'Sick of Shadows' Final Chapter. Giles/Wesley by Jane Davitt and Wesleysgirl

[janedavitt]

Here is Chapter Eight, the last one, of this fic, written with wesleysgirl.

Previous chapters are here:
Sick of Shadows

Thanks again to flaming_muse for being such a wonderful beta and to everyone who's given such supportive feedback ::many hugs::

And many thanks to wesleysgirl for, once again, making a co-writing project nothing but fun to do ::smooches::




Sick of Shadows by Jane Davitt and Wesleysgirl

Chapter Eight

Knowing that he was trembling and that there were myriad reasons, Wesley was grateful when Giles leaned in to meet him for their first proper kiss. Giles' hand was warm on his arm, and his mouth tasted like a memory of a dream, familiar and yet new at the same time.

The kiss was deeper than the one Wesley had given Giles but still held a hint of reserve as though Giles was – oh God, was he comparing it to – and he must have been, because he broke it and murmured, with his lips close enough that Wesley could feel them move, "It's different, Wesley. It's better; this is better, you're – "

Then Giles' arm slipped around his shoulders and his mouth was demanding a response Wesley was only too glad to give him.

He didn't care that his face ached or that there was a spot on his chest that felt burnt where the pendant had seared him – all that mattered was Giles' lips, Giles' tongue stroking gently against his own. Wesley put his own arm around Giles' waist and held him as they continued to kiss.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing more heavily. Wesley brought his hand up to Giles' face, feeling startlingly close to tears. "Can we... do you think we could..." He didn't want to ask in case the answer was no, but he so wanted to go to bed and have Giles hold him, even if that was all they did.

"We can do anything you want to, Wesley," Giles said, turning his head so that his mouth brushed against Wesley's palm in a lingering kiss. "At least, if it involves moving away from this table." He stood up and drew Wesley with him, wrapping one arm around his shoulders, and kissing him again, bringing his injured hand up to stroke Wesley's cheek gently. "Can we carry on doing this, but in comfort? Which is a subtle way of asking if we can go and lie down, because to be honest, you look as if you're about to collapse, and I'm not far off that state myself."

Wesley was more than happy with that idea, and they made their way toward Giles' bedroom. It wasn't until they'd reached the threshold that he stopped short, reminded of what had gone on there by the rumpled bedclothes and disturbing flashes of distorted memory. It was suddenly difficult to breathe, and he raised a hand to the pendant against his chest, pressing it hard to sore skin to reassure himself that the previous situation wouldn't reoccur.

Giles stopped dead too, his eyes on the bed. "Oh, bloody hell. Look, Wes, let's go to your room. This is just too – " His head turned sharply. "Wes? What are you doing?"

Wesley leaned back against the door frame as Giles reached out and unbuttoned his shirt, running his fingers over the reddened, raw skin he found. "God, I didn't realise it had done this! But you don't need it now, Wesley. You can take it off."

"No," Wesley said quickly. "No, I want to keep it on. Just for now." He looked down at Giles' fingers on his chest. "I want the reminder. But yes, let's go to my room. Why don't you... why don't we both change into something more comfortable for sleeping?"

Leaving Giles in his own room to change clothes, Wesley went to his bedroom – it had been months before he'd been able to think of it as something other than 'the room he slept in' – and stripped out of his clothes, pulling on the flannel pants and one of the worn t-shirts he generally wore for to bed, taking care not the let the pendant leave his skin throughout the process.

Giles came up beside him, dressed in much the same way, though Wesley had a feeling Giles normally wore rather less when he slept alone, and they stood for one long, awkward moment before Giles grinned and sat down on the bed. "Which side?" he asked politely, tugging down the sheets and getting ready to crawl beneath them.

"It doesn't matter," Wesley said. "It's been so long since I slept in the same bed with someone..."

It took them a couple of minutes to get settled, ending with Wesley's back to Giles' chest, a strong arm wrapped around his waist protectively. It felt safe like that, as if Wesley wouldn't be able to do anything that Giles didn't want – this way, Giles was clearly the one with the upper hand, and that was the way Wesley preferred things, really.

"Are you comfortable?" he asked.

Warm breath tickled his neck as Giles answered him. "Too much so... if I drift off to sleep, will you be offended?" He felt a kiss on the back of his neck, and Giles' arm tightened for a moment. "It's been even longer for me, I expect, but I don't think it ever felt this – " He waited, and Giles finished, his voice soft, "It feels as if we've been doing this for months. As if this is where we belong."

Wesley was already too sleepy himself to agree out loud, so he murmured his assent, feeling the world slip away, the only thing anchoring him to it Giles' arm around his waist.

* * * * *

Yawning and stretching, Wesley woke up and rolled over, blinking at the sunlight coming in through the parted curtains on Giles' window. This was the first morning he was waking without the pendant on since they'd vanquished the Viking warrior, and nothing terrible had happened. It truly was over.

With a happy sigh, he closed his eyes again, grateful that it had taken his cut and bruised face only a few days to heal as he snuggled back down into the pillow and doubly grateful that it was Sunday and they could sleep in.

"It's too late," Giles murmured into his ear, sounding wide-awake. "I've been waiting long enough for you to show signs of life; I'm not going to let you drift off again now you have."

A fingertip traced a path down his spine and paused in the small of his back and then the movement was repeated, this time with the palm of Giles' hand against his skin. He might have been able to ignore that – though he certainly didn't want to – but the gentle nip of teeth against his shoulder, followed by a kiss on the same spot, was impossible to sleep through.

"You could have woken me," Wesley pointed out. He turned over so that he could kiss Giles good morning properly, wrapping an arm around the other man and pulling him closer. "We don't have to go to the office today," he said, completely unnecessarily.

"Which is why I didn't wake you," Giles replied. "I didn't want you growling and snapping at me for disturbing you." The sheer ridiculousness of that idea had Wesley grinning. "On the other hand, it seems a pity to waste a day off by sleeping through most of it. Please note that I'm not saying we have to leave the bed... but there are other things we could be doing."

With a small, entirely pleasurable shock, Wesley realised that Giles was naked. They'd spent the last few nights in the same bed, but done no more than kiss, held back, not by a lack of desire, but by a mutual, unspoken recognition that they needed to put some space between them and what they'd gone through.

Wesley ran a hand down along Giles' spine very slowly, enjoying beyond measure the opportunity to touch bare skin and feel Giles curve into his touch. He kissed Giles again, taking his time about that as well, holding his own body still so as not to rub the evidence of his sudden, powerful desire against Giles. "I get the feeling," he murmured, stopping his hand's downward movement just above Giles' arse, "that you're trying to tell me something."

"If you've only got a 'feeling' that I'm 'trying', then I didn't do a very good job of it, it seems." Giles pursed his lips in pretended thought even as his hand wandered from Wesley's hip to ghost across his bare stomach, grazing the tip of Wesley's erection through the soft fabric that covered it. "Perhaps I should stop talking and show you..."

His hand slid lower and then returned to its position on Wesley's hip with a smooth sweep that dragged his palm slowly across Wesley's cock. The thin material of his trousers rubbed against him and added to the sensations he was feeling.

Wesley gasped, then he retaliated by sliding his own hand lower to cup Giles' arse, squeezing it gently as he leaned in for another kiss. "Show me then," he said, licking Giles' lower lip sensuously. Wanting to make sure that Giles understood what he was saying, he added, "You're in charge. I'd love to do anything you have in mind."

"In charge?" Giles frowned. "I don't – Wesley, it doesn't have to be that way... or the reverse." He stared at Wesley as if judging his sincerity, and his green eyes narrowed. "But if I were, I think I'd be asking you to take these off for a start."

The hand that gripped and tugged at the waistband of his trousers made it quite clear what Giles meant and Wesley helped him to ease them down and off, enjoying the brush of Giles' hand and body against his as Giles didn't move back at all as he wriggled out of them.

Both naked, he decided, as Giles rolled him to his back and lay propped on one elbow beside him, his leg between Wesley's and his hand roaming in teasing patterns over Wesley's chest, was definitely an improvement.

"Oh, that's much better," Giles said, as if he'd heard Wesley's thoughts, leaning down and kissing him, his tongue slipping past Wesley's lips in a slow glide. His hip pressed against Wesley's cock as he shifted position and Wesley felt the hard heat of Giles' erection against his thigh. It made it difficult to concentrate, but he did his best to return the kiss, sliding his hand behind Giles' neck to prolong it.

He so badly wanted to hold Giles' cock, to feel it in his hand, heavy and warm, that he reached down and wrapped his fingers around it, smiling against Giles' lips as the other man groaned softly at the touch. Wesley's level of arousal was building slowly – not the sort that came upon him harsh and fast, but the kind that crept up on him with him hardly noticing – and he let his body move, rubbing again Giles and kissing him and not stopping any of it, just letting it happen.

There was something reassuring and at the same time very not about being pinned to the bed as Giles explored his throat with his mouth, making a point of kissing along the jagged curve of his scar until Wesley's head was tilted back and he was digging his fingernails into Giles' shoulders hard enough to leave deep scarlet crescents when he peeled his hands away.

And when Giles moved his attention further down, biting, not really all that gently at all, at Wesley's nipples until they stung and throbbed and he felt the echo of every bite harden his cock until it ached, that wasn't anything but arousing and he didn't want it to be.

Wesley lifted his hips, pushing his erection up against Giles' stomach, the deep yearning to have Giles inside him an almost painful need. "Please," he begged, as Giles bit and licked at his nipple and one hand slid tantalizingly along his thigh. "Rupert..."

"Mmm?"

If he wasn't in the perfect place to know differently, Wesley might have been fooled by that abstracted murmur into thinking that Giles wasn't paying attention to what he was doing, or to him. He said 'please' again and this time Giles lifted his head long enough to say, with a faint smile, "I thought I was allowed to do anything I wanted, Wesley. Doesn't that include getting to know you... slowly?"

As he spoke, his hand moved to Wesley's cock, gripping it hard and sliding up and down on it once, fast enough that the brief caress was over before Wesley had chance to react, and then releasing it. "Or are you in a hurry?"

The shudder that ran through Wesley's body was like an aftershock, entirely expected but no less devastating, and he couldn't hold back the whimper that escaped him. "I should have known you'd be a tease in bed," he said, trying to inject some humour into the words and, he thought, succeeding. "But you're right... I said that you'd be allowed to do whatever you liked."

He did his best to let Giles continue to touch him without asking for more, and while he managed not to actually speak, he couldn't help but moan and shift his body in response. Giles' hand moved another inch higher, just enough so that, when Wesley clenched his thigh muscles, the knuckle of Giles' thumb brushed against his balls fleetingly, and that made him moan as his erection throbbed in response.

"I have to say, you don't make it easy to go slowly, or to tease you," Giles said, his voice sounding slightly strained. "The way you feel... those sounds you're making – God, Wesley, you're making me want to just – and well, I suppose I can, can't I?"

Before Wesley could work out why Giles was smiling by the end of his sentence, Giles had slid down the bed and Giles' lips closed around the head of his cock, sucking firmly but only for a moment. "If this is too fast, I'll stop," Giles said, a thread of amusement in his voice as he paused, his mouth an inch away from Wesley.

Slowly, Wesley opened his eyes and stared down at Giles.

He really did look disgustingly pleased with himself, Wesley thought dimly, even though most of his own ability to think had deteriorated. Temporarily unable to speak, he watched as Giles' tongue flicked out, painting a wet stripe along his shaft and causing his hips to rise in response. "God, love..." he managed to say, the words almost a caress.

That got him Giles' hand on his cock, holding it in place as he bent his head down again, his other hand flat against Wesley's thigh, fingers spread wide, high enough up on Wesley's leg that his thumb could flick out to rub against the underside of Wesley's balls. "Love you, Wes," Giles murmured between warm, wet kisses on the tip of Wesley's cock, the words doing as much to arouse Wesley as Giles' mouth. "Wanted to show you how much for so long..." He moved his hand down and let Wesley's cock slide deeply into his mouth, sucking at it fiercely as his tongue and teeth worked together to leave Wesley overwhelmed by sensation.

Wesley could feel the muscles in his thighs and calves tighten. He was aware that a series of small sounds was escaping him, and made no effort to hold them back as Giles' mouth continued to do incredible things. His only determination was that he wasn't going to come like this – not until Giles was inside him – but it was already becoming unbelievably difficult.

He closed his eyes again.

Giles paused without moving his head away very far away, leaning on his elbow and glancing up at Wesley. "You sound as if you're enjoying this," he said, circling the head of Wesley's cock with his finger and drawing a whimper from him, "but you're holding back. Do you want me to stop?"

"No. I mean, yes," Wesley said raggedly, biting his lower lip as Giles traced a fingertip down the length of his cock. He rocked his hips slightly, trying to urge Giles' touch to move lower. "I want you to fuck me."

Giles moved up beside him and took Wesley's hand, stroking his thumb over his palm before bringing it to his cock. Wesley's fingers curled around it automatically, feeling it jerk and quiver as he touched it. It felt so hard that his own throbbed in sympathy. "Do you think I don't?" Giles said.

Letting his fingers slide down to caress the soft skin of Giles' inner thigh, Wesley said gently, "No. No, I don't." And he leaned in and kissed Giles, taking his time and channeling all of his love and gratitude into it as their tongues met and his hand began to stroke Giles' cock slowly. "I love you, and I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

As if he'd been waiting to hear that, Wesley felt the last tension leave Giles as he returned Wesley's kiss with an equal amount of fervour before rolling away for just long enough to slick fingers and cock. Without speaking, his eyes never leaving Wesley's, Giles worked his fingers into Wesley's body, leaning forward to kiss him as he did so, his free hand cupping Wesley's face.

Wesley let out a long slow breath as his body adjusted to the welcome invasion, shifting his hips automatically to take Giles' fingers deeper and moaning when they brushed over just the right spot. He spread his legs wider, shuddering as Giles thrust his fingers in more roughly. "God, yes. Please..."

"You have no idea how you look," Giles whispered, as he let his fingers slip out of Wesley almost reluctantly after a few more deep strokes. He ghosted a kiss over Wesley's neck and bit down, not gently, where his lips had been. "Want you, Wesley. Want you now."

Wesley watched Giles's face tense up as his cock nudged against Wesley's body, and he guided it inside him in a series of gradually deepening thrusts.

Still keenly aware of the spot on his throat that Giles had bitten, Wesley cried out as the head of Giles' cock rubbed over his prostate, very nearly coming right then and there. "Yes... yes. More."

And Giles complied, pulling out and thrusting in again, even deeper this time. Wesley curled his spine, raising his head so that he could kiss Giles, reveling in the way Giles' tongue fucked his mouth, his hips never slowing.

There was an intensity to this that he hadn't expected, Wesley thought hazily. Giles had always seemed so controlled, so reserved, for all his friendliness and concern, that he'd assumed he'd be like that in bed too.

Now, with bruises forming where Giles' hands were hard against his body, looking up into eyes filled with need and hunger and love, Wesley changed his mind.

Giles slowed down, keeping each stroke as deep, but easing back a little, keeping them both on the edge of a climax Wesley could feel building within his body. So close...

"I want to see you come, Wes," he said, his voice husky and commanding, reaching between them and taking Wesley's cock inside the tight circle of his hand.

He didn't want to, not yet... he wanted to wait... Wesley squirmed beneath Giles, not so much trying to escape his touch as distract himself from the inevitable for a bit longer. Giles' hand worked his cock authoritatively, his thrusts harder and faster as he neared his own release, and then Giles' mouth was on his again, ravishing, and Wesley came.

It forced its way through him, an enormous jolt accompanied by a shout he couldn't have held back if his life had depended upon it. The subsequent ripples of savage pleasure wrung more cries from him, his body jerking with the magnitude of it.

He heard Giles call out his name in a hoarse voice and saw the face above him contort as he sought release, his smooth rhythm broken down into powerful, almost desperate strokes, his hand still relentlessly tight around Wesley's cock as his come spurted out, slicking Giles' fingers. Then Giles came too, his back arching, his mouth open on a wordless, primal cry.

Wesley pulled Giles down, cradling the other man's body with his own, one hand rubbing the length of Giles' back and the other tangling in Giles' hair, tilting his head so that they could kiss. They were both breathing heavily, their heartbeats racing in tandem, but they kissed as if nothing else mattered.

"Love you," Wesley murmured against Giles' lips. "God, I love you."

"I love you, too," said Giles softly.

* * * * *

Wesley finished writing down the last of the messages and pushed the button to erase them from their voice mail. One completed case saying that the cheque was in the post, a current case leaving information that they needed, and two potential clients inquiring about the services they provided. Their little business was growing by leaps and bounds, each month seeing the arrival of new clients, or the return of old ones. He glanced at the desk calendar and realised that he'd been in England for just over a year now, though that date wasn't one he wanted to celebrate. There were happier anniversaries coming up, after all.

He looked up as Giles opened the door, entering with a small waxed paper bag tucked under his arm and both hands holding paper cups of coffee.

"I'm reminded again why I love you," Wesley said, smiling and moving eagerly to rescue his cup of coffee from Giles.

"You love me because I bring you coffee?" Giles said, putting his own cup on the desk. "Either you're easily pleased, or you're trying to get me in a good mood so I share the donuts." He tossed the bag to Wesley. "Fortunately for you, I'm still in love with you for far purer reasons that have nothing to do with why we were late for work, so I'll let you have first pick."

Setting his coffee cup on the edge of the desk, Wesley opened the bag and peered inside hopefully. "Jam-filled?" he asked, and then spotted a likely candidate and removed it, offering the bag back to Giles even as he took a bite. "Mm – good," he said, around a mouthful of sticky jam. "Purer reasons?" He knew what sorts of answers that question would yield, which, selfishly, was why he asked it.

"Many of them," Giles said, taking the bag and putting it beside his coffee. He studied Wesley and grinned. "You have jam on your chin. Already. You're one of the neatest people I know, and you still can't eat one of those without getting sticky." He leaned back against the desk, arms folded, and looked thoughtful as Wesley scrubbed his chin clean with his handkerchief. "Where was I? Reasons for loving you that have nothing to do with the way you make those little whimpery noises when I – "

The phone rang, and Giles rolled his eyes, gave Wesley a swift, hard kiss, and went to answer it, licking powdered sugar off his lips as he reached for a pen.

Wesley studied Giles carefully as he spoke to the caller and jotted down notes, not really paying attention the conversation, more watching the way Giles' mouth formed words.

Since they'd killed the Viking warrior and started to share a bed as well as a life, Wesley had begun to feel for the first time as if he'd really left L.A. behind him, where it belonged. He wouldn't forget, of course, but he was learning to let it go, to focus on the present and future instead of the past. He felt... content. It was an unusual feeling, something that he was still trying to get accustomed to, but he liked it.

Being loved was something he didn't want to get used to. He didn't think he'd ever take that for granted. Giles looked up, met his eyes, and smiled at him, and Wesley smiled back.

Then his mind made sense of what Giles was saying to the person on the other end of the line and he stood up. A Threknar demon? They were going to need the big axe...