Naming Things - Giles/Wesley
Title: Naming Things
Author: Lostgirl
Pairing: Giles/Wesley
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Two people get what they need.
Spoilers: Set between season six and seven of BtVS and season three and four of AtS.
Warnings: D/s, Bondage
Feedback and Concrit adored: lostgirlslair @ yahoo.com
Disclaimer: All things BtVS and AtS belong to Joss Whedon and various corporate entities. I am neither.
Inspired by this post by phendog and written for the Watcher Love Ficathon (master list here), for cheesygirl, who wanted tea, bed sheets, and sex. Erm, I'm not sure it's exactly what you wanted, sweetie, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Big, huge thanks to taffimai for the beta magic!
Everything had to be perfect. Wesley knew he was obsessing, but it helped to ease his nerves and so he let himself recheck that everything was in place. It wasn't that he'd never done this sort of thing before, but it had been a while and he wanted it to go well, wanted something to go well. Things had felt rather out of control lately, which was why this was the perfect solution. Not to the problems themselves, but to his own badly askew equilibrium.
Wesley glanced around his hotel suite, one final check to make certain he hadn't forgotten anything. The knock at the door was expected and made Wesley feel suddenly calmer than he had in a while. God, he needed this and this was the perfect time. In London there was no one to interrupt, to pull him away and leave him unsatisfied. He might as well take the chance while he had it.
He strode over to the door, making certain his face was blank as he pulled it open. Had Wesley not been keeping such a tight rein on his reactions his jaw might have dropped at the sight of Rupert Giles standing in his hallway. Giles must have had just as tight a rein, because there was only a slight quirking of one eyebrow to indicate his surprise at finding himself face to face with a leather-trouser clad Wesley.
"Well?" Wesley said, for once not even flinching at the hoarse sound of his own voice. He was too busy keeping it from giving away his surprise. "What are you waiting for?"
Giles merely ducked his head and walked past Wesley, into the flat, without a word. For his own part, Wesley could hardly believe his luck. Rupert Giles, his for the night. He'd fantasized about this. He'd thought the voice over the phone had been a bit familiar, but people answering the kind of ad Wesley had placed often mumbled. Giles, apparently, was no exception.
"Put your coat in that closet and join me in the bedroom." Waiting only long enough to see Giles nod, Wesley went to the bedroom and took a moment to revel in the incredibly delicious workings of the Fates. Rupert Giles answering his ad for a submissive was . . . bloody brilliant as far as he was concerned.
He heard Giles' footfalls coming into the bedroom, but he ignored Giles long enough to pour himself a whiskey. He turned after a long sip to find Giles standing patiently in the middle of room, his arms clasped lightly behind his back and his eyes cast toward the floor. There was, however, a stubborn set to his jaw and Wesley had to wonder what Giles thought of this turn of events. Not that it mattered overly much. Giles was clearly willing to continue and Wesley wouldn't have given up the chance for . . . well, almost anything. Setting his glass down, Wesley paced a circle around Giles, letting his eyes roam and very much liking what he saw.
"To begin with, let me tell you my rules," Wesley said as casually as his gravel voice would allow. He stopped in front of Giles, letting his hand reach out to brush along Giles' stubborn jaw, then down along his chest. "For the space of this encounter, we don't know one another and, afterwards, this never happened." Wesley tweaked one of Giles' nipples, causing the man to pull in a hissing breath. "You will do as I tell you, nothing more and nothing less. You will not come until I've told you to." Wesley scratched lightly along Giles' stomach, the muscles jumping under his fingernails, though no reaction showed on Giles' face. "You may make any sounds you like, in fact, I encourage it. You will refer to me as 'sir'. Is that clear?"
"Yes . . . sir," Giles' voice was soft, husky. The sound alone made Wesley's cock begin to harden. He wasn’t the only one. Giles, dressed in casual trousers and a boring button-down shirt, was clearly feeling something for their encounter. Wesley didn't allow himself to grin as he ran his hand down Giles' stomach and cupped the burgeoning erection, as a reward.
"Very good." He let the warmth of praise slip into his voice and watched in fascination as Giles flushed. Whether it was in embarrassment or pleasure Wesley wasn't certain, but he planned to find out. He squeezed Giles' hardening cock, none too gently and got a very soft groan in response.
"Strip. Slowly." Wesley slid his hand from Giles' cock, picking up his glass of whiskey and lounging back on the bed. "You can put your clothes on that chair."
He kept his eyes on Giles, half-expecting him to be awkward and ungainly when stripping. Wesley was pleasantly surprised to find out he was quite wrong. Giles wasn't graceful, exactly. It wasn't something that could really be called grace. More it was that Giles seemed so comfortable in his own skin, so sure of his own attractiveness and the way his body moved. Wesley sucked in a small, silent breath, unable to tear his eyes away as Giles unbuttoned his shirt and laid it over the back of the chair.
Wesley was fairly certain Giles turned on purpose then, as he bent to push down his trousers, giving Wesley quite a view of his arse. Cheeky bugger, Wesley thought with a quickly concealed grin.
After laying his trousers over the chair as well, Giles turned toward him once again and Wesley let his eyes sweep Giles' body. He kept the examination slow, eyes moving from Giles' broad shoulders, down his chest with its erect nipples, down his stomach with its lovely thatch of hair, over that gorgeously erect cock and on to solid thighs.
Wesley let Giles stand there as he considered how to proceed. Giles's body was tense and tight, his demeanor submissive, but that was just a mask, Wesley was almost certain, a sign of his willingness to let Wesley dominate him, if Wesley could do it. It was almost a challenge, actually.
Perfect. Making Giles wait a little longer, Wesley took a sip of his whiskey and then set it aside and slowly stood.
"Turn around." Giles did so without a word, making no motion to cover his body. Wesley licked his lips and let his eyes skim over a well-shaped back and even more well-shaped arse. "On the dresser over there are several cockrings, choose one and bring it here."
"Yes, sir." That same husky tone, soft and submissive on the surface, but far too controlled, too intentional. Giles did as Wesley had told him, taking his time examining the selection Wesley had laid out. Giles finally chose one and when he turned to bring it to Wesley his chest was as flushed as his cock.
Lovely, Wesley thought, but didn't say. Instead, he took the cockring from Giles and had to suppress another grin.
"Interesting choice," Wesley said softly as his hands moved down Giles' body once again. He brushed his fingers along Giles' cock, his own prick hardening at the stifled moan that pulled from Giles. The man began to pant when Wesley's fingers slipped the cockring over his shaft and then around his balls. "Tell me why you chose it."
"It's comfortable," Giles said in that lovely voice. "Not so specialized as the others. Good for whatever you wish to do, sir."
Wesley didn't comment, instead rubbing his fingers briefly over the head of Giles' cock to show that he was pleased. "On your knees."
Giles slid to his knees so wonderfully Wesley couldn't help but smile. Especially when Giles once again clasped his arms behind his back, waiting. Wesley's cock twitched at the sight and he took a few steps back to better appreciate it. Rupert Giles on his knees, cock hard and flushed, arms behind his back, ready and waiting on Wesley's pleasure.
God, he was going to come at the first touch of that lovely mouth if he didn't give himself a little time to calm down. Wesley sat on the bed, close enough to touch Giles if he reached out. Picking up his glass, Wesley took a sip of whiskey and let his eyes and mind wander. He took some pleasure just in making Giles wait, wondering how long Giles could keep from squirming. In fact, it all crystallized with that one thought. How long could Giles keep this up? No squirming, no reactions other than stifled sounds. Wesley wanted more. He wanted to see the man truly stripped down to nothing but want and instinct. He wanted Rupert Giles to beg to be allowed to come. It was going to take work. The thought alone was enough to make Wesley's cock twitch.
"You've been well trained," Wesley commented, briefly wanting to know how, by whom, and how long ago. He knew he'd never ask, however. Even if it wasn’t Giles, he wouldn't have pried. In fact, the temptation was only there because it was Giles. Instead of asking, Wesley leaned back and sipped his whiskey before continuing. "Touch yourself. Slowly."
Giles complied at once, one hand coming forward to wrap around that lovely shaft, moving with long, slow strokes. The sight didn't help to calm Wesley at all. It did, however, provide some entertainment as he thought. Giles was going through the motions, but there was a distance to him. Wesley wasn't going to let that remain. He wanted to see past the surface, as lovely as it was. Swallowing the last of his whiskey, Wesley rose to his feet and went to stand before Giles.
"Take me out." He watched down the length of his own body as Rupert Giles' hands began to unzip his leather trousers; as Giles reached in and pulled out his cock. The way the man's fingers lingered on his erection didn't go unnoticed. Wesley might have let it slide, though, had Giles not flicked his eyes up so surreptitiously, had he not thrown in a small squeeze.
Wesley reacted quickly. His hand darting out and grabbing the hair above the nape of Giles' neck, tilting the man's head back until Wesley could meet his eyes. "Did I tell you to do that?"
"No, sir," Giles gasped out. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed and Wesley considered him for a long moment. Giles was testing him, testing to see if Wesley would let him get away with anything, and if so, how much.
"I thought I made myself clear, earlier," Wesley said, his tone conveying his disappointment. "Obviously, you weren't listening closely enough. Repeat my rules back to me . . . in Latin." Wesley tightened his grip on Giles' hair, waiting patiently as Giles gasped out the rules Wesley had given him earlier.
Giles said them all perfectly, the Latin flowing easily from his lips. Of course, where was the fun in admitting that?
"Sloppy, but it will do," Wesley said, letting go of Giles' hair. "I do hope your lips and tongue are more agile when they're working my cock." The small gasp that pulled from Giles had Wesley's prick throbbing. "Show me," he said, pressing Giles head forward.
Giles' mouth was hot and wet and eager. Wesley had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning at the feel as Giles' lips slid around and over the head, as his tongue flickered along the shaft. Wesley's hand clenched hard in Giles' hair.
"That's it. God, yes, just like that." Wesley's eyes fluttered shut. He knew he wouldn't be able to take it for long, not the way Giles buried his nose in his pubic hair, not the way Giles was groaning happily around his shaft. Wesley let his free hand slip to Giles' face, stroking along the man's jaw as Giles began to suck and bob his head, that marvelous tongue still pressing against the underside of Wesley's cock.
"Hold still." Proud of the steadiness of his voice, Wesley pushed forward in Giles' mouth, shallowly fucking it and holding Giles' head in place. He was careful not to press too deeply inside, but was not in any way beyond that gentle. Though short, his thrusts were hard and his grip on Giles' hair was tight. Giles was groaning around his cock, the sound and vibration so sweet Wesley was actually tempted to keep going, to ride out this lovely pleasure until he came between swollen lips and could watch Giles swallow.
He didn't want it to end that quickly, though. Not like this. He'd barely even set to work just yet. Beyond that, Wesley wanted to revel in having Giles this way, in Giles being completely his even if it was only for a night.
A small groan slipped from Wesley's lips as he pulled out. He was panting, but hardly alone in that as Giles was pulling in great gulps of air, his hands pressed to the carpet before him before he gathered himself and clasped them behind his back once again.
Wesley let his eyes slip down to Giles' cock and smiled at the sight of precum making the head glisten. Raising his eyebrow at Giles, Wesley managed to force his limbs to look casual as he sat back on the bed. He let his eyes linger over every part of Giles' body. Giles wore an expression that was far too serene to be genuine, especially when the man's cock was flushed red and hard as granite.
Wesley smiled and thought it might look fairly evil. Stretching out his foot, he brushed his toes lightly against Giles' cock. Giles gasped, his body jerking just slightly forward and that serene mask dropped away for an instant. An instant in which Wesley saw something he never thought he'd see; want and lust, both pure and hard and gleaming out of Rupert Giles' eyes. Wesley's smile might have become a smirk then, even as the mask snapped back into place and Giles met his eyes, almost challengingly.
"I see," Wesley said softly, smoothing the smirk from his face. Standing, Wesley went to his bureau and opened the top drawer. He let his fingers run over each of the things he'd bought just a few days ago, in preparation. He hadn't been quite sure what exactly he'd need and, truthfully, he'd been thinking he might have gone a bit overboard. Of course, that was before he knew who exactly he'd be playing with.
He took out only the handcuffs for the moment, leaving the rest for later. Why let Giles know what he was in for? He turned to Giles, not at all surprised to find Giles gazing straight ahead. Peeking would reveal that he was interested. As if the fact that his cock was standing nearly flat against his belly wasn't enough to let Wesley know.
Moving behind Giles, Wesley knelt down and took one wrist into his hand, letting his thumb rub along the sensitive flesh before he dragged the cold metal of one cuff over it. Giles shivered and Wesley grinned, snapping the cuff closed loosely and then finishing the job with the other wrist. "You seem to like this position. On your knees, your hands behind your back. It's sham, though, isn't it?"
"I don't know what you mean, sir." Giles' voice was that same soft tone; another affectation, another trapping that Wesley planned to tear away. He wanted to hear Giles hoarse and shouting.
"Oh, but you do. It's a pretense, a veneer of submission that you don't actually feel." Wesley waited for Giles' response, tightening the cuffs the longer he had to wait. Click. Click. Click. One tooth at a time until they were pushing into Giles' flesh deeply enough that it had to be painful. Finally, the man spoke, his voice no longer soft and submissive.
"Why should I?" Was all he said, but it was enough, it was a start. Wesley stood, burying his fingers in Giles' hair and pulling the man's head back hard. He smiled down into Giles' face.
"Don't worry," he said, "I'll give you plenty of reasons." Wesley didn't take the slight sneer on Giles' face personally. It wasn't personal at all and he understood that. Were anyone standing over Giles like this, that sneer would be present. It was a defense and it was going to make this fun.
With Giles' head still pulled back at an almost painful angle, Wesley leaned down and kissed him, hard. Giles responded at once, his lips parting with all the eagerness he couldn't let himself show. His cock, his mouth, neither of them had any reservations. Wesley bit at Giles' lips and reveled in the small sound it pulled from Giles' throat. He pulled back then and pushed forward. Giles' balance was badly off and he toppled forward easily.
Giles had to support himself on his knees, his forehead pressing against the edge of the bed. He could have righted himself, had Wesley not kept a hand on his shoulder, pushing him forward. "Stay that way," Wesley said before lifting his hand and examining Giles' body.
In this position, Giles' back was pulled taut, his arse easily accessible. It was perfect for what Wesley had in mind. He went to the bureau and found the lube as well as another recent purchase and went to kneel behind Giles once again.
"Lift up," Wesley said, patting Giles' arse. There was a pause, but Giles did as he'd been told, pushing into what couldn't be a terribly comfortable position. Not with those handcuffs so tight around his wrists and holding his arms behind his back. Wesley began slicking two of his fingers as he admired the sight before him.
"You know, I think you might just need this as much as I do." Wesley slid his slick fingers along the crease of Giles' arse. Giles gasped, though Wesley couldn't say whether it was the sensation or the chill of the lube that did it. "Quite a feat, really." Dipping his fingers inside the crease, Wesley found Giles' entrance and circled it slowly.
"All that control. You cling to it. Dignity can be so very wearying." Wesley slipped one finger inside, teasing. Giles made a small sound he tried to muffling in the bed sheets. "Of course, who were you going to go to in order to relieve the tension?" Wesley pressed another finger inside, the tightness he found making his own cock twitch in anticipation as he worked his fingers in and out. "In Sunnydale? I doubt there was anyone capable of--"
"Are you going to talk, or fuck me?" Giles said on a groan, pushing his arse back hard on Wesley's fingers.
"Oh, I don't think you've shown yourself deserving of that just yet, do you?" Wesley stilled his movements, laying a hand on Giles' back to keep him from thrusting back. "Especially when you've forgotten my rules again. Tell them to me." Giles' body was shaking slightly. He began to repeat the rules in Latin, but Wesley quickly cut him off. "In German."
The words came, but more slowly this time, Giles having a much harder time concentrating on the translation with Wesley's finger motionless inside him. Over the second rule, Wesley began to move again, preparing Giles with slow strokes of his fingers. Giles faltered, but picked up his place quickly enough. Then Wesley pushed his fingers forward, rubbing against Giles' prostate. Giles shuddered hard, an unguarded groan pouring from his throat.
He seemed to lose all track of what he'd been saying. Giles panted, the sound loud in the silence. "Continue. Falter again and you'll have to start over."
Giles made another small sound, but quickly picked up his recitation, stumbling through it to the end. Wesley allowed himself a smile, his own cock twitching hard at the sight Giles made, panting and tense from holding himself still. Withdrawing his fingers slowly, Wesley reveled in the sounds the action pulled from Giles, the gasp and the long, disappointed moan that followed it.
It wasn't enough, though. Wesley wanted Giles to beg and Giles was quite a way from that. For the moment. "Very good," Wesley said as he lubed up the butt plug he'd taken from the bureau. "Still a bit sloppy, but I suppose I can forgive that, under the circumstances."
Giles gasped when he felt the plug against his entrance and Wesley went even more slowly, circling the end of it around Giles' entrance, teasing him until another moan filled the room. Wesley pushed it in slowly, his eyes fixed on Giles' back as the man arched at the feel of it, the handcuffs clinking slightly as Giles' arms were pushed together. He watched the muscles bunch, a thin layer of sweat beginning to form. Wesley could only imagine Giles' struggles, trying not to push back, to simply take what Wesley was willing to give him and keep himself from crying out for more.
"So controlled," Wesley said, pausing, the butt plug only half inserted. Wesley reached up with his free hand to scratch lightly down Giles' arse and then to brush his fingers over Giles' balls. Giles made a small sound in the back of his throat, needy and frustrated. "All you have to do is ask me, nicely, and I'll give you more. Can you do that?"
Giles made that sound again, pressing just slightly backward. Wesley let his free hand rub gentle over Giles' flank, both calming and keeping Giles from pressing hard enough to get what he wanted.
"Ask me. I want to hear you say it," he said, pressing the butt plug slightly harder, adding to the pressure of it inside Giles' channel without actually pushing it any farther.
Giles groaned, his body trembling, but he said nothing. Wesley waited for a moment that seemed to draw on and last forever before shaking his head and withdrawing the plug. Giles moaned again, that disappointed sound that almost made Wesley want to take it back, to give Giles just what he wanted and draw more of those lovely sounds from him. Almost.
"Clearly, I should stop," Wesley put in, once again circling the plug around Giles' entrance. "You're not willing to obey me, so you can't want it all that much. Especially when I'm making it so easy for you . . . all you have to do is ask."
"God, Wesley, don't stop!" Giles said and Wesley reacted immediately, his hand coming down on Giles' arse in a stinging slap. Giles bucked, as if his body was unsure whether it wanted to move closer or away from the pain. He gasped, the sound almost as sharp as that of Wesley's hand against his flesh.
"What was that?" Wesley asked, forcing his voice to be calm when, in truth, he was a bit shaken. He hadn't planned that, hadn't intended to do that. It was something about hearing his name in an encounter that was supposed to be anonymous. It tugged at things deep inside him, reminding him that this wasn't some nameless person before him, but Giles. Giles, who knew him. Granted, in a limited capacity, but knew him nonetheless. Who knew where he worked . . . had worked. Who knew many of the same people, who could . . . Wesley stopped that train of thought, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat.
He would not break his own control. He would not allow Giles to break his control. He clung to the numbness that dulled all of this, all that had come before this. He wanted this, this muted pleasure, but he wasn't going to let it become more. He couldn't afford to feel too deeply now, not for anything.
"Sir. I'm sorry," Giles said between pants, sounding as if he truly meant it. Wesley stared at the pale red mark that had begun to show on Giles' arse. Without really meaning to, his fingers brushed over the area, tracing the vague outline of it.
"Sorry? Are you?" Wesley watched his fingers caressing the skin of Giles' arse. The pink already fading. Soon it would be completely gone. Wesley couldn't seem to look away. "How many times have you broken my rules tonight?"
"I-I don't know, sir." Whether it was because of the plug still pressed against his entrance, or the way Wesley was touching him, Giles was clearly having trouble pulling his thoughts together. A good sign, that.
"Recount each instance," Wesley said. His fingers traced the line of Giles' crease even as Wesley pushed the plug into place with one swift motion. Giles gave a shuddering moaned, his body pushing back against Wesley's hands.
"Uh, I . . . I," Giles shook his head and Wesley heard him take a deep breath, as if trying to pull himself together. Wesley smiled as he let his fingers slip down to brush against Giles' balls again, completely shattering whatever composure the man had managed to gather. It took a few more deep breaths before Giles started to speak. "I did more than you asked, sir, and--"
Wesley raised his hand and brought it down against Giles' arse, the sound of it filling the hotel room. Giles bucked again, though this time his body seemed more certain of what it wanted, pressing back into Wesley's palm as it lingered against him.
"What else?"
"I . . . f-failed to call you sir, twice . . . sir," Giles said panted out and received two sharp smacks. Wesley was purposely hitting the same spot, purposefully letting the pain build there, and watching the pinkish skin darken with every slap. His fingers traced the edges of the mark, not as gentle as before, making Giles feel it. Giles was pressing his arse back, trying to get more, though Wesley made sure the pressure of his touch remained constant.
"So, do you feel you deserve to be fucked?" Wesley forced his eyes away from his fingers and the way they made the pinkish skin livid when they ran across it. He looked up and leaned to the side to get a glimpse of Giles' face.
"Whatever you like, sir," Giles answered, his voice husky, but lacking in the controlled softness Wesley had earlier heard. He was panting hard, his chest and face more flushed than his arse. Wesley skimmed his fingers over Giles' flank and then around. He gripped the man's cock, loving the way it felt in his hand as he gave it one quick stroke to show that he was pleased. Giles' hips pushed forward as the man pressed his mouth to the bed and moaned, but Wesley's hand was already gone and the moan held a faintly desperate edge.
"Get onto the bed," Wesley ordered before standing and going to sit against the headboard. Giles straightened, so that he was on his knees and then moved to get to his feet. He raised an eyebrow when Wesley shook his head. "Stay on your knees, but get on the bed." Giles glanced from Wesley to the bed again. "You can do it," Wesley said, smiling. "It won't be terribly dignified, but you can manage."
He'd expected a glare, something to show that Giles wasn't happy with what Wesley was asking. Instead, Giles bowed his head and nodded. Eyebrows raised, Wesley watched as Giles climbed awkwardly onto the bed before kneeling at the foot.
"Very good. Come here." Wesley's cock was throbbing now. He watched Giles slowly work his way forward, using every bit of his body since his hands were cuffed. Giles groaned and panted as he moved. Not only did Wes know just what it felt like to move like that with a butt plug in place, but he could see on Giles' face every time the thing rubbed against his prostate. Giles would shudder slightly, making that soft sound Wesley was coming to enjoy so much.
Wesley highly suspected that Giles was rather enjoying the way his cock scraped against the bed sheets as he did what Wesley had asked. He wound up kneeling between Wesley's spread legs. His eyes were downcast, but focused on Wesley's cock, hard and clearly outlined by Wesley's leather trousers.
Wesley moved to a kneeling position as well, pressing his body along Giles'. He ground his cock forward and his own moan was an echo of Giles'. The feel of that hard cock pressing against him sent jolts of white hot arousal along Wesley's nerves, making his balls tingle with the need to keep grinding and thrusting until they'd both reached climax.
Giles' hips worked against his as well, jerking forward awkwardly. Wesley bit gently at Giles' shoulder and the man threw his head back, moaning.
"You see," Wesley said, his lips still against Giles' sweat-slicked skin. "When you're a good boy, you're rewarded."
That drew a whimper from Giles, an honest-to-god whimper. Wesley actually laughed with the joy of pulling that sound from Giles. While Giles didn't seem at all surprised by that, Wesley most certainly was. He was slipping, but he couldn't seem to make himself stop. It felt good, so damn good, to let the wall crumble a little, to let the numbness go for just a bit and take real pleasure in the feel of Giles against him, in the knowledge that he was the reason for the erection Giles was sporting. Not some nameless stranger, but him.
Wesley honestly doubted another person would have understood Giles' reticence, if they even noticed it, and they certainly wouldn't have known how to break it down. He reveled in that thought, in the idea that he was doing this and that others couldn't. It heightened everything, heightened the taste of salt and warmth of Giles' skin, heightened the moans that filled the room as he moved around behind Giles. Even the disappointed tone of Giles' voice was heightened and Wesley was riding that high.
"Lean forward," he ordered and Giles did it at once, pressing his forehead to the bed sheets. Wesley reached up to Giles' wrists, his fingers playing over the cuffs, feeling the contrast of metal and skin, both warm now. Giles' body was slick with sweat and Wesley glided his fingers through it, letting himself explore the stretch of muscles and tendons before he pulled the key from his pocket and undid the left handcuff. "Put your hands on the headboard."
"Yes, sir," Giles panted out, stretching his arms above his head and gripping the headboard. Wesley chose to lean forward over Giles to refasten the cuffs. The position pressed his cock hard against Giles' arse, against the plug he'd not yet removed. Giles gave a shuddering moan and Wesley thrust his hips forward, laying his chest along Giles' back and finally getting the cuffs in place before snapping the open one around Giles' wrist again. He pulled back and Giles tried to follow, pulling hard on the cuffs when he reached their limit.
"Keep that up," Wesley said as he dragged his fingernails down Giles' back and arse, "And you're going to have some rather spectacular bruises tomorrow." As he said it, Wesley slipped one hand lower to fondle Giles' balls. The man bucked hard, groaning.
"Please," he said, causing Wesley to pause and look up, as if he'd be able to meet Giles' eyes instead of the back of his head. "Please, sir. Need." The words were panted, desperate and Wesley thought he'd never heard anything so beautiful.
"Please what?" Wesley continued what he'd been doing, rolling Giles' balls between his fingers, squeezing gently and then rolling them again. They were tight and firm and Wesley could tell by their feel just how much Giles wanted to come, just how close he was. In fact, despite the cockring, it was likely taking a good amount of Giles' control just to keep himself from climaxing.
Apparently, it took a long moment before Giles could speak again. "Touch me, sir. God, please. Need to come. So hard not to."
Wesley slid his fingers away from Giles' balls. The whimper that action pulled from Giles had Wesley's cock throbbing, becoming harder than Wesley had actually thought possible.
"Then I should probably leave you to calm down a little bit, shouldn't I?"
Giles groaned. "If-if you wish," came the response, though Wesley could hear the desperation in Giles' voice, could hear the want and need that poured through his own body echoed in just those words.
"Good. Very good," Wesley replied, sliding his fingers along Giles slick crease until he reached the butt plug. He tugged on it, pulling it from Giles' channel and groaning softly at the sounds Giles made. The man's body trembled before him. Wesley was, in fact, fairly certain that he could have made Giles come right then, just few touches and the man would spill, permission or no.
Instead, Wesley moved off the bed, watching as Giles sucked in deep breath after deep breath, gulping in air as if he'd been drowning. Wesley couldn't help but reach out, brush his fingers through Giles' damp hair. The man raised his head, meeting Wesley's eyes. He looked . . . Wesley, for once in his life, had no word to describe it. The authority Giles carried around like a mantle was gone, but its absence didn't seem like weakness. There was still strength in those features. Giles' lips were parted as he panted, his damp hair laying against his forehead in lanky clumps. His eyes were half closed, his hips moving against nothing as he searched for some kind of friction for his aching cock.
Wesley's fingers moved of their own volition, tracing the lines of Giles' face. Giles leaned his face into the touch, the action tugging at Wesley's gut, filling him with want, replacing the purely physical with something more. God, he wanted this man.
"Giles," he said softly, the word slipping out of his mouth before he could think to stop it. He'd not used names all night, they weren't supposed to know one another, they were supposed to be nameless and--Giles kissed his fingers. Wesley felt the numbness die away inside him.
He moaned softly, his thumb brushing along Giles' lips. He stood, transfixed, as Giles took his thumb into his mouth and began to suck on it, groaning around it. Wesley's cock pulsed at the sight, his balls tightening at the thought of that lovely mouth and how it had felt on his erection.
This wasn't doing a thing to calm either of them down. Wesley wasn't certain he actually cared. Wesley's free hand moved up Giles' arm, running over his shoulder and back and tracing the lines there. His fingers found their way to Giles' arse and Wesley slid them along the crease, closing his eyes as Giles gave a muffled moan. Wesley pulled his thumb from between Giles' lips, scraping his thumbnail along Giles' back and arse as he once again took up a kneeling position behind Giles.
Giles pushed back hard. Wesley smiled, even as he slapped lightly at Giles' flank. "So very eager. Did I tell you to do that?"
"No, sir," Giles said on a groan, clearly knowing, by now, what was coming.
"Recount my rules back to me, then. In Greek."
Giles made a small sound, but didn't hesitate, launching into a stumbling, stuttering recounting. Wesley used the time to strip out of his trousers and hastily slick his cock. He teased Giles' entrance with the head of his prick, and Giles' recitation came to a stuttering halt until he pulled himself together and forged ahead. It took far longer this time. Giles kept faltering, his voice trailing off on a groan as Wesley pushed slowly inside him. Giles picked up his recitation quickly, stumbling to the end so fast that Wesley wouldn't have been able to make out the words had he not already known them.
"Very good," Wesley panted, ceasing his slow entrance and burying his cock inside Giles with one hard stroke. Their groans echoed one another, filling the hotel room for a moment before their voices were replaced with harsh pants and the sound of flesh against flesh. Wesley set a hard rhythm, his fingers digging into Giles' hips as he thrust deep. "God, so good."
Giles groaned, pushing back into each of Wesley's thrusts, the handcuffs clattering against the headboard onto which Giles clung. The man's knuckles were white with the force of his grip.
"Harder," Giles panted. "God, sir, please, harder."
Wesley moaned as the words and Giles' husky tone combining to tighten his aching balls. He wasn't going to last long, but that didn't matter. They were both far too close to the edge as it was and instead of making it last, Wesley was intent on making sure they'd both feel it tomorrow.
He pounded into Giles, feeling his orgasm beginning to build in the pit of stomach, his balls drawing up tighter with every thrust. "Feels so good. So tight."
Giles groaned once again, his body shaking under Wesley's hands. "So close," Giles said, his tone a plea in and of itself. "Need to . . . God, need to come, sir, please," he gasped out.
"Not until I say," Wesley found the breath to reply, his finger digging tighter into Giles' hip. Giles whimpered and it was that sound that started Wesley sliding into orgasm. It was a desperate, eager sound that reached inside him and pulled at something that had been wound tight for far too long. Wesley's balls tightened hard, orgasm slamming through him on a wave of pleasure so intense it might as well have been pain. He curled in on himself, his mouth brushing Giles' back as he pumped his release into Giles' channel.
"Come for me now," he managed to croak out, one hand slipping around to tug on Giles' cock. Giles came in a rush, his channel clenching tight around Wesley and his hips bucking forward into Wesley's hand.
For a moment, the hotel room seemed completely still, only the sound of their harsh breathing keeping it from being silent as well. Wesley felt frozen in place as his muscles tightened and then relaxed. He slumped down and to the side, his softening cock slipping free of Giles. Giles slumped as well, his arms still extended over his head.
Through the haze, Wesley reached up and unlocked the cuffs, chuckling as Giles collapsed onto his side, his back pressing against Wesley's chest. Wesley raised a hand to brush lazily through Giles' hair, soothing as they both fought to get their breath back.
Wesley let his eyes close, enjoying the languid feel of his body and the steady, pleasant throb of afterglow. His fingers tangled in Giles' hair, the motion calming him as well as Giles. Had things gone as he'd first expected, before he'd known that it was Giles that would be showing up on his doorstep, Wesley would have been offering his partner tea and a quick snack before hurrying him out the door. Oddly, he had no urge to prod Giles from the bed. He laid there and enjoyed the feel of release.
He wasn't sure how much time had past when Giles finally stirred lazily against him. "I should go," Giles said, though he made no motion to get up and dress.
"You don't have to," Wesley found himself saying.
"What will you require for letting me stay tonight?" Giles asked and Wesley could practically hear the smile he was sure was on Giles' face. "Sir."
"Hmmm. You'll suck me off in the shower tomorrow, we'll call it even and you can be on your merry way," Wesley said with a grin, his fingers moving down Giles' neck and over his shoulder to explore the man's chest.
"How could I resist a deal so obviously stacked in my favor?" Giles murmured, pushing lightly back against Wesley's body.
"My thought exactly," Wesley replied before letting the quiet slip over them. His hand stayed on Giles' body, moving possessively over the man's warm skin and savoring the feel of it. His. Strictly speaking, their encounter was over, but Giles didn't seem in any hurry to change things between them and Wesley certainly wasn't. He'd enjoyed this far too much, let himself enjoy this far too much, to want it to be over any quicker than it had to be.
Tomorrow morning he'd get this again, for a little while, before Giles went back to his business and Wesley was left to gather the pieces of his life once again. Still, he had a while before he had to face it, the mess his actions had made of things. Everyone needed an oasis in the desert, after all.
"Thank you," Giles' voice brought Wesley's mind back to the present.
"It's no trouble," Wesley said, pressing a kiss to the back of Giles' shoulder. "Bed's more than big enough for two."
"That isn't what I meant . . . sir," Giles answered, his voice husky and quiet in a lazy, thoroughly sated way. Wesley couldn't help but smile at the sound of it, not to mention the words.
Finally, he tweaked Giles' nipple hard. "Go to sleep."
"Yes, sir."
Author: Lostgirl
Pairing: Giles/Wesley
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Two people get what they need.
Spoilers: Set between season six and seven of BtVS and season three and four of AtS.
Warnings: D/s, Bondage
Feedback and Concrit adored: lostgirlslair @ yahoo.com
Disclaimer: All things BtVS and AtS belong to Joss Whedon and various corporate entities. I am neither.
Inspired by this post by phendog and written for the Watcher Love Ficathon (master list here), for cheesygirl, who wanted tea, bed sheets, and sex. Erm, I'm not sure it's exactly what you wanted, sweetie, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Big, huge thanks to taffimai for the beta magic!
Everything had to be perfect. Wesley knew he was obsessing, but it helped to ease his nerves and so he let himself recheck that everything was in place. It wasn't that he'd never done this sort of thing before, but it had been a while and he wanted it to go well, wanted something to go well. Things had felt rather out of control lately, which was why this was the perfect solution. Not to the problems themselves, but to his own badly askew equilibrium.
Wesley glanced around his hotel suite, one final check to make certain he hadn't forgotten anything. The knock at the door was expected and made Wesley feel suddenly calmer than he had in a while. God, he needed this and this was the perfect time. In London there was no one to interrupt, to pull him away and leave him unsatisfied. He might as well take the chance while he had it.
He strode over to the door, making certain his face was blank as he pulled it open. Had Wesley not been keeping such a tight rein on his reactions his jaw might have dropped at the sight of Rupert Giles standing in his hallway. Giles must have had just as tight a rein, because there was only a slight quirking of one eyebrow to indicate his surprise at finding himself face to face with a leather-trouser clad Wesley.
"Well?" Wesley said, for once not even flinching at the hoarse sound of his own voice. He was too busy keeping it from giving away his surprise. "What are you waiting for?"
Giles merely ducked his head and walked past Wesley, into the flat, without a word. For his own part, Wesley could hardly believe his luck. Rupert Giles, his for the night. He'd fantasized about this. He'd thought the voice over the phone had been a bit familiar, but people answering the kind of ad Wesley had placed often mumbled. Giles, apparently, was no exception.
"Put your coat in that closet and join me in the bedroom." Waiting only long enough to see Giles nod, Wesley went to the bedroom and took a moment to revel in the incredibly delicious workings of the Fates. Rupert Giles answering his ad for a submissive was . . . bloody brilliant as far as he was concerned.
He heard Giles' footfalls coming into the bedroom, but he ignored Giles long enough to pour himself a whiskey. He turned after a long sip to find Giles standing patiently in the middle of room, his arms clasped lightly behind his back and his eyes cast toward the floor. There was, however, a stubborn set to his jaw and Wesley had to wonder what Giles thought of this turn of events. Not that it mattered overly much. Giles was clearly willing to continue and Wesley wouldn't have given up the chance for . . . well, almost anything. Setting his glass down, Wesley paced a circle around Giles, letting his eyes roam and very much liking what he saw.
"To begin with, let me tell you my rules," Wesley said as casually as his gravel voice would allow. He stopped in front of Giles, letting his hand reach out to brush along Giles' stubborn jaw, then down along his chest. "For the space of this encounter, we don't know one another and, afterwards, this never happened." Wesley tweaked one of Giles' nipples, causing the man to pull in a hissing breath. "You will do as I tell you, nothing more and nothing less. You will not come until I've told you to." Wesley scratched lightly along Giles' stomach, the muscles jumping under his fingernails, though no reaction showed on Giles' face. "You may make any sounds you like, in fact, I encourage it. You will refer to me as 'sir'. Is that clear?"
"Yes . . . sir," Giles' voice was soft, husky. The sound alone made Wesley's cock begin to harden. He wasn’t the only one. Giles, dressed in casual trousers and a boring button-down shirt, was clearly feeling something for their encounter. Wesley didn't allow himself to grin as he ran his hand down Giles' stomach and cupped the burgeoning erection, as a reward.
"Very good." He let the warmth of praise slip into his voice and watched in fascination as Giles flushed. Whether it was in embarrassment or pleasure Wesley wasn't certain, but he planned to find out. He squeezed Giles' hardening cock, none too gently and got a very soft groan in response.
"Strip. Slowly." Wesley slid his hand from Giles' cock, picking up his glass of whiskey and lounging back on the bed. "You can put your clothes on that chair."
He kept his eyes on Giles, half-expecting him to be awkward and ungainly when stripping. Wesley was pleasantly surprised to find out he was quite wrong. Giles wasn't graceful, exactly. It wasn't something that could really be called grace. More it was that Giles seemed so comfortable in his own skin, so sure of his own attractiveness and the way his body moved. Wesley sucked in a small, silent breath, unable to tear his eyes away as Giles unbuttoned his shirt and laid it over the back of the chair.
Wesley was fairly certain Giles turned on purpose then, as he bent to push down his trousers, giving Wesley quite a view of his arse. Cheeky bugger, Wesley thought with a quickly concealed grin.
After laying his trousers over the chair as well, Giles turned toward him once again and Wesley let his eyes sweep Giles' body. He kept the examination slow, eyes moving from Giles' broad shoulders, down his chest with its erect nipples, down his stomach with its lovely thatch of hair, over that gorgeously erect cock and on to solid thighs.
Wesley let Giles stand there as he considered how to proceed. Giles's body was tense and tight, his demeanor submissive, but that was just a mask, Wesley was almost certain, a sign of his willingness to let Wesley dominate him, if Wesley could do it. It was almost a challenge, actually.
Perfect. Making Giles wait a little longer, Wesley took a sip of his whiskey and then set it aside and slowly stood.
"Turn around." Giles did so without a word, making no motion to cover his body. Wesley licked his lips and let his eyes skim over a well-shaped back and even more well-shaped arse. "On the dresser over there are several cockrings, choose one and bring it here."
"Yes, sir." That same husky tone, soft and submissive on the surface, but far too controlled, too intentional. Giles did as Wesley had told him, taking his time examining the selection Wesley had laid out. Giles finally chose one and when he turned to bring it to Wesley his chest was as flushed as his cock.
Lovely, Wesley thought, but didn't say. Instead, he took the cockring from Giles and had to suppress another grin.
"Interesting choice," Wesley said softly as his hands moved down Giles' body once again. He brushed his fingers along Giles' cock, his own prick hardening at the stifled moan that pulled from Giles. The man began to pant when Wesley's fingers slipped the cockring over his shaft and then around his balls. "Tell me why you chose it."
"It's comfortable," Giles said in that lovely voice. "Not so specialized as the others. Good for whatever you wish to do, sir."
Wesley didn't comment, instead rubbing his fingers briefly over the head of Giles' cock to show that he was pleased. "On your knees."
Giles slid to his knees so wonderfully Wesley couldn't help but smile. Especially when Giles once again clasped his arms behind his back, waiting. Wesley's cock twitched at the sight and he took a few steps back to better appreciate it. Rupert Giles on his knees, cock hard and flushed, arms behind his back, ready and waiting on Wesley's pleasure.
God, he was going to come at the first touch of that lovely mouth if he didn't give himself a little time to calm down. Wesley sat on the bed, close enough to touch Giles if he reached out. Picking up his glass, Wesley took a sip of whiskey and let his eyes and mind wander. He took some pleasure just in making Giles wait, wondering how long Giles could keep from squirming. In fact, it all crystallized with that one thought. How long could Giles keep this up? No squirming, no reactions other than stifled sounds. Wesley wanted more. He wanted to see the man truly stripped down to nothing but want and instinct. He wanted Rupert Giles to beg to be allowed to come. It was going to take work. The thought alone was enough to make Wesley's cock twitch.
"You've been well trained," Wesley commented, briefly wanting to know how, by whom, and how long ago. He knew he'd never ask, however. Even if it wasn’t Giles, he wouldn't have pried. In fact, the temptation was only there because it was Giles. Instead of asking, Wesley leaned back and sipped his whiskey before continuing. "Touch yourself. Slowly."
Giles complied at once, one hand coming forward to wrap around that lovely shaft, moving with long, slow strokes. The sight didn't help to calm Wesley at all. It did, however, provide some entertainment as he thought. Giles was going through the motions, but there was a distance to him. Wesley wasn't going to let that remain. He wanted to see past the surface, as lovely as it was. Swallowing the last of his whiskey, Wesley rose to his feet and went to stand before Giles.
"Take me out." He watched down the length of his own body as Rupert Giles' hands began to unzip his leather trousers; as Giles reached in and pulled out his cock. The way the man's fingers lingered on his erection didn't go unnoticed. Wesley might have let it slide, though, had Giles not flicked his eyes up so surreptitiously, had he not thrown in a small squeeze.
Wesley reacted quickly. His hand darting out and grabbing the hair above the nape of Giles' neck, tilting the man's head back until Wesley could meet his eyes. "Did I tell you to do that?"
"No, sir," Giles gasped out. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed and Wesley considered him for a long moment. Giles was testing him, testing to see if Wesley would let him get away with anything, and if so, how much.
"I thought I made myself clear, earlier," Wesley said, his tone conveying his disappointment. "Obviously, you weren't listening closely enough. Repeat my rules back to me . . . in Latin." Wesley tightened his grip on Giles' hair, waiting patiently as Giles gasped out the rules Wesley had given him earlier.
Giles said them all perfectly, the Latin flowing easily from his lips. Of course, where was the fun in admitting that?
"Sloppy, but it will do," Wesley said, letting go of Giles' hair. "I do hope your lips and tongue are more agile when they're working my cock." The small gasp that pulled from Giles had Wesley's prick throbbing. "Show me," he said, pressing Giles head forward.
Giles' mouth was hot and wet and eager. Wesley had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning at the feel as Giles' lips slid around and over the head, as his tongue flickered along the shaft. Wesley's hand clenched hard in Giles' hair.
"That's it. God, yes, just like that." Wesley's eyes fluttered shut. He knew he wouldn't be able to take it for long, not the way Giles buried his nose in his pubic hair, not the way Giles was groaning happily around his shaft. Wesley let his free hand slip to Giles' face, stroking along the man's jaw as Giles began to suck and bob his head, that marvelous tongue still pressing against the underside of Wesley's cock.
"Hold still." Proud of the steadiness of his voice, Wesley pushed forward in Giles' mouth, shallowly fucking it and holding Giles' head in place. He was careful not to press too deeply inside, but was not in any way beyond that gentle. Though short, his thrusts were hard and his grip on Giles' hair was tight. Giles was groaning around his cock, the sound and vibration so sweet Wesley was actually tempted to keep going, to ride out this lovely pleasure until he came between swollen lips and could watch Giles swallow.
He didn't want it to end that quickly, though. Not like this. He'd barely even set to work just yet. Beyond that, Wesley wanted to revel in having Giles this way, in Giles being completely his even if it was only for a night.
A small groan slipped from Wesley's lips as he pulled out. He was panting, but hardly alone in that as Giles was pulling in great gulps of air, his hands pressed to the carpet before him before he gathered himself and clasped them behind his back once again.
Wesley let his eyes slip down to Giles' cock and smiled at the sight of precum making the head glisten. Raising his eyebrow at Giles, Wesley managed to force his limbs to look casual as he sat back on the bed. He let his eyes linger over every part of Giles' body. Giles wore an expression that was far too serene to be genuine, especially when the man's cock was flushed red and hard as granite.
Wesley smiled and thought it might look fairly evil. Stretching out his foot, he brushed his toes lightly against Giles' cock. Giles gasped, his body jerking just slightly forward and that serene mask dropped away for an instant. An instant in which Wesley saw something he never thought he'd see; want and lust, both pure and hard and gleaming out of Rupert Giles' eyes. Wesley's smile might have become a smirk then, even as the mask snapped back into place and Giles met his eyes, almost challengingly.
"I see," Wesley said softly, smoothing the smirk from his face. Standing, Wesley went to his bureau and opened the top drawer. He let his fingers run over each of the things he'd bought just a few days ago, in preparation. He hadn't been quite sure what exactly he'd need and, truthfully, he'd been thinking he might have gone a bit overboard. Of course, that was before he knew who exactly he'd be playing with.
He took out only the handcuffs for the moment, leaving the rest for later. Why let Giles know what he was in for? He turned to Giles, not at all surprised to find Giles gazing straight ahead. Peeking would reveal that he was interested. As if the fact that his cock was standing nearly flat against his belly wasn't enough to let Wesley know.
Moving behind Giles, Wesley knelt down and took one wrist into his hand, letting his thumb rub along the sensitive flesh before he dragged the cold metal of one cuff over it. Giles shivered and Wesley grinned, snapping the cuff closed loosely and then finishing the job with the other wrist. "You seem to like this position. On your knees, your hands behind your back. It's sham, though, isn't it?"
"I don't know what you mean, sir." Giles' voice was that same soft tone; another affectation, another trapping that Wesley planned to tear away. He wanted to hear Giles hoarse and shouting.
"Oh, but you do. It's a pretense, a veneer of submission that you don't actually feel." Wesley waited for Giles' response, tightening the cuffs the longer he had to wait. Click. Click. Click. One tooth at a time until they were pushing into Giles' flesh deeply enough that it had to be painful. Finally, the man spoke, his voice no longer soft and submissive.
"Why should I?" Was all he said, but it was enough, it was a start. Wesley stood, burying his fingers in Giles' hair and pulling the man's head back hard. He smiled down into Giles' face.
"Don't worry," he said, "I'll give you plenty of reasons." Wesley didn't take the slight sneer on Giles' face personally. It wasn't personal at all and he understood that. Were anyone standing over Giles like this, that sneer would be present. It was a defense and it was going to make this fun.
With Giles' head still pulled back at an almost painful angle, Wesley leaned down and kissed him, hard. Giles responded at once, his lips parting with all the eagerness he couldn't let himself show. His cock, his mouth, neither of them had any reservations. Wesley bit at Giles' lips and reveled in the small sound it pulled from Giles' throat. He pulled back then and pushed forward. Giles' balance was badly off and he toppled forward easily.
Giles had to support himself on his knees, his forehead pressing against the edge of the bed. He could have righted himself, had Wesley not kept a hand on his shoulder, pushing him forward. "Stay that way," Wesley said before lifting his hand and examining Giles' body.
In this position, Giles' back was pulled taut, his arse easily accessible. It was perfect for what Wesley had in mind. He went to the bureau and found the lube as well as another recent purchase and went to kneel behind Giles once again.
"Lift up," Wesley said, patting Giles' arse. There was a pause, but Giles did as he'd been told, pushing into what couldn't be a terribly comfortable position. Not with those handcuffs so tight around his wrists and holding his arms behind his back. Wesley began slicking two of his fingers as he admired the sight before him.
"You know, I think you might just need this as much as I do." Wesley slid his slick fingers along the crease of Giles' arse. Giles gasped, though Wesley couldn't say whether it was the sensation or the chill of the lube that did it. "Quite a feat, really." Dipping his fingers inside the crease, Wesley found Giles' entrance and circled it slowly.
"All that control. You cling to it. Dignity can be so very wearying." Wesley slipped one finger inside, teasing. Giles made a small sound he tried to muffling in the bed sheets. "Of course, who were you going to go to in order to relieve the tension?" Wesley pressed another finger inside, the tightness he found making his own cock twitch in anticipation as he worked his fingers in and out. "In Sunnydale? I doubt there was anyone capable of--"
"Are you going to talk, or fuck me?" Giles said on a groan, pushing his arse back hard on Wesley's fingers.
"Oh, I don't think you've shown yourself deserving of that just yet, do you?" Wesley stilled his movements, laying a hand on Giles' back to keep him from thrusting back. "Especially when you've forgotten my rules again. Tell them to me." Giles' body was shaking slightly. He began to repeat the rules in Latin, but Wesley quickly cut him off. "In German."
The words came, but more slowly this time, Giles having a much harder time concentrating on the translation with Wesley's finger motionless inside him. Over the second rule, Wesley began to move again, preparing Giles with slow strokes of his fingers. Giles faltered, but picked up his place quickly enough. Then Wesley pushed his fingers forward, rubbing against Giles' prostate. Giles shuddered hard, an unguarded groan pouring from his throat.
He seemed to lose all track of what he'd been saying. Giles panted, the sound loud in the silence. "Continue. Falter again and you'll have to start over."
Giles made another small sound, but quickly picked up his recitation, stumbling through it to the end. Wesley allowed himself a smile, his own cock twitching hard at the sight Giles made, panting and tense from holding himself still. Withdrawing his fingers slowly, Wesley reveled in the sounds the action pulled from Giles, the gasp and the long, disappointed moan that followed it.
It wasn't enough, though. Wesley wanted Giles to beg and Giles was quite a way from that. For the moment. "Very good," Wesley said as he lubed up the butt plug he'd taken from the bureau. "Still a bit sloppy, but I suppose I can forgive that, under the circumstances."
Giles gasped when he felt the plug against his entrance and Wesley went even more slowly, circling the end of it around Giles' entrance, teasing him until another moan filled the room. Wesley pushed it in slowly, his eyes fixed on Giles' back as the man arched at the feel of it, the handcuffs clinking slightly as Giles' arms were pushed together. He watched the muscles bunch, a thin layer of sweat beginning to form. Wesley could only imagine Giles' struggles, trying not to push back, to simply take what Wesley was willing to give him and keep himself from crying out for more.
"So controlled," Wesley said, pausing, the butt plug only half inserted. Wesley reached up with his free hand to scratch lightly down Giles' arse and then to brush his fingers over Giles' balls. Giles made a small sound in the back of his throat, needy and frustrated. "All you have to do is ask me, nicely, and I'll give you more. Can you do that?"
Giles made that sound again, pressing just slightly backward. Wesley let his free hand rub gentle over Giles' flank, both calming and keeping Giles from pressing hard enough to get what he wanted.
"Ask me. I want to hear you say it," he said, pressing the butt plug slightly harder, adding to the pressure of it inside Giles' channel without actually pushing it any farther.
Giles groaned, his body trembling, but he said nothing. Wesley waited for a moment that seemed to draw on and last forever before shaking his head and withdrawing the plug. Giles moaned again, that disappointed sound that almost made Wesley want to take it back, to give Giles just what he wanted and draw more of those lovely sounds from him. Almost.
"Clearly, I should stop," Wesley put in, once again circling the plug around Giles' entrance. "You're not willing to obey me, so you can't want it all that much. Especially when I'm making it so easy for you . . . all you have to do is ask."
"God, Wesley, don't stop!" Giles said and Wesley reacted immediately, his hand coming down on Giles' arse in a stinging slap. Giles bucked, as if his body was unsure whether it wanted to move closer or away from the pain. He gasped, the sound almost as sharp as that of Wesley's hand against his flesh.
"What was that?" Wesley asked, forcing his voice to be calm when, in truth, he was a bit shaken. He hadn't planned that, hadn't intended to do that. It was something about hearing his name in an encounter that was supposed to be anonymous. It tugged at things deep inside him, reminding him that this wasn't some nameless person before him, but Giles. Giles, who knew him. Granted, in a limited capacity, but knew him nonetheless. Who knew where he worked . . . had worked. Who knew many of the same people, who could . . . Wesley stopped that train of thought, swallowing hard around the lump in his throat.
He would not break his own control. He would not allow Giles to break his control. He clung to the numbness that dulled all of this, all that had come before this. He wanted this, this muted pleasure, but he wasn't going to let it become more. He couldn't afford to feel too deeply now, not for anything.
"Sir. I'm sorry," Giles said between pants, sounding as if he truly meant it. Wesley stared at the pale red mark that had begun to show on Giles' arse. Without really meaning to, his fingers brushed over the area, tracing the vague outline of it.
"Sorry? Are you?" Wesley watched his fingers caressing the skin of Giles' arse. The pink already fading. Soon it would be completely gone. Wesley couldn't seem to look away. "How many times have you broken my rules tonight?"
"I-I don't know, sir." Whether it was because of the plug still pressed against his entrance, or the way Wesley was touching him, Giles was clearly having trouble pulling his thoughts together. A good sign, that.
"Recount each instance," Wesley said. His fingers traced the line of Giles' crease even as Wesley pushed the plug into place with one swift motion. Giles gave a shuddering moaned, his body pushing back against Wesley's hands.
"Uh, I . . . I," Giles shook his head and Wesley heard him take a deep breath, as if trying to pull himself together. Wesley smiled as he let his fingers slip down to brush against Giles' balls again, completely shattering whatever composure the man had managed to gather. It took a few more deep breaths before Giles started to speak. "I did more than you asked, sir, and--"
Wesley raised his hand and brought it down against Giles' arse, the sound of it filling the hotel room. Giles bucked again, though this time his body seemed more certain of what it wanted, pressing back into Wesley's palm as it lingered against him.
"What else?"
"I . . . f-failed to call you sir, twice . . . sir," Giles said panted out and received two sharp smacks. Wesley was purposely hitting the same spot, purposefully letting the pain build there, and watching the pinkish skin darken with every slap. His fingers traced the edges of the mark, not as gentle as before, making Giles feel it. Giles was pressing his arse back, trying to get more, though Wesley made sure the pressure of his touch remained constant.
"So, do you feel you deserve to be fucked?" Wesley forced his eyes away from his fingers and the way they made the pinkish skin livid when they ran across it. He looked up and leaned to the side to get a glimpse of Giles' face.
"Whatever you like, sir," Giles answered, his voice husky, but lacking in the controlled softness Wesley had earlier heard. He was panting hard, his chest and face more flushed than his arse. Wesley skimmed his fingers over Giles' flank and then around. He gripped the man's cock, loving the way it felt in his hand as he gave it one quick stroke to show that he was pleased. Giles' hips pushed forward as the man pressed his mouth to the bed and moaned, but Wesley's hand was already gone and the moan held a faintly desperate edge.
"Get onto the bed," Wesley ordered before standing and going to sit against the headboard. Giles straightened, so that he was on his knees and then moved to get to his feet. He raised an eyebrow when Wesley shook his head. "Stay on your knees, but get on the bed." Giles glanced from Wesley to the bed again. "You can do it," Wesley said, smiling. "It won't be terribly dignified, but you can manage."
He'd expected a glare, something to show that Giles wasn't happy with what Wesley was asking. Instead, Giles bowed his head and nodded. Eyebrows raised, Wesley watched as Giles climbed awkwardly onto the bed before kneeling at the foot.
"Very good. Come here." Wesley's cock was throbbing now. He watched Giles slowly work his way forward, using every bit of his body since his hands were cuffed. Giles groaned and panted as he moved. Not only did Wes know just what it felt like to move like that with a butt plug in place, but he could see on Giles' face every time the thing rubbed against his prostate. Giles would shudder slightly, making that soft sound Wesley was coming to enjoy so much.
Wesley highly suspected that Giles was rather enjoying the way his cock scraped against the bed sheets as he did what Wesley had asked. He wound up kneeling between Wesley's spread legs. His eyes were downcast, but focused on Wesley's cock, hard and clearly outlined by Wesley's leather trousers.
Wesley moved to a kneeling position as well, pressing his body along Giles'. He ground his cock forward and his own moan was an echo of Giles'. The feel of that hard cock pressing against him sent jolts of white hot arousal along Wesley's nerves, making his balls tingle with the need to keep grinding and thrusting until they'd both reached climax.
Giles' hips worked against his as well, jerking forward awkwardly. Wesley bit gently at Giles' shoulder and the man threw his head back, moaning.
"You see," Wesley said, his lips still against Giles' sweat-slicked skin. "When you're a good boy, you're rewarded."
That drew a whimper from Giles, an honest-to-god whimper. Wesley actually laughed with the joy of pulling that sound from Giles. While Giles didn't seem at all surprised by that, Wesley most certainly was. He was slipping, but he couldn't seem to make himself stop. It felt good, so damn good, to let the wall crumble a little, to let the numbness go for just a bit and take real pleasure in the feel of Giles against him, in the knowledge that he was the reason for the erection Giles was sporting. Not some nameless stranger, but him.
Wesley honestly doubted another person would have understood Giles' reticence, if they even noticed it, and they certainly wouldn't have known how to break it down. He reveled in that thought, in the idea that he was doing this and that others couldn't. It heightened everything, heightened the taste of salt and warmth of Giles' skin, heightened the moans that filled the room as he moved around behind Giles. Even the disappointed tone of Giles' voice was heightened and Wesley was riding that high.
"Lean forward," he ordered and Giles did it at once, pressing his forehead to the bed sheets. Wesley reached up to Giles' wrists, his fingers playing over the cuffs, feeling the contrast of metal and skin, both warm now. Giles' body was slick with sweat and Wesley glided his fingers through it, letting himself explore the stretch of muscles and tendons before he pulled the key from his pocket and undid the left handcuff. "Put your hands on the headboard."
"Yes, sir," Giles panted out, stretching his arms above his head and gripping the headboard. Wesley chose to lean forward over Giles to refasten the cuffs. The position pressed his cock hard against Giles' arse, against the plug he'd not yet removed. Giles gave a shuddering moan and Wesley thrust his hips forward, laying his chest along Giles' back and finally getting the cuffs in place before snapping the open one around Giles' wrist again. He pulled back and Giles tried to follow, pulling hard on the cuffs when he reached their limit.
"Keep that up," Wesley said as he dragged his fingernails down Giles' back and arse, "And you're going to have some rather spectacular bruises tomorrow." As he said it, Wesley slipped one hand lower to fondle Giles' balls. The man bucked hard, groaning.
"Please," he said, causing Wesley to pause and look up, as if he'd be able to meet Giles' eyes instead of the back of his head. "Please, sir. Need." The words were panted, desperate and Wesley thought he'd never heard anything so beautiful.
"Please what?" Wesley continued what he'd been doing, rolling Giles' balls between his fingers, squeezing gently and then rolling them again. They were tight and firm and Wesley could tell by their feel just how much Giles wanted to come, just how close he was. In fact, despite the cockring, it was likely taking a good amount of Giles' control just to keep himself from climaxing.
Apparently, it took a long moment before Giles could speak again. "Touch me, sir. God, please. Need to come. So hard not to."
Wesley slid his fingers away from Giles' balls. The whimper that action pulled from Giles had Wesley's cock throbbing, becoming harder than Wesley had actually thought possible.
"Then I should probably leave you to calm down a little bit, shouldn't I?"
Giles groaned. "If-if you wish," came the response, though Wesley could hear the desperation in Giles' voice, could hear the want and need that poured through his own body echoed in just those words.
"Good. Very good," Wesley replied, sliding his fingers along Giles slick crease until he reached the butt plug. He tugged on it, pulling it from Giles' channel and groaning softly at the sounds Giles made. The man's body trembled before him. Wesley was, in fact, fairly certain that he could have made Giles come right then, just few touches and the man would spill, permission or no.
Instead, Wesley moved off the bed, watching as Giles sucked in deep breath after deep breath, gulping in air as if he'd been drowning. Wesley couldn't help but reach out, brush his fingers through Giles' damp hair. The man raised his head, meeting Wesley's eyes. He looked . . . Wesley, for once in his life, had no word to describe it. The authority Giles carried around like a mantle was gone, but its absence didn't seem like weakness. There was still strength in those features. Giles' lips were parted as he panted, his damp hair laying against his forehead in lanky clumps. His eyes were half closed, his hips moving against nothing as he searched for some kind of friction for his aching cock.
Wesley's fingers moved of their own volition, tracing the lines of Giles' face. Giles leaned his face into the touch, the action tugging at Wesley's gut, filling him with want, replacing the purely physical with something more. God, he wanted this man.
"Giles," he said softly, the word slipping out of his mouth before he could think to stop it. He'd not used names all night, they weren't supposed to know one another, they were supposed to be nameless and--Giles kissed his fingers. Wesley felt the numbness die away inside him.
He moaned softly, his thumb brushing along Giles' lips. He stood, transfixed, as Giles took his thumb into his mouth and began to suck on it, groaning around it. Wesley's cock pulsed at the sight, his balls tightening at the thought of that lovely mouth and how it had felt on his erection.
This wasn't doing a thing to calm either of them down. Wesley wasn't certain he actually cared. Wesley's free hand moved up Giles' arm, running over his shoulder and back and tracing the lines there. His fingers found their way to Giles' arse and Wesley slid them along the crease, closing his eyes as Giles gave a muffled moan. Wesley pulled his thumb from between Giles' lips, scraping his thumbnail along Giles' back and arse as he once again took up a kneeling position behind Giles.
Giles pushed back hard. Wesley smiled, even as he slapped lightly at Giles' flank. "So very eager. Did I tell you to do that?"
"No, sir," Giles said on a groan, clearly knowing, by now, what was coming.
"Recount my rules back to me, then. In Greek."
Giles made a small sound, but didn't hesitate, launching into a stumbling, stuttering recounting. Wesley used the time to strip out of his trousers and hastily slick his cock. He teased Giles' entrance with the head of his prick, and Giles' recitation came to a stuttering halt until he pulled himself together and forged ahead. It took far longer this time. Giles kept faltering, his voice trailing off on a groan as Wesley pushed slowly inside him. Giles picked up his recitation quickly, stumbling to the end so fast that Wesley wouldn't have been able to make out the words had he not already known them.
"Very good," Wesley panted, ceasing his slow entrance and burying his cock inside Giles with one hard stroke. Their groans echoed one another, filling the hotel room for a moment before their voices were replaced with harsh pants and the sound of flesh against flesh. Wesley set a hard rhythm, his fingers digging into Giles' hips as he thrust deep. "God, so good."
Giles groaned, pushing back into each of Wesley's thrusts, the handcuffs clattering against the headboard onto which Giles clung. The man's knuckles were white with the force of his grip.
"Harder," Giles panted. "God, sir, please, harder."
Wesley moaned as the words and Giles' husky tone combining to tighten his aching balls. He wasn't going to last long, but that didn't matter. They were both far too close to the edge as it was and instead of making it last, Wesley was intent on making sure they'd both feel it tomorrow.
He pounded into Giles, feeling his orgasm beginning to build in the pit of stomach, his balls drawing up tighter with every thrust. "Feels so good. So tight."
Giles groaned once again, his body shaking under Wesley's hands. "So close," Giles said, his tone a plea in and of itself. "Need to . . . God, need to come, sir, please," he gasped out.
"Not until I say," Wesley found the breath to reply, his finger digging tighter into Giles' hip. Giles whimpered and it was that sound that started Wesley sliding into orgasm. It was a desperate, eager sound that reached inside him and pulled at something that had been wound tight for far too long. Wesley's balls tightened hard, orgasm slamming through him on a wave of pleasure so intense it might as well have been pain. He curled in on himself, his mouth brushing Giles' back as he pumped his release into Giles' channel.
"Come for me now," he managed to croak out, one hand slipping around to tug on Giles' cock. Giles came in a rush, his channel clenching tight around Wesley and his hips bucking forward into Wesley's hand.
For a moment, the hotel room seemed completely still, only the sound of their harsh breathing keeping it from being silent as well. Wesley felt frozen in place as his muscles tightened and then relaxed. He slumped down and to the side, his softening cock slipping free of Giles. Giles slumped as well, his arms still extended over his head.
Through the haze, Wesley reached up and unlocked the cuffs, chuckling as Giles collapsed onto his side, his back pressing against Wesley's chest. Wesley raised a hand to brush lazily through Giles' hair, soothing as they both fought to get their breath back.
Wesley let his eyes close, enjoying the languid feel of his body and the steady, pleasant throb of afterglow. His fingers tangled in Giles' hair, the motion calming him as well as Giles. Had things gone as he'd first expected, before he'd known that it was Giles that would be showing up on his doorstep, Wesley would have been offering his partner tea and a quick snack before hurrying him out the door. Oddly, he had no urge to prod Giles from the bed. He laid there and enjoyed the feel of release.
He wasn't sure how much time had past when Giles finally stirred lazily against him. "I should go," Giles said, though he made no motion to get up and dress.
"You don't have to," Wesley found himself saying.
"What will you require for letting me stay tonight?" Giles asked and Wesley could practically hear the smile he was sure was on Giles' face. "Sir."
"Hmmm. You'll suck me off in the shower tomorrow, we'll call it even and you can be on your merry way," Wesley said with a grin, his fingers moving down Giles' neck and over his shoulder to explore the man's chest.
"How could I resist a deal so obviously stacked in my favor?" Giles murmured, pushing lightly back against Wesley's body.
"My thought exactly," Wesley replied before letting the quiet slip over them. His hand stayed on Giles' body, moving possessively over the man's warm skin and savoring the feel of it. His. Strictly speaking, their encounter was over, but Giles didn't seem in any hurry to change things between them and Wesley certainly wasn't. He'd enjoyed this far too much, let himself enjoy this far too much, to want it to be over any quicker than it had to be.
Tomorrow morning he'd get this again, for a little while, before Giles went back to his business and Wesley was left to gather the pieces of his life once again. Still, he had a while before he had to face it, the mess his actions had made of things. Everyone needed an oasis in the desert, after all.
"Thank you," Giles' voice brought Wesley's mind back to the present.
"It's no trouble," Wesley said, pressing a kiss to the back of Giles' shoulder. "Bed's more than big enough for two."
"That isn't what I meant . . . sir," Giles answered, his voice husky and quiet in a lazy, thoroughly sated way. Wesley couldn't help but smile at the sound of it, not to mention the words.
Finally, he tweaked Giles' nipple hard. "Go to sleep."
"Yes, sir."