Secret Slasha – The Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel Slash Fanfiction Secret Santa Project
Secret Slasha – The Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Angel Slash Fanfiction Secret Santa Project

Chocolate Toffee
By Nancy
For Isabeau

Toffee. It's what he smells like. I know that's what it is because it's what he's always sucking on. Watching that smooth, golden candy slip between his lips to be caressed and rolled by his slick tongue. On occasion I can hear the hard morsel clack against his perfect white teeth. The sound itself makes me shudder.

He's got them on him all the time. They're in his top right-hand desk drawer. He carries a few in his pocket. I'm willing to bet that he's got bags of them lying around in his apartment. I wouldn't know, seeing as I haven't had the privilege of being invited over.

I guess he's caught me staring a few too many times. The first time he offered me one I just put it in my pocket without thinking. Now he always gives me one whenever I don't avert my eyes quickly enough and he catches me watching so enviously. I've got a stock of them growing at home from when I empty my pockets at night and separate them out from various change and papers.

I don't eat them. I know he thinks I want to taste the candy, which I do. I want to taste it directly from his mouth. I want to lick it from the underside of his tongue. I want to gather every bit of the taste of it from the roof of his mouth and the insides of his cheeks. When the candy is gone, I want to taste only him.

It will never happen, though. I saw how he was with Virginia. When he wants a body, he goes for it. There was no hesitation in him with her. That's how I know that I just don't quite fit the bill. He must know I'm interested. Everyone else does. If he'd wanted me, he would have had me by now.


He's been sipping at that hot chocolate for nearly half an hour. It must be cool enough for his more typical guzzle by now. It's got to be wonderful cocoa. He's got this peculiar savoring look on his face. Like something tastes magical. I imagine it's how I look while eating my toffees. I know he seemed very envious when I started sucking them all the time. That's why I make sure to share. I can't stand to have that look leveled at me so often. If I weren't so very British, I'd ravage him every time. Sharing my candy makes the look go away, so that must be what he wants. It's good that I thought of it, before making a complete fool of myself.

I can't imagine what thoughts are putting that look on his face, but if he doesn't stop soon, I'm going over the desk. Thank god it's between us, and covering my indiscretion, right now. I need him to leave soon, so I can get some place more private and relieve myself. I slip another candy into my mouth as a distraction.

Ahhh! He did it again. Even Angel would be tempted by that glorious tongue coming out to lick away the cooling chocolate off of those delectable-looking lips. I wonder if they'd taste as good as they look. I wonder if they hold the taste of the chocolate, or if it would be all him. If he licks his lips one more time, I won't be responsible for my actions.

This is impossible. I can feel a trickle of sweat drip down the left side of my face and neck. It's warm, but not hot enough to explain why I'm sweating, panting and basically look like I've just run a race. At least that's how I feel. How can he not be noticing? That must be one distracting cup of cocoa.

He's shifting in the seat, while I curse those blasted loose pants of his. They've got to be deceiving me because his, er, package looks a bit more defined than I've noticed before. Oh, god. Tell me I did not just groan out loud.


God! If Wes don't stop looking at me with that shine in his eyes, I'm going to fly right over the desk and pin him to his chair. I've got to be annoying him by staying in his office, drinking the chocolate, for this long. I just can't make myself get up and leave. Ah. And there he goes with the toffee again.

The first while, I was just thinking. Then this sound filled the air. At first I thought I was breathing too heavy, but I'm usually better at hiding my reactions than that.

Once I realized it was Wes, I found myself even more focused on him than usual. The heavy breathing, combined with that sweet bead of sweat running down and disappearing in to the collar of his shirt, kept me riveted while causing my imagination to run wild.

Man. If I could just get that reaction out of him, I'd reward him better than he's ever been rewarded before. God. I'd love to lick the sweat from his neck and, undressing him as I go, continue down into his pants. Guess that would be a reward for both of us. At the thought of tasting more than just the candy in his mouth, I lick my lips and find a film of cooling chocolate instead. What a disappointment.

For months now I've been patting myself on the back, so glad that I wear loose pants. Ever since he started with the damn candies. Now, however, that hard seam is riding up the crack of my ass and doing nothing to dissuade the frontal situation. I've got to shift around a bit, without drawing his attention downwards, to get more comfortable.

Ahhh. That's a bit...what the fuck?! The sound that just came out of Wes sounded like pure, frustrated sex. I've got to be fucking imagining things but the look on his face, and that fact that his eyes are riveted to my now completely hard dick, tell me I'm not.

Okay. Deep breath time. Got to think. Aww, fuck it! I know engaging my mouth before my brain is stupid. I've got to say someth...

You've got great timing, Cordy.

"Hey, Gunn. Wes, I've got to talk to you about this," she says, waving what appears to be her paycheck. "I need to..."

I beat a quick retreat while he's occupied.


Well. The exchange of persons in my office certainly helps to deflate my, er, problem a bit. It's at least at a more manageable level. It looked for a moment like he was going to say something. Possibly something I'd like to hear, but I'm sure that's just wishful thinking on my part.

Well, fine. Cordelia problem taken care of, for the moment. I've got to get rid of this other one before we have a return engagement.

While there have been occasions we've all appreciated having left the stalls in the bathroom operational, it's a bit of a pain now. While I may not be about to come in my pants, I'm still quite erect and bending down to check for feet is no fun.

It seems I'm alone. Thank god for small favors. I lock the outer door, and choose a stall towards the end. The last one's lock has been closed from the inside, which usually means I'll need to be calling the plumber again.


I've got myself in hand when I hear the outer door to the bathroom open. I just know it's Wes coming in. As quiet as possible, I lift my feet on to the toilet seat and sit on the back.

I'm so glad there's a tank on this thing. It feels cold on my bare ass, but that's better than being found with my pants, literally, around my ankles.

I'm not sure what he's doing in here, but he can't know I'm in here too. He was bent over looking at something Cordy was showing him in the filing cabinet when I came in here. That glorious view of his pants stretched tightly over that sweet ass is what had me running in and locking myself in the last stall.

I hear him touch the door I'm hiding behind before moving to the one next to me. I hear his zipper being lowered, then he sighs. I know that sigh. Made the same one, not two minutes ago. Oh, god. He's jacking off!

I've been massaging myself, waiting for him to leave, but that revelation has me pinching the base of my cock. I'm usually noisy when I do this, and I'm not sure I can control it.


Glad I checked that the place was empty. My panting is echoing off the walls and the zipper sounded unusually loud to me. I sigh in relief once I've pushed my pants down below my hips.

This is something I just don't have the time for anymore. If I do, it's usually a quick and mechanical thing in the shower. I don't even fantasize. Not today, though. I've got his image, and my own imaginings of what was going on in there, to fuel this. It's not going to take long.

Ah, god. Just imagining him licking his lips, imagining it's me licking his lips, I'm nearly ready. A quick pull and a tug...

"Ahhh. Charles," he whispered.


"Fffffuck!" I can't believe I just came from hearing him whisper my name.


Oh, man. I said that out loud, didn't I?

"Yeah, Wes."

I hear the toilet paper in his stall being unrolled, and get some for myself. There's a bit of shuffling, the sound of a zipper being done up, then the toilet flush. I follow suit, but when his door unlocks, I lean against mine. Not sure if I'm ready to face this yet, now that my brain is engaging.

"Charles," he whispers again. This time it's right next to my head, on the other side of the door. I look up and see his fingers curling over the top. This is ridiculous. It's Wesley.

"Yeah, Wes. I'm coming out."

His fingers disappear and I hear him take a step back. With a deep breath, I open the door and face what, I hope, is my future.


I'm not all that great at reading him and these are definitely new circumstances, but Gunn looks a bit off kilter. Not especially embarrassed, per se. I hope this is the right thing to do, but I'm not restraining myself any more.

I take a bold step forward, gently take hold of his head, and pull him towards me. He comes without resistance and our lips meet. We touch a few times before really connecting. Our first kisses are closed mouth, but sweet. Wonderful. After joining, and parting, a few times, I snake out my tongue to taste him.

With a groan that expresses it all, he crushes me to him and invades my mouth. So this is what it's like to be caught up in a whirlwind. My mind seems to be processing slower than ever. I'm trying to catalog his taste, feel and sound but I can't keep up.

We're creating an odd dance, as if with our mouths moving the rest of our bodies can't stay still. When my back hits the door more roughly than I appreciate, we break.

"Sorry. So sorry, sweet," I hear murmured in to my neck, where he starts licking and sucking. "So sweet. You taste so good. Toffee."

I know what he means. My only responses are to wrap myself tighter around him, holding his head to my neck, and whisper, "Chocolate."