Giles burrowed deeper into the warmth of the bedcovers. Slowly he awoke just enough to become aware that his back was cold. Groping behind him for more covers, his fingers connected with a body.
That jolted him awake. The sheets fought him as he struggled to sit up in the darkened room. The light was so dim he could barely make out his surroundings. They did not look familiar. Turning to the right, he found himself gazing down at...someone. It was difficult to see the face that belonged to the body beside him and he was afraid it was a body, a corpse. The cold clamminess he'd touched couldn't be anything else.
Thoughts racing as frantically as his heart, Giles lifted the cover back.
The body moved.
Giles dropped the sheet. Angel. He remembered now.
Drawing his knees up, he rested his forearms on them and lowered his head. Rubbing his chin across the hairs on the back of his arm, he blew out a breath and sat in silence. Aware of his erection brushing against the satin sheets of Angel's bed, he decided he could hold out before the need to take care of it started to become imperative.
After awhile Angel came back to life, one hand seeking out the warmth of the bed where Giles had lain.
"...Giles?" he queried sleepily.
"You have a better memory upon wakening than I," Giles remarked drily.
Angel sat up, the sheet falling to his waist. He put his arms around Giles' bare shoulders and drew the Watcher to him.
"What happened?"
"I...touched you."
The silence was brief while the vampire assimilated the entire meaning of that statement. "Ah. You thought I was dead."
"Yes."
"I am dead, Rupert."
"Technically speaking."
"Rupert..."
"It's all right. It just startled me is all."
"So, you're okay?"
"Yes, Angel. There's no need to be so damned solicitous," he snapped.
"Something is wrong."
"No."
"Stubborn man."
"Irritating vampire."
Angel grinned at the Watcher's annoyance, knowing he'd get over it. He rested his head against Giles' and tightened the hug.
Relaxing into the embrace, Giles allowed himself to be pulled down onto the bed.
Staring up at the ceiling while Angel slid a hand across his chest, causing shivers of anticipation, he said conversationally, "They say that the quickest way to make a friend out of your enemy is to pick a fight with him or... make love to him."
"Oh, really? They say that, do they?" Angel's hand travelled lower, finding the shaft of Giles' penis standing at three-quarters mast. The cool fingers wound around the base and tightened.
Giles shifted his hips. "Yes. They also say that one should know his bedmate lest he be his enemy."
"Sounds confusing -- conflicting advice." Angel pulled on the column of flesh in his hand.
Hissing in pleasure, Giles moved again. A flicker of something passed over his face and then his expression settled back into studied neutrality. He belied that when he moved aside the tangling sheets to search for Angel's cock. Grasping it, he returned the favour being paid to him by stroking it.
Beside him, Angel closed his eyes. Giles rolled onto his side facing his bedmate. Eyes still shut, the vampire instinctively turned to him. They lay together, trading caresses of the most intimate kind. Unhurried, exquisite caresses.
Then Angel stepped up the pace and Giles matched him. In synchronous rhythm their movements increased in tempo and speed. The tension in his lower abdomen built and built until Giles knew he was going to expel it and he did, warmly, messily and satisfyingly. Angel followed him seconds later.
They lay there breathing together, ribbons of semen covering their stomachs and thighs.
Angel dipped into the smear and tasted it, sucking on his finger.
Giles observed him with interest. One eyebrow lifted questioningly.
"You got to taste me last night," Angel explained. "I was just curious to find out how you taste."
"How do you know that was mine?"
Smacking his lips, the vampire replied cheekily, "There was a tangy quality to it -- almost spicy. It was hidden under layers of camoflage that pretend to be virtually flavourless."
"Yours is cold and fruity."
"What?" Angel sputtered. "Fruity?"
"You heard me."
"I'll show you fruity." Angel rose to his knees and leaned over Giles.
"What exactly does that mean "I'll show you fruity"? How do you intend to show this to me?"
"You are so literal-minded. It's an aggravating trait." Angel leaned way down and began lapping up the aftermath of their session.
Giles lay in near immobility watching the dark head moving at his waist. "Wouldn't it be quicker and perhaps more efficient for us to shower?"
Looking up, Angel said, "Good idea. I'll lick it off you in the shower." He slid off the bed and held out a hand.
"Not what I had in mind but it might work." Giles took the hand and let himself be pulled upright and onto his feet.
After the shower and after the sheets had been changed they returned to bed, lying together quietly.
"Rupert, tell me how you are. Really. No joking this time." Angel's head nestled in the curve between Giles' cheek and his collarbone.
Silence met the request.
"Rupert? You were upset this morning when you woke up and it wasn't just because you were surprised when you touched my skin."
Breathing out through his nose, Giles replied, "What happened last night was somewhat embarrassing. My... breaking...down like that. I remembered it and...thought that I should leave before you woke up."
"So you wouldn't have to face me?"
"Yes." It was said nearly inaudibly.
"But then we would have been back to the way it was when you found out I was back from hell. You avoiding me out of anger and confusion. Me avoiding you so I wouldn't upset you."
"Not a healthy solution," Giles agreed. "That's why I stayed."
"I'm glad you stayed, Rupert."
"So am I."
The silence returned and deepened.
Then: "How are we going to explain this to Buffy?"