Title: Everyday
Author: glimmergirl
Fandom: BtVS/AtS
Pairing: Giles/Wesley
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not Joss.

Beta: katekat1010

Hideously belated watcherlove Ficathon 2005 piece for eloise_bright who requested a shared reminiscence, some hurt/comfort and books, up to R. I cannot apologize enough for how late this is.



*

By the end of the summer all the staff at the used bookshop around the corner from his favorite café knew Giles. They put aside the books on comparative linguistics and historical mysteries for him. They always had a few boxes for him to pick up at the end of the month so he could bring back the already read paperbacks, for which he would only ever accept store credit. They also always asked him about Wesley, which was more than Giles could say for his colleagues. That, if nothing else, would have kept him coming back every week.

*

"When did you get these?" Giles peered down at the packet of imported biscuits. From Belgium, he thought, though he'd need his glasses to be certain.

Wesley didn't look up from his books as he replied, "Last week? No, just the other day. The ones in the blue wrapper?"

"Mm."

"The other day. I thought you'd like them."

They were covered in rich, dark chocolate and more expensive than any packet of biscuits ought to be, but Wesley was right. Giles did like them, almost as much as he liked the pleased smile on Wesley's face as they shared one.

*

For the first six months after he got out of hospital, Wesley slept on his back. It was odd to wake up and not be curled around Giles. When he tried to do so his muscles protested the movement, still stiff from sleep and sore from what should have been a mortal wound. Not that his thoughts ever followed that path at four in the morning; after a few moments of tired frustration, he would close his eyes and concentrate on the ever present feeling of security. For six months, Wesley slept with Giles' hand resting just above his abdomen.

*

Slow. Damp. Ticklish. Eager. Giles' lips smiled against Wesley's stomach after kissing their way down from his collarbone. He started nuzzling softly, looked up for a second after Wesley gasped, and went back to nuzzling and kissing. Each time his lips or tongue edged close to nibble the scar tissue, Wesley's muscles tightened with a twinge of pain. The soreness, coupled with the teasing touch of his lover's mouth as Giles neared uneven skin, exhilarated Wesley. The sensations spun together into a dizzying mix of aching arousal and just plain ache. And gratitude, for being alive enough to feel both.

*

"Do you remember my first flat in America? How empty is was?"

Giles lifted stroking fingers from his chest to kiss the tips, then let them fall back to draw strange, wandering patterns over his damp skin. "I do… it wasn't that long ago, Wes."

"Sometimes, it feels…" Wesley's words trailed off and his fingers trailed down Giles' side. He kissed the center of Giles' chest and rested his cheek there for a few silent moments. "Maybe we ought to buy some art, or more bookshelves."

"We'll look for both." At the feel of another kiss, Giles tugged Wesley closer.

*

London was still warm well into autumn, but the odd sort of warm that stuck Wesley's shirt to his back while stinging the tips of his fingers with a cold wind, a harbinger of the winter months yet to come. He'd missed the turning of the seasons and even peculiar, uncertain days like today, with the prospect of rain at any time, were less strange than the near invariable climate of Los Angeles. Almost home, Wesley decided to walk through the drizzle to Giles' office and bring him a coffee, pleased the detour to the café would lengthen his walk.

*

"Do you want me to pick up anything on my way home?"

Wesley frowned at his reflection in the mirror, then at Giles as he rinsed off his razor. "You're leaving already? It's not even eight o'clock."

"Er, well, no, it's not." Giles waited until Wesley dried off his face before leaning in and kissing his cheek. "If I leave early, I can get home early, with take-away, and a whole weekend in front of me." He kissed Wesley's neck. "To spend with you…"

"Get Thai for dinner," Wesley murmured before he got in a longer, deeper good bye kiss.

*

Before Wesley moved in, the flat hadn't felt much like a home, what with all the traveling and overtime he'd been putting in for the Council. With Wesley gone to visit his parents for the week, it felt like that again - too empty, unfamiliar, not quite warm enough. Giles slept on the sofa that whole week, reading or watching late night television so he could tell himself that he hadn't chosen to sleep there, but had fallen asleep before getting to bed. Besides, waking up with a backache was somehow better than lying awake in their bed all alone.

*

"I'm never leaving you alone again." Wesley kneaded the tense muscles in Giles' shoulders until he got a grunt in reply. "Better?"

"Mm. And oh, no. You don't need to feel that way. There, again," Giles muttered when Wesley's fingers worked a bit lower. "Besides, that might mean having your parents come here."

"That wouldn't go very well."

There was a noise of agreement, then one of satisfaction after Wesley finished the back rub.

Wesley eased down onto the bed and put an arm around Giles. "I like the idea of spending every day with you."

"Everyday… that sounds right."

*

"Are these new or ones you've already read?"

Wesley knelt down to examine the box of books Giles indicated. "Oh… I've read these."

"So I can take them to the bookshop? Or not," Giles added when Wesley hesitated.

"I know we've enough books, and there's not much room, but I… I thought I might reread those at some point, and I couldn't bear to get rid of them."

Unable to resist the pleading expression in Wesley's eyes, Giles smiled and helped him stand back up. "We'll make room. I'm sure there's a free corner for another shelf someplace in here."