Title: Arrival
Author: glimmergirl
Pairing: Giles/Wesley
Rating: G
Summary: Post series, established relationship domestic!fic. *warm fuzzies* The second fic I've written for summer_of_giles.
Disclaimer: Not Joss.



The summer rain fell in a soft haze, blurring the edges of building and the beams of streetlamps and car lights. Despite seeming to cling to the air instead of falling through it, the rain permeated through layers of light clothing quickly and unnoticeably, until Wesley felt a trickle of warm water down his spine and his shirt and trousers clung heavily to his already damp skin. The walk to Giles' flat never seemed very long during the day, but the evening, with its darkness and uncertain quiet, slowed his steps and drew the distance out along the slick pavement. Not that he wantd to arrive too quickly, for he was enjoying the anticipation that built with each step he took to follow the shiny, wavering trail formed by the reflection of a streetlamp on the wet ground. By the time he reached the end of one path, another took over, light and rain and misty hope blending until he reached the door to Giles' building and another droplet of rain or sweat tickled the back of his neck before racing down his spine.

"I hadn't expected you to get here so early. Or be quite so soaking wet when you did…" Giles pulled him into the flat, then brushed a kiss over Wesley's cheek after frowning at his appearance.

"I only walked from the tube station. Is that dinner already?" The scent of cooking, like Sunday roast or Christmas dinner, filled the flat, warm and rich after the sharper smell of the damp summer evening.

"Which tube station? The one by the Council building? And it's not nearly ready, so go dry off." There were wet spots on Giles' shirt from leaning too close to Wesley and the frown on his face quickly changed to an amused smile that belied the curtness in his voice. "Dry off," he repeated, pushing Wesley away from the kitchen.

"Is it roast? Oh, it is, and on a Tuesday. With potato?" Now Giles was smiling and his hands were resting at Wesley's waist to stop him from dripping anywhere but the doormat. He peered over Giles' shoulder into the kitchen, then quickly headed off another command with a kiss to Giles' lips. "Hm?"

The hands at Wesley's waist tugged him closer until he could smell soap and aftershave on Giles' skin. It mingled oddly, but comfortably, with the cooking smells and anticipation tickled over Wesley's senses once more. Everything about Giles' flat seemed more comfortable than his own, from the arrangement of the bookshelves to the way the floor creaked in the hall outside the bedroom. If he could immerse himself in all of it, he'd start like this, body pressed to his lover, lips moving down Giles' neck. He might leave out the part about being nudged toward the bathroom, however.

"With potato, and salad, and pudding, and a few other things. After you change. Shoes," Giles added before Welsey could take a step, but he was smiling and one of his hands still lingered on Wesley's side. "My robe's hanging on the door, put that on."

Without the thrill of walking through the evening mist, full of the desire to be close to Giles again, Wesley found his clothes too heavy and the dry, worn robe a relief after a the shiver of cool air on his skin. On the way back to the kitchen, he peered into the bedroom. Giles had already brought in his overnight bag and set it down by a basket of clean laundry, filled partly with clothes Wesley had left there during his last visit. There were probably more of his clothes here that at his place, and that felt right to Wesley, though it made his own flat more of a transitionary place than a home. His clothes, the already turned down bed with more pillows on it than they'd need to sleep with later on, the clatter of dishes, and the sense that his life could be like this everyday had been what Wesley had walked through the rain for and though he was here and dry, there was a continual feeling of arrival.

"Everything all right? Oh, that looks much better." Giles put a lid on one of the pots on the stove and walked over to Wesley as he approached the tiny kitchen.

"Much drier, mostly. You did my laundry." Wesley ducked his head to let Giles take the towel from around his neck and rub it over his damp hair.

"Hm, yes. I still harbor the hope that one day you'll come to stay and not leave after a few days."

"You're wooing me with clean laundry?"

"And cooking," Giles added, "I've made roast potatoes…"

"You must be serious, then." The towel scrubbed over Wesley's hair once more, ruffling it up, and the back of Giles' hand stroked his cheek. "You are serious," he murmured at the look in Giles' eyes.

A nod, then an almost bashful smile. "I am. You don't need to… n-not immediately, but if you like… There's certainly enough room."

Half his things were already at Giles' flat, clothes kept in the spare drawers, books shelved in amongst his partner's, files from work piled on or next to the desk. "I seem to take up so much of it already," he replied, and even if he didn't, the sound of the heavier rain falling outside, the scent of dinner cooking, and the feel of warm terrycloth against his skin would easily have erased any trace of doubt. "This weekend?"

"We'll fetch the rest so you can take up more of my room." Giles squeezed his hand tightly for a moment. "Come on. I've some soup for you. You ought to have it after that walk in the rain."

"Rupert, it's the middle of summer. I'm hardly likely to get chilled."

"Maybe not." He still sat Wesley down at the table and fussed over pots and bowls and spoons for a bit. Before giving Wesley the soup, he took his hand again and held it so hard that Wesley felt the same joy and anticipation that filled Giles' touch.

There was also the knowledge that there would be weeks when neither of them would have time to do the laundry and even some Sundays wouldn't have a roast dinner. Tonight, however, Giles had made him vegetable soup, the radio was on in the kitchen, and Wesley could imagine the anticipation of arrival filling his evenings for a very long time to come.