Wesley cleared his throat. "I think that I will never see a poem as lovely as a tree."

Giles snorted and almost spit out his tea. "Kilmer? Oh Wesley, I thought better of you."

Wesley stuck his tongue out at Giles and pulled another thin book from the high stacks surrounding him. He flipped to the middle, smirked, then read aloud: "I grow old, I grow old, I shall wear the bottom of my trousers rolled."

"I never realized you so adored sleeping on the couch," Giles drolled. "Or perhaps you'd prefer to share the bathtub with Spike?"

"What, and make you old and jealous?" Wesley ducked playfully behind a stack to avoid Giles' glare. After a moment he peeked out, cautiously. "I thought you liked the moderns."

"Eliot was so stuffy he made the Council look relaxed. If you want real poetry--"

"--listen to Dylan," Wesley said, finishing Giles' sentence for him. "You rebel, you."

Giles shifted across the floor and carefully moved the stacks between himself and Wesley. "Stay, stay while the night is still ahead," he sang, "I long to see you in the morning light."

Wesley put aside the books in his lap and crawled over to Giles. "At this rate we'll be seeing the morning light before we're even half-done. Did you have to rescue every book from the school's library?" He moved forward, forcing Giles to lie flat as Wesley's body covered his. Giles' head rested upon a thick copy of the Oxford Universal Dictionary, Abridged.

"You wanted more room for bookshelves," Giles said as Wesley began to nuzzle his neck. "Bigger apartment, room for two..."

"Hmm," Wesley said. "It seemed like such a good idea at the time. I forgot how much we had in storage." He began to unbutton Giles' shirt to lick and nibble at the skin that was revealed. "We should make Spike do it."

"He'd file everything randomly just to prove how evil he is," Giles said, letting Wesley have his way with him.

"Not if we threaten him with noisy sex."

"Oh, you are terrible!" Giles laughed. He pulled Wesley up and kissed him thoroughly. "It's a good thing we haven't brought him over here yet." Giles moved until Wesley lay beneath him, splayed amongst the books, glasses askew. "Bugger the books," Giles said, pulling at Wesley's buttons. "And bugger Spike."

Wesley ran his fingers along Giles' belt until he reached the buckle. "I'd rather bugger you."

Giles groaned. "I think our new library needs a christening."

"Ours," Wesley said softly. "Yes." He smiled, then reached up and pulled off Giles' glasses and placed them and his own on a nearby stack.

"Ours," Giles said, and kissed him.