Heat

Wesley looked up at that, unsure exactly what Rupert meant. The children would be here soon so . . . what? So they should get in what time to themselves they could? So he should try to look as if he hadn't spent the night in Rupert's arms?

He shrugged, nodding and closing the book with a sigh, after carefully marking his place. "Perhaps," he said without looking up at the other man, busying himself straightening the Rupert's desk. "Perhaps, I should go to my flat and change. The children might notice that I wore this yesterday."

"Would that bother you?" Rupert leaned back on the desk, his expression curious and his tone giving no hint to his own thoughts on the matter.

Wesley raised an eyebrow, sighing. "Uh, well . . . I don't know. Uh, I'm not terribly happy to be caught in my shirtsleeves and trousers from yesterday, but, uh . . . that's not really what you're asking, is it?"

Rupert shook his head, but remained silent.

Wesley stood, swallowing and finding himself pacing a bit. Forcing himself to stop, he looked at Rupert and shrugged. "I don't know how to answer that."

The other man raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to speak, but Wesley rushed to continue. "No, wait, let me finish. It's, uh, a difficult question. You're asking if I mind the children guessing about our, uh, us and I don't know. It . . . it isn't as if they've ever liked me or, but . . . then again neither did you." Snorting, Wesley seated himself on the bench by the door, leaning his head into his hands.

He tried to reason out what the children might think and found it impossible. Did they even know that 'their Giles' might favor men as well as women? He highly doubted it. It wasn't something Rupert would just discuss without reason . . . although . . . could there have been 'reason' before Wes?

Squirming at that possibility, Wes thought again of all the jokes at his expense and wondered how that would change, if that would change, and . . . damn it; he didn't want to think about this. He wasn't even sure what was between Rupert and him and . . .

"It would bother me," he finally said, swallowing hard and fearing how Rupert would take his reluctance.

"Wesley?" Rupert came to stand in front of him and Wes raised his head, quite worried about what would come next. He met those breathtaking eyes, dread rising. "It was a hypothetical question. I didn't mean to upset you and it's not as if I'm particularly ready to--forgive the expression, however appropriate--jump out of the closet to them myself."

Snorting, Giles sat beside him and Wesley leaned against the other man. When he realized that, he made to pull away, but Giles' arm settled around him, the action so casual, almost absentminded, that Wes stayed where he was.

"Why did--" Wesley cleared his throat, trying to get rid of the confusion in his tone. "Why did you ask?"

"If, uh, if there is to be anything between us in-in the long run . . ."

Wesley's heart skipped a beat, chest constricting tight as he waited for Rupert to continue.

"I . . . think it's a fairly important question. I wouldn't want to hide, Wesley and if . . . if you're uncomfortable with being more open ab--"

"Wait," Wesley straightened, shaking his head. "That's not . . . I'm not saying that I could never . . ." Wesley wanted to say that it didn't mean he could never be open about . . . them, but . . . could he? Dear lord. Who would know? Just what did Rupert mean by 'not hiding'? "I . . . oh, god." He was breathing too fast again, the idea of his father finding out about Rupert driving him quite quickly toward panic.

"Shh," Giles whispered in his ear, though he couldn't have said how long the man had had his arm around him, how long that warm breath had been tickling his neck. Long enough so that it didn't come as a surprise. "Calm down, Wes. Breathe. We'll talk about this another time, just . . . breathe."

Right. Breathing. He'd been doing that all his life and suddenly it seemed so hard. Relaxing into Giles' hold, he tried to calm down, tried to gain some composure.

"No," he said softly, forcing himself to sit up and take deep gulps of air. "If, uh, if it's an important question than we should, er, dis-discuss it." He didn't want Rupert feeling as if he couldn't bring things like this up. More importantly, he didn't want the man to decide that nothing 'more' was possible between them.

Wesley found he rather liked the idea, in theory--because he wasn't sure what it might entail in practice--but . . . the thought of Rupert feeling 'more' for him was . . . exciting. It was a little frightening as well, though. He'd have liked to ask what was included in this 'more', how would it change things? What was he supposed to do?

While he doubted there was a simple, straightforward list, he'd have loved to have one.

"Only if you want to," Giles said, leaning back a little. Wes felt the lost of the other man's breath on his neck, but thought this might be better for his ability to think clearly. "I must admit that I . . . don't understand the strength of your reaction."

Wesley leaned back, turning to look at Rupert and wondering how he could even begin to explain. He didn't want to hurt the man's feelings, though, honestly, he wasn't sure if he were capable of that in anything more than a superficial sense.

"Uh, I . . . What do you mean by 'open'. Uh, there's just . . . I've never . . ." Shaking his head, Wes sighed and tried just to blurt it out. "I don't know what . . . what any of this is. I don't. . ." Wesley stood and paced in front of the door. "I've never done this before and, quite frankly, it scares the hell out of me. I don't know what to do, or say, and I . . . what happens if I do something wrong?"

Rupert raised an eyebrow, standing and opening his mouth to speak only to snap it shut when they heard the children's voices in the courtyard.

"Damn," Rupert growled, hand reaching for the lock on the door. Wesley intercepted it, slipping his fingers around the man's wrist.

"No. It's okay. We . . . we really can't discuss this with them just waiting outside. Uh, do-do you mind if I skip this? I'd like to go check in on Faith and . . ." Wesley motioned to his clothing, his mind already spinning the jokes the children would make if they knew.

Rupert opened his mouth again and shut it, nodding. "All right, but . . . we'll discuss it later?"

"Of course." Wesley gave the best smile he was capable of, suddenly wanting to get out, get away. God, he'd probably ruined things. It had been so easy between Rupert and himself and he'd probably destroyed that by basically saying he was too scared to continue and that wasn't true, but . . . in some ways it was.

It was all tangled in his head. How could he expect Rupert to understand when he couldn't even sort it all himself?