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So... Currently sitting here with a head full of ideas, practically fuzzing around my brain like cotton balls. And nothing on paper. And so many other things I should be writing.

So, who wants to write comment!fic with me?

C'mon, you know you wanna.

I'll even start us off:

It was a dark and stormy night.

That probably should've been the tip-off.

But for Xander Harris, who knew better than to rely on the cliche when gauging the current safety of the Hellmouth, rain was never an issue. He'd spent nights in worse when he was young and too scared to go home, too prideful to ask Willow or Jesse for their couches yet again. And thunder had never frightened him like it should've-- though for a very long time he'd wished his father would get struck by lightning-- so to him it was all a light show, a fireworks display.

The spooky Hellmouth stuff happened on clear nights too. Clear days, even. So Xander was not at all suspicious of the ominous roll of thunder overhead, even when he found himself sopping wet and on the other side of town, with no clue of how he got there, and barely half a clue as to where he was. One minute he was leaving the cemetery, picking fledge dust out from under his nails, mind in a daze as it tried to focus on something that wasn't a certain bleach-blonde Brit, and the next minute he found himself here.

At "Bull's".

The most demon infested gay bar in Sunnydale.


( 40 comments — Leave a comment )
Jun. 28th, 2011 03:28 am (UTC)
Slumping down at a relatively clean space at the bar, Xander silently observed the clientele over his beer.

Two gay men probably together. Short, slightly shorter than Spike.

Talking to a single man, heavier. Blonde hair. (Not as bleached as Spike’s.)

Sitting next to extremely tall man sulking and glaring at his drink. Probably a demon in disguise – too tall, too lean, face awfully angled cheekbones terribly sharp. Looking directly at him now. Not as good looking as Spike.

Gentlemen clad head to toe in leather, trying to work up a conversation with too-tall man. Defiantly human. Losing his hair. Not looking as good as Spike would look in that outfit.
Xander downed his drink and motioned for another one. Somehow, some way, he needed to stop thinking about Spike.
Jun. 28th, 2011 04:25 am (UTC)

It was a dark and stormy night.

For some reason, the rain was less of a bother than the hot, dry air in this bar.

His stout was right, at least. Imported and dark as the current sky, the new moon providing very little reassurance that his decision to come here tonight was a good one. But new moons were never his friend. New moons brought back memories of a time when he'd put them to good use.

They'd made their best magic on new moons. Without touching runes or ancient tomes or anything but each other. Sometimes high, sometimes not. Sometimes in love, sometimes not.

Sometimes it would rain like this, and the thunder would mingle with his voice until every rumble sounded like Ethan in the sky, groaning "Harder" and "Ripper" and "More".

He took a long gulp of his stout.

There was a Kribblestyk at the bar, muttering to a couple of idiotic boys looking for a third. They'd be dead by morning, but at this moment, he felt like they'd be getting what they deserved.

After all, that's what you get when you try to play with hungry soulless things.

The thunder murmured "Ripper" again, and he clutched his glass, wondering when he'd stop hearing that voice.
Jun. 28th, 2011 06:17 pm (UTC)
Head buzzing with unwanted thoughts, Giles tried to distract himself by sizing up the clientele.

Extremely tall and gangly man with severely angled face…..probably finds lots of other-worldly friends to spend time with due to his unfortunate resemblance to a Yinthfar demon. Ethan would refer to him as “Deformis et raucus” (ugly and horny.)

Gentlemen in badly fitting leather jacket. Losing his hair. Ethan would refer to him as “calvus et deformis” (bald and ugly.)

Male or possibly female Kzbpe demon, not bothering with a disguise. Ethan would be ready to trade sexual favors for some bloodroot stones for fullmoon magic.

A short 3-fingered Suzopr demon, clambering up to the stool to engage in conversation with a human that looked strikingly similar to Xander.

“Body-double,” Ethan would have called him.

A deep sigh surprised the men around Giles, surprised even Giles himself. But the lad resembled Xander in more ways than one….the mop of hair begging to be stroked, the strong, muscled shoulders clothed in a rumpled shirt. The shoulders were slumped the same way Giles had seen Xander slump, in exhaustion or frustration, the kind of posture that made Giles
want come up from behind, maybe stroke some of that wild hair into place, even touch the hairs at the base of the neck, and ask his fellow ‘scooby’ what had left him feeling so defeated.

Which was a stupid idea.

After all, He was here to find a body-double substitute for Ethan From, not Alexander Harris.

* * * * *

The 3-fingered Suzopr demon clambered up to sit on the stool next to him of all the dignity of a man who considered his 4’7 height the norm and everyone else the freak. With both red hands on the bar he was quite comfortable with who he was and who he was talking to, and he started the conversation right away.

“So why did you come here?” he asked.

Xander’s day had been too long to be surprised by anything now. He gestured with his beer. “Drinkin’.. Why did YOU come here?”

“Breathing". Came the squeaky reply. “Told I hadn’t lived until I came to the hellmouth and breathed the air. But I’m about done with it…..gonna’ get back to LA and my nice sewer and get on with my life.

“So, word on the street is you kill our kind. Come here to kill our kind tonight?

“Not tonight,” Xander said.

“Then why ARE you here?” the little red man asked frankly.
Jun. 28th, 2011 09:59 pm (UTC)
He thought about it. Seriously thought about it, like he hadn't been asking himself that very question since he'd walked through the door. Turned the question over and over in his mind, beer sliding from one hand to the other. The sound was soothing, but not enlightening.

He thought about what Spike would say, mind painting a vivid picture of the vamp lounging against the bar, elbows digging into the sticky faux-marble bartop, usual sneer on his lips. Probably "M'bored", or something equally as petulant, because with a cigarette between his lips he could make petulant sound badass. Yeah. "M'bored", with the 'o' stretching out into the 'r', making it one letter, one sound that was more 'o' than 'r'. That fucking accent. He always had to sound so smooth.

But Xander didn't have that magical coolness capability, so took a long gulp of his beer and licked the bitterness from his lips. "Trying to drown the accent in my brain." He quipped, looking down at the amber liquid in his hands. "Or myself. Whichever comes first."

The Suzopr looked confused, three fingers tapping on the bar in rapid succession. "Accent?"

"The one that's calling me a 'bloody id'jot child'. His words, not mine." He smiled faintly at the memory, the way Spike's hands shoved him into the wall, lingering on his shoulders for a moment before returning to the fray. They'd been up against the usual demon-of-the-week, and apparently he'd gotten in the way. But the touch buzzed through him for a too-long moment, and he'd walked home in a blissful state of wanting, still feeling the ghost of its pressure.

The Suzopr smiled faintly. At least, it looked like a smile. Sort of. "Ah. English. Known a few in my time. Very sexy."

"God, yeah." He sighed, swallowing the last of his beer and waving to the bartender for another. "What is it with that accent? Makes my dick wake up and say 'hello'."

"Wish I knew." The Suzopr leered. "Older?"

"Much." He found himself grinning, shaking his head at his own pathetic attraction to danger. "Body of a porn star, swagger of a rock-star. Practically made of badassery."

The Suzopr looked suitably impressed. "He know about your little side-hobby?"

Xander scoffed. "Oh yeah. He knows." Then shut up, because he was supposed to be forgetting about Spike. Hell, he was supposed to be home right now, washing fledge out of his hair and clothes.

Thinking about Spike.

Fuck this... He sighed softly, turning to his Suzopr companion. "And I take it you're here to get laid?"

Jun. 28th, 2011 11:17 pm (UTC)
Suzopr scoffed. “I’m here because it’s pouring rain. During the day I’m here because I HATE this sunlight. No smog to dull it like in LA. I really hate it here. Tunnels and sewers aren’t friendly. I’m leaving tomorrow. I just came thinking you’d be paying to get some information…..the word on the street.

“Are you? Looking for information?”

“No, sorry.”

“Wanna get laid then?”

“No, sorry,” Xander deadpanned, gazing into the bar mirror,
the one showing about half the clientele that was actually present. He had realized it just now......having sex with demons was what he was here to forget.

“Your loss,” the short fellow said and clambered down the stool, disappearing into the taller crowd.

*** *** *** *** ***

Giles watched the exchange with amusement. He was out of his seat and headed toward the young man, even while Ethan was arguing in his head. “Your cheating on my body-double with the body-double of a kid? You whore. You can’t get your body-double to beg you to do it ‘harder’ like I can.”

"Fair point," said the voice in his head, then settled back into the distant thunder, growling "Harder" and "Ripper" in the distance.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

Xander was looking deeply into the depts of his beer. “Why AM I here?” he asked it, but it had no real answer.

“Bloody Suzopr demons, so very sure of themselves,” came an accented voice from behind him.

Oh God, not another Brit! Xander didn’t even look in the mirror. What was the point? There was probably no reflection, anyway.

Jun. 29th, 2011 01:07 am (UTC)
"Yeah. You'd think the height would be a self-confidence issue."

A hand rested on the bar next to his glass. It was large, with long, agile fingers, clean and pale, not even a speck of dirt beneath their nails. He watched them rest on the surface, avoiding a sticky ring of beer left behind hours ago, then looked away, because he may dig the accent, but he still didn't feel like getting laid.

"They make up for the height by being very eager." The accent chuckled, then raised that hand, calling for the bartender. Xander's eyes flicked to it again. It was an... older hand. Skin thinner and callused with work. In fact, each finger had a heavy callus at its tip. Sort of like the ones Jesse'd had from playing guitar.

He smiled a little, picking up his beer. "Something tells me I better finish this fast."


Oh? Did all Brits have to do that sarcastic little 'I am better than you, but I shall indulge you' voice? Even that one tiny syllable was enough to piss Xander off. And send his stomach to his feet like it'd just learned to bungee jump. "Yeah. So you can buy me another before you get bored and find somebody else to play with."

The accent's small chuckle gave him a hot little shudder. God. That laugh was confident, coy, and just a little bit dirty-- but enough to give him a taste of something that was so much better than the beer on his tongue. "I'm quite comfortable where I am, I'm afraid. So drink slow."

And yeah, there it was. The tone that made his pants grow a little too tight. Condescending, patronizing, but equally coy. Like he knew exactly who he was, and exactly what he wanted.


It was absolutely unbelievable.

The 'body-double' he'd wandered over to examine was a perfect match for Xander Harris. The hair was right, deep brown waves that drooped into his face in an unruly state of depression. The body was right, muscular and growing more so with his twin trials of construction work and slaying. Even the voice was right, if a little soft and understated for the usually boisterous boy. If he'd come here looking to fuck someone who looked like the young scooby, this man would've been the jackpot. Giles was fascinated.

Not that he wasn't always fascinated by Xander Harris.

In a friendly way, of course.

You see, Giles had never met a person so very unlike himself as this boy. They were polar opposites, actually. He'd grown up on the higher end of the economic spectrum, traveled the world at a very young age, became literate in so many customs and cultures that by the time he'd gone to London he could've gone anywhere else in the world and fit in just fine. Xander had been born in the less fortunate end, monetarily, and had never left this very town before his apparently ill-fated road trip after high school. Giles' parents had never raised a hand to him, simply expecting him to follow the track they'd laid out for him-- and he'd rebelled, running away to London, falling into the darkest evil he could find. Xander's parents had been animals, despite the many attempts he'd made to cover it all. They'd hurt him, emotionally, maybe physically, and yet he never truly rebelled until he'd tried to leave, and even then he came back to them willingly. While Giles had spent his youth shunning his destiny, honing magical skill and building himself up, Xander had spent his own pushing into a destiny that didn't belong to him, bending over backwards and breaking himself as if the world of slaying was what he was made for. He was loud where Giles was quiet, dim where Giles was bright, and quick-witted where Giles was often at a loss for words.

In short, Xander Harris was so far from what Rupert Giles had ever known that watching him was like watching a... Well, a very animated cartoon character.

This sad puppy was hardly the Xander Harris he'd grown to... expect. But the physical features and the wardrobe were a passable facsimile.

"So, tell me." He commanded softly, eyes following the boy's tongue as it licked the beer from his lips. "Why are you here tonight?"
Jun. 29th, 2011 01:10 am (UTC)
"To avoid Brit's and other demons," Xander said, draining the bottle.
Jun. 29th, 2011 04:51 am (UTC)
Giles found himself chuckling again. Well, he may not have the usual ironically happy mood of the original, but he definitely had the tongue. "Such a high opinion of us you have. How shall I ever meet your expectations?"

“Oh, just the accent pretty much does the trick.” The smart-aleck ‘body-double’ grinned around is beer, looking like a very dark version of the smiling boy he’d been watching only two nights ago. Snoozing over his sixteenth century manuscripts, until Willow had discreetly poked him with her pencil. He’d looked worn out then, but not this worn out. Not as worn out as the man (because, yes, this was a man) occupying the barstool beside him.

Thunder murmured in the wind outside, Ethan groaning into his ear, “More, God, Yes”, and he lost all tact and touched the Xander-double’s arm. “Terribly sorry, but it doesn’t go away at will. You’ll have to find a way to quiet me.”

The arm jerked out of his reach immediately, and for a second he wondered if he’d been rebuffed. But the man took a long pull of his beer and set it down again, letting his fingers brush Giles’ still outstretched hand.

“Oh, I’m sure I can figure something out.” He smirked a little, finally turning his gaze to—

Oh Dear Lord…

Giles’ eyes widened, his hand ripping off the bar as the boy, God, the twenty-two-year-old boy practically fell off the stool trying to get away from him. Those dark eyes that had hit him like bullets now couldn’t tear themselves away. “Oh- OhmyGod—Giles?!

“Xander.” He whispered, not a question, not even a statement, but a demand. His hand gripped the faux-marble edge of the bar, as though his body was about to leave earth. “Xander, what in God’s name…?”

He swore the thunder outside was Ethan laughing at him, loud and cruel.
Jun. 30th, 2011 02:21 am (UTC)
The following frenzied, whispered conversation was probably highly amusing to anyone with vampiric hearing who happened to be paying attention.

“Merciful Zeus, Giles, Giles HOW can you be here?”

“Alexander Harris you are UNDERAGE! This is hardly the appropriate place to…..

“How the hell did you…..why were you talking to me?”

“I appreciate the fact that they don’t card humans here but that’s because they break many other laws….”

“You were hitting on me!”

Giles opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

The older human sitting on the other side of Xander was chuckling to himself. Rising and leaving the bar, he patted Giles on the back. “Good luck, Ripper.”

“Oh, hello Fred,” Giles said in a daze, then turned back to Xander and struggled for something to say.

“You’re a REGULAR here?!” Xander hissed.

“Xander, I hardly think you are in a position to chastise me….”

“Is this where you come for your ‘adult time’? You had us all believe you were playing guitar for open mike night at the Espresso Club!”

“Xander! I’m a grown man, and I will go where I please!”

“Well, I’M a grown man too, and I have the ……DUST under my fingernails to prove it!” Xander said, not wanting to discuss the death of fledglings in the bar at the moment.

For a moment they were silent, looking at each other in disbelief.

They were startled by the bartender putting two glasses in front of them. “From the tall gentleman in the corner. He’s been enjoying your conversation.” Xander looked confused, but Giles raised a glass toward the Wtha demon in the black suit, another regular. Oh lord, he would never be able to show his face in this bar again.

“So,” Xander said, looking back into his glass for answers, but this drink had nothing to say, either. “Why are YOU here.”

“To be honest,” Giles said (considering, quickly, all the options he had OTHER than honesty) “I’m trying to get a certain voice out of my head.”

The thunder rolled in agreement.

Jun. 30th, 2011 03:48 am (UTC)
Xander opened his mouth, then shut it, speechless with the notion of just how Giles had planned to evict his thoughts only moments ago. Because... Because, Jesus, Giles was hitting on him. HIM. He, who was fairly young, and fairly manly, even from the back. And he hadn't been looking at his back.

Oh God. So. So Giles was a regular here. Giles was a regular here, who knew an awful lot of the clientele. And made a habit of hitting on men.

And that demon just called him 'Ripper'.

Slowly, as if approaching a predator, he lowered himself back onto his barstool and reached for his beer. "You haven't been eating the funny chocolate again, have you?"

"Xander--" Exasperated (though God knows what reason Giles had to be exasperated with him), the Watcher grabbed his beer, dragging it away from him before he could take so much as a sip. "I will not let you sit here and-- and get drunk and dimwitted. Do you even realize where you are?!"

He narrowed his dark eyes, sending all his annoyance at him in the form of a death-glare-- only it was Giles, resident father figure and kind-of friend, so it was less of a death-glare and more of a reproachful sort of stare. "Yeah, I know exactly where I am. Which brings us back to the original question: What're you doing hitting on me in this shit-hole when you should be amassing a fan club at Espresso's open mike night?"

Giles' shoulders slumped. He knew he was caught, fuck, he'd practically dug his own grave on this one. He lifted Xander's beer to his lips and drank, making the boy roll his eyes. "I believe I explained myself already."

"Yeah, the voice in your head. Right." Lightning flickered outside, flashing through the window for a too brief second, and Xander watched it flash off the man's glasses, making him look... God, startlingly dangerous. "Um." He swallowed, trying to rid himself of the bitter taste on his tongue. "So, you come here every time you hear it?"

The Watcher breathed out a soft sigh, the kind Xander recognized as exasperation. "Yes."

"Who is it?"

Giles was deliberately silent, picking up his glass and practically chugging the beer until there wasn't a drop left. And, hey, as an avoidance tactic it was a pretty good one. So Xander let him pass on that, and moved onto the next question.

"So, since when do you suck demon cock?"

Xander was gratified to watch the man choke, cough, and sputter into his hand at the question. Hell, he thought it was a damn good one, considering who they were, where they were. Unfortunately, the question brought... images to mind. Images that made his body warm up about thirty degrees. But the man was more annoyed than he was flustered when he put the glass down, turning to glare at Xander.

"I could ask you the same."

Well, that's fair... He thought, and refused to answer anyway, choosing instead to raise his hand for the bartender, intent on getting his own beer. But before he could order it, Giles was handing the man both glasses, Xanders' empty, his own filled to the brim.

"We're leaving." His tone was low, dangerous, and once again, very British. Not a request, but a command, hard enough to make li'l Xander sit up and take notice. He threw a twenty dollar bill on the bar and slid off his stool, expecting the boy to follow suit.

Xander stayed exactly where he was.

"Hell no." He heard himself spit, as if the very idea was against his religion. Because, even if his mind was telling him Yeah, this was a bad idea anyway..., his mouth tended to shove his mind aside and take the mike. And his mouth had a problem with being patronized.

"Xander, do you know how many of these creatures are watching you right now, plotting ways to get you alone? Every minute you spend here is another minute you spend on their menu. You and I are leaving. This instant."

"Could've fooled me." He replied sarcastically, all at once realizing that, no, he really didn't want to leave, thank you very much. And no way was Giles going to make him. "'Cause I'm staying."
Jul. 1st, 2011 02:47 am (UTC)
Giles sat down again. “I’ll tell the bouncer your true age,” he hissed.

“Bouncer’s been hitting on me all night,” Xander lied easily.

“I’ll have the bartender stop serving you.”

Silently Xander reached into his wallet, pulled out two twentys, and casually tossed it onto the bartop. “We’ll see,” is all he said.


“Tell me who the voice in your head is, and I’ll tell you mine,” Xander said, biting his lip even as the words left his mouth. He hadn’t actually told Giles that….

“You have a voice in your head too?”

Xander realized he had at least half a beer more than he had intended. Oh well, too late. Without looking at Giles he shrugged, refusing to speak. The Watcher’s eyes narrowed.
“Very well, if you must know,” he said in a very low voice, a voice so low it gave Xander chills, “it’s the voice of Ethan Rayne.”

“Ah hell, you have a Brit in your head too?”

“Xander, I’m not going to discuss……wait…….what do you mean ‘too’?”

Damn it! “Bartender!” Xander called, motioning for another beer.

“You complained about ‘Brit’s’ when I arrived….” Giles stopped to look around the bar and behind him. “And yet as far as I know I’m the only ‘Brit’ you know…..”

“And as far as *I* know,” Xander jumped in, in hopes to detract Giles from this train of thought, “You and Rayne hated each other, but if his voice is in your HEAD…….”


“WAIT a minute….all those adolescent highjinks you and he got up to….. you didn’t……..”

“I’m not discussing this with you here. You are leaving with me immediately. “

“Giles, this is my grownup time too…..and I’m not leaving here…..”

Thunder rumbled and the lights flickered. A movement caught Xander’s eye…..the Wtha demon, the one at the corner of the bar that had sent them the drinks, was currently in an argument by two taller creatures, also in black suits. Suddenly Xander’s spidersenses began tingling, telling him, without a doubt, it was wisest to exit the scene.

But how to do so in a manly fashion?

“…and I’m not leaving here…..” Feigning bravado he did not feel (and, really, hoping to stage an exit worthy of his ego) Xander stepped off the stool and stood in the Watcher’s personal space, almost nose to nose. “…unless, of course, you’d like to take me somewhere private and tell me about the voice in your head.”

“Let’s just go,” Xander was prepared to say in his ear if Giles had balked….the time was right to make themselves scarce.

What he was NOT expecting, however, was GILES to move even closer to him. But suddenly he was there, one powerful hand on
Xander’s shoulder, one stubbly cheek rubbing against Xander’s cheek and a rumbling voice in Xander’s ear that sent shivers down his back.

“Come with me now and I’ll tell you everything.”

* * *
Jul. 1st, 2011 02:48 am (UTC)

Xander turned and walked to the exit without speaking.

Voluntarily he walked in front of Giles, allowing the firm hand to remain on his shoulder, steering him through the crowd. Xander walked with his head high, his eyes forward, and his body moving with a certain swagger that announced to the room he was cat that caught the canary (and not, in fact, the canary.)

Xander walked with speed that would certainly be interpreted by onlookers as eagerness to get his gentleman alone (and not, fact, that it was time to get out of the bar.)

Giles followed him speedily as well, with different thoughts in his head.

Giles needed to be alone with the boy, now, to interview him about this matter in private.

The boy with a voice in his head. The boy with a voice with an English accent.

The Watcher’s mind raced, but it kept coming back to the same conclusion. The boy had only met one other Brit that Giles knew of…specifically, a Brit with a penchant for Black Magic and a hunger for young high-school age boys. A man that wasn’t above casting spells on said boys to lure them into his web for a fortnight of dubiously-consensual pleasure.

A man that, when he had last been in town, might certainly have found one Alexander Harris a tasty morsel and might, in fact, have used the opportunity to attempt to use magic to get the boy into his clutches.

Which left Giles in a panic.

Was it his fault Xander’s head was now full of the voice of Ethan Rayne?
Jul. 1st, 2011 04:45 am (UTC)
Ethan... His head swam, dizzy with rage that he could taste, hot and bitter, in the back of his throat. And terror. God, terror at the thought of that bastard sinking his claws into the young and impressionable boy in his grasp. Because, Lord knows, the thrall of Ethan Rayne was a powerful thing. And Xander...

... Xander...

His grip tightened on the boy's shoulder, eyes sweeping over him, assessing him. His skin was tan, his hair was wild, and he didn't even want to chance meeting those eyes-- expressive, electric as the sky, but warm with their muddy hue. A man who didn't know him would say that every emotion he had played out in those eyes. But that wasn't true. Xander's eyes displayed the emotions he wanted displayed. They masked what was really there.

He really was... clever.

Ethan would've wanted to eat him alive.

Christ, he was stupid. Of course Ethan would... Alexander was everything he looked for in a toy. Innocent, but unafraid. Strong physically, weakening emotionally. Slightly lost, but harboring deep resentment for the authorities in his life that could guide him...

... Young, beautiful, corruptible...

Delicious... Ethan's voice whispered in his ear.

The rage and panic lit a fire in his veins, scorching his blood and making him stupid. God, why wasn't I watching...? He pushed Xander out the door, letting it swing shut behind them before finally releasing him.

"Jesus, G-man," The boy mumbled, rubbing his shoulder where Giles had gripped him. "Watch the manhandling there, buddy. That fuckin'--"

"When did it happen?"

Confusion slid over Xander's face, and he turned around to look at Giles warily. "Umm... The manhandling happened just now."

"When was it? Last year?" He pressed further, trying to hide the way his lungs were constricting as the thought, the vision of this, hit the surface of his brain and went directly to his tongue. "Did he come to you, or did you feel... compelled to--"

"Giles, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Did he promise you forever?" He hissed, suddenly seething, because dammit, Ethan... He could see him, fingers skimming down the boy's neck, whispering in his ear, and somehow just the thought of that chilled his blood like ice. "The 'ride of your life'? Because it ends, Xander. He'll use you up, waste your soul until you're half-dead, if you're lucky. And then it will end, and you'll be left with nothing but his blasted voice in your head, promising things that you don't want anymore."

He risked a glance up, only to find Xander's eyes dark, heavy, baring it all-- or at least trying to. There was so much in there, smouldering in those depths. Sparks drowning, because no one could see them. But here, in the hellish darkness of this parking lot, they were the brightest things in the world. Bright, and all-consuming, swallowing darkness and space as they drew Giles to him without ever asking him to come.

Within seconds they were breathing each other's air.

"You don't need another ill-fated love affair, Xander." He murmured, not sure why he was saying it. Not sure he even believed it. "Not with him. Not with anyone."
Jul. 1st, 2011 04:14 pm (UTC)
“How did you know? How could you know?” Xander found himself babbling. It was like his worst nightmare come to life, the outside world knowing about the sick, twisted fantasy-Spike that existed in his head. But Giles wasn’t answering the question. Giles just kept talking.

Then Giles was nose to nose with him for the second time that evening, his mouth a fraction away from Xander’s mouth as he spoke.

"You don't need another ill-fated love affair, Xander,” he was saying, and Xander started shaking his head.

Because he was becoming quickly aware of two things.

First, that he was within kissing distance of Rupert Giles for the second time in a few minutes, and he was liking it.

Second, that the loneliness that he wore like a heavy wet blanket for so very long was slipping away from his weary shoulders.

“But Giles,” he whispered in desperation. “Without screwed-up, fucked-up love affairs….Giles, no one else wants me.”

“Not true,” the older man growled and Xander moaned with relief when he felt his head in the Watcher’s strong hands and his mouth crushed against the Watcher’s warm mouth.

A cheer came up from a group of onlookers huddled under an awning who had been watching the scene. Xander flipped them off blindly as Giles pulled him close. Soon Xander was wrapped in strong arms and was kissing the lips desperately even as they tried to speak.

“I’m so sorry, tell me what he did to you, what did he do to you, Xander?” With hands on both sides of his face Giles pulled the younger man away long enough to speak.

“Nothing, I swear…..I swear to god, Giles, he never touched me, except in my sick, fucked up head. I tried to stop thinking about him but…..I’ve just been so goddamned lonely…..”
Jul. 1st, 2011 11:43 pm (UTC)
“I’m so sorry…” The Watcher whispered again, fingers running up the line of stubble on Xander’s jaw, slow and methodical, so that he could feel each coarse hair against his skin. It felt too good to waste, and Christ, the thought of Ethan touching him like this… The thought Xander wanting him to…

His eyes jolted downward to the boy’s lips, damp and still in motion as he tried to explain himself. But the way they moved, the way they begged for him, it took all his willpower to keep himself from taking them again. Moments ago, the thought of kissing Alexander Harris would’ve been inconceivable. But he’d looked so desperate, so sad, calling himself sick, telling him how no one wanted him…

Xander, how can anyone not want you? He wanted to say, because it was a thought that he just couldn’t fathom. The boy was beautiful, strong, brave, and full of life. It was no accident so many dark creatures wanted to possess him. There was a light in him, a beacon that called to demonic forces like a siren’s song: true and untainted good. Not oblivious, but unwavering. It filled any darkling in his presence with a longing to corrupt it, to win it over like some prize for the dark-side.

As a somewhat reformed darkling himself, Giles was no exception.

He just didn’t know it until he’d found himself drawn into that kiss without any hope of escape. Good God, it was like being in a thrall. Like he didn’t even know what he was doing, just worshiping that mouth that had drooled on his oldest books and lambasted every demon they’d ever faced and called him ‘G-Man’ countless times… And it tasted like beer and tomato sauce, and Christ, he could still…

“Do you dream of him?” He asked, trying to distract himself Ethan…His mind reminded him. Ethan wants him. Ethan’s trying to take him.

“Yes.” The boy whispered faintly, eyes on Giles’ mouth like it was everything he needed. Don’t do this…

“In these dreams,” He began, letting his own gaze trail from Xander’s lips, to his neck, to his tight muscle shirt and the awful plaid thing he wore over it. God, look at him… He cleared his throat, voice slightly strained. “In these dreams, does he…”

Xander’s own voice fell to a hungry, gravelly groan. “In every way you can imagine.” He stepped dangerously close, drawing the Watcher’s green gaze to his lips again. “And some ways you can’t.”

He closed his eyes as visions attacked him, Ethan and he, nearly breaking the headboard in that hotel room in Paris. Only this time it was Xander holding on for dear life, yelling and cursing at the top of his lungs as Ethan shoved himself into--

“I’m just so fucking lonely…” He whispered, and Giles opened his eyes again, body shaking as they came to focus on those lips, because they were still damp and plump and they called to him exactly as they had last time. “Giles-”

And there it was, that pull, that invisible string that pulled Giles closer, even as his senses screamed Don’t do this! and He’s just a child! and You’ll hurt him!. His fingers slid up into those dark, unruly waves he’d often longed to stroke out of his eyes, and he cut him off with another kiss.

They were both prepared this time. Giles’ lips met Xander’s, and they parted immediately, his tongue sliding into the Watcher’s mouth with that same boldness he’d always admired in him. Giles let him in, let his tongue stroke his own, and when the boy coaxed him closer he could do nothing but oblige him. He did some exploring of his own, letting one hand drift to the boy’s side, the hem of his shirt, and carefully beneath it, grazing a nail over his just-exposed skin. Hip-bone. He’d patched him up there once or twice, but he’d never felt him jump at his touch like that, gasping short and sweet into his mouth, like he’d just been relieved of all his pain. Oh God… He groaned against his tongue, lost and captured. And by the time he finally pried himself away, he was a mess of need and panic, and he knew exactly why Ethan was haunting Xander’s dreams.

Can you blame me…? Ethan’s voice laughed in his mind. And no. No, he couldn’t.
Jul. 1st, 2011 02:52 am (UTC)
Giles watched the exchange with amusement. He was out of his seat and headed toward the young man, even while Ethan was arguing in his head. “Your cheating on my body-double with the body-double of a kid? You whore. You can’t get that body-double to beg you to do it ‘harder’ like I can.”

"I can't get YOUR body-double to beg that way, either."

"Fair point," grumbled the voice in his head.

Jul. 1st, 2011 04:46 am (UTC)
I also need to correct Xander's age. I had him down as nineteen, then changed it to twenty-two to make him legal, but I'll change it to nineteen again.
Jul. 2nd, 2011 04:32 am (UTC)
Xander’s eyes were half-closed, concentrate on the amazing sensation that was this man’s hands on his body. He wanted nothing more than to stay this way forever, his skin under the Watcher’s hand, his erection pressing shamelessly into this man’s thigh, his tongue tasting of that warm mouth.

But that was not meant to be. Startled voices were coming from the direction of the bar, and some well-honed part of Xander’s brain (that was still working) forced him to pay attention. “Giles,” he whispered, using his hands on the Watcher’s arms to force a little space between them. “Giles,” he said again, sounding (feeling) drunk. “We need to clear out of here.”

Giles turned his head to looked towards Bull’s. Some patrons were entering to see the action, others, mostly human, were fleeing the bar. “I quite agree, my car is this way,” he replied and the two men quickly headed away from crowd, crossing the street and entering another parking lot.

Giles led him to the passage side door, but before he could unlock it Xander pulled him into a tight embrace again. This time, Giles did not try to talk himself out of it, but held the younger man close to him.

“I can make it stop,” he said, and his voice sounded so strange to his own ears, as if it were breaking, as if he had been crying all this time. “It’s just magic, Xander,” he said as the boy pulled away to look into his face. “Like a hex or a spell, it can be countered. There is a way.”

Speechless, Xander nodded.

“Xander, will you …. will you come back to my apartment? Will you spend the night?”

“Oh fuck yes,” Xander moaned, kissing him hard and fast, then squeezing him as tightly as possible before letting the man go. Soon both doors were unlocked and they were leaving the scene and headed back to sanity.

Thank god,” Giles thought, as he sped home as fast as he dared. “Most of what I need is on hand….the hex books are in the cabinet and these things usually require nothing more complicated than salt and white candles. Rose petals maybe, some grow in the courtyard. We’ll gather the graveyard dust by daylight. I have Xander here physically with me and I still have things owned by Ethan, you shouldn’t have left your books behind Ethan, you sick, greedy bastard.”

Thunder rolled behind them and Giles could easily hear Ethan mocking him. “If you can keep your hands off him long enough…..” he was suggesting……

Thank god, Xander thought as the safety of the comfort of Casa Giles drew nearer and nearer. “No more jacking off in the dark all alone.” He hadn’t been in bed with a man since forever, since high school graduation, to be precise, but tonight that was going to end. The fact that Spike had somehow put a spell on him, that Spike WANTED to put a spell on him, was still banging around in his head, information looking for a place to settle. All Xander knew right now was that an hour ago he thought no one wanted him, and now he knew that TWO men, two very, very sexy men, wanted him pretty badly. “The magic stuff I’ll get you to explain later, G-man” Xander thought silently. “Tonight just take me to your bed. I’ve been too lonely for too long. Tonight just let me lay underneath you and know I’m yours.”
Jul. 2nd, 2011 03:57 pm (UTC)

The apartment was pitch dark when they got there, and for that Giles was thankful. A small measure of sanity had returned during the drive, enough to remind him that this was probably not a good idea. But it seemed like every time he got close to that budding panic he was supposed to be feeling, Xander would touch him, or look at him, or breathe out a soft little sigh that would make him want to kiss him again…

Christ, the boy is like a drug… He swallowed, peering over his shoulder at him as he entered the apartment, knowing that the moment he shut the door there would be nothing stopping them.

Xander took care of that for him, kicking the door shut and propping his shoulders against it as if he was afraid Giles might try to leave. His eyes, close to black in this light, locked with his own and held on, daring him to take what he wanted. Promising things that made his stomach twist and his cock stiffen. Dear Lord, this was Alexander Harris? This tempting, addictive treat of a man, calling to him, making him want to possess every shred of him; this was the awkward teen he’d saved and been saved by, time and time again?

Before the thought could fully sink in, said awkward teen grabbed a fistful of his button-down and dragged him into another one of those mind-altering kisses. The heat of his skin bled through his flimsy muscle shirt, so that when Giles fell against him, it felt so good that he couldn’t move away. In fact, he wanted more. So he cocked his head to the side, tracing his tongue along the boy’s bottom lip, and his hands took hold of the collar of that blinding plaid over-shirt, shoving it off his shoulders until Xander took the hint and let it drop to the floor. God Yes… his mind sighed, no longer able to resist this, and in fact, really quite confused as to how he’d been able to before. He pressed flush against him, soaking up all that heat because he needed it. Because he’d been frozen solid since he came to Sunnydale, trying to be responsible, trying to be a Watcher, the Watcher. And God knows, Xander Harris had been trying to warm him up since the day they met.

Giles--” The boy gasped, head falling back against the door, lips swollen with kisses. By God, he looked like something out of a fantasy. Unable to resist, he leaned in and pressed a kiss just beneath Xander’s jaw, grinning as he felt his breath hitch. His hands dipped beneath the muscle-shirt, peeling it up and away from his boy’s stomach and chest, and Christ, his body was taut with tension, muscles hard, chest heaving as though he’d been running. And he was so bloody gorgeous that the Watcher’s knees went weak. All these years of seeking out gentlemen friends to fill the void Ethan had left, when he could’ve had this?

“How can anyone not want you, Xander…?” He breathed, one hand pinning that shirt above his chest as the other made a careful, examining journey over those muscles. Every one of them flexed and clenched with tension beneath his fingers, and he licked his lips, wishing he could spread him out on his bed and taste them, feel them seize one by one beneath his tongue. Thunder rolled outside, trying to invade his concentration, but his mind was locked on the image of Alexander Harris, all mortal and muscle, tied to his headboard, squirming beneath his tongue as every tight inch of him begged for his attentions.

He liked it. Ethan always had the best taste.
Jul. 3rd, 2011 03:18 am (UTC)

The older man’s hand on his stomach burned him like fire, and all he wanted was more. He pulled his tee off and dropped it, then started to unbutton the shirt in front of him. Giles tried to help, but his fingers fumbled, and in frustration he yanked the shirt open letting the last two buttons pop, surprising Xander so much he took a half-step back.

For a moment they looked into each other’s eyes in surprise, as if shocked to find themselves in this predicament. Then Giles closed his eyes tight and shook his head, just for a moment.

“G-man,” Xander panted, reaching out hesitantly to put his hand on the man’s hips, hesitating before moving into his arms and letting skin touch skin. “What do you want to do?” he whispered (thinking that, perhaps, he should mention that he hadn’t been with a man in a couple of years and, if it was true that six months without sex would grow your virginity back, then he was a virgin again 4x over.)

What he was hoping for was a polite (if veiled) description or possible explanation. What he was not expecting was to hear Giles groan and continue to shake his head. Nor did he expect the man to open his eyes and move forward so quickly that Xander backed into the door (although he didn’t mind that part.)

Two hands hit the door on either side of his head, hard enough to make him gasp. The older man lowered his head as if for a kiss, yet his eyes were still clenched closed. Xander’s hands went right back to where they had been and repeated the question.

The head continued to turn side to side, as if saying ‘no’ to some voice he couldn’t hear. “This isn’t why I brought you back here,” the growl finally came.

A flare of panic shot through Xander’s fevered brain. “Why DID you bring me here?”

“To get……I have …… Ethan’s old books…….I still have…….books about the sex-magic…..” Giles struggled to explain, but was distracted, Xander hoped, by hands tightening on his hips, and bare chests finally touching, and a pair of lips pressing on his lips.

Because Xander had come way too far…..and was now way too horny…..to let his mentor talk himself out of this now.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, trying to keep the pleading out of his voice as Giles took both sides of his head and pushed him back against the door.

“Xander,” he spoke, and his voice was straining. “If I were to take advantage of you now I would be….I would be just as bad as……”

Xander’s face was held still, but his hands were free, and he brazenly used those hands to undo the belt in front of him and pull it free.

“So…..what if *I* take advantage of *you*?” he asked innocently, moaning as Giles snatched his hands and held them still.

But he was struck dumb when Giles, with that sinister predatory look that sent chills down his spine, slowly sank to his knees.
Mouth hanging open, barely breathing, Xander would only whimper when Giles placed two demanding hands on his hips and pushed him back into the door, holding him still while nuzzling nose and chin into the aching bulge in his jeans. Then those hands deftly undid his fly and Xander couldn’t really think after that.

*** *** *** *** ***

“What do you want to do?” the boy had answered, and for a moment reality slammed into his head like a brick.

Because he had come close, so close, to opening his mouth and saying “I want to tie your wrists to my headboard and pull the cords so tight you’ll have to lie about the marks in the morning.”
Jul. 3rd, 2011 05:43 am (UTC)
Because he had come close, so close, to opening his mouth and saying “I want to tie your wrists to my headboard and pull the cords so tight you’ll have to lie about the marks in the morning.”

So close, in fact, that he could only think of one way to keep the words from coming out of his mouth.

And even as he stumbled through his protests, eyes clenched shut while he tried to be the responsible Watcher (who wouldn’t take advantage of lust-infected teenage boys), the Ripper in him could only think of one thing—Xander’s cock. Which was hard, and pressed so tight against his thigh that he could feel its substantial outline and take a serious guess at its size. Bigger than his own, that’s for certain. Bigger than Ethan’s. Bigger than most men, and hot as hell, begging to be freed from its confines. God, he’d kill for a taste.

But because he was Rupert Giles, not Ripper, he willed those thoughts away just long enough to sputter a clear and very real concern…

… Which the boy decided to take as an invitation.

What if *I* take advantage of *you*? He’d said, sweet as sugar even as he pulled open his fly. As if that was a possibility. As if he had a bloody chance in hell of taking Ripper when he didn’t want to be taken. The words, that tone, they hit his blood like morphine, and he grabbed the boy’s hands on instinct, thumbs running slowly over those callused palms to still them. Faintly, somewhere in the saner part of his brain, he remembered something about Xander getting a new job in construction. His hands were rough, work-worn, and he couldn’t wait to feel them on his skin. But that was neither here nor there. Right now, what he wanted was that cock. And he may not’ve been Ripper anymore, but he still bloody well knew how to take what he wanted, when he wanted it.

He shot a grin up at Xander as he slid to his knees, reveling in the dumbstruck expression on his face. Didn’t think I would…? He wanted to laugh. But the move made the young man too eager, and he had to pin his thrusting hips to the door to keep him still. And, gods, just holding him there like that was a rush, gripping his hips and pushing him into that wood, tightening his fingers in punishment when he squirmed… “Yes.” He whispered, not even sure why he said it, only knowing that it almost felt too good to be in command of this boy. Too good to stop, too good to forget, too good to let go.

Once the boy held still, he pulled open his fly and let his cock press out into his hands. It was massive, as he’d already known. Massive, swollen with need already, and for the Ripper left in him it was love at first sight. The rest of him just felt breathless with the thought of taking it into his mouth, into the back of his throat. Impatient, the boy bucked his hips, and that gorgeous piece pushed against his lips, grazing them just enough to give him a taste. He licked it away, eyes flitting up to Xander’s face for a moment, only to find him staring, wide-eyed and entranced. Quirking an eyebrow, he reached up to those hips and slammed them roughly back against the door again.


“You will not do that again. Understand?”


“Good.” He murmured, no longer listening as his gaze fell back to his prize. Breathing in slowly, he drank in his scent and let one hand drift down to lightly grip the base of his boy’s cock. Xander hissed, head smacking into the door behind him, and he gave him no time to recover. His tongue darted out, sweeping over the thick head of his cock, tasting salt and skin and that bitter taste of need, and the sound Xander made was enough to kill the last of his self-control quickly and painlessly.


Yes.” He whispered again, this time on a moan as he opened his lips and ringed them around the swollen crown, sucking softly just for the taste, then harder as Xander’s body seized, trying desperately to remain where he was. Pitying him, he let go of the base and gripped his hips once more, holding him against the door and pulling off to run his tongue from tip to root.

The taste of him was, if possible, more addictive than his kisses had been.

And Ripper, grown though he may be, could still appreciate a fantastic high.
Jul. 4th, 2011 03:29 am (UTC)

Xander tried valiantly not to pull his friend’s hair when his hands became fists on the man’s head.

He failed.

He also tried not to come immediately. He failed at this too, although he heard no complaints from Giles, who only drank him down with moans of appreciation.

Xander’s knees buckled as he came, and soon the masterful hands that had been holding him still (those hands alone had sent him over the edge) were literally supporting him, and soon Giles was standing again and Xander was leaning into his arms.

Panting, Xander managed to wrap one arm around the older man’s neck, nuzzling his face in gratitude.

But the older man wasn’t in a nuzzling mood. Combing his hands through Xander’s sweat soaked hair, Giles held the head against the door and took the opportunity to answer the question Xander had posed before.

“What do I want to do? Alexander Harris, I want to take you up the stairs, tie you down and fuck you until you can’t see straight.”

Dazed eyes met his. Swollen lips parted. “Yes, please yes.”

Giles put his arms around Xander to help him stand. He was struck with such a mad urge to protect the boy at that moment…..he barely knew if he wanted to drag the boy to his bed or carry him upstairs like a new bride.

He compromised, and took Xander by the hand and led him up the stairs.
Jul. 4th, 2011 04:49 pm (UTC)

He was still seeing colors in high-definition by the time he stumbled his way up the steps to Giles’ bedroom. It would’ve been easier if his legs hadn’t gone boneless just moments earlier, but no way in hell was he complaining. No way. That blowjob had made him come so fast, he almost felt lucky knowing Giles was the only one to witness it.

Because above all… He could trust Giles. Anybody else, not really, but Giles? He’d trusted him with his life on more than one occasion. And he didn’t feel the need to impress him, not like Spike. Every fantasy he’d had involving the centuries old vampire had involved him bending over backwards (figuratively and literally) to impress him, to keep him coming back for more. But here there was no pressure. Nothing to work for, and nothing to be nervous about. He could be himself here, because Giles knew him, and still seemed to want him. Miracle of miracles.

He tripped out of his jeans halfway up the stairs, and kicked off his shoes before he reached the top. Giles didn’t seem to mind, what with the way he kept looking back over his shoulder, checking him out with those hot green eyes—and Holy Oblivious, Batman, how’d he miss those? Because for an old guy—and okay, he wasn’t that old—Giles was pretty damn hot. Hot enough to warrant some serious student-teacher crushing.

The bedroom was small, but the bed was huge, and he was grateful for that. Head still buzzing, he dropped onto the edge, hands sinking into the mattress to prop his body up. He took the moment to catch his breath, eyes following Giles as he shucked off his pants and folded them over one arm. Jesus, he looked </i>good</i>. It should be illegal to look that good at his age, whatever it was. Pale, unblemished skin, muscles that were soft around the edges, hair matting his chest—it was all sexy. Sexy as hell. But more than that, he looked… comfortable. Like the kind of guy you’d curl up next to. Again, very much not Spike. His gaze trailed from the older man’s shoulders downward, mapping out the scars on his chest, stomach, thighs… But his eyes were caught on his erection, bobbing proudly against his stomach, and just looking at it made his mouth go dry.

“Hey, um—” He coughed, catching Giles’ attention as he pushed further back on the bed. “Listen. I haven’t, uh, done this in a while. The, um…”

“Fucking.” The Watcher finished for him, bottle-green eyes assessing his form slowly. The way he said the word made Xander lose all his breath, and he swallowed slowly, trying to gain it back before he started babbling like an idiot again.
Then Giles opened the top drawer of his nightstand, and pulled out a length of heavy red rope.

“It’s alright, Xander.” He murmured calmly, the barest hint of nerves in his voice, pulling the rope inch by inch through his fingers, as if trying to find the appropriate measure. “If you trust me, I can give you exactly what you need.”

Xander’s eyes fell to that rope, and he breathed out, shuddering with more need than he’d ever felt before.
Jul. 4th, 2011 07:35 pm (UTC)
WHY Giles was keeping rope in his nightstand, Xander wasn’t prepared to ask.

But HOW Giles knew what Xander needed right now, he didn’t even wonder. There were things Giles just knew. He knew about Spike’s voice that never left his head (due to some magic, apparently) and he knew that for so long Xander wanted, needed to be possessed.

In all the fantasies of Spike, all those constant, STUPID fantasies, Spike overpowered him and took what he wanted. Only in the end offering him the choice to go or stay for more. Then Xander would wow him (somehow) with effort and imagination. But in those fantasies Xander had to fight back, at least verbally, couldn’t REALY submit to the bleach-blond god-in-leather.

But this was different. This was Giles. Rupert I-can’t-take-advantage-of-you-I’d-be-as-bad-as-he-is-Giles. Giles the I’ll-prove-I’m-not-taking-advantage-of-you-with-this-spectacular-blowjob Watcher. And while Xander hadn’t taken the ‘tie you down’ part of his promise literally, now that the rope was presented Xander didn’t hesitate. He scooted forward on the bed, never dropping the Watcher’s eyes and presented both his hands.

Giles gestured with his head toward the top of the bed and quickly they arranged themselves there. Xander lay down with his head near the board and his wrists together. “I never……I’ve never done *this* before…..” he explained in a whisper, and Giles nodded comfortingly.

“Watch,” Giles said (the same as he did when he taught Xander how to tie Spike to the chair. From there he proceeded to move the rope too quickly for Xander to follow.) The rope went twice around his wrists and tightened (‘Is this tight enough? Now?’) and tied in a quick knot that left a loop which Giles placed over Xander’s hand so that part of the rope lay in his palm. “If anything happens and you need to untie yourself, just release this loop and pull straight down. You’re strong enough to pull out of the slipknot. Do you understand?”

Xander nodded. Silently, he looked up as Giles left a length of rope free then tied a more serious knot on the headboard.
Finally the process was done and they were looking into each other’s eyes again, and Xander was wondering if it was possible to melt into the bed. Giles had put his glasses on the nightstand but the eyes that were boring into him were still, thrillingly, commanding. The things he was being told now, that beautiful demanding tone was making Xander’s knees weaker than they already were. If it were Spike giving the orders Xander would have automatically rebelled. But everything Giles said to him was sending electricity straight to his awakening cock.

“If it gets to be too much you will say ‘Giles, I need to stop,’ and you will say it right away. Do you understand?”
Xander nodded.

“Are you ready?” Afraid to speak, Xander only nodded.

“Turn over.”

Moaning, Xander immediately complied. The rope length between his hands and the headboard gave him the room he needed to move. With the help of those warm, commanding hands, Xander was soon feeling that warm mouth breathing in between his shoulder blades, laying down on his swiftly hardening cock.

For a moment all he felt was that mouth, licking and nipping over his shoulders, teasing his ear and the back of his neck. Warm, gentle fingers stroked his jugular vein, and a warm, calm voice asked, “If I were to bite you here, would that turn you on? Or would it remind you too much of work?”

“Let’s find out,” Xander whimpered.
Jul. 4th, 2011 09:20 pm (UTC)

“Let’s find out,” He’d gasped, looking so delightfully supplicant with his wrists tied like that, broad shoulders bowed forward in restraint, spine arching in a concave curve while his cock pressed into the mattress, hardening again. The sight was so tempting, he almost didn’t hear the words. He was much too busy examining his prize.

Settling over him, Giles slid his tongue up the back of Xander’s neck, tasting the sweat of the day’s labor and sucking it away. God, why hadn’t he done this before? He knew he had some very good reasons, but they seemed to be escaping him right now. The boy’s shoulders shifted, and he stroked his straining muscles, feeling them quake and push against his touch. Not used to this. Good… His mind whispered, almost proud to be the first to have him like this. Proud to be the first to give him this pleasure.

He did it when Xander was least expecting it, hands rubbing slow circles into his shoulder blades and lips planting whispering kisses in a trail up the back of his throat until they finally landed exactly where they wanted to be. At the hollow of his neck, where the jugular vein lay exposed, he sunk his teeth into the skin, sucking softly. Xander’s body went rigid, shuddering beneath him with pure bliss, and he made a strangled sound that vibrated against Giles’ lips, enough to make him grin. He sucked the skin, wanting to leave a mark, wanting to make certain Xander would remember this should he choose to never repeat it. The thought brought a shudder to his heart, not the good kind, and he willed it away with another bite, lower, at the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“Giles-!” Xander panted, bucking into the mattress, his cock rubbing into the sheets eagerly. “God, more-!”

“You’re so gorgeous like this.” He heard himself breathe, not sure why he said it, only knowing that he meant it with his entire being. “I want to explore you. I want to know how to turn you on with a touch. Do you like this, Xander?” He whispered in his ear, so very tempted to bite his earlobe that he almost didn’t get the words out. “Do you like being completely in my hands?”

“Holy Understatements, Batman.” His boy managed to gasp, rocking up against him in the most lewd and tantalizing way.

With a small smirk, the Watcher slid his arms around his prize, lips trailing more kisses over his shoulder just to taste the skin. “Do you like it?”

“Yes-- Fuck, Yes, Giles. I love it.” He moaned, tugging softly at the bonds out of sheer fascination with their feel. Ripper knew that feeling well. Being tied, when you want to be tied, is one of the hottest feelings in the world. Makes one wonder if the wrist could be an erogenous zone. He smirked against his shoulder, hands sliding up his chest and over every bruise and scar he’d earned slaying, counting them all, enjoying them, his possession of them. He’d patched up most of them himself.

When he reached his nipples, the boy made a noise that took his breath away, a gasp that slid into a groan, that slid into a pleading whimper that made him groan himself.

“You’re sensitive here.” He whispered against his ear, a statement, not a question. Entranced, barely believing his luck, he dragged a thumbnail over the darkened skin at his right nipple’s base, feeing it tighten immediately beneath the touch. The sound Xander made then was confirmation enough, and he twisted the pebbled skin between his fingers, rocking his body down as the boy arched up. “Gods, you’re absolutely perfect.”

Giles-” Xander cried, his cock dragging rock hard against his sheets, his ass pressing up against his captor. “Fuck, I- Oh My God, Please!”

“Getting there.” He heard himself breathe, lips pressing tauntingly against his shoulder one more time before they began their journey… lower.
Jul. 5th, 2011 01:07 am (UTC)
Xander was asleep and dreaming.

That was the only explanation for it. Unless he was under some kind of hex or spell, as Giles had said. Maybe it was that short red-handed demon who spoke to him last…..maybe it had spiked his drink or stuck him with some poison with those weird fingers.

Whatever it was, sleep, poison or magic, Xander never wanted it to end.

But it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. Sex between men, as Xander found out in Oxnard, was wait your turn, get a little, wait your turn. Sometimes wait your turn was interesting, like trying to impress someone you respected with the oral skill they just taught you, and sometimes it was a little painful. But, hey, everyone did their part and got what they wanted in the end. That’s what Xander learned in the school of Oxnard.

Rupert Giles, apparently, never attended that school.

Then there was the talking, that was proof positive this was all a dream. Xander understood talking during sex of course (You’re a dirty little whore, aren’t you? You like that, don’t you bitch? I’ve been waiting for this chip to get out so I could spread you wide and shove my cock in your idiot arse…..wait that never really happened, that was just in his head.)

But Giles was using words like ‘perfect’ and ‘gorgeous’, words that just didn’t apply to him. And then there was this long loving endless journey from the back of his neck down, half the time without Xander even able to touch Giles back in return.
“I want to explore you”? Was that British for “You like that, don’t you bitch” ??

Then Giles started touching his nipples and all Xander could do was pray he didn’t come on the bedcover. And now he was doing something he had never done, grinding his ass against his lover and begging.

And still, his lover didn’t seem to be in any rush.

Was it because Giles was older? Or was Giles simply from another school of sexual contact that Xander had never dreamed of? Now Giles was kissing Xander’s shoulderblades and working his mouth lower, his knowing hands with guitar-callused fingertips rubbing Xander’s back in a way that was strangely soothing despite all this madness. In the small of Xander’s back, on the right side, they paid particular attention…..rubbing of fingertips and then lips and then tongue and then fingertips again.

“Is that…….” Xander managed to rise to his elbows and look down at the older man. “Are you….kissing my Trall-demon scar?”
Jul. 6th, 2011 04:12 am (UTC)
The boy was looking at him like he had two heads. It was adorable, really. Because it was obvious what he was expecting; that rough, hungry fucking teenage boys so often indulge in when they’re first learning the ropes. Fast, dirty, because getting caught would make it real. He’d been there. But he knew what Xander needed now, and it wasn’t the graceless rutting he’d experienced… wherever (With whoever… He willed that thought away). Xander needed something slow. Something he could concentrate on, with someone who was concentrating on him. He needed to feel what being wanted by another man really feels like.

And God in Heaven, Giles wanted this boy. So much.

More than he ever thought he could want anyone. But Ethan Rayne, of course. Because Ethan was the rule, to which Xander was the most unlikely of exceptions, and part of him wasn’t as surprised by that as the rest of him. He assumed that part was his libido.

His eyes leveled down to the raised skin he was kissing, and he smiled a little, darting them back up to meet Xander’s. “I believe so.” The scar was long, stretching from the boy’s side to the small of his back. He remembered when that happened. Christ, two years ago. The thing had sunk its claws in so deep, he could see bone when he stitched him up. It had made him sick at the time—made him excuse himself to the bathroom as his stomach churned with nausea. Patching up Buffy never made him feel that sick.

It was instinct, telling him that Xander was special, that Xander should never be hurt, because Xander had a soul that he shouldn’t be risking. A soul that should never be separated from its earthly shackles, because this world needed all the goodness he could bring to it.

It was that same nausea that overtook him with the thought of his boy being taken by Ethan Rayne.

Man, you were scary that night.” Xander mused, relaxing in his bonds as Giles slid his fingers over the scar. “I thought you were going to kill me.”

I scared you?” Giles countered, nipping at the tip of that raised skin, hands sliding down his sides to pin his hips to the bed when he gasped and bucked against him. “Xander, you charged at the beast with a bloody baseball bat. Do you know how easily you could’ve been killed?”

Hey,” His boy tried to sound affronted, but with the way Giles was handling him, his breath was short, and his voice had broken into moaning pitch long ago. So, in reality, he just sounded like he was begging. “That was a Warrior BESR Louisville Slugger, all alloy, synthetic rubber grip. And you were the one who told us to bust the thing’s nose before we tried to kill it.”

“I told Buffy to break its nose.”

“But I was the one who did it.” His voice was thick with pride now, back straightening, the scar stretching beneath the Watcher’s mouth. He sounded so happy with himself that it was almost easy to forget that he’d been injured at all. “I still can’t believe it ate my Louisville Slugger. Not cool. I saved up for that thing.”

Giles smiled, shaking his head a little. “Xander, I am still barely able to believe you lived. You don’t need to mourn your, ah, baseball bat.”

“A Louisville Slugger is so not just a baseball bat, G-man. It’s a symbol of the American way.”

Jul. 6th, 2011 04:12 am (UTC)
Scoffing a little at that, the Watcher lowered his lips to that scar again, and slid his tongue over it slowly, methodically, tasting every inch of it until Xander was squirming, head falling forward, hips bucking against the mattress in a slow, instinctive rhythm. His cock was red now, hungry for a touch, and just watching it made him want to taste it again. Which was completely unfair. He’d never get that taste off his tongue, never forget the way he rocked into his mouth and pleaded for more. Obviously, he was going to have to blow him again. But not now. Not while he had the boy tied and helpless to his whims.

There were far too many other things to show him. There was no time for repeats tonight.

His tongue slid lower, past that damn Trall demon scar, down the last bumps of his spine and he felt Xander panting his name before he heard it.

Giles,” The boy groaned softly, sounding dazed and more than a little lustful. “Giles, what’re you doing?”

A small smirk lit the older man’s lips, and he pressed a soft kiss to the cleft of Xander’s ass, hands skimming down his thighs to assist in splitting him open. When the boy felt them, he gasped, all his breath fading from his lungs. His hips squirmed, his arms yanked at his bonds involuntarily, and he looked like he didn’t know whether to be turned on or afraid.


“How many times have you come in a single night, Xander?” The Watcher asked, eyes focusing in on that tight little hole, his prize, his target.

“I—” The question made him choke, for once speechless.

“Because I am going to taste you here.” He continued, spreading his ass a little wider for a better view, because Christ. “And then I’m going to touch you. And then I’m going to stretch you. And then I’m going to fuck you. So you’d better start keeping a count.”

Thunder rolled outside his bedroom window. He didn’t hear it above Xander’s groan, not at all.
Jul. 6th, 2011 06:38 pm (UTC)
Xander’s body was so tense the muscles in his legs were threatening to cramp up. His cock was throbbing despite its recent activities and no matter how hard he tried to stay still, to be cool, to not act like such a fucking virgin, but staying still was impossible. He twitched, he shied, he bucked. The Watcher’s tongue was seeking out places Xander had never dreamed of (well, ok, he had DREAMED of, but he had never EXPECTED) and even staying still long enough to enjoy that fact seemed impossible.

Giles didn’t seem to mind. With two hands holding tight to both sides of his body that miraculous tongue continued to do mind-blowing things to the most intimate part of him, leaving Xander whimpering, incapable of speech.

Then the tongue disappeared and the fingers began and Xander lay silent, agape, as Giles tenderly undid him, one finger at a time.
Jul. 6th, 2011 07:22 pm (UTC)
“Stay still,” Giles ordered, and with a moan, Xander instantly obeyed.

*** *** ***

Watching his callused fingers gently fill the boy up was sweet.

Watching gooseflesh appear all the back of his legs was sweeter.

But making the Xander squirm was sweetest of all, and when Xander stopped squirming Giles found it irresistible to make him start all over again.

Keeping the even, easy rhythm going with his fingers Giles lay his body alongside Xander’s, touching him everywhere, and began murmuring into his hair.

“My sweet, sweet Alexander, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than when you showed my your prick tonight.”

“You……sort of……showed yourself …..oh……”

Giles chuckled directly into his ear which produced the desired result…..squirming, panting.

“Well, yes I suppose I did.”

“S…..sorry I …..lost it so fast.”

“Oh, not at all. It was delightful. And Xander,” Giles lowered his voice to his best bedroom whisper, “Swallowing you down wasamazing.

“Ah god…..Giles……can I…” Xander moved a bit and looked up at him. “Would you let me do that to you? Blow you, I mean?”

Giles smiled and said in his most British voice, “’Blow me’? I’m not sure….that would be American vernacular for….what?”

Xander closed his eyes, missing the wicked grin. But he opened them again and Giles arranged his face most carefully.

“I meant, can I…..can I take your cock in my mouth and swallow you too?”

“Oh yes, yes, it would certainly be an honor,” Giles said, his calm demeanor belying the way his own cock twitched, not at the idea of what Xander was describing (which, too, sounded lovely) but at watching the words form on the boy’s breathless lips.

But now……the boy’s forehead was furrowing in an expression that was almost one of pain. “Giles…..”

“Yes, Xander?”

“Please……..” he said, turning his face away to lay it straight down on the mattress. “Giles……please fuck me.”
Jul. 6th, 2011 08:03 pm (UTC)
The moment those words left his boy’s lips, he lost his mind to sheer need.

“Say it again.” He demanded, his voice dropping to a soft, pleasant growl. Slowly, he slid down that body, eyes scanning every straining muscle, listening for every hitched breath. He wanted his boy on the very edge before he pushed him over.

“Fuck me.” Xander breathed again, breathlessly sweet as he had before, which was very sweet indeed.

Very sweet. Giles was almost tempted to stop, so he could let him regain a little sense, then take it away again because it was so amusing to watch. He was two fingers deep now, shoving them inside and scissoring that hole apart, marveling at how tight he was. Every move made Xander shudder, cry out for him... By now, he was clutching that rope, tugging at it as if it was the only thing holding him to this earth.

“Again.” He demanded, tongue working its way down his spine in a serpentine motion. He wanted to hear him beg, feel his need in every nerve and tendon beneath him.

Fuck me.”


Please Fuck Me, Giles…” Xander panted, arms stretching against that rope as his ass rose to meet his finger’s thrusts eagerly. His back, littered with scars, flexed and twisted beneath him as if to prove it was still part of a living thing.

He kissed the small of his back, just beneath his Trall-demon scar, leaning up a little to murmur against his skin. "Your scars. They remind me of how easy it would be to lose you."

"I- Oh God, Giles, can we please save the sentimental moments for when you're not about to screw me blind?" The boy panted, rocking his hips back on the Watcher's
fingers, voice broken into needy little breaths.

He ignored him, jamming his fingers into that body harder than he'd ever intended in punishment. But that was alright. Xander seemed to like it, the way he threw his head back and yelled, form shuddering like he'd caught a chill.

"But they also remind me of all the times I've saved you. Healed you." He breathed the words, resting kisses down that scar again, fingers twisting to touch new places, give him new feelings. "I look at these scars, and I see my handiwork, keeping you alive for another day."

"Please..." Xander was gasping, body twisting against those fingers, not even certain of what he was feeling, what Giles was doing to him. "Giles, please..."

"I feel..." He whispered, moving slowly up his back, hand still working those digits into that hole, stretching it apart, making room for what he needed. But he had to say this first. Had to let Xander know exactly how serious this had become. "I feel like I have rights to you, when I see them. Like I could possess this body. Because I've saved it so many times, I've earned it." He paused his fingers, body shelling over his boy's, lips barely a centimeter from his ear. "Touching you like this... makes me want to keep you."

It was only when Alexander Harris, the ever-moving, ever speaking ball of energy, went completely still and silent beneath him that he realized just how much those words meant.

To both of them.

He pulled his fingers out, and the boy moaned in sheer desperation.


“Hush.” He murmured, blindly reaching for his nightstand and grabbing the lube he’d left there.
He poured a liberal amount into his hand and began to wet his own swollen cock, barely able to keep from coming at the sight before him.

The thought of being inside his prize was the only incentive he needed.
Jul. 6th, 2011 09:02 pm (UTC)

Xander was tight, almost too tight, and as Giles slipped the head of his cock inside the twitching, clinging opening he had a moment to consider that Xander might have been exaggerating his experience, that “a long time” might have meant “never.”

But there was no time to consider that, because the boy was now pushing back into him, then down into the bed, rocking Giles deeper and faster than he had intended.

But Giles was too far gone to complain now.

With skills born of too many demonic-possession-induced orgies to count, he kept his orgasm at bay, let the waves of pleasure pass over him without getting swept away, and soon was back to concentrating on Xander’s reactions.

Xander was whispering something continuously, and to better hear it Giles stretched himself back over the boy, moving with him, for a few beautiful moments, with his mouth positioned directly on the back of Xander’s sweat-soaked head. He kept his weight evenly on both arms, holding his chest just barely above the younger man’s back, keeping the rhythm smooth and easy. It was tender, calm and loving moment.
Then he realized just *what* Xander was whispering and the crashing waves threatened to pull him away, body and soul.

Jul. 6th, 2011 10:39 pm (UTC)

His oh-so-manly pleading was cut off with a loud, strangled moan as the man who now completely controlled every nerve in his body made them scream with pleasure and pain, sinking his shaft into him completely, filling him. And nothing had ever felt so good. Nothing had ever felt so right.

It felt so right, he arched into it, losing all his breath and some of his brain to get closer. And above him, he felt Giles trembling, trying to hold back, trying to keep himself restrained. Well, fuck that. He didn’t need Giles restrained. He was supposed to be the one doing the restraining. Hence, the rope.

Speaking of the rope, he wondered what would happen if he held on to it for leverage, and spread his thighs out just like that and Oh My GOD Best Idea EVER because it brought Giles in so deep, Jesus Christ, and made his ass clench--

Bloody Fucking Hell!” The Watcher choked, his hands fisting into the sheets beneath them, his hips pistoning erratically into him as he tried to come to terms with the brilliantly tight tightness that was holding him captive. And, wow, just like that, Xander had him. Like a willing slave. He was doing exactly what Xander asked him to do, fucking him, pounding into his ass like he was trying to break through him, and according to the labored breathing and the way his whole body was shuddering with bliss, he was loving every second.

Xander decided to test this theory.

Fuck me, Giles, do it.” He gasped, rolling his ass back into that fat cock, letting it push inside him until he saw colors and lost all his breath. His fingers latched around that rope, and he held on, wrapping the slack part tighter around one wrist so that his spine was bowing out and his head was falling back onto Giles’ shoulder. “Please. I need it.”

Giles’ hands landed on his hips, and he cried out, his cock ramming inside him stiff and slick as his thighs slapped against Xander’s ass hard enough to feel like a spanking. And it was so good he saw lights, colors, stars, and forgot what he was trying to test until the man inside him lost all his control and sunk his fingernails into his skin, coming inside him with a groan that Xander would remember for the rest of his life as the number one sexiest sound he’d ever heard.

The cock inside him sputtered come over and over again, and he heard himself whimper a little, his own erection still sitting up and ready to pop against his stomach. But Giles was still shuddering.

He looked over his shoulder at the dazed man still inside him and grinned, nearly forgetting about his own pleasure at the sight of the Watcher’s.

This must be what lightning feels like, He thought, mind still a little gone with need. when it strikes somebody who was really asking for it.
Jul. 7th, 2011 08:32 pm (UTC)
Gingerly, with little gasps and moans, Giles withdrew and pulled away from him. Xander watched his face closely….the face of man he had feared and respected (and occasionally crushed on) but now it might have been the face of a stranger for all he recognized it. The faces he made, and the noises he made, because of me….

He expected Giles to collapse on the bed. If he did, Xander would pull out the slip knot and collapse in his arms. Collapsing on top of each other and resting was usually how it was done (assuming you had been fucking in a bed) in Oxnard.

But Giles wasn’t collapsing. At first his face clenched, as if he were in pain. Then he stood and left without even looking at Xander.

Xander bit hard into his lip and turned his face to the bed. Don’t panic he’s not saying anything he’s just going to the bathroom he’s not regretting it he’s not calling it a mistake he’s not he’s not just calm down…..

Xander heard the water running in the little bathroom, then Giles reappeared with a wash cloth. Xander forced himself to stop biting his lip, forced himself to breath regularly. He didn’t risk looking up a Giles, and Giles didn’t speak.

Xander didn’t speak either. More than once in Oxnard, achingly lonely and desperate for home, Xander had mistaken hot sex for something else. Those more experienced men had been forgiving, usually, but it was still an embarrassment he did not wish to engage in again.

At least Giles wasn’t untying him. When he started untying him, the sex part would obviously be over.

* * * * *

Damndamndamn, there was so much more I wanted to show him, we didn’t even get to be face to face… Giles pulled away carefully and wanted nothing more than to collapse on the bed, gods knew he hadn’t come that hard in……years? Ever? If he let himself lay down now he’d certainly fall asleep, and that wouldn’t do at all. So he heaved himself up and into the washroom for a clean cloth. There he heard, for only a moment, the voice of Ethan whisper.

You were supposed to catch his essence in a new white cloth, if you wanted to unhex him, did you forget that part?

“Oh, we’re not done for the evening,” Giles silently told the lewd voice in his head as he reentered the dark bedroom.

Edited at 2011-07-07 08:36 pm (UTC)
Jul. 8th, 2011 12:42 am (UTC)
The boy was still exactly as he’d left him, knees pressing into the sheets, hands clinging to that rope, head bowed forward in… What was that expression? He’d never seen it on Xander’s face before, and quite frankly it froze him with fear. It looked like… like he was trying very, very hard to not show a single emotion. Oh God… He paused mid-step, white cloth in hand, and murmured, voice still hoarse and cracked from their activities. “Are you alright, Xander?”

The question was too loud in this room, in this bubble of silence, and it made the boy tense, his whole body stiffening, his fingers clenching around that rope and holding on for dear life. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Are you?” He asked again, stepping toward the bed, cloth in hand and eyes on his captive’s profile, the way his mouth was strangely lax and his eyes were wide and full of apprehension. Oh God, I didn’t-- “Xander…”

Reaching down, he touched his boy’s neck, drawing his fingers over the bronzed skin and tracing the hard lines of his shoulders. With each passing second that body relaxed, and the knot that had formed in Giles’ stomach when he’d seen his pensive face began to untie itself. Still, he had to ask, and he had to see his face to do it. He crouched beside the bed, eyes dragging themselves up to Xander’s face (which was quite a feat, considering the view he had of that cock). “Did I hurt you?”

Apprehension gave way to surprise. “God no, G!” Raising his eyebrows, the boy twisted his neck to look completely at him. “Are you kidding? I was about to have the orgasm of my life, if you hadn’t beat me to it.”

He couldn’t help smiling at that, hand caressing the gorgeously toned muscles beneath it, feeling them relax more and more. “I couldn’t stop myself, I’m afraid.” Muttering softly, he leaned up to whisper in his ear, enjoying the closeness and the scent of him. “But the night is young. Perhaps I can still oblige you?”

In that moment, the young man breathed out a sigh of pure relief, grin lighting up his deep brown eyes and filling Giles’ stomach with fluttering moths.

“You’re up for that?”

He laughed, thinking of London, of all the things he’d spent his years there learning. Bouncing back was… one of the handier skills he’d learned. Among others.

“Alexander,” Giles whispered, voice rich with anticipation. “You won’t believe what I’m up for.”

Christ, Giles.” Xander nearly whimpered, eyes screwing shut in naked need.

“Turn over for me.” He spoke the command softly, his hand pulling away from that muscled shoulder, leaving him to twist over on his own. And he did, legs sprawling out as he tried to do it without his hands. He just barely managed it, gasping in pain as his ass bounced on the bed, seeping Giles’ seed onto the sheets. Green eyes watched, riveted to the show, taking in the way that body flexed and spread out just for him. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

Xander scoffed at that, clearly disbelieving. “Yeah, you said that.”

“I don’t say anything I don’t mean, Xander.” He whispered, pushing to his feet and swiping his gaze over that body lying prone before him. “Look at me. You’re getting me hard all over again, just letting me look at you.”

The boy swallowed, his legs sprawling a little wider to show off that fucking delicious erection, rock-hard against his stomach. Giles licked his lips, tasting the remnants of him and sighing softly with the want for more. But there were other things he needed.

He needed to see Xander come. He needed to be looking into those eyes, kissing his lips, pounding into his ass as his legs wrapped around him helplessly and his arms stretched over his head, leaving him defenseless… And he needed to see that unearthly bliss take over that gaze, and taste that last cry of pleasure, feel him quiver and clench all around him…

He’d never wanted this so much with anyone else, that much was certain.
Jul. 8th, 2011 03:12 am (UTC)
Is it time to start part 2? Should this one, or the next one, be the next post?

Xander willing parted his legs to allow Giles to kneel between them, a move so innocent and pure (and willing) that it sent another jolt directly to his hardening prick. Remembering the washcloth in his hand he gently cleaned Xander’s opening. Watching Xander’s face closely for signs of pain he pressed the cloth in slightly. When he saw nothing but desire in the dark eye he placed a finger, covered in the cloth, directly against that tight space and began massaging rhythmically in a move he hadn’t used since boys’ school. Xander’s eyes closed in pleasure and his arms relaxed against the bed.

“Are you ready for more?” Giles asked in his best bedroom voice, and Xander nodded.

Giles carefully lay the cloth on his nighttable. Then, with Xander’s help, he maneuvered the boy’s gorgeous ass a few inches to the left, laying him diagonally across a dryer part of the bed.

“You were so tight,” he continued, rubbing his hands up and down Xander’s bent legs as he chose his words carefully. “I almost fancied that I had been your first time.”

“Yeah,” Xander sighed, then opened his eyes. “I mean, no, but yeah, it’s been a couple of years and…..yeah. You were amazing.”

“A couple of years?” Giles asked, trying to keep his words gentle, his expression neutral, as he carefully studied Xander’s face. “That would have been…….after the graduation? Or still in high school?”

Oxnard,” Xander whispered, eyes closing, enjoying the massage that Giles was now giving his inner thighs.

“A yes, I believe Buffy mentioned……something about an all male review?” he said as gently as he could, slightly amused as Xander, eyes still closed, grimaced at the mention of the 'The Fabulous Ladies Night Club' adventure.

With one hand slowly massaging Xander’s inner thigh (and the other pulling his cock back into fighting form) Giles continued questioning gently. He didn’t dare ask the question directly, nor was he completely sure that Xander was ready to talk about such intimate things (after all, they had only been lovers for about an hour.)

Still, there were things about Xander’s attraction to men that Giles needed to know.

Mainly, if it had started before or after Xander’s encounter with Ethan Rayne.
Jul. 31st, 2011 10:09 pm (UTC)
holy fucking shit! *fans self* you two are dangerous together lmao. that's just wow, seriously intense and hot and omg i can't wait to see their reactions when they realize giles had the wrong idea the whole time. total awesomeness, i want more :D
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Jan. 2nd, 2015 12:36 am (UTC)

We are happy to inform you that your story, Comment!fic, has been nominated for The Good Squirm Award in the 2015 Headline Awards, celebrating Anthony Head and all of his characters! The judging and voting will begin on January 21st and the winners will be announced on February 20th. Please let us know if you would prefer not to participate.

Congratulations and Good Luck!!!
Jan. 20th, 2017 11:47 pm (UTC)

Your story, Comment!fic, has been nominated for The Good Squirm Award in the 2017 Headline Awards, celebrating Anthony Head and all of his work. Judging and voting will begin on Jan. 21st, and winners will be announced on Feb. 20th. Please let us know if you would rather not participate. Good luck! Find us at Headlineawards on Tumblr or tonyhead_awards on LJ.
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