As he parked his car, Giles remembered that he had never given Wesley a key. Wesley had been sitting here waiting for him to come home and unlock the flat. School got out at 2:30, teachers were released at 3:00, and it was now 5:00. So Wesley had been sitting there for two hours. The older man walked passed his lover, slipped the key into the lock and opened the door. Wesley followed him inside, still silent, sitting down on the couch and folding his hands nervously. Giles ignored him and went about his usual after school routine. After a few minutes, Wesley went upstairs, Giles was left alone in the sitting room.

It was better this way, really, it was. They both needed some space. He was livid, angry with Faith, with the Mayor, the Council, and furious with Wesley for not having enough backbone to stand up to Travers. Wesley came back downstairs wearing a sweatsuit and sneakers. He walked out the front door and closed it behind him. Not slamming the door, Wesley would never slam a door.

Giles eased himself into a chair and closed his eyes. Getting involved with a company man had been a mistake. He had hoped that he could show Wesley another way, or perhaps he'd just wanted someone to share his bed. It had started out as a meaningless screw and ended up a relationship. Occasionally having sex with men was very different from Having A Boyfriend.

And Boy was the right word, at least in Giles' mindset. Wesley wasn't even 30, while Giles himself was almost 50 years old. About a 24 year age difference. Giles was old enough to be his lover's father. In fact, he had graduated the Academy two years after Robert Wyndam-Pryce.

*No wonder people look at us oddly when we go out in public together.*

*They've doubtless been whispering about us since the day Wesley arrived at Sunnydale High. *

*****

Wesley jogged along the road. The hot sun glimmered off the car windows and metal signposts. Running never actually helped, despite what people claimed. At least in Wesley's mind it never helped. But it allowed him to get away from the thing which upset him, in this case, Giles.

Maybe it was easy for Rupert to ignore a lifetime's training. Not for Wesley. Orders were orders and rules were rules. The world would be in chaos if no one followed the rules, right?

Right?

He felt so lost and confused now. Raised to be obedient to the Council, Wesley wasn't sure he had it in him to say no to them. Giles was angry, treating Wesley as if he had some sort of disease. That hurt more than any possible loss of employment. Buffy hated him even more than she had before, and her friends were sure to follow suit. His other slayer was a homicidal maniac and the whole town could be obliterated by Friday. And they would all blame him, he was sure.

If they were still alive by then.

*****

Giles realized that his cup of tea had been replaced at some point in the past two hours by a now half empty bottle of scotch. Although he couldn't remember moving from his chair.

*I'm getting old. Old, old, old. I'm a dirty, drunk old man.*

Wesley came inside, and went upstairs again. Giles watched him go, wondering why he was with this person. Because his bum looked so damn cute in those tailored pants? Because he sounded and smelled like home? Because even though Wes sniped and argued with him during the day, in bed he was a submissive little kitten?

Or maybe Giles was just lonely and desperate and looking for someone who wasn't Jenny, or Joyce, or Ethan.

Using Wesley?

No. If he wanted someone to use, Giles was sure he could find someone a good deal less hard to put up with than Wesley Wyndam Pryce.

Then why?

The words Willow had said to him, that day in the library when she coaxed the truth out of him came back.

"He needs you," she had said, looking at him with her wise-beyond-her-years owl eyes.

Wesley needed Giles. For whatever reason, he was needed by this young man. Even if it was just to show him how to love and be loved, that was enough.

Giles struggled to his feet and made his way upstairs. The light in his bedroom was off, he could see the thin form under the blankets, turned away from the doorway. Giles took off his clothes and got into the bed. Reaching out to touch Wesley's shoulder, he moved him so that their bodies were snuggled together.

"I love you." Giles mumbled drunkenly. When Wesley pressed his face against Giles' shoulder, his cheeks were wet.