I don't know what it is, but everything that Wes says seems to rub me the wrong way.
And I *know* that's not what he's trying to do, so I fully turn away from Connor and try to look at him more critically, or carefully. He's even doing the glasses polishing. That usually is saved for embarrassing things, right? But he looks more worried than embarrassed. I think.
"So we'll carry him on our fronts?" I say gently reaching out for his hand to pull him closer. "What's wrong, Wes?" You're extra fidgety, I want to say, but somehow I don't think that's going to come across right.
"I don't care who buys the stuff...I just want to be able to sleep next to my boyfriend and know that I'm not going to traumatize or crush my son. You know I'm a heavy sleeper," I say, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles and looking up at him. Maybe it irks me a little that he thinks I'm not allowed to buy anything for my own son, but he's right, it's not like I have much experience with kids.
"Is there any work I can help with?" I ask as well, hoping to lighten his mental load. I'm oddly more worried about him than my own mental 'freaking out' about having a child right now. That can wait. I need Wes steady. Can't do this without *my* anchor.
"On our fron--" On our fronts? I don't know, but whenever I go out I don't see anyone walking with babies on their backs *or* fronts. Where does he get these ideas? Am I missing something here? Some huge pink elephant that's stomping around in the room. I get the feeling I'm missing something here. And apparently something's-- wrong?
What? What's wrong. What-- what did I do wrong this time? Was it something I said? I did? Did I not look the right way? I obviously did something wrong because he's reaching out for me to pull me close. He never does that unless he thinks I'm in some sort of need. Comforting, or soothing, or something similar. Which I'm not, we're talking about huge things here, buying things we don't know anything about.
Frowning, I slide my glasses back on my nose and let him pull me closer. "I-- Uh--" Well, if he doesn't care who buys the stuff, then we could ask Lorne to get one of those foldable beds right? Then we wont have to face the wrath of Mount Saint Cordelia. And I'm the one who usually bears that brunt, because for some reason Gunn and Angel always find 'something important' to do when she's of on a rant. And this? Oh, this'll be one big evil rant. If she doesn't get to buy the important stuff that is.
Actually, come to think of it, she should go shopping with Angel. It's his son, he should be the one to buy Connor's things. And with Cordelia there we can at least be sure its not going to be all black, or dark.
"What? No, no, just-- just catching up on the paperwork. A lot of paperwork," I sigh the latter, thinking of the many, many things that had been kept laying about while we were on vacation. Haven't done much of it when we came back either. "Some translation work as well. Uhm, Angel? Do you want go buy a foldable bed then or let Lorne buy it? Because your boyfriend is currently getting a little bit confused," I say, a hand coming up to rub my forehead.
I look at him confused. He did the glasses polishing. That usually means something other than that his glasses need to be cleaned. Well, maybe I should just let him have some time to himself so he can get caught up on work and not be worrying about that.
"Okay, Lorne can buy it," I say releasing his hand reluctantly and still confused by why this might be so complicated. But I'll play along. "You...go ahead and work. If you're sure there's nothing I can help with, I'll keep an eye on Connor. We'll bring you some lunch later," I add, knowing he'll say we don't have to. "Maybe Connor and I will do some cleaning and laundry," I muse, trailing off when my eyes hit the bag of things I bought for him.
"Oh. Umm. Hold on, I have a couple presents for you. You know, I was out shopping before Darla got here..." I trail off, getting up from the bed to grab the bag. "To make up for your ripped clothing," I murmur, handing him the bag tentatively with the heart boxers and the dark green button-up shirt.
"Alright," I nod, that confused look still on my face. Only this time it's because of his plans for the days. Or rather, him skipping past our conversation and onto his plans for the day. "I'll ask Lorne if he'd get one of those then."
More nodding when he goes about explaining that he could do the laundry and my mind is already whirling on about how he'll manage there, where will he put Connor, and how can he make Lunch while carrying Connor and maybe he shouldn't, "You really needn't bother with any lunch," I murmur, hoping to at least unburden him from that task.
Goodness, I only just now realize. With Connor around Angel will really have to completely give up his night living habits. That'll be difficult, we might have an antsy, restless vampire on our hands during the days.
"Alright. Well, I'll just go-- Oh. What?" Funny how I cannot help but cringe everytime the name 'Darla' is said out loud. My main focus is on the bag Angel holds out to me though. Blinking, I stare at him, frown, then look at the bag before looking up at Angel again.
"For me?" Isn't that sweet, even though he did owe me those clothes. A shirt and a pair of boxers if I'm not mistaken. "Thank you, love," I whisper, leaning in to kiss his cheek as I take the bag. With utmost care I open it and peer inside. The first item is a lovely green button-up shirt, making me think that Angel does have other tastes then black.
"Oh my," I murmur, putting it carefully on a nearby chair, "that is lovely, Angel," I tell him as I reach into the bag for the last item. My eyes move away from his face to look at what else he's gotten me and... Freeze.
One eyebrow rises as I hold up fully in front of me. Hearts. On my boxers. Hearts. Red hearts even. Slowly I lower it so my eyes are staring over the waistband of the thing, but is hiding the smile that's threatening to come out. "Is there something you'd like to tell me, Angel?" I ask, barely able to keep the amusement out of my voice. No one, and I mean *no* one will ever get to see these. Ever. Except Angel.
Okay, I'm a little nervous about giving him the clothes. I mean, they're not exactly books, so he's probably not going to be all that into them. But I hope he doesn't hate them. I know he thinks it's weird when Cordy packs for him and buys him things. I hope he doesn't think I don't like what he wears. I mean, I like what Cordy buys him, that's for sure, because it actually shows off his assets, but I don't hate his clothes. Especially considering the amount of time I get to see him out of them.
So I wait patiently while he pulls the things out of the bag, my ears trained back on Connor, and glad that I somehow managed to avoid an argument or miscommunication or just more confusion with this turn of events.
Whew, definitely relieved when I see his face light up at the green shirt. It's going to be a great color on the guy. I'll have to take him out for dinner in it...once we get settled into a routine. ...And I can convince myself to leave the hotel without Connor.
Grinning when he kisses me, I wait with even more rapt attention while he puts aside the shirt and pulls out the boxers.
Priceless. That look on his face, I only wish Cordy and the others could see it, because he just looks so damn adorable. I grin back at him over the top edge of the boxers.
"Might be," I murmur, standing with a grin and tugging the boxers out my way to lean in over the top for a kiss. "Probably something along the lines of: I love you," I murmur against his lips, letting some fake breath tickle his skin. "Love you a lot." I add, eyes dancing with delight, I guess the look on my face might be called.
That grin on is face is worth just about anything. I love seeing Angel smile in any sort of capacity. But this grin, this amused 'I did something right' grin ranks up to one of my favorites. I can feel my own smile grow just by looking at his. This is well worth boxers with hears on them. This is well worth *wearing* a pair of boxers with little red hearts on it.
"Oh?" I ask, staying where I am while he leans in. "That's a most original and unique way of saying such." Something that would have never gotten into my head. Which isn't to say that I don't love the gifts, this one in particular. I love this gift and if I didn't think it would make me look like some sort of eager sad little puppy, I'd be changing into this pair on the spot. The shirt probably as well.
For now I have better things to do though. Kissing Angel is always a better thing to do. Even if we can't get carried away, because unlike before I'm very keenly aware that Connor is right there on the bed. The moment his lips touch mine though, my mind goes blank. Especially when I see the look of pure delight happiness? in those soft, brown eyes.
One hand comes up to cup the back of his head, fingers tickling that smooth skin on his neck. My eyes close automatically, despite the lovely view as I tilt my head. Without hesitation my lips part to let his tongue slip in. My own does a little tasting of it's own, a groan slipping out and being muffled by our mouths. Air finally becomes an issue and I have to pull back to breathe. I think I may be swooning, how very unbecoming.
"Thank you, Angel," I say quietly, "these are lovely. Maybe there's something to this idea of yours to rip all my clothes just to get me a new wardrobe..." I can't believe I just said that. In front of Connor even. Good lord.
"I'm just glad you like them," I add before leaning over those boxers that I know are going to be so cute on him for my kiss. I think we can put this kiss into the very, very sweet and nice category, because that is very much what it is, I think as Wes' hand plays at the nape of my neck, definitely keeping it from ending all too soon. Can't say I blame him. I seem to be doing the same thing, only with kissing him ardently, tongue sliding against his intently.
I do get a pretty groan for my trouble even though we have to stop, Wes pulling away with his mouth shining and swollen. I reach up without thought, tracing those pretty lips. They're just so...attractive. Moth to a flame sort type of thing, only without the flame part of the deal with the burning and the dying for me anyway.
Chuckling at his words, I rub my hand over his back. "Is that a hint that you might accept a new wardrobe? Better not say that too loudly, because if Cordy is with two miles, she'll be here dragging you off to the mall before we know it," I say grinning.
"Gonna try them on?" I ask hopefully. I would like to see the shirt on him even if he doesn't wear it all day. And I think it would be plain cute to know he's got little hearts on his boxers all day. Because of me, I think with a broad smile.
"Oh there's nothing wrong with my wardrobe," I say, dropping my voice as I glance over at Connor to make sure he's asleep. "But since you seem to like this whole ripping clothes of my frame..." My eyes move back from watching Connor to look at Angel, besotted smile still in place.
Well, it's true. Angel can get a little impatient at times and then he does things like that. I'd better not let on how much it thrills *me* when he does that. Though, I suppose Angel already knows. And if it gets me gifts like these? When he's looking at me like *that*? I'm sure I don't mind one bit.
Except for the part where Cordelia would drag me out for a shopping spree. Good lord, anything but that.
I keep grinning at his grin, so much in fact I almost mist what he's saying. "Hmmm?" What? Oh! Try them on. Them? But I just got dressed? He's looking so hopeful though that it's impossible for me to say no. I mean, who could say no to that eager puppy dog look when he's not trying to gain something devious? And usually nakedness.
"Alright," I smile, handing the boxers over to him. Once again I glance at Connor to make sure the boy's asleep before unbuttoning my shirt and leaving it open as I take care of my slacks and boxers. Then I pull my shirt off and reach out for the boxers with my other hand.
"Angel?" I ask, wondering what he's looking at. Wiggling my fingers I give the boxers he's holding a pointed look.
That gets a chuckle out of me. Wes definitely inspires my baser instincts. Though, I'd try not to do it if I didn't think Wes liked it. Liked it a lot Id say from the smell of arousal I usually get when it happens. I think he likes my baser instincts. And if that makes me smirk a little, well... I can't really help it, especially not with Wes smiling about it so widely.
I've missed that smile since Darla came. It's been pretty damn absent, but it seems to be back now for the moment, even if he does keep glancing nervously over my shoulder.
And I can't help grinning even more when he says he'll try on the clothes. Taking the boxers from him, I fully expect him to wander off shyly to the bathroom, so when he starts unbuttoning his shirt right then and there... Yeah, I'm gaping a little. But not in a bad way. Not in a bad way at all.
And then in one smooth gesture, he's naked. Bare. Casually standing right there in front of me with no clothes on-- and I didn't have to beg or ask or anything. And with Connor in the room even! Even if I weren't busy taking my time staring, I'd be too shocked to hand him the boxers anyway.
My gaze travels up every inch of skin, pausing for quite awhile around the middle of him. "Mm," I murmur and then blink, remembering that we can't get carried away again. God, but that's a nice view. Gorgeous, beautiful and every other adjective that would say I find him attractive, actually.
"Hmm?" I say, eyes snapping up to his when I finally hear my name. "Oh, yeah, here," I murmur, still awestruck, handing over the boxers reluctantly.
So much for quickly changing. What is he looking at? It's making me nervous for some reason. Add the fact that I'm afraid that Connor will wake up again, I'm staring to fidget when he doesn't hand over the boxers right away. It's also getting a bit cold, standing here.... naked. Oh. Oh!
Good lord, that's what he's staring at? I can feel a flush creep up my body when I notice those eyes lingering when they reach certain parts of my body. "Angel?" I try again, very much getting the urge to either dart into the bathroom or grab my other boxers and just get dressed again. God, I hope Connor doesn't wake up again.
Angel finally seems to snap out of it, though I'm confused by the look of awe in his eyes. What's that about? I doubt a boxers with hearts on it would evoke such a reaction. Not my blushing skin, by now having turned the color off an overly ripe tomato.
"Thank you," I murmur, giving him a shy smile. I don't think I've ever put on a pair of boxers this fast. They seem to fit just fine, a little bit to big maybe. But then again, everything seems to big for me. I'm actually amazed that Cordelia is always able to find things that *fit* for me.
I smooth down the boxers and reach for the shirt. Angel's still staring, making me smile at him, still in that nervously shy way. The shirt, amazingly, doesn't seem to large. I just have to roll up the cuffs a bit, like with almost every other shirt and it fits fine. "Feels very nice," I say, running the flat of my hand over my chest, touching the fabric. "How does it look?"
There is a definite feeling in my groin area when Wes smooths his hands over the shirt. And when he rolls up the cuffs to reveal those slender wrists and forearms, that feeling in my groin could definitely be called a stirring.
This must be the equivalent of buying a man lingerie, because right now all I want to do is rip that shirt off of him.
I'd thought it was just going to be a normal everyday men's shirt, but this one seems to fit. It makes his shoulders not look too big or too small - something that happens to Wes a lot - and it seems to taper in in a barely noticeable way, but one that shows just how slender his waist is and fit he's gotten to be. Even on top of those silly boxers, he looks... hot. Hot in a way that he would not be going to Caritas without an escort. And pants of course.
Eventually, I manage to remember that I'm staring and I flick my eyes up to Wes' stepping in closer to run my hand across his shoulders and down his chest. "Gorgeous. You look sexy in it, Wes," I murmur. "Guess I shouldn't buy you clothes I want to rip off...to make up for the ones I already ripped off," I say with a bit of a smirk, still smoothing my hands over him, unnecessarily straightening his collar - I'm trying to be good, I'm really trying not to start something even though my body is quite clearly remembering what we were doing just a few moments ago and I'm still half naked, because I know we shouldn't.
My fingers trail down along the insides of his arms and wrists. "I like it," I tell him, satisfied smirk still in place. "The boxers too," and that gets him a grin.
Why is he staring at me like-- like that? It's making me extremely nervous. It's that intense stare that makes me think he's seeing right *through* me, looking into my very soul. Which would be over-exaggerating, I know. But I really wish I knew what he was staring at?
"Angel?" I try again, when those eyes start to roam over me in a way that should not have me responding in a certain way. Or rather, have my body responding in a certain way. We can't have that, can't do that, not here. Not with Connor in the room. Must be more careful, cannot have that happening again. Then the boy will *really* be traumatized.
I'm temped to snap my fingers in front of his eyes when he finally shakes himself out of his trance. There's a grin on his face that makes me shiver, especially when he scoots even closer. If he'd been reflecting body heat I'd be able to feel it by now, he's that close. Good lord.
"Oh..." I breathe when he runs his hands over the shirt, my body. My eyes blink up at him and it's only *after* the fact that his words register. When they finally do, I force myself to take a step back, out of his reach with a firm, warning, "Angel."
For one, I know the two of us. We *will* get carried away when we do things like these. It's going to take some practice for the both of us to not do that. As for another? I *like* this shirt dammit. "No clothes ripping," I tell him sternly, though there's a twinkle in my eyes. "At least no new ones, and most definitely not here, right now. And I *like* this shirt and the boxers." I should probably get to work, it's not going to be done by itself.
And I *know* that's not what he's trying to do, so I fully turn away from Connor and try to look at him more critically, or carefully. He's even doing the glasses polishing. That usually is saved for embarrassing things, right? But he looks more worried than embarrassed. I think.
"So we'll carry him on our fronts?" I say gently reaching out for his hand to pull him closer. "What's wrong, Wes?" You're extra fidgety, I want to say, but somehow I don't think that's going to come across right.
"I don't care who buys the stuff...I just want to be able to sleep next to my boyfriend and know that I'm not going to traumatize or crush my son. You know I'm a heavy sleeper," I say, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles and looking up at him. Maybe it irks me a little that he thinks I'm not allowed to buy anything for my own son, but he's right, it's not like I have much experience with kids.
"Is there any work I can help with?" I ask as well, hoping to lighten his mental load. I'm oddly more worried about him than my own mental 'freaking out' about having a child right now. That can wait. I need Wes steady. Can't do this without *my* anchor.
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What? What's wrong. What-- what did I do wrong this time? Was it something I said? I did? Did I not look the right way? I obviously did something wrong because he's reaching out for me to pull me close. He never does that unless he thinks I'm in some sort of need. Comforting, or soothing, or something similar. Which I'm not, we're talking about huge things here, buying things we don't know anything about.
Frowning, I slide my glasses back on my nose and let him pull me closer. "I-- Uh--" Well, if he doesn't care who buys the stuff, then we could ask Lorne to get one of those foldable beds right? Then we wont have to face the wrath of Mount Saint Cordelia. And I'm the one who usually bears that brunt, because for some reason Gunn and Angel always find 'something important' to do when she's of on a rant. And this? Oh, this'll be one big evil rant. If she doesn't get to buy the important stuff that is.
Actually, come to think of it, she should go shopping with Angel. It's his son, he should be the one to buy Connor's things. And with Cordelia there we can at least be sure its not going to be all black, or dark.
"What? No, no, just-- just catching up on the paperwork. A lot of paperwork," I sigh the latter, thinking of the many, many things that had been kept laying about while we were on vacation. Haven't done much of it when we came back either. "Some translation work as well. Uhm, Angel? Do you want go buy a foldable bed then or let Lorne buy it? Because your boyfriend is currently getting a little bit confused," I say, a hand coming up to rub my forehead.
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I look at him confused. He did the glasses polishing. That usually means something other than that his glasses need to be cleaned. Well, maybe I should just let him have some time to himself so he can get caught up on work and not be worrying about that.
"Okay, Lorne can buy it," I say releasing his hand reluctantly and still confused by why this might be so complicated. But I'll play along. "You...go ahead and work. If you're sure there's nothing I can help with, I'll keep an eye on Connor. We'll bring you some lunch later," I add, knowing he'll say we don't have to. "Maybe Connor and I will do some cleaning and laundry," I muse, trailing off when my eyes hit the bag of things I bought for him.
"Oh. Umm. Hold on, I have a couple presents for you. You know, I was out shopping before Darla got here..." I trail off, getting up from the bed to grab the bag. "To make up for your ripped clothing," I murmur, handing him the bag tentatively with the heart boxers and the dark green button-up shirt.
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More nodding when he goes about explaining that he could do the laundry and my mind is already whirling on about how he'll manage there, where will he put Connor, and how can he make Lunch while carrying Connor and maybe he shouldn't, "You really needn't bother with any lunch," I murmur, hoping to at least unburden him from that task.
Goodness, I only just now realize. With Connor around Angel will really have to completely give up his night living habits. That'll be difficult, we might have an antsy, restless vampire on our hands during the days.
"Alright. Well, I'll just go-- Oh. What?" Funny how I cannot help but cringe everytime the name 'Darla' is said out loud. My main focus is on the bag Angel holds out to me though. Blinking, I stare at him, frown, then look at the bag before looking up at Angel again.
"For me?" Isn't that sweet, even though he did owe me those clothes. A shirt and a pair of boxers if I'm not mistaken. "Thank you, love," I whisper, leaning in to kiss his cheek as I take the bag. With utmost care I open it and peer inside. The first item is a lovely green button-up shirt, making me think that Angel does have other tastes then black.
"Oh my," I murmur, putting it carefully on a nearby chair, "that is lovely, Angel," I tell him as I reach into the bag for the last item. My eyes move away from his face to look at what else he's gotten me and... Freeze.
One eyebrow rises as I hold up fully in front of me. Hearts. On my boxers. Hearts. Red hearts even. Slowly I lower it so my eyes are staring over the waistband of the thing, but is hiding the smile that's threatening to come out. "Is there something you'd like to tell me, Angel?" I ask, barely able to keep the amusement out of my voice. No one, and I mean *no* one will ever get to see these. Ever. Except Angel.
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So I wait patiently while he pulls the things out of the bag, my ears trained back on Connor, and glad that I somehow managed to avoid an argument or miscommunication or just more confusion with this turn of events.
Whew, definitely relieved when I see his face light up at the green shirt. It's going to be a great color on the guy. I'll have to take him out for dinner in it...once we get settled into a routine. ...And I can convince myself to leave the hotel without Connor.
Grinning when he kisses me, I wait with even more rapt attention while he puts aside the shirt and pulls out the boxers.
Priceless. That look on his face, I only wish Cordy and the others could see it, because he just looks so damn adorable. I grin back at him over the top edge of the boxers.
"Might be," I murmur, standing with a grin and tugging the boxers out my way to lean in over the top for a kiss. "Probably something along the lines of: I love you," I murmur against his lips, letting some fake breath tickle his skin. "Love you a lot." I add, eyes dancing with delight, I guess the look on my face might be called.
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"Oh?" I ask, staying where I am while he leans in. "That's a most original and unique way of saying such." Something that would have never gotten into my head. Which isn't to say that I don't love the gifts, this one in particular. I love this gift and if I didn't think it would make me look like some sort of eager sad little puppy, I'd be changing into this pair on the spot. The shirt probably as well.
For now I have better things to do though. Kissing Angel is always a better thing to do. Even if we can't get carried away, because unlike before I'm very keenly aware that Connor is right there on the bed. The moment his lips touch mine though, my mind goes blank. Especially when I see the look of pure delight happiness? in those soft, brown eyes.
One hand comes up to cup the back of his head, fingers tickling that smooth skin on his neck. My eyes close automatically, despite the lovely view as I tilt my head. Without hesitation my lips part to let his tongue slip in. My own does a little tasting of it's own, a groan slipping out and being muffled by our mouths. Air finally becomes an issue and I have to pull back to breathe. I think I may be swooning, how very unbecoming.
"Thank you, Angel," I say quietly, "these are lovely. Maybe there's something to this idea of yours to rip all my clothes just to get me a new wardrobe..." I can't believe I just said that. In front of Connor even. Good lord.
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I do get a pretty groan for my trouble even though we have to stop, Wes pulling away with his mouth shining and swollen. I reach up without thought, tracing those pretty lips. They're just so...attractive. Moth to a flame sort type of thing, only without the flame part of the deal with the burning and the dying for me anyway.
Chuckling at his words, I rub my hand over his back. "Is that a hint that you might accept a new wardrobe? Better not say that too loudly, because if Cordy is with two miles, she'll be here dragging you off to the mall before we know it," I say grinning.
"Gonna try them on?" I ask hopefully. I would like to see the shirt on him even if he doesn't wear it all day. And I think it would be plain cute to know he's got little hearts on his boxers all day. Because of me, I think with a broad smile.
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Well, it's true. Angel can get a little impatient at times and then he does things like that. I'd better not let on how much it thrills *me* when he does that. Though, I suppose Angel already knows. And if it gets me gifts like these? When he's looking at me like *that*? I'm sure I don't mind one bit.
Except for the part where Cordelia would drag me out for a shopping spree. Good lord, anything but that.
I keep grinning at his grin, so much in fact I almost mist what he's saying. "Hmmm?" What? Oh! Try them on. Them? But I just got dressed? He's looking so hopeful though that it's impossible for me to say no. I mean, who could say no to that eager puppy dog look when he's not trying to gain something devious? And usually nakedness.
"Alright," I smile, handing the boxers over to him. Once again I glance at Connor to make sure the boy's asleep before unbuttoning my shirt and leaving it open as I take care of my slacks and boxers. Then I pull my shirt off and reach out for the boxers with my other hand.
"Angel?" I ask, wondering what he's looking at. Wiggling my fingers I give the boxers he's holding a pointed look.
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I've missed that smile since Darla came. It's been pretty damn absent, but it seems to be back now for the moment, even if he does keep glancing nervously over my shoulder.
And I can't help grinning even more when he says he'll try on the clothes. Taking the boxers from him, I fully expect him to wander off shyly to the bathroom, so when he starts unbuttoning his shirt right then and there... Yeah, I'm gaping a little. But not in a bad way. Not in a bad way at all.
And then in one smooth gesture, he's naked. Bare. Casually standing right there in front of me with no clothes on-- and I didn't have to beg or ask or anything. And with Connor in the room even! Even if I weren't busy taking my time staring, I'd be too shocked to hand him the boxers anyway.
My gaze travels up every inch of skin, pausing for quite awhile around the middle of him. "Mm," I murmur and then blink, remembering that we can't get carried away again. God, but that's a nice view. Gorgeous, beautiful and every other adjective that would say I find him attractive, actually.
"Hmm?" I say, eyes snapping up to his when I finally hear my name. "Oh, yeah, here," I murmur, still awestruck, handing over the boxers reluctantly.
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Good lord, that's what he's staring at? I can feel a flush creep up my body when I notice those eyes lingering when they reach certain parts of my body. "Angel?" I try again, very much getting the urge to either dart into the bathroom or grab my other boxers and just get dressed again. God, I hope Connor doesn't wake up again.
Angel finally seems to snap out of it, though I'm confused by the look of awe in his eyes. What's that about? I doubt a boxers with hearts on it would evoke such a reaction. Not my blushing skin, by now having turned the color off an overly ripe tomato.
"Thank you," I murmur, giving him a shy smile. I don't think I've ever put on a pair of boxers this fast. They seem to fit just fine, a little bit to big maybe. But then again, everything seems to big for me. I'm actually amazed that Cordelia is always able to find things that *fit* for me.
I smooth down the boxers and reach for the shirt. Angel's still staring, making me smile at him, still in that nervously shy way. The shirt, amazingly, doesn't seem to large. I just have to roll up the cuffs a bit, like with almost every other shirt and it fits fine. "Feels very nice," I say, running the flat of my hand over my chest, touching the fabric. "How does it look?"
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This must be the equivalent of buying a man lingerie, because right now all I want to do is rip that shirt off of him.
I'd thought it was just going to be a normal everyday men's shirt, but this one seems to fit. It makes his shoulders not look too big or too small - something that happens to Wes a lot - and it seems to taper in in a barely noticeable way, but one that shows just how slender his waist is and fit he's gotten to be. Even on top of those silly boxers, he looks... hot. Hot in a way that he would not be going to Caritas without an escort. And pants of course.
Eventually, I manage to remember that I'm staring and I flick my eyes up to Wes' stepping in closer to run my hand across his shoulders and down his chest. "Gorgeous. You look sexy in it, Wes," I murmur. "Guess I shouldn't buy you clothes I want to rip off...to make up for the ones I already ripped off," I say with a bit of a smirk, still smoothing my hands over him, unnecessarily straightening his collar - I'm trying to be good, I'm really trying not to start something even though my body is quite clearly remembering what we were doing just a few moments ago and I'm still half naked, because I know we shouldn't.
My fingers trail down along the insides of his arms and wrists. "I like it," I tell him, satisfied smirk still in place. "The boxers too," and that gets him a grin.
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"Angel?" I try again, when those eyes start to roam over me in a way that should not have me responding in a certain way. Or rather, have my body responding in a certain way. We can't have that, can't do that, not here. Not with Connor in the room. Must be more careful, cannot have that happening again. Then the boy will *really* be traumatized.
I'm temped to snap my fingers in front of his eyes when he finally shakes himself out of his trance. There's a grin on his face that makes me shiver, especially when he scoots even closer. If he'd been reflecting body heat I'd be able to feel it by now, he's that close. Good lord.
"Oh..." I breathe when he runs his hands over the shirt, my body. My eyes blink up at him and it's only *after* the fact that his words register. When they finally do, I force myself to take a step back, out of his reach with a firm, warning, "Angel."
For one, I know the two of us. We *will* get carried away when we do things like these. It's going to take some practice for the both of us to not do that. As for another? I *like* this shirt dammit. "No clothes ripping," I tell him sternly, though there's a twinkle in my eyes. "At least no new ones, and most definitely not here, right now. And I *like* this shirt and the boxers." I should probably get to work, it's not going to be done by itself.
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