wesleynotponcy | Room 504, Laaaaaate Wednesday Night

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Room 504, Laaaaaate Wednesday Night

Wesley couldn't quite clamp down on the small pained noises that rose instinctively in his throat as he made his way agonizingly slowly up the last set of stairs to the fifth floor. It just figured, didn't it, that his room would be on the top floor when he was in this condition. Well. At least it wasn't too far from the stairwell to his room.

He limped the few steps to his door and unlocked it. He knew that he would have to do inventory of the injuries later, but right now he was focused rather single-mindedly on making sure Katniss had enough food and then collapsing in bed. He rather hoped he'd find her sleeping -- he didn't much fancy the idea of her seeing him like this. It would just be another piece of evidence that he wasn't equipped to take care of someone.

[[For the mockingjay. Up early for probable eventual SP.]]

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"I think he sees a bit of himself in her," Wesley admitted softly.

Not like that was disturbing or anything.

"He -- well, really, it's a fairly involved story, but there was a long period when he also... hurt people. He's changed, of course, and he's been good for quite a while, but I think he recognized her despair. He wanted to help her heal."

Which was why he'd bought her donuts the next morning, the bastard.

"She sounds like she's beyond healing," Katniss said flatly. "She needs help. She needs to be locked away and have her brain fixed. A hug won't help anything."

Not big on forgiveness over here, no.

"Nor donuts," Wesley agreed darkly. Damnit, Angel.

"Actually... that's what Buffy said," he added then, a bit more thoughtfully as he leaned back against the headboard. Well, except that Buffy had seemed to determine to win the Who Can Be Least Rational About Their Ex game, whereas Katniss was making a much more credible argument. "Have I told you about her?"

Katniss shook her head, trying to find a position where she could curl against him but not hurt him. She was extra-worried about that now (though it wasn't as though her hormones had evaporated out of her body, or she'd gone blind, either.) "It sounds like I'd like her, if we're agreeing."

Oh, no, Katniss. You wouldn't.

Wesley patted the space beside him, where they could presumably attempt something resembling cuddling that would probably be a bit more comfortable than the lap thing. "I was her Watcher," he explained. "Hers and Faith's. Or Assistant Watcher, rather. Buffy is -- capable. She didn't ever have much interest in listening to me, but she can hold her own." You know, when she wasn't playing the irrational game. "Whereas Faith... I suppose I was lacking in my advisement of her. She not only defied the Watchers' Council and her calling, but actively launched attacks on the populace." Pause. "And apparently had, er, relations with Buffy's most recent boyfriend, if I understand correctly."

Cue an intensely awkward blush.

"So Buffy felt rather strongly about not sparing her any consideration," he concluded.

There was probably a faster way to tell that story, wasn't there?

Katniss, who'd rolled out of his lap to curl against his side as he spoke, raised a brow. "I'm sorry, did Faith...um, sleep with Buffy's boyfriend just to get to Buffy? That's just disgusting."

"That's the impression I got," Wesley tried, though he had to admit he wasn't sure. "Granted, I walked in toward the end of their, er, conversation--" If you could call it that -- "so I'm not certain. The way I understand it is that some sort of mystical force caused them to switch bodies for several days, during which time Faith took advantage of the opportunity to... er..."

Yeah. That.

"If any one ever switches bodies with me, I'll be very unhappy if you sleep with them," Katniss noted. "For the record."

It seemed like something that should be said.

Not to worry, Katniss, Wesley had no feelings for genderswapped!Bruce!

He opened and closed his mouth several times, startled, then said, "Er. Likewise."

Her mouth twisted in a slight smirk, even as she blushed a darker red. "I -- never mind. Poor Buffy, though. I'd feel the same way."

Her first thought was one that she was glad she'd stamped down -- that as long as she was in her own body, though, it would probably be fine. Her mouth was getting away from her tonight enough already, though.

"Oh, well, of course," he agreed, though he was avoiding actually visualizing what such a thing would be like, thank you. "The island's proclivity toward impromptu transformations is bothersome enough. It's one thing to look different for a few days; something like that is... different."

"I'm glad I'm not a bird anymore," she noted softly, snuggling -- she'd deny using that word even in narrative -- against him. "It was bizarre, but I also just...spent a lot of time thinking. I guess it was probably good for me."

"About what?" he murmured, settling one arm around her shoulders. "If you don't mind sharing, of course."

"Prim." It was the first time she'd said her name in a long time, and Katniss half-expected the world to come crashing down.

It didn't.

"Karla. Peeta. Finnick. You. How I've been...acting." She took a deep breath, resting her head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

He set his hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently to suggest that it was okay to say the name, or anything else she might need to share. It was fine.

"I promise you," he murmured, softly but intensely, "I'd never dream of holding it against you."

"Of course not," she said, smiling a little. "That's one of the reasons I love you. But I'm sorry. I'm...going to try to stop that. I don't know if it'll stay like this, or if I'll go back to that, but I'm actually going to try."

"Good. Good, that's... yes. That's good." Really, Wes? Was it? "And if there's anything I can do to help, or if you're having an especially rough time, I'd be more than happy to come sit with you, or do whatever you need," he offered.

Like making out, for example.

"I like what we were doing a moment ago," Katniss offered shyly -- almost flirtatiously, for her. "I -- you know, I missed you, and...yes."

"Then what we were doing a moment ago it is," Wesley teased. He started to shift onto his side, thinking that might be more comfortable, then winced.

"Maybe sitting up would be best."

"...how about you get comfortable, and I'll...fit around you," Katniss offered, wincing with concern as she watched him.

"Probably a better idea," Wesley agreed, smiling. "Thank you." He shifted positions a few times, trying to find something that would work without being either awkward or uncomfortable, and eventually ended up laying on his back, face turned to look at her. "Is this all right?"

"If you're comfortable, it's perfect," Katniss murmured, leaning over to kiss him. "I don't know what I'm doing," she added again, between soft little kisses, because that was a thing she could do now, too. She was experimenting! "Tell me if it's...bad, or too much, or...just keep me updated."

"I somehow doubt that'll be an issue," he murmured in between kisses of his own. As the tingles that accompanied being kissed began resparking in his chest, he found himself oddly motivated, and reached a hand out to settle on her side.

And after everything in the last few moments, how a simple hand on her side could send that kind of flutter through her was beyond Katniss. She shifted a little, skimming her fingertips out to graze his chest. She was mindful of his wounds but...well, he was warm and there and touchable and hers. How could she not?

Mid-kiss, Wesley let out a small noise of pleasure at that. While before he'd had just his fingertips just tenatively brushing against her side, now he took her touch as an indication that it was okay. So he got more comfortable, and lay his palm flat against the shirt that was entirely too worn and baggy on her, and just... felt.

How could something so unfamiliar be so comfortable? And more importantly, how could something so comfortable be so exciting at the same time?

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