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I've been making a man
With blond hair and a tan
And he's good for relieving my...tension.
~Rocky Horror Picture Show~
Wesley: Angel - you can't just - sniff a person and know...
Angel: You had sex last night, with a bleached blonde.
Wesley: Good Lord, how'd you...?
~Dear Boy~
"Wake up, Wes."
Wesley stirs at the feeling of lips pressing softly against his ear and rolls over with a muffled growl, his barely-awakened frustration drowned into his pillow. But all the pissy retorts fade on his tongue as he rolls onto his back, looking into the face of the person he just spent the night with.
"Good morning." Said with crooked grin.
Wes smiles back. He loves this part, the part just after waking when everything is warm and kind of fuzzy. Purely American laziness, but that doesn't mean that he can't be Britishly polite. "Good morning. And what time in the good morning is it, exactly?"
"Nine." Wes sits up with a start, thinking immediately of his responsibilities, and his lover pushes him back down with a sigh. "No. You deserve to sleep in after all that hard work you go through for him. And I deserve a morning in, too. The bosses won't mind; lord knows they're all still in bed with their mistresses. Besides, we've earned this."
"Because you're the good little lawyer," Wes observes without a note of bitterness in his voice.
"Yes." Said quite simply. "And you're the good little puppy dog for Angel."
Wesley throws off the covers with an irritated, and somewhat hurt, snort. "That's it. I'm leaving. Its too early in the morning to fight, and I take offense that-"
His lover has him pinned against the door before he can even put his clothes on. Tongue on his ear, that irritating and sensuous growl that Wesley is beginning to love and hate. Bitch. "Come on, Wesley. We both know that you're Angel's lapdog." Said with a slow lick on his earlobe. "Or would be, if he would let you." Harsh bite on his neck, and Wesley is writhing.
But he manages to get in a few verbal punches himself. "And what about you? On your knees for Wolfram and Hart, selling your soul for some cash, a nice office? Whore. Fucking beautiful whore, but oh..."
His lover is pulling softly on Wes' hair, and Wes just growled back. "I don't have time for this. I have to get to work." Barely convincing, even he doesn't believe that he truly means it, but...
He is released with an irritated sigh. "Fine then. Run back to Angel and Cordelia, and that new boy...what was his name? Gunn?" Wesley opens his mouth, but is cut off before he can even think of a somewhat reasonable response. "Of course we know about him, Wes. Half of LA does, even the ones who don't work for monsters."
"Gunn is indeed..." What? A part of the staff? A friend? Someone who is more likely to end up in bed with Angel than Wes himself, solely because of his irritating alpha male stance? And why is he jealous at just the thought of Gunn? He doesn't think that the classification of himself as Angel's pet are true, but there is an undeniably bad feeling in his stomach, which he tries to cover up with a shrug. "Part of our team."
"No." Shake of the head. "Wolfram and Hart is a team. All of us, working together--"
"Hating each other and trying to steal each others' promotions, often resorting to cold-blooded murder?" Wesley shakes his head, pulling on his pants, which have been crumpled on the floor since two AM last night. "Look, love?I have to leave. I don't want to take off with the two of us arguing about our jobs. We work for opposing teams. Its as simple as that."
With a cocky grin, his lover fell into the one easy chair in the tiny motel room. "You're right. I'm sick of it. I like to screwing you and I hate your boss, so I guess we'll just have to compromise."
"Agreed," Wesley says seriously, but there is a grin on his face. He walks over to his lover and grabs a single streaked piece of hair, tugging on it gently. "You know, Angel thinks I'm having sex with a bleached blond."
"Well, I guess Angel doesn't know that there's a different between bleach and highlights," Lindsey says dryly as he reaches up to kiss Wes.
Note: I. Don't. Know. Okay? I really don't. Its just, apparently Wesley fucks bleached blonds, and Lindsey had those new fugly highlights, and this just came into my head and wouldn't go away. And I hate those fics where the other character is referred to simply as "his lover" or "her lover." It always seems really pretentious and lame, and I don't claim that it isnt in this case, but apparently Lindsey didn't want to come out until the very end. And hey, I wrote m/m! Good for me, litte femslash whore that I am!
