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The Games We Play - Chapter 2

Giles paused in the act of standing up, felt awkward hovering, so sat back down.


'Come on, Giles. You have a little problem there that I guarantee you'd enjoy more if I took care of it for you.'

'Spike, I really don't think….'

'Exactly… don't think… let you mind shut down for once… don't think about this… just do… do what you want for once… here… does this help you decide?'

Spike let the sheet slip a tiny fraction, and Giles saw the bright red mushroom-shaped tip of Spike's cock appear against his tight belly.

It was the first erect penis he had ever seen, other than his own of course, and he hadn't seen that for far too long. If Giles hadn't have been so all-consumed by the very rarity of his erection, he might have been thinking more clearly. He might have recognised a Master Vampire's hypnotic voice, and a Master Vampire's hypnotic eyes, but he didn't.

'What would you like me to do?' Spike slid seductively over to Giles, too experienced to touch him yet, knowing that Giles had to make all the moves.

Giles put his anguished eyes on Spike, and then looked down, helplessly, at his erection. Spike lay on his stomach, his head propped up on one hand. Such an innocent pose. Giles was fascinated by the smooth back and hips. He decided Spike was just as beautiful from the back, as he was from the front. But he had never thought Spike beautiful… had he?

Spike laid one cool hand on Giles' thigh and let him get used to that. After a long moment, he moved it up. Getting no resistance, he slipped it inside the opening in Giles' pyjamas. He felt the warm human erection, nestling in its nest of soft curls.

Giles groaned and made as if to get up and leave, but Spike's seductive voice held him back. 'Oh, it's very hard, isn't it? Do you want me to touch you here, like this?' Spike laid a cool finger on the tip. 'How about this here… hmm; that feels so solid in my hand; can I pull it a little? Look, Giles, look at my hand on your cock; you've pictured that for over six years, haven't you? Every night when you were alone, did you see this?'

Giles looked down. Spike had taken his cock out, and it was standing clear from the front of his pyjamas, Spike's white hand holding it in a tight fist.

'Shall I work it a little for you, luv?'

Defining moments.

What could he say?

Giles leant back a little and the single word 'Yes' formed like a tiny signal of surrender. He had acquiesced and knew he was lost now. He'd committed himself and was complicit in this act. But he didn't berate himself for long. He had not realised what Spike had intended, because the tip of his cock was now sitting at the back of Spike's throat. Spike had moved more quickly than Giles had been able to see and had taken his whole erection in one go.

This was the first time ever that Giles had been given a blowjob. Nice English girls he'd dated just didn't. Jenny had given a few unenthusiastic licks once or twice. She just didn't like it. The first time. The first time, and he was being blown by a creature that had been giving them for a hundred and thirty years, who had throat muscles that could crush a cock if he wanted, and who didn't need to breathe.

It was all too much for Giles. He felt a huge surge of cum leave his cock and hit the back of Spike's throat. He dug his fingers into Spike's hair, half-lifted himself off the bed to press harder into Spike's face, and then went limp, when he felt every drop gone.

Spike rolled away onto his back, totally uncovered and free of the sheet, and started to lick his lips. 'That was nice.'

Giles looked down at the grinning Spike. 'You did something to me… you manipulated me, hypnotised me.'

'Yeah… you were just thinking with your dick, mate, that's all. No magic here, Giles. Sorry to disappoint you.'

'God, Spike. How can you bear to do that? It's disgusting.'

Spike rolled on to his side and looked at him incredulously. 'That was your first time, wasn’t it?'

'Why do you say that?'

'Jesus, you'd put anyone off with that attitude… I guarantee you any lass even thinking about going down on you, and you'd just make 'er feel dirty.'

'Well....' Giles felt defensive. 'It is dirty. I'm sorry, it just is, and why another man would want.…'

'Ahh, but I'm not a man. Am I?'

'Anatomically you are.' That was fairly obvious to Giles.

Spike saw the direction of his gaze. 'You are allowed to look… don't be embarrassed, Giles.'

Spike took his cock in his hand. 'See, just like yours… only bigger course… and I can stay hard all the time, if I want to.…'

'…you can't.…'


'…can not.…'

'…wanna bet?'

Spike had pitched the humourous banter just right. Giles relaxed a bit and moved to sit further in on the bed.

'No. I read it in the Watchers' Diaries… that is a complete myth. Vampires do not have permanent erections… how could you?'

'But I've got one now though, haven't I? Touch it, Giles. It won't bite. Bit like me really.'

'I most certainly will not.'

'Look, just put one finger… here, on the tip. Feel it; it's like a woman's clit. Close your eyes and imagine it like that.…'

Giles put a tentative finger on the end of Spike’s cock and felt the icy precum slick under his hot skin. He moved it around a little and felt a tingle of anticipation in his balls, when Spike groaned and arched slightly to his touch. When Spike let out a hissed ‘yesss’ Giles felt his balls actually contract and his flaccid penis start to swell again. That had not happened to him for over twenty years. Two erections. He felt the blood rushing out of his brain once again, all rational thought leaving him.

‘Taste me, Giles.’ Spike’s low voice again seemed to hypnotise him. He bent down and placed a hesitant tongue over Spike’s tiny slit, and tasted the little drops of fluid now leaking out in a regular pulse.


This one word from Spike excited Giles more that anything else that night. It was so masculine; it brought home the illicitness of this act.

Spike put his hands on the back of Giles’ head and very clearly tried to indicate that he wanted more. Giles sat back a little and studied him. His eyes were closed; he was arched slightly off the bed, and he was utterly beautiful. Man or woman, it didn’t matter. He was beautiful, perfect. And he was here; he was aroused and, for some inexplicable reason, he wanted him. Giles felt a surge of sexual power swell in him. He’d never had a woman so uninhibitedly begging him like this. It was erotic. Then Spike opened his eyes and said, ‘Please’, and Giles felt himself falling into a deep, dark place where there was only this pale creature and his pleasure. He put his mouth over Spike’s penis and sucked.

‘Oh... fuck... hot....’

Giles smiled around Spike’s shaft. Hot indeed... so, he licked his hot tongue up the swollen rod, and groaned himself when Spike again hissed, ‘Yess.’ He flicked his tongue over the tip and rubbed his hot lips around the ridge. Spike took hold of one of his hands and guided it to his balls. He had never cupped another man’s balls in his hand. Spike’s were smoother than his and heavy; he squeezed perhaps a little too hard, for Spike sat up, his incredibly strong abdominal muscles pulling him upright. He wrapped his arms around Giles’s head and helped him find a rhythm with his mouth.

‘Taste good, Pet? Like the feel of that cold pole, hey? Use your teeth... fuck yeah... squeeze again as you do it... yeah, again... that’s so good... you’re so good at head... that sound good Giles? Head... you’re giving me head, all these years, hey... all the fighting, and all the times we’ve been... fuck... do that again.. .all those times, and you’ve been wanting to go down on me... haven’t you? Well, there you are... good head, Giles... shall I come for you? You up to that? You look up, Pet... all hard again and weeping, want me to take care of that for you in a minute? Love to... if I cum for you, will you swallow Giles, or do you want it on you... soaking you? Shall I cum on your face or on your cock? How about your hole, like that? Fuck, I’m cuming... can you feel it.. .oh... oh... Jesus... suck some more... Christ, so hot... ahh....’ Spike flung himself back on the bed.

Giles felt the cold sperm like a jet against his throat. It came in short hard spurts. He tried to picture it and knew, with utter clarity, that he would not finish tonight, until he had watched it shooting from Spike’s cock, until he could watch Spike bringing himself off and covering himself in his own cold seed.

He swallowed.

It tasted good.

It tasted like familiarity and a promise of things to come.

He kept swallowing and licking and sucking. When he looked up, Spike had an arm thrown over his face, as if for privacy. He was silent and had been for a while.

‘Are you all right... was that...?’

Spike nodded.

‘Oh....’ Giles sounded disappointed. Don’t we all want feedback when we think we’ve done something worthy of it? Before he could turn away, he got feedback. More than he’d been expecting. Spike sat up and took his face in his hands and kissed him, so passionately he was pushed onto his back on the bed.

Somehow, this seemed more intimate than what he’d just done. Kissing, even with a woman, was intimate, sexy, and loving.

And it was… Spike kissing him. It was… Spike running his tongue around his mouth, opening his own mouth wide, as if trying to swallow him. Spike. It was unbelievable. The last part of his cock filled and was close to bursting. He kissed back. He put his hands on the back of Spike’s head and pulled him down close to his face. He had a startling image of them both on the bed, as if he was seeing this from the outside. He was aroused by the way they looked. He wished he were naked, too, wished Spike were lying on his bare skin. He was extremely alarmed when Spike slid his hand to the buttons of his jacket and started undoing them.

~"Can he read my mind?"~

~"SPIKE... you are a wanker"~

Spike pulled away from the kiss and, for a fraction of a second, Giles thought he could see a flicker of mirth in his eyes, but maybe it was just a reflection from the lights. Spike slid Giles’ jacket off his shoulders then bent down and pulled off his trousers.


He was naked, just as he had wanted.

~"kiss me some more, Spike"~

Spike came back up to his face for a kiss.

Giles had never been kissed so long and so passionately. He literally lost himself in it. There was no ‘him’ left, there was only body and arousal and Spike.

They rolled over, so Giles was on top, and that felt better for him, more right. He was amazed at how different Spike felt under him than on top. On top, he’d been leading, dominant, and forceful. Now he seemed soft and pliant and needy and, with a frisson of excitement, Giles realised that Spike was playing roles to amuse himself.

Giles was just himself, just 'Giles' whatever happened. Spike was switching personas in his head. It was as if he was now playing a woman. Giles shook himself slightly. Perhaps he was imagining things.

Spike’s hand then snaked out and caught Giles' wrist, and guided it very firmly down to his groin. Giles thought he was going to be encouraged to hold Spike’s cock, so was slightly panicked to find Spike lift and spread his legs, putting Giles’ hand against his anus.

Giles reared back and sat up away from Spike. Anus. He actually heard that word in his head. ‘No, I’m not doing any of that.’

Spike stretched luxuriously like a cat. ‘All right, Pet, whatever you say. Come here though, I miss you.’

Giles was lost to this creature, this thing that shifted personas in his mind. He was lost to the bitch. He lay down alongside him and felt Spike’s arms reach for him. Felt Spike’s hand starting slow sensual strokes on his back. ‘Smell this.’

A tub of hand cream was slid under his nose... Vanilla... he groaned: Buffy’s smell. ‘Nice, ain’t it... want some?’ Spike didn’t wait; he took some and started rubbing it over Giles’ body. He knelt up and worked Giles under his hands. Giles turned over onto his stomach to prevent Spike rubbing the cream on his cock. He was having a hard time with the memory of vanilla on a lithe body. Remembering pert teenage breasts moving under a sweaty singlet. Vanilla. Shafts of sunlight in the training room and the, ‘thuwmp’, ‘thuwmp’, ‘thuwmp’, of her fists on the punch bag that had echoed the thumping of his heart. How he had longed to stretch out a finger and place it on one of those hard nipples. How he had wanted to rub it around, pinching and pulling, so it would stand proud against the thin cotton. How he had wanted to wipe the sweat off that body, gently lifting the T-shirt over her long blond hair and feeling her perky breasts against him. How he had longed for his cock to be able to swell when he held her as she did the splits, her cunt flat and inviting. He had ached to be able to plunge it into her hot vagina, but no erection would ever come. Perhaps guilt had kept him flaccid.

‘It’s not like with a woman.’ Spike’s low voice brought him back to the bed, and he realised Spike was rubbing cool hands over his buttocks, parting them slightly, creating a delicious friction between his cock and the bed. Two erections in one night. He was blessed.

‘Giles... it’s better... believe me.. I know.’

He mumbled, ‘What?’

‘Being in a man, it’s better.. .it’s tighter... you can thrust harder and when you come, it stays tight.’

‘Shut up, Spike. It’s disgusting, and I’m not doing it.’

‘And you can make your partner cum too.’

‘Rubbish, it’s not designed for that.’

‘Deep inside, Pet, it’s like a button that’ll switch you on.

‘Shut up, Spike.’

‘Tell me this doesn’t feel good.’ Spike was dragging his finger over Giles hole, holding his cheeks open with his other hand. The cool lotion made a delicious slickness. He felt as if every nerve end was focused on that tiny, closed over hole.

‘There now. Isn’t that good?’ Spike had pushed the tip of one finger in and just left it there, not moving it at all. ‘Makes you want to scream, doesn’t it luv, and beg for more. Want it deeper and harder, don’t you? I know.’

‘Yesss....’ Again, Giles had been seduced but... oh, the feel of that finger made his cock sing again and his balls throb.

‘Will you come for me?’

‘Yesss....’ The finger started moving. Pushing, pulling, more lotion pushed in – a handful of lotion eased up by that finger, then two,

‘Hmm, nice stretch. Like that? Feel good? Told ya. You ready for something more then, Giles?’ Spike allowed his fingers to rub over the small swelling in Giles' passage.

‘Oh, Spike... again... Spike... ahh.’ He had had no idea. Spike’s fingers had flicked a switch, just as he said they would: like a connection deep in his body that had never been made before. Deep in his bowels, he felt the erotic charge pass from that tiny swelling straight to his balls. He came in a surge of cum soaking into the mattress. Spike kept up a fairly hard rubbing with his fingers, milking Giles against the mattress.

Finally, he sensed Giles was spent, eased his fingers out, and slid up to half-lie on Giles' back.



‘Better than you thought.’


‘Wanna do it for me?’ Spike licked across the back of Giles’ neck and tickled his ear with his tongue.

Giles felt flooded with Spike. He was being soaked by his presence in this bed. He was being washed away. ‘Come on, Giles, feel how hard I am; you wanted to watch me cum, didn’t you?’

In his arousal, Giles did not notice that Spike referred to a desire he had not spoken aloud.

‘Please....’ Again, he could not resist that soft pleading. He rolled over on his side, and Spike nestled his back against him, spooning them together. Giles propped himself up on one elbow to look down at Spike. He smiled; he saw again that Spike was playing games with himself... he was the little boy now, snuggling in for protection. Unbelievably, it started to make Giles hard again. He put his hand on the cold, hard cheek of Spike’s ass. It was like touching marble. Spike pushed his top leg forward in a scissor shape, exposing his hole, and pushed the jar of lotion at Giles.

He scooped out a generous amount on one finger and just placed it to Spike’s hole.

‘Yesss... rub it for me, luv. Hard. You can’t hurt me.’

Giles wanted to be rough with this boy. He’d been very bad. He’d come into his home and seduced him like some cheap rent boy. He was a whore, a tease; he deserved to be hurt. Giles slapped Spike on his raised cheek: a hard, unexpected smack, the shocking sound reverberating in the silent flat. Spike hissed and twisted his neck to catch Giles’ eye. ‘Again... harder.’

They kept eye contact as Giles hit him again and again. He’d never had the chance to do this. Oh, how he’d wanted to hit them all sometimes. How he’d wanted to feel her flesh under his hand sing to him. He closed his eyes to concentrate.

‘Giles, I’m sorry, don’t hit me.’ The soft sound of Buffy’s voice nearly destroyed him, until he heard, under the incredible mimicry, the sly tones of a clever demon. But when she begged him not to hit her it just set his desires free. He sat up and slapped her across the face, then felt her arms come up to catch his wrists and pull him down, and it was only when their mouths found each other he remembered that this was not Buffy, but Spike… but he was not disappointed.

He lay on Spike and kissed his mouth, his eyes, and his ears. He moved down, kissing his nipples, biting them. He was free now, all his restraint gone in the hard contact of his hand hitting that willing flesh. He had crossed the barrier. He reached Spike’s cock but ignored it. He’d done that. He moved on, lifting Spike’s thighs to find that elusive hole. He looked at it for a moment: so pink on the shockingly white flesh. So small. He put a thumb over it and rubbed it. Spike groaned and moved a pillow under his hips.

~"bitch is getting ready for a good fucking now"~

New words for him, new thoughts, new feelings. He wanted to ram himself into that hole. He dipped the end of his cock into the tub of lotion. He groaned when he felt Spike’s hand come down to help him spread it around.

He put his cock against Spike’s hole and, for the first time since hitting him, looked him in the eyes. Spike was grinning at him. ‘Are you ready?’


He pushed in.

Spike had been right, of course he had. It was so tight, he felt his cock harden and swell. It was so tight, his balls seemed to collapse in on themselves in pleasure. ‘Giles.’ Spike’s low husky voice thrilled him. ‘Giles... you can let go, mate... you can’t hurt me... all the times you’ve wanted to do ‘em proper, but couldn’t... but you can’t hurt me... but Giles... I want you to try... please....’

So, Giles tried to thrust Spike through the back of the bed. He tried to crush him on the end of his cock. He tried to burst through and puncture him. All his fury, all his repression, all his loneliness and need put into those thrusts. And the thing under him reveled in the thrashing.

The natural gentleman in Giles disappeared on a sea of need. His body responded to the hard unbreakable thing beneath him. He pushed Spike’s legs over behind his head, and Spike hooked his feet under the rail of the iron bedstead. Giles was awed by his suppleness. Giles had nothing but the smooth, hard flesh of Spike’s backside under him. He felt as if he was thrusting down into the earth, as if his cock was some great drill raping the land itself. His balls were tight and painful; he feared he would be unable to have release; he dreaded that dry shuddering that sometimes had to suffice as an orgasm. He tried to concentrate on the feel of the tight walls around him, tried thrusting some more, felt despair welling up inside him when, suddenly, a cool hand clamped around the back of his neck. Spike released his feet and laid them down, pulling Giles down on top of him, so he lay on the cool, hard belly. His thrusts became long and slow.

‘Look at me when I come.’ Spike mouthed this soft command to Giles, and he realised he had his eyes tightly shut. When he opened them, he saw Spike beneath him, his eyes a deep, rich blue. Spike had started soft, sensual circles on the back of Giles’ neck, as Giles lay gently thrusting. Spike’s other hand reached down between them and formed a fist around his own cock. Giles raised himself up slightly.

‘Come on, Watcher... watch this.’ The quiet, seductive words coiled around Giles. He looked down and saw Spike’s penis, swollen and weeping. The head was an angry purple, and a copious stream of precum leaked from its tiny slit.

‘That’s your work, Giles. You’ve done that. Looks good, hey?’

It did. Giles no longer feared a dry, unsatisfactory release. He felt the floodgates opening in the core of his body, and his hot seed erupted into the cool channel that enclosed him.

With a groan, Spike thrashed his head and sped up his fist, rewarding Giles with the sight of his cold seed shooting up into the air between them to splatter back onto Spike’s belly and over his fist. He was running in cum, its opaque wetness catching the low lighting from the hallway and glistening over Spike like early frost.

Giles continued to thrust into his own hot seed, until he felt a tiredness seep up from his feet throughout his whole being, and he collapsed, gasping for breath on Spike’s wet body. Had he actually remembered to breathe the whole time he’d been thrusting into Spike? He couldn’t catch his breath now; it was ragged and harsh, something only magnified by the still, unbreathing creature beneath him.

He lay on top of Spike like a blanket. Every inch of his body in contact with Spike’s, even his toes seemed entangled with Spike’s somehow, every pore in his skin sucking in Spike’s essence.

He was exhausted, emotionally and physically, and felt like weeping, so he did. He couldn't help it. He had been broken and remade, but he did not know what shape the mold had formed him in. He was lost and found. He was destroyed and saved. It was too much for the quiet, bookish man in him. All the emotion flooded out in hot tears that dropped onto Spike's cold chest. After a moment, when all he could hear was the sound of his sobbing, he felt a strong arm snake around his back, and soft kisses alighting on his hair.

Was there the slightest hesitation in Spike, when he heard this heart-rending, unmanly sobbing? He did pause, as he laid his hand on Giles’ back and said quietly, ‘I know you hate me.’ Giles lifted his tear-streaked face to Spike. Spike had his arm thrown over his face and his head turned away. Giles wondered, for the briefest of moments, whether this was one of his games, but felt a sadness descend over Spike’s whole body. Giles put a hand on Spike’s arm and tried to draw it away from his face. It was like trying to move rock. Eventually, Spike relented and let him, his arm dropping onto Giles’ back.

‘I don’t. I don’t hate you, Spike.’

‘Why are you crying then?’ Spike added with a rueful smile, ‘I don’t usually get that reaction.’

‘I’m sorry, but this has been a bit of a shock really. I think I must be overwhelmed.’

‘Oh, that’s better then. Overwhelmed is good, right?’

‘Yes, Spike. It’s good. It’s very good.’

‘So... fancy being overwhelmed some more?’


‘Well, come on, I’ve still got a little problem down here, you know.’

‘You can’t have! You’ve just... well I’m lying in something cold and wet, and it’s not mine!’

‘Told you, Pet, constantly hard when we want it.’

‘Can I change my mind about being turned then?’

Spike knew he’d won him back and grinned. ‘Never make that offer to a vampire, Pet, even in jest. Who knows, if you invite me, maybe this chip won’t work.’

Giles visibly went pale, and Spike just laughed.

‘You can invite me in another way though.’

Giles knew exactly what Spike meant and actually felt a throb deep in his bowels at the thought of being filled and taken by Spike. Could he be taken? Like a woman? He wanted to try. But he lowered his head onto Spike’s chest and fiddled gently with one dark brown, swollen nipple for a moment.

‘What’s wrong, Pet?’

‘I’m... err... a bit worried... you’re rather big and....’

‘Hmm, that’s nice... think I’m big do you? Here, put your hand on it, just to make sure. I’ll be gentle, luv... kind of have to, remember? I don’t fancy getting my head split open, cus I split you open, if you see what I mean.’

Spike’s hand had drifted down Giles’ back 'til it was lying in the crack of his ass; he moved his other hand slowly down and parted Giles' cheeks, rubbing one finger over his hole.

Suddenly, Spike slipped out from under him and knelt behind him, between his legs.

Giles didn’t want to do this. He felt it was demeaning, animalistick and he didn’t have a lot of confidence in his body viewed from that angle. But he felt a cold tongue alight briefly on his entrance and so wanted to feel more of it, that he rose up like an obedient puppet to his master’s command. He bent his chest down to the bed, sticking his backside high in the air and was rewarded by the feel of Spike’s tongue again, lapping at his hole.

How was this possible? How was he finding this most unnatural of acts so overwhelmingly erotic? He felt the licks of that tongue tingle in his finger tips, felt his own mouth wet in response and, unbelievably, for the fourth time that night, his cock started to twitch to life. Not erect, just a satisfactory throb and soft swell.

The licking got harder and, once or twice, Spike pressed his tongue against the hole, as if testing its resistance and then, on one lick across, Giles felt the cool tip push through, opening him up from the outside for the first time in his life. He hissed, ‘Yesss,’ and felt Spike mouth into his hole,


The tongue went deeper, probing, and then a finger, covered in thick cream joined in, pushing in alongside the tongue. When the finger was fully in, the tongue was withdrawn, and Spike sat back on his heels, his arm stretched out joining them together. He put his other arm around Giles' chest and lifted him, so he was kneeling too. In this position, Spike could push the finger deep into Giles' bowels and work it round. Giles gripped onto Spike's arm, as if it were a life buoy.

He started panting, and then felt Spike rub across the swelling near his prostrate again. His eyes flew open, and he threw back his head, hitting Spike in the face, ‘Sorry, but again... fuck Spike, rub there again.’

Spike’s mouth rested lightly against Giles’ ear. ‘Good, isn’t it?’ His finger swirled around and around on the little nub. ‘Sends you round the bend, doesn’t it? Say fuck for me again Giles; it really turns me on.’

Giles let out a strangled, ‘Fuck,’ and Spike’s tongue flicked out and licked his ear in time to the rubbing in his passage.

‘How about I do this with something else, luv, make it good for me too?’

For the third time that night, Giles complied, ‘Yesss,’ and felt the finger being withdrawn. He groaned; he’d been on the edge of his orgasm and wanted to jump into it.

‘Bend over again.’

Giles felt the cold, wet tip of Spike’s cock against his hole, then an enormous handful of cream being rubbed around and, riding on this viscous substance, Spike started pushing in slowly, inch by inch.

After each tiny push, he stopped, and let Giles’ hole stretch and accommodate him. It took about fifteen minutes for him to embed himself fully. It was the most stimulating fifteen minutes of Giles’ entire sexual experience. He realised that he had been empty his whole adult life, filling others, when he should have been filled himself.

When Spike was completely in, he pulled Giles back up against his chest, wrapped his arms around him and started the merest of movements. The little swelling in Giles’ channel was hardly stimulated. He knew Spike couldn’t afford to hurt him, but he wanted more. A lot more. He pushed Spike’s arms off him and put his head back down onto the bed.

‘Spike....’ He could not say the words, did not have the confidence, but Spike understood. He rose up higher and started working Giles’ slippery hole, building up the thrusts, jerking from side to side to work that spot, thumping his hard cock in.

‘Say it again for me Giles, say fuck... turn me on again.’

Giles groaned. ‘Fuck Spike... fuck.’

He felt Spike speed up. Unbelievably, Spike’s hand crept around Giles hips and grasped his cock. It was still only semi-erect but, at the touch of Spike’s hand, it stared to swell and grow. Spike pulled the foreskin back then pushed it away, creating friction over the sensitive tip. ‘Come on Giles, come for me Pet... I’m gonna fill you... do you want that? Do you want my cum inside you? Tell me, Pet, I need to hear your voice.’

Giles didn’t speak but put his hand over Spike’s on his cock, rubbing his finger over the back of Spike’s hand, helping him, working the cock with him.

‘Oh yeah, I like that, luv. Work with me... shall we come together... like that? Come on then, Pet, you should see my shaft in your ass, Giles; your hole's big now, isn’t it... does it feel full? Push back against me; try to push me out... oh fuck... Giles... do that again.’

Giles shivered with delight. If all the rest had been a game, if all the rest had been insincere, he heard sincerity in that last, hissed comment from Spike. Perhaps Spike had forgotten just how strong a human has to be down there and how hard Giles was able to clench his muscles.

He squeezed and thrust against Spike again, and Spike threw his head back at the delicious tightness and howled. Giles thrust back again, and Spike had to work him hard to stay in. Spike bent over his back and cried in a rushed voice, ‘Oh God... Giles... I’m gonna cum... Jesus, you’re so hot... I’m gonna fucking cool you off now... yeah, cool those slick walls, hey? Want me in yer body Giles, want my spunk.. .say it... tell me.’

Giles groaned out an agonised, ‘Want it,’ and felt Spike go rigid against his ass, twitching and jerking, as if being electrocuted. His ears were split by another deep howl, and he didn’t even hear the soft plop of his own cum, as it shot out onto the sheet.

To his deep, deep delight, he heard Spike panting against his back.

By now he was almost too exhausted to think. He collapsed flat on the bed, felt himself slipping away, heard that soft voice whisper in his ear, ‘Sleep, Pet... shall I stay in you, would you like that?’

‘Yesss.’ It was his last surrender that night and the best. He fell asleep with his hole twitching and throbbing around Spike’s softening penis. He felt filled in his body and his heart. Spike lay on top of him, spread out, covering him like a blanket of snow. Spike stretched out a lazy arm and pulled the covers up over them both, and Giles knew no more for many, many hours.

He awoke to the familiar sound of the early morning milk bottles being chinked together on his doorstep. How could that be? That was normal life. He felt nothing would ever be normal for him again. He was being pressed into the mattress by Spike’s weight on him. As his senses returned slowly to him, he smiled a deep smile; Spike was breathing heavily, his cool breath chilling Giles’ hot, sweaty back. He hadn't known vampires breathed in their sleep; it was erotic listening to him.

What had happened here? Who was he this morning? Whoever he had been, he was not that person now. Had he been bookish, introverted, quiet, safe, kind, hesitant? He didn’t feel any of that now. He felt revealed, stripped bare, reinvented… and this weight on him had done that.

Spike had brought a slice of his old life here, and it had exploded with a force that shocked him. He desperately wanted a shower. He could smell himself: stale old sweat and cum. He slid carefully out from the dead weight on top of him. Spike didn’t seem to wake, but his hand stretched out, as if to find someone. Giles looked down at him. He almost felt guilty. Spike looked hardly more than a boy. Giles felt suddenly very old. He made his way to the bathroom and soaked for a long time in a hot bath. There was not a bit of his body that didn’t ache, but it was all good aching: deep aching from fucking and thrusting and being thrust into. He closed his eyes and wondered what was to happen now. He wasn’t old; Spike wasn’t a boy. There was just the two of them and that big, comfortable bed.

He wandered back into the bedroom, naked. New beginnings. He didn’t think he would ever wear pyjamas again. They lay discarded on the floor where Spike had chucked them last night.

He longed to slip back into the warm sheets with Spike, to nuzzle into his cool sleepiness, to tease and touch his body to wakefulness, to explore and know that body in the daylight.

The bed was empty.

He went to go to the kitchen, felt naked, and pulled back on the discarded trousers of his pyjamas. If he felt himself to be back on a slippery slope to somewhere he did not want to be, he ignored that thought, and thought instead of finding Spike and bringing him back to bed.

Spike was in the kitchen, dressed, raiding the fridge. His bag lay at his feet. Packed.

Spike turned and looked at Giles over the rim of his mug. His eyes were completely unreadable. ‘Morning.’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Leaving. Train’s in an hour.’ Spike had his watch loosely in his hand and was passing it through his fingers like worry beads.

Giles felt a deep anger welling up from his belly.

‘What the hell is happening here, Spike? What has this all been about?’

Spike just shrugged with a slight smile on his face. ‘I told you, Pet. It’s hard being one hundred and thirty; you need to keep fresh.’

‘So what... I’ve just been a fucking prop to stop you sliding into sexual senility?’

‘Language, Pet!’

‘You didn’t seem to mind it last night.’

Giles felt himself to be on a precipice: on one side chaos, entropy, on the other, the upper lip he’d been stiffening all his life. He turned from Spike and said in a cool, moderated tone, ‘I’ll dress then and drive you to the station.’


Giles got to his bedroom. His legs carried him that far. If his knees buckled as he slowly shut the door, well, no one was there to see. If tears streamed down his face as he dressed, well, they were wiped away before he took Spike to the station. By the time he walked back into the sitting room, he was the perfect English gentleman he had been two days ago. He was even wearing his tweed jacked and tie.

‘Ready then?’

Spike didn’t reply but picked up his bag and followed him out. It was still dark; Giles could detect a faint streak of dawn in the sky to the east.

They were silent in the car. Giles kept his eyes and his thoughts on the traffic. He made sure he did not look at Spike’s hand or Spike’s thigh or Spike’s leg and, especially, not at Spike’s face, which he knew was turned toward him, studying him. However, at one junction, he had to look left to check for traffic and could not help but see Spike’s expression. Spike was looking at him with a smirk on his face… and Giles knew. In that instant, he knew he had been played. He saw it all: the conversation, the clothes, the nakedness, the promise of companionship in the pub; it had all been to seduce him… ,and how easy he had made it for him. He knew that Spike was sitting there, waiting for this realisation to hit him. Spike wanted to see his face when he knew he’d been played for a sucker. Literally.

Giles, though, had reserves of strength that were rarely tapped into. He dug down to find them now. As he pulled into the station, he turned to Spike, and said lightly, ‘Thank you for bringing the amulet to me. That was thoughtful of you.’

Did Spike look slightly taken aback by this response? It was hard to tell; the lighting in the car park was poor, and his face was in shadow. ‘’K, Pet. You okay?’

‘Of course, why shouldn’t I be?’

‘You tell me.’

‘No, I’m fine. I’ll go to the train with you.’ So he did; he climbed out of the car, willed his legs to carry him into the building, and kept them walking to the platform by the strength of his personality.

‘Goodbye then, Spike. Give my love to everyone at home.’

Spike tipped his head on one side and looked at him. His eyes were unfathomable, but the slightest frown creased his forehead. ‘What are you going to do now?’

‘What? Oh, I expect I’ll go home and drink some more tea and not do much shagging, as usual.’

This reply seemed to surprise Spike. He kept Giles’ eye contact, nodded, then fished out his cigarettes and lit one. Looked at Giles again, gave a long, slow drag, looked at Giles one last time, and nodded again.

Giles dug even lower and forced himself not to speak.

‘Well, okay. I’ll be off then.’

‘Goodbye, and thank you again for coming.’

Spike walked slowly away, swinging his bag in one hand. Giles watched his back recede... a few more minutes, and he could let go. A few more minutes, and he could let his body collapse, and his mind die.

When he could see the blond hair no more, he turned, and started walking back to the entrance. He felt a hand on his shoulder, turned, and found a cool pair of lips being pressed lightly to his. Spike dropped his bag, took Giles’ face in his hands tightly, and opened up his mouth against him, demanding entry with his insistent tongue. Giles was being kissed in the crowded train station by a man - or what would pass for a man in any nighttime exploration. Spike ran his hands around the back of Giles' hair, and then he pressed his mouth to Giles’ ear and whispered a few quiet words. Giles pulled away in shock, ‘Buffy?’

Spike smiled and put his mouth back again, completing his whispered message. He pulled away again to see Giles’ reaction and, for the first time, Giles saw a genuine smile cross Spike’s face. It illuminated him. Giles heard a very clear thought in his head ~ "you are adorable"~ but it was gone as quickly as it had slipped in… but in response to Spike’s words, he smiled as well. Spike laid one cool finger on Giles’ lips, picked up his bag, and turned to go.

This time he did not come back.

For the next few weeks, certain pubs in Bath had a new regular. They called him ‘The Gent’. He was so polite, so well dressed. But he had other names, too, for under his polite gentlemanly exterior he was desperate. He seemed to be always seeking a cock that was cold enough or hard enough, a body that would not bleed when he took it, and that could not be hurt. It was a lonely, unfulfilling search. It was those words… those last whispered words; they ran around his head and made him desperate. Those words drove him slowly insane. He knew there was only way to end the insanity… but he feared that almost as much as the path to madness itself.

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