Wesley Wyndam-Pryce (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
prodigalwatcher) wrote2006-11-20 11:18 pm
prodigalwatcher) wrote2006-11-20 11:18 pm
Entry tags:
Artistic License - Temptation
Title: Desdemona
Prompt: Temptation
Character: Wesley Wyndam-Pryce
Warning: Adult themes?
Pairing: Wesley/Fred
Fandom: Buffy/Angel
Word count: 509
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Wesley and other characters created by Joss Whedon and are property of Mutant Enemy Productions, and are used without permission.
I wasn't lying when I told Fred that there was "something wrong" with how I felt towards her, and with the tension that had grown taut between us. Angelus, as ever, had used truth as a blade, and after Fred's hearing him lay open the fears and suspicions that had lived in the space between her, Gunn and myself, it had cut deep.
The nerves were made raw, everything brought to the surface. The opportunity at last presented itself, and I seized upon it.
Here is my confession:
It was so easy.
I'd done only what was asked of me. I, the pariah, the outcast, was the one to whom she turned for help. And as deeply as I was cut by Fred's insistence that she loved Gunn for what he could not do, she came to me because I could. Fred came to my house, sought my counsel. She was right, of course, but that isn't my point.
They shut me out, and yet I came to their aid, again and again.
I didn't open the cracks that formed between the two lovers, I only stepped into them, widened them, just a touch here and there. I couldn't help myself, not when those cracks were so plain to see, and their toll on Fred so painful to observe.
But then again, that might imply that I was pursuing some noble rescue of lady fair. No, for once, temptation ruled and I stepped forward to take what I wanted.
What was I, but the wronged party? Who was I, but the man whose honour and dignity had been trampled by those to whom he'd given his absolute loyalty? Where was I, but cast aside?
Why shouldn't I have something to show for it, after how much I had given and how much I continued to give?
Angelus was right, the bastard. I did want to step in and be the hero. I did want to get the girl, to steal her right out from under my rival. And oh, yes, I did want to know what it was like to bend her over the edge of the desk. Of course he was right. The only wrong had been to believe that I truly didn't want any of those things. My wrong.
And then I did step in, to be the hero, to save the girl. And then we were alone, in that office.
It took so little, I was amazed, even more so by how very little I needed to do. Seidel's death. Angelus' words. Pressure here, pressure there. And every bit of it pushing her away from him, and towards me. I could well have just waited on the sidelines until those pressures finally broke things apart.
But as I said, temptation trumped patience.
There was the briefest of moments just before my lips touched hers, before my mouth closed over Fred's, that I stopped to wonder just what she would do. The kiss that answered mine ended that wondering with exceptional finality.
I can still taste her.
Prompt: Temptation
Character: Wesley Wyndam-Pryce
Warning: Adult themes?
Pairing: Wesley/Fred
Fandom: Buffy/Angel
Word count: 509
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Wesley and other characters created by Joss Whedon and are property of Mutant Enemy Productions, and are used without permission.
I wasn't lying when I told Fred that there was "something wrong" with how I felt towards her, and with the tension that had grown taut between us. Angelus, as ever, had used truth as a blade, and after Fred's hearing him lay open the fears and suspicions that had lived in the space between her, Gunn and myself, it had cut deep.
The nerves were made raw, everything brought to the surface. The opportunity at last presented itself, and I seized upon it.
Here is my confession:
It was so easy.
I'd done only what was asked of me. I, the pariah, the outcast, was the one to whom she turned for help. And as deeply as I was cut by Fred's insistence that she loved Gunn for what he could not do, she came to me because I could. Fred came to my house, sought my counsel. She was right, of course, but that isn't my point.
They shut me out, and yet I came to their aid, again and again.
I didn't open the cracks that formed between the two lovers, I only stepped into them, widened them, just a touch here and there. I couldn't help myself, not when those cracks were so plain to see, and their toll on Fred so painful to observe.
But then again, that might imply that I was pursuing some noble rescue of lady fair. No, for once, temptation ruled and I stepped forward to take what I wanted.
What was I, but the wronged party? Who was I, but the man whose honour and dignity had been trampled by those to whom he'd given his absolute loyalty? Where was I, but cast aside?
Why shouldn't I have something to show for it, after how much I had given and how much I continued to give?
Angelus was right, the bastard. I did want to step in and be the hero. I did want to get the girl, to steal her right out from under my rival. And oh, yes, I did want to know what it was like to bend her over the edge of the desk. Of course he was right. The only wrong had been to believe that I truly didn't want any of those things. My wrong.
And then I did step in, to be the hero, to save the girl. And then we were alone, in that office.
It took so little, I was amazed, even more so by how very little I needed to do. Seidel's death. Angelus' words. Pressure here, pressure there. And every bit of it pushing her away from him, and towards me. I could well have just waited on the sidelines until those pressures finally broke things apart.
But as I said, temptation trumped patience.
There was the briefest of moments just before my lips touched hers, before my mouth closed over Fred's, that I stopped to wonder just what she would do. The kiss that answered mine ended that wondering with exceptional finality.
I can still taste her.