Giles did, and Spike straddled his thighs, making sure he did not disturb the sheet that covered the human below the waist. Giles pillowed his head on his folded arms and turned his face to watch the fire. Spike rested his hands lightly on the bare skin of Giles' back. 'Happy now?'
'Oh, yes. I am boldness personified.'
'Pillock. It's my first time, too, remember? Kinda suits me, too, ya know?'
Giles felt that he was lying but was grateful for the pretence, nevertheless. Spike climbed off and fetched something he had discarded with the towel. He climbed back on, this time sitting slightly higher on Giles' backside. He opened a bottle of oil and poured it all over the warm human skin. Giles twisted his head slightly, frowning. 'What's that…?'
A deep groan escaped him, and he never finished his sentence, as Spike's strong fingers began to probe into tense muscles in his neck and shoulders. 'Nice?'
'Yes. Very. Bloody hell.'
Giles felt slightly drunk: the room seemed unnaturally warm; he felt unbelievably mellow. The deep massaging of his muscles made nerve endings tingle and fire off.
Spike worked Giles' shoulders for a while, leaning into the deep muscle rubs, using his powerful thumbs to seek out tension and relieve it. The oil warmed as rapidly as the room, and Giles even felt sweat pricking along his forehead as he kept his face turned to the fire.
It was incredibly quiet in the room, just the softest sound of skin on skin and the occasional shift of a log on the fire to disturb the sense of deep peace.
Spike spread Giles' arms in a crucifix and began to work down each in turn, running hard down the sleek extensions from armpit to fingertip.
When he'd done the arms, he moved to the top of Giles' back and shifted down slightly to get a better angle. The sheet slid with him, and he sat on Giles' bare thighs.
The only sign Giles gave that he was now naked was a slight, additional flush to his already heated face. Spike paused momentarily. Giles maintained his silence of assent, so Spike began to move down the warm spine, pressing each knob with a thumb alternatively, until he reached the small of Giles' back.
He placed both hands squarely, one on each cheek and kneaded into the firm flesh. His thumbs began to work again but, this time, only to dip into the shallow crevice. When he pressed, it was gently on a sensitive area of skin just below Giles' entrance. The human shivered at the touch, and this small betrayal of his desire made Spike smile. He took some more oil and allowed it to pour down the crack. Only when all was glistening and slick did he use his hands to part the cheeks enough for him to see his goal.
Spike sat back on his heels and wondered how anything could look so perfect for penetration: perfectly round, exquisitely tight - it suddenly seemed odd to him that he had not tried this long before now.
He scratched the tip of one nail over the hole, just out of idle curiosity and smiled again when Giles made a distinct sound of pleasure. With a small smirk, he left the cheeks parted and ready, but moved on down to work and relax the human's legs. When he glanced up, Giles had now lost his sleepy, safe, fire-lit expression and had twisted his head down to watch him. The look was anything but sleepy or safe. Spike raised an eyebrow cheekily. 'Getting' in the swing of it now?'
Giles nodded but did not reply.
Spike slid right off him, knelt between his legs and lifted a foot. He began to work a toe, but Giles suddenly snatched it away, the action only spreading his legs more.
'Go back to where you were. I liked that.'
Spike looked up innocently, and obediently slithered back up to work Giles' shoulders. With a laugh, Giles flipped him off and pinned him to the bed by the simple expedient of lying on him. 'You provoke me until I can't think straight sometimes. You know where I meant.'
Rolling his eyes and looking abashed at his stupidity, Spike took hold of Giles' fingers and began to work them. 'Sorry, Mate, only I'm kinda new to all this….'
'Spike!' Giles took Spike's hand and stretched the arm around to his backside. He pushed the fingers toward his entrance and tickled them over it. He arched up on Spike at the sensation. Boldly, he grasped one finger and pressed it hard to him. On the slick oil, it popped in. He opened his eyes, surprised then alarmed when Spike pushed it right in until his palm rested on one hard cheek.
Giles swallowed nervously. 'Just wait a minute. It feels very strange. I'm not sure….'
Spike wriggled it fractionally. Giles arched back once more 'Okay. Don't wait. Do that… oh… again. Good grief.'
Spike slid out from under him, displacing the finger, and resumed his former position, kneeling between Giles' legs. This time, however, Giles relaxed more, opened his legs, and let Spike have access to him. He felt something cold being brushed over one cheek and twisted around to see Spike introducing his erection to the slightly open hole.
Spike eased his foreskin away, revealing the flushed, bulbous knob. It was at least four times the diameter of the hole, and they both stilled momentarily at this discovery.
Giles finally said, with an amused chuckle, 'We know it's physically possible. Let's see if it's actually pleasurable, shall we?'
Spike nodded, still unconvinced at the physics of it all but - with a leap of faith - began to press hard against the apparently impenetrable muscle.
Like butter touched by a hot poker, Giles parted to Spike's penis, the edges of his anus stretching and welcoming the intrusion. They both gasped: Giles at the intense feel of the stretch, Spike at the pressure and stimulation on his sensitive head.
Giles put a hand around to stop him for a moment, but there was no need: Spike stilled his entry with just the head buried in. He pushed one of Giles' thighs up to give himself a better view and just sat back on his heels, looking slightly stunned. ''S like it's meant to go there, innit? All tight and… bloody hell, just fucking great. You?'
'It's very odd - nice, but odd. It's making me think of more: of movement. Yes, stimulating those nerves there is making me think of nothing else but you moving inside me. Can you do that?'
Spike only leant forward slightly in preparation to try but, hard and slick as he was, that slight movement caused him to embed deeply into Giles' rectum. Simultaneously, they both cried out; Giles' hand flew back, and he dug his nails painfully into Spike's arm. 'Stop! Again. No... stop! God! Let me get used to it!'
'Oh, yeah. Not moving here. Bloody hell, but that's good.'
'Uh huh. Can you see? Look Giles. Look at us.'
'I can't very well like this.'
Spike pulled out. 'Turn over.'
Giles groaned but turned as ordered, banging Spike's arm in annoyance at the interruption. Spike laughed, caught at him, and then bent to his ear and whispered, 'I get to go in again now.'
Giles relaxed and looked down. Once again, his body opened up to Spike as the vampire entered. This time, Giles watched the blood-red tip ooze against him just before entry. He saw the angry, swollen cockhead disappear, watched each inch of the pulsing column slide into him and saw, incredulous, his anus stretched like a gaping, eager mouth around that solid shaft. He could only watch in silence - until Spike moved. Then he broke his silence with a loud gasp of surprised pleasure.
Giles lay back and stretched his arms up to grasp the iron bedrail. Spike began a slow, even pumping inside Giles' channel. He watched Giles' expression carefully, trying to anticipate pain before it undid them both but was surprised (and intensely flattered) to see nothing but exquisite pleasure on the human's face. He wrinkled his brow slightly as he worked himself, finally risking breaking the mood by saying, 'Can't be that good; no need to put it on for me like.'
Giles' eyes flew wide. Spike was stunned by the dilation of the pupils - a reaction he knew could not be faked.
Giles tried to speak and finally panted out, 'I didn't know. How did I not know this? I am a man. How did I not know I could feel this in there?'
'I can't… when it's your turn… oh, bloody hell, just stop talking and let me concentrate!'
Spike huffed a little but got back to the unexpected pleasure of bringing himself off in Giles' arse. He still couldn't believe how right it felt: how tight, which, after all, was always right.
He crested to release and came swiftly in the warm channel, milking himself against Giles until he was spent. He pulled out and lay on his belly. Giles turned over as well. Spike looked at him.
'No. Not yet. Close.'
Giles turned to Spike to reply; Spike shifted forward slightly to give him a small, apologetic kiss; Giles responded absentmindedly to the kiss. The kiss deepened. Still tingling from his orgasm, Spike felt deep, unguarded emotion. Giles, so close to his, felt urgent, hungry desire. Spike raised his hand to push his fingers into the damp, longish hair at the nape of Giles' neck, and then nothing was clear anymore: nothing was watched, thought about, analysed or debated. It was just done. They tore at each other in a tangle of limbs. Giles threw himself on the invulnerable body, and slick with his own flood of precum, he found himself in Spike. He thrashed hard into the cool channel with abandon, needing release. Spike rose off the bed, his eyes wide with disbelief. Giles then slowed and drew it out for him with delectable, measured strokes. Spike began to whip his head from side-to-side and moan. Giles, stimulated beyond reasoning by this blatant display, came in short, intense bursts of cum into Spike's rectum
When he collapsed, Giles' panting rent the air. His heart thumped furiously in his chest, and he felt alive for the first time since leaving the warmth of Sunnydale.
He began to laugh and pulled Spike's hand onto his chest. 'I suppose you are not the best person to require artificial respiration from.'
Spike chuckled. 'Nah. I can smoke, but I can't do that - apparently. Fucking weird, or what?'
He turned on his belly and propped himself up, looking at Giles. A cool hand was replaced over the human's heart. 'How long will it take you to pack?'
Giles didn't reply for a moment then said softly, 'Tell me the real reason you can't stay, Spike. After this, I feel you must, or I shall live a half-life when you are gone. I had no idea such intense physical pleasure existed, and I'm a little bitter that I've wasted twenty years or so not knowing. Tell me: why won't you stay?'
Spike seemed engrossed with a small wound on Giles' arm and didn't reply for a while, but when he did, his voice was low and troubled. 'Cus I'll be on me own, Pet. I came to the Hellmouth cus I'd be at home. I need me own kind, Luv. Like everyone, I guess. Imagine if you had to live your whole life with vampires: doing vampire stuff. Well, I'd be like that 'ere. I'd be totally alone for me demon life. An' I do 'ave one, ya know. 'S important. To me.'
He looked up at Giles, his eyes sad, as if he was beginning to see a truth he'd have to accept. 'It's what you came back 'ere for, wasn't it? To be among your own kind. To drink hot tea with cold milk, to have television without adverts, to have weather, to have people around you who know that Howard's End ain't a gay porn novel. Oh, bloody hell.' He flung himself down on his back, searched around for his cigarettes and lit one, smoking it angrily at his own-goal.
After what seemed like an age, Giles asked, 'Which bits of demon life would you miss? Specifically.'
'Nothin' specific… hell, yes specific: the mindless violence, the lack of self-awareness, the belief in the now, the love of evil for its own sake - just demon shit, Giles. That specific enough for ya?'
'I could be all that for you. I'll be your demon world, if you stay with me.'
Spike huffed disbelievingly. 'Yeah.'
Giles sat up and looked at him. 'That's it, isn't it? I went about this all wrong: oil, baths, massage, fires, clean beds….'
'Err… I quite liked all that, Pet….'
'But it's not going to keep you here, is it?'
The pause was unbearable, but a soft 'No' finally extinguished Giles' tiny spark of hope. He nodded then took a deep breath and slapped Spike viciously across the face. Spike's cigarette flew across the bed; tears sprang unconsciously to his eyes from the power of the blow; blood seeped out from his split lip; his cock swelled, and the demon looked up at the human through narrowed eyes. 'You wouldn't dare.'
Giles punched him right off the bed: a solid blow landing on his temple.
Spike climbed slowly to his feet, only to find himself slammed into a wall and pinned there. Giles panted roughly into his ear, 'I'll beat down on you, Spike, if you want this. I'll give you what you need to bind you to me. You've never seen my dark side. I'll plunge you down onto it; I'll make this place your own personal Hellmouth - if only you stay with me.' He began to twist Spike's arm up behind his back, until they both heard tendons popping. Spike gasped at the pain, and when Giles released him slightly, he sank to his knees. He grinned, and then made a dash for the door.
Surprisingly fast, Giles tripped him up, and Spike crashed inelegantly out onto the landing. One more push, and he tumbled in an ungainly heap down the stairs. Giles ran down, two at a time, and straddled the prone vampire. Spike's cock was standing angry and proud. Giles' jutted out from his body, recovered. He fell onto Spike, and they kissed, Spike's blood strong in both their mouths. 'Hurt me some more.'
Giles nodded and stabbed two fingers into him, without preparation or warning. Spike winced and arched up. 'Jesus.'
Spike only nodded, his eyes closed to dark pleasures. Giles stabbed his cock in to replace his fingers and tried to hurt Spike with the power of his thrusting. Gradually, however, the softer side took over once more: too much pleasure from this act to maintain the fiction of pain. Giles knew it really wasn't working when Spike put a hand onto his face and said, 'Come together this time?'
Giles nodded and watched Spike working his cock as he rode in and out of the tight, wet hole.
He would have held out longer, feeling rather perversely that if they didn't share orgasms, Spike would feel his vampire nature fulfilled and stay with him. It was a forlorn hope: not only because it was illogical - he just couldn't hold out anyway. His balls contracted - tight and hard. His penis began to throb. He felt himself swelling in the tight rectum, and at exactly the same time as his tightness shuddered into Spike in hot spurts of release, cold cum shot up into his face, wetting his cheeks and teasing his lips.
Giles groaned, as much from relief, as from the knowledge that his small Hellmouth had failed miserably to materialise. Spike seemed to feel this, too, for he put a hand to the back of Giles' neck and pulled him down until the human lay warm and heavy on him.
'Hey, come on, Mate. It was a really good demon moment there for a while. Particularly liked the falling down the stairs… thanks for that.'
Giles chuckled, despite his better intentions. 'I just had the impression - from all the bruises I discovered this morning - that I might have done that in the missing days, too.'
Spike was silent - consideration himself.
Giles said suspiciously, 'What?'
Spike winced. 'I think that may 'ave been when you got 'it by the car.'
'What? You didn't say anything about cars! What car? Hit? When?'
'Calm down, Pet. I only remembered when you shoved me into the wall - it sorta came back.'
'You insisted on getting rid of me car - evidence or some shit - and we pushed it. You slipped. Wheels and screaming are kinda vivid.'
'Oh, God! I hope no one saw us.'
Spike nodded thoughtfully. 'Yeah, 'specially as we did it naked.'
Giles sat up. 'What? Oh, God - again. And what an inappropriate day to keep saying that. But… oh, God. Why?'
'Well, I only 'ad me one set of clothes an'… I don't know really. Seemed funny when you thought of it.'
'Oh, God! How far away was the car?'
'Dunno 'xactly. Seemed like a bloody long way by the time we got it 'ere though.'
Giles opened his eyes wide and sprung up, slightly shakily, wrenching open the front door.
He stood there, naked once more, not moving, not speaking.
Everything was white; everything was still; everything was achingly beautiful. While they'd played, it had snowed: the peaceful descent of the soft, white chill covering every flaw. His trees were outlined in snow: every branch wearing white like icing. The grass was smooth and white, the wall topped with the smooth substance. Giles stepped out, disregarding his nakedness. He felt the call of the snow: its seductive voice like a siren's call making him want to run in it, to play in it, and to be again the untroubled child he had once been. He felt a sense of deep mystery fall over him; for the first time, the significance of the day struck him. It was Christmas, and it had snowed: a small miracle just for him.
He chuckled ruefully at his own foolishness and closed his eyes to the beauty. He was a grown man. Snow was cold and wet and stopped the trains. Snow caused accidents and sent up your heating bills. The prosaic realities of life made him begin to feel the deep chill. He sighed at the inevitable loss of childhood's wonder and turned to go in.
He screamed and doubled over.
A huge snowball had landed squarely on his still warm penis. Furious, he looked up at a grinning Spike who raised his eyebrow questioningly. 'Get dressed?'
Giles straightened. 'Why?'
'Cus we're goin' out to play. What'd'ya reckon?'
'No!' He paused. He grinned shyly. 'Yes. All right.'
Hellmouths forgotten, they raced upstairs to dress, flinging on anything they could find. Not dropping the other's gaze, they stared challengingly, amused and aroused by each other. When Spike had on an odd, ill-fitting assortment of Giles' clothes, he went to the fire and, with a grin, chucked on a large number of logs. 'Reckon we'll be cold when we come back in….'
They tore back downstairs and out into the still, white world.
Giles turned and tore back upstairs, followed curiously - and slightly angrily - by Spike. 'What the…?'
'Spike. I recently discovered that I own a property worth slightly more than three-quarters of a million pounds. I have no intention of warming myself, later tonight, on its burning embers.' As he spoke, he fastened a thick iron fireguard around the entire space, not leaving a crack for stray embers to end his newly discovered mercenary streak.
They tore back downstairs and out into the still, white world….
Giles shrugged himself further into his jacket and looked around in wonder at the so-unfamiliar sight. 'What shall we…?'
'Err, I'm not familiar….'
'Like crop circles, but better. Come on.' Spike made Giles begin a slow pacing around in a large circle on the lawn. He began to pace in the opposite direction. After a few minutes - at the completion of the first circuit - they met, face to face. Spike laughed at the human's expression and took a step into the circle. 'Again.'
Once more they paced around. This time when they met up, the circumference of the circle was looking a great deal more distinct. Giles opened his mouth to speak, but Spike silenced him with a kiss. They stepped in and began again.
When he was a few paces away, Giles said, with genuine puzzlement, 'How do you think the other ones get made?'
Spike didn't hesitate. 'Witches.'
Giles sighed. He couldn't let that go, as much as he felt he ought to. When they met once more, he said, amused, 'I am so glad I asked this - not - but… witches?'
Spike grinned. 'Well, yeah.' He took the obligatory small step in and began to pace away, gesturing with his cigarette. 'Remember that tracer thingy you cut out of me?'
Giles didn't reply. At the next meeting, they were both silent, just staring at each other: each had remembered the flare of passion the other's body had engendered at that small touch. Giles stepped in and paced on, lost to confusing memories of touching Spike's naked back. When they met again, he shook himself. 'Yes, I do.'
Spike grinned. 'Remember the witch then.'
'Ah, yes, Willow's spell to ionise the air.'
''Xactly. See? Witches. Sit in the cornfield and poof - there ya go: circle.'
'Ah hah.' Giles stepped in and began to pace, their own circles now getting tight and short. 'That explains everything, but… explain why they are in the cornfield in the first place?'
Giles choked slightly. 'Lesbians. All of them? Uh huh. And they need the cornfields…?'
'Dunno. But they're always in 'em in the good films, ain't they? So, little friction, little activity of the horizontal kind and, poof, as I said, massive bloody circle.'
'Oh, good theory. I'm not denying that.'
At the next pass, Spike grabbed Giles' face and kissed him, but before the human could respond, he pushed him away and said, 'Keep going. When this one's done, we can do the fun bits: the planets and satellites.'
'Oh, God. Why?'
Spike laughed. 'Cus we can. Come on.'
They paced in silence for a while, until Giles, who had clearly been thinking deeply, said shyly, 'I've never understood the attraction of lesbians, if you see what I mean.'
Spike laughed. 'You've been watching the wrong films, Pet.'
'No, that's not what I mean. I mean, what do they get out of it? It's a mystery to me.'
'Oh.' Spike took a long drag on his cigarette, also looking thoughtful. 'I'm not so sure it's what they get out of it, but what they avoid - if you get my meaning.'
'Well, yeah. Guess.'
'But they do it themselves, don't they? Err… strap on things?'
Spike eyed him suspiciously over the great work of art. 'Yeah. Your point?'
'So, it's not the penetration, per se, they don't like.'
'Huh. No. Guess not. Jeez, putting this in a whole new light, Pet.'
Giles didn't miss the sarcasm; he just ignored it with a slight huff. 'So, it comes back to my original question - what do they see in it?'
'Okay, then they just like looking at all the bits and pieces, just like we do.'
'Yes, but we like to look at breasts because we don't see them very often. They just have to look down and… there they are - a whole, perfect set of their own. You'd think they'd tire of it all.'
Face to face at last, at the centre of their circle, Spike shook his head in weary tolerance of the human. 'So, like, you don't wanna see this then?' He put Giles' hand on the hard front of his jeans. 'Cus… you've got your own? You don't want me to do this…?' He undid Giles' zip and slipped an icy hand inside to his soft warmth. 'Cus… you could do this yourself?'
Giles' groan seemed to confirm that he now understood the attraction.
'Now, shut up and look.' Spike took Giles' shoulders and turned him, and the human saw, with wonder, that they were standing in the centre of a perfect circle: mysterious, ancient, compacted snow.
He chuckled. 'So, satellites?'
Spike nodded. 'Now yer gettin' in the spirit of it.'
By the time they'd finished, they had an unearthly, ethereal pattern covering the whole lawn. They stood together, admiring their handiwork: the large circle, then smaller ones exploding off in intricate, geometric patterns.
Giles laughed. 'Now what, interesting vampire?'
A snowball in his face seemed to be the reply. He ducked the next and got a good shot at the rapidly disappearing figure. He stalked nervously after him around the side of the cottage and got attacked from the rear. He spun, shouting in outrage but only got another, most of which went in his mouth.
Spike danced playfully away, pouting. 'Come on. You're no competition at all.'
Giles turned and walked away, his shoulders tense.
'Hey? Giles! It was just a…. Hey! Soddin'…!' Spike was more outraged at falling for the ruse, than at the snowball in his face.
It was war.
They scuffled, rolled, stuffed snow in warm places - sometimes in cold ones - shouting, laughing and, occasionally, screaming: whatever sound they felt like making in the snow's all-forgiving silence.
Giles, running from a huge armful of snow, skidded out into the lane and almost crashed into a small car. He groaned: small memories sparking in his brain at last. Spike skidded into him and dropped the snow. 'Huh.'
'You can report it abandoned if you want. By the time anyone investigates, we'll be long gone.'
Giles was not ignoring these occasional attacks; he just didn't know how to counter them.
He was given an unexpected ally. Suddenly, without warning, it began to snow heavily.
Giles spread his arms out and tipped his head back like a supplicant receiving grace.
Large plops of snow, quite un-English, fell vertically from the sky, and then more - millions - obliterating all but the nearest objects and showing them how temporary their carefully constructed artwork really was.
As if feeling the loss of the structure over which he'd laboured so long, Spike howled but then turned, and Giles saw from his expression that the vampire's outrage had nothing to do with snow circles. 'No! This ain't real, Rupert! It don't snow like this in England. It don't snow on Christmas Day - ever! Don't base yer decision on this, please! Rupert! It don't snow 'ere like this for real!'
Giles looked down sadly for a moment. 'But, Spike, it surely never does in Sunnydale.'