When talk turns to fantasies, Wesley tunes out.

It's not that he's never indulged in them. He's a man. He's had his fair share of them over the years.

But lately, they haven't been the sort he's wanted to share.

In fact, they haven't been the sort he's been willing to entertain in the light of day at all.

The subject’s no-one new. He can honestly say he's been fantasizing about this man his entire life since he'd first become aware of himself as an adult, not a boy.

Obsessively.

He'd almost thought him within reach once, twice, perhaps. But in the end, he’d always slipped from Wesley’s grasp and left Wesley cursing himself for a fool for believing that this time, this time it could be different.

But love makes fools of all men. Wesley is fully aware of this fact.

And so his fantasies continue apace, though they shift with his perceptions, change with the weight of his years until only the central figure remains unchanged.

Because where once Wesley's fantasies ended in his father taking him in with open arms, they now ended with a gunshot and rivers of red without a spark or wire in sight.