Heat

Unsure what the older man meant by that, Wesley scooted a little closer, hoping Giles wouldn't think him childish for seeking out the warmth and comfort. He laid his head on Giles' arm and let his thoughts wander.

They, of course, returned to Faith. His mistake lay in his belief that his help would be wanted, or rather, that any help at all would be wanted. Not that he shouldn't have approached her, but perhaps he should have done it differently somehow.

"Why did you sneak away?" Giles' asked, once again pulling Wesley from his thoughts.

"What?" Turning, he found the other man's face quiet close to his own and had to force his eyes to stay on Giles' rather than let them slip down to the man's lips.

"From the library. Why did you sneak away to speak to Faith? Without even a word."

He had to be imagining the hurt in the other man's voice. Still, the thought that his actions had somehow hurt Giles made him feel even worse. Without even realizing it, his hand stole out to stroke Giles' chest, as if he could soothe his mistake away.

"I . . . I didn't want you to talk me out of it," he eventually admitted. "I wanted to do something--" right "--to help."

"I wish you'd have talked to me," Giles' voice made his chest rumble and Wesley finally realized where he'd put his hand. He fixed his eyes on it, heart picking up speed. When he made to move it, Giles settled his own hand over it, pressing lightly. "I understand why you went. I might even have done the same in your place, but--"

Wesley snorted, watching as if outside his body as he intertwined his fingers with Giles'.

"No, you wouldn't have," he said with a sigh. "You understood that that approach wouldn't work. It never even occurred to me."

"You're new to this. All of it. Being a Watcher is not something one learns from books and rules. You're only now learning how," Giles said and Wesley could feel him shrug, as if it was nothing, as if it didn't matter.

Wes wasn't sure how to feel about that. He'd made a mistake, several apparently, and yet Giles was treating it as if nothing had gone wrong. Why wasn't the man angry? Why wasn't he telling Wesley what he'd done wrong? Giles should be angry, should be telling Wesley how to make things right.

The whole thing confused him.

"Yes, new and apparently rather bad at it," he sighed, closing his eyes and slowly, almost guiltily, letting his head slide onto Giles' shoulder. He stayed tense and still, ready to move should the man laugh or comment. Instead, Giles' arm slid so that it laying along his shoulders and arm.

"No, just new. You'll get better, if you stop trying to be perfect."

Wesley snorted at that statement, pulling away to look Giles in the eyes.

"You do realize that you just told me to stop trying so that I would get better, yes?"

Giles chuckled, but there was no derision in the sound.

"No," he said, hand moving up and down Wes' arm in a way that both soothed and excited the younger man. "I told you to stop trying to be perfect. Wes, you're human. Striving for perfection is setting yourself up for failure and makes every mistake seem larger than it is. Also," he said with what Wesley could only call a warm smile, "it turns you into an utter git."

Furrowing his brow over an insult delivered in such a kind voice, Wesley tilted his head, trying to understand.

"You say that, but . . . you don't seem . . ." Angry wasn't what he meant at all, but he couldn't come up with another word that suited better.

"Put off?" Giles suggested with a small smile, continuing when Wes nodded. "Perhaps, that's because I . . . have a better understanding of why you sometimes act that way. And, I've come to see that you don't act that way all of the time. Sometimes," Giles said leaning in closer in a way that made Wesley's breathing speed up, "you're even very pleasant."

The kiss didn't take him by surprise, but that hardly mattered when the older man's lips pressed against his own, rubbing softly. Wesley moaned at the feel, needing no coaxing to part them, to let Giles' tongue sweep away whatever words he might have spoken. His hands automatically sought out Giles' body, one reaching to tangle in his hair while the other slid from chest to hip.

Giles' hands were on Wesley as well, one squeezing gently at the back of his neck and the other sliding over his thigh, working toward--Wesley's thought spun away as Giles' hand cupped his burgeoning erection, thumb sliding over the zip of his trousers. His groan muffled by the other man's mouth, Wesley felt himself relaxing completely.

"Mmmm," Giles pulled away, humming against his lips. "You feel so good in my hand, Wes. Hardening under my fingers."

Swallowing hard, trying to keep his composure as Giles stroked more firmly, Wesley let his head fall against the sofa back. His hips arched to push his now straining cock into Giles' hand and he couldn't help the moan that broke from his lips.

"Does that feel good?" There was a thread of amusement in Giles' voice, but Wesley didn't mind, didn't care about much of anything as long as the other man kept doing what he was doing.

"God, yes," Wes found himself answering, his hands scrabbling at the couch, searching for something to anchor him.

"So beautiful like that, arching, body taut."

The words seemed to run straight to his cock, making it twitch in Giles' hand. Wesley whimpered when the touch changed, when the pressure left. His body sagged into the cushions and he looked at Giles with pleading eyes.

"Just unzipping you," Giles soothed, his hands indeed working the button and zip of Wes' trousers. "Want to touch your skin, so warm and smooth, feel you pulse hot and heavy in my grip."

Sighing, Wes slid a hand over Giles' thigh, reaching for the man's obviously hard cock. Giles rose up on his knees to make it easier, his hand nudging inside of Wesley's boxers to grip his erection even as Wes' fingers closed over his.

Wesley relished Giles' drawn out groan, knowing he'd caused it, that it was for him. Spreading his legs wider to give the older man better access, Wesley tried to work Giles' zip one handed. Giles' thumb swiped over the head of his cock, spreading pre-cum to ease the strokes and Wesley whimpered, his fingers fumbling, but finally getting the zip down. He thrust his hand inside just as Giles' lips claimed his own, tongue pushing inside.

Giles moaned into his mouth and Wesley felt his balls begin to rise, the thought of his hand pulling such sounds from Giles almost sending him over the edge. He pulled away from the kiss reluctantly, trying to draw in enough breath to speak.

"I . . . I'm so . . . close, Giles I--"

"My name is Rupert," the man whispered against his ear, pulling his hand free of Wesley's boxers.

"Rupert," Wesley smiled, idiotically, he was sure, but . . . he felt as if Giles had just told him a secret. No one else, so far as Wesley knew, got to call Giles that. Just him. He was fairly sure Gi-Rupert had told him that before, but this . . . this was different somehow.

Pulling his hand away from Rupert's erection, Wes felt suddenly shy, unsure what to do next. Gi-Rupert was kissing along his neck and it felt good, really good, but Wes was still so close to the edge. He wanted . . . he wanted to come, but wasn't sure how to ask for that, was worried that the older man might think him . . . ungrateful.

Rupert was talking to him again and Wesley had to pull his mind together to understand the words.

"I want to taste you, Wes. Can I do that? Suck your cock into my mouth and watch you writhe until you can't take it any longer?"

Wesley nodded frantically, whimpering as Rupert worked the buttons on his shirt, licking at each bit of exposed skin. The man bit and sucked on one nipple and Wesley gasped, hands digging into the couch once again. Then Giles was sliding lower, his lips playing over stomach muscles and hair until his tongue slid under the elastic of Wes' boxers. Unable to keep himself from bucking, Wes tried to apologize, only to have the words cut off when Rupert mouthed his cock through the fabric.

Then the older man was tugging off Wesley's trousers and Wes barely had the presence of mind to lift his hips to make things easier. He sat forward, pulling his shirt off while his lover bent to remove his shoes. Naked from the waist up, and with the older man taking care of the rest, Wesley ran his hands over Rupert's back, enjoying the feel of him through the slightly rough fabric of his shirt.

Standing, Rupert began undressing himself, his eyes skimming over Wesley's body in a way that made Wes feel less vulnerable and far more . . . erotic. Especially when Rupert's eyes met his own and Wesley could see the heat there.

Swallowing his nervousness, telling himself to be bold, Wesley fisted his own cock, stroking slowly as he watched Rupert undress. A process that seemed to go faster with the other man's eyes riveted to Wes' hand. He could actually see the older man's breathing pick up and that sent another jolt through him. Wesley had to stop, as good as it felt, knowing he'd come otherwise. He didn't want to do that yet, not until . . .

The thought of Rupert's mouth on him made his cock twitch again and Wes whined a little. There was no way he was going to last and then he'd disappoint Rupert and . . . that did it. The anxiety pushed him farther from orgasm, though not far enough for his peace of mind. An idea struck him then and Wesley bit his lip, wondering if he could actually . . .

Looking up at Rupert, who had just taken his shirt off, Wesley swallowed hard.

"I want to . . . t-taste you f-first."

Rupert raised an eyebrow at that, sitting beside Wesley and running a hand over his thigh. Wes sighed, still nervous, waiting to see what Rupert's reaction would be.

"All right," the older man agreed against his cheek, kissing softly along his jaw line. "Always tell me what you want, Wesley."

Nodding, Wesley licked his lips as Rupert lay back, drawing Wes with him. Heart thudding in his ears, Wes started by kissing the older man's chest, letting the hair tickle his face as he nuzzled close and breathed in Rupert's scent. Curious, he moved a little to the right, letting his tongue dart out against Rupert's nipple.

The man groaned loudly, arching up. Smiling, only a little shyly, Wesley did it again, enjoying the way the little nub grew tight under his tongue. He moved to the other, using the same slight, delicate touches until it was hard and then rubbing his lips against it.

Rupert was clutching the sofa cushions and Wesley felt like laughing with the joy of it. Swallowing what he was sure were inappropriate giggles, he licked lower, watching as Rupert's stomach muscles jumped at the contact. Thrilled that he, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, was having such an effect, he boldly slid lower. His own cock forgotten, he contemplated Rupert's, unsure how to begin.

Taking a deep breath, his eyes flicking up to Rupert's, he found the other man watching him, chest heaving. Wesley flicked out his tongue, touching it to Rupert's foreskin and watching as the older man's eyes fluttered shut. He licked, more firmly, from the head to the base, burying his nose in Rupert's hair, inhaling deeply. The scent was the same, but more pronounced, more . . . Wesley didn't even have words.

He licked lower, watching Rupert's cock twitch when his tongue touched the other man's sensitive balls. Returning to the head, he watched as a pool of pre-cum formed, trickling down the side. On impulse, he darted in, licking at it, following it back to the head.

"Good, bloody, lord," Rupert groaned, watching him once again.

Swallowing hard, Wesley licked his lips, unconsciously chasing the last drops of his lover's flavor. Taking Rupert's dick in his hand, he parted his lips and pressed the hard shaft into his mouth, pushing the foreskin back as he did. Lapping at the underside of the head, he sucked hard and almost gagged when Rupert bucked his hips.

"S-sorry," Rupert said immediately, hand brushing over Wesley's face.

Wesley got himself under control, then smiled a little, raising one eyebrow.

"Couldn't help yourself?"

Rupert grinned, shaking his head slowly, eyes slipping down to Wes' mouth. Warmed by the admission, Wesley leaned forward, again taking Rupert into his mouth. He could feel the tension in the older man. His legs trembled under Wesley's hand, his cock twitching against Wes' palate. Knowing he could do that to Rupert, have such an effect on the staid man, made Wesley's own cock twitch. He ignored it, sucking once again, slowly pushing to take in as much of Rupert's cock as he could before withdrawing to lap at the head once more.

Groaning, between pants, Rupert's hands were clutching the sofa, his body tense as a loaded crossbow. Daring a bit further, Wesley slid a hand to Rupert's balls, rubbing gently against them, feeling them tighten under his hand.

"I'm, Wes, I'm almost there," Rupert panted out the warning, his fingers sliding into Wesley's hair.

His nod drew another groan from Rupert and Wesley began stroking with his hand, sucking at the head of Rupert's cock while he bobbed his head.

"Yes . . . oh, god . . . Wes, I--" the words turned in a shout as Rupert's body seemed to contract under him and the man's cock twitched and pulsed, filling his mouth. Wesley refused to swallow at first, letting his lover's taste pour over his tongue. After milking Rupert's orgasm, he sat up, breathing hard as he swallowed.

The older man didn't move for a long moment. He was smiling though, watching Wesley through half-slitted eyes. He wouldn't have been surprised had Rupert spontaneously begun to purr.

Then Rupert pulled himself up, hand reaching out to cup the back of Wesley's neck and pull their mouths together. Wesley moaned as his lover licked along his lips before diving in, pushing his tongue against every surface inside Wesley's mouth.

Wesley moaned when Rupert's fingers slipped around his erection, bucking into the touch. He ached with his need for release and let Rupert push him back. His head lulled backward as Rupert licked at his neck and he moaned as that talented mouth worked its down his chest. Wes was grateful when Rupert didn't linger over either nipple, unsure he could take the lovely torment just then.

His cock jumped when Rupert pressed his lips to it. The man fisted him, spreading pre-cum with his thumb before lapping at the head. Wesley shuddered as Rupert stroked him, tongue flickering under his foreskin before his lover pushed it back.

Panting, Wesley strained to get more of that hot mouth, spreading his legs wider. Had he been able to catch his breath, Wes was fairly sure he'd have begged, anything to get those lips around his cock again.

Then Rupert was taking him in, warm, wet mouth sliding down his throbbing prick, hand rolling his balls as he groaned. It felt like nothing else. Rupert's mouth was so soft, his tongue playing with Wesley's foreskin, providing constant sensation. Wes' body was as tight as his balls, all his muscles clenched.

The fingers on his balls slipped lower, press-sliding over his perineum before rubbing against his entrance. Wesley gasped, half sitting up, hands grabbing for anything close by. Then Rupert pressed inside him, just a little, enough make the burn rise. Wesley moaned, his balls drawing up tight.

"R-Rupert!"

He came, body shuddering from head to toe, muscles clenching, flooding his lover's mouth. He felt Rupert swallow around him and shivered, the last tremors of his orgasm echoing down his nerves.

Rupert pulled away, then crawled up Wesley's body, their mouths meeting in a sated, lazy kiss. The older man relaxed against him, settling in so that his weight was more on the couch than on Wesley. His hands slid over Wes' sweat-slick skin in soothing patterns.

"I . . ." Wesley didn't know what to say. He wanted to say something, wanted to hear Rupert speak to know this was real and not just a very, very vivid dream. "That was . . ."

"Mmm-hmm," Rupert agreed with his wordless description, his lips pressed against Wesley's neck in a soft kiss that made Wes shiver. "It definitely was."