Later, in the shower, she’ll feel the soap sting her knees and remember how they slid on the threadbare carpet beside the bed, short stutters when Wesley’s hands were tight on her hips, longer when his hands slackened as he was distracted. Later...now she doesn’t care what’s getting rubbed raw as long as Wesley keeps up that hard, steady rhythm, with the gasps and the hissed curses that must be the best he can do in the way of sweet talk, because if he calls her ‘darling’, he’s dead...but he’s pausing, and she’s ready to grind her teeth, because she’d been so close that time, and he knew, the bastard, he knew...but he’s stopped because Giles signalled him, and that meant Giles wasn’t happy with what she was doing, and if choking because she’d taken him in too deep pissed him off, she didn’t like to think what he’d do if she bit down hard...
One hand in Faith’s hair, strong and thick and soft, smelling of cheap shampoo - and after this long with Cordelia and Buffy he knows what the good stuff smells of, and it’s never soap – and one reaching out, fingertips resting on Wesley’s shoulder, or moving to touch his face – and when Wesley captures his finger in his mouth and sucks on it, just as Faith – finally - stops teasing him with her tongue and gets down to making him feel as if he’s the dregs of a milkshake, he moans, and hears Wes echo it, and Faith smiles around him as she hears them, and that won’t do at all, so he shakes his head, just the smallest bit, and Wesley eases back, so just the tip of his cock is inside Faith and they lean forward and kiss over her head, tongues soft and lips gentle while beneath them, Faith shudders and whimpers and finally whispers, ‘please’, followed by ‘fuckers’, but Wesley doesn’t stop for that, not now, just smacks her on every stroke, until Giles holds out his hand and Wesley’s hot palm kisses it and then he comes.
He never thought Giles would come first, but he can’t regret it, not when he get to watch Giles’ face empty of self as the green eyes focus on something that isn’t Wesley, even though Giles is staring right at him, just like he’s been doing the whole time since Wesley knelt behind Faith and put his cock where Giles’ mouth had been.
He doesn’t fool himself that what they’re doing is sanctioned, though Giles made a good job of convincing Faith –so much more traditional than Buffy – that it was. Watchers have fucked Slayers into compliance before, yes, but not for a long time...and strictly speaking, Giles isn’t a Watcher now. But he knew he couldn’t have done this alone, and, for once, not being enough doesn’t trouble him.
Faith might need them both to satisfy her, but later, when it’s just Giles and him, he knows he’ll be good enough.
And with that thought to warm him, he slams into her hard, and lets his release spill out on a whispered name, and forgives her every insult, every insolent wriggle of her backside during training against a body she’s aroused to the point of pain, when she screams out his name as she comes.
They lie together afterwards on the narrow bed; not for long, because Faith wants to shower, and Giles and Wesley want to talk, but long enough that when they part, there’s no awkwardness. Faith even kisses them, an exuberant, lusty buss of a kiss full on their mouths, that rocks Wesley back on his heels, and makes Giles smile with a warmth he hasn’t shown her for a long time.
Then they leave. Wesley doesn’t like to be too fussy about the details, but strictly speaking, training was supposed to end at 8.00, and it’s already twenty past.
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