Sure Knox flirted with Fred, but she was the vessel and there were prophecies. She was the most wonderful person he'd ever met.
When Knox was 16-years-old, his parents sent him off to Camp Richards or Camp Reform Your Gay Son as his father thought. His father said it would be good for him. But when he arrived, he knew immediately that his mother - probably while changing his come-streaked sheets - had found the dirty magazines between the mattress. Really a stupid place to hide them.
Men and Illyria the God King were truthfully the only ones who ever got his dick up. His Camp Richards roommate wrote love letters home to his boyfriend and jacked off to the sound of crickets after the evening sermon covering various sins. But Knox believed in beakers and the Periodic Table, and by his sophomore year in college, he'd practically forgotten all about camp, especially while checking out the naked bicyclers at Pride with his boyfriend Patrick. His mother had even sent him a rainbow keychain.
But Knox remembered when Gunn walked passed him with an axe in hand. He always wondered if axes were phallic or vaginal. No matter how hot Gunn looked in a suit, Gunn was straight, and all Knox could do was finger the damn pride keychain.
Then Illyria was held up in customs. Post-9/11 security sucked, which made him grateful that most of the world didn't have a clear about the terror that truly lurked about.
Knox knocked on the doorframe of Gunn's office. He surmised that Gunn kept the door open in order to make those who worked for him more comfortable. Unlike the heavy closed one on Angel's office or Wesley's mostly likely booby trapped one. "Have you had a chance to look at my request?"
"It's in the pile." Gunn looked up from the paper he was signing. "Just playing a little catch-up and trying to see which of Smile Time's assets will hurt the most."
"He's less imposing as a puppet." Knox knew that small talk wasn't nerd specialty, but Gunn had dated Fred, which put him more into the straight category. Unless those office rumors about him and Wesley were true. Knox tapped lightly on the wood.
Gunn grunted. "He can still use a sword even if his werewolf girl almost took him out."
Knox nodded. He needed the forms, curtsey and flirting usually worked despite gender. "You know, I don't get out of the lab very often. Fred's kind of worried about me. I need lunch, and you know, eating alone starts rumors, and I bet you haven't had lunch."
"I thought it was who you went to lunch with that started those rumors."
"Oh." Knox ran his hand through his hair. "Only when Angel and Wesley eat together. But there were already rumors. I think Lilah started them."
At the mention of Lilah, Gunn got up from his desk. "Figures." He straightened his tie and grabbed his coat. "Café di Prima?"
"Italian's great. My aunt Leona makes the best risotto."
*****
After being seated, Knox tired to think about what else he could say to Gunn. Maybe he hadn't thought that through enough. He couldn't exactly talk to Gunn about how attractive he was. That would be lame. And even with the brain boost, Gunn couldn't talk tech. It was still a plus that he's dated Fred with her science talk.
"You originally from around here?" Gunn asked as their salads were delivered.
Knox shook his head. "No, East Coast. Connecticut. But L.A.'s cool." Sometimes Knox thought that Los Angeles was too cool for him, or at least, a pocket protector wasn't as fashionable as Tommy Hilfiger.
Turned out that Gunn didn't consider himself too cool to hang out with Knox. Knox wondered if it had something to do with him catching Gunn singing selections from H.M.S. Pinafore by the water cooler.
Knox knew that relationships with co-workers rarely worked out, but he couldn't help himself. He'd always had this kind of luck. Gunn was cute, but he still needed to get Illyria out of customs. "You know, I have this package stuck-"
"So now we know why you really asked the head company lawyer to lunch," Gunn teased as their salads came.
Knox blushed. He figured that this wasn't going to be smooth. He'd never been smooth. "One of my hobbies is ancient beings. You know, the ones that walked before humans. And I have a package waiting in customs. The problem is that the box can't be opened, except by those who know how, and well, you know how security is now."
Gunn nodded. "An overreaction considering everything that crawls around unnoticed."
"Or flies." Knox relaxed. Gunn didn't seem too mad at him. "You know, I didn't just invite you to get my package."
Gunn snorted. That sounded better in Knox's head. "I know."
Knox changed the subject to the food when their main course came. He snuck in a comment about how working at Wolfram & Hart made life a little lonelier. There weren't many places where you could meet people. Gunn agreed, but Knox didn't get much more out of him. He figured that it had to do with Fred. Everything lately had to do with Fred.
*****
Lunch hour always went faster than he wanted, and they were always needed back at the office. Knox was just thankful that Fred hadn't paged him during their lunch. She was hot on a new project to detect inter-dimensional wormholes before they happened.
Gunn's shoes were loud against the concrete of the parking garage. Too loud.
In Knox's experience, bad things always happened in parking garages or least Wolfram & Hart ones. He hurried alongside Gunn. "We should do this again," Knox suggested. He still wasn't quite sure if Gunn had picked up on his vibes, his subtle gay vibes.
But he shouldn't forget that getting his God King back from the horrible US government was still his number one goal. And Gunn had that power.
Gunn mumbled something and hit the elevator button. "The package number was on the paper you gave me, right?"
"Right." Knox sighed as they boarded the elevator. He might not be getting laid anytime soon, but Illyria was coming and that was all that mattered. His fingers played with the keychain in his pocket. Everyone else, including Gunn, could wait.