September 8, 2006
1,860 words
Warning: Fluff to end all fluff.
Written for gothicautumn03 in the 2006 WatcherLove ficathon. Her request
included: rain, dancing, and fluff.
* * *
"Wesley, I don't dance," Rupert protested.
Wesley wouldn't hear it. He pulled on Rupert's arms until the man was standing before him, then wrapped his arms around Rupert's torso. "Just one little dance, for me."
Rupert couldn't help but smile at that. "Aren't we a little old for this?" he said, holding Wesley close, their heads leaning together.
Wesley gave a soft sigh. "It's our anniversary, Rupert, we're entitled to do whatever we want no matter how old we might be. Besides, one is never too old for slow dancing."
There was a hint of annoyance in his words, and Rupert tilted Wesley's head up and kissed him. Rupert inhaled deeply, leaning his head against Wesley's shoulder and savouring his lover's smell. There was no music playing as they swayed in the middle of the living room, their arms tight around each other. The rain falling outside provided all the music they needed, their windows all opened because Wesley loved the sound of the rain.
They had planned a picnic and an excursion to their favourite museum as celebration, but the rain had started early in the day, the sky already clouded by the time they'd gotten out of bed, so they'd had to make the best of it. Remnants of their unfinished lunch were scattered on the blanket by the fire, and a bottle of champagne was waiting in the fridge. It would wait a while longer; they were in no rush today.
"Is the museum still on?" Rupert asked, voice low, trying not to disturb the quiet moment.
"Only if you still want to go," Wesley replied, his hips swaying to what he hoped resembled the rhythm of the rain-though he was in no way delusional about his dancing abilities-forcing Rupert, who was still reticent, to move with him. "I'd be happy to spend the afternoon here."
Rupert smiled, and he kissed the skin just underneath Wesley's ear. "What a hopeless romantic you are."
That earned him a soft chuckle. "So are you."
"Perhaps."
Wesley sighed contently, then tensed. "Do you really believe they'll leave us alone for the whole day?" he asked, thinking back to the distraught look on Buffy's face when they'd told her they would prefer not to be disturbed for the day.
"Now you've jinxed it," Rupert answered, his voice a murmur barely louder than the sound of the rain. He stopped moving and took Wesley's face in his hands. Their eyes locked, and both men smiled. Rupert brushed his lips against Wesley's in a whisper, a promise of a kiss. "I love you." A sure way to make Wesley blush, and it occurred to Rupert that he didn't use it nearly enough, especially when taking into consideration how much he loved to watch Wesley's face flush.
Wesley's fingertips brushed against Rupert's lips. "I love you too," he whispered, "with all my heart." It had taken him a long time to admit it to himself, a long time to believe that Rupert's affections were genuine and that Wesley could give his heart to him. It seemed almost ridiculous to him now to have doubted Rupert's words.
They were moving in for a kiss, their lips barely touching, when the phone rang. "What did I tell you?" Rupert said, leaning his forehead against Wesley's for a second. "You jinxed it."
"Let the machine pick it up."
Rupert moved out of Wesley's embrace, looking away. "It could be important."
Wesley gave a quiet groan, but let Rupert go, his arms falling to his sides. His smile had vanished, and the idea of cursing himself for speaking crossed his mind. He should have known that mentioning the others would jinx it.
"Oh, hello, Buffy," Rupert said into the phone, his eyes following Wesley as he paced into the living room. "Can't this wait until tomorrow? An attack? Are you sure?-Bloody hell." Giles took his glasses off, putting them on the counter, and rubbed his nose. "All right, we'll be there as soon as we can." Rupert hung up. "It seems we'll be going to the museum after all."
Wesley took one look at their unfinished meal before nodding. "There was an attack?"
"Buffy followed a group of demons heading there, and they seem to be growing in number. She fears what they must be planning, though she doesn't know what it is." Rupert picked up a crossbow and held up Wesley's sword. "I'm sorry."
Wesley shrugged. "In our line of work, you can't really expect one full quiet day. It would be almost a miracle."
Rupert kissed him quickly, his fingers brushing against Wesley's cheek before he grabbed his coat and walked to the door. "Let's go; the faster we deal with them, the faster we can be back here and opening that champagne bottle."
The ride was spent in silence, Wesley looking out the window at the falling rain. Despite Rupert's words, Wesley wasn't all too excited about the prospect of coming home after the fight; they would be exhausted, sweaty, and most possibly covered in demon blood, perhaps even injured. This was not how he'd planned to celebrate their anniversary.
Rupert parked the car, acutely aware of how Wesley's mood had changed. Not to say that his hadn't, but he hated to know Wesley was unhappy. Not when there wasn't anything he could say or do to make it right. He squeezed his lover's hand, giving him an encouraging smile, before hurrying out of the car. Wesley on his tail, they ran to the main entrance, both surprised to find the curator himself waiting for them inside.
"They're in there," Mr. Warrick said, shaking, as he led them to a modest set of black doors not too far from the entrance.
"Of course," Wesley said. "Move back." With a nod to Giles, he kicked open the door and they charged in, weapons held up and ready to strike.
"Surprise!"
The two of them stopped abruptly, dumbstruck, when all their friends jumped up from behind the table, all wearing grins. Their weapons fell to the floor with a clang and they stared, mouths opened. "Bloody hell," Rupert murmured. A banner was hung on the wall behind the others, bearing the words: 'Happy First Anniversary, Giles and Wesley!' It was written in bright letters, almost enough to give them both a headache if they stared at it for too long.
It was wonderful.
Buffy was the first one to approach them, if a little warily, twisting her hands together. "I know you guys aren't all that much into the whole showing of affection, with the being British and all," Buffy said apologetically, obviously mistaking their shock for distaste. "Just think of it as one more reason for the rest of us to party."
Wesley and Rupert both laughed, exchanging a smile. Rupert turned to Buffy, engulfing her in his arms. "Thank you," he whispered in her ear. "This is quite marvellous."
"You're welcome," she whispered back, kissing his cheek and letting him go, the bright smile back on her face as she turned to Wesley and hugged him too.
Xander and Charles took the weapons away, while Willow and Tara poured the champagne and handed the first two glasses to Wesley and Rupert. "Here's to you both. For many more anniversaries."
Wesley looked at Rupert, and smiled. After the toast, cake was passed around and eaten, and soft, classical music started playing. Rupert put his paper plate down and excused himself from the conversation he was having with Xander.
He found Wesley deep in conversation with Charles, and pulled him away. Turning Wesley around until they were face to face, Rupert wrapped his arms around him, bringing him closer. He started to sway.
"I thought you didn't dance," Wesley murmured into his ear.
Rupert smiled and bent his head, for once uncaring that their friends were watching-and most possibly cheering as well, though he heard nothing but the music and Wesley's breathing. The kiss was soft, their lips brushing together, almost chaste, but promising much more to come. "Only for you."
***
It was late when they finally made their way back home, the sun now set, and the air cooler. "I'm glad Angel came," Rupert said, closing the door behind him when they were both inside.
"Me too." It surprised Wesley, that Rupert said that. Angel had never been a comfortable topic of conversation between them. What surprised Wesley the most, though, was that he hadn't even thought that the fact Angel was at the party might have been a problem for Rupert, and now he cursed himself for his foolishness.
"I know what working with him, all of them, really, meant to you," Rupert whispered, sensing Wesley's sudden discomfort. He wrapped his arms around Wesley's torso from behind, and leaned his head against Wesley's shoulder. "I truly am glad that they all made it."
Wesley let go of the breath he had been holding, and closed his eyes, leaning into Rupert's embrace. "Thank you."
"If you-" Rupert started, then sighed.
"What?"
Rupert tightened his arms, and kissed the side of Wesley's neck. "I was about to say, if you wish to go back to L.A., work for the agency again, we could make it work."
"I don't know." Wesley turned around and cupped Rupert's cheek, his thumb softly caressing the skin. "I'm quite sure I wouldn't be able to sleep at all without you in my bed."
Rupert laughed, grabbing the back of Wesley's neck and pulling him closer for a kiss. "That is probably the best reason not to do it, then."
"I still miss them," Wesley whispered.
"I know."
"Not as much as I'd miss you."
"Of course not. And I'd miss you more than you know, but if you really wish to go back, we could make it work." Rupert kissed Wesley again, holding on to him tightly. He had been thinking about it for a while now, after spending months watching Wesley floundering as he tried to find his place with the Sunnydale crowd, but never quite managing. Rupert wanted Wesley to be happy, and if that meant going back to L.A., then so be it; they had managed for four months at the beginning of their relationship, they would manage again.
Wesley nodded, before pulling away, and dragging Rupert up the stairs to the bedroom. "I don't really want to discuss this tonight. I'd much rather make good use of our bed."
Rupert smiled at him, and pulled him close again. "That is most definitely the best idea I've heard all day."
"Get on with it then," Wesley said, teasingly, his hands sliding down Rupert's back, and then up under his shirt. "I'd hoped we'd be naked by now."
"You're interested in another kind of dance, then?" Rupert tugged Wesley's shirt up and over his head, throwing it down to the floor. He kissed Wesley's neck, and trailed his fingers down Wesley's chest to his belt.
"Yes," Wesley whimpered, throwing his head back and barring his throat for Rupert's mouth.
"I think I can be persuaded to dance this particular dance with you."
The end.