Snowbound

Chapter Twelve

The bedroom door closedind ind them and Giles turned the key, much to Wesley’s relief. He did not think they would be interrupted but he had a desire to be in a place where none could intrude. Alone – with Giles. If he thought too much about that, he feared he would convince himself that he was dreaming, and from there to waking was but a short step. Yet Giles was standing before him, eyes dark with need. This was reality then.

Giles came close and seemed to be waiting for a signal, not hesitant but expectant. Wesley swallowed, feeling unsure of himself and then unfastened the belt that held his robe closed. It fell apart, revealing his naked body, and Giles sighed out a long breath and reached up to slip the robe from Wesley’s shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. It lay around Wesley’s feet, like a patch of grass in a summer meadow, and Giles sank to his knees.

As Wesley looked down, feeling a surge of desire, Giles held Wesley’s hip with one hand to steady himself, and used the other to encircle the base of Wesley’s cock, touching it as though it was something he’d done a thousand times before. He glanced up and met Wesley’s gaze, his own filled with amused anticipation. The smile on Giles’ face – Wesley bit his lip, aroused by that knowing, hungry grin. Had he known Giles could look like this? Or had he always known?

Giles leaned in, with a slow deliberation that had Wesley’s hands in tight fists before the first flickering touch of Giles’ tongue made his hands open, desperately wanting to touch Giles. Giving in to his impulse, he ran his fingers through Giles’ hair then stood still and accepted the blissful torment Giles gave him, knowing that it would soon be over because no matter how skilled Giles was at prolonging this, Wesley was too close for his body to be denied for long. In truth, Wesley was not sure he could remain standing. His legs seemed weak and he could not –

Giles must have sensed Wy’s y’s exhaustion, because he paused and stood, smiling once more as Wesley voiced a protest. Wesley allowed himself to be pushed to the bed, with Giles’ hand a gentle pressure on his chest and then lay sprawled, staring up at Giles, one leg hanging off the bed, the other angled so that he was hiding nothing, achingly open. Giles began to unbutton his shirt, his gaze fixed on Wesley, who, partly to tease and partly through need, reached down to slowly stroke his cock.

It was almost his undoing. He groaned, the light brush of his fingers against skin damp from Giles’ tongue not quite enough stimulation, but enough to make him want more so keenly that despite himself, his fingers gripped hard.

Still dressed, Giles strode to the bed, knocking Wesley’s hand away, and knelt. Once more he took Wesley’s cock into his mouth but gone were the teasing licks, the maddeningly slow slide of lips against hardness. Giles’s mouth was avid and his grip on Wesley’s thigh bruisingly firm. Wesley cried out in astonishment at the sudden change, lost in sensation. Giles was not asking, nor was he demanding; instead he was taking, with a single-minded intensity that had Wesley’s hips bucking up and a stream of incoherent pleas spilling from his mouth. With no goal but making Wesley come as quickly as possible, Giles should have been an ally, but a spark of stubbornness deep inside Wesley, assisted by the need for this to not end, never, because Giles’ mouth felt too good, made him fight back.

Giles would have none of it. Every attempt Wesley made to control the situation in the smallest degree was swept aside, not impatiently, but as a man clears a path for himself through undergrowth. Giles seemed able to move them both so that they lay on the bed, capture Wesley’s hands in one of his own to stop their attempts to touch him, fling one long, strong leg across Wesley’s to stop them thrashing about and employ a hand wherever he thought it would do most good, all without ever letting Wesley’s cock slip from his mouth as his tongue and teeth relentlessly brought Wesley to the point of screaming for release. Then Giles raised his head, waited until Wesley had roused enough to focus on him and let his finger run across the glistening head of Wesley’s cock before sucking on it for a moment. His head dipped down as his slicked finger pushed inside Wesley’s body and Wesley came in that moment, came and felt Giles swallow around him, felt himself held through all the endless time that his body took to calm itself.

Giles was still dressed and Wesley curled up against him, acutely conscious of the touch of linen and wool. He wanted to feel Giles, not just the heat of his body, damp with exertion, through layers of clothing, but he could barely move or speak.

When he did, it was a murmur, so low that had Giles’ head not been so close to his own, it might have been inaudible. “Why so sudden, so swift? What made you -” He wanted to ask why Giles had gone from supplicant to aggressor, but somehow could not frame the question.

Giles tightened the arm he had wrapped around Wesley’s shoulders and said reasonably, “Five years of waiting? That seems a long time to me, but have it your way.”

A snort of laughter from Wesley made Giles grin too. “I confess, looked at from that perspective, we are miracles of restraint, but Giles; what of you?” Wesley let his hand wander down to where Giles’ erection was plain to see, outlined boldly in his breeches. “You must be made of iron, to still be like this.”

Giles winced. “I feel it,” he said wryly. “If it would not offend you, I k I k I will leave the bed for long enough to disrobe.”

“It would offend me mortally,” Wesley said. “Lie still, Giles. Let me undress you.”

Intrigued and not ill pleased, Giles lay back as Wesley began to undress him, his fingers lingering as each unfastened button revealed more of Giles’ chest. Smoothing back the fabric, Wesley eased the shirt off Giles and sat back on his heels.

“I have seen you like this before,” he commented, daring to place his hand on a body he had only touched with his eyes, “but never had the courage to do more than look.”

“When? Ah! I recall. You were waiting for me in my rooms and I came in drenched from a cloudburst and stripped out of my wet shirt.”

“I think if you had given me but one hint that you wished it, we would have done more than study that afternoon,” Wesley said. “I left your rooms aching and hard, certain you knew, equally certain I had disgraced myself in your eyes.”

Giles shifted on the bed, the small movement enough to make Wesley flash him an apologetic look and return to his duties, unbuttoning the breeches that clung to Giles’ powerful thighs and long legs.

“When you left, Wesley, it might interest you to know that the door was locked and my breeches doffed before you had probably reached old Stimmons’ door. I – the look on your face when you - and dear Lord, of course I knew the state you were in, as it matched my own.”

Wesley tugged at the breeches andes oes obligingly tilted his hips so that they could be removed with his under linen. Now Wesley was silenced, his face flushed, his cock stirring to life once more. Giles noticed and felt a pang of envy for the resilience of youth and then recalled how quickly Wesley had been brought to his peak. There were compensations to age and though Giles knew that tonight his body would share Wesley’s youthful eagerness, he knew too that the desire that burned high within him would not be soon quenched.

“Still,” Wesley said, returning to his earlier query, “it seemed to me that something spurred you on just then?”

Giles hesitated and then seemed to make up his mind to be frank. “For a moment, you reminded me of someone. The way you lay before me, your hand...he used to do that when I was undressing, trying to make me hurry. It was – I suppose it was a game we palyed.”

“A lover? Forgie; Ie; I did not mean to pry.” Wesley fought back chagrin.

“Forgive me, rather,” Giles said softly. “He – it was many years ago. Shortly after Jennifer’s death. He captured my heart and reason for a time and then – we parted. If I say you reminded me of him, believe me, it was not meant to insult you. It was but a fleeting resemblance. You lack the cruelty that marred him and he never had your strength of character.”

Clearly wishing to change the subject, Giles leaned up on his elbow and took Wesley’s hand, bringing it to his erection. “This is caused by you, Wesley. You alone.”

Wesley let his hand explore from crisp curls to slick head. “You cannot know how I have imagined this moment and if I fear, it is that I’m dreaming.”

“No dream,” Giles said, his breath quickening as his cock grew harder still under Wesley’s caress. “Call it an interlude, perhaps. Wesley –” Giles sounded as if he was in pain. “I need you. Please –”

Wesley glanced down and saw that Giles was too close to wait any longer and, with mild regret, abandoned his plan to have Giles come deep inside him. He had tucked a small bottle of the oil he used with Angel and Spike into the pocket of his robe before going to look for Giles, hardly able to believe that he would need it, but going to fetch it and preparing them both would take more time than Giles had.

As he shifted closer to Giles, slipping an arm under his shoulders and lying against him, Wesley remembered the moment in the library when, anger thrilling through him, he had forgotten that Giles was the teacher and he the student. In truth, they were equals now, but some of their former relationship had lingered so that he had thought of Giles as one in authority over him. No longer. Here, naked and hungry for each other, they were but two men and yet...Giles had responded so readily when he had been commanded...and the nameless man, how had Giles been in that relationship? Leader or follower?

Wesley knew that within his own relationship Angel would ever lead. Spike wished it, Angel wanted it, and he, Wesley, had not felt sure enough to challenge that, or even certain that he wanted to. With Giles, however, he sensed he could assume Angel’s role and the thought did more than intrigue him. In his mood of simmering resentment coupled with frustration, the idea of being in control, just for once, was appealing.

But Giles had to agree. Wesley tightened his hold and instead of letting his other hand drop down to where Giles’s cock was rigid and aching with need, he used it to turn Giles’ face towards him.

“I said you were mine tonight, Giles. Is that what you want? To belong to me wholly for these few hours?”

Giles frowned, even as he pressed against Wesley, craving a closer contact, thenthen took Wesley’s meaning and smiled. “You seek to play games, Wesley? You would have me...obedient?”

“Perhaps,” Wesley said, letting his fingers trail down Giles’ stomach, feeling him shiver. He hesitated and then ran one fingernail from root to tip of Giles’ cock, iron-hard and hot, knowing that such a fleeting, teasing touch would be sweet torture. “I will have an answer, Giles.”

He loaded his voice with calm certainty and watched Giles assume a role he must not have played for years. Without saying a word, Giles moved away, lying on his back, arms by his side and legs spread slightly.

Wesley caught his breath. He was hard again just from looking at Giles, wng, ng, controlled and yet still in control...his to enjoy. That last thought made him realise that perhaps he too harboured some resentment against his friend. Should he be so aroused by this? Then Giles stirred, a moan escaping his parted lips and Wesley thrust aside all questions.

He wanted to kiss Giles and so he did, once more holding Giles against him. Letting his hand drop to Giles’ cock, he raised his mouth long enough to murmur, “You will not come until I say; do you understand, Giles? Show me your obedience since you offer it so readily.”

Giles moaned again, pushing up eagerly into the fist that held him loosely. “Please, Wesley...”

It was not cruelty but curiosity that made Wesley kiss Giles at the precise moment his hand tightened and jerked up and down. He wanted to feel Giles leap and quiver as a shining fish, silver-scaled, leaps on a hook. Perhaps it was a little cruel...Instead Giles thrust his tongue deep into Wesley’s mouth and let his own hand seek Wesley’s newly erect cock, hoping perhaps to spur him on.

It might not have been a test of Wesley’s resolve; it might have been the act of a man whose need for release was overwhelming, but Wesley chose to take it as a challenge. He broke the kiss and said, “No, Giles. That is not correct behaviour. It does not please me. Lie back, as you were.”

Giles bit his lip and glanced at Wesley, his green eyes entreating but Wesley kept his face stern, though it cost him. He was beginning to see, moments into this, that it would not be easy. All he wanted was to touch Giles, to caress and kiss that beloved body and discover its secrets...but he had set his feet on this path and he had never yet turned back from a goal he had set himself. Giles rolled away, his jaw set, staring up blindly, fists clenched.

“You seem uncomfortable, Giles. I do not wish that. I wish only that you let me lead.”

Giles turned his head a fraction. “I will – Wesley, I ache for you!”

We kne knelt on Giles’ right hand side. “Give me your hand,” he said, remembering that Giles was wont to use his left hand. Giles extended it and Wesley brought it to his own cock, allowing Giles to shift onto his side slightly. He reached out and once more took hold of Giles’ erection. “Now follow me,” Wesley whispered. “And do no more than that. You will wait and then you will copy. If you fail me, I will punish you.”

Saying that was easier than he had expected. He flashed back to Spike across Angel’s lap, arse red, face twisted in pain and pleasure and he shuddered, wanting to bring that look to Giles’ face, wanting to hear the broken, pleading chant spill from Giles’ lips.

Giles nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Wesley’s face and Wesley let his fingers curl firmly around the thick, hard shaft and gave it two short, fast strokes.

He too was looking, not at his hand, but at Giles’ face. His eyes had closed and Wesley said sharply, “Eyes open, Giles.”

Giles’ eyelids fluttered up, as though he had been woken from sleep, and his hand moved in a perfect imitation of what had been done to him. Wesley felt his body respond and realised that Giles was not the only one who would need every ounce of control he possessed. Breathing shallowly, trying to think what he could cope with, Wesley kept his hand still but let his thumb flick up and over the head of Giles’ cock, exposed, dark-red and pearled with clear fluid. Giles gasped, his eyes desperate, but he managed to keep them open and to return the caress, the ball of his thumb lingering only as long as Wesley’s had.

It felt as if he had been brushed by fire. Wesley swayed as he knelt and, in swift retaliation for his weakness, though in truth Giles was obeying him to perfection and he had no one to blame but himself, he bent forward and lapped furiously at what he had just touched, using the flat of his tongue and taking three swift, savage tastes. Giles made an anguished sound, his hips leaving the bed, crying out and Wesley sat back and waited. Giles swallowed and moved, rolling onto his hands and knees and crawling until he was in front of Wesley. He was taking care not to let his cock brush against the covers and Wesley smiled, guessing that this particular game would be soon over and he vic victor.

Giles leaned forward and let his tongue run across his lips before dipping his head. Wesley noted that small rebellion and tried to discount the effect it had on him – then what harnedrned at a touch was set alight once more and Wesley drove his teeth deep into his lip as Giles licked slowly, lovingly, lingeringly...

When Giles had finished he waited for a command, still on his hands and knees. “Do not move,” Wesley said. “You failed on that turn, Giles. You must pay a forfeit. Kneel now as I do.”

Giles obeyed and Wesley smiled at him. “This you will not copy,” he said. He placed his hands on Giles’ thighs and pushed them apart, before cupping his balls, tight and high. He let the heel of his hand press against them, not hard enough to hurt, but in such a way that it was also pressing against the root of Giles’ cock and he rotated his hand slowly, grinding it against hungry flesh. Giles threw back his head, panting in harsh gasps. Wesley watched him and then let his hand fall away. “Now it is my turn again,” he remarked.

Giles whispered his name and Wesley heard his voice break, just as his own had done many times when he lay in Angel’s arms. He had always been shown mercy and he could do no less for Giles. He placed his hand over Giles’ heart and pushed him back on the bed, lying beside him and holding him so close that their quick breath mingled. “Now, Giles! Come for me now!”

Under the insistent pressure of Wesley’s hand, moving swiftly, gripping hard, Giles could do nothing but obey. Wesley watched, enraptured, his own desire in abeyance, as Giles’ face contorted, ecstasy robbing it of all self consciousness, all sense of self. Giles kept his eyes fixed on Wesley, save for one moment when they squeezed shut as his body gave thanks for a relief long denied it. When he lay still, Wesley kept his hand in place and stared down at Giles, filled with an unreasoning joy. “Mine, Giles. You are mine. Say it!”

Giles smiled a little sadly. “I am, Wesley, and ever shall be – but you are not mine.”

“If I tell you to forget that for tonight, will you?”

Giles sighed, reaching out to brush his fingers across Wesley’s face. “I am yours to command, love, but you cannot –”

“I can.” Wesley moderated his tone, moving off the bed in search of a cloth to clean them both and the bottle of oil from his robe. “Giles, tonight I feel as if I could do anything.”

‘Then do it to mGileGiles suggested mildly.