RP LOG with shoothetarget | She has a heart?
[Follows THIS, THIS and THIS]
Ever since Fox did her fucking zombie routine and came back from the dead, she and Wesley had fallen into a sort of weird domestic scenario... only not. Neither of them could ever be comfortably termed domestic and they would probably put a bullet in anyone's head if they suggested they were that together. But they had an apartment together, and they fucked when they felt like it, Fox went to her job at the tattoo place, and Wesley went to his as a bartender a few nights a week just to stop him crawling the walls and taking a gun to his own head. It was something to do, but that didn't mean the job made him all fucking squishy and warm inside. It didn't. He needed more. He had just yet to decide what the more was and the bar was a pay packet. But they existed together, both trying to pretend they weren't antsy without the commitments of the Fraternity. That urge to just shoot the shit out of something was in them both, but so far, they had coped okay, and six months into the arrangement, they still hadn't killed each other. It worked. It had become their norm.
That is, it was the norm until Fox came home being weird. Wesley stood in the kitchen trying to dig overcooked spaghetti off the bottom of the pot. He had decided to try and become Gordon Ramsey when she seemed to go MIA for a few nights. He was going to cook the most awesome fucking spag bol known to man, until he completely fucked it up, burned the pasta and realised he forgot to actually buy meat, and he wasn't even sure what meat was supposed to go in spag bol anyway. He was roughly trying to gouge the burnt soggy mess from the pot when he watched Fox in the living room, pulling her leather jacket off and throwing her keys onto the coffee table. She had only been home a short time, and so far, all the conversation that had passed between them was her pulling the piss out of him for being in the vicinity of an operating stove. "You got fucked," he finally realised when the penny dropped and he looked at her questioningly, eyebrow raised. "Well fucked."
Fox glanced up at him as she smirked, and moved through the living room to stand against the kitchen counter as she watched him struggle with the ruined pasta. "You would know that look," she replied eventually as she arched an eyebrow in turn. Not that they'd done it recently. Not since the day before she met Rob. As much as the soldier had been a one night stand, something in her had stopped her from automatically going back to Wesley.
Wesley snorted and gave the pasta a particularly hard shove and sent a large glob of it flying into the kitchen window, where it slid down the glass and plopped onto the window sill. It was enough to make Wesley lose his patience and he dropped the pot loudly into the sink and gave up. "That's all you're gonna say? Like I give a fuck about that look. You wanted to bang me, you came looking for me to fucking bang me," he had the pleasure of reminding her and then shrugged. "Well? What is he? A serial killer? Escaped crim? Or did you do a chick? Fuuuuck, if you did a chick and didn't let me watch, I'll shoot you in the head myself and I won't miss."
"And I thought you didn't want me taking your cock for granted, or for this to just be about sex." Fox narrowed her eyes as they flashed dangerously, and she ignored the streak of pasta on the kitchen window. She stayed where she was, knowing if she moved in closer to Wesley she'd just wind up punching him in the face. "Are you trying to tell me you're jealous? That you feel like I cheated on you? I wasn't aware I was your fucking wife, Wesley. I don't recall ever agreeing to be Mrs Gibson. I don't recall a moment when we agreed that we were anything other than friends with benefits. If my memory sucks that fucking much, then how about you remind me?" She continued to glare at him, and her lip curled back in a sneer. "He's Army. A sniper. I didn't do a fucking chick, so don't go getting your panties in a twist. I don't have the patience for women."
Wesley looked at her and then started to laugh. "What? Are you..." He cut off, leaning forward a little as he started to laugh harder. "No, I'm not fucking jealous. You would like that, wouldn't you? Me sitting here pining over you? I just asked who the fuck he was. Isn't that what friends do? Talk? You don't show up for two nights, for the first time since you wanted to shack up with me. I was curious where the fuck you were. How am I supposed to know you aren't gonna try and shove another bullet through your fucking skull? But fine. You don't want to tell me, don't fucking tell me. I don't give a shit," he said with a shrug, moving to the fridge and grabbing out a beer. He watched her in amusement as she tried to get her bitch on with him. It wouldn't be the first time. When she finally revealed details, he felt his lips flicker in an attempt not to laugh. "Army? Sniper? You really do have a fetish for dudes with big fucking guns, don't you?"
"Then what was with the fucking reminder?" Fox asked as she relaxed and moved into the kitchen properly to grab her own beer since Wesley wasn't even going to get one for her. She turned around as she held onto it with one hand before ruffling his hair with the other as she gave him a smirk. "Of course you give a shit. You don't have anyone but me, so you need details. You really should work on getting yourself out there, Gibson. No wonder you got stuck with the same shrivelled pussy girlfriend. Too scared to actually dump her and go find someone else." Fox popped the cap off her beer, and started to laugh. "Do I look like a fucking candidate for suicide now? I'm just peachy keen. Couldn't be happier. And yes, I really do have a fetish, and yes, he does have a fucking big 'gun'."
Wesley took a long gulp of his beer and continued to analyse her. "To be fair, you didn't fucking look like a candidate for suicide back then, either," he pointed out, leaning against the counter. He knew he had been using Fox as a reason not to actually get out there all that much. He met chicks in the bar he worked, had a better tendency to flirt these days than he did in the past, but as long as he had Fox here to come home to for a good hard, fuck, there didn't seem much point pulling elsewhere. Maybe it was a good thing she had made the first move. They never would survive in a relationship. They would take each other out in a bloody mess. They definitely weren't exclusive, but it had gotten easy and comfortable. The last thing he needed was to fall into his rut tendencies that he harboured in the past. Still, it really was surprising for him to hear Fox had pulled. More for the fact that she didn't trust anyone. "Two nights you were gone. Were you with him both nights?"
"It was the right thing to do, not suicide." Fox let out a huff, and wondered how she was ever going to explain it so that he understood. It was past, and she was still here and alive. It seemed like a moot point even if he kept insisting on bring it up. She couldn't deny that things had become somewhat comfortable between them, but she'd never been able to commit to the idea of a relationship with Wesley. They really would destroy each other. With Rob it was different, and she still wasn't quite sure why other than she'd rather keep fucking him, than kill him. "Yes. And twice at the tattoo parlour," she revealed since Wesley wanted the details. "I inked his ass. And no, that's not a metaphor. I didn't think I'd see him again, but then he just happened to show up... Last night was the first night we stayed in the same bed. I was at his hotel room."
"Fate," Wesley offered quietly, eyes locked on her face for a reaction. "You stayed in the dude's bed, a second night? What... you..." He looked at her with a small laugh. "Wow. He didn't drug you, did he? Or do you just automatically trust military because of their undying loyalty to this wonderful country?" he added sarcastically, putting a hand on his heart. "I feel like breaking out into 'God Bless America'."
Fox blinked, her eyes widening briefly in the only reaction he was going to see. "Might just have to put a bullet in your head if you do," she warned. "It's not about him being a soldier, it's about him being... Fuck, I don't know how to explain it. Think about the first time you realised what you could do. The first time you realised just what the fuck you were capable of... It feels kind of like that when I'm with him."
Wesley snorted with a laugh and shook his head. "Oh come on. That's hardly a fair comparison. You fucking wouldn't let me stop until you moulded me and if I fucked up, you beat the shit out of me. You need to find another fucking metaphor unless he smashed your face into a wall every time you fucking came," he told her, pointing to her with his beer. "What's different about him?" he finally asked, really not sure he was following her. It was almost out of character for her to just trust a dude like that on a whim. "Did you bond over being murderers with a cause?"
Fox held her hand up in surrender as she tried to smile innocently. "To be fair, it was a method that worked. Okay, so... I have no idea what the fucking metaphor should be. I've never had to deal with this kind of shit. He didn't smash my face into a wall, but he does know how to fuck me nice and hard. He likes it rough." She gave a shake of her head. "No, it's nothing to do with that. Even if he doesn't seem to mind I'm an ex-assassin. There was just... electricity. He's like a drug. It was hot from the moment we met. He challenges me, and he matches me, and he turns me on."
Wesley listened closely and then gave a nod. Oddly enough, he wasn't jealous. Not even a hint. He knew that told him a lot about the dymanic between him and her. They just got each other, and even if they had been fucking each other, it was on a different level. They probably couldn't exist without each other now, but that didn't mean they couldn't look for fulfilment elsewhere and still exist together. "So, what now?" he asked her, wondering if she had even contemplated the next step. "Or rather, was it all just for fun or are you going to see him again? He got under your skin and I get a feeling that you don't have a fucking clue what to do about that."
Fox pointed at him with her beer before she nearly swallowed all of it in one hit. She licked her lips and set the bottle down on the counter before folding her arms under her chest and meeting his gaze. "You're right. I don't. I don't have a fucking clue what to do. I don't even know if I am seeing him again, but not walking out last night seemed like an important step. I just don't know where it's meant to lead to. We still haven't exchanged numbers, or any of that usual bullshit."
"Then how the fuck are you gonna know how to see him again?" Wesley asked in exasperation. He shook his head in disbelief. He might have been in a relationship with a deadbeat fucking girlfriend who fucked around on him, but at least he had some relationships skills that Fox was clearly lacking. "So, you stuck around last night? At his place? Does he live here? What did you do, how did you feel? Did you fuck off before he woke up in the morning? Were there any moments that really stabbed you deep in the gut and made you wanna run because it felt too right?"
"His hotel room," she corrected him as she gave him a pointed look. "I already said it was his hotel room. He's either based here, or he's just passing through so I have no idea where he's actually living. He's just come back from Afghanistan, he was married, but now divorced. Woman was a total bitch. She would have liked your ex. I don't know how I'll see him again. Fate? He knows where I work. For now I know where he's staying." Fox rubbed her fingers against her forehead as she wondered what the hell she was doing. "We fucked and had room service. What else were we going to do? I slept next to him, and it was weird at first... but it felt right, and I did think about bolting then, but didn't. It's the best I've slept in a while."
Wesley shook his head with a small, disbelieving groan. "Fuck fate. Fuck fate in the ass. You gotta go back to that damn hotel and give him your fucking number. Alright?" He looked at her pointedly, gesturing to the door with his beer. "You inked him, do you think he's gonna just rock back up in your shop on fate a second time? He's staying in a hotel in the city. That tells you he doesn't live here. Once he goes, back to the shiney world of camos, big guns, and flags and shit, how can you be sure you're ever gonna see him again? You know he's a sniper. There is more than one military base in Texas. If you don't lock him in now, you're fucked. You found me because you knew how to find me. This dude is an unknown quantity to you. You might hate that, but it also means you could fuck yourself over if you don't do anything about it."
Fox actually hesitated as she looked from Wesley to the door. "Right now? I only just left. Won't that be... stupid?" She sighed. "Who says I should see him again. Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe he's too much of an unknown quantity and anyone that feels like crack cocaine should stay the fuck away. What is going after him even going to achieve?"
Wesley snorted, folding his arms across his chest, shaking his head. "You really are fucked up, aren't you? That bullet to the head shook a fucking screw loose. When did you ever not fight for something you wanted? Or more importantly, why the fuck would you just let a dude walk away who you suspect could match you not only in a good fuck, but bullet for bullet? So what if he's a fucking unknown quantity? I doubt you gave the poor bastard much to work with, either. It really would be fucking stupid if he's checking out as we speak."
Fox flipped Wesley off before turning to stalk back to the archway, and lean against it with her back to Wesley as she thought about Rob. It was also a chance to hide the sadness in her expression at the idea of not seeing the soldier again. It wasn't that she wanted anything so... permanent, but how often did two people explode with such chemistry? It didn't feel right to just let it go. The beer hung loosely from her fingertips and she tapped the bottle against her leg. Eventually she glanced at him from over her shoulder. "If you were him, would you just want me knocking on your door when I don't even have a clue what the fuck I'm offering, or asking for?"
It was a lot for Wesley to try and put himself in the guy's shoes. For one, before Fox and the Fraternity came along, Wesley was the biggest, weakest dipshit to walk the planet. He could never even begin to understand what it was like for a guy to be in the thick of a war blowing people up left and right, to be away from home for months on end, and having to watch your mates get shot to smithereens. Even if Wesley would have liked to see his apparent best friend get just that treatment. A sniper shot would have been too neat and painless for that fucker. But that was beside the point. Fox wanted Wesley to put his brain in the slot of this soldier dude. As unhelpful as it was, all he could offer straight away was, "Depends how you feel about me... him," he corrected, already confusing himself. "I probably wouldn't want you to bother if I was just a play toy to occupy you for a couple of nights."
Fox sighed, and finished her beer. She was tempted to throw the bottle at the wall, but wasn't exactly sure what she would be trying to achieve. She also didn't know exactly how she felt about Rob. Not in any way that she could verbalise it so it made sense. "He was already worried that he wouldn't be enough to keep me occupied. I'm not interested in a play toy. If I wanted a play toy I'd go out and buy a fucking vibrator. I... like him."
Wesley sipped his beer slowly and then cleared his throat. "Then what's the issue? He's a fucking soldier. He has other priorities. He's not going to be drooling over you like a lovesick puppy. He also won't always be here. He'll be away, for months on end. Basically the Army has his balls in a vice, you'll just get to play with them when he's not posted. All assuming he is even based somewhere here. You didn't get details, he might be from fucking California for all you know."
Fox set the beer bottle down and came back over to Wesley as she looked at him, trying to dissect herself from his point of view. "What if I can't wait? He's got a divorce from a wife that fucked around with his best friend. As much as she fucking disgusts me, just as your girlfriend did... What if I can't wait? How is that fair on him? He's a good guy, even if he does have a taste for roughness. He doesn't deserve that kind of bullshit."
Wesley shrugged. "Then let him go," he said simply, holding her gaze.
"No," Fox answered before she could stop herself. "I'm not her, I'm not either of them. I can wait. He's worth it."
Wesley raised an eyebrow and smirked knowingly at her. "Well, well, well..." he said smugly, resting the neck of the beer bottle against his lips. "She has a heart."
Fox glared until she couldn't help but smile. "I'm still waiting for you to grow backbone, Cowardly Lion. Time for you to find a lady of your own. And one you don't submit to."
Wesley snorted and finished off his beer with a shake of his head. "Fuck off, I did not submit to you. You beat the fuck out of me until I had no choice but to follow or fucking die," he scoffed. "And get your fucking cupid diaper and arrow out of my face. Just because you're all smooshy over a guy, doesn't mean you have to drag me down with the fail boat."
Fox reached up to take his face between her hands and squished it as she made a kissy noise. "Poor widdle Wesley afraid of being in wuv?" She kissed his lips lightly before ruffling his hair. "It's alright, my diaper and arrow are going elsewhere. I have a phone number to get."
"Smart, not afraid," Wesley said with a small sniff and then flipped her off. "At least let me know if you're gonna fall off the face of the fucking earth for three days again. You're bollocking a sniper, how am I supposed to know what he'll do if you suck him off the wrong way or something?"
Fox grabbed his wrist, and pulled his finger into her mouth as she bit down while smirking at him. "I promise to check in so you don't have to sit around worrying, while playing with yourself. Far be it from me to get in the way of your love affair with your right hand. You really do need to find some pussy."
Wesley pulled his hand away and then flicked her in the forehead with his wet finger, smirking at her. "I had pussy and you're fucking aiming it elsewhere. I should be jealous, but I'm not and that's fucking pathetic. I'm getting pizza, a six pack and watching the porn channel naked tonight. Don't bring him home unless you want him to cop an eyeful."
Fox tilted her head. "So a threesome is out of the question, then? Too bad. It would have been a sandwich I would have loved to have been in the middle of. Thank you for not being jealous, though. I'm not sure I could have taken you being a fucking pouty asshole."
Wesley pointed at himself. "Do I look like I'm interested in cock? Make it a foursome with a hot piece of pussy and I might think about it." He snorted again. "You've got tickets on yourself, haven't you? Go... go... nab your military cock. I'll wait on stand-by for when you freak the fuck out about love or committment or fucking weddings rings or some shit."
Fox blew him a kiss as she started to back out again. "You're my hero." She quickly turned and was gone before she could change her mind, trying not to feel like an idiotic schoolgirl as she thought about getting Rob's number and making things a little more official.
Word Count | 3,773
Ever since Fox did her fucking zombie routine and came back from the dead, she and Wesley had fallen into a sort of weird domestic scenario... only not. Neither of them could ever be comfortably termed domestic and they would probably put a bullet in anyone's head if they suggested they were that together. But they had an apartment together, and they fucked when they felt like it, Fox went to her job at the tattoo place, and Wesley went to his as a bartender a few nights a week just to stop him crawling the walls and taking a gun to his own head. It was something to do, but that didn't mean the job made him all fucking squishy and warm inside. It didn't. He needed more. He had just yet to decide what the more was and the bar was a pay packet. But they existed together, both trying to pretend they weren't antsy without the commitments of the Fraternity. That urge to just shoot the shit out of something was in them both, but so far, they had coped okay, and six months into the arrangement, they still hadn't killed each other. It worked. It had become their norm.
That is, it was the norm until Fox came home being weird. Wesley stood in the kitchen trying to dig overcooked spaghetti off the bottom of the pot. He had decided to try and become Gordon Ramsey when she seemed to go MIA for a few nights. He was going to cook the most awesome fucking spag bol known to man, until he completely fucked it up, burned the pasta and realised he forgot to actually buy meat, and he wasn't even sure what meat was supposed to go in spag bol anyway. He was roughly trying to gouge the burnt soggy mess from the pot when he watched Fox in the living room, pulling her leather jacket off and throwing her keys onto the coffee table. She had only been home a short time, and so far, all the conversation that had passed between them was her pulling the piss out of him for being in the vicinity of an operating stove. "You got fucked," he finally realised when the penny dropped and he looked at her questioningly, eyebrow raised. "Well fucked."
Fox glanced up at him as she smirked, and moved through the living room to stand against the kitchen counter as she watched him struggle with the ruined pasta. "You would know that look," she replied eventually as she arched an eyebrow in turn. Not that they'd done it recently. Not since the day before she met Rob. As much as the soldier had been a one night stand, something in her had stopped her from automatically going back to Wesley.
Wesley snorted and gave the pasta a particularly hard shove and sent a large glob of it flying into the kitchen window, where it slid down the glass and plopped onto the window sill. It was enough to make Wesley lose his patience and he dropped the pot loudly into the sink and gave up. "That's all you're gonna say? Like I give a fuck about that look. You wanted to bang me, you came looking for me to fucking bang me," he had the pleasure of reminding her and then shrugged. "Well? What is he? A serial killer? Escaped crim? Or did you do a chick? Fuuuuck, if you did a chick and didn't let me watch, I'll shoot you in the head myself and I won't miss."
"And I thought you didn't want me taking your cock for granted, or for this to just be about sex." Fox narrowed her eyes as they flashed dangerously, and she ignored the streak of pasta on the kitchen window. She stayed where she was, knowing if she moved in closer to Wesley she'd just wind up punching him in the face. "Are you trying to tell me you're jealous? That you feel like I cheated on you? I wasn't aware I was your fucking wife, Wesley. I don't recall ever agreeing to be Mrs Gibson. I don't recall a moment when we agreed that we were anything other than friends with benefits. If my memory sucks that fucking much, then how about you remind me?" She continued to glare at him, and her lip curled back in a sneer. "He's Army. A sniper. I didn't do a fucking chick, so don't go getting your panties in a twist. I don't have the patience for women."
Wesley looked at her and then started to laugh. "What? Are you..." He cut off, leaning forward a little as he started to laugh harder. "No, I'm not fucking jealous. You would like that, wouldn't you? Me sitting here pining over you? I just asked who the fuck he was. Isn't that what friends do? Talk? You don't show up for two nights, for the first time since you wanted to shack up with me. I was curious where the fuck you were. How am I supposed to know you aren't gonna try and shove another bullet through your fucking skull? But fine. You don't want to tell me, don't fucking tell me. I don't give a shit," he said with a shrug, moving to the fridge and grabbing out a beer. He watched her in amusement as she tried to get her bitch on with him. It wouldn't be the first time. When she finally revealed details, he felt his lips flicker in an attempt not to laugh. "Army? Sniper? You really do have a fetish for dudes with big fucking guns, don't you?"
"Then what was with the fucking reminder?" Fox asked as she relaxed and moved into the kitchen properly to grab her own beer since Wesley wasn't even going to get one for her. She turned around as she held onto it with one hand before ruffling his hair with the other as she gave him a smirk. "Of course you give a shit. You don't have anyone but me, so you need details. You really should work on getting yourself out there, Gibson. No wonder you got stuck with the same shrivelled pussy girlfriend. Too scared to actually dump her and go find someone else." Fox popped the cap off her beer, and started to laugh. "Do I look like a fucking candidate for suicide now? I'm just peachy keen. Couldn't be happier. And yes, I really do have a fetish, and yes, he does have a fucking big 'gun'."
Wesley took a long gulp of his beer and continued to analyse her. "To be fair, you didn't fucking look like a candidate for suicide back then, either," he pointed out, leaning against the counter. He knew he had been using Fox as a reason not to actually get out there all that much. He met chicks in the bar he worked, had a better tendency to flirt these days than he did in the past, but as long as he had Fox here to come home to for a good hard, fuck, there didn't seem much point pulling elsewhere. Maybe it was a good thing she had made the first move. They never would survive in a relationship. They would take each other out in a bloody mess. They definitely weren't exclusive, but it had gotten easy and comfortable. The last thing he needed was to fall into his rut tendencies that he harboured in the past. Still, it really was surprising for him to hear Fox had pulled. More for the fact that she didn't trust anyone. "Two nights you were gone. Were you with him both nights?"
"It was the right thing to do, not suicide." Fox let out a huff, and wondered how she was ever going to explain it so that he understood. It was past, and she was still here and alive. It seemed like a moot point even if he kept insisting on bring it up. She couldn't deny that things had become somewhat comfortable between them, but she'd never been able to commit to the idea of a relationship with Wesley. They really would destroy each other. With Rob it was different, and she still wasn't quite sure why other than she'd rather keep fucking him, than kill him. "Yes. And twice at the tattoo parlour," she revealed since Wesley wanted the details. "I inked his ass. And no, that's not a metaphor. I didn't think I'd see him again, but then he just happened to show up... Last night was the first night we stayed in the same bed. I was at his hotel room."
"Fate," Wesley offered quietly, eyes locked on her face for a reaction. "You stayed in the dude's bed, a second night? What... you..." He looked at her with a small laugh. "Wow. He didn't drug you, did he? Or do you just automatically trust military because of their undying loyalty to this wonderful country?" he added sarcastically, putting a hand on his heart. "I feel like breaking out into 'God Bless America'."
Fox blinked, her eyes widening briefly in the only reaction he was going to see. "Might just have to put a bullet in your head if you do," she warned. "It's not about him being a soldier, it's about him being... Fuck, I don't know how to explain it. Think about the first time you realised what you could do. The first time you realised just what the fuck you were capable of... It feels kind of like that when I'm with him."
Wesley snorted with a laugh and shook his head. "Oh come on. That's hardly a fair comparison. You fucking wouldn't let me stop until you moulded me and if I fucked up, you beat the shit out of me. You need to find another fucking metaphor unless he smashed your face into a wall every time you fucking came," he told her, pointing to her with his beer. "What's different about him?" he finally asked, really not sure he was following her. It was almost out of character for her to just trust a dude like that on a whim. "Did you bond over being murderers with a cause?"
Fox held her hand up in surrender as she tried to smile innocently. "To be fair, it was a method that worked. Okay, so... I have no idea what the fucking metaphor should be. I've never had to deal with this kind of shit. He didn't smash my face into a wall, but he does know how to fuck me nice and hard. He likes it rough." She gave a shake of her head. "No, it's nothing to do with that. Even if he doesn't seem to mind I'm an ex-assassin. There was just... electricity. He's like a drug. It was hot from the moment we met. He challenges me, and he matches me, and he turns me on."
Wesley listened closely and then gave a nod. Oddly enough, he wasn't jealous. Not even a hint. He knew that told him a lot about the dymanic between him and her. They just got each other, and even if they had been fucking each other, it was on a different level. They probably couldn't exist without each other now, but that didn't mean they couldn't look for fulfilment elsewhere and still exist together. "So, what now?" he asked her, wondering if she had even contemplated the next step. "Or rather, was it all just for fun or are you going to see him again? He got under your skin and I get a feeling that you don't have a fucking clue what to do about that."
Fox pointed at him with her beer before she nearly swallowed all of it in one hit. She licked her lips and set the bottle down on the counter before folding her arms under her chest and meeting his gaze. "You're right. I don't. I don't have a fucking clue what to do. I don't even know if I am seeing him again, but not walking out last night seemed like an important step. I just don't know where it's meant to lead to. We still haven't exchanged numbers, or any of that usual bullshit."
"Then how the fuck are you gonna know how to see him again?" Wesley asked in exasperation. He shook his head in disbelief. He might have been in a relationship with a deadbeat fucking girlfriend who fucked around on him, but at least he had some relationships skills that Fox was clearly lacking. "So, you stuck around last night? At his place? Does he live here? What did you do, how did you feel? Did you fuck off before he woke up in the morning? Were there any moments that really stabbed you deep in the gut and made you wanna run because it felt too right?"
"His hotel room," she corrected him as she gave him a pointed look. "I already said it was his hotel room. He's either based here, or he's just passing through so I have no idea where he's actually living. He's just come back from Afghanistan, he was married, but now divorced. Woman was a total bitch. She would have liked your ex. I don't know how I'll see him again. Fate? He knows where I work. For now I know where he's staying." Fox rubbed her fingers against her forehead as she wondered what the hell she was doing. "We fucked and had room service. What else were we going to do? I slept next to him, and it was weird at first... but it felt right, and I did think about bolting then, but didn't. It's the best I've slept in a while."
Wesley shook his head with a small, disbelieving groan. "Fuck fate. Fuck fate in the ass. You gotta go back to that damn hotel and give him your fucking number. Alright?" He looked at her pointedly, gesturing to the door with his beer. "You inked him, do you think he's gonna just rock back up in your shop on fate a second time? He's staying in a hotel in the city. That tells you he doesn't live here. Once he goes, back to the shiney world of camos, big guns, and flags and shit, how can you be sure you're ever gonna see him again? You know he's a sniper. There is more than one military base in Texas. If you don't lock him in now, you're fucked. You found me because you knew how to find me. This dude is an unknown quantity to you. You might hate that, but it also means you could fuck yourself over if you don't do anything about it."
Fox actually hesitated as she looked from Wesley to the door. "Right now? I only just left. Won't that be... stupid?" She sighed. "Who says I should see him again. Maybe I shouldn't. Maybe he's too much of an unknown quantity and anyone that feels like crack cocaine should stay the fuck away. What is going after him even going to achieve?"
Wesley snorted, folding his arms across his chest, shaking his head. "You really are fucked up, aren't you? That bullet to the head shook a fucking screw loose. When did you ever not fight for something you wanted? Or more importantly, why the fuck would you just let a dude walk away who you suspect could match you not only in a good fuck, but bullet for bullet? So what if he's a fucking unknown quantity? I doubt you gave the poor bastard much to work with, either. It really would be fucking stupid if he's checking out as we speak."
Fox flipped Wesley off before turning to stalk back to the archway, and lean against it with her back to Wesley as she thought about Rob. It was also a chance to hide the sadness in her expression at the idea of not seeing the soldier again. It wasn't that she wanted anything so... permanent, but how often did two people explode with such chemistry? It didn't feel right to just let it go. The beer hung loosely from her fingertips and she tapped the bottle against her leg. Eventually she glanced at him from over her shoulder. "If you were him, would you just want me knocking on your door when I don't even have a clue what the fuck I'm offering, or asking for?"
It was a lot for Wesley to try and put himself in the guy's shoes. For one, before Fox and the Fraternity came along, Wesley was the biggest, weakest dipshit to walk the planet. He could never even begin to understand what it was like for a guy to be in the thick of a war blowing people up left and right, to be away from home for months on end, and having to watch your mates get shot to smithereens. Even if Wesley would have liked to see his apparent best friend get just that treatment. A sniper shot would have been too neat and painless for that fucker. But that was beside the point. Fox wanted Wesley to put his brain in the slot of this soldier dude. As unhelpful as it was, all he could offer straight away was, "Depends how you feel about me... him," he corrected, already confusing himself. "I probably wouldn't want you to bother if I was just a play toy to occupy you for a couple of nights."
Fox sighed, and finished her beer. She was tempted to throw the bottle at the wall, but wasn't exactly sure what she would be trying to achieve. She also didn't know exactly how she felt about Rob. Not in any way that she could verbalise it so it made sense. "He was already worried that he wouldn't be enough to keep me occupied. I'm not interested in a play toy. If I wanted a play toy I'd go out and buy a fucking vibrator. I... like him."
Wesley sipped his beer slowly and then cleared his throat. "Then what's the issue? He's a fucking soldier. He has other priorities. He's not going to be drooling over you like a lovesick puppy. He also won't always be here. He'll be away, for months on end. Basically the Army has his balls in a vice, you'll just get to play with them when he's not posted. All assuming he is even based somewhere here. You didn't get details, he might be from fucking California for all you know."
Fox set the beer bottle down and came back over to Wesley as she looked at him, trying to dissect herself from his point of view. "What if I can't wait? He's got a divorce from a wife that fucked around with his best friend. As much as she fucking disgusts me, just as your girlfriend did... What if I can't wait? How is that fair on him? He's a good guy, even if he does have a taste for roughness. He doesn't deserve that kind of bullshit."
Wesley shrugged. "Then let him go," he said simply, holding her gaze.
"No," Fox answered before she could stop herself. "I'm not her, I'm not either of them. I can wait. He's worth it."
Wesley raised an eyebrow and smirked knowingly at her. "Well, well, well..." he said smugly, resting the neck of the beer bottle against his lips. "She has a heart."
Fox glared until she couldn't help but smile. "I'm still waiting for you to grow backbone, Cowardly Lion. Time for you to find a lady of your own. And one you don't submit to."
Wesley snorted and finished off his beer with a shake of his head. "Fuck off, I did not submit to you. You beat the fuck out of me until I had no choice but to follow or fucking die," he scoffed. "And get your fucking cupid diaper and arrow out of my face. Just because you're all smooshy over a guy, doesn't mean you have to drag me down with the fail boat."
Fox reached up to take his face between her hands and squished it as she made a kissy noise. "Poor widdle Wesley afraid of being in wuv?" She kissed his lips lightly before ruffling his hair. "It's alright, my diaper and arrow are going elsewhere. I have a phone number to get."
"Smart, not afraid," Wesley said with a small sniff and then flipped her off. "At least let me know if you're gonna fall off the face of the fucking earth for three days again. You're bollocking a sniper, how am I supposed to know what he'll do if you suck him off the wrong way or something?"
Fox grabbed his wrist, and pulled his finger into her mouth as she bit down while smirking at him. "I promise to check in so you don't have to sit around worrying, while playing with yourself. Far be it from me to get in the way of your love affair with your right hand. You really do need to find some pussy."
Wesley pulled his hand away and then flicked her in the forehead with his wet finger, smirking at her. "I had pussy and you're fucking aiming it elsewhere. I should be jealous, but I'm not and that's fucking pathetic. I'm getting pizza, a six pack and watching the porn channel naked tonight. Don't bring him home unless you want him to cop an eyeful."
Fox tilted her head. "So a threesome is out of the question, then? Too bad. It would have been a sandwich I would have loved to have been in the middle of. Thank you for not being jealous, though. I'm not sure I could have taken you being a fucking pouty asshole."
Wesley pointed at himself. "Do I look like I'm interested in cock? Make it a foursome with a hot piece of pussy and I might think about it." He snorted again. "You've got tickets on yourself, haven't you? Go... go... nab your military cock. I'll wait on stand-by for when you freak the fuck out about love or committment or fucking weddings rings or some shit."
Fox blew him a kiss as she started to back out again. "You're my hero." She quickly turned and was gone before she could change her mind, trying not to feel like an idiotic schoolgirl as she thought about getting Rob's number and making things a little more official.
Word Count | 3,773