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.
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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