"How do you feel?" Giles asked.

"My back hurts a little, but mostly I'm just hopped up on pain medication."

"I would have visited sooner-"

"Buffy comes first, I understand."

"I was worried, when I found out what had happened." Giles patted his hand awkwardly. "It's good that you're alright then."

"Did I do well?" Wesley asked woozily.

"You did very well. I even bought a present for my brave lad."

"You bought me something? Ace!"

"The saleswoman told me I was a lucky man. I'm not quite sure if she meant because I have a lover who can fit into these, or that I have a lover who might actually put them on for me. Do you like them?" Giles removed a miniscule black thong, and a red g-string from a plastic shopping bag.

"GILES!" Wesley squeaked, shoving them back in the bag as his face turned red. "Don't wave them about!"

"I had to steal a pair of your shorts to get your size, I felt a bit strange carrying them around with me." Giles had actually enjoyed holding something that had been worn in such an intimate way, something private of Wesley's. In fact, he'd kept them. No need to tell Wesley that right now.

"Thank you, Rupert." said Wesley. He looked down and picked at the bedspread. "Um-I-I have something I need to tell you."

"Yes, Wesley?"

"I-I kissed Miss Chase."

"How did you like it?" Giles asked, trying to refrain from any instinctual reactions.

"It was awful. "Wesley mumbled. "I thought-well, I had never-"

"Kissed a girl?" Giles prodded carefully.

"Never done anything with a girl. And she was so sweet, and pretty, and she was so nice to me-"

*Cordelia Chase? Sweet?*

"I wanted it to go well. I guess we weren't compatible. Or I was just too nervous. We'll never know, will we? Are you angry?"

"No, No I'm not." Giles sighed. "How can you know what you really want if you don't experiment?"

"You've probably had a lot of girlfriends." Wesley yawned. Giles pulled the covers up to Wesley's chin.

"Remind me to tell you about some of them sometime. You should get some more rest."

"I like it when you sing to me." Wesley whispered, leaning his head back on the pillows. "One song?"

"One song."

"Ground control to Major Tom,
Commencing countdown, engines on.
Check ingition and may God's love be with you."

Wesley closed his eyes.

"This is Major Tom to ground control,
I'm stepping through the door,
And I'm floating in a most peculiar way
And the stars look very different today."

Giles' voice trailed off, he looked down at Wesley, who was sound asleep.

*****

Wesley had officially moved in with Giles, to "aid in his recovery." Giles had even been sleeping on the couch, to avoid temptation to engage in the "strenuous physical activity" forbidden by Wesley's doctor. Wesley had no contract with the high school, and his being sacked from the Council had left him with no health insurance. He'd had to sell his Saab, his silver watch and most of his other things just to pay the hospital bills. Giles tried to help, but his own finances were strained.

Giles was up early on Saturday morning, wandering around his kitchen when the phone rang.

"Rupert Giles here."

"May I speak to Wesley, please?" The deep English voice was devoid of any emotion, he sounded as if he were ordering a pizza.

"I'm afraid he's not able to come to the phone right now."

"This is his father. I suppose I can give you a message." The tone of a long-suffering drill sergent. "Can you take down a message?"

"Yes." *I'm not a five year old*

"Due to his recent behaviour, I have determined that Wesley must face the consequences of his failure. Please inform Wesley that he may come back to England if he wishes to, but he is not to return to the house. Also please inform him that I am cutting off his credit cards, and he will receive no financial support from me."

"I'll tell him." Giles said stiffy, wishing that he could reach his hands through the phone line and strangle this cold unfeeling man. He was starting to understand Wesley more, after just a five minute phone conversation with his lover's father. Icicles could have formed on the reciever.

"And he is not to contact us, under any circumstances, Will you tell him that as well?"

"I'll tell him."

"Good, then. Good day." And the reciever thunked down. Giles went and stood in the doorway of his bedroom, looking down at Wesley. His own parents had never been the poster children for warmth and emotional intimacy, and his father had once or twice threatened to disown him, but Giles knew he never would have gone through with it and certainly not by relaying a message through a stranger on the telephone.

"Who was that?" Wesley asked.

"Your father."

"He-didn't want to speak to me?" A glimmer of hope in Wesley's eyes. Giles sat down on the edge of the bed.

"No, I didn't want to wake you. He didn't have much to say, actually."

"Oh." Clearly disappointed, or perhaps relieved? Giles told him, as gently as possible, what his father had said.

"I suppose it's fitting. "Wesley said in a hollow voice. "I did fail, after all. Some sort of punishment was to be expected."

"I-It was hardly-" Giles began.

Wesley held up a hand. "No. Don't." Smiling stoicly, "What do we have for breakfast?"

*****

Rain poured from the sky, drenching the world in torrents. Thunder crashed and lightning crackled in the Southern California air. In the middle of this June storm, in the loft bedroom of a Spainish style condo in Sunnydale, two bodies moved together under the sheets. Long limbs tangled, hands rubbing and touching and exploring, lips devouring. It was the first time they'd been able to make love since Wesley was released from the hospital, and there was a lot of time to make up for.

Wesley straddled Giles and let himself be penetrated. He didn't like doing it this way-didn't like having Giles look him in the eyes. But Giles wanted it this way, and he thought he was being generous to Wesley. Why would his lover tell him that he hated it? The only thing worse would be if Giles had asked him to top.

Where did Rupert's mind wander to when they made love? Did his mind go anywhere? Did he think about other lovers, or was Wesley enough to hold his attention? He remembered the time, only a couple of weeks ago, when they'd fought. Rupert came upstairs to the bedroom later that night, quite drunk, and held Wesley and said the words "I love you." Words that Wesley had never heard spoken to him before, he was filled with shame that he could not say them back. He'd wanted to, yet he couldn't form the sounds.

*Oh God.* Giles was a good sized man although always so careful not to hurt him. They fit together so naturally, so perfectly, it couldn't be real. Wesley wasn't someone who got to be loved this way.

He came first, awkward and strange for the both of them. He helped Giles clean up, and they curled up together under shafts of silver moonlight from the window, Wesley absently nuzzling the hollow of Rupert's neck.

When Giles awoke the next morning and reached for Wesley, the younger man was gone. Giles put on his clothes and wandered downstairs to look for him.

"Wesley? Wes?" A white folded piece of paper on the counter- Giles picked it up and opened it. Written in Wesley's neat script,

"Dear Rupert,
This is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do..."