Morning? Fic.
Er, I need to go to bed, but, before I do . . . I bring you smut! It's about 2,000 words, but not the 2,000 words I've been talking about. *G* That's right, a completely different 2,000 words. (See? I need to go to bed! :-D )
Title: A Night Off From Research
Author: Lostgirl
Pairing: Giles/Wesley
Rating: NC-17
Summary: PWP. Very. Er, did I mention very?
Spoilers: Er, no.
Warnings: D/s, unbeta'd
Feedback and Concrit adored: lostgirlslair @ yahoo.com
Disclaimer: All things BtVS and AtS belong to Joss Whedon and various corporate entities. I am neither.
Wesley was deep into his research when Buffy finally left the library. He nodded toward her when she said a desultory goodbye, but went right back to his work. Well, back to his work until he heard Giles calling for him from the office.
Unsure what the man wanted now, but prepared to be quite cross if it was about something Buffy should have told him first, Wesley pushed out his chair and stalked into the office. "What is it, Mr. Giles? I really don't have the time . . ."
He stopped just inside the doorway, mouth hanging open for a moment before he could summon the presence of mind to close it. "Mr-Mr. Giles?" The man was leaning up against his desk, his hand cupping a rather obvious erection through his trousers. At first, Wesley couldn't take his eyes off the sight. He heard himself make a small, soft sound before he finally remembered to look Giles in the eyes.
Giles raised an eyebrow at him, so casual Wesley blinked, finding the whole scene not only arousing, but extremely disconcerting. He straightened his posture, swallowing and trying very hard to breathe. "You wanted me?" He asked. It wasn't until Giles chuckled that way, smooth and dark, that Wesley actually heard what he'd said. He blushed a deep red and began stammering, trying to explain that he hadn't meant it that way.
"Well, it's rather too bad you didn't, isn't it?" Giles replied, stepping closer to Wesley, the slightly amused, slightly hard look in the man's eyes doing odd this to Wes' breathing. "As that is rather how I meant it." Giles reached out, his hand brushing down Wesley's chest and catching on one of the buttons.
Wes heard that same small noise again and thought he should back up, or speak up, or do something besides standing there and failing to tell himself he didn't want Giles hand to dip down that way, to cup his hardening cock that way. "Uh, I . . . I," Wesley swallowed hard, his hips betraying him with a quick buck to get more of that delicious touch.
Giles leaned in and Wesley could do nothing but watch the man's face come closer and closer. He stood very still, holding his breath, and yet entirely unsure just what he was hoping for. Giles' hair brush his cheek as the man bit at his earlobe, pulling a gasp from Wesley that made his whole body shudder.
"I thought we might take the night off from research," Giles murmured, his voice dipping into a low register that had Wesley's cock twitching. Giles had to have felt that. Wesley was mortified, but when Giles chuckled that way, so dark and seductive, he found his hips pushing forward once again.
Wesley gasped as Giles' gripped tightened, as Giles ground his own hips forward. His cock pressed against Wesley's hip and Wesley's fingertips twitched this time. He clenched his fists, trying to muster enough mental energy to form a calm, coherent sentence. It was all but impossible with Giles maneuvering him back toward the wall.
"Mr. Giles, I . . . Um, I don't . . . we-we shouldn't, uh . . ." He found the words impossible to speak, even harder when Giles' free hand came up and began tugging his shirt out of his trousers, began pulling at the buttons. Wesley could feel himself relaxing against the older man, his hips moving with the rhythm of Giles' hand against his cock, his head tilting when Giles leaned into bite and kiss his neck. He even felt himself taking steps back as Giles nudged him. Then he felt the wall pressing up hard against his back.
There was a surge of emotion within Wesley so strong he couldn't describe it. Part of him was screaming that he was trapped and the space was small and he should be terrified and the other was wishing Giles would press against him harder, push him tighter against the wall, truly trap him so that he could let go.
"Are you telling me to stop?" Giles asked and his voice was casual, as if he wasn't mounting a full blown assault on Wesley's senses. "Do you want me back away? Stop touching? Stop tasting you?" Giles' hand withdrew from Wesley's cock and Wes whimpered at the loss, found himself pushing forward, reaching out for Giles' hand.
"No, no, please," Wesley found himself saying, heard the words dropping from his lips even if he wouldn't have believed them just moments ago. It felt good, god, so good and he couldn't help but press himself forward, seek out the warmth of Giles' body against him.
Giles' knee pressed between his legs and up, rubbing hard against his tightening balls. "Say it," Giles insisted, pressing hard until the contact was almost painful. "Let me hear you say how much you want this."
Wesley gasped, meeting Giles' eyes and blushing so hard he could feel his skin tingling with it. "I . . ." was all he could get out past the lump in his throat. Giles hands circled his wrists and Wesley's hips bucked forward as if the nerves in one where connected to the other. He groaned when Giles' fingers tightened, pushing his hands up and over his head. Giles held his eyes the entire time, his knee alternately pressing and rubbing.
"I . . ." Wesley bit his lip, shaking his head as he was unable to get the words out.
"Say it, or I stop," Giles said, voice hard. Wesley had no doubt that he'd do it, that he'd leave and Wesley would be left standing there with a hard on and no relief except his blasted hand.
"I-I want this," he finally said, the words choked, but there, said.
"Oh, no, it's not that easy," Giles said, leaning in until his lips were against Wesley's. Wes tried to kiss him, but Giles pulled back, shaking his head. "Tell me how much you want this, Wesley."
Wesley groaned, thrusting hard against Giles' knee. "God, please, I . . . want this. Badly. Want you to . . . want you to--God, Giles, please. I need this."
Giles nodded, changing his grip on Wesley's wrists so that he could hold them both with one hand. "Very good, Wesley. I think you deserve a small reward."
Wesley jerked under Giles' touch as Giles withdrew his knee. Wes whimpered, but had no chance to do anything more before Giles' hand was back, tugging at the button of Wesley's trousers. He felt it give, whimpered as Giles slid down his zip. He almost shouted aloud when Giles' fingers slid inside, lightly brushing over his cock.
Wesley jerked and bucked, desperate for more and unable to control his body's reactions to this man. Giles wrapped his hand around Wes' cock, stroking it slowly.
Giles leaned in close, voice low and deep. "Is that what you want, Wes? Want my hand on you, touching you, stroking you." Giles swept his thumb up and over the head and Wesley gasped, his head tilting back until it bumped into the wall. He pulled against Giles' grip not out of any real need to get his hand free, but more to make sure he was still held tightly.
"Y-yes. God, yes," he finally replied when Giles urged him on with a nip to the corner of his mouth.
Giles pulled away then and Wesley whimpered, his eyes flying opened. "On your knees." Giles' voice was still firm, but not hard. It wasn't quite casual either, but something in the middle that left Wesley feeling disoriented.
"W-what?"
"On your knees," Giles repeated, squeezing Wesley's wrists once before letting go. "If you're good, and do well, then I'll reward you further. If you're not . . . well, you'll have to wait until the children leave tomorrow to try again."
Wesley almost choked on the air he was desperately trying to drag into his lungs. "I . . . I . . ." He had nothing to say to that. There was nothing to say to that. He took one look at Mr. Giles' very stern face and let out his breath, sliding to his knees before the man.
"Good boy," Giles said softly, and Wesley's cock hardened further than Wes had thought possible. He swallowed hard, panting softly and trying to decide where to begin. "Take me out."
Wesley nodded, a bit too quickly perhaps, and reached up to Giles' trousers, carefully pulling down the zip. He reached inside trousers and boxers, his fingers pulling out Giles' rigid shaft. Deciding it was better to dive in than to make Giles wait, Wesley leaned forward, swirling his tongue around the head and then pushing against the foreskin with his lips. He lapped at the underside, reveling in the groan that got from Giles. He closed his lips around it and sucked hard, bobbing his head while sliding his other hand down to squeeze and roll Giles' balls.
"Yes, perfect, Wesley."
Wesley groaned around Giles' cock, moving his free hand to Giles' hip and encouraging him to thrust shallowly. Timing his breaths, Wesley closed his eyes, his head pressed back against the wall as Giles fucked his mouth. His fingers dug into Giles' hip and he groaned again as he felt Giles' balls tightening in his hand.
"God, so good," Giles said, his voice a low murmur. Wesley let his fingers slid back over Giles' balls, rubbing at the spot just behind them. Giles thrust hard into his mouth at that, his cock twitching violently as he came, body going tense and tight.
Wesley moved then, licking and sliding his lips up and down the shaft and milking Giles' orgasm. Giles hands were tight on his shoulders and Wesley pressed up and into them. After a moment, Giles pulled out.
Wesley's lips felt swollen, bruised, but he hardly cared. His cock was aching between his thighs and he found himself still on his knees, looking up at Giles with hopeful eyes.
"Do you want to come, Wesley?" Giles asked him, his hand sliding from Wes' shoulder to cup his face. Giles' thumb brushed out over Wesley slick, swollen lips and Wesley sucked it into his mouth as he nodded. Giles gasped and Wesley reveled in it, in the fact that he was the cause of that sound.
"Stand up," Giles told him as me moved away. Wesley was quick to obey, standing and swallowing hard as he watched Giles stride back to his desk. "Come sit over here," Giles said, indicating the edge of his desk with a nod.
Wesley wasted no time in doing what Giles had said, eager and needy. He sat down, sighing happily as Giles reached into his trousers once again. Giles brushed soft touches over it, and Wesley groaned softly, leaning his head forward against Giles' chest. Giles pulled out Wesley's cock, squeezing hard and Wes whimpered, trying to thrust his hips forward and finding the position gave him fairly little mobility. Giles grinned at him, stroking and Wesley arched into the touch, leaning back on his hands so that he could pressing farther into that lovely grip.
He closed his eyes, listening to the soft sound of Giles' voice telling him incredible things. Beautiful. Good. Perfect. He didn't believe any of it, but hearing it only brought him closer, only made his balls tighten and his body writhe. It seemed like forever passed, Giles stroking him slowly one moment and then quickly the next until Wesley was lying back on the desk, his feet pressing against the edge in order to let him better thrust when Giles stopped all together, but didn't take away his hand.
Sweating, his body straining into the other man's touch, Wesley was close to screaming his frustration when Giles leaned in close to his ear. "Tell me," was all he said, but Wesley knew what he wanted.
"God, please, Giles. Need this so badly. Please, I want to come, god, please." Wesley felt Giles' grip tighten, felt a finger of Giles' free hand press inside him. He groaned, bucking forward and then back again, hard and fast, rocking between the two and so very close.
"God, so beautiful," Giles whispered and Wesley jerked, coming and biting his lip to keep from shout. His entire body arched and strained, tense and taut, as he came all over his tailored suit and Giles' hand.
Title: A Night Off From Research
Author: Lostgirl
Pairing: Giles/Wesley
Rating: NC-17
Summary: PWP. Very. Er, did I mention very?
Spoilers: Er, no.
Warnings: D/s, unbeta'd
Feedback and Concrit adored: lostgirlslair @ yahoo.com
Disclaimer: All things BtVS and AtS belong to Joss Whedon and various corporate entities. I am neither.
Wesley was deep into his research when Buffy finally left the library. He nodded toward her when she said a desultory goodbye, but went right back to his work. Well, back to his work until he heard Giles calling for him from the office.
Unsure what the man wanted now, but prepared to be quite cross if it was about something Buffy should have told him first, Wesley pushed out his chair and stalked into the office. "What is it, Mr. Giles? I really don't have the time . . ."
He stopped just inside the doorway, mouth hanging open for a moment before he could summon the presence of mind to close it. "Mr-Mr. Giles?" The man was leaning up against his desk, his hand cupping a rather obvious erection through his trousers. At first, Wesley couldn't take his eyes off the sight. He heard himself make a small, soft sound before he finally remembered to look Giles in the eyes.
Giles raised an eyebrow at him, so casual Wesley blinked, finding the whole scene not only arousing, but extremely disconcerting. He straightened his posture, swallowing and trying very hard to breathe. "You wanted me?" He asked. It wasn't until Giles chuckled that way, smooth and dark, that Wesley actually heard what he'd said. He blushed a deep red and began stammering, trying to explain that he hadn't meant it that way.
"Well, it's rather too bad you didn't, isn't it?" Giles replied, stepping closer to Wesley, the slightly amused, slightly hard look in the man's eyes doing odd this to Wes' breathing. "As that is rather how I meant it." Giles reached out, his hand brushing down Wesley's chest and catching on one of the buttons.
Wes heard that same small noise again and thought he should back up, or speak up, or do something besides standing there and failing to tell himself he didn't want Giles hand to dip down that way, to cup his hardening cock that way. "Uh, I . . . I," Wesley swallowed hard, his hips betraying him with a quick buck to get more of that delicious touch.
Giles leaned in and Wesley could do nothing but watch the man's face come closer and closer. He stood very still, holding his breath, and yet entirely unsure just what he was hoping for. Giles' hair brush his cheek as the man bit at his earlobe, pulling a gasp from Wesley that made his whole body shudder.
"I thought we might take the night off from research," Giles murmured, his voice dipping into a low register that had Wesley's cock twitching. Giles had to have felt that. Wesley was mortified, but when Giles chuckled that way, so dark and seductive, he found his hips pushing forward once again.
Wesley gasped as Giles' gripped tightened, as Giles ground his own hips forward. His cock pressed against Wesley's hip and Wesley's fingertips twitched this time. He clenched his fists, trying to muster enough mental energy to form a calm, coherent sentence. It was all but impossible with Giles maneuvering him back toward the wall.
"Mr. Giles, I . . . Um, I don't . . . we-we shouldn't, uh . . ." He found the words impossible to speak, even harder when Giles' free hand came up and began tugging his shirt out of his trousers, began pulling at the buttons. Wesley could feel himself relaxing against the older man, his hips moving with the rhythm of Giles' hand against his cock, his head tilting when Giles leaned into bite and kiss his neck. He even felt himself taking steps back as Giles nudged him. Then he felt the wall pressing up hard against his back.
There was a surge of emotion within Wesley so strong he couldn't describe it. Part of him was screaming that he was trapped and the space was small and he should be terrified and the other was wishing Giles would press against him harder, push him tighter against the wall, truly trap him so that he could let go.
"Are you telling me to stop?" Giles asked and his voice was casual, as if he wasn't mounting a full blown assault on Wesley's senses. "Do you want me back away? Stop touching? Stop tasting you?" Giles' hand withdrew from Wesley's cock and Wes whimpered at the loss, found himself pushing forward, reaching out for Giles' hand.
"No, no, please," Wesley found himself saying, heard the words dropping from his lips even if he wouldn't have believed them just moments ago. It felt good, god, so good and he couldn't help but press himself forward, seek out the warmth of Giles' body against him.
Giles' knee pressed between his legs and up, rubbing hard against his tightening balls. "Say it," Giles insisted, pressing hard until the contact was almost painful. "Let me hear you say how much you want this."
Wesley gasped, meeting Giles' eyes and blushing so hard he could feel his skin tingling with it. "I . . ." was all he could get out past the lump in his throat. Giles hands circled his wrists and Wesley's hips bucked forward as if the nerves in one where connected to the other. He groaned when Giles' fingers tightened, pushing his hands up and over his head. Giles held his eyes the entire time, his knee alternately pressing and rubbing.
"I . . ." Wesley bit his lip, shaking his head as he was unable to get the words out.
"Say it, or I stop," Giles said, voice hard. Wesley had no doubt that he'd do it, that he'd leave and Wesley would be left standing there with a hard on and no relief except his blasted hand.
"I-I want this," he finally said, the words choked, but there, said.
"Oh, no, it's not that easy," Giles said, leaning in until his lips were against Wesley's. Wes tried to kiss him, but Giles pulled back, shaking his head. "Tell me how much you want this, Wesley."
Wesley groaned, thrusting hard against Giles' knee. "God, please, I . . . want this. Badly. Want you to . . . want you to--God, Giles, please. I need this."
Giles nodded, changing his grip on Wesley's wrists so that he could hold them both with one hand. "Very good, Wesley. I think you deserve a small reward."
Wesley jerked under Giles' touch as Giles withdrew his knee. Wes whimpered, but had no chance to do anything more before Giles' hand was back, tugging at the button of Wesley's trousers. He felt it give, whimpered as Giles slid down his zip. He almost shouted aloud when Giles' fingers slid inside, lightly brushing over his cock.
Wesley jerked and bucked, desperate for more and unable to control his body's reactions to this man. Giles wrapped his hand around Wes' cock, stroking it slowly.
Giles leaned in close, voice low and deep. "Is that what you want, Wes? Want my hand on you, touching you, stroking you." Giles swept his thumb up and over the head and Wesley gasped, his head tilting back until it bumped into the wall. He pulled against Giles' grip not out of any real need to get his hand free, but more to make sure he was still held tightly.
"Y-yes. God, yes," he finally replied when Giles urged him on with a nip to the corner of his mouth.
Giles pulled away then and Wesley whimpered, his eyes flying opened. "On your knees." Giles' voice was still firm, but not hard. It wasn't quite casual either, but something in the middle that left Wesley feeling disoriented.
"W-what?"
"On your knees," Giles repeated, squeezing Wesley's wrists once before letting go. "If you're good, and do well, then I'll reward you further. If you're not . . . well, you'll have to wait until the children leave tomorrow to try again."
Wesley almost choked on the air he was desperately trying to drag into his lungs. "I . . . I . . ." He had nothing to say to that. There was nothing to say to that. He took one look at Mr. Giles' very stern face and let out his breath, sliding to his knees before the man.
"Good boy," Giles said softly, and Wesley's cock hardened further than Wes had thought possible. He swallowed hard, panting softly and trying to decide where to begin. "Take me out."
Wesley nodded, a bit too quickly perhaps, and reached up to Giles' trousers, carefully pulling down the zip. He reached inside trousers and boxers, his fingers pulling out Giles' rigid shaft. Deciding it was better to dive in than to make Giles wait, Wesley leaned forward, swirling his tongue around the head and then pushing against the foreskin with his lips. He lapped at the underside, reveling in the groan that got from Giles. He closed his lips around it and sucked hard, bobbing his head while sliding his other hand down to squeeze and roll Giles' balls.
"Yes, perfect, Wesley."
Wesley groaned around Giles' cock, moving his free hand to Giles' hip and encouraging him to thrust shallowly. Timing his breaths, Wesley closed his eyes, his head pressed back against the wall as Giles fucked his mouth. His fingers dug into Giles' hip and he groaned again as he felt Giles' balls tightening in his hand.
"God, so good," Giles said, his voice a low murmur. Wesley let his fingers slid back over Giles' balls, rubbing at the spot just behind them. Giles thrust hard into his mouth at that, his cock twitching violently as he came, body going tense and tight.
Wesley moved then, licking and sliding his lips up and down the shaft and milking Giles' orgasm. Giles hands were tight on his shoulders and Wesley pressed up and into them. After a moment, Giles pulled out.
Wesley's lips felt swollen, bruised, but he hardly cared. His cock was aching between his thighs and he found himself still on his knees, looking up at Giles with hopeful eyes.
"Do you want to come, Wesley?" Giles asked him, his hand sliding from Wes' shoulder to cup his face. Giles' thumb brushed out over Wesley slick, swollen lips and Wesley sucked it into his mouth as he nodded. Giles gasped and Wesley reveled in it, in the fact that he was the cause of that sound.
"Stand up," Giles told him as me moved away. Wesley was quick to obey, standing and swallowing hard as he watched Giles stride back to his desk. "Come sit over here," Giles said, indicating the edge of his desk with a nod.
Wesley wasted no time in doing what Giles had said, eager and needy. He sat down, sighing happily as Giles reached into his trousers once again. Giles brushed soft touches over it, and Wesley groaned softly, leaning his head forward against Giles' chest. Giles pulled out Wesley's cock, squeezing hard and Wes whimpered, trying to thrust his hips forward and finding the position gave him fairly little mobility. Giles grinned at him, stroking and Wesley arched into the touch, leaning back on his hands so that he could pressing farther into that lovely grip.
He closed his eyes, listening to the soft sound of Giles' voice telling him incredible things. Beautiful. Good. Perfect. He didn't believe any of it, but hearing it only brought him closer, only made his balls tighten and his body writhe. It seemed like forever passed, Giles stroking him slowly one moment and then quickly the next until Wesley was lying back on the desk, his feet pressing against the edge in order to let him better thrust when Giles stopped all together, but didn't take away his hand.
Sweating, his body straining into the other man's touch, Wesley was close to screaming his frustration when Giles leaned in close to his ear. "Tell me," was all he said, but Wesley knew what he wanted.
"God, please, Giles. Need this so badly. Please, I want to come, god, please." Wesley felt Giles' grip tighten, felt a finger of Giles' free hand press inside him. He groaned, bucking forward and then back again, hard and fast, rocking between the two and so very close.
"God, so beautiful," Giles whispered and Wesley jerked, coming and biting his lip to keep from shout. His entire body arched and strained, tense and taut, as he came all over his tailored suit and Giles' hand.