Summary: Wes is a little sneezy and Giles doesn't mind.
Giles stopped dusting for a moment, holding
the feather duster between his teeth as he pulled a book off the shelf. Before
he could even open it to read, he heard a sneeze and turned his head.
Wesley had
arrived late last night; Giles hadn't even heard him come in. And he hadn't
seen or felt him either, as Wesley crashed and slept on the couch instead of
making it all the way to Giles' bed. Now he was sitting up so that Giles could
see him, arm across the back of the couch. His whole face was twitching,
nostrils flaring, nose wrinkling, eyes blinking, mouth
moving around as if all the contortions would be enough to drive the tickles
right away. It didn't work, however, and he swayed forward. "h'EHshahhh! hetShheooo!
Eh-heh-ehgishhhh!"
"I'm
sorry," Giles said, carefully putting down both book and duster. "I forgot your
nose can be sensitive. I just thought I'd clean up a tad before you woke. I
haven't had much time lately for housework." He settled down on the couch,
narrowly avoiding Wes' lower legs. "I didn't mean to make you all sneezy. Though it isn't altogether an uninvited sight."
Wesley
smiled and half-laughed. His hand traveled over the throw he'd used as a
blanket, and found Giles' fingertips. He reached forward even more and took
hold of Giles' hand, fingers intertwined. "Dod't blabe yourself. Truth
is, I have rather a bad case of the sdeezes. Cabe dowd with it a few days ago." He
squeezed Giles' hand. "I'b sorry."
Giles shook
his head with insistence. "Don't be sorry. I know we've had this scheduled for
a while, but you didn't need to drive all the way here if you weren't feeling so
well. I know it's not all that magical, but there are these things called
phones..."
Wesley gave
that a full laugh. "I codsidered callig,
however I was afraid you would tell be to stay id L.A. Add
I desberately deeded to cobe
to you."
Giles' response was a sort of pleased sigh of
understanding, as he pulled Wesley by the arm into an embrace. He felt the man
shuffle around, bending legs and leaning into Giles. As soon as he stopped moving,
Giles felt him relax into the hug, rubbing his cheek into Giles' chest.
"Adgel has absolutely do caregivig
skills. Charles is id add out, dot always aroud. I thig Cordy is bore disgusted with
be thad sybathetic. Snff! Snrff!"
Wesley pulled back a little and rubbed the back of his hand at his slightly
drippy nose. "Add the last tibe I had a bit of a widter sdiffle you... sniff! SnffSnffff!
You were so- snrff! Sniff! Sniffsniff!"
Giles had a
handkerchief in the back pocket of his trousers, and he eased it out now. "Here,
let me take care of that." He repeatedly swiped the white cotton square under
Wesley's nose, then unfolded it a little so that Wesley
could blow into it. The older man's ministrations lasted a handful of minutes,
until Wesley's nose was in order.
But, as Giles lowered the handkerchief, Wesley wound up for a
sudden sneeze. "hetChishhhh!" When he opened his
eyes a second later, he looking astonishing apologetic. "Oh, Giles... it
was the tickle... so ticklish id by dose..." His cheeks were ablaze.
Giles took
off his glasses, dabbed at his face with the cuff of his button-down shirt.
Then he dried his glasses against his trousers. "Nothing at
all to apologize for. You can't help what the tickles wish to do." He
slid his glasses back on. "Now what I wish to do is get
you off this couch and tucked into bed with some fluids and tissues and yours
truly." With gratitude, Wesley moved forward and wrapped his arms around Giles'
neck so Giles could lift him up and carry him.