Giles wrote a letter on the plane, convinced that, this way, his letter would be the first: setting the tone of all those to follow. As he stared unseeing into the dark, he had difficulty thinking what he wanted to say.
What can I say? I'm sorry? Again? Although, I honestly don't know what for. But if I offended you, if I upset you, bloody hell, Spike, if I just looked at you in the wrong way, then I am very, very sorry. I want you. Let's get that completely clear. That drives everything I do and say now. I wish you were here alongside me on this interminable flight. It wouldn't seem so long. But you'll be flying over soon. Let's put all the nonsense of this last week behind us and focus on that. I've been thinking, too: why not fly to England, and we can travel over together?
I hated leaving you like that at the airport. I felt there were so many unresolved issues between us but that they were all yours. (And I've just said that we should leave all this behind us.) Will you write, please, and try to explain some of it to me?
His plan failed, for a letter arrived from Spike the day after Giles arrived home, written the evening Giles had left: two letters written at the same time, while their authors travelled further and further apart.
I'm so pissed at you right now. All the way to the bloody
airport I thought you'd get it. I thought that impressive cranium of yours might
actually do something useful and you'd turn to me with that look you get and
you'd actually understand what all this has been about. But I think when you
get away from here you will see it. I hope, anyway.
Jeez, Rupert, you really do suck at relationships. But then I've only had three in over one hundred and forty years. So what does that make me? Discount Dru on the grounds of lunacy (cus half the time she thought I was Angelus and the other half wished I was). Discount Harm, cus if you count her, you'd have to count my fist as well - had more of a relationship with it than her - so that leaves just you. Maybe it is me then. Fuck. But it's not. It's you. So work it out.
And yeah, I'm drunk. What you going to do about it?
The unfortunate crossing of these letters drove Giles to distraction. He tried to telephone Buffy to ask her to get Spike to call him, but every time he spoke to her, he couldn't bring himself to make this odd request. Finally, he wrote back.
No, I'm not going to spend my waking hours trying to work out what a hormonal vampire wants me to 'get'. Spike, has it ever occurred to you that living with Drusilla all those years did not give you a very rational idea of what normal communication is? Stop this cryptic nonsense, and just tell me what you think I've done wrong.
Once more, letters crossed, for Spike's arrived before he could have had a chance to get this, but when he had obviously received Giles' first.
You bastard. Yeah, let's just forget anything that I might
think important. Let's go back to where you want this to be. Seriously. Oh,
no! Did that come over as a bit cynical. I didn't mean it. Honest. Go on then,
let's start everything again - just before you came here. Good idea.
Giles stamped his foot when he ripped this open in the post office and looked around to see if anyone was watching him. He really wished now he'd not called Spike hormonal and calculated that the vampire would be getting that letter about the same time as he was reading this one.
He doubled his resolve to speak to Spike and at least get their letters in synch. Later that morning, he phoned Buffy, hoping to catch her just as she got up. It was good timing and, after the usual exchange of non-news, he plucked up some courage and said nonchalantly, 'By the way, you know that book I'm going to write…?'
Buffy giggled: her standard reaction to the thought of Giles writing a book about her. 'Yeah.'
'Well, Spike has agreed to fill me in on the two slayers he… well, you know… rather unfortunate….'
'So, I need to speak to him. When you see him, will you make him telephone me?'
'Err, no Buffy, in….' He bit back his caustic reply and added sweetly, 'Of course, same number as you always ring.'
'Okay. What if he doesn't want to speak to you? He doesn't like you.'
'No, I don't think he does very much at the moment. Please, Buffy, just try. Tell him I said please.'
At the exact moment that the sun must have set in Sunnydale, the telephone rang. Giles was slightly drunk: enough to loosen his tongue, anyway.
'If you've received another letter from me, don't open it.'
'Bugger. Too late to say don't read it?'
'Bugger. Too late to say don't take any notice of it?'
'I don't take notice of any shit you say. Why should this be any different?'
'Ah. So it is.'
'Don't friggin' look Spike me. This is over Watcher. It ain't gonna work. I was gonna let it play out for a bit longer, cus I want you more than I wanna be alone, but I can't go through all this shit again. It's too much.'
'What the hell are you talking about? Just talk to me, Spike, not at me.'
'I've bin talkin' and talkin', but you don't hear.'
'No. You've been playing some bloody game, I think. Well, I'm sick of it. I told you I wanted you. You've just said as much to me - I think - so what the hell are we doing arguing like this? Let's draw a line under all this and see each other in the spring. Everything will look better in the spring, won't it?'
'When the sun's out.'
'Well, yes, that and getting warmer, I suppose. What did you think of my idea about flying here first?'
'Oh! Bloody Hell!'
Giles' eardrum actually popped slightly at the force with which Spike slammed down the receiver.
It was just tiredness, but Giles felt ill all evening, hardly sleeping at all that night. He went out for his usual walk in the morning to try and physically exhaust his body enough for his mind to stop working. It began to sleet as he was out, and he got soaked and badly chilled. When he came home, he lit a fire and sat in front of it for a couple of hours, listening to the radio. Something was so badly wrong that he actually felt tearful. As grown men do not sit in front of fires, crying, he held it all in, but that only made him feel worse. By the evening, he felt exhausted: bone-weary tiredness that made him too tired to want to attempt sleeping. He did not relish the dreams that might come when he was asleep. He did not want to lie alone in his bed feeling like this: he feared the decisions he might make even more than the dreams.
Just after midnight, he decided to call Buffy again to see if she had seen or spoken to Spike since the telephone call. Early evening for her, she was getting ready to patrol. It was the perfect opportunity. 'Are you meeting up with Spike, by any chance?'
'Giles! You know….'
Giles interrupted her as a loud banging sounded on the door, but she continued brightly, 'Oh, there ya'go. That's probably him now.'
Time slowed down for a moment; Giles distinctly felt his head move in slow motion as he turned to the sound of the knocking. He put the handset back in its stand and went over, still moving slowly, out of real time.
He opened the door. Spike was leaning on the wall, facing back out into the garden. He had a small holdall at his feet, and he was smoking: blowing long, slow mouthfuls of smoke out into the misting night air.
Giles turned away from the open door and went back in to sit by the fire. Tears that had threatened all day burst forth, and he sobbed two deep, body-shaking sobs, until he bit them back and got himself under control. He heard noises in the kitchen, and when he was sure no sign of the emotions that were tearing him apart were visible, he went in slowly.
Spike was standing at the table where he had placed his holdall. He turned to look at Giles with a strange, challenging look. Without taking his eyes off the human, he reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle of whisky. He banged it down on the table. Giles winced slightly at the sound but kept Spike's gaze. Spike pouted and put his hand back in, producing another bottle, then another. Gradually the table filled up with an eclectic assortment of alcohol. Finally, a dozen eggs joined the collection. For the first time, Giles dropped Spike's gaze. He shook his head sadly. 'I am completely at a loss now, Spike, and none of that helps at all. What on earth do you think you are doing?'
Spike smiled, but the look sent chills down Giles' back. 'I'm not thinking. That's the first of many things I'm going to tell you tonight.'
'Yes.' Spike turned away and rummaged for a large bowl. When he found one, he put it forcefully on the table.
'We're gonna do some talkin', but first we're gonna do some drinking.'
'No. We are not. I nearly killed myself last…. What am I saying? Let me start again. What the hell are you doing here? Are we still arguing? You said we were over, Spike! Bloody hell, you write to me that we're over, you tell me we're over, but you turn up like this. You can't do this to me. You said we were over! Over!'
Totally ignoring all of this, Spike began pouring. He watched Giles the whole time with that same confrontational look.
'You may as well stop that; I won't drink any of it. This is ludicrous nonsense, Spike.'
Spike picked up his empty bag and his coat, and moved gracefully past Giles to the door. He went out into the night, shrugging on the duster.
'Hey! What the….' Giles ran out after him, cursing at the sludge mulching into his shoes. 'It's raining. Spike! I'm getting wet. Come back. Spike! Spike! Don't piss around like this. Stop. Please. All right. All right. I'll drink with you. God, Spike, I can't keep up. Come back.'
He could hardly see the figure at the end of the lane but, gradually, blur became solid, wish became reality, and Spike emerged out of the dark. He walked straight past Giles without comment, re-entered the house, reversed the procedure with the coat and bag, and continued mixing.
The eggs went in last. It looked the same. It smelt the same, and when Giles sipped at the glass he was given, he realised it tasted the same as well - even better, if that were possible.
He timed his slow descent from that point. He saw a dark maw opening up in front of him and watched his inexorable progress toward it. He had no choice: allow Spike to challenge and confront him like this, or surely lose him for good.
However, two glasses later, and Giles berated himself for being a theatrical wussock and couldn't quite remember why he was letting Spike bully him like this. He felt a strange (yellow) boldness creep over him - enough to risk the second option. He got angry - really angry at how Spike was messing him around, how Spike continually made him look and feel: Rupert Giles Pillock, Esquire. It made him so furious that on the first sip of his third glass he looked down into its yellow thickness, and then dashed it against the wall. It made a satisfying sound and an even more satisfying mess, but best of all was that Spike had to duck - that was just bloody brilliant. Giles lifted one eyebrow challengingly. 'What are you going to do now, Vampire? Why don't you try leaving again? See if I stop you now. Go on… it'll be fun.'
Spike pouted for a moment, toeing some of the yellow spill on the floor thoughtfully. He put his glass on the table and began to walk slowly toward the door. Giles watched in glee, desperate to have the chance to say, "Bugger off," but Spike stopped when they were level. He turned and caught Giles with a penetrating stare then suddenly caught at him physically: his hair, his face and around his neck. He plunged his mouth onto Giles'.
Caught completely off guard, expecting a triumphant cutting off his nose to spite no one but himself, Giles succumbed, embarrassingly quickly, to Spike's changed tactics. He moaned, sobbed slightly, and responded to the kiss. He grabbed Spike's behind and pulled him close, kneading his fingers into the jeans to feel the hard flesh beneath. As swiftly as he'd begun the kiss, however, Spike melted from him. He resumed his position on the opposite site of the kitchen and said, 'You'd best find another glass.'
Giles knew he'd lost. His entire body fired small signals of need across the room: penis swelling, face flushing, eyes dilating. Nodding resignedly, he took another glass from the cupboard and, slightly unsteadily, scooped it full of liquid.
They stared at each other across the room, both drinking equally steadily.
He couldn't exactly remember when but some time later, Giles needed to sit down and tried to do it without the needing part showing. He felt nonchalant and hoped it wasn't just the drink. Spike watched him without a single emotion escaping the shutdown he'd maintained since his arrival.
'I suppose you are going to tell me what this is all about one day - when you've had your fun.'
'Do you want me?'
The question startled Giles - as much by it's unexpectedness as by the slightly plaintive tone it was asked in. He didn't hesitate though in his reply. 'Have I really not made it clear enough yet. Good God, Spike….' He rose to move toward him.
'SIT DOWN.' Nothing plaintive in this and, puppy-like, Giles obeyed the command. 'What?'
'Tell me then, Human. What is it you want?'
'Oh, don't…. I'm really not in the best of moods to play….'
'This is not a game, Giles. I'm not playing. Tell me: what is it you want?'
'You. I want you. I want….' Embarrassed at having to discuss something so personal, something still so new and confusing, Giles blushed deeply. 'I want your body. I think I've made that clear. I like your company. And I'll remind you that I was the one who discovered that. In fact, I'll remind you again that I'm the one who's….'
'Else? Oh, God. Well, I like talking to you - sometimes. I like…. This is not fair, Spike; no one should have to do this… this analysing.' He reached over and busied himself refilling his glass, most of the contents spilling out over the table, forcing him to start again.
'Do you like this?'
Spike's voice was so quiet that Giles didn't register the question at first. Then it sunk in, and he looked up. He reared back, his chair crashing to the ground. The vampire, feral eyes blazing, fangs descend, features hideously distorted, watched him through the gloom.
'You're…. I'm not sure…. It's not that I don't…. Stop it, Spike. This isn't funny.'
'No. It's not. It's not a game, and it's not funny. It's me.'
'Semantics, Spike, you're playing devil's….'
'I am the devil - the closest you'll ever physically come to him, anyway.' As if to emphasise his point, Spike began to cross the space between them.
'You can't hurt me.'
'Do you really think I want to? Do you think hurt is what this is about?'
'Well, no, all right then. Let's stop this foolishness now, please. I'm not happy with this, Spike, you should respect my….'
'You've not respected one thing about me since this all began.'
Giles began to feel the anger once more and instead of retreating as he had been doing - one small step for each one of the vampire's - he stood his ground. 'Shut up. I've done everything, Spike. Everything to enable us to be together. I've taken a commission I didn't want to; I've spent money I could ill afford….'
'Jobs. Money. Flights. Cosy love nests. Plans. Human. Human. Human. Human. Human….' Spike continued to repeat this word as he came closer. Giles' courage fled, helped in its departure by nagging guilt and excessive alcohol. He backed up at the sound, each spit of the accusation making him wince. 'Human. Human. Human….'
'SHUT UP! Shut up, Spike. Please. I hear you. I don't understand….'
'Yes, you do. You bulldozed your way through everything in blind panic that you might actually have to stop and think what it was you were really shagging: this, Rupert. Vampire. Look on it, and see it for what it is. It's a dead body, Rupert. It's estranged from God and damned for all eternity. All eternity, Rupert… can you imagine what it's like to be soulless and have to face your damnation forever? Forever. Forever ain't something you wanna be, Giles. So look, Human, and see what you've had in your body. Look what you wanted to play human lovers with.'
Giles had backed up to the fire, and its heat burnt at his legs as he stood with nowhere else to go.
'Books, slayers, travelling, conversations, me in a job, paying me, setting me up in a little shag place. What was that all about? Trying to fit this into a real world, that's what. But this ain't real, Rupert. How can we be real, for fuck's sake? How long do you seriously think your plan would have given us?'
Giles swallowed deeply, and before he could take the words back, or wonder where they came from, he said angrily, 'I gave us 'til the summer.'
That stopped the vampire in his tracks, and he looked up. His expression, distorted by the demonic features, was difficult to read.
Giles felt the truth of what he had said, and a small crack in his faith in that detailed plan started to expand. 'You'd never have stuck the job….'
For a brief moment, Giles sensed that Spike wanted to smile at this but that he wouldn't let himself. Instead, he came closer so they were almost toe-to-toe in front of the fire. Giles clenched his jaw. 'So, you were telling the truth when you said it was over. I had hoped it was another game.'
'I told you, I'm not playing games.'
'But you're telling me there is nowhere for this to go?'
Spike leant in to Giles. The watcher thought he was going to be kissed again, but a cool, rasping tongue licked up his face. He flinched back, unpleasant shivers stabbing his spine at the demon's touch. 'What do you think, Pet? Did you like that? I'd bite you if I could; let you see if that's nice, too. How about this…?' Spike reared his mouth up with a hiss. It was like looking into the face of a King Cobra about to strike. Natural, uncontrollable, instinctive revulsion made Giles shudder. Spike giggled: a low, manic sound that set Giles' teeth on edge. 'The summer? You were bein' optimistic, Human….'
Spike took a pleased step back and bent his head to the lighting of a cigarette. Giles breathed slowly, amazed he was still living - given that his heart had stopped, broken by the truths born with those small touches and fed by the vampire's words.
In the peace of the moment, he watched the lowered blond head. He tipped his head on one side and looked at the mussed curls drying scrunched from the rain. He pouted and looked down at Spike's hands on the lighter. He had an ink stain on his finger, and one nail was bitten raw around the cuticle. Giles took his glasses off, cleaned them a little then put them on and looked again. On one hand, Spike had written Giles' telephone number. It was smudged from the rain, badly written as if the pen had not worked well, but still readable.
Giles began to laugh. Spike looked up sharply. 'What?'
Giles shook his head and continued to laugh. When his glasses began to slip on the wetness, he took them off and held them loosely in one hand. Spike started to repeat his angry question but, suddenly, totally unexpectedly, Giles reached out with his other hand and pulled Spike to him. He kissed him ferociously, out of control mouth and hands.
The lips felt the same.
The mouth tasted the same.
The vampire's soft moans were identical to the ones he had dreamt of in every sleep since he'd left Sunnydale.
The hands on him felt the same.
The hard bulge pressing into him felt the same.
The hair entangled his fingers just as effectively as when he'd thought of it as human hair.
Spike pulled away, hissing. 'What is this? Look at me.'
'No. Come back here again.' Giles grabbed the defenceless vampire and pulled him back.
Spike wrenched away and, in the force of the action, tripped and fell. He didn't rise but laid his forehead to the floor. Giles watched in dismay as the vampire's cool, nonchalant façade shattered in front of him. He began to bang his head on the rug. Giles fell to his knees and held Spike's shoulders, trying to prevent him hurting himself. He was taken aback by the agony in Spike's voice. 'It was so good. We were so powerful, and I was never alone, never lonely, ya know? But then he saw me for what I really am.' Spike lifted his fearful visage and held Giles with his glowing amber eyes. 'He saw me - my creator - an' he wouldn't even touch me. I revolted him….'
'But, Spike, that was all so long….'
'An' then this.' He banged painfully at the side of his head. 'She came back for me. All I ever wanted - her darkness - an' she came for me so we could be a family 'gain. She knew how much I need that, see? But… oh God…!' His face slid back to human, the change so rapid, so out-of-this-world, that Giles felt his stomach roll slightly as he saw it. 'She saw me like this - so pathetic, such a whelp - she 'ad to chew me food for me 'fore I could 'ave it. So, she left me. See? Do you see? No one wants me! Can't be human, can't be a vampire. Poor Spikey. Where do I fit in?' With a wail, he slid back and began to bang his vampire features into the rug once more. 'When I saw you fallin' for me, when I thought you looked at me special like… I thought you saw this. You knew this. I thought you wanted me… like I really am. But you didn't. Not really. But I let it go, ya know? I was so lonely that I let it go, just to keep you for a bit longer. An' I thought if you saw me as a man, then I could be one. But it ain't gonna work. I can't do it, an' I'm gonna lose you like I've lost everyone else.'
'Spike, my God, Spike, stop it, please. I was there all along, remember? I saw you before your chip, and I saw the change in you after. I do see you… I can see you….'
Spike reared up. 'I revolted you just then when I touched you. Your skin crawled to be touched by such evil.'
Giles sat back on his heel and replaced his glasses. 'Yes. It did. I admit that. But you've never seen me with a streaming cold. You've never seen me… actually, you have seen me vomiting, but we all have different faces, we all….'
'This ain't the equivalent of a bleedin' cold! This is the absence of the ability to be good. I'm pure evil….'
'If that's true, why do… why did you want me?'
Spike grabbed the front of Giles' shirt and pulled him closer to his demonic form. 'Do. I do want you. I came 'ere, didn't I? I'm prostrating meself like this, ain't I? And here I am again, wanting someone I revolt! Cus it didn't start with Angelus…. God, before him, she…. I wanted her so much. I thought about 'er all day an' night. I wrote bloody poetry to 'er, but she saw right through me. Saw I weren't a real man…. Even then I didn't seem to be what anyone wanted. Beneath 'er. That's what she said. She said I was beneath 'er.'
Giles looked down at the hands holding him and, once more, the small grubby ink number entranced him: Spike's lifeline on his long, desperate journey. All the intense emotions of the fraught evening coalesced into that small mark. He wanted to keep Spike so close that he would never need such a lifeline again. Suddenly, he banged Spike's arms away. He stood and dragged Spike up by the front of his shirt. 'Shall I show you need, Vampire? Beneath me? Yes, beneath me…. One smirk, one slow lighting of your cigarette, and I fell, and all through that long falling, you were there… beneath me and waiting for me.'
He used his superior weight and forced the resistant figure back onto the couch. Spike hit back but screamed when his chip fired off.
Spike's body felt identical under Giles as it had that last time he had lain on it in Sunnydale. He rocked slightly on the hard, slim form before returning to the mouth he could not get enough of. Spike, still recovering from the pain in his head, tried to turn his mouth away but to no avail: Giles only held him firmer and forced his mouth open with his tongue. Desperate, aroused, Giles pushed carelessly, and his tongue brushed against the tip of one fang, slicing open like butter to its demonic edge. He pulled back slightly, blood filling his mouth with it coppery, teeth-grating taste. He stared down at the feral eyes. They were an incredibly beautiful shade of amber. He felt like drinking them, wanted to lick them. Blood dripped out; the mouth reared open again and hissed as the tiny red drop splashed onto an eager tongue. Giles groaned at the thought that he was feeding this creature.
Softly now, he put his hands to the demonic visage. He brushed the pad of his thumb over the ridges on the forehead and dipped swiftly to give Spike a tiny taste of his blood - just a taste before he pulled away again. He explored the shape of the nose and the mouth… then the reward again. Finally, he spread his fingers wide over the whole face and bent slowly toward the desperate mouth. He allowed the vampire to take his tongue deeply into his cooler one. He felt strong sucking: Spike trying to pull the blood out by force. Giles tensed and lifted his mouth and, with only a tiny hesitation, ran his tongue along Spike's fang once more. Plunging back onto Spike's mouth was so good that he felt no pain from the wound, only deep delight when the blood flowed freely into the waiting vampire.
Spike mewed and moaned softly as he fed. A cool hand slipped between them, and Giles felt his zip being slid down. He smiled against Spike's mouth and, with a profound sense of joy, felt a small smile twitch at Spike's lips. The hand found him, running through his stiff, wiry curls, pressing into his erection. Spike slid his other hand up under Giles' shirt and stroked it over the bare skin on his back. Giles enmeshed his hands in Spike's hair and pulled hard enough to make Spike moan in pain.
Eventually, despite skilful manipulation by Spike, Giles' tongue stopped bleeding. He sat up a little and looked down to where Spike's hand disappeared into his open zip.
Spike gave a small sigh as if debating something. He slipped back into his human face and began to remove his hand. He grunted when Giles slapped him. 'I didn't say you could do either of those things.'
The blue eyes stared at him, confusion lowering the smooth brow. Giles lifted his hand as if to strike again, and Spike slid, almost unconsciously, back into his demon form. Giles nodded and slipped carefully from the couch, so as not to dislodge the hand.
It was awkward, he but he managed to release Spike's erection from the old, faded jeans. He only dislodged Spike's hand when he knelt to this stiff column.
Giles took Spike into his mouth - no finesse, he was desperately proving a point and tried to swallow Spike whole. He twisted his face to see Spike's, checking on the amber of his eyes. Spike began to respond to the mouth on him. He sat up and spread his legs, pulling Giles onto him further. Giles shuffled forward on his knees and experimented how far he could take the head down his throat. Bent slightly to Spike's groin, he was too constricted and began to gag a little.
Spike immediately stood, forcing Giles' neck up, stretched. The vampire's shaft now slid down the warm, slippery throat until the ridge began to rub against him. Spike entwined his fingers in Giles' hair, pulling small strands free then grasping it again. He started to sway his hips in time to the bobbing head, and a low moan escaped him.
Giles cast his eyes up and saw feral yellow ones staring down at him. On one level, it was what he wanted but, on another, it terrified him, and he closed his eyes. The shaft had almost become familiar over their short relationship and that had not changed at all: still entirely human.
He felt Spike stiffen against him; the hands stilled their restless encouragement in his hair. He knew what was coming: Spike. The vampire tried to pull away as he always did in Giles' mouth, but Giles clamped his hands to Spike's backside and held him in. He pulled his mouth right back to the tip, then plunged on with long lip strokes up and down the quivering, engorged column.
With a demonic howl, Spike began to release shots of cold cum into Giles' mouth. He had not expected so much. Cold, salty thickness filled his mouth, dribbled down his throat and escaped the seal of his lips on the cockhead. He stretched his throat, took Spike deeper and swallowed him and the cum together.
The vampire's cries turned into agonised sobs as the last of his orgasm rolled into Giles' mouth. Spike eased himself free and dropped to his knees, resting his forehead onto Giles' thighs. The watcher looked down as the taste of the vampire's cum almost overwhelmed his senses. He ran the soft pad of his thumb over Spike's hairline, tugging at the too-long hair until Spike sat back on his heels
They stared at each other for a long time until, with a small nod, Spike slid back into human form.
The silence deepened and became slightly tense, but then Giles smiled shyly and said, 'Am I allowed to say that I prefer you like this?'
Spike twitched his lips then cupped his hands around Giles' neck. He ran his thumbs over the warm skin, his eyes roving restlessly over the human face. 'You are so special.'
Giles' eyes widened, and he blushed furiously. Spike shook his head. 'Don't. It's true; why shouldn't I say it? What you've done tonight… no one's ever been able to do it. No one's ever accepted me.'
Giles ducked his head modestly at the praise and said slightly sneakily, 'But I prefer you like this….'
This time, the small twitch sprung into a full grin. When Giles saw it, with a long, slow blink of relief, he said, 'I think I can start living again now. I stopped, by the way, when you said we were over.'
Spike pouted. 'Yeah. Me too….'
Giles slapped him playfully. 'I want to take you to bed now.'
Spike raised his eyebrow in surprise. 'Uh huh. You're gettin' bold an' manly all of a sudden.'
'I think I am. I think it comes of realising you are fucking a demon.'
'Bed? You have some work to do now….'
Incredulous, Spike allowed himself to be led by the hand up the stairs. Giles undressed him and made him stand naked while he slowly undressed, too. Both naked, they stood for a while kissing, feeling over their bodies and building up the sense of anticipation.
Spike crawled onto the bed first, turned and beckoned to Giles. The human climbed on and rose darkly over the pale body. 'Fourth time?'
Spike smiled. 'Yeah.' He lay back and spread his legs, but Giles lifted them and put them over his shoulders instead. Spike frowned slightly at the odd associations of the position, but when he saw the look on the human's face as he stared at his exposed hole, the vampire bit back a refusal. Giles took his erection in his hand. All the tension since Spike had arrived had swelled it to a thick ache. He was leaking an astonishing amount of precum, and he transferred it with his thumb to Spike until Spike's hand snaked out. 'Don't. Hurt me, please.'
Giles didn't question the vampire. He watched Spike's face carefully and stabbed in.
Spike tore, and he cried out at the unexpectedly sharp, intrusive pain. Knowing he wouldn't want him to stop, Giles continued to push in, forcing his thick shaft deep into the unprepared rectum. To seal the bargain they had made that night, he put a hand to Spike's balls and began to play with them roughly: enough to cause considerable pain to a human, a great deal of discomfort to a vampire. Then he began in earnest on the pale body. He thumped himself into the tiny hole. He stretched, pummelled and tore it out of shape. Blood flecked the pure white sheet; blood coated him thickly; blood made his lover lose his human façade once more. Giles hammered into a vampire but, after an initial flicker of shock, he closed his eyes and felt not a jot of difference at the change.
Eyes closed, he could lose himself to his thoughts. He allowed Spike's human face to play in his mind. He pictured them on the bed, saw the curves and the flatness, the strength and beauty of their bodies. He leant forward and put his hands on Spike's lifeless chest, listening to an absent heartbeat, feeling the stillness. The feel of an erect nipple bud soon distracted him, though, and he played with it, forgetting to think about an absent pulse.
His thrusting became more even: slow, delightful pumping. When he eventually opened his eyes, he had his preferred Spike back. Spike had his eyes half-closed. His arms were lifted above his head, and he held onto the bedrail, easing himself in delight onto the pumping shaft. Giles groaned at the thought of the pleasure he was giving Spike and, between his thrusts, when he could get voice, he panted out, 'I'm going to increase the amount of humanity you have in you, Spike.' With that, he let his sperm fill the vampire. Having just swallowed him, Giles was acutely aware how much more cum the vampire produced than him, but it still seemed an age that he shuddered against Spike's hard backside. It still seemed that time slowed in the room as his warm sperm left him and swam around in Spike's cold body.
Before he could pull out, Spike clamped very determined arms around his waist. 'Stay in. If I lower easy like, you can stay in.' Easing his legs off, Spike pulled Giles higher onto his chest so the flushed face tucked into the hollow of his neck where his pulse would be racing if he had one.
Giles twitched the duvet over them both before falling into an exhausted, but short, sleep. When he woke, he was still in Spike, and he chuckled against the cool chest. He brought his hand up and began to play absentmindedly with Spike's nipple, teasing it and pinching it just hard enough to raise a small hiss from its owner. 'Spike…?'
'Do you remember Dracula?'
'Uh huh. Am I gonna like where this is going?'
'Why don't you let me go there, and then you'll see…. Do you remember how he had Xander in his thrall?'
''E had Harris in a lot more than his thrall, Pet, but the whelp don't remember.'
'Bloody hell…. Anyway. I was wondering if… if sperm acts the same as vampire blood… I mean, if I swallowed your blood, I would be in your thrall… does it work the same for sperm…? I was just wondering…. And if you do that you'll dislodge me.'
Spike stopped laughing. 'I don't know, Pet. I don't think it's really come up before, if you get my drift.'
Giles continued his interesting game with Spike's nipples: just seeing how far he could go before Spike reacted in pain. 'Spike...?'
'Hmm. This gonna be better than your last?'
'Do you…? When you…?'
'Just ask, Mate, yeah?'
'Do you feel more… evil… when you are… in your other face, so to speak? Don't. Don't. I'll fall out.'
'Jeez, Luv. I feel more evil when I put on me duster, so… yeah!'
After a while, Giles sensed that Spike had fallen asleep, but he didn't want to lift his head to see. He risked another quiet, 'Spike…?'
When Spike replied once more with a soft 'Hmm?' Giles remembered how peaceful and self-contained the vampire could be. He wondered what Spike thought about when he was still like this.
'You were right, you know. I did try to repress what I knew you to be. It's why I came back here. Why I wanted you to stay. I knew there was no demon life here - it's one reason why I choose this place. I knew if I got you here, you'd become….'
'In a way. Yes. More acceptable.'
'As a lover.'
'Yes.' Giles risked a glance up and saw blue eyes and cheekbones that set his bowels on fire once more. He felt himself swell in Spike's rectum and saw Spike's eyebrows rise with interest. Unbelievably, embarrassingly, tears sprung to Giles' eyes, and he buried his face back into Spike's neck. 'Sorry.'
Spike held him as the tension of the night worked its way out of the human body. He ran cool fingers up and down his back and through the sweaty tangle of hair, still quiet and still composed. Finally, Giles got himself under control and took a deep, calming breath. 'I want you: body, mind, lack of soul, awful sense of humour, bad taste in lovers… the whole package. But I've never loved a vampire, or a man, before, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do.'
Spike lifted Giles' face. 'I've never loved a human man….' They both waited to see if he would add to this; he stared at Giles, seeking something. He appeared to find it, for he added softly, 'Before.'
Giles sagged, his whole body now free of tension he hadn't even been aware was there. They came together in a long kiss. Some barrier that had kept them two individual people had been crossed when Giles accepted the demon in Spike. The human felt his body melting into the vampire's until their separate identities merged: Spike becoming more human, he becoming more demonic. Individually exhausted from travelling, fighting, sex and alcohol, they both fell asleep, Giles' face pressed into Spike's neck and his penis lying dormant but still inside the vampire's body.
Waking was slow, delightful and full of sex. Spike half woke to feel Giles hard inside him, rocking slightly, just enjoying the sensation. He dozed off again only to wake and find Giles fast asleep. He grinned, stretched against the warmth enveloping him and played with his own cock for a while. Giles woke with his face inches from a purple-tipped cockhead popping in and out from a pale foreskin. He began to rock again at the sight. He put a hand over Spike's. 'Good morning.'
'Yeah.... it is good.'
Giles moved his hand and touched the tip of the weeping cock with his finger. He brought the precum to his lips, the taste making him kneel up and pump into Spike with renewed energy. Groaning faintly at the loss of the warmth, Spike nevertheless increased his efforts on his erection. He put a hand out and found Giles'. 'Come together?'
Giles nodded - no idea how to achieve this, but happy to go along in theory. He closed his eyes to concentrate but soon opened them, missing Spike's face. He placed his hands on the indentations of the slim hips so his thumbs could press into the root of the vampire's cock for him. Spike hissed a pleased, 'Yesss,' and switched his fist to just the bulbous head, rolling it up and over the glistening ball.
Giles' orgasm came quite swiftly. He cried out that he was near his climax. He looked down at Spike, and for a fraction of a second, he missed the yellow eyes. For the briefest of moments, he would have liked the vampire beneath him: the illicitness of something so inherently wrong spicing, flavouring the sex. He saw Spike's eyes widen, and Giles knew that the vampire had sensed his thoughts. Spike arched his whole body, as if a jolt of pleasure shot through him and then reached an incredibly powerful climax: cum arcing up and hitting Giles, only to rain down onto his own cool body.
Giles released with less, but it gave him just as much pleasure. He shuddered against Spike, watching avidly as his penis throbbed its load through the tight anus and deep into the receptive body. He rode in and out, glistening in the early morning light.
Too soon it was over. He pulled out: the first time his penis had been outside Spike for over twelve hours. He felt the loss of the contact but chuckled and lay heavily on the vampire to catch his breath. Spike was quiet as usual. Giles glanced down at him. 'You heard, didn't you?'
Spike was quiet for a long time, thinking. Giles felt a tension grip his belly again, his heart found it difficult to calm in his chest. Eventually, still staring at the ceiling, Spike said quietly, 'I think that for the first time, being beneath someone is an okay place to be.'
Giles was silenced, the intimacy of Spike's confession making words between them unnecessary. After a while, Spike slid out from beneath him and rummaged on the floor for his cigarettes. As he was smoking, he said, with an edgy tension in his voice, 'So, Rupert, we've come full circle. Have you thought yet? 'Bout us? Are you coming back?'
Giles had rather expected this question and was surprised it had taken Spike so long to admit what he'd been thinking. He propped himself up on one hand and watched the vampire's face in profile. 'No.'
Spike frowned and turned, but before he could speak, Giles raised an eyebrow and said, 'No, about the thinking, Spike, not no about the coming back.'
Spike pouted, and Giles added quickly, 'The lack of self-awareness? The belief in the now? Just demon shit, I know, but it's important - to me. '
Spike turned his face to Giles, his eyes dilating. He groaned and pulled the human to him. Sneakily, Giles asked, 'So, have you thought what you're going to do? Are you going to….'
Spike chuckled, and joined in the game, 'Dunno. Don't care. Maybe we should….'
'No, that doesn't sound much like fun. I suggest we….'
'Ain't gonna do that. That's bollocks. Let's….'
'No need. I've been there, done that. How about….' Spike answered this one with more than words though and through the kiss Giles murmured, 'No plans ever again.'
Spike didn't reply but held him slightly tighter - if that were possible. Giles let him, and in those strong arms he felt completely at peace, no thought for anything more productive than running one idle finger over Spike's smooth chest.
This day was their eternity, and Giles did not look to what lay beyond. No plans, no future; it was a leap into the dark. He smiled inwardly at the thought of this new falling: free-falling, flying, and beneath him, ready to catch him if he failed, was this strong lover.
It seemed a pretty good option, given that there was nowhere else he wanted to be and nothing else he wanted to do. He turned his face to the window, his cheek resting on one cool nipple, and looked out at the world beyond. It was bitterly cold, the wind was gusting around the snug cottage and, as usual, being England, the rain continued to fall.
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