiven just to see her smile. He met Wesley's eyes. "We are friends." Gunn hesitated in saying more because this didn't seem to be the place to be hashing out the other stuff. He didn't like that he couldn't read the expression on Wes' face.

"So are we the kind of friends that exchange cards at Christmas, or the kind that count on each other in a fight?" Wesley moved closer, invading Gunn's space. "Or are we still the kind of friends that fuck each other until we pass out?"

"Jasmine..." Gunn wanted to look away from Wesley's eyes but couldn't. It was like they could see right though him and looking away would have lowered the last defense, exposed too much about the fact that Gunn was feeling torn up inside.

"Do we write off everything that occurred under her influence? Go back to the status quo a year ago?"

"Going back to yesterday, a year ago, or even two years ago, just isn't an option." Looking away, Gunn only saw the gruesome remains of the spell. "Chances are we're as dead as those bastards on the wall, we just haven't admitted it yet."

"Which doesn't answer my question." Wesley stepped in front of Gunn, who felt the tentative touch of a familiar hand on his hip. To a stranger, Wesley's eyes only gave away his determination, but Gunn saw other things -- things that were missing, like anger.

He wanted to give in, but there was so much in his head. "I can remember -- no, that's not right, I can feel everything again -- all the shit that went down between us."

If anything, Wesley moved further into Gunn's space. "I remember things too; like the feel your chest pressed up against my back; the way my body rocked in time to the rhythm of your breathing."

"Wes." Gunn tried to make it a warning, but it didn't come out that way.

"The feel of the backs of your thighs pressed up against my chest and the fullness of your cock filling me again and again -"

"Fuck, Wesley! How are we just supposed to go back to that?" Even as the question was coming out of his mouth, Gunn could feel his body temperature rise and his pants get tighter.

"By just doing it!" This time Wesley looked away, planting his hands on his hips. "That is, if you want to."

"So much, Wes, so much. I remember the hurt, the anger-"

"Do you remember the forgiveness? Do you remember what it was like when she told us to put aside our differences?

Closing his eyes tight, Gunn remembered that afternoon in the basement; just the two of them sparring. They were laughing like fools, just like old times -- and it was. Jasmine had made them talk to each other, but she wasn't there when Gunn used a flying tackle to send them both to the floor, and she wasn't there when Wesley slid a hand in Gunn's jeans -- a forgotten game from nearly two years earlier. That part had been real; Gunn remembered the relief wash through him when, in Jasmine's name, they let it go -- kidnappings, girls, the works..

Before he could nod his agreement, Wesley's hand was on his neck, holding his head steady, and Gunn was being kissed. Suddenly, he was on fire and could hear his own heart pounding in his ears. Sliding a leg between Wesley's, Gunn could feel his partner's hard cock begin to hump his leg.

Biting Wesley's lower lip, Gunn pressed forward, pumping his own hips and let out a small moan of pleasure.

Wesley answered by thrusting his tongue into Gunn's willing mouth and pulling their bodies closer together with a firm hand on Gunn's ass.

Gunn was fairly sure they were both going to come in their pants and have to explain the stains back at the encampment. Dropping to his knees, he slapped away Wesley's hands that were already struggling with his fly. Cupping Wes' balls through the fabric, Gunn took a moment to mouth the hard lines of Wes' dick, hot breath seeping into the fabric. Wesley was breathing heavily, and Gunn could feel the uncontrollable thrust of Wes' hip against his mouth.

When they had time -- when Gunn was feeling patient -- this was a great way to crank up Wesley, make him desperate -- make him beg. But today Gunn wasn't feeling at all patient; time was something they just didn't have anymore.

He made short work of the button and zipper before pushing the pants part way down. Wesley's cock bobbed for a moment, before coming to rest against that ugly-ass shirt that Gunn was sure was Jasmine's evil influence.

His fingers fit perfectly around the base of Wesley's cock, familiar and right. Wesley moaned, and gave a little thrust as Gunn took just the tip in his mouth, getting it nice and wet before sliding down the length.

With his free hand, Gunn opened his own pants, fisting his cock and using the already leaking drops of fluid to ease the friction as he pumped faster and faster with his hand.

Wesley was letting out sighs and grunts, which Gunn knew was a sure sign he was close and trying not to beg or scream or do anything remotely undignified. Sucking hard, Gunn used the slightest pressure of his teeth to graze the hard length, as he moved up and down.

Gunn doubled his pace when Wesley let out a muffled curse and then whimpered. Taking his hand off Wesley's cock, Gunn took in the whole length, letting it hit the back of his throat.

Wesley's hands were on his head, holding Gunn steady. It was his turn to moan when Wesley began to fuck his mouth, short strokes, gliding his hard cock past willing lips. On one hard thrust, Gunn grabbed Wesley's hips, holding him so he could swallow around the heat. Wesley went stiff under his hands and Gunn's mouth was filled with the taste of Wesley.

For a few moments, Wesley stood there stroking Gunn's head, while Gunn licked and sucked the last of it out of him. The softening cock slipped from his mouth, and then Wesley was on his knees, kissing Gunn hard enough to make them both moan.

He gasped when Wesley's fingers glided across the tip of his still hard cock, slicking up his fingers with the drops of come leaking out. Much to his frustration, the fingers were only playing, running light touches along his length.

With a sudden movement, Gunn reached out with both hands, hugging Wesley's body to his, one hand on his back and the other threading its way into his hair -- all the better to hold Wesley and to kiss him until he couldn't breathe.

Then Wesley wasn't playing any more, his hand making fast hard strokes up and down the length of Gunn's cock. Gunn groaned, making a sound that even to him sounded like someone in pain. He clutched Wesley hard, probably too hard, when the world exploded behind his eyes.

With his hand still gliding up and down Gunn's slowly fading erection, Wesley leaned in to kiss and nibble Gunn's neck.

After a few moments, Gunn opened his eyes and leaned back. Moments like this weren't really about talking; they were more about curling up next to each other and falling asleep. But the place and the circumstances weren't going to let them do that.

Wesley tucked in, zipped up and gave Gunn's shoulder a squeeze before he stood up and turned to look at the horror the demon had left behind. Taking a deep breath, Gunn got himself back in order and went to stand beside his partner.

Pointing at the demon's carcass, Wesley said. "He told me I was talking-meat and he was going to smear me across his flesh spell."

Wesley started adjusting Gunn's shirt like they were going to the ballet. Not sure what to say, Gunn questioned him with his eyes. When Wesley looked up he said, "It would seem we smeared each other in our own flesh magic."

Gunn thought about it for a moment and then nodded. "No words, no incantations -- all the power in the making."

Wesley smiled and then took a step towards the door. "We should get back before the others start to worry."

"Yeah. You take the lead; I've got your back."

Pausing, Wesley half-turned and simply nodded. "Same here."

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