Just curious

Fisk was just running over through his head what was needed to be done planning even to the minutest details. the most personal meetings had to be carefully dealt upon and other arrangements to be made. Reluctantly he gives up his glass of well aged wine in exchange for his pen and notebook. To be sure everything is in place but still a lingering doubt festers inside him that he calls Wesley to look everything over just to be cautious. When everything is going their way it isn't hard to stay on edge to refuse this as his downfall. 

Wesley is a mixture of excited and nervous to be apart of even such trifle matters as he has long developed a keen eye for such things, especially if it could help his employer, his friend. He believes nothing that has failed will fail again he just hasn't perfected it yet.  Perhaps if he could do more than just his work then the entirety of Hell's Kitchen could have already been corrected. 

Wesley considers this, and then he knows it is to be wrong. He could never leave his side. He also knows this as his truth, his destiny. No one is to dispute that as the people closest in their line of work has rarely, if ever seen him not by Fisk's side. 

There is a saying he is quite fond of, not a romantic at heart but even the most cold hearted men can ignore the feelings of love it emits.

"If there ceases to ever be war then perhaps love can prevail." 

A quote not of much love but hope. 

Wesley's notion is that soon all of his sacrifices will not be repaid but undoubtedly adored and this hope will not be in vain. Perhaps he is far from a romantic indeed, he is a dreamer considering this war will be never ending and his love never shared. 

It is the very same notion that gives him life in the few times he allows himself to think such way. It is the very reasoning for his continued stay with his dear friend though it causes him heartbreak but Wesley will never leave even when all hope has been killed. 

An infinitesimal lapse in time has allowed it to happen even just once. A night that has continued to be an isolated event. It wasn't some magical instant in which the warm glow of the city entered the window and shined over Fisk illuminating his features as if he were some angel and the air was too chilling to feel his warmth and most of all disappointing it was not some drawn out kiss that had passed between them but some mistake. A short press of lips and immediate withdraw. 

Still just to Wesley it remained a beautiful instant. Until of course the fear was etched forever onto Fisk's face and he fled the scene. 

That night was forever banned from conversation between them. Never spoken of but understood it was not meant to be. It was meant to be forgotten and it was, Almost.

Yet there was nothing stopping Wesley from cherishing that small moment that ends just before its tainted by the fear in his eyes. A lapse in judgment that may have been a blessing from fate would forever be held dear to him and it wouldn't ever happen again. 

A small comfort knowing it had once. Once was enough. Once was a lifetime more than the nothing he resigned himself to. Just knowing the beautiful lips he traced upon in memory had been felt by his and he is ever aware of the touch of vanilla that lingered on his lips. Wesley was given a small truth in his fantasizing. 

Life went on, the unimportant moment to all, except wesley was left behind in history. 

Until Fisk woke sudden and strained. It, the night of over a week ago plagued his every thought until it took over his unconscious too. 

Till it became his obsession. (as Wesley usually was to him) He wouldn't have been changed by it if not for a new found light in which displayed over his friend, making every detail on his face undoubtedly soft, irresistible. Beautiful.

Just the smallest hint of lilac from an unknown trace lingers not around him but in his memory but there wasn't any lilac when he woke so he must've gotten confused. A curiosity was born that day. 

The memory of that night had been consuming him ever since. He can no longer trust in his skill to multi-task his work. Fisk couldn't put it off either so a little too eagerly he called Wesley too handle it with him.

Fisk, ever since that night tried to avoid them being alone together in his living room but tonight it seemed important like it was inevitable that it happened. 

Nothing of much importance happened and though he should consider the work his first priority he doesn't tonight. Tonight seems more of a failure of sorts just by the distance that seems between them both mentally and surprisingly physically.

Fisk was aware, painfully so, how close Wesley stayed whether out of a service to him or for the unmistakable unknown craving for intimacy he has around him that only Fisk knows of and never mentions. It is just a fault, We all have them. Fisk is not so cruel to blame him for this. 

Wesley has a capability to pull him from his worst troubles and transpires a sort of calm in him which is reason enough to why Fisk considered him a friend. Where he lacks, Wesley provides. Its the same in their friendship and their work relationship. It works well except that Fisk has nowhere to hide from his skillful gaze and no matter the expressions he hides far from the world Wesley seems to just know everything of what he's feeling. (Except Wesley is blind when it comes to his feelings being shared.)

Fisk doesn't like failure. He doesn't take to it well. There has rarely been any distance at all between them and considering it more important than work, He has to fix it.

Where Wesley sees him all so perfectly, Easily. Fisk sees him too, before and behind the lenses that carefully separate the mask he puts on.

For him that night a week before had to be nothing couldn't be more as he wanted. When wanting could be the downfall of everything. Despite knowing this, there's still just a touch of lilac on his lips and a warmth carved into his arm where Wesley fell into.

The feeling still lingers across his arm as if it was not his arm he touched but his very souland upon that his heart, that brought up old feelings buried away  that can no longer be ignored. 

Wesley stands from his side of the couch where they've been working into the late hours of night. A place that was far from his side and made to leave.

but Fisk persisted they should share a drink before he leaves and Wesley is anything if not submitting.  Fisk makes sure to carefully bring up the matter. A gentle touch to Wesley's elbow to start and leaning in Fisk hopes to convey a sort of openness between them. 

"I wanted to thank you, for your help." 

Wesley seems taken aback by the gesture. Fisk peers into Wesley's slightly widened eyes. Fisk hopes that look isn't inspired by fear. Wesley seems to recover finding his breath once more but there's still a noticable tremble beneath Fisk's hand. 

"Its nothing, just my job too sir." 

Wesley holds a closed off smile. He does not relent control over his touch and seems reluctant to let his hopes up.  Fisk feels its more than just loosing hope and treats it as if he had lost his friend. 

"I hope that isn't why... You-" Fisk is cut off by Wesley's quick reassurance that he remains not by the loyalty to his job but because he is here for him. 

"Im here because I want to be." A more genuine smile it seems still has yet to reach his eyes. 

Wesley, Fisk knows will stay long after he is needed. Fisk hopes he knows he will always be needed. Fisk is also aware as much as Wesley loves to be needed he loves to be wanted. Fisk can tell they are the same. Which is the courage Fisk finds to tell him this and overestimates his ability to do so. 

"I... I wanted.. to.." Fisk is not for the first time at a loss for words as he is a man of action. So he gazes into the others eyes and hopes it comes off as sincere. Guilt and love shows in his face.  

And like always, without fail Wesley seems to already know. He understands him well. Fisk sees the message was well received as Wesley now grabs the arm holding his and reflects Fisk's open expression without hesitation. Finally there is some sort of joy that reaches into Wesley's eyes. 

Wesley simply nods and smiles. Once more everything is alright between them. Yet still far from perfect it feels like something still missing, something akin to a hole open his heart and it seems Wesley is the only one able to fill it. If only Fisk could ask such a thing. He continues onto the matter he needs to deal with. 

"I've been just curious to.. what it was like for you."

Fisk finds himself saying, without much thought to his words. A burst in confidence. He craves an answer to this madness. If only to know if it affected Wesley as much as it had affected Wilson. 

Wesley understands the moment he talked of and does not use a pretense. He can't lie to him, not ever even if it means revealing something that won't be well accepted. 

"It was, unlike anything else but to brief to tell." 

Fisk tells Wesley his own thoughts whether he wants to know or not.

"For me it was new. It had been..." He can no longer look him in the eye but he does not look away. 

"You've never?" 

"No, no. it was my first." 

He is embarrassed to admit so. Wesley on the other hand seems thrilled. 

He tries not to think of the similarity of their position. The growing closeness of his breath and the wonderful aroma of flowers he smells now and of that night, and like all thoughts containing Wesley it fails to be forgotten or unmarked. 

It seems obvious (whether Wesley makes it or not) that he is happy knowing this truth. 

A bright light goes off somewhere in his mind and he can tell the hint of lilac that's been obsessed with following him came from Wesley, a trace of it now strong at its source from his hair. 

"Would you want to..? again I mean." His voice wavers unsure. Something Fisk never is but Wilson is, very. 

"I would need more reference to decide," Wesley looks down to his lips and his hands gather in Fisk's open suit. "Wilson." He seems to add it as an afterthought, a question and an answer all in the same desperate deep voice. Or maybe just reveling  that he can say it at all. It draws him further in completely obsessed with the lilac smell. 

The moment doesn't end there as it might have before. Wesley minutely leans in further like Fisk does and its all lost from there as to who kissed who first. Wesley, delighted to know his lips are warm smiles into the kiss.  The night much resembles the last but this time it is the magical moment he dreams of and more.

This is real and warm and wonderful. Sweet and soft is Wilson's hold on Wesley. A soft glow etched in the small space between them almost as if it rains down from heaven just to bless them in this moment. Wesley absolutely lights up with it and the joy is very much mutual. 

Afterwards Wilson leans their foreheads together and takes his hand. Its all so new and exciting yet it feels as if its been there for quite awhile. Its perfect. 

"Yes. Yes i would, again." It takes an instance to remember what he asked and then he does and agrees. 

He listens to the request and still smiling, leans in once more.