reality_bends | Amazingly enough getting out of bed. Is that allowed?

"Spike," Wesley said, stepping closer and kissing him. "I'm fine. I promise. I'm just going to get a drink -- I'll be right with you."

Spike fought back the urge to argue that he could get Wesley a drink much faster than he could get it for himself. "All right," he said quietly, running his hand from Wesley's shoulder to his arm. "Take your time; the bath has to fill."

"I won't be long," Wesley said, determined to do this much for himself, at least. He started toward the kitchen slowly.

Watching Wesley helplessly, Spike waited until he was out of the door before following him down the hall and turning into the bathroom. The ivory tile floor seemed chilly compared to the softer hardwoods of the rest of the apartment, and after a second's pause Spike opened the shade on the Victorian-looking but newly installed many-paned window to let the sunlight in to warm the room a bit more. Then he sat on the edge of the tub, turned on the taps, and listened for Wesley's progress as he fiddled with the temperature.

Wesley knew that with some rest and some food and drink in him, he'd soon be feeling back to normal -- which, admittedly, these days was still not quite one hundred percent, but he was getting there. He went into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, taking out the carton of orange juice and setting it on the countertop. Then he got the largest glass he could find, filled it, and put the juice back.

Walking carefully, feeling only the slightest bit light-headed, he went back to the bathroom, where the water was running.

"Get your drink?" Spike asked as Wesley appeared in the doorway. To keep from looking up and escorting Wesley to a seat, he busied himself with adjusting the hot water tap to make the bath a bit warmer.

"Yes." Wesley took several large swallows, then set the glass down and went over to sit beside Spike on the edge of the bathtub, using his hands to turn Spike to face him, looking into his eyes.

"Hello, pet," Spike said with a smile, trying very hard to look unconcerned.

"I'm fine," Wesley said. "You know that? Or is there something else upsetting you?"

Spike sighed, dropping the act. "I know you're better," he said, "and I think I'm finally past worrying over papercuts, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to want to look after you."

"It's not that I don't love knowing that you worry about me," Wesley said, running his hand along Spike's arm. "But again, I want to be able to take care of you, too. Including reassuring you that I'm fine."

"But I've still got to sort out whether you're saying it to get me off your back or because it's true," Spike said with a faint smile.

"It's true," Wesley insisted. He looked down at himself ruefully -- he'd lost weight, which he was only slowly gaining back, and his scar looked unpleasantly dark in the bright room. "Regardless of how I might look, I really am fine."

"You look better every day," Spike assured him. "I just don't want you to push too fast and hurt yourself."

"I'm being careful," Wesley said, dropping his hand down and letting it trail through the hot water in the tub. "Believe me, I don't want to hurt any more than you want me to."

"Maybe not, but I think I've got a lower tolerance for your pain than you do," Spike said ruefully.

Wesley grinned and nudged Spike with his knee. "You might. But at least you remind me to be careful."

"Somebody's got to," Spike replied, grinning fondly in return. He leaned over to shut off the water pouring into the tub. "How's the temperature for you?"

"It's fine," Wesley said, getting up and going over to get his juice. "Why don't you get in? As long as you don't mind being used as a pillow." He let himself lean on the wall a bit as his blood pressure did interesting things.

"Let's get you in first and then I'll slide in behind you," Spike suggested, the sudden paleness of Wesley's face negating all of the talk of not worrying so much. He stood and moved a bit closer to him. "We'll put your drink next to the tub, right where you can reach it."

Wesely drank some more juice, then set the glass down again. "I can finish it after," he said, leaving the glass where it was and moving toward Spike.

Spike slipped his arm around Wesley's waist and leaned in for a quick, orange-flavored kiss. "In you go," he said, guiding him toward the tub.

The water, when Wesley stepped into it, was hot enough to make him hiss, but he sank down into it gratefully all the same. "Can I say -- not for the first time, I realize -- that I really did miss having a bathtub?"

Despite what Wesley had said, Spike brought over his glass and set it on the floor next to the tub before getting into the space Wesley had left behind him. He lowered himself down, extending his legs on either side of Wesley. "The first shower I ever had was a revelation, but there's something to be said for a nice bath." He slipped his arms around Wesley's shoulders and pulled him back against him. "Especially when you've got someone to share it."

Wesley sighed and relaxed back against Spike's chest. "Yes, this is the best part."

"You just say that because I'm the one with the cold porcelain against my back," Spike said, smiling and enfolding Wesley in his arms.

"We'll do it the other way around soon," Wesley said. He turned his head to look at Spike and curled his hands up around Spike's arms.

As Spike met Wesley's eyes, a feeling of contentment even warmer than the water washed over him. "I don't care, love. I'm happy like this, too."

"If I fall asleep like this, you really will have to carry me," Wesley said, turning back around and getting comfortable.

"I'm plenty strong enough," Spike replied with a happy little sigh as the water sloshed around gently with Wesley's movements. "Though you're tall enough I might bump bits of you into the wall. Guess I'll have to sling you over my shoulder."

"Oh, yes, that sounds very romantic," Wesley said, closing his eyes, but unable to keep the amusement from his voice.

Spike leaned his head back on the edge of the tub. "You want romantic? I'll sprinkle rose petals in the water, wash every inch of your skin with tender care, and soothe you to sleep with soft words in your ear." He paused, then added with a grin, "And then I'll sling you over my shoulder and take you back to bed."

"As long as I get to be conscious, either option sounds good," Wesley said honestly.

"You're a lot more fun when you're conscious, so I'm all for it," Spike said. He absently caressed the skin he could reach without relaxing his hold around Wesley's chest.

"Am I?" Wesley asked. "Fun, I mean?" He didn't often think of himself in those terms. Actually, he wasn't sure he ever did.

Spike rubbed his foot gently against Wesley's leg. "Yeah, especially when you're relaxed and not leaning toward brooding."

"I'll keep that in mind," Wesley said. "I don't feel much like brooding now."

"That's good to hear," Spike said, giving Wesley a little squeeze. "There's a lot of pressure off you now that we've moved."

"There is. It still feels rather strange to be here -- " Wesley turned his head again to add, "Strange in a good way. But strange."

"Is it what you thought it would be?" Spike asked after a moment's hesitation. "Living here?" He left out the "with me."

"I'm not sure it really feels as if we are, yet," Wesley said. The heat of the water was relaxing him, and being in Spike's arms just made it that much better. "Getting there, though. I think it's going to feel like home in a way the other place never did."

"That would be nice," Spike said softly.

Wesley ran his hands along Spike's arms. "What about you?"

Spike tightened his hold on Wesley and said, "I like having you all to myself. Having a place that's ours."

Continues here (http://www.livejournal.com/community/reality_bends/77569.html).

Amazingly enough getting out of bed. Is that allowed?

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