TITLE: Near Me Always
AUTHOR: Amberina
E-MAIL: amberina426@aol.com
AIM: Amberina426
RATING: A good, solid R, y'know, for the sex
PAIRING: Wesley/Fred (implied Cordelia/Gunn)
SPOILERS: Um, nothing?
SUMMARY: Fred loves Wesley so much it hurts.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, never was, never will be (probably.)
LYRICS: "Near Me Always" by Jewel. Which I so do not own.
FEEDBACK: Praise, contructive critism, and marriage proposals (provided, of course, that you are Alexis Denisof) all accepted gratefully. Flames are accepted a little less gratefully, and I think I'll pass on lawsuits.
ARCHIVING: UCSL and SU of course. Pylean Refugee and Wesleyan Aria can have if they want. Anyone else just ask and I'll say yes.
NOTE: I've never written anything from Fred's POV before, and my only previous work with Fred was a slash fic. I thought I handled her well though and no one seemed to have any complaints, so I figured I'd try her out first-person.
DEDICATION: Rach. 'Cause with the Wes/Fred and all . . . *sigh* and Topaz 'cause you know, Wesley! Naked Wesley! *sigh* Merry Christmas!
NEAR ME ALWAYS
By Amberina
Please don't say I love you
Those words touch me much too deeply
And they make my core tremble
Don't think you realize the effect you have over me
****
He lets me in, and as soon as he sees me his eyes light up. They actually flicker and then I swear they emmit a glow. I blush and giggle as he embraces me in a kiss, soft and sweet. He holds me close to him and I take in his scent. Mmm, he smells like - well, actually, like Wesley, which is a pretty good way to smell.
He nuzzles against my neck and his warm breath hits my skin electifying me head to toe. And then he says it. It's a slight whisper and I think that maybe I've misheard, but then he repeats it louder, his blue eyes staring into mine lovingly.
"I love you, Fred."
Tears form in my eyes but I hide it against his shoulder. He can't say he loves me. That means that - well, it means that he loves me. Just like Charles claimed to love me. Right before I walked in on him fucking Cordelia. But I know Wesley really does love me. But I thought Charles loved me, too.
And I love him, too. I love Wesley with all of my heart and I want to tell him that. That's exactly why I don't.
****
And please don't look at me like that
It just makes me want to make you near me always
****
He's looking at me when I raise my head, and the look in his eyes is much like when I first came in. Pure love. And it melts my heart and it melts me as a whole and I think for a moment that I did melt and that I am in a puddle at his feet. But then I snap out of my daydream and I realize that I am still solid Fred.
"I love you, too," I say softly, and I don't want him to hear, because if he hears then it will register in his brain that, yes, Fred does love him. And if he knows that I love him, he'd be more inclined to break my heart up into little itty-bitty pieces, and I'd like to keep my heart whole, thank you very much.
But he does hear it and his eyes light up even brighter. Charles' eyes used to light up like that. I love Wesley so much, and I couldn't handle it if he . . .
****
And please don't kiss me so sweet
It makes me crave a thousand kisses to follow
****
And then he kisses me again, more passionate this time, his tongue entering my mouth gently as he runs his hand up my back. My hands find their way to his hair and I twist them in it.
His lips are soft and warm against my own, his embrace similiar. I could do this forever, I think, and that's exactly why I pull away.
But he catches me by the arm, his beautiful eyes searching mine. "Fred?" he says softly, and I give in, slinking against him as he kisses me again, this time on the way to his bedroom.
****
And please don't touch me like that
It makes every other embrace seem pale and shallow
****
I fall back on the bed as he unbuttons his shirt, throwing it carelessly to the side. He leans down and kisses me again, and then he trails kisses down my neck and chest, biting the buttons of my blouse playfully when he reaches my clothing. I giggle and sigh. This couldn't get better.
I want to push him off, to tell him that this can't happen, that it will make me love him more than I already love him and if that were to happen my heart would burst and then if he . . . if he . . .
But I don't push him off and I don't tell him that it can't happen, because I want it to happen, and this want overpowers the want to keep my heart intact. So I pull him down on top of me while I fumble with his zipper, and he kisses me up my neck. I moan softly and his hands are under my dress . . .
Oh, god. He's ruining me for other men. Nothing could possibly compare to . . .
And then he's in me and he lavishes me with kisses as he makes love to me and if he keeps this up I'm going to love him more, and if I love him more then my heart surely will burst and I'm melting as he melts into me.
****
And please don't come so close
It just makes me want to make you near me always
****
After we're done, after it's over, and he holds me in his arms, I scoot away from him. This has to stop. I can't . . . oh, he's a cuddler. No, no, I can't . . .
"Fred?" he asks softly, "What's wrong?"
I shake my head, and sit up, covering my body with a bit of sheet. "Nothing. Nothing. I'm fine." I flash him a nervous grin and he looks a little hurt. "What? Oh, no, don't be upset, Wesley. It's just . . . " I trail off and he watches me intently. "I just, I just love you, and I love you so much it hurts and it's scary and I don't want to get hurt again."
He stares at me for a moment. "It's okay to be a bit frightened. Love is frightening. But I will never knowingly hurt you, Fred. I promise you that." He's so sincere. So . . .
And then I lean in and kiss him, and he responds gently.
****
And please don't bring me flowers
They only whisper the sweet things you say
****
And then he leans off the bed a bit and grabs a bouquet of gorgeous red roses and I burst into tears.
He looks alarmed, and reaches out to comfort me but I pull away.
"No! Stop! Stop being so loving and sexy and caring and thoughtful! Just stop being - stop being you."
Now he looks really alarmed and he slips his glasses on his face before sliding into a pair of sweatpants. "Fred . . . " he starts, but lets himself trail off.
"See?" I say. "Right there. Most men would have said something sarcastic about me being a cute psycho, but you bit back your words! Stop doing that."
****
And don't try to understand me
Your hands already know too much anyway
It makes me want to make you near me always
****
He sits back down on the bed beside me. "Why?" he questions, genuinely interested.
"Because - because I don't want to cross the line - the line that separates, you know, love and 'I can't live without you.' So please just stop making me love you."
He looks perplexed for a moment and then he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. "I'm just loving you how I've wanted to love you for some time. I can't help if you love me back. That was what I was going for, actually, and you can't tell me not to be nice to you, Fred. You can't tell me not to love you. I haven't a choice in the matter."
"There you go again being all sweet," I say with a blush, my eyes directed at the rumpled covers on me.
"I'm treating you how you deserve to be treated, and I refuse to treat you any other way." He says it and then he leans in and kisses me again, handing me the bouquet of flowers again.
This time I take them.
****
And when you look in my eyes
Please know my heart is in your hands
****
And then he gazes directly into my eyes, right before he slides down my body and under the sheet.
He tickles my inner thigh softly and I giggle.
I love him, I love him, I *love* him.
He begins to kiss my lower abdomen, working his way down and I close my eyes. I think I've died and gone to a heaven dimension. I let out a little sound halfway between a sigh and a moan and then . . .
Oh, God. This is too much.
"Stop," I say breathlessly.
He pauses for a moment and then raises his head. "What now?" he asks, slightly annoyed. Just that annoyance gives me relief and I shake my head.
"Nevermind."
****
It's nothing that I understand
But when in your arms you have complete power over me
****
After I climax, he holds me tight, softly stroking my body now and then. His hand lightly traces patterns on my stomach and around my breasts, across my collarbone and along my shoulders. I close my eyes and snuggle in closer to him. I am his, I realize. I am his, and he is mine, and that's all there is to it.
It doesn't matter if I try not to love him, or if I try to not . . . because . . . because the fact of the matter is that . . .
He smells so good and he's so kind and so sweet and so sexy and such an amazing lover and he even had the courtesy to get annoyed with me.
I realize that I want to be with him, and I want to love him, and screw the consequences.
****
So be gentle if you please
Because your hands are in my hair
But my heart is in your teeth
Baby, and it makes me want to make you near me always
****
His hands move up to my head, and they begin to slowly twirl a strand of my hair and I lean into him more as he touches me, just light, soft, innocent touches, but so intimate and loving that I want to cry.
"Wesley?" I say softly.
"Yes?"
"Will you . . . " he caresses the back of my neck " . . . will you, um, will you be careful with me?"
He grins and kisses my forehead. "Always."
"'Cause I don't want to, to lose you, you know?"
"My feelings exactly."
"And you will love me forever and never break my heart?"
"Only if you promise to do the same."
"I promise," I say softly, and now I start the touching too. My hand tentitively finds its way to his chest, stroking down the center of it gently.
****
Your hands are in my hair
But my heart is in your teeth
Baby, and it makes me want to make you near me always
****
He sits up and grins widely, his eyes sparkling once more. "Do you want something to eat?"
"Can we have tacos?" I ask, smiling too.
"Whatever you want."
"Okay, then tacos."
"Tacos, it is," he says, climbing out of bed and gathering up my clothing for me to put on.
"Wesley, I love you," I let slip out.
"I," he kises my forehead, "love," my cheek, "you," the tip of my nose, "too," my lips.
And now I feel confident enough to pull him into an embrace of my own before grinning and slipping my dress over my head.
****
Wanna be near you always
Wanna be near you always
Wanna be near you always
THE END
AUTHOR: Amberina
E-MAIL: amberina426@aol.com
AIM: Amberina426
RATING: A good, solid R, y'know, for the sex
PAIRING: Wesley/Fred (implied Cordelia/Gunn)
SPOILERS: Um, nothing?
SUMMARY: Fred loves Wesley so much it hurts.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, never was, never will be (probably.)
LYRICS: "Near Me Always" by Jewel. Which I so do not own.
FEEDBACK: Praise, contructive critism, and marriage proposals (provided, of course, that you are Alexis Denisof) all accepted gratefully. Flames are accepted a little less gratefully, and I think I'll pass on lawsuits.
ARCHIVING: UCSL and SU of course. Pylean Refugee and Wesleyan Aria can have if they want. Anyone else just ask and I'll say yes.
NOTE: I've never written anything from Fred's POV before, and my only previous work with Fred was a slash fic. I thought I handled her well though and no one seemed to have any complaints, so I figured I'd try her out first-person.
DEDICATION: Rach. 'Cause with the Wes/Fred and all . . . *sigh* and Topaz 'cause you know, Wesley! Naked Wesley! *sigh* Merry Christmas!
NEAR ME ALWAYS
By Amberina
Please don't say I love you
Those words touch me much too deeply
And they make my core tremble
Don't think you realize the effect you have over me
****
He lets me in, and as soon as he sees me his eyes light up. They actually flicker and then I swear they emmit a glow. I blush and giggle as he embraces me in a kiss, soft and sweet. He holds me close to him and I take in his scent. Mmm, he smells like - well, actually, like Wesley, which is a pretty good way to smell.
He nuzzles against my neck and his warm breath hits my skin electifying me head to toe. And then he says it. It's a slight whisper and I think that maybe I've misheard, but then he repeats it louder, his blue eyes staring into mine lovingly.
"I love you, Fred."
Tears form in my eyes but I hide it against his shoulder. He can't say he loves me. That means that - well, it means that he loves me. Just like Charles claimed to love me. Right before I walked in on him fucking Cordelia. But I know Wesley really does love me. But I thought Charles loved me, too.
And I love him, too. I love Wesley with all of my heart and I want to tell him that. That's exactly why I don't.
****
And please don't look at me like that
It just makes me want to make you near me always
****
He's looking at me when I raise my head, and the look in his eyes is much like when I first came in. Pure love. And it melts my heart and it melts me as a whole and I think for a moment that I did melt and that I am in a puddle at his feet. But then I snap out of my daydream and I realize that I am still solid Fred.
"I love you, too," I say softly, and I don't want him to hear, because if he hears then it will register in his brain that, yes, Fred does love him. And if he knows that I love him, he'd be more inclined to break my heart up into little itty-bitty pieces, and I'd like to keep my heart whole, thank you very much.
But he does hear it and his eyes light up even brighter. Charles' eyes used to light up like that. I love Wesley so much, and I couldn't handle it if he . . .
****
And please don't kiss me so sweet
It makes me crave a thousand kisses to follow
****
And then he kisses me again, more passionate this time, his tongue entering my mouth gently as he runs his hand up my back. My hands find their way to his hair and I twist them in it.
His lips are soft and warm against my own, his embrace similiar. I could do this forever, I think, and that's exactly why I pull away.
But he catches me by the arm, his beautiful eyes searching mine. "Fred?" he says softly, and I give in, slinking against him as he kisses me again, this time on the way to his bedroom.
****
And please don't touch me like that
It makes every other embrace seem pale and shallow
****
I fall back on the bed as he unbuttons his shirt, throwing it carelessly to the side. He leans down and kisses me again, and then he trails kisses down my neck and chest, biting the buttons of my blouse playfully when he reaches my clothing. I giggle and sigh. This couldn't get better.
I want to push him off, to tell him that this can't happen, that it will make me love him more than I already love him and if that were to happen my heart would burst and then if he . . . if he . . .
But I don't push him off and I don't tell him that it can't happen, because I want it to happen, and this want overpowers the want to keep my heart intact. So I pull him down on top of me while I fumble with his zipper, and he kisses me up my neck. I moan softly and his hands are under my dress . . .
Oh, god. He's ruining me for other men. Nothing could possibly compare to . . .
And then he's in me and he lavishes me with kisses as he makes love to me and if he keeps this up I'm going to love him more, and if I love him more then my heart surely will burst and I'm melting as he melts into me.
****
And please don't come so close
It just makes me want to make you near me always
****
After we're done, after it's over, and he holds me in his arms, I scoot away from him. This has to stop. I can't . . . oh, he's a cuddler. No, no, I can't . . .
"Fred?" he asks softly, "What's wrong?"
I shake my head, and sit up, covering my body with a bit of sheet. "Nothing. Nothing. I'm fine." I flash him a nervous grin and he looks a little hurt. "What? Oh, no, don't be upset, Wesley. It's just . . . " I trail off and he watches me intently. "I just, I just love you, and I love you so much it hurts and it's scary and I don't want to get hurt again."
He stares at me for a moment. "It's okay to be a bit frightened. Love is frightening. But I will never knowingly hurt you, Fred. I promise you that." He's so sincere. So . . .
And then I lean in and kiss him, and he responds gently.
****
And please don't bring me flowers
They only whisper the sweet things you say
****
And then he leans off the bed a bit and grabs a bouquet of gorgeous red roses and I burst into tears.
He looks alarmed, and reaches out to comfort me but I pull away.
"No! Stop! Stop being so loving and sexy and caring and thoughtful! Just stop being - stop being you."
Now he looks really alarmed and he slips his glasses on his face before sliding into a pair of sweatpants. "Fred . . . " he starts, but lets himself trail off.
"See?" I say. "Right there. Most men would have said something sarcastic about me being a cute psycho, but you bit back your words! Stop doing that."
****
And don't try to understand me
Your hands already know too much anyway
It makes me want to make you near me always
****
He sits back down on the bed beside me. "Why?" he questions, genuinely interested.
"Because - because I don't want to cross the line - the line that separates, you know, love and 'I can't live without you.' So please just stop making me love you."
He looks perplexed for a moment and then he tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. "I'm just loving you how I've wanted to love you for some time. I can't help if you love me back. That was what I was going for, actually, and you can't tell me not to be nice to you, Fred. You can't tell me not to love you. I haven't a choice in the matter."
"There you go again being all sweet," I say with a blush, my eyes directed at the rumpled covers on me.
"I'm treating you how you deserve to be treated, and I refuse to treat you any other way." He says it and then he leans in and kisses me again, handing me the bouquet of flowers again.
This time I take them.
****
And when you look in my eyes
Please know my heart is in your hands
****
And then he gazes directly into my eyes, right before he slides down my body and under the sheet.
He tickles my inner thigh softly and I giggle.
I love him, I love him, I *love* him.
He begins to kiss my lower abdomen, working his way down and I close my eyes. I think I've died and gone to a heaven dimension. I let out a little sound halfway between a sigh and a moan and then . . .
Oh, God. This is too much.
"Stop," I say breathlessly.
He pauses for a moment and then raises his head. "What now?" he asks, slightly annoyed. Just that annoyance gives me relief and I shake my head.
"Nevermind."
****
It's nothing that I understand
But when in your arms you have complete power over me
****
After I climax, he holds me tight, softly stroking my body now and then. His hand lightly traces patterns on my stomach and around my breasts, across my collarbone and along my shoulders. I close my eyes and snuggle in closer to him. I am his, I realize. I am his, and he is mine, and that's all there is to it.
It doesn't matter if I try not to love him, or if I try to not . . . because . . . because the fact of the matter is that . . .
He smells so good and he's so kind and so sweet and so sexy and such an amazing lover and he even had the courtesy to get annoyed with me.
I realize that I want to be with him, and I want to love him, and screw the consequences.
****
So be gentle if you please
Because your hands are in my hair
But my heart is in your teeth
Baby, and it makes me want to make you near me always
****
His hands move up to my head, and they begin to slowly twirl a strand of my hair and I lean into him more as he touches me, just light, soft, innocent touches, but so intimate and loving that I want to cry.
"Wesley?" I say softly.
"Yes?"
"Will you . . . " he caresses the back of my neck " . . . will you, um, will you be careful with me?"
He grins and kisses my forehead. "Always."
"'Cause I don't want to, to lose you, you know?"
"My feelings exactly."
"And you will love me forever and never break my heart?"
"Only if you promise to do the same."
"I promise," I say softly, and now I start the touching too. My hand tentitively finds its way to his chest, stroking down the center of it gently.
****
Your hands are in my hair
But my heart is in your teeth
Baby, and it makes me want to make you near me always
****
He sits up and grins widely, his eyes sparkling once more. "Do you want something to eat?"
"Can we have tacos?" I ask, smiling too.
"Whatever you want."
"Okay, then tacos."
"Tacos, it is," he says, climbing out of bed and gathering up my clothing for me to put on.
"Wesley, I love you," I let slip out.
"I," he kises my forehead, "love," my cheek, "you," the tip of my nose, "too," my lips.
And now I feel confident enough to pull him into an embrace of my own before grinning and slipping my dress over my head.
****
Wanna be near you always
Wanna be near you always
Wanna be near you always
THE END