Eyes

Wesley wasn't sure why Rupert had brought him to the club. Rupert knew he couldn't dance and neither of them listened to the loud, clanging music that was playing. Still there had been something in the other man's eyes when he'd suggested it, and he'd never been able to turn Rupert down.

"Now what," Wesley asked, practically shouting over the music. Rupert grinned. Not the kind of smile he had on an everyday basis, but another one, not entirely nice. He knew what that look did to Wesley. Why was he pulling it now?

"Follow me," Rupert said in that voice he only used when . . . oh, god. Wesley swallowed hard, his cock perking up and his heart rate soaring as he followed the other man to a more or less dimly lit corner. It wasn't dark, by any means, but dimmer because the multi-colored lights didn't quite reach it.

"Rupert, what--"

Rupert gave him a look that said he hadn't been told he could speak and Wesley sucked in a breath, snapping his mouth shut as his prick hardened. Rupert leaned into the corner, motioning for Wesley to come stand in front of him. Licking his lips, Wes moved before the other man, letting Giles' hands guide him to turn toward the crowd of dancers, the musicians, the tables where couples and groups sat talking and laughing.

"Are you hard for me, Wes?" Rupert whispered in his ear, leaning in and licking along the rim, making Wesley shudder.

"Yes," Wesley whispered, his breath growing quicker by the instant, butterflies rioting in his stomach. Rupert couldn't be about to ask him to do anything. In public? With all those eyes just ready to turn and . . . his jeans were becoming uncomfortably tight.

Rupert pulled him back until he was leaning against his lover, the man's equally hard cock pushing against his arse. Rupert's hands were on his hips, holding their bodies together as the man continued to whisper in his ear.

"Take yourself out."

Wesley's heart skipped a beat at the words, his throat constricting and the butterflies spreading throughout his body as his cock and balls began to tingle. He opened his mouth to say that someone might see, but as he knew that was the point, he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm down. Giles waited without speaking, his hands rubbing at Wes' hips.

Wesley's breathing picked up again as he moved his hand to the fastening of his jeans. Even with the music pumping through the room, the sound of that popping button seemed quite loud to his ears.

"That's it," Rupert encouraged, those large hands massaging, thumbs sweeping back to rub over his arse as the man pressed his erection a little harder against Wesley.

A small whimper escaped Wes as he drew down the zipper. He made himself keep his eyes open, trying to watch the stage, the dance floor and the sitting area all at once. His heart was pounding his chest as he reached inside his trousers, pushing into his boxers to pull out his rigid shaft.

"Stroke yourself," Rupert said, and Wesley's knees almost went weak from the words alone, never mind that low, dark tone.

Wesley's eyes flickered about the room, his whole body heaving with his breaths. Slowly, at first, he moved his hand along his shaft, but his pace quickened soon, as Rupert began talking to him.

"Too bad I can't take you here. Would love to push your trousers to your knees, take you up against this wall where everyone could see, could watch me push into you."

Wesley was trembling with the effort of holding himself up. One of Rupert's arms slid around him, pulling them tight together and supporting his weight. Rupert was rubbing his cock against Wes' arse and a moan escaped the younger man's lips. Stomach flipping now, Wesley couldn't help another whimper.

There were a few people watching them. Swallowing hard, his balls tightening a bit, Wesley sped his strokes, choking back the louder sounds.

"Oh, no. Don't hold back. I want to hear each and every moan and whimper. People are watching you. Seeing you stroke yourself, seeing your gorgeous cock and your hand moving over it, seeing you touch yourself."

Wesley groaned; thumb swiping over the head of his cock and collecting pre-cum to smooth the strokes. He was rock hard, his balls tingling, his prick all but drooling. Rupert's hand left his hip, reaching down to gather some of the pre-cum leaking from his cock. Wesley gasped a Rupert lifted his fingers, pressing them lightly to Wesley's lips.

Swallowing hard, Wes flicked out his tongue, licking at Rupert's fingers and fisting himself faster, harder.

"Very good," Rupert whispered in his ear. "So beautiful. Harder, Wesley."

Whimpering, Wesley nodded, his hand pulling hard on his cock, his head lulling back onto Giles' shoulder, though he watched the room through slitted eyes. Giles was kissing his neck now, licking and sucking in all the right places and Wes could only whimper, his body tingling, balls drawing up tight as he stroked himself. He went still, all his muscles tensing. Giles bit hard on his neck and Wesley came with a low moan, shuddering as he poured his release over his hand.

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Giles handed it to Wes, his arm around the man's chest still pretty much the only thing keeping Wesley on his feet. Blinking at the handkerchief, Wes blushed as he realized what they'd just done.

Glancing quickly around, he found both of them the focus of a few hungry stares. Shivering at the memory, he turned his mind to cleaning himself up, tucking himself in.

"Nicely done, love," Giles whispered in his ear, kissing his temple, the words making Wes shiver all over again. "How about we go home?" Giles thrust himself lightly against Wesley, who turned in the other man's arms.

"Oh, yes, but don't expect to, er, get off easy after this."

Giles threw his head back and laughed.