Conrad had gone to Mike first. For a multitude of reasons. He lived closer, so it was easier to get to him. But the more important reason was that he wanted to gather himself before he saw Wes. He didn't want to be a blubbering mess when he saw him, did he?
So Conrad tried his best to get his feelings out before he saw his dear assassin. Tried to put the pieces together, tried to freshen up. He probably smelled like death and god only knew what else, so he changed his clothes and at least attempted to make himself look presentable.
They had been through this before. Conrad had died once already. But Conrad and Wesley hadn't been romantically involved when Sloan shot him. Things were different now. And it, unfortunately, made things harder. The fear of losing one another had become greater, it's impact far more meaningful.
It was late morning when Conrad finally pulled himself out of Mike's room and trekked his way down to Wesley's. He was oddly nervous as he stood outside the other man's room. Wesley had told him he could knock. Any time. And in the past, Conrad hadn't been sure if he would ever take advantage of that perk. He didn't want to annoy Rogue or walk in on something he didn't want to see.
But today was a bit different. Conrad wasn't just visiting for shits and giggles. He'd been dead for about a week now and damn it, he felt like he deserved to see Wesley after losing his life again. At the hands of a friend, no less.
So he knocked, just loud enough to be heard. "Wes? You awake?"
He never thought he could hate a place before. Everything about the new city grated on his nerves and sickened his stomach. Even the smell of the sea made him nauseous. Hearing anyone talk about any good times they had in the city was even worse. He tried not to think why it bothered him.
He tried not think at all.
Vampires were new to him. Werewolves a little less. He'd found out one had been living in the hotel right before they'd landed in Seattle, funny enough. More than one actually. But the ones in the city were completely different. They were big and mean, worse than anything he'd gone after before. He was lucky that Fox had gone out with him. Stupid lucky. Wes hadn't been worried about making it back to the hotel alive. Again, stupid. Maybe if he had, Fox wouldn't have gotten hurt again trying to save his dumb ass.
But he'd been angry. And it was easier to be blinded by that than deal with the grief that was breaking him up from the inside.
The night before had been a long one. After surviving the attack (barely), he'd drag himself to bed and pass out before dawn. The knock on the door hours later sounded like a gunshot. There was a ringing in his ears but he could hear the sound of someone's muffled voice through the door. He didn't know what time it was but it was almost noon. Looking across the room, he could see Rogue had already left. Was that Fox at the door?
He'd slept in his clothes again. And forgotten to do something about that black eye. Casualties of being reckless. He hadn't even taken off his shoes? Well all the better for Fox. He was already set to go. Wrinkled and looking like death, he trudged his way to the door. When he opened it and saw who it was, he froze. He'd never been so close to fainting before. "You ...you're back."
Wes did look rough, and god did Conrad's heart ache because of it. The swollen black eye, the wrinkled clothes, his messy hair -- Poor, sweet Wes. What the hell had happened to him while he'd been away?
He still looked handsome, though. He always would in Conrad's eyes, no matter how roughed up and unkempt he was.
Conrad had been so convinced that he had been able to get his shit together in Mike's room. Now here he was, eyes brimming with tears, crying for about the third time since he'd woken up. He reached out, his fingers just barely touching Wesley's hand. He knew this was a shock to him. It was a shock for both of them. Better take it slow rather than push him too hard..
"I'm sorry, I didn't think to call. Or text. I just wanted to see you." The pads of his fingers brushed over Wesley's knuckles, slowly making their way up the back of his hand. "Can I come in?"
At this point, even with all the insane shit that was going on, Wes felt like he could tell the difference between when he was dreaming and when he was awake. And he was definitely awake right now. It was hard to believe that Conrad was alive again. He still remembered how cold the other man had felt.
How many times had he wished for this exact moment, to see Conrad warm and breathing again? Only now that it was here and happening, it wasn't relief he felt first but fear. Because he could disappear again. Die again. Leave again.
But fuck fear. He'd let it control him too much already.
That small touch was enough to break him. He threw himself forward, grabbing at Conrad's shoulders and wrapping his arms around his neck as tight as he could, pushing himself up as high as he could on his toes just to be as close as he could get. Conrad had asked to come in but Wes just hung onto him. "I didn't know if-" he choked, glad Conrad couldn't see him crying but knew he could probably hear it anyway. "-if you were coming back."
Conrad couldn't see Wes crying, but he could feel it. Hot, wet tears that mingled with his own, because Conrad had pressed their cheeks together as he drew him in for a hug. Conrad didn't even attempt to stop that surge of emotion that rose within him this time around. It was pointless to try to shove those feelings back down. Not right now. Not after everything they'd been through.
"Can't get rid of me that easily," he whispered, nuzzling a gentle kiss to Wesley's jaw. He wouldn't break that embrace, but he would wrap his arms around Wes a bit tighter, shuffling both of them past the threshold and into the other man's room. Conrad was weird about being out in the hall. It made him uncomfortable. Made him feel exposed. He'd get over it. He knew he would. But right now, being out in the open like that made him jumpy. Jumpy to the point where he couldn't fully appreciate the heat radiating off of Wesley's body.
He rested his dear assassin's back against the wall once they were inside, leaning away just enough to rest his forehead against Wesley's. "I'm sorry," he continued, his voice still low in volume, "I'm so sorry that I upset you. I was stupid, I let my guard down." But Conrad wouldn't go into what had happened. Not yet. He'd sidestep it for now. "You look like you got into a bit of trouble while I was gone. What happened to your eye?"
He was trying to hold it all together but Conrad smelled like he always had and he couldn't cope. Anything he tried to keep in just kept spilling out down his face. He would be an ugly sniffling mess if he didn't pull himself together. If only it didn't feel so good to have Conrad hug him back that much tighter. There was no getting rid of him either. He would have wrapped his whole body around the tall blonde next, climbed him even if Conrad hadn't moved them inside.
"You apologize too much." He actually smiled in spite of the heaviness he felt. The longer they were touching, the more real it felt and the more he believed it was true. Conrad was alive. Alive. And Wes refused to tear himself away. He moved a hand up Conrad's neck and curled his fingers possessively through his hair. Trouble? He didn't want to talk about it. "It's nothing. It'll heal."
He didn't want to hear what happened. He didn't want to remember any of it. If he looked out the window, if Conrad was back, did that mean that they'd left the city? Forever, he hoped. "Are you hungry? You have to be starving. I could make you something?"
He huffed out a laugh. Okay, fine. Maybe he deserved that. "Hey, that's my line." Well. It was Fox's, technically. But Conrad had also used it once or twice.
"I am hungry," he murmured, his lips moving down Wesley's temple to his cheek, not minding in the slightest that his skin was still salty and damp, "But this is much more important to me right now." Which was funny, in a way, because Conrad was rarely hungry. He really didn't eat all that much. But currently, he was ravenous enough to eat a horse. But going down to the kitchen would mean leaving Wesley's room and at the moment, Conrad really did not want to budge.
He dipped lower, pressing a gentle kiss to Wesley's lips. Very gentle, as if he feared Wes might collapse if he kissed him too hard. Just in case, his arms maintained their hold upon the small of his back, holding him there against the wall. "Can we.. Wes, I just want to lie in bed with you for a little while, if that's okay. I'll eat later. I just want you right now."
Which might have seemed like a silly thing to request, but even now, Conrad wanted to be mindful of Wesley's roommate and if Rogue was around or planned on returning to the room anytime soon, he certainly didn't want to make her uncomfortable.
It was funny. Wes was always about food here. But he'd barely touched anything in days. If it wasn't for Fox constantly reminding him to eat, he might have ended up as hungry as Conrad had to be right now. He could hear the noise it was making at the mention of eating. But it wasn't the kitchen that Conrad wanted to get into.
"You want to stay here?" It was a sweet request but Wes didn't know if it was a good idea. Lying around was the last thing he wanted to do these days. He'd been going, going, going for days. As if he could outrun everything. He only stopped long enough to sleep. And now he also realized that he hadn't showered since the day before and after dealing with last night's attack, his bed looked as bad as he did.
But a kiss was all it took to keep him from arguing. Sweet pickles, had he really become that easy? He nodded, then pulled them both away from the wall. There was no way of knowing where Rogue was or when she'd be back. Maybe a quick text to her could give them at least a few hours of privacy.
He had to let go of Conrad so he could at least make the bed a bit more presentable and not just a mess of pillows, sheets and blankets all tossed together. It looked more like a nest with everything bunched together but he smoothed it all out. "Sorry," he winced as he looked over at Conrad apologetically. "I ...missed laundry day." He shifted awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. "Where did you wake up?"
There was another smile pulling at his lips. If Wesley thought for a second that missing a shower or having a messy bed was going to keep him from cuddling the shit out of him, he was sorely mistaken. "Now who's apologizing unnecessarily?" Conrad leaned in, sneaking another kiss to Wesley's cheek. "Don't be ridiculous, dear. I don't care what you smell like right now. I really don't. Unless that's an invitation to strip your clothes off and do your laundry for you later, because I'll take that offer."
Conrad reached out, carefully pushing Wesley back onto the mattress. He then leaned down, tugging Wesley's shoes off. It might have seemed backwards, this whole interaction. But Conrad had already come to terms with what had happened to him. He didn't like it. He wasn't going to be able to sleep unless he was beside Mike or Wesley for at least a few weeks. But he wasn't in shock anymore.
Wesley, on the other hand, was rather obviously still processing all of this. And Conrad wanted to do everything in his power to help ground him.
"I woke up in my room," he spoke, toeing his own shoes off and joining Wesley in bed, "Can't really say I'd like to go back there anytime soon, but I don't think the hotel is going to give me much of a choice whenever I fall asleep." He wiggled his way closer, wrapping his arms around Wesley and tugging him close again, this time trying to get comfortable upon the mattress. He wouldn't point out that he had some fresh scars, nor would he go into detail about why he wanted to avoid his room. But he would take a more serious tone when he added, "Wes, there's something I need to tell you."
He was taking off his shoes. Alive for barely a few hours maybe and he was already doing more for him than Wesley had done for himself in days. The straight-up romantic audacity of this man.
Maybe not so straight.
Wesley couldn't help a tiny smirk showing through as he pulled himself further up on the bed. "If by laundry you mean bend me over the dryer, then yes." But resting together in bed next to each other sounded just as good too. Wes waited, watching him as he took his own shoes off and slipped into the bed with him. He could watch that a million times and never grow tired of the sight. His bed. Conrad's bed. Maybe some day, they could be the same thing.
Conrad had died before. It had hurt then too but this time the cut had gone deeper. He'd left a piece of himself in that room. He could understand why Conrad wasn't in a hurry to go back there. Neither was he. "You can stay here as long as you want to. If I had my way, I'd take us both as far from here as I possibly could." He slid in closer, mixing his legs in with Conrad's. "No monsters. No rules. Maybe a nice resort ...since you missed the last one."
He didn't like the tone change. There was no question what it was about. He didn't care right now. Wes shook his head. "Wait. Don't. Not yet." It was hard to keep from crying again as he looked into his favorite blue eyes. He bit his lip to keep it from trembling. "You missed out on Seattle. It wasn't any fun without you." He touched Conrad's cheek, dragging the side of his finger slowly over his warm skin. "I missed you too much." He pulled himself up a little more, nuzzling their noses together before teasing Conrad's lips with a soft kiss.
"No, hang on, Wes, it's important --" What Conrad was going to say was (funnily enough) not about Pree or what had happened at all. Yet he still hesitated when Wesley told him to wait. Because it was something that was just as difficult to spit out as who his killer was. So he took a deep breath, cutting himself off and nodding. Later, perhaps.
..and by later, he had thought, maybe, tomorrow. Or the day after. Not five minutes later.
Conrad didn't mind avoiding the subject of his death. He did want Wesley to know who was behind it, difficult as it was to admit. But beyond that, Conrad didn't see the need to go into great detail. He had two new scars - bite marks from where Pree's fangs had sunk deep into his wrists. That was more than enough to tell the tale over what had happened.
No, what Conrad had to say was warmer than that, at least. He leaned up, meeting that soft kiss with one of his own. A kiss that slowly deepened, his tongue catching Wesley's teeth. It was intimate in nature, but airing on the side of affectionate. He wasn't trying to get Wesley worked up. He was simply trying to convey just how much he cared for him; how happy he was to be here with him.
His hands were on him: one smoothing down his back, the other in his hair. He just could not stop kissing him, but somewhere in between those sweet exchanges, he managed to whisper, "Wesley, I love you." And maybe, Wes wouldn't notice. Or wouldn't think anything of it. Delirious ramblings from a previously dead man. All the same, there was a spike of fear that rose within him. He knew it wasn't the sort of thing his assassin was eager to hear. But Conrad had missed his opportunities to say it before. He'd never forgive himself if he let this chance pass him by again.
It was easy to make assumptions, right or wrong. Wes had done it his whole life. He was quick to judge people. Experience had taught him it was better that way. It let him off the hook for high expectations. People often disappointed him in one way or another. He was sure he'd been the same to a few people too. It was a self-given title he'd stubbornly held onto for years. Wesley Gibson; the disappointment.
What he really should have called himself was a coward. There were too many chances he hadn't taken. Too many could-have's and should-have's. Because why? What was he really afraid of? There were worse things in life than failure and rejection. Losing the person that made him think about couple's vacations and old-person shit like sitting on a porch drinking tea together? That was worse.
He wanted to say them. Those three little words. They'd been on his mind for days now, regretting not saying them before. How long he'd felt them, he didn't know. He'd pretended like he hadn't, like it was just something that would pass or that it wasn't what he thought. Then, when that chance was taken from him, only then did he realize he'd fucked up. What if he never got the chance to say it? What if Conrad had died thinking that he'd just partly cared for him..
But he was content in this moment to let this kiss do the talking for him. Until the moment he heard those words. Only they weren't coming out of his mouth. They'd come from Conrad's. Somewhere in between those earnest lips and playful tongue, they'd slipped out. Wes pulled back and looked into his boyfriend's face. Something cracked inside him. He grabbed the front of Conrad's shirt and hid his face in the folds, laughing and crying until he was a sniffling mess.
"You jerk," his voice came out muffled but he was smiling. "I was going to say it first."
Oooooh shit. Conrad's heart nearly stilled in his chest all over again when Wesley leaned back. Fuck. He'd only been back a few hours and he had already screwed things up. He really should have learned by now not to be too pushy. And god only knew what had happened while he'd been gone. Wesley could have easily drifted. This was too much again. And he should have known it.
Needless to say, initially, Conrad didn't understand why Wesley was crying again. But once he caught on, the Brit was right there with him, misty-eyed and grinning like an idiot. And here Conrad had assumed the opposite, that it was a negative reaction. Honestly, Conrad hadn't even been expecting Wesley to say it in return. He hadn't been expecting anything. He just wanted Wesley to know that he was loved. That he was cared for immensely, that he meant the world to Conrad.
But knowing that Wesley had planned on saying it first? That had him reeling, in the best way possible. He laughed, his palm rubbing Wesley's back. "Were you? Well. I still haven't heard you say it --" Conrad was partially teasing. At the same time, he was curious to see if he could actually get it out of him. He tilted his head to the side, trying to look him in the face. "Say it, Wes.."
It didn't matter who said it first. Honestly, Wes thought it was pure dumb luck on his part that Conrad felt that way about him in the first place. He'd never expected him to say it, much less actually have those feelings for him. He definitely didn't deserve it. But he was going to take it and run. He'd never thought a person could make him feel like this like he was drowning and flying at the same time.
He used his fingers and the back of his hand to try and dry his face instead of Conrad's shirt. The sound of Conrad laughing almost had him tearing up again but he sucked it all in and steadied himself after a few breaths. Leaning back, he looked up again into that sweet face. That face he wanted to see every morning and every night and all of the moments in between.
"I love you, James Conrad. Every inch of you." He sniffed, his only regret being an ugly mess right now in probably was going to be one of the most important moments of his life. "I love you and I'm sorry it took me so long to realize that. I sure as hell don't deserve you," Wes kissed his chin. "But I want to be around to try."
Conrad didn't feel like he had any tears left in him to cry. His well had run dry minutes ago. Yet he somehow managed to squeeze out a few more, his entire body overflowing with joy and excitement and shock.
He had a good idea of how Wesley operated. He understood that trust was a problem and exclusivity wasn't really his thing. Probably still wasn't. But because of Wesley's frame of mind mixed with Conrad's own self-doubt and denial, the Brit honestly never expected this to happen. And hearing it - seeing it on Wesley's face - was the best feeling in the world.
Conrad tugged Wesley down to his chest, his fingers trailing lightly down his spine. "I don't know why you say that. That you don't deserve me. I think.. I think we both deserve this: a chance at being happy. Or at the very least, I feel I deserve a chance to prove to you that I mean it."
There was a quiet lull that followed. Conrad simply held Wesley in his arms, hugging him to his chest and drawing invisible shapes upon his back with his fingers. Warm, comfortable silence. Just listening to each other breathe and basking in one another's body heat. All the while, Conrad actively made sure he didn't fall back asleep. Getting zapped back to his room now was the last thing he wanted.
After a few minutes of peaceful cuddling, Conrad softly spoke. "You know what? I do think I'm getting hungry." He certainly felt more alive now, through he still wasn't super eager to leave Wesley's room. "Shame we can't have something delivered, huh? Romantic breakfast for two would be nice."
"I know you mean it." He shuffled a leg a bit higher, knocking their knees together as he tried to move closer. As if it were possible right now. Conrad felt like a small heater and all he wanted to do was scoot in and soak up every bit of warmth. "You show it without saying it."
He had felt it before in every look Conrad sent his way. Every time he asked if he was alright. When he took his hand, even if it was just for a few seconds. There had been so many signs. So many different times Conrad had probably tried to tell him in some way. He'd been too stubborn to hear it. Which was hilarious to think about when they had started out the exact opposite. Wes had never imagined he'd get Conrad to admit that he liked him, much less loved him. But in the end, he'd end up being the Bitter Betty, hadn't he?
He wouldn't have been able to fall asleep. I love you kept echoing in his head. He was fine with letting Conrad rest for however long he needed. Wes didn't know what being dead felt like but from what he'd seen and heard, it had to be exhausting. He was plenty happy to be snuggled. It gave him plenty of room to kiss all the tear-stained spots on Conrad's shirt.
The mention of food did make his own stomach growl impatiently. Wes chuckled and poked at Conrad's stomach to see just how hungry he was. "I could go for a burger right now. Bacon. BBQ sauce. The messy ones always taste the best." It was a shame they couldn't order something in. Moving sounded so annoying right now. He pulled himself up and propped himself up on his elbow. "I'd bet Fox could bring us something but I don't know if I'm ready to share you just yet." Wes grinned, playful. While he was staring though, his eyes caught two new tiny scars. Without thinking, he lifted his hand to touch them.
The thought of seeing Fox again did make him happy. Had it been any other day, Conrad might have been on board with begging her to bring their lazy selves food. But he also agreed that he wanted more time alone with Wesley. Just a little bit. So maybe, Conrad could brave trekking down to the kitchen.
He watched Wesley eye his fresh scars. Conrad would stick to his word. He wouldn't talk about anything Wesley didn't want to talk about, save for one thing. One detail that the Brit found to be sad, but necessary. Because they'd have to confront it eventually. Sooner rather than later, in fact. Especially since the person behind all of this was relatively social and didn't hide in his room all that often.
Conrad reached out, taking Wesley's hand away from the scar, bringing his fingers to his lips to kiss them. He then exhaled a sigh, his eyes meeting with his boyfriend's. "It was Pree."
Based off of Conrad's conversation with Mike, the identity of his killer had been a mystery. So, presumably, Pree had not come forward about what had happened. Confronting all of this was going to be problematic and frankly, Conrad didn't know where to start. It was easy to hold Sloan accountable for shooting him in New York. It was less easy to point the finger at a friend, who (as far as Conrad was aware) hadn't killed him on purpose. It had been an accident.
But it had happened, nonetheless, and Wesley deserved to know the truth. "I don't know what I'm going to do if I see him, Wes. I'm... probably going to freak out." Hence why Conrad was so reluctant to go out into public..
Fox would be relieved to see Conrad. Wes knew that for certain. Partly because she had to know Wes would start toning himself down again and partly because he could see that slowly, Fox was coming around to accepting Conrad as part of her circle. In her own way, of course. He was glad they got along beyond just civil chit-chat. This was the closest to a family that he'd ever had. Which was why it hurt so much when that family broke.
He hadn't wanted to bring up what happened. Honestly, they could have gone the whole day without bringing it up. It was only that he felt he could count the scars and marks and freckles on Conrad's body and since these were new, he'd have to add them to the pile. Even though he hated them. Guess there was something to hate even more.
"Pree. Our Pree?" Wes could have laughed. He couldn't think of anyone more gentle and kind than Pree. Conrad had to be wrong. He sat up straighter and stared into his boyfriend's face, eyes narrowing further and further. What was it that Mike had said about wondering who Conrad would trust in his room?
Wes turned and glared at the end of the bed. He could feel himself go hot all over. Fuck, he didn't want to ask how it happened. Making Conrad relive that moment had to be close to torture. And Pree was still walking around. "How did I not know?" His hand twitched at his side, instinctually going for a gun that wasn't there. Conrad was the only reason he wasn't jumping out of bed, still holding onto his hand like a lifeline.
He was angry but Conrad ..he looked sick at the idea of going out in the hotel. Wes had to force those murderous thoughts away. For now. "You can do whatever you want. I'll be there with you," he promised in what he hoped was a comforting tone. He grinned and leaned in. "I'll be your bodyguard."
Conrad could see that look turn sour on Wesley's face and it was utterly heartbreaking to watch. Honestly, even if Wesley had asked Conrad to elaborate, he wouldn't have been able to. The Brit didn't remember much. He could recall letting Pree into his room. He vaguely remembered their conversation leading up to Pree feeding on him, but beyond that, everything was a blur. He reached out, touching Wesley's hand in an attempt to comfort him.
"I don't think it was intentional, Wes. He was a freshly-turned vampire. I don't believe he was fully in control of what he was doing.." But Conrad's sympathy for the situation could only stretch so far. He had been a literal victim of those circumstances, and so had Mike and Wesley, having to deal with the aftermath. Even accidental murders had repercussions, and Conrad knew for a fact that he'd become an even bigger recluse for the upcoming weeks.
But hey, at least he'd have some damn good company while he hid in his room. Or someone else's. Poor Mike wasn't going to be able to get any writing done and Rogue was likely going to get sick of seeing Conrad's face.
All the same, Conrad very much liked the idea of Wesley being his bodyguard. Apparently he needed one, if he was going to let himself get killed so easily like that. He leaned in to meet Wesley, pressing a kiss to his lips. "Mm, well, hopefully you won't have to put those assassin skills to use while I make us burgers, even if I do think it's sexy." Conrad smiled, already visibly more relaxed than he had been moments prior, "C'mon, love cup. Let's go grab some food."