Fandom: Angel

Something large and greyish had eaten half the car, the Host was undoubtedly still hitting on Angel, Angel was undoubtedly still being oblivious, and he...

was naked and chained to the ceiling, with an equally chained and naked Wes at his side.

Normally, this could be something Gunn could work with.

But no, they had to be all Cordy saving and them not dying and there was this whole thing where the Host (Lorne? Lorne? fucking a) was deeply not telling them shit and hey, Gunn was down with that except for the fact that he was fucking chained to the fucking ceiling and fucking naked.

But not fucking.

Sub-li-ma-tion.

It had, all in all, been a shitty couple of days. In epic proportions.

And he didn't even have a conscious Wesley to complain to.

Gunn tried to swing himself over a little, give Wesley a wake up kick in the ass. He'd be damned if he was going take this kind of thing quietly.

Fuck. "Wesley."

Fuck. "Wesley."

Fuck. "Wes. Wes. Wes."

Fuck. "Wesley, stop being unconscious."

Fuck. "Hey! English."

"Gunn, have I been run over by a truck?"

Finally. "No."

Wesley opened his eyes and stared at Gunn. "Would being run over by a truck be an improvement?"

"Yes."

"Ah." Wesley looked up at the chains binding his wrists. Looked down. Back over at Gunn. Back at himself. "You're naked."

"Give the man a prize," said Gunn dryly. "You're naked too."

"Hm. Yes. That does explain the draft."

"That's bad."

Wesley had the good grace to look ashamed. "I know."

"Really bad. Fucking awful."

"Yes. It was the best I could come up with under the circumstances."

"You realize that when we get out of this, I'm going to have to kick your ass."

"For a bad joke?"

"Ain't no way I'm letting that go unpunished."

Wesley smiled. "You make such lovely promises."

"Pervert." But Gunn was smiling back, and somehow, being naked and chained to a ceiling was back in the land of No Problem. "I don't suppose you got a plan."

"Of course I have a plan."

"C'mon. Gimme."

"Get free. Don't die. Go home."

"Oh, fuck you."

"Well, I thought it was funny." Wesley grabbed the chain above his hands and pulled. "Ow. Ow. Fuck. Ow."

"Your stomach hurting?"

"Isn't it always?" asked Wesley, grimacing. He let the chain go and slumped down, breathing hard. Gunn wished, not for the first time, that he could do something about that. Fix things so that Wesley didn't have to hurt, or bleed out, or fall over anymore. "At least it's not an excruciatingly fiery I think my intestines are falling out pain. It's just a sharp stabbing pain, which I think is an improvement."

"Yeah. Some improvement." Gunn gave an experimental tug at his own chains. "They built these things to last."

"Yes," said Wesley, "it's quality craftsmanship, damn the bastards."

"Tell me you know some magic spell that will unlock these chains and get us out of here."

"I know a magic spell that will get us out of the chains."

Gunn waited for Wesley to go on, and when he didn't, Gunn said, "Well?"

"It involves having our hands melt."

"Oh." Gunn frowned. "Well...shit."

"Quite." Wesley sighed. "I must say, this is not how I envisioned first seeing you naked."

"You've imagined me naked?"

"Often. And in great detail."

"That's...sweet."

"And you call me a pervert?"

"Am I wrong?"

Wesley snorted. "Not really."

Gunn grinned. "Well, there you go."

"Honestly, Gunn, you are the strangest person."

"I'm a normal guy in a strange world."

"Hmph," said Wesley. "We're both normal guys in a strange world."

"Heh. Strangers." When Wesley blinked at him in confusion, Gunn clarified. "In a strange land."

"Ah." Wesley raised an eyebrow. "I'm going to kick your ass."

"At least I didn't say we're not in Kansas anymore."

Wesley sighed. "No, the Host beat you to it."

"Why am I not surprised?" Gunn caught Wesley rolling his eyes. "Stupid question."

"So, can I assume that Angel and the Host are not here?"

Gunn shrugged as best he could. "You can."

"Would I be right?"

"Fucked if I know."

"Hmm," said Wesley.

"What hmm? Man. I fucking hate hmm." Gunn glared at Wesley. "Hmm is always bad."

"If they haven't been captured, then they should come for us."

"They could be dead."

Wesley made a face at him. "You realize that I'm trying to be optimistic here."

"Oh. Sorry," said Gunn. "I thought you were trying for reality."

"In reality, I'd say we're quite fucked."

"Keep being optimistic."

"Right." Wesley stared at the door like he could will it to open. "Angel and the Host will come rescue us."

"And see us naked."

"Yes, and see us naked." The expression on Wesley's face made Gunn snicker. "Bloody hell."

"It could be worse."

"Please, Gunn, tell me how."

"Cordy could be with them, and she'd see us naked too."

"Bloody hell."

Gunn grinned. "At least we look good naked."

Wesley opened his mouth. Shut it. Looked at Gunn with this tiny little curl to his mouth. "You think I look good naked?"

"Yeah," said Gunn, partially 'cause it was true, but mostly because it got him that huge pleased smile and he dug that so hard. "Yeah, you look good, English."

"The sentiment is entirely mutual," Wesley said, still smiling.

And all Gunn could do then was grin like a fool at Wesley and swing gently in the chains feeling warm.

Wesley blushed.

Gunn just grinned wider, and that was...fucked in the head. Completely and totally fucked, 'cause there they were in mortal danger and naked and chained and he had, up until then, been having the king shit of shitty days, and he was feeling all fuzzy because Wesley thought he had it going on with the naked.

This, he told himself sternly, is what comes from hanging out with fucked in the head white people. You help out a few times, kill some vamps, kill a few demons, and suddenly you were on another planet waiting to die and feeling goddamn groovy.

Lord fucking save him.

The door to their cell burst open and Gunn swung toward the sound, grabbing the chain above his hands so he could get a decent kick in. He saw Wesley do the same, and he knew that whatever happened, at least they'd go down kicking ass and taking names.

"Guys!" said Angel, striding through the door. "We've--" He stopped. Blinked at them. "Uh."

"Angel," said Wesley politely. He let the chain go and slumped again. "How nice to see you."

"You're naked."

Gunn rolled his eyes. "That detective label wasn't wasted on you, was it?"

"Gunn! You are. Also naked."

The Host poked his head through the door, "Angelcakes, we really need to get out of here before the guards recover and hello there." He did the quick glance and slide. "Very nice, boys."

"Kill me now," Gunn heard Wesley say. When he looked, Wesley was doing the blushy thing again.

"I will um. Get you some clothes," said Angel, and Gunn didn't think he'd blinked since he got through the door.

"Much appreciated," said Wesley.

"Yeah," Gunn said, "and you know what else would be much appreciated? Someone unlocking the damn chains so we can get down."

Angel nodded. "Yeah. Yeah. I..." He tossed the key at the Host and walked out the door as fast as he'd come in. "Here."

"Chickenshit," Gunn muttered after him.

The Host patted him on the shoulder as he went to unlock Wesley and ease him to the floor. "Now, sweetie, not all of us are blessed with a healthy appreciation for naked men chained to a ceiling."

Gunn just snorted and waited patiently for the Host to unlock him so he could get down and they could go find Cordy.

Then they could all go home, and Gunn would see if Wesley walked the walk as well as talking a damn good talk. And maybe Gunn'd find out if he had a new place to play, and a new crew to hang with.

Angel came back with some nasty-ass clothes that looked like they'd been made out of potato sacks and fucking tights.

Tights.

Like he needed this shit.

Wesley swore quietly and squirmed, and Gunn took a moment to appreciate that view. Yeah, it had definitely a crap filled couple of days, but maybe things were looking up.

Wesley met his eyes. Smiled a little.

Things could be worse.