"Wesley . . ." Giles reached over absently to get the younger Watcher's attention, lightly brushing his upper arm.
Wesley tensed suddenly, and his reaction was abrupt and violent: He lashed out blindly with his hand, catching Giles across the face.
"*Don't*!" he snarled. Then, as quickly as it had begun, the moment passed, and Wesley realized, too late, where he was. He looked in horror at Giles. Giles, along with everyone else at the table, was staring at him in shock. Wesley's blow had been hard enough to cause a nosebleed, and Giles's hand was pressed tightly over his nose, blood seeping through his fingers.
"I . . ." Wesley began, not knowing what to say or how to explain himself without giving anything away. "I . . . oh, dear." He sighed weakly and silently produced a navy blue linen handkerchief, which he handed to Giles. "Don't tip your head back," he cautioned absently, "you'll just choke yourself."
"I know that," Giles replied sharply, muffled underneath the handkerchief.
"Okay," Buffy said slowly. "Psycho Boy. Wanna fill us in on your childhood trauma?"
"No," Wesley replied shortly, returning to his book.
Xander looked at Buffy, who just shrugged, then at Willow who shrank down at her computer and typed furiously. Oz rubbed his chin absently and picked up a pile of books, turning to head to the upper stacks, as Giles walked towards the minuscule bathroom he was afforded as head librarian.
No one seemed to know what to say, so they all returned uncomfortably to their research on the latest demon. After a few minutes, Wesley rose to his feet, straightened his tie, and walked out the doors.
"...Maybe you should check on him, Buffy?" Willow asked hesitantly.
"Giles'll be fine. He gets nosebleeds all the time during training," Buffy replied, looking anxiously in the direction of Giles' office.
"I meant Wesley."
Buffy turned her head to stare at her friend, then gave her a guilty look. "He said he didn't want to talk about it," she said, feebly, ducking Willow's frown.
"Maybe he's just a big weirdo," Xander chimed in. "He's probably gone to the gym to find Cordelia in her little cheerleading outfit and make googly eyes at her..."
"Jealous much?" Buffy interrupted with a grin. Xander scowled and blustered....
*****
In the men's restroom outside the Library, Wesley stood before the mirrors, hands gripped tightly to the edge of one of the sinks, as he stared blankly at his pale reflection. Finally, he shook his head and turned on the tap, setting his glasses on the shelf. Splashing cold water on his face, he muttered sarcastically, "Oh, that was just brilliant. A casual touch and you fall apart."
His hands slapped the water onto his face, reddening the skin, his jacket cuffs becoming soaked, as he tried to calm down.
"You're getting all wet."
Startled by the soft voice, Wesley spun around and slipped in a puddle of water. Before he could crash into the sinks, strong hands caught him...
and pinned him against the mirror between two sinks.
A shiver shuddered through Wesley at he stared into the sparkling eyes of the young man who pressed against him. The hands that held him slid up his arms, rubbing gently, until they touched a sore spot. Wesley winced and flushed.
"I bruised you last night," the husky voice murmured. "I'm sorry. When you told me it was your first time with a man, I...got a little enthusiastic."
"...Perfectly all right," Wesley stammered, swallowing hard, as he tried to think of a way out of this compromising position...and not how the caressing hands were making him feel.
The lips quirked in a small smile. "Sometimes I don't know my own strength." He pressed closer and Wesley's eyes widened as hard thighs and firm stomachs met, separated only by a few layers of clothes.
"Perhaps...you should let me go," Wesley asked softly, nervously glancing at the door.
"Let me guess...It was a one time thing. You're not gay or even bi. It's okay," the younger man soothed, then nuzzled the damp flesh above Wesley's collar.
Wesley moaned as heat flooded his body and he let his eyes fall shut, reveling in the light kisses and nips at his fevered skin. "When...Mr. Giles...when he touched me...Oh God, yes..."
"Giles...uh huh." Strong hands undid the Windsor knot and pulled the tie free, then unfastened the first two buttons, freeing skin for the hot lips to caress.
Moaning deep in his throat, Wesley slumped against the mirrors and just let his body feel the pleasure of another person's intimate touch.
"He touched a bruise?" was whispered in his ear before a hard nip caught the lobe.
"He...touched...a nerve...oh my...Oh...OZ."
Oz smiled and, as they sank to the floor, he covered the older man's mouth with his, kissing him deeply, as Wesley's arms circled his slender waist and held on tight.
End