Putting the tray down on a small table in the corner of the room, Wesley sank gratefully into the chair next to it. The trip to the kitchenette had not been that bad. He discovered it just past Sarah and Angel's rooms by following the smell of coffee he picked up as he passed the nurse's station.
He was absurdly proud that he had not asked for directions.
Rupert was dozing comfortably in the chair beside his bed, looking both exhausted and peaceful. It seemed the tenderness he felt earlier for the man was increasing. This is more than just attraction - and phermones.
He did not want to call it love - it was far too soon for that - but there was the distinct possibility that he could love this man. It was seeming slightly less terrifying, but only just.
He prepared his cup of Darjeeling, light sugar and a slice of lemon, and started to put some sugar in Giles' and hesitated. He'd noticed the Earl Gray as part of the fragrance Giles carried around him, but he couldn't quite tell if there was sugar as part of it. He shrugged, and carried Rupert's cup, with a few Smarties biscuits gracing the saucer, to his bedside table.
The slight clatter of the cup against the saucer woke Giles, and twisting, he smiled up at Wesley, who was leaning around the back of the chair. "Thank you."
Wes nodded graciously and walked to fetch his own cup. "I didn't put sugar in it, will you need some?"
There was the soft sound of Rupert sipping his tea, "No, it's perfect. Oh my word, are these Smarties? I may have to kiss you."
"I rather hope so," Wesley muttered to himself as he sat in his chair. Unfortunately, he needed a slight rest.
When he looked up, he found Giles looking at him, his eyes smoldering slightly. "I shouldn't worry, if I were you."
Giles was pleased to see Wesley inhale sharply and blush. "Well, you started it," he teased.
"You are spending far too much time with teenage girls."
"A matter I plan on rectifying in the future."
"Glad to hear it."
They shared a long moment of comfortable, slightly charged silence.
Having fortified himself with a few biscuits, Giles suddenly said. "What are you doing all the way over there? I feel as if I should have a megaphone."
"Or two cans strung on a string? I just wanted a little change," he said, not wanting to say that his burst of energy was dwindling. "Besides, I'm closer to the tea and biscuits here."
Giles was up in an instant, dragging his chair across the floor. "There, that's better," he smiled as he settled himself.
"Much," Wes agreed. "Now, as much as I enjoy watching you work your way through a half a box of Smarties, I think we should exchange information before you fall asleep mid-chew."
"I'm perfectly fine, if a bit silly."
"I'd say so."
Giles looked at him sharply, his hand frozen in mid air as he picked up another biscuit. "Too silly?"
Wes plucked the biscuit from Giles fingers, "Not at all." He took an enormous bite and raising his eyebrows challengingly, enjoyed the look of slight outrage on Giles' face.
"You took my biscuit!"
"I did." Wes ate the other half.
Growling slightly, Giles took another and retreated back into his chair.
Wesley rolled his eyes and said, "Very well, I shall start. You're familiar with the Shanshu prophesy?
"Not really."
"It comes from the scroll of Aberjian, and states that once the vampire with a soul fulfills his destiny, he will be come human."
Giles stopped his chewing and raised his eyebrows.
"Wait, there's more. We were told that the apocalypse that our group just fought through was Apocalypse. Wolfram & Hart had been trying for years to divert Angel from his path because their information was that he'd be a key player in The Apohcalypse, but it was resting on a knife point whether for good or evil. They very nearly succeeded - we are sure that the Senior Partners gave us the L.A. branch in a last-ditch effort to corrupt us. Luckily, Cordelia game Angel one last vision before she died."
"What?"
Wesley scrubbed his face with this hands. "Perhaps Spike and his puppet show would be good about now."
"Never mind, he just has a way of cutting through the story to get to the point."
"Yes, I've often been on the uncomfortable end of that."
"Right - forging ahead. Cordelia was given the gift to come and say goodbye, and deliver one last vision to Angel from the Powers - you knew she was seer?" Giles nodded, "And it was a warning about the Brotherhood of the Black Thorn."
"I thought that was a myth."
"You'd heard of it? I'm surprised."
Giles cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I had a friend who was interested in chaos...and well, in those sorts of circles there are rumors."
"I see," Wes said, not seeing really, but understanding clearly that Giles didn't want to talk about it. "The Brotherhood of the Black Thorn sound like every consipracy theorist's nightmares coming horribly true." Giles nodded his understanding.
" Powerful humans and demons manipulating - world wide - everything from crime to politics. Well, actually that's sometimes the same thing. Angel decided to pursue infiltrating the Brotherhood without telling any of us...which led to a great deal of distrust and confusion...regardless, infiltrate them he did, and while doing so, in order to demonstrate his commitment to evil, was asked to sign away the Shanshu."
"But, you can't really do that, can you? Elect not to be the subject of a prophesy...good lord, I would have written Buffy out of several."
"Exactly, but, in the stress of the moment, Angel believed it, and did it."
"Oh dear."
"Well, I've explained it to him, and we discussed possibly why he nor Spike Shanshu'd. We think it has something to do with the visions the Slayers and I had. Pointing to one conclusion." "Angel's destiny is not over. And that he's part of the next battle."
"If the next battle is the one with the capital letters."
"And Spike....though the dreams are not about him, has a soul, too."
"I know, and you woudn't believe how they squabble about it."
"It does not surprise me, knowing Spike. Well, my story is not as - colorful - as your. Based on the visions, it's quite clear that Angel is important. And I'm wondering, since you were brought back, whether you are mixed in with it as well."
"Perhaps I was just the vehicle for curing Angel."
"Somehow I doubt that."
Wesley shrugged. "I'm wondering myself why I'm still here."
"That's understandable, though I must say I'm rather glad."
"I am, too."
Giles smiled at Wesley until an enormous yawn took him.
"All right, that's that," Wesley said, reaching over and taking Giles' cup from his hand. "Off you go."
"I suppose you're right. Could we discuss avenues of research tomorrow? I'd like to run it by someone who has been doing research recently as most of my team is a bit...antiquated, though that's not always all bad. But one or two of them ramble a bit."
"As always, delighted to help."
"Thank you. Well. Until tomorrow." Giles stood and walked to the door, obviously in thought. He turned back to say something, and discovered Wesley just behind him. "What are you doing?" he said with a puzzled smile.
"Oh, ah," Wesley's smile was slightly embarassed. "I seem to have gone into full host mode and am seeing you to the door."
"Oh. Well, then, thank you for a lovely evening", Giles said softly. He reached down and grasped Wesley's hand, intending to merely hold it a moment. Looking up into those blue eyes, his breath caught, and he found himself leaning forward and brushing a soft kiss across Wesley's lips.
"I've wanted to do that for simply ages," he confessed. "I hope it's not to soon?"
"No,though if you do it again, my knees may finally give way." You have no idea how true that is. Rupert's mouth, soft against his own, smelled of bergamot and orange, sweet and sharp. The touch and the taste and the smell of Giles all around him - slightly tinged with arousal? He was sure to fold up on the spot.
"Couldn't have that, I'm too glad to see you up and about."
"So that I may soundly thrash you at darts?" Any further up and you wouldn't miss it.
"Something like that. See you tomorrow." Giving Wes' hand a final squeeze and releasing it, he turned and put his hand on the door handle.
"Rupert." Wesley's hand touched his shoulder.
Giles turned to find Wes had taken a half step closer. He gulped a little to see the look in the younger man's eye.
"Decided I wanted a chance to say goodnight, " he murmured, and leaned forward.
Giles watched Wesley's mouth move toward his own, the man's lips parted, his breathing seeming to have picked up to the same rate as Giles' own. It seemed so slow, or maybe his heartbeat was just rushing very quickly, or both.
Licking his lips, Giles met Wes halfway, leaning in and bring their mouths together. One of them, maybe both, made a small sound that sent shudders through his body, and Giles' hand came up to cup Wesley's cheek, thumb rubbing over the slightly stubbled skin.
It was tentative at first, small kisses, lips moving over one another almost in synchronous to take in those all too brief tastes. Giles groaned softly, his cock hardening as he darted his tongue out to brush over Wesley's mouth. The man's lips parted eagerly and Giles was lost, pressing inside that gorgeous mouth and feeling Wesley's tongue rub sinuously against his own.
Giles' flavor exploded over his taste buds. Bergamot and orange, the slightest hint of the biscuits and . . . Rupert. The man's own taste was what did it, made his chest tightened, made tingling sparks rush straight to his already hard cock. The feel of those soft lips, an agile tongue brushing every surface, tasting him. The thought alone was enough have him leaning forward, fingers crawling up Giles' shoulder to tangle in the man's hair.
Their bodies came together. Giles gasped at the feel of Wesley against him, his hips jerking forward of their own volition, hard prick meeting hard prick and pulling groans from both their throats.
Breathing hard, Giles pulled away, his eyes focused on Wesley's tongue as it darted out to like the man's lips. His gaze rising slowly to meet startling blue eyes, Giles lick his own lips, savoring the linger taste.
"I . . . I should . . . go," he said hoarsely, hand still resting on Wesley's face, Wes' finger still buried in his hair.
"Right. Uh, y-yes." Wesley seemed to pull himself together, though Giles felt a little smug to see that the man's eyes were still somewhat glazed. Of course, so were his own. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," he echoed, wanting to lean in a taste the other man again, wanting to . . . Slowly, he reminded himself. We're taking this slowly. "I'll . . . see you in the morning."
"Yes. In . . . in the morning. After you've . . . gotten some sleep."
Giles chuckled softly, darting in quickly to brush his lips against Wesley's just one more time. "Sleep? Were I not absolutely exhausted, I'd say, like bloody hell," he muttered, smiling softly.
Wesley gave him one of those rare, shy, smiles that made Giles' breath catch just a little. Pulling, so very reluctantly, was from the other man's grip, Giles stood there for a long moment.
"Goodnight," he said again, feeling a bit like a schoolboy, searching for words to make the moment last for a long as possible.
"Goodnight, Rupert."
Smiling, or perhaps 'grinning like an imbecile' was more apt, Giles turned and made his way out of the safe house, waving a jaunty goodnight to the nurses, who looked at him with raised eyebrows.
Turning back into his room, Wesley shut the door, unable to control the smile that took over his face. His knees felt like jelly. He'd done a bit too much, but, good lord, had it been worth it. Making his way back to his bed, he all but collapsed into it, silly grin still firmly in place.
He was absurdly proud that he had not asked for directions.
Rupert was dozing comfortably in the chair beside his bed, looking both exhausted and peaceful. It seemed the tenderness he felt earlier for the man was increasing. This is more than just attraction - and phermones.
He did not want to call it love - it was far too soon for that - but there was the distinct possibility that he could love this man. It was seeming slightly less terrifying, but only just.
He prepared his cup of Darjeeling, light sugar and a slice of lemon, and started to put some sugar in Giles' and hesitated. He'd noticed the Earl Gray as part of the fragrance Giles carried around him, but he couldn't quite tell if there was sugar as part of it. He shrugged, and carried Rupert's cup, with a few Smarties biscuits gracing the saucer, to his bedside table.
The slight clatter of the cup against the saucer woke Giles, and twisting, he smiled up at Wesley, who was leaning around the back of the chair. "Thank you."
Wes nodded graciously and walked to fetch his own cup. "I didn't put sugar in it, will you need some?"
There was the soft sound of Rupert sipping his tea, "No, it's perfect. Oh my word, are these Smarties? I may have to kiss you."
"I rather hope so," Wesley muttered to himself as he sat in his chair. Unfortunately, he needed a slight rest.
When he looked up, he found Giles looking at him, his eyes smoldering slightly. "I shouldn't worry, if I were you."
Giles was pleased to see Wesley inhale sharply and blush. "Well, you started it," he teased.
"You are spending far too much time with teenage girls."
"A matter I plan on rectifying in the future."
"Glad to hear it."
They shared a long moment of comfortable, slightly charged silence.
Having fortified himself with a few biscuits, Giles suddenly said. "What are you doing all the way over there? I feel as if I should have a megaphone."
"Or two cans strung on a string? I just wanted a little change," he said, not wanting to say that his burst of energy was dwindling. "Besides, I'm closer to the tea and biscuits here."
Giles was up in an instant, dragging his chair across the floor. "There, that's better," he smiled as he settled himself.
"Much," Wes agreed. "Now, as much as I enjoy watching you work your way through a half a box of Smarties, I think we should exchange information before you fall asleep mid-chew."
"I'm perfectly fine, if a bit silly."
"I'd say so."
Giles looked at him sharply, his hand frozen in mid air as he picked up another biscuit. "Too silly?"
Wes plucked the biscuit from Giles fingers, "Not at all." He took an enormous bite and raising his eyebrows challengingly, enjoyed the look of slight outrage on Giles' face.
"You took my biscuit!"
"I did." Wes ate the other half.
Growling slightly, Giles took another and retreated back into his chair.
Wesley rolled his eyes and said, "Very well, I shall start. You're familiar with the Shanshu prophesy?
"Not really."
"It comes from the scroll of Aberjian, and states that once the vampire with a soul fulfills his destiny, he will be come human."
Giles stopped his chewing and raised his eyebrows.
"Wait, there's more. We were told that the apocalypse that our group just fought through was Apocalypse. Wolfram & Hart had been trying for years to divert Angel from his path because their information was that he'd be a key player in The Apohcalypse, but it was resting on a knife point whether for good or evil. They very nearly succeeded - we are sure that the Senior Partners gave us the L.A. branch in a last-ditch effort to corrupt us. Luckily, Cordelia game Angel one last vision before she died."
"What?"
Wesley scrubbed his face with this hands. "Perhaps Spike and his puppet show would be good about now."
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"Again I say, what?"
"Never mind, he just has a way of cutting through the story to get to the point."
"Yes, I've often been on the uncomfortable end of that."
"Right - forging ahead. Cordelia was given the gift to come and say goodbye, and deliver one last vision to Angel from the Powers - you knew she was seer?" Giles nodded, "And it was a warning about the Brotherhood of the Black Thorn."
"I thought that was a myth."
"You'd heard of it? I'm surprised."
Giles cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I had a friend who was interested in chaos...and well, in those sorts of circles there are rumors."
"I see," Wes said, not seeing really, but understanding clearly that Giles didn't want to talk about it. "The Brotherhood of the Black Thorn sound like every consipracy theorist's nightmares coming horribly true." Giles nodded his understanding.
" Powerful humans and demons manipulating - world wide - everything from crime to politics. Well, actually that's sometimes the same thing. Angel decided to pursue infiltrating the Brotherhood without telling any of us...which led to a great deal of distrust and confusion...regardless, infiltrate them he did, and while doing so, in order to demonstrate his commitment to evil, was asked to sign away the Shanshu."
"But, you can't really do that, can you? Elect not to be the subject of a prophesy...good lord, I would have written Buffy out of several."
"Exactly, but, in the stress of the moment, Angel believed it, and did it."
"Oh dear."
"Well, I've explained it to him, and we discussed possibly why he nor Spike Shanshu'd. We think it has something to do with the visions the Slayers and I had. Pointing to one conclusion."
"Angel's destiny is not over. And that he's part of the next battle."
"If the next battle is the one with the capital letters."
"And Spike....though the dreams are not about him, has a soul, too."
"I know, and you woudn't believe how they squabble about it."
"It does not surprise me, knowing Spike. Well, my story is not as - colorful - as your. Based on the visions, it's quite clear that Angel is important. And I'm wondering, since you were brought back, whether you are mixed in with it as well."
"Perhaps I was just the vehicle for curing Angel."
"Somehow I doubt that."
Wesley shrugged. "I'm wondering myself why I'm still here."
"That's understandable, though I must say I'm rather glad."
"I am, too."
Giles smiled at Wesley until an enormous yawn took him.
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"I suppose you're right. Could we discuss avenues of research tomorrow? I'd like to run it by someone who has been doing research recently as most of my team is a bit...antiquated, though that's not always all bad. But one or two of them ramble a bit."
"As always, delighted to help."
"Thank you. Well. Until tomorrow." Giles stood and walked to the door, obviously in thought. He turned back to say something, and discovered Wesley just behind him. "What are you doing?" he said with a puzzled smile.
"Oh, ah," Wesley's smile was slightly embarassed. "I seem to have gone into full host mode and am seeing you to the door."
"Oh. Well, then, thank you for a lovely evening", Giles said softly. He reached down and grasped Wesley's hand, intending to merely hold it a moment. Looking up into those blue eyes, his breath caught, and he found himself leaning forward and brushing a soft kiss across Wesley's lips.
"I've wanted to do that for simply ages," he confessed. "I hope it's not to soon?"
"No,though if you do it again, my knees may finally give way." You have no idea how true that is. Rupert's mouth, soft against his own, smelled of bergamot and orange, sweet and sharp. The touch and the taste and the smell of Giles all around him - slightly tinged with arousal? He was sure to fold up on the spot.
"Couldn't have that, I'm too glad to see you up and about."
"So that I may soundly thrash you at darts?" Any further up and you wouldn't miss it.
"Something like that. See you tomorrow." Giving Wes' hand a final squeeze and releasing it, he turned and put his hand on the door handle.
"Rupert." Wesley's hand touched his shoulder.
Giles turned to find Wes had taken a half step closer. He gulped a little to see the look in the younger man's eye.
"Decided I wanted a chance to say goodnight, " he murmured, and leaned forward.
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Licking his lips, Giles met Wes halfway, leaning in and bring their mouths together. One of them, maybe both, made a small sound that sent shudders through his body, and Giles' hand came up to cup Wesley's cheek, thumb rubbing over the slightly stubbled skin.
It was tentative at first, small kisses, lips moving over one another almost in synchronous to take in those all too brief tastes. Giles groaned softly, his cock hardening as he darted his tongue out to brush over Wesley's mouth. The man's lips parted eagerly and Giles was lost, pressing inside that gorgeous mouth and feeling Wesley's tongue rub sinuously against his own.
Giles' flavor exploded over his taste buds. Bergamot and orange, the slightest hint of the biscuits and . . . Rupert. The man's own taste was what did it, made his chest tightened, made tingling sparks rush straight to his already hard cock. The feel of those soft lips, an agile tongue brushing every surface, tasting him. The thought alone was enough have him leaning forward, fingers crawling up Giles' shoulder to tangle in the man's hair.
Their bodies came together. Giles gasped at the feel of Wesley against him, his hips jerking forward of their own volition, hard prick meeting hard prick and pulling groans from both their throats.
Breathing hard, Giles pulled away, his eyes focused on Wesley's tongue as it darted out to like the man's lips. His gaze rising slowly to meet startling blue eyes, Giles lick his own lips, savoring the linger taste.
"I . . . I should . . . go," he said hoarsely, hand still resting on Wesley's face, Wes' finger still buried in his hair.
"Right. Uh, y-yes." Wesley seemed to pull himself together, though Giles felt a little smug to see that the man's eyes were still somewhat glazed. Of course, so were his own. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," he echoed, wanting to lean in a taste the other man again, wanting to . . . Slowly, he reminded himself. We're taking this slowly. "I'll . . . see you in the morning."
"Yes. In . . . in the morning. After you've . . . gotten some sleep."
Giles chuckled softly, darting in quickly to brush his lips against Wesley's just one more time. "Sleep? Were I not absolutely exhausted, I'd say, like bloody hell," he muttered, smiling softly.
Wesley gave him one of those rare, shy, smiles that made Giles' breath catch just a little. Pulling, so very reluctantly, was from the other man's grip, Giles stood there for a long moment.
"Goodnight," he said again, feeling a bit like a schoolboy, searching for words to make the moment last for a long as possible.
"Goodnight, Rupert."
Smiling, or perhaps 'grinning like an imbecile' was more apt, Giles turned and made his way out of the safe house, waving a jaunty goodnight to the nurses, who looked at him with raised eyebrows.
Turning back into his room, Wesley shut the door, unable to control the smile that took over his face. His knees felt like jelly. He'd done a bit too much, but, good lord, had it been worth it. Making his way back to his bed, he all but collapsed into it, silly grin still firmly in place.
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