AU of an AU, reality_bends-style
I finally got my brain back from my cold just in time to need pretty much every mental cycle, since I'm being bombarded with house renovation issues. Yesterday was supposed to be my day to catch up at the old house, and I didn't even get the dishwasher emptied. *sigh* But we're putting the house back together again, finally, and it's so exciting to see walls and such! Today our tile guy starts his installation, and Saturday the hardwood guys start... *wiggles happily* Someday we'll have a house!
I do have a spare mental cycle now and again, though, and I've been thinking about an AU from the reality_bends fic wesleysgirl and I are working on. This is totally not canon.
Dawn's a major character in the fic we're writing, and what her relationship is with the boys is pretty much the crux of the story. They have to work out how they all fit together, if they even can. It's all very platonic but difficult nonetheless. Dawn has trouble understanding why they're together, and Spike and Wesley get new issues with each other that make them both hurt.
However, in this AU in my head Wes and Dawn go off together to do something spell-related, like going to a magic shop or bookstore or whatnot, and they have a really good time together. Dawn's smart and has gone from being petulant to much more fun and interesting, and Wes enjoys having a companion with whom he can talk about Watcherly things. Plus, he finds her big smile disarming. She's also pleased to find that he's not as stuffy as she thought he was, and he's not in a position of responsibility like Giles is so that they can just geek out for fun without other worries. They talk about all sorts of stuff, from Spike to spells, and it's a very good day. So neither of them is particularly surprised to find him/herself thinking fondly of the other as they walk back to the apartment. It's nice to feel happy and warm inside.
In the stairs on the way up, though, Dawn stops at a dim landing and looks at him. He looks back and finds himself itching to touch her long hair as it gleams in the shaft of light from the high, narrow window above them.
"I've had a good time with you today. I don't want it to end," she says.
He smiles. "It doesn't have to."
"I want to understand," she says, her voice soft.
"Understand what?" He doesn't move as she takes a step closer.
"What Spike sees in you. I know what I see, but I want to know what he sees. So I'll know in my heart why he's here."
Wesley knows that he probably ought to take offense, or at least ought to take a step back, since now he can smell her light floral perfume and the fruity tang of the smoothie she'd drunk on the way home, but he doesn't. He can't, not when her hand comes up to rest on his chest and she tips her face up to his. He hesitates for a second, but he doesn't know why he'd deny her the chance to understand Spike better.
They kiss. At first he stands there and lets her just press her mouth to his, but when she moves in against him and kisses him harder he loses his restraint. He pushes her against the wall, his hands firm on her slender body, over her soft sweater and then under as he devours her mouth. She clings to him, panting, gasping, moaning, as he palms her breasts and trails his mouth down her throat. He's desperate for her skin, but he can't move away far enough to remove any of her clothing. She seems to feel the same way, tugging at his shirt to get her hands underneath and wrapping one leg around his to pull him closer. They grapple with each other, eager and mindless, making little noises of encouragement and pleasure. Wesley manages to unfasten her bra and hitch her up the wall so that he can get his mouth on her breasts. She shudders and moans, wrapping her legs around his waist and rocking against him.
"I need... I need...," Dawn gasps, and he understands because he needs it, too. She's wearing a knee-length skirt, and he pulls it up, slipping his fingers beneath her underwear and pressing his fingers where she wants them most. In a few seconds she's orgasming, lost and gorgeous, and then she's fumbling at his belt. Her hands are awkward on his clothing, but once they wrap around his cock he doesn't care at all. A few seconds more and he's inside of her, his face buried against her neck and her legs around him again. She is so hot and slick and responsive, and he praises her again and again in broken phrases as he thrusts into her mindlessly. She moves with him as best she can, crying out once more as he falls over the edge, himself. It's the best orgasm he's ever had, powerful and all-consuming.
Wesley's hands are still shaking as he smoothes back her beautiful hair and kisses her with gentle thoroughness until they've both recovered their breath. Then he sets his hands on her waist - so tiny, he thinks, but so strong - and eases out of her. "I didn't think," he says when he realizes suddenly that there are precautions one needs with a woman. "Are you - ?"
"I'm on the pill," she says, smiling. She straightens her skirt and refastens her bra before walking over to kiss him once more. "Thank you. Now I see. Totally."
"Are you saying he loves me for my body?" he asks, and then reality hits him like an ice-cold tidal wave. He looks up the stairs in growing horror. He just had sex with Dawn. Dawn, not Spike, the person he loves. "Spike."
Her eyes grow huge. "Oh, god. He's up there."
Wesley looks between them. They look a bit rumpled, but to a vampire the smell will be an immediate sign. He thinks about going somewhere to shower - a gym, a hotel - but it's no use. He would have to tell Spike, regardless.
"There has to be something wrong with us," Dawn says. She turns back to him. She looks absolutely terrified. "Right?"
"Right. Of course." He tries to swallow the nausea that threatens to overwhelm him. "Under normal circumstances, we would never..." His voice gives out.
Dawn looks away, flushing as she nods. "Yeah. Never. I mean..."
Wesley forces himself to look at the situation from a logical perspective instead of the horror that is making his skin cold and his throat close up. He cannot afford to give into the very real panic inside of him. "We have to sort this out. Figure out what has happened and fix it."
"Yes." Dawn takes a step toward him. "We really do, because we... I..." Her eyes are damp with mute appeal, and he instinctively wraps his arms around her.
"It's all right, Dawn. We'll sort it out." She sniffles against his collar, and he finds himself pressing kisses to her hair before he realizes what he's going. "Oh, lord." He drops his arms, but it's much harder than it should be.
She frowns at him for an instant before comprehension floods her face and she backs up. "This is so not good."
Wesley can't help but agree. Even the thought of what Spike's reaction will be is enough to make him feel like he's going to vomit, but he keeps his face as neutral as he can and gestures for her to precede him up the stairs. They both walk up with their eyes straight ahead and their backs absolutely straight. If his hand finds itself at the small of her back as he unlocks the door neither of them mentions it.
Spike comes to greet them with a rant about being left alone for hours when the video game is on the fritz, though his eyes are warm with a smile that doesn't reach his mouth, but both he and the rant stop short. He looks between the two of them, going absolutely still. "What's this, then?" he drawls. "Couldn't wait to get to the bed?" He nods behind him. "Right over there, if you're ready for round two. Or is it three?"
Wesley can read the intense pain in Spike's eyes, and he immediately says, "There's something wrong."
"No shit," Spike responds flatly. "There's so much wrong I don't even know where to start. Wait. Yes, I do." His shock is turning to anger as he glares at Wesley. "You want a quick shag, there are millions of bloody women and men in this city. You don't do it with her." He points at Dawn but doesn't look at her.
"It wasn't a quick shag," Dawn insists, taking a step toward Wesley.
Spike still doesn't look in her direction, but he stiffens further at her movement. "Oh, well, that makes it all better, doesn't it?!" He spins away from them and starts to pace around the room.
"Spike, listen," Wesley says desperately. "We think... we don't know what we think, but we must be under some sort of spell or outside influence. You know we wouldn't do this on our own. And if we wanted to, wouldn't we at least speak with you first?"
Spike paces for a long minute, his jaw clenching and his movements jerky. When he turns to face them his face is as hard as Wesley has ever seen it. "You know, I'd be a hell of a lot more likely to believe you if you weren't holding hands."
Wesley and Dawn jerk away, both of them clearly unaware that they'd been touching.
Yadda yadda yadda, Spike calms down a bit and agrees that they're under some influence, but he makes them go take (separate) showers before he is willing to discuss the possibilities. He refuses to talk with Wesley about what happened, despite Wesley's pleading. They spend the evening researching, but Dawn and Wesley can't seem to stop touching each other, and Wesley finds himself complimenting Dawn on her abilities as he lets his thigh brush against hers beneath the table. Spike looks like he's crushed but refuses to admit it, eventually just walking out of the room. Wesley isn't sure how much of his affection toward Dawn was already there, since she is smart and enjoyable to work with, and how much is whatever is influencing them, but even if they start across the living room in ten minutes they're nearly in each other's laps again.
Saying good night to Dawn is one of the hardest things Wesley has ever had to do, and that's not even because it means he has to go into the bedroom to speak with Spike. Spike's awake, flipping listlessly through a heavy tome on his lap, and his eyes are dull as he glances up at Wesley for a split-second.
"I'm sorry," Wesley whispers after he undresses and crawls into bed beside him. He reaches out to put a hand on Spike's arm, but Spike flinches. Wesley lets his hand fall to the bed.
"You still smell like her," Spike says, turning to the next page.
"I'm sorry," Wesley says again.
"Not your fault. Apparently."
"Do you really think I'd do that to you? With her or with anyone?"
Spike doesn't say anything immediately, which is answer enough. Finally he says, "You like her."
"I do. Before today you were happy about that."
"She's smart, gorgeous, interested in everything you care about. She's perfect for you."
Wesley wishes he could touch Spike, even if a part of him is still itching for the taste of Dawn's skin. "She's not you."
Spike's reply is a sighed, "Exactly."
He refuses to engage in any more conversation that evening and doesn't curl around Wesley after he turns out the light. Wesley goes to sleep feeling empty and alone.
The next day the research continues. Dawn and Wesley get better about keeping their hands to themselves, especially after they find themselves grappling against the counter in the kitchen while they wait for their coffee, and Spike researches steadily but with little of his usual manic energy. Mid-afternoon Dawn goes out to fetch a spell component. Wesley itches to go with her, but he stays home and tries to seduce Spike instead.
It goes very, very badly. Spike shies away at first, but he gives in when Wesley all but begs him to kiss him. For a few minutes it seems like it's going well, since Spike turns quite possessive and pins Wesley on the floor, kissing him hard. But Spike's the only thing that's hard. Wesley's cock barely gets to half-mast no matter what Spike does. Spike finally pushes away from him and just walks out of the apartment. It's the middle of the afternoon, and Wesley worries about him out in the sun, but he worries more when he gets fully erect in seconds when Dawn returns. They spend the evening inching closer and closer together, and when Wesley has his hand down her slacks he knows with aching clarity that he's probably lost Spike for good.
The next day they break the spell - a compulsion cast upon them by a misguided, matchmaking warlock - and the three of them stare at each other from the edges of the ritual circle.
Dawn's the one who breaks the silence, standing up with grave dignity. "If this had to happen, I'm glad it was with you two. But I'm sorry about hurting you," she says, soft but honest, and goes into her room.
"Well," Spike says, rising to his own feet and smudging the chalk circle with the edge of his boot. "Better clean this up before the cat gets covered in it."
"Spike..." Now that the compulsion is gone, Wesley is even more desperate for Spike's touch than he was for Dawn's. He needs to know that they're okay, and he knows that they absolutely aren't.
"No harm done."
The dam bursts inside of Wesley, flooding him with warring emotions. "Have you lost your mind?" he asks. "No harm done?!"
Spike rocks back on his heels. "Just a phrase, Wes." His voice is so brittle it sounds like he's going to shatter at any moment.
Wesley walks over to him, anger and misery warring for expression. "I had sex with a woman nearly half my age, in whom I have no romantic interest. I was manipulated against my will both physically and mentally. I may have lost you. No harm done?"
Spike looks at him for a long moment, his mobile face clouded with doubt and hope and the familiar gleam of love. "You haven't lost me," he says gently. It looks like it hurts to say it.
"I hurt you," Wesley whispers. "So much, and I - " He doesn't know how to say how afraid he is that he's damaged their relationship for good... or what it might mean about what Spike was willing to accept if he hasn't.
"It was a spell, love."
The endearment makes Wesley's throat close up, and it takes him a second to reply. "You still have doubts."
"Not about the spell."
"About me. About what I want. You think she's better for me than you are."
Spike glances away, back toward Dawn's room. "Some ways she is."
"She's not you," Wesley says.
Still looking brittle, Spike repeats what he said two nights before, "Exactly."
Wesley leans in and feels his chest tighten with joy as Spike allows a gentle kiss. "Exactly," he murmurs against Spike's mouth and kisses him again.
The rest of the day is awkward. Dawn goes out and leaves them alone for a while, which lets them have a bit of kissing and a lot of trying to act like things are normal. She apologizes to Spike, who tells her not to worry about it and at least she's got good taste. Wes apologizes to her, and she tells him not to worry about it... and that at least they had fun. Could've been worse, right? They both have a much-needed if slightly awkward laugh. Wes and Spike don't talk much, but Wes makes sure that his attention is fully focused on Spike instead of her. The return to normalcy seems to heal the worst edges of the raw pain.
At night Wesley takes charge and coaxes three orgasms from Spike, leaving them both numb and sated. They both give Dawn big hugs when she leaves for the airport the next afternoon. Day by day Spike relaxes, and soon he seems to regain a large portion of his confidence in what they have. Even when they come up against their invariable issues with each other, Spike looks less like he thinks Wesley is going to break his heart in the next five seconds. He stops being so restless, which makes Wesley worry less that Spike's going to walk out for good. If Spike flirts a bit more with other people, Wesley might not like it but understands that he needs to feel less dependent. If Spike watches Wesley a bit more carefully when they're talking with Dawn... and then takes him to bed, or floor, or wall immediately afterwards, it's only to be expected.
Wesley resolves to call her more frequetly.
The end.
If I wrote this up as a full story I could coax a lot more angst - and smut - out of it, but that's never going to happen. An AU of an AU?
Gah, that was way longer than I expected it would be. Must run!
I do have a spare mental cycle now and again, though, and I've been thinking about an AU from the reality_bends fic wesleysgirl and I are working on. This is totally not canon.
Dawn's a major character in the fic we're writing, and what her relationship is with the boys is pretty much the crux of the story. They have to work out how they all fit together, if they even can. It's all very platonic but difficult nonetheless. Dawn has trouble understanding why they're together, and Spike and Wesley get new issues with each other that make them both hurt.
However, in this AU in my head Wes and Dawn go off together to do something spell-related, like going to a magic shop or bookstore or whatnot, and they have a really good time together. Dawn's smart and has gone from being petulant to much more fun and interesting, and Wes enjoys having a companion with whom he can talk about Watcherly things. Plus, he finds her big smile disarming. She's also pleased to find that he's not as stuffy as she thought he was, and he's not in a position of responsibility like Giles is so that they can just geek out for fun without other worries. They talk about all sorts of stuff, from Spike to spells, and it's a very good day. So neither of them is particularly surprised to find him/herself thinking fondly of the other as they walk back to the apartment. It's nice to feel happy and warm inside.
In the stairs on the way up, though, Dawn stops at a dim landing and looks at him. He looks back and finds himself itching to touch her long hair as it gleams in the shaft of light from the high, narrow window above them.
"I've had a good time with you today. I don't want it to end," she says.
He smiles. "It doesn't have to."
"I want to understand," she says, her voice soft.
"Understand what?" He doesn't move as she takes a step closer.
"What Spike sees in you. I know what I see, but I want to know what he sees. So I'll know in my heart why he's here."
Wesley knows that he probably ought to take offense, or at least ought to take a step back, since now he can smell her light floral perfume and the fruity tang of the smoothie she'd drunk on the way home, but he doesn't. He can't, not when her hand comes up to rest on his chest and she tips her face up to his. He hesitates for a second, but he doesn't know why he'd deny her the chance to understand Spike better.
They kiss. At first he stands there and lets her just press her mouth to his, but when she moves in against him and kisses him harder he loses his restraint. He pushes her against the wall, his hands firm on her slender body, over her soft sweater and then under as he devours her mouth. She clings to him, panting, gasping, moaning, as he palms her breasts and trails his mouth down her throat. He's desperate for her skin, but he can't move away far enough to remove any of her clothing. She seems to feel the same way, tugging at his shirt to get her hands underneath and wrapping one leg around his to pull him closer. They grapple with each other, eager and mindless, making little noises of encouragement and pleasure. Wesley manages to unfasten her bra and hitch her up the wall so that he can get his mouth on her breasts. She shudders and moans, wrapping her legs around his waist and rocking against him.
"I need... I need...," Dawn gasps, and he understands because he needs it, too. She's wearing a knee-length skirt, and he pulls it up, slipping his fingers beneath her underwear and pressing his fingers where she wants them most. In a few seconds she's orgasming, lost and gorgeous, and then she's fumbling at his belt. Her hands are awkward on his clothing, but once they wrap around his cock he doesn't care at all. A few seconds more and he's inside of her, his face buried against her neck and her legs around him again. She is so hot and slick and responsive, and he praises her again and again in broken phrases as he thrusts into her mindlessly. She moves with him as best she can, crying out once more as he falls over the edge, himself. It's the best orgasm he's ever had, powerful and all-consuming.
Wesley's hands are still shaking as he smoothes back her beautiful hair and kisses her with gentle thoroughness until they've both recovered their breath. Then he sets his hands on her waist - so tiny, he thinks, but so strong - and eases out of her. "I didn't think," he says when he realizes suddenly that there are precautions one needs with a woman. "Are you - ?"
"I'm on the pill," she says, smiling. She straightens her skirt and refastens her bra before walking over to kiss him once more. "Thank you. Now I see. Totally."
"Are you saying he loves me for my body?" he asks, and then reality hits him like an ice-cold tidal wave. He looks up the stairs in growing horror. He just had sex with Dawn. Dawn, not Spike, the person he loves. "Spike."
Her eyes grow huge. "Oh, god. He's up there."
Wesley looks between them. They look a bit rumpled, but to a vampire the smell will be an immediate sign. He thinks about going somewhere to shower - a gym, a hotel - but it's no use. He would have to tell Spike, regardless.
"There has to be something wrong with us," Dawn says. She turns back to him. She looks absolutely terrified. "Right?"
"Right. Of course." He tries to swallow the nausea that threatens to overwhelm him. "Under normal circumstances, we would never..." His voice gives out.
Dawn looks away, flushing as she nods. "Yeah. Never. I mean..."
Wesley forces himself to look at the situation from a logical perspective instead of the horror that is making his skin cold and his throat close up. He cannot afford to give into the very real panic inside of him. "We have to sort this out. Figure out what has happened and fix it."
"Yes." Dawn takes a step toward him. "We really do, because we... I..." Her eyes are damp with mute appeal, and he instinctively wraps his arms around her.
"It's all right, Dawn. We'll sort it out." She sniffles against his collar, and he finds himself pressing kisses to her hair before he realizes what he's going. "Oh, lord." He drops his arms, but it's much harder than it should be.
She frowns at him for an instant before comprehension floods her face and she backs up. "This is so not good."
Wesley can't help but agree. Even the thought of what Spike's reaction will be is enough to make him feel like he's going to vomit, but he keeps his face as neutral as he can and gestures for her to precede him up the stairs. They both walk up with their eyes straight ahead and their backs absolutely straight. If his hand finds itself at the small of her back as he unlocks the door neither of them mentions it.
Spike comes to greet them with a rant about being left alone for hours when the video game is on the fritz, though his eyes are warm with a smile that doesn't reach his mouth, but both he and the rant stop short. He looks between the two of them, going absolutely still. "What's this, then?" he drawls. "Couldn't wait to get to the bed?" He nods behind him. "Right over there, if you're ready for round two. Or is it three?"
Wesley can read the intense pain in Spike's eyes, and he immediately says, "There's something wrong."
"No shit," Spike responds flatly. "There's so much wrong I don't even know where to start. Wait. Yes, I do." His shock is turning to anger as he glares at Wesley. "You want a quick shag, there are millions of bloody women and men in this city. You don't do it with her." He points at Dawn but doesn't look at her.
"It wasn't a quick shag," Dawn insists, taking a step toward Wesley.
Spike still doesn't look in her direction, but he stiffens further at her movement. "Oh, well, that makes it all better, doesn't it?!" He spins away from them and starts to pace around the room.
"Spike, listen," Wesley says desperately. "We think... we don't know what we think, but we must be under some sort of spell or outside influence. You know we wouldn't do this on our own. And if we wanted to, wouldn't we at least speak with you first?"
Spike paces for a long minute, his jaw clenching and his movements jerky. When he turns to face them his face is as hard as Wesley has ever seen it. "You know, I'd be a hell of a lot more likely to believe you if you weren't holding hands."
Wesley and Dawn jerk away, both of them clearly unaware that they'd been touching.
Yadda yadda yadda, Spike calms down a bit and agrees that they're under some influence, but he makes them go take (separate) showers before he is willing to discuss the possibilities. He refuses to talk with Wesley about what happened, despite Wesley's pleading. They spend the evening researching, but Dawn and Wesley can't seem to stop touching each other, and Wesley finds himself complimenting Dawn on her abilities as he lets his thigh brush against hers beneath the table. Spike looks like he's crushed but refuses to admit it, eventually just walking out of the room. Wesley isn't sure how much of his affection toward Dawn was already there, since she is smart and enjoyable to work with, and how much is whatever is influencing them, but even if they start across the living room in ten minutes they're nearly in each other's laps again.
Saying good night to Dawn is one of the hardest things Wesley has ever had to do, and that's not even because it means he has to go into the bedroom to speak with Spike. Spike's awake, flipping listlessly through a heavy tome on his lap, and his eyes are dull as he glances up at Wesley for a split-second.
"I'm sorry," Wesley whispers after he undresses and crawls into bed beside him. He reaches out to put a hand on Spike's arm, but Spike flinches. Wesley lets his hand fall to the bed.
"You still smell like her," Spike says, turning to the next page.
"I'm sorry," Wesley says again.
"Not your fault. Apparently."
"Do you really think I'd do that to you? With her or with anyone?"
Spike doesn't say anything immediately, which is answer enough. Finally he says, "You like her."
"I do. Before today you were happy about that."
"She's smart, gorgeous, interested in everything you care about. She's perfect for you."
Wesley wishes he could touch Spike, even if a part of him is still itching for the taste of Dawn's skin. "She's not you."
Spike's reply is a sighed, "Exactly."
He refuses to engage in any more conversation that evening and doesn't curl around Wesley after he turns out the light. Wesley goes to sleep feeling empty and alone.
The next day the research continues. Dawn and Wesley get better about keeping their hands to themselves, especially after they find themselves grappling against the counter in the kitchen while they wait for their coffee, and Spike researches steadily but with little of his usual manic energy. Mid-afternoon Dawn goes out to fetch a spell component. Wesley itches to go with her, but he stays home and tries to seduce Spike instead.
It goes very, very badly. Spike shies away at first, but he gives in when Wesley all but begs him to kiss him. For a few minutes it seems like it's going well, since Spike turns quite possessive and pins Wesley on the floor, kissing him hard. But Spike's the only thing that's hard. Wesley's cock barely gets to half-mast no matter what Spike does. Spike finally pushes away from him and just walks out of the apartment. It's the middle of the afternoon, and Wesley worries about him out in the sun, but he worries more when he gets fully erect in seconds when Dawn returns. They spend the evening inching closer and closer together, and when Wesley has his hand down her slacks he knows with aching clarity that he's probably lost Spike for good.
The next day they break the spell - a compulsion cast upon them by a misguided, matchmaking warlock - and the three of them stare at each other from the edges of the ritual circle.
Dawn's the one who breaks the silence, standing up with grave dignity. "If this had to happen, I'm glad it was with you two. But I'm sorry about hurting you," she says, soft but honest, and goes into her room.
"Well," Spike says, rising to his own feet and smudging the chalk circle with the edge of his boot. "Better clean this up before the cat gets covered in it."
"Spike..." Now that the compulsion is gone, Wesley is even more desperate for Spike's touch than he was for Dawn's. He needs to know that they're okay, and he knows that they absolutely aren't.
"No harm done."
The dam bursts inside of Wesley, flooding him with warring emotions. "Have you lost your mind?" he asks. "No harm done?!"
Spike rocks back on his heels. "Just a phrase, Wes." His voice is so brittle it sounds like he's going to shatter at any moment.
Wesley walks over to him, anger and misery warring for expression. "I had sex with a woman nearly half my age, in whom I have no romantic interest. I was manipulated against my will both physically and mentally. I may have lost you. No harm done?"
Spike looks at him for a long moment, his mobile face clouded with doubt and hope and the familiar gleam of love. "You haven't lost me," he says gently. It looks like it hurts to say it.
"I hurt you," Wesley whispers. "So much, and I - " He doesn't know how to say how afraid he is that he's damaged their relationship for good... or what it might mean about what Spike was willing to accept if he hasn't.
"It was a spell, love."
The endearment makes Wesley's throat close up, and it takes him a second to reply. "You still have doubts."
"Not about the spell."
"About me. About what I want. You think she's better for me than you are."
Spike glances away, back toward Dawn's room. "Some ways she is."
"She's not you," Wesley says.
Still looking brittle, Spike repeats what he said two nights before, "Exactly."
Wesley leans in and feels his chest tighten with joy as Spike allows a gentle kiss. "Exactly," he murmurs against Spike's mouth and kisses him again.
The rest of the day is awkward. Dawn goes out and leaves them alone for a while, which lets them have a bit of kissing and a lot of trying to act like things are normal. She apologizes to Spike, who tells her not to worry about it and at least she's got good taste. Wes apologizes to her, and she tells him not to worry about it... and that at least they had fun. Could've been worse, right? They both have a much-needed if slightly awkward laugh. Wes and Spike don't talk much, but Wes makes sure that his attention is fully focused on Spike instead of her. The return to normalcy seems to heal the worst edges of the raw pain.
At night Wesley takes charge and coaxes three orgasms from Spike, leaving them both numb and sated. They both give Dawn big hugs when she leaves for the airport the next afternoon. Day by day Spike relaxes, and soon he seems to regain a large portion of his confidence in what they have. Even when they come up against their invariable issues with each other, Spike looks less like he thinks Wesley is going to break his heart in the next five seconds. He stops being so restless, which makes Wesley worry less that Spike's going to walk out for good. If Spike flirts a bit more with other people, Wesley might not like it but understands that he needs to feel less dependent. If Spike watches Wesley a bit more carefully when they're talking with Dawn... and then takes him to bed, or floor, or wall immediately afterwards, it's only to be expected.
Wesley resolves to call her more frequetly.
The end.
If I wrote this up as a full story I could coax a lot more angst - and smut - out of it, but that's never going to happen. An AU of an AU?
Gah, that was way longer than I expected it would be. Must run!