Title: Beyond the Veil
Author: Foxhunt2blue
Summary: No one really chooses who they fall in love with. 
It’s how they accept that love that counts.
Rated: R
Pairing: Gunn/Wes (OMG! I actually wrote this pairing!)
Disclaimer: Joss owns them, but I am contemplating 
feeding Joss to the carnivorous plant at work so I can 
own them!!! *insert maniacal laughter
Feedback: Yes! Feed me Seymour! Feed me now!
E-mail: foxhunter2blue@peoplepc.com
Author’s Note: This is my first foray into Gunn/Wes, but 
hey---first time for everything! I wrote this a while back 
for my sweet and wonderful co-writer Pet’s birthday. 
Hope you enjoy like she did.
 
***
 
He'd never allowed himself to truly accept his feelings.
It wasn't something he cared much to do. After all, he was 
a wise ass, tough as nails, street fighter---a brother with 
attitude.
 
When he'd first met the ex-Watcher most days all he 
could do was roll his eyes and snort. He wasn't sure when 
his feelings had changed about the tall skinny man he 
nicknamed 'English'. Maybe, he thought, it was that night 
on the mean streets of LA when that bumbling, skinny, 
annoyance of a man had placed himself in danger to 
protect him.
 
It was as clear as day---that memory.
 
Terror had wafted off the man as he came to terms with 
what would surely be his death. His long graceful fingers 
clutching at his abdomen as he slumped against the wall, 
sliding to the ground. His skin had been pale, as winter 
snow or at least what Gunn imagined snow must look like; 
he'd never seen snow up close and personal.
 
Los Angeles wasn't a town where you did.
 
That night as they fought, he and Cordy, to keep Wes 
from slipping beyond the veil he had felt something crack 
inside. 
 
Or maybe it was outside?
 
He'd never been quite sure.
 
After his sister had died, he'd tucked the final brick into 
place in the wall he'd been building since he'd been a child. 
Suddenly that wall was slowly cracking as he looked into 
Wes' unfocused eyes, his life's blood seeping between his 
pale hands, soaking the cotton of his shirt.
 
He'd woke, the next morning, sitting by Wes' bed in ICU 
and swore that he wasn't going to go there. Brothers 
were not lovers of men. He'd settled the churning in his 
gut by telling himself lies. That it had been part of the 
voodoo magic that had raised those dead cops from the 
grave. That had to be it, he reasoned.
 
***
 
As the days passed into weeks, then months, he settled 
into a comforting cocoon of denial.
 
He hung out at the hotel, helped out the gang with 
Angel's mission, and tried to reconcile himself with other 
more important things that tormented him. Like the fact 
he was a self-proclaimed vampire killer who was now 
working for what his homies still insisted was the enemy--
-soul or no soul.
 
Soon he became closer to them than the very kids he'd 
grown up with on the streets. A vampire with a soul, an 
ex-May queen, a green skinned demon who had a set of 
balls on him far larger than a demon had a right, too. 
 
Then there was Wes.
 
There had been late nights when he decided to stay up 
cleaning weapons just so he could be near him. Of course, 
that wasn't it at all, his inner voice would convince him. 
 
Hell no! Charles Gunn was not a fag---no homos here---
besides neither was Wes. Never mind the way the man 
moved, the grace of his hands as he turned the yellowed 
pages of ancient texts, or even how his clear blue eyes 
would sparkle when he discovered what he often 
searched for in those pages.
 
Then there was the way he often caught Angel glancing 
at him from beneath dark lashes as he watched Wes.
 
Maybe Angel knew, he thought. 
 
Knew what? There wasn't anything to know---was there?
 
***
 
Then there was Fred.
 
He was never sure why he'd jumped the Fred train. Maybe 
it was because she was tall and slender, because she was 
real damn smart, or maybe it was the glasses. Or maybe, 
just maybe it was because she was the closest to a 
certain ex-Watcher his conditioning would allow him to 
get.
 
There were nights when he would find himself buried 
deep in her exquisite warmth, his hips pumping madly, his 
eyes closed, and a name dancing at the back of his 
tongue he could never speak. 
 
Not aloud at any rate.
 
He'd run his fingers through her silky dark hair and find 
himself wishing it were shorter. His lips would wander 
down her throat, latching onto one nipple, causing her to 
moan and he wished that those moans were a few 
octaves deeper. And just those thoughts would make him 
come hard and fast. Afterwards he would lie next to her 
wondering if she suspected what he imagined as they 
made love.
 
The guilt began to eat him up inside. So when given the 
opportunity to escape from a relationship that had never 
been he took it. He pushed Fred away and settled for 
lonely nights. Nights beneath hot steaming water with a 
bar of soap and the tight grip of his hand as he fantasized 
about tight, warmth that he'd never know.
 
***
 
There had been far too many nights over the years.
Now he stood in a dark, storm soaked alley listening as 
Illyria spoke calmly of Wes' death. The scent of his own 
blood sharp and tangy in his nostrils. He could have lain 
down right then and there. He could have done a lot of 
things, but Charles Gunn wasn't a quitter. If he had been, 
he'd have never survived this long.
 
His heart cracked as he realized he'd never see those 
bright, intelligent, sapphire eyes again. He'd been given 
more than one opportunity to confess the truth to Wes, 
but he never had. Rather than speak three simple words 
he chose denial over truth.
 
He wouldn't let Wes' death be in vain.
 
All he'd ever wanted was to make up for all the pain he'd 
caused the man. If not for him, Wes would have been 
happy with Fred.
 
***
 
It never crossed his mind that Wes, though he did love 
Fred, loved him far more. His fight with his sanity had 
been because he blamed himself for Fred's death. And to 
him Fred was Gunn's she always would be and he had 
failed to protect her.
 
***
 
Gunn fell to his knees with a grunt of pain as Illyria took 
another demon's head. She swung her hand out a 
shimmering blue shield of light encircling her and Gunn as 
she knelt next to the dying man.
 
"She knew...human."
 
Blinking Gunn glanced up into Illyria's eerie blue eyes. 
 
"What you talkin' about...?" Coughing he closed his eyes 
against the pain as the coppery thickness filled his mouth.
 
"Of your need for Wesley." She blinked those wide blue 
eyes as Gunn laughed. "I do not see the humor in that 
statement Charles."
 
"You...wouldn't...Blue..." Gunn gasped out as she took his 
trembling body in her arms.
 
Illyria snorted. "You humans are curious beasts. Some of 
you see only within the box which you have been raised 
to know. Then there are those like Wesley. He saw, but 
chose not to reveal what he knew to be fact."
 
"What would that fact be...?" Gunn chuckled, his face 
twisting in pain at the movement.
 
Cocking her head, Illyria looked up at the battle raging 
outside her shield with a distant expression. "That you 
'loved' him and that he 'loved'..."
 
"...you, Charles."
 
Gunn looked up at the familiar voice, his eyes wide and 
disbelieving. "Eng...English? But..."
 
Looking down Wes smiled at Gunn, a soft light radiating 
around his body. "I am, Charles."
 
A fit of coughing hit Gunn and more blood stained his lips. 
"Don't under...stand..."
 
"I am here to take you home, Charles. For you this battle 
is over." Wes extended his hand out to Gunn. "There is no 
need for you to fight any longer. You were a brave 
warrior and as such, you have earned your final reward. 
Take my hand, Charles."
 
Closing his eyes Charles Gunn reached out with blood 
stained fingers taking the proffered hand of the only soul 
he'd ever truly loved. As their fingers touched a cloud of 
peace descended over his pain wracked body. Slowly he 
was pulled to his feet and as he stood, the pain slipped 
away like the rain had slipped down his skin. 
 
"Open your eyes, Charles." Wes whispered softly.
 
With a relieved sigh, Gunn's dark eyes drifted open and his 
mouth fell open in shock. They were no longer in the dank 
alley, but standing in a snow-covered field. He blinked and 
glanced at Wes as he dropped his hand.
 
"Where?"
 
Wes laughed. "Whatever you believe it to be. Heaven...I 
believe would be your word."
 
"Heaven?" Gunn frowned as he turned in a circle taking in 
the scene with disbelief.
 
A forest rose into tall mountains, the evergreen branches 
heavy with crystals of ice and snow. In the distance a 
house stood, smoke drifting from the tall chimney and 
icicles dripping like diamonds from the snow covered roof.
 
"That is not my kinda' crib, English."
 
"No...No it isn't, Charles. Of course it is mine."
 
Gunn turned his brow crinkling. "This has got to be some 
kind of joke..."
 
Crystal blue eyes studied him with a look he'd never saw 
before, then Wes spoke, his voice a rough whisper. "Do 
you wish to go else where? Perhaps a..."
 
"Naw man...I just don't get..."
 
His words stuttered out as Wes lifted his hand cupping his 
jaw. "Fools..." Wes whispered as he leaned in brushing his 
lips against Gunn's. "We are all fools on earth. Wasting our 
lives trying not to be who we are." Wes drew back his eyes 
shining with tears.
 
"I...we..."
 
"Anything is possible beyond the veil, Charles."
 
"Dammit!" Gunn growled his lips spreading in a wide smile 
as he pulled Wes into his arms. He kissed him then like he'd 
always dreamed of doing in that other life. Pulling back, 
he smiled one finger caressing Wes' lips. "Anything, 
English?"
 
"Anything."
 
~Finis~