written by Lostgirl
Spoilers: Set Season Three BtVS.
Thanks: Big thanks to Petsitter for the awesome beta!
Dedication: Written for Malnpudl
Feedback Author: Lostgirl
Author's Website: Just Slightly Fixated
Author's LJ: Ink Stained Fingers
Wesley stood before the checkout desk, wearing a scowl so that Buffy would mistake his purpose. Buffy just rolled her eyes, sauntering out
of the library with the kind of sigh only teenaged girls could muster with any sincerity.
"She thinks you're here to remind us, once again, that you should be included in training sessions," Giles commented, throwing a towel over
his shoulder and picking up a gym bag before walking right past Wes. Repressing the urge to run after the man, Wesley turned and followed at
a more sedate pace.
"Perhaps I am," he said with a sly chuckle.
Giles stopped at the locker room door, smiling. "I certainly hope that's not why you're here." The man disappeared through the door and
"Well, would you rather I tell her I'm here to ravish her Watcher in a shower big enough for the task?" Wesley stopped short when he slipped
through the doors to find Giles right there, facing him.
"Hmm. No. That would probably send her screaming." With a shake of his head, Giles leaned in for a kiss. Wesley groaned softly at the feel
of the man's lips, darting his tongue out to lick along the bottom one.
He blinked when Giles pulled away, swallowing hard as he realized that the man was turning to undress. His eyes, and much of his mind, were
focused on the way Giles slid his shirt over his shoulders, the smooth glide of his arms in an economy of movement that both was and was not
grace. He watched as Giles pulled off his undershirt, fascinated by the tensing and relaxing of muscle and skin.
"That or she'd believe we were under the influence of some demon possession or another," Giles was saying. Wesley blinked, trying to pry
his gaze off that strong back and the scars that marked it here and there. He wanted to lick them, slide his tongue over each scar, taste
Giles' sweat-slicked skin and--
/*Stop it!/* he told himself in an attempt to concentrate on shedding his own clothing.
"Would you like my help with that?" Giles asked after turning and finding Wesley's eyes on him. Wesley's hands paused in the middle of
undoing his top button. Nodding, he stepped toward Giles, meeting him halfway. Giles moved to finish the job Wes was too preoccupied to do
Chuckling, Wesley leaned in and nipped at Giles' collarbone, felt the man's hands fumble a bit with the buttons. "We may have to do this more
often," Wes said as he licked at Giles' skin, burying his nose in the crux of neck and shoulder and sucking lightly.
His ministrations pulled a groan from Giles and Wesley grinned, moving his hand to the man's hip. Giles' chuckled, the sound hoarse and almost
right against his ear. Then Giles' teeth were working his earlobe, those strong hands undoing the last button of his shirt.
Wesley concentrated on Giles' shoulder, licking the salty skin and nipping here and there, breathing in the man's scent. Giles slid
Wesley's jacket off his shoulders and Wes moved his arms to make it easier, though he didn't pull his mouth away. The coat, and his shirt
with it, fell to the floor and Wesley pulled away quickly, just long enough to tug his undershirt over his head and toss it away.
Then he and Giles were slamming back together, naked chest to naked chest, hands running over smooth or sweaty skin. Kissing was not the
word to describe the way their mouths clung together, lips rubbing, teeth nipping. Giles started them moving and Wesley went along, hoping
the older man knew where the showers were because, by then, he was too caught up to remember.
Giles found the half-wall that hid the showers from view, thumping against the tile, his hands never stilling in their exploration of
Wesley's back and neck though he grunted slightly at the impact. There was another of those hoarse chuckles against Wesley's ear. For a
moment, Wes was tempted to ask what Giles found funny, but that would have meant he'd have to stop licking at Giles' shoulder, stop tracing
the veins of the man's arms, stop licking over the thick black lines of tattoo. It probably would have meant he'd have to stay upright instead
of dropping to his knees and nipping at Giles' hard thigh through his trousers.
Giles wasn't chuckling any more. Wesley looked up Giles' body to find the man's head thrown back against the tiles, his mouth open and
panting. Now it was Wesley's turn to laugh, reveling in the power of it. To have Rupert Giles speechless and wanting was... exhilarating.
Giles' hands were on his shoulders, squeezing gently, the pressure increasing as Wesley began undoing Giles' belt, sliding it out of the
loops with a flick of his wrist he'd perfected only because Giles gave him so much practice. Panting, he found himself almost growling as he
tugged at the button. It resisted at first, but soon gave under the pressure of Wesley's desperation.
Giles groaned as Wes pushed his trousers down his hips, dragging Giles' boxers with them and over the erect cock they'd covered. Wesley paused,
his eyes sweeping up Giles' body. After a moment, Giles looked down at him, his eyes hot and dazed, but questioning.
"Ask nicely," Wesley said with a smile, his lips so close to Giles' cock that he knew Giles had to be able to feel the breath of his words.
Giles gasped and then pressed his lips together firmly. Wesley loved it when Giles got stubborn.
It wasn't possible to hold the man's gaze, so Wes didn't try. He leaned in slowly, his tongue darting out to lick along the crease where groin
met thigh. Giles made a choked sound and Wesley smiled, nipping gently at the same spot. His hands were kneading Giles' hips, pressing him
against the cool tiles as he worked his way down one of Giles' thighs and back up the other.
Giles writhed beneath his hands, making short, hard sounds, but still refusing to say the one word that would get him some relief, albeit
temporary. His breathing was fast, loud in the empty room, and had Wesley's own cock twitching.
Determined to coax the word out of Giles, Wesley nibbled his way up to the man's navel and then licked his way down again, tongue zigging
through coarse hair and circling lightly around the base of Giles' dick before sliding lower. He heard a choked sound from Giles, but it wasn't
actually distinguishable as a word. He went about his tasks, licking softly at the man's balls while he buried his nose close to the base of
"Please," Giles groaned, the sound echoing off the shower tiles and lockers.
Wesley was tempted to pull back, to ask Giles if that had been so very hard, but he didn't think either of them was up to that. Instead, he
lapped his way up Giles' straining erection, swirling his tongue around the head, tasting his lover's pre-cum. He took only a moment to revel
in Giles' moans before sliding his lips around Giles' cock, rubbing his tongue along the shaft. He tightened his grip on Giles' hips to keep
the man from bucking into his mouth.
"Wesley," Giles choked out. There was more plea in that word than there had been in the last.
Wes nodded, the action drawing one last hissing breath from Giles, before he pulled away and let Giles help him to his feet. Then they
were kissing, crashing together, cock grinding against cock, stumbling closer to their planned destination. Wesley's back met the wall this
time and the heat of Giles' body only made the cold of the tiles more noticeable, though he cared much less than he might have at any other time.
He groaned into Giles' mouth as the man's hands ran over his body, seemingly everywhere. Giles' knee wedged between his thighs, applying
just enough pressure to feel good. Wesley's hips moved frantically, arse slapping against the shower tile as he thrust his aching cock
One hand left his skin and Wesley whimpered at the loss. Then hot water was rushing over them and Giles' hand returned. The water made them
both more slippery, lessened the friction and turned each thrust into a glide that soon had them both panting. Wesley nipped and sucked at
Giles' earlobe while Giles bit along his neck and shoulder. Wes slid his hands down Giles' wet back, trying to pull their bodies even tighter
"Now," Wesley all but demanded, his cock throbbing. Giles didn't even bother to ask if he was sure, he knew Wesley well enough by now that he
didn't need to. Instead, Giles nodded, nipping quickly at his lips.
"Be right back." Giles dashed from the shower and Wesley worried for a moment about him slipping on the slick floor. Then Giles was back, lube
and condom in hand, retrieved from his gym bag. His eyes skimmed Wesley's body in a way that had once made Wes want to cover himself.
Now it made his throat tight, his mouth dry, his whole body tense with anticipation.
Wesley coveted that hoarse tone, the short words from a man who could talk for hours if given a topic and small encouragement. Swallowing
hard, he turned toward the wall, taking a wide stance and sighing happily at the fall of hot water down his back. The tile had been
warmed by his body, by the water, and there was no shock as Giles' body pressed Wes' cock against it.
He groaned at the feel of Giles' hand on his hip and then leaned his forehead against the tiles, panting as that hand skimmed over his arse.
His ears were tuned for the sound of the lube's cap popping and he forced himself to relax as he heard it. Giles was speaking. Short
words, always short words, short sentences, most with his name in them somewhere. The actual words passed him by when the tone by itself was
enough to make him shudder.
It seemed an endless moment before Giles was ready. Wes heard the bottle of lube hit the tiled floor and then there were warm, slick hands
on his arse. Wesley moaned, pressing himself back.
Giles slid one finger along his crease, too gentle to part him. Wesley made an insistent sound and the pressure increased, that finger circling
his opening, making him gasp. Giles' free hand slid up his side, over his stomach and then down. Slick fingertips slid far too lightly over
his erection and Wesley almost forgot how to breathe.
"Giles," he heard the demand in his own voice, heard that low, dark chuckle from behind and then heard himself moan as one finger slid
inside him and Giles' fist closed around his cock. "God, yes."
Wesley pushed against the finger inside him and then thrust forward into Giles' fist before working himself backward again. Giles licked and bit
at his neck, his ear, his shoulder. Another finger pressed into him and Wesley called out his partner's name, thrusting hard into Giles' fist.
Apparently realizing how close Wes was, Giles' grip loosened, a fact about which Wesley had mixed feelings for the three seconds before
another finger pressed into him.
He choked back a scream, pushing back hard against Giles' hand, welcoming the burn as it pushed him back from the edge just enough. He
closed his eyes, concentrating of the feeling of being filled, almost.
"Want you." Giles groaned into his ear and Wesley found himself nodding frantically, unable to speak past the small sounds coming from his
throat. Giles thrust his fingers deeper, rubbing over Wes' prostate. Wesley gasped, slamming his cock forward into Giles' hand.
"Rupert." That was it, and they both knew it. Wesley was too close to the edge, ready to topple over it. Giles withdrew his fingers. Wes
barely had time to register the loss before the head of Giles' cock was pressed against him. "Rupert," he said again, softly this time.
Giles pressed into him slowly. Wesley forced himself to remain still, relishing the slow burn, Giles' face buried in his neck, murmuring
unintelligible words. Wesley found himself panting hard, forcing himself to remain relaxed, to keep from clenching tight around his
Finally, Giles was buried inside him, both of them panting, bodies rocking back and forth in a rhythm neither of them had noticed
starting. Wesley pushed back, gasping as Giles' fingers closed tight around his cock once again. That's what started it, the frantic
thrusting of both their hips, moving in counter-measure to one another. Soft moans filled the room, echoed by the slap of body against body.
Giles' fingers moved along his shaft, inexorably speeding the pace. Wesley's balls drew up, his body tensing, clenching and drawing a long,
low moan from Giles. His nerves came alive, singing with the feeling that raced through him as orgasm crashed down. Pushing against the
wall, he met Giles' thrusts with equal force as Giles milked his orgasm to the very last. He clenched hard around his lover, felt the man go
stiff behind him, jerking once, echoing Wesley's groan as he came.
They both collapsed forward, Wesley squashed against the wall and hardly caring. As was his habit, Giles kissed his neck and shoulders as they
both caught their breath. Wesley smiled, feeling languid and sated, his body nearly boneless. He was fairly certain that Giles' weight against
him was the only thing holding him up.
"We must do this again," Wesley finally panted out.
"Hmmm. Quite. That or one of us will have to move to a flat with a larger shower." Giles moved away from him, pulling out and tying off
the condom before wrapping it in tissue and tossing it into a small plastic bag to be thrown away somewhere less incriminating.
"Cheaper to do it here," Wesley countered, turning to lean his back against the now warm wall, watching as Giles moved, naked, around the
locker room, gathering the things needed for an actual shower.
"More likely to get us caught," Giles answered.
"You're telling me that wasn't part of the thrill?"
Giles turned to him, smiling. Then the man chuckled and it was that same low sound Wesley had been hearing all night. "I didn't say that at