As Wesley shifted on the bed, my hand lifted away, hovering in the air for a moment before I pulled it back to my side, unsure about what to do while he shifted. When he settled, I shifted myself slightly to allow him room, and looked back up at him
"About the poison leaving your body?" I asked, looking at him oddly. I didn't think that I could douby whether he was in pain or not... I was pretty good at telling when someone was hurting. After all, I had spent over a century doing that myself.
My hand smoothed the covers on the bed awkwardly, as I studied Wesley carefully. He did look like something was hurting him... I didn't like that at all. Paralysation was one thing, but for there to be more pain... had the book mentioned anything about that? I didn't think so, but not the book was halfway across the room, the place lost, and I didn't feel like looking for it again right now.
"Is... is there anything I can do?" I repeated after a moment. I didn't like sitting here, not being able to do anything; I was supposed to help people, not just sit around and watch them suffer, right?
"Oh." I blinked at him slowly, suddenly feeling very tired. Once again I had trouble keeping my eyes open and I just hoped I could get some sleep soon. I was bloody exhausted, which is more then a little ridiculous considering all I do is lay on bed. God, how pathetic.
"Yes, I'm sure," I said, congratulating myself for sounding so confident. I was far from convident. Hell, I didn't know if that was actually the poison leaving my body. I could only hope so, because then the pain would have a valid reason. I guess. Now? It's just annoying and very painful. And tiring, trying to hide it from Angel. Which I really have to ask myself if that is even working.
"Do?" I parroted stupidly, blinking at him again. Do? What did he want to do? Massage my leg? I don't think he'd be very comfortable doing that. Nor would I. Other then that? There's not a whole lot one can do. "I don't know," I whispered, stifling a yawn. And could he *please* put on my...his...clothes? I'm getting sick of literally feeling very weak and vulnerable.
I watched as Wesley yawned, then glanced away politely. "That's good... I'm glad you're starting to feel better, though." I nodded slightly, then glanced down at the stack of clothes still lying on the bed.
I lifted them up, and looked over at Wes. "So, um, did you want these on, then?" I asked, setting the clothes down again next to him. It would be awkward, to say the least... but it wasn't like we weren't friends here. He might need the clothes to keep warm or something... and who was I to deny him that?
I rested one hand on the clothes as I waited, glancing at the clock again. Not that much longer until he'd be able to put them on himself, hopefully, but if he wanted them on now... Hell, I'd get over it- I had seen more than my share of naked bodies in the past. On the other hand, would Wesley ever be able to look at me the same way again? He still was shy at times, and I wondered if he'd really be okay with this- it wasn't worth ruining our friendship, I thought. If he'd never be able to look me in the eye again... I blinked, snapping out of it again.
Blinking, I looked at him wearily. Did I want those on now? Yes I did. This feeling of nakedness wasn't at all comfortable. Just a few thin sheets covering it up, wasn't at all comfortable. And maybe it's just in my own mind I feel so vulnerable without clothes, but I can't help it. After all, I'm well aware that the suits I wore during my Sunnydale days, were nothing but a mere armor as well.
Did I want Angel to put them on? Not really, things were embarrassing enough as they were. Then again, he picked me out from underneath the shower. One can't get much more naked then under there. It would be rather odd to shower with one's clothes on. So he'd seen it all, and he was a man...pire, himself. God, it's still so embarrassing.
"Please," I managed to get out, wincing at the sound and tone of my own voice. Could I sound anymore defeated and small? So much for putting up a strong font. I'm supposed to be the boss here, and now look at me. Weak and pathetic, laying in a co-workers bed naked and completely reliable on Angel's help. For just about anything.
Which would include... Christ no. Why is my bladder not paralyzed as well? Squirming, I tried to ignore the pressure building there while I looked away from Angel.
I nodded slightly, then reached to pick up the boxers that I had lent Wes. As I lifted them, I glanced up just as Wesley glanced away and began to squirm. I looked away, realizing that this had to be hard for him, after all... having one of your friends have to dress you probably wasn't very high on his list of things he loved.
I grabbed the edge of the sheet, preparing to ease it back; better to get the most stressful part over first, right? Put the boxers and sweats on, then the shirt, and all would be fine? I glanced back up at Wesley, looking for permission almost, and I noticed him still squirming a little bit.
"Wesley?" I asked, concerned. "I... I'm sorry." I glanced away again, wondering if there was any other way to do this, so Wes wasn't so uncomfortable, and so he'd be able to look me in the eye again when this was over. I could try knocking him out, but... somehow, I didn't think that would work very well, and I didn't want to go there.
Alright, why am I still not dressed? The longer this takes, the more embarrassed I'm going to be. And from the way Angel is hovering about, I'd say he will be as well. And isn't that a strange thought, considering he's a vampire and has seen plenty of naked people before. Even dead ones, he killed himself. Well, Angelus did.
"What are you sorry for...now?" I asked, rather exasperated. I was getting very tired of that as well. His constant apologizing was getting on my nerves. Especially since I had no bloody clue what the hell he was sorry for this time. It would seem he'd feel sorry for the most stupidest things. Next, he'll be feeling sorry and guilty for me having to go to the toilet.
Which I still have to do. And thinking about it isn't doing me a whole lot of good. I just need to keep it in for...God, how long? A few hours? I don't know if I can, but I'm bloody well going to try. "Just get...get on with it," I sighed, looking away from him while I tried not to squirm so much.
What was I sorry for? Wasn't I making him uncomfortable? I could see how awkward this was, and... I couldn't blame him.
I shrugged it off, though, instead nodding when he told me to get on with it. This was starting to wear on my nerves as well, waiting for Wes to get better so I would know for sure that he was going to be fine, and that the book had been telling the truth... I moved the sheet down from Wesley's waist, moving it to his ankles and snagging the boxers from his side.
I carefully avoided Wesley's eyes as I worked the boxers up his legs, being careful not to jar him as I shifted his legs. As I reached his waist, I swallowed, then slipped an arm under and around his waist, lifting him up so I could finish slipping the boxers up.
I stopped before I finished that, though, and glanced up at Wesley, commenting casually, "You're too thin, Wes." I shouldn't be able to lift him this easily- he was taller than me, and I would have hoped that he would take care of himself. He was thin... almost as thin as Cordelia had been when I had first run into her in LA.
Staring at him until he started to move, I reverted my eyes up the ceiling. I gritted my teeth, sucking in my breath when cool air licked over my sweat damp skin. God, this was embarrassing. But I knew I'd feel better wearing something. Feel less vulnerable.
Though I was feeling *very* vulnerable right this moment. He was moving so damn slow. Maybe it just seemed that way, but he could move a little... a lot faster. Wishing that he were, I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. His hands were cool on my skin as they brushed over it and I bit down on a sigh.
"I'm...I'm what?" I opened my eyes, looking at him stunned. All thoughts of being embarrassed left my mind while I mulled that over. I glanced down my body, luckily with boxers on now and raised an eyebrow. "I've always been this way?" Confused, I looked at him again and blinked.
What? What did he mean 'I am to thin.'? "I'm not thin," I felt the need to point out, swallowing the urge to yell at him to bloody hurry it up.
"About the poison leaving your body?" I asked, looking at him oddly. I didn't think that I could douby whether he was in pain or not... I was pretty good at telling when someone was hurting. After all, I had spent over a century doing that myself.
My hand smoothed the covers on the bed awkwardly, as I studied Wesley carefully. He did look like something was hurting him... I didn't like that at all. Paralysation was one thing, but for there to be more pain... had the book mentioned anything about that? I didn't think so, but not the book was halfway across the room, the place lost, and I didn't feel like looking for it again right now.
"Is... is there anything I can do?" I repeated after a moment. I didn't like sitting here, not being able to do anything; I was supposed to help people, not just sit around and watch them suffer, right?
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"Yes, I'm sure," I said, congratulating myself for sounding so confident. I was far from convident. Hell, I didn't know if that was actually the poison leaving my body. I could only hope so, because then the pain would have a valid reason. I guess. Now? It's just annoying and very painful. And tiring, trying to hide it from Angel. Which I really have to ask myself if that is even working.
"Do?" I parroted stupidly, blinking at him again. Do? What did he want to do? Massage my leg? I don't think he'd be very comfortable doing that. Nor would I. Other then that? There's not a whole lot one can do. "I don't know," I whispered, stifling a yawn. And could he *please* put on my...his...clothes? I'm getting sick of literally feeling very weak and vulnerable.
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I lifted them up, and looked over at Wes. "So, um, did you want these on, then?" I asked, setting the clothes down again next to him. It would be awkward, to say the least... but it wasn't like we weren't friends here. He might need the clothes to keep warm or something... and who was I to deny him that?
I rested one hand on the clothes as I waited, glancing at the clock again. Not that much longer until he'd be able to put them on himself, hopefully, but if he wanted them on now... Hell, I'd get over it- I had seen more than my share of naked bodies in the past. On the other hand, would Wesley ever be able to look at me the same way again? He still was shy at times, and I wondered if he'd really be okay with this- it wasn't worth ruining our friendship, I thought. If he'd never be able to look me in the eye again... I blinked, snapping out of it again.
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Did I want Angel to put them on? Not really, things were embarrassing enough as they were. Then again, he picked me out from underneath the shower. One can't get much more naked then under there. It would be rather odd to shower with one's clothes on. So he'd seen it all, and he was a man...pire, himself. God, it's still so embarrassing.
"Please," I managed to get out, wincing at the sound and tone of my own voice. Could I sound anymore defeated and small? So much for putting up a strong font. I'm supposed to be the boss here, and now look at me. Weak and pathetic, laying in a co-workers bed naked and completely reliable on Angel's help. For just about anything.
Which would include... Christ no. Why is my bladder not paralyzed as well? Squirming, I tried to ignore the pressure building there while I looked away from Angel.
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I grabbed the edge of the sheet, preparing to ease it back; better to get the most stressful part over first, right? Put the boxers and sweats on, then the shirt, and all would be fine? I glanced back up at Wesley, looking for permission almost, and I noticed him still squirming a little bit.
"Wesley?" I asked, concerned. "I... I'm sorry." I glanced away again, wondering if there was any other way to do this, so Wes wasn't so uncomfortable, and so he'd be able to look me in the eye again when this was over. I could try knocking him out, but... somehow, I didn't think that would work very well, and I didn't want to go there.
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"What are you sorry for...now?" I asked, rather exasperated. I was getting very tired of that as well. His constant apologizing was getting on my nerves. Especially since I had no bloody clue what the hell he was sorry for this time. It would seem he'd feel sorry for the most stupidest things. Next, he'll be feeling sorry and guilty for me having to go to the toilet.
Which I still have to do. And thinking about it isn't doing me a whole lot of good. I just need to keep it in for...God, how long? A few hours? I don't know if I can, but I'm bloody well going to try. "Just get...get on with it," I sighed, looking away from him while I tried not to squirm so much.
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I shrugged it off, though, instead nodding when he told me to get on with it. This was starting to wear on my nerves as well, waiting for Wes to get better so I would know for sure that he was going to be fine, and that the book had been telling the truth... I moved the sheet down from Wesley's waist, moving it to his ankles and snagging the boxers from his side.
I carefully avoided Wesley's eyes as I worked the boxers up his legs, being careful not to jar him as I shifted his legs. As I reached his waist, I swallowed, then slipped an arm under and around his waist, lifting him up so I could finish slipping the boxers up.
I stopped before I finished that, though, and glanced up at Wesley, commenting casually, "You're too thin, Wes." I shouldn't be able to lift him this easily- he was taller than me, and I would have hoped that he would take care of himself. He was thin... almost as thin as Cordelia had been when I had first run into her in LA.
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Though I was feeling *very* vulnerable right this moment. He was moving so damn slow. Maybe it just seemed that way, but he could move a little... a lot faster. Wishing that he were, I swallowed hard and closed my eyes. His hands were cool on my skin as they brushed over it and I bit down on a sigh.
"I'm...I'm what?" I opened my eyes, looking at him stunned. All thoughts of being embarrassed left my mind while I mulled that over. I glanced down my body, luckily with boxers on now and raised an eyebrow. "I've always been this way?" Confused, I looked at him again and blinked.
What? What did he mean 'I am to thin.'? "I'm not thin," I felt the need to point out, swallowing the urge to yell at him to bloody hurry it up.
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