Wax And Detail

(A/N: This was co-written with Catscorner)

"Would you care for a wax and detail with your oil change, Sir?"

Giles winced and shook his head vigorously. “No, that won’t be necessary,” he told the young man at the Jiffy Lube before taking a seat in their waiting room. He pawed through the available magazines and reluctantly selected an old issue of Bon Appétit over the current Woman’s Health and did his best to ignore the unholy sensations the Jiffy Lube attendant had inadvertently stirred with his simple question.

Shortly before his fiftieth birthday, Giles had received a gift certificate in the mail for a free "rejuvenation" salon treatment at a newly opened spa in his neighborhood. He thought he’d tossed it out with the other junk mail, but on the day of his birthday, he discovered it on his bedside table. After enduring Xander’s over-the-hill jokes for the past week, Giles was feeling a little down about his advancing age so on a whim he decided to redeem it.

Not knowing what to expect, he headed into Rayney Day Salon and was told that the free certificate was for the “wax and detail” treatment and would be performed by one of their specialists. He wasn’t sure exactly what parts of his person required waxing and wondered what the “detail” would entail, but she assured him that he would be able to customize the service to maximize his pleasure. His mind was set further at ease when an attractive young woman lead him into a cozy room, dimly lit with candles and soothing music. Before she left him alone, she instructed him to undress and lay face down on the long table. The specialist would be in shortly to begin the massage.

Feeling a little uncomfortable, Giles cleared his throat and looked around to make sure there were no cameras as he undressed, folding his clothes neatly and placing them on a chair in the corner. He lay down on the table and draped a towel over his backside. Soon the music and pleasant scents lulled him into relaxation and his eyes drifted closed.

*

Wesley was rather shocked that he’d been asked to help with a birthday surprise for Rupert Giles. Even though he’d come to terms with the mentor/mentee relationship he now enjoyed with the elder watcher, the Slayer and her friends were much closer to him and he would have thought this would be the sort of thing they’d handle. Perhaps the plan required that Giles be lulled into believing nothing was afoot and unlike his charges, Wesley would never be suspected of anything of the sort.

He had to admit that the venue planned for Giles’ surprise was wholly unexpected. The instant he'd walked into the salon and presented the note he’d received concerning the surprise set-up, he was whisked away into a changing room and told that there wasn’t much time, but they’d explain shortly. Wesley put on the loose black tie on pants and a black shirt that had no buttons and could not be fully closed, and frowned. This was highly irregular, and he really ought to leave on that ground alone.

Before he got a question in edgewise, he was rushed up a set of stairs and asked to look through a one way mirror. His mouth literally hung open as he watched Giles strip and got a momentary full frontal glimpse of him right before the head watcher lay down and pulled the towel over his arse.

"I... don't quite understand," Wesley said, swallowing and unable to take his eyes off the mentor he'd spent too many hours thinking about in the past. “This is… highly irregular…” he trailed off, finding it too difficult to argue and concentrate on Giles at the same time.

The highly professional looking woman with a sleek up-do answered him. "We have clientele from all walks of life. Mr. Rupert Giles is a very special guest of our proprietor and has come here to let his... wild side out. Reclaim a bit of his youth, so to speak."

"Really?" Wesley's brows shot up in disbelief, and he looked at her. “I was unaware a massage could do all that.”

"Really. He's here for much more than a standard massage. He’s having our wax and detail service. It’s a premium service and can only be performed by a man. Every part of him requires attention."

Wesley's heart drummed against his chest as all sorts of impossible thoughts invaded his mind. This couldn't be real. It was another dream, or perhaps a day dream brought on by Giles having leaned over him to read a translation he was working on. It had to be… only why wasn’t he back at his desk now that he was blinking away these lurid thoughts of his?

"You'll need to take it slow. You'll be surprised at how quickly he takes to the idea." She flashed him a smile and pointed, "the door is that way."

Beads of sweat gathered on Wesley's brow. He had no idea what to do. "What about instructions... some notes perhaps... a manual?" he trailed off, speaking to an empty room. Damnation.

He really ought to run the bloody hell away from here. And yet, he walked up to the window and knew he could never walk away from this, from the day dreams that had tortured him for years.

Steeling himself, he decided to play a role. The masseuse in a porn film, that was the ticket. And if Giles blew up at him, then he'd play it off as a big hoax.

Bare footed, he padded across the room and pushed the door open, entering the candle lit room. He dragged his warm palm up the sole of Giles' foot, calf, and thigh as he walked up to the counter where the massage oils were stacked together. "I understand you need a bit of release today. All that built up tension," he said, forcing his voice to sound calmer than the rest of him.

Giles tensed reflexively as the unexpected male voice startled him from his relaxed state. “Erm… well… yes. My work is quite stressful,” he answered hastily, desperately trying to quell his anxiety over having a man touch him. People did this all the time -- there was nothing sexual about having a massage – and the distinctly British accent brought with it a certain amount of familiar comfort, he told himself.

“I daresay I’ve never been pampered in quite this manner… I’m told this is your specialty so I’ll trust you to know what you’re doing,” he added to fill the uncomfortable silence as he sensed the man to his side rubbing oils on his hands.

"Full body massage." Wesley couldn't help it if his voice grew a bit thick with lust, or that his eyes were roving over the watcher's broad shoulders and trimmer waist. The curve of his arse under that damnable towel, and his well formed legs. Oddly, his imagination hadn't done the watcher justice. “With complete attention to detail.”

“Yes… yes… a massage. That seems like a good place to start,” Giles cleared his throat to avoid stammering. “Then we’ll see what I’m up for once you finish me off.” He still wasn’t certain about the waxing – it sounded quite painful.

Taking a deep breath, Wesley stood at the head of the table and put his palms down on Giles' upper back and started to glide them up and down. Each time he moved his hands up, Giles' head bounced slightly forward, inching closer to Wesley's groin. Taking another deep breath, Wesley concentrated on Giles rather than on the heat flushing through his system.

His head turned to the side, Giles focused on the irregular patterns in marble wall that seemed to change with each flicker of the candle light. When felt the man’s strong fingers working through the knots in his shoulders and, he let out a low groan. “Good Lord but that feels… quite… splendid,” he said as if surprised. “Please… don’t feel as if you have to be gentle,” he added, emboldened by the thoroughly masculine touch. “I’m not nearly as frail as my years might suggest.”

"Like it rough, do you?" Wesley applied more pressure, splaying his fingers, digging them into Giles’s smooth skin and raking them back and forth, concentrating on those areas where tension bunched the man’smuscles up. Eventually, he was satisfied he'd worked out all the kinks. Leaning down, he whispered near his ear, "so do I," and then started a whole new brand of massage.

Giles’ brows popped up and he released a slight squeak which was quickly squelched by his desire to maintain his composure. There was nothing wrong with a masseuse who enjoyed his work. Nothing at all. He respected the man’s fortitude. And work ethic. Admirable… yes. He cleared his throat and closed his eyes.

This time, Wesley was exploring every inch of Giles' skin, slowly, sensually, making love to the man with his hands... loving the feel of his sides, the way he tensed and released each time his hands moved in too close down his sides to his stomach or near arse.

Good Lord. Giles was getting a workout as each of his muscles involuntarily tensed and released. This must be what they meant by the full treatment. Toning his muscles. Excellent. Yes. And there was nothing at all sexual about the way the masseuse was working his oil slicked hands over his body. The fact that he felt his body temperature rising considerably was completely natural. Certainly it must be the intended effect to achieve the right level of stimulus from the treatment. Yes… yes, that was it.

Wesley moved around the table, pulling up near Giles' waist. He leaned over and started to blow on the watcher's back, long hot breaths that had the watcher clenching his arse. "Good," he said, putting his hand flat on Giles' arse right over the towel and squeezing.

“OH!” Giles let out a startled yelp of surprise and his hips jerked reflexively. A heated flush soared through him and pooled in his groin spawning wholly improper and completely primal urges that he dared not explore further.

He dared not…

But his body had other ideas and he found himself raising his buttocks into the pressure of the man’s hand in order to make room for his quickly growing arousal. “Erm… I seem to be having a bit of trouble relaxing… with your hand there,” his voice sounded raspy to his ears.

"Don't worry, we'll get to all the non-relaxed areas in due course." A muscle flexed in Wesley's jaw. He'd heard the change in Giles' voice, recognized the lust. His body's response had been immediate, and if the watcher turned his head, there was no way to hide what was in his pants.

He pressed again, grinding the heel sof his hands into the towel and moving lower. Each time his hands moved closer together, nearer Giles' crack or lower, he heard the man's sharp intake of breath. He wished he could see Giles' face, hear his thoughts.

Oh bloody hell His body was behaving very poorly. Things were happening. Inappropriate reactions to the stimulus. “Erm… I-I-I rather think…” his bit back a groan and closed his mouth, afraid of what other embarrassing sounds he might make.

Wes rubbed some more oil onto his hands, then moved down lower next to Giles. He tugged the towel down to the man's thighs, and started to knead his bare arse with his oil slicked hands. Occasionally, he would lean over Giles far enough that his surging cock made slight contact with the watcher's thigh. God, this was slow torture.

Clenching his buttocks firmly, Giles strained against the force of the massage until his hips were grinding in a slow circular motion, his erection throbbing against the padded surface of the table beneath him. Despite his best effort to remain detached from what the professional was doing, something powerful stirred deep inside the watcher arousing memories long buried from times long past.

A low moan rumbled through his throat and Ripper turned his head and opened his eyes, darkened with lust and reckless need. Seeing the distinct bulge in the man’s trousers he let out a throaty chuckle. “Seems I’m not the only one with bits that need relaxing, mate…”

"What?" Wes faltered for just one moment. "Oh... right, these ridiculous pants... make everyone look big..." When he made eye contact with Giles, the heat within the man's eyes was almost overwhelming. He had to be imagining it, had to.

He pulled the towel off, and started to massage Giles’ thigh, the insides... moving his hand steadily up towards his sac. Clearing his throat, he asked, "will you allow me to sit on you? Full contact is required for this treatment."

“You’re the professional, Wesley…” Ripper gave the younger watcher a wry smirk. He should have known by the voice who was behind him. Should have known the man was a poofter. He’d seen the way the younger watcher looked at him. Under any other circumstances the elder watcher would have bolted from the room and never looked back – but as it was, Ripper was determined to redeem his birthday gift to the fullest extent.

A tremor of trepidation ran through Wesley. That confident tone, the smirk... it didn't add up quite right. At the very least, he'd have expected a bit of shyness at realizing he was face to face with Wes.

Choosing to accept as true the words of the woman who'd shown him what he was here for, Wesley clamped down on his misgivings. He'd wanted this for so long, and Giles appeared to be playing along at the very least. What was there to think about?

Giving a brief nod, he easily straddled the small of the watcher's back, facing his feet. Then he started to massage him from his arse to his tight and calves, stretching as far as he could, and more than aware that the farther he reached, the harder he was able to grind his arousal against Giles. He slipped forward slightly, finding the groove of the man's arse and closing his eyes as a shiver or pleasure passed through him.

Ripper clenched, the muscles of his buttocks gripping Wesley’s erection like a vice each time he slid forward, only the fabric of the other man’s trousers denying him the debauchery he craved. Lifting his hips abruptly, he forced Wesley to rise high enough so he could twist his torso and flip onto his back. “You did say full-body massage… didn’t you?” he said with a cocksure quirk of his brow as he propped himself up on his elbows and looked down the plane of his body to the round of Wesley’s arse.

Wesley's mouth went dry at the sight of Giles' bare cock now lodged up against his own. "G... Giles?" Turning his head, he saw the wicked challenge in the watcher's eyes and thought he would bloody well die.

"Full body, that's right," he breathed, turning fully so that he now straddled Giles' thighs and faced him. "You don't object to the use of my mouth?" he asked, before leaning down and trailing his mouth up the length of Giles’ abs and torso, massaging his shoulders with his hands and slowly thrusting against his cock. Waves of heat inched through his veins, but he did his best to remember he was the masseuse, he was the one in control, and maybe, just maybe his dream of fucking the head watcher would come true.

His entire body was on fire, surging with a need so primal that he lost all sense of decorum. “Object? I bloody well insist on it,” he jerked his hips up and slid his hand over Wesley’s backside so he could grind up into him with controlled force. “And call me Ripper…” he added in a hoarse whisper as his breathing grew more ragged with each powerful movement of his hips.

The jolt of heat from the sudden firm contact between them was electrifying. "Gi... Ripper," he gasped, willing to call the man fucking him like that anything he wanted. He made no more pretense of professionalism, how could he the way his client was maneuvering him and showing him exactly what he liked and wanted?

Right, he was under no illusion as to who was doing the riding here... it was Ripper, there was no question. Wesley leaned down and sought his mouth out, half afraid of rejection, half afraid of what he'd find. He wanted to maintain some semblance of control and Giles was making it very difficult.

Clamping his mouth down over the watchers, he stroked his tongue once, lifted up to look into his grey eyes, and then brought his mouth back down. This time, he kissed him deeply, with all the passion and desire that had been building over the years, and the lust that was being fanned each time Ripper snapped his hips up hard against him.

The smoldering kiss ignited a firestorm of carnal desire that blazed unchecked into a raging inferno. With single-minded focus, Ripper tore through the fabric of Wesley’s shirt as if it were tissue, his hands exploring the masculine lines of his muscles while his mouth devoured the chiseled planes of his face, jaw, and neck. He felt Wesley’s arousal straining against the loose fabric of his trousers as their cocks slid against one another in a steady rhythm and as their breathing grew more labored, Ripper clamped his mouth over the other man’s adam’s apple, sucking hard to feel the vibrations of Wesley’s groans as they rolled through his throat.

In the moments that Wesley tried to keep control over the situation, the tables were turned on him. It was Giles... Ripper who called the shots, Ripper who stripped his top and gained access to his bare skin, Ripper whose teeth were scraping along his throat and sending desire through his system. Blood surged to his cock, making him ache and pulse as he strained harder and harder against Giles' arousal.

Wesley's heart slammed against his chest, so hard, the other man had to feel it. He moved his hands over his shoulders, and chest, digging his fingers into Ripper each time they moved together. Needing more, he sought out Ripper's mouth, groaning as firm lips pressed against his, and their tongues collided. He started to ride Ripper, ride him hard as he imagined turning him over and fucking him. "Oh God... want you," he managed hoarsely, lifting up on his knees to pull his loose pants down, but never breaking contact with Giles' mouth.

Ripper’s mouth twisted into a wicked grin even as he continued the erotic duel of tongues, waiting until the younger man had shed his remaining clothes before he fisted his hair and pulled his head back, pinning him with a smoldering gaze. Slowly, Ripper moved to grip taut shoulders, his eyes still fixed on Wesley’s as he guided him down the length of his body until his face was hovering over his cock. “Show me your attention to detail,” he demanded his voice thick with arousal.

The blatant order made Wesley's stomach knot with lust. No one had ever talked to him like that, pushed him around so. His eyes locked with Ripper's, he lowered himself, and tongued the watcher's tip, before taking only his crown into his mouth and sucking. He pressed his hands down on the man's powerful thighs, stopping him from coming up off the bed, and repeated the motion.

"Just polishing up the edges first," he said, with determined rebellion, as he felt Ripper pushing him down. "If anything, I'm thorough," he said, quoting one of the comments Giles himself had marked on the last review of his performance. "And versatile..." This time, he used the flat of his tongue to stroke the length of Ripper's shaft, cupping his sac and playing with him, but not as gently as his tongue was working him.

Ripper arched his back and let out a guttural groan of pleasure before his head came back up so he could watch the other man work his cock with his tongue. “Good show… well chuffed, man,” he sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. “Remind me to thank your mentor…” His hands tangled in his short hair, battling to coax the other man to take his full length in his mouth as his hips bucked upward. “Right, that would be me.”

Wesley hummed around Giles' cock, slowly pushing down and taking him... all of him. The intensity of Ripper's reactions was sending heat pooling to Wesley's groin. It shouldn't matter who had control over the situation, but somehow it did... so Wesley made every one of his movements painfully slow, pleasuring the watcher, but making him need more, making him wordlessly plead for more... God, the sight of his mentor squirming, wanting... the sight of those grey eyes filled with heat was almost too much to bear.

With every suck, every lick, every swallow around Ripper's cock... pressure built low in Wes' stomach. He pulled off. "Turn around. I need to be inside you," he said, feeling almost out of his depth, but not understanding why that could be.

His strangled cry of frustration was replaced with a sharp bark of laughter as Ripper hauled Wesley up until his powerful thighs seized the younger man’s hips. Knees bent, he held him firmly in place as he rocked his pelvis upward until he could feel Wesley’s erection nudging against his opening.

He’d been so close. His own cock ached with need. “Since when do you call the shots, mate?” Ripper drawled, his accent thick. “You’ll have me when I say you’ll have me.” He squeezed his thighs, forcing Wesley to lever his body so his abdomen came down against his cock so he could ride the friction as he pulled him into a brutal kiss.

Blood pounded Wesley's temples as he fought to win the power struggle between them. His tongue dueled and fucked Ripper's mouth, neither one giving in as their mouths crushed together so hard, a day wouldn't be enough to erase the evidence of their passion.

Wesley's frustration built as each time he tried to push into his lover, anticipating how it would feel to finally sink into him, Ripper moved his knees up like a piston, dragging Wesley up his body and away from his mark. "Damnation. I need to be inside you," he growled, slipping his hand between their bodies and gripping Ripper's cock. It was like silk stretched over steel, and he knew Ripper was just as close.

Lifting his head, he stared into Ripper's eyes, groaning each time he fucked ... just a little bit harder, just a little bit closer... "Really. Need. To." He was so pushed... so near the end of his control, he was prepared to use more force to roll Ripper over.

Ripper felt Wesley shift so he was kneeling between his legs, gaining enough leverage to have his way and flip him, but the elder watcher drew on his years of experience and countered the maneuver by hooking his leg over the other man’s shoulder to slam his arse hard against Wesley’s groin, letting the other man slide his cock between his muscular cheeks. Ripper ground himself against him, hissing out his pleasure as the younger watcher pumped his cock with hard, insistent strokes.

Ready to take him, Ripper angled his hips until he felt the head of Wesley’s cock pressed into his opening and then all at once he twisted and jerked his long legs around his shoulder, letting out a sharp cry of ecstasy at the sheer force of the impalement. “Now you bloody well may have me…”

Wesley bit down so hard on his lower lip, he tasted blood. White hot heat encompassed his body as Ripper closed tightly around him. Wrapping his arms around Ripper's thighs, he helped keep him high on his shoulders as he ground his hips against his arse, sinking all they way inside him... pulling out, and fucking him again.

From the pressure of Ripper's heels pressing into his back and urging him on, Wes realized each time he stopped, the man was getting a little more frustrated. "Payback's a real bitch," he said, getting as much pleasure from the need he saw in the watcher's eyes, as he was getting each time he thrust into him. "Ask me... ask me to fuck you hard, Ripper," he said, keeping his strokes short... torturing himself as much as he was torturing the other man.

A sneer curled Ripper’s lips, eyes dark with lust fixed on Wesley. His balls drew up tight and he took a deep, controlled breath. Just feeling the other man jerking himself into forbidden depths was enough to keep his own arousal hard as steel. “Take all the time you like, mate…” he said plainly as he stroked his own cock almost lazily, knowing it would drive the young man to the brink to watch him bringing himself off. “And then when you’re ready to man up… you may fuck me as hard as you like…” Ripper dawned a cocksure smile, his gaze never wavering from the younger watcher.

Mesmerized, Wesley broke into a sweat. Between the verbal challenge, and his bird's eye view of Ripper pleasuring himself ever so surely, Wes' control was tested to its limits. Each time Ripper touched himself, each time his fist slipped up his shaft, Wes wanted to be that hand... wanted to be the only source of his pleasure.

"Damnation," he croaked, lunging forward and forcing Ripper to take all of him. He pulled back slightly, but unable to stop himself, he started to thrust, pistoning his hips, fucking Ripper hard and fast... not holding back. A firestorm of heat and need spread through him, until he was delirious and incoherent, and desperate... so desperate. With one hand, he reached down and shoved Rupert's away, taking over... fucking his mentor with his cock and with his hand.

It wasn't enough, and hard as it was on both of their bodies, he pressed forward and reached Ripper's mouth, fucking it with his tongue, taking him yet another way, even as he imagined mocking words ... challenges falling from that mouth. He'd take them, every one of them, he'd show him... show him good.

Until that moment, the elder watcher had doubts that his body could still bend in the ways it had in his youth… back when he and Ethan Rayne had first explored each other in unimaginable ways. But when Wesley’s mouth came down over his, Ripper seized him, panting into the kiss with ragged breaths while his entire body thrummed to new heights of ecstasy.

“Bloody. Hell. Wesley,” he gasped as he strained against the surge that filled his groin in response to the punishing strokes that pounded against his pleasure center from the inside out. “Fucking. Bloody. Hell,” the cry broke from his lips as he released in an explosive climax that had him writhing and jerking against Wesley’s hand.

"Bloody. Fucking. Hell, indeed," Wes shouted his explosive orgasm coming a few seconds after Ripper, and holding him tight as his body continued to be wracked by waves of pleasure. "Brilliant," he rasped, slowly relaxing until he collapsed on top of Rupert.

Ripper's heart was still out of control, and Wesley could feel it beating under his ear. Turning slightly, he kissed the watcher over his heart. "Bloody brilliant birthday wish. Did I miss any spots?" he asked, eventually raising his head and locking gazes with him.

“No, you were quite thorough,” Giles said with an approving nod. “But how did you know it was my birthday?”

"I didn't. And even had I known, I wouldn't have pulled his... I didn't know you would take pleasure out of this sort of thing," he said, trying to brace his weight on his elbows as there was no room to roll over. "I received an invitation from the owner of the spa, a Mr. Rayne. I thought it was to be a surprise party for you, and then they explained you have needs... and a birthday wish. I hardly believed, but when you seemed to play along..." Wesley gave a lopsided grin. "I never imagined..." In truth, he had imagined very often. Only, he'd never thought even for an instant that what he imagined would ever venture into the realm of reality.

“Mr. Rayne…” Giles’ head fell back and he let out a breathless chuckle, a lecherous smirk plain on his lips. “Bloody bollocks. Wax and detail my arse. Ethan has one-upped me again…”

(A/N: If you enjoyed this, please let us know. It's our first time pairing up Giles/Wes)