reality_bends | Moving toward the shower. Eventually.

Spike was quiet for a moment. "It was very generous for someone you hardly knew and probably didn't like much."

"I didn't dislike you," Wesley protested. "At the time, I was trying to do what Angel had asked me to do. I should probably consider myself fortunate that one good thing came out of that." He could hear the bitter edge creeping into his voice.

That Wesley had done such damage to himself for Angel wasn't something that Spike had needed to hear stated quite so clearly, though he had known that it was true. He wondered if Wesley would have ultimately preferred to have remained happily ignorant of what had been done to him. "Well, I'm grateful," Spike said, pulling his hand away from Wesley's arm.

"So am I," Wesley said, reaching out and catching Spike's hand gently, trying to get Spike to look at him. "I'm very grateful. You're the only thing I have to thank Angel for." In that moment, he realized that it was possible that there was too much water under the bridge for he and Angel to ever actually be friends again.

"We both know that's not true," Spike said, letting his hand and, more reluctantly, his gaze be captured. "You've got years of history together that haven't changed because of what he did to you."

"Or because of what I did to him," Wesley said, since it might as well be admitted to out loud. "But just because he wanted to go back to the way things were... that doesn't mean I do. Even if we could."

"Why wouldn't you?" Spike asked.

Wesley looked at Spike in disbelief. "Because it was a lie?" he suggested.

"Some people might forgive him for doing what he had to to protect his son," Spike said, trying not to show how much personal involvement he had in Wesley's responses.

"I'm not sure it's about forgiveness," Wesley said. "It's about... trust. And... I can't imagine trusting him ever again."

Spike doubted that Buffy had ever expected to trust him again, either, but somehow she had. He decided not to mention it. "It'd be hard," he said instead, his fingers tightening in sympathy on Wesley's.

Wesley was grateful for Spike's touch. "I can't imagine he trusts me either."

"He seems to want to," Spike said after a moment's internal debate. The desire to be truthful with Wesley won out, though it wasn't in Spike's best interest.

"If he'd wanted to, he'd have found another way," Wesley said, his voice rising for the first time since the discussion had started. "He wouldn't have sacrificed the rest of us so that Connor could have another chance, no matter how much the boy deserved one."

"I'm not arguing with you," Spike hurried to say. "He was bloody selfish and stupid, and I told him that."

Wesley remembered what he'd walked in on earlier and forced a smile onto his face. "I'm sure you did, loudly and repeatedly."

"Not all that loudly. Maybe that's why he didn't get it." Spike squeezed Wesley's hand again. "You've every right to be upset, pet."

Wesley took a deep breath in and let it out slowly before asking the next question. "But does that give me the right to walk away?"

"You've always got the right to walk away. You're not a slave." Spike looked down at their joined hands and then back up at Wesley's face. "Only you can say whether you want to."

It was difficult to meet Spike's eyes. "I don't want to make either decision because it's the easier one. But I don't know if I'm strong enough to stay."

"You're strong enough to do whatever you want," Spike said.

Unsure this was true, Wesley knew only that he needed more time in which to make a decision. "At the moment," he said wryly, "what I want to do is take a shower. With you, if you'd still like to join me."

Spike leaned over to give Wesley a brief kiss. "Sounds just about perfect," he said, smiling.

Wesley smiled back, happy at the thought of being distracted by whatever other conversation or activity they could come up with. As he got up and made a mental note to change the sheets again, he asked, "How are you? Healing-wise, I mean."

"Almost as good as new," Spike said, pushing the covers back and getting to his feet.

Wesley glanced at Spike skeptically. "Really? Or do you just want me to stop asking?"

"I'm fine, pet," Spike replied, holding his arms out to the side to indicate his largely unblemished body. "Really. And I don't mind you asking. I didn't think you wanted a report on every bruise and broken bone, but I'll give you one if you want."

"Not necessary," Wesley said, walking past Spike and then turning and slipping an arm around his waist from behind, pulling Spike flush against his body. "I just want to know you're all right," he whispered.

Pleased by the concern, Spike smiled and leaned into Wesley's embrace. "I am. Thank you."

"Good. Let's keep it that way." Wesley kissed Spike's shoulder as he released him and started walking backward toward the bathroom.

"I'll do my part. Can't speak for anyone else," Spike said, following after Wesley. He grinned. "Seems like no one can keep their hands off me."

"Of course not," Wesley said. He reached the doorway to the bathroom before he faltered. "You don't mean... that is, he didn't...?"

Oh, bugger. "I didn't fall through the table myself," Spike said, trying to evade the subject.

Wesley was more stubborn than that. "That's not what I meant."

Spike was fairly certainly that Wesley was going to stand there until he got an answer. "He did a lot of things to try to get rid of me."

Leaning against the doorframe for support, Wesley said, very flatly, "He touched you."

"Again, did you see the living room?" Spike asked. He took another step toward Wesley and put his hand on his arm. "Come on, pet. There's nothing for you to be upset about. Let's go take a shower."

Wesley didn't move. He was trying to tell himself that whatever he was imagining was certainly worse than whatever had happened, but it wasn't quite working. "Tell me."

"Hot water? Small space? Soap?" Spike could see that Wesley wasn't amused. Sighing, he let his arm fall back to his side. "There's nothing to tell. He was trying everything he could to get me to listen, including falling back into some old... patterns." He wasn't sure how much Wesley knew about their relationship back when they were both unsouled, and he didn't really relish the thought of having to provide details. "Obviously it didn't work."

He knew that Spike didn't want Angel -- quite possibly hated him -- and that helped. A bit. "I don't like the thought of him touching you at all. But especially not... like that."

Spike felt disloyal for wondering if Wesley's displeasure was because anyone had touched him or because it had specifically been Angel, but he couldn't stop the thought from settling in the back of his mind. "Can't say it was my favorite part of his visit, but I stopped it almost before it started. It was nothing. Really."

"Was it? Was it really nothing?" Wesley disliked needing the reassurance, but he most definitely did.

"What else would it have been?" Spike asked, getting both frustrated and a bit defensive.

Shoving down his insecurities, Wesley sighed. "I suppose it's absurd to think that you'd try to protect him. I know you don't... want him."

Continues here (http://www.livejournal.com/community/reality_bends/21887.html).

Moving toward the shower. Eventually.

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