Fic: Giles makes good
Title: Giles makes good
Author: Antennapedia
Pairing: G/X (mention of B/G/W/X)
Rating: FRAO
Summary: Giles makes good on the promise he made at the end of Four nights and a revelation. Xander talks. A lot.
Notes: Written for the International Day of Slash. And only a day late! PWP pr0n.
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership and am making no money.
Distribution: Hey, whatever. Just let me know.
The Road Runner no longer starred in Xander’s lazy Saturday mornings, though sometimes Xander wished it did. Like now. Giles was off jogging. Buffy and Willow were off together at some campus event. Xander was just off. So was Giles’ busted TV. Last night had been dull, too. Buffy and Giles had gotten in from a long patrol and thunked into bed immediately. They’d been asleep too fast even for a goodnight kiss. There were no household chores to do, no big bads to research, no donuts to fetch. A good dose of meep-meep and anvils would be perfect right about now.
Xander slumped over the couch and groaned. Another hour of this and he’d start reading demonologies for fun.
The front door to the flat opened, and a sweaty Brit-guy huffed in. He stopped a pace into the main room and bent to stretch. Left hand to right foot, then right hand to left foot, then straight over, palms on the floor, for a long space of breaths. Xander watched, fascinated. Giles in blue running shorts, showing off hamstrings and calves, in a sweat-darkened white t-shirt. He stripped off the shirt and used it to mop his face and chest. Giles apparently didn’t know Xander was there. Xander, who until exactly two days ago had been 100% het-boy, but who was now enjoying the view of Giles’ chest fuzz. And the hickey on his neck, which Xander was pretty sure was his fault. And his underarms, which Giles was giving a sniff.
“Smell good?”
Giles started. “Dear lord, it’s you. I thought everyone had left.”
Xander laughed. “Not me. Do they?”
“What?”
“Smell good.”
“Like I need a shower,” Giles said, shamefaced.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Xander hopped off the couch and invaded Giles’ space. He took a good whiff. Sweaty, with that fresh clean sweat smell, not yet yucky, and deep in it a note of pure Giles. Xander sniffed again. Wow, this was making him hard. Though god knew, Xander was nineteen and sometimes just the fact that the sun had risen that morning made him hard. It was wild that it was one, another guy, and two, Giles. What the hey. Xander pulled Giles’ face down and kissed him. This was good. Soulmate. Magical soulmate. Heart kissing the mind. Heart trying to climb inside the mind. Xander pressed himself against Giles and kissed harder.
“Steady on,” said Giles. His arms were around Xander’s waist, holding him up. Xander was a little embarrassed at how emotional he’d gotten just then.
“So, hey. What did you promise me the other night?”
Giles flushed. “Ah. Yes. That.”
“When do I get to collect?”
“Oh, ah. I rather thought… the others…”
Xander kissed him again. “We share our toys, Giles. I intend to spend quality alone time with all three of you. Lemme see when I can pencil you in. Ah… how about now?”
“I think I might have the hour free.”
Xander grabbed his hand and dragged Giles upstairs. The bed had clean sheets and nice quilt, stretched tight. Xander hated seeing such absurd neatness. He flung himself facefirst across it, then rolled. Giles sat on the edge and bent to untie his running shoes. Xander shucked his jeans and his bowling shirt. Why waste time? He crawled over to Giles and kissed his way up the bare back. Giles turned and looked at him.
“Less clothes, Giles.”
“Fewer,” said Giles, but Xander could tell his heart wasn’t in it. He pushed his running shorts down, revealing a white jock strap. Okay, no shock there. The man had been running. The jock looked like containing all of excited Giles was a strain.
“You know, if I were gay, this would be like a million fantasies come true.”
“You’re not?”
“No. I am scoob-o-sexual. Fortunately for me, I know where I can find people of my kind to mate with. Leave it on. I think I’ll make some new fantasies just for you.”
Giles smiled at him, and murmured, “You have got a mouth on you.”
“A dirty one. C’mere and kiss me. Only way to shut me-” Giles stopped his mouth in the nicest way possible. And then kept it busy for some time. Xander, if he’d had his druthers, would have already proceeded on to the getting sucked and then the getting fucked, but Giles had this thing about the hugging and the kissing and the slow touches.
Giles seemed fascinated by something on Xander’s face.
“What?” said Xander. “What’s so interesting?”
“You,” said Giles. “Didn’t have a chance to touch you at all that night.” He was making up for it now, touching him everywhere, his eyes locked on Xander’s. His hand moved down and found Xander’s briefs, which were brief enough that Xander’s cock had already peeked its way out of the elastic. Giles helped it the rest of the way out.
“Never touched another man before,” Giles said, thoughtfully, stroking.
“No time like the present.”
Giles moved down between Xander’s legs. Xander scooted up a little, so he could watch. Giles seemed to be in no hurry to make good on the promise to suck him off. He was touching Xander here and there, cupping his balls for a moment, stroking down to his ass and back up, rubbing around his thighs. It was driving Xander mad.
“What’s the holdup? First time? Dunno what to do? What?”
“How hard can it be, really?” said Giles. His mouth hovered over Xander.
“Not much harder than this,” said Xander, with some difficulty. “Any time you wanna get started.”
“You need to learn patience,” said Giles. But he leaned forward that last inch and touched his tongue to Xander’s cockhead. Just a dab. Hot, soft, wet. “I’d like to take this slowly. Make sure I’m doing it right.”
“You talk too much. Got something else for that mouth to do.”
“Kettle and pot, Mr Harris.” Giles licked him, carefully, from root to tip. Xander shuddered. “Tell me what to do. Teach me.” Oh, god. He’d walked right into that one. Xander considered begging, then settled for telling Giles exactly what he could do with that hot tongue. Giles did what he was told, with some amount of voluntary experimentation with his hands. Xander stopped talking after a while. His breathing had shortened, and he’d started to thrust reflexively. Getting close. Very close. So of course Giles chose that moment to back off. Xander whimpered in protest.
“Tell me what you want.”
“Wanna come in your mouth. Wanna be your first. The first guy you swallow.”
Giles licked him, gently, all the way around the head. “And then?”
“You’re gonna fuck me. You’re gonna take me. Oh please, please make me come, make me come. Giles. Do me. Jesus!” Giles slipped a finger into him at the same moment that he took Xander deep into his mouth. Xander clutched his hands in Giles’ hair and thrust once, twice, and came wailing. Shot hard, into Giles’ throat. He felt Giles swallow. Then Giles released him and crawled up the bed to bring his face up next to Xander’s. Xander kissed him desperately. He tasted seawater, a little bitterness, but overlaid on Giles. Wide mouth, broad tongue. A guy. God, he tasted good.
Xander flopped back and let his heart rate fall. Couldn’t do anything for a minute. Giles scooted over at the nightstand and got some stuff out.
“Skip the condom,” Xander said. “Go bareback. Unless you got something to confess.”
“No, nothing.”
“Boring life, eh?”
“Hellmouth aside.”
Giles took off the jockstrap and looked grateful to have it gone. Xander watched him slick himself up. Uncircumsized. Nice shape. Thick. Thicker than the thing he and Anya had used. Xander was gonna feel that. He couldn’t wait. He pulled his knees up and waited for Giles to take the hint. Giles was taking it slow, like before, thinking about everything he did, slipping fingers inside Xander gently. Xander wanted an anvil-smash, not this slow tease. He wriggled and moaned impatiently.
“I take it that’s a hint,” said Giles, his voice husky.
“C’mon.”
Xander concentrated on the sensation of Giles pressing inside him, forcing him wide open. Giles’ eyes were closed tight, his mouth open. His face was screwed up in a look of utter concentration, almost of pain. Xander wrapped his legs around Giles’s middle and kept watching the big guy’s face. He pushed inside slowly. Xander squeezed and released, and was rewarded with a burst of obscenity from Giles. Great payoff there. Xander did it again.
“Bloody hell!”
“What’s the matter?”
“Trying not to come. Sweet Jesus.” Giles moved a little deeper in.
“Why the hell not? Fuck me. Come inside me. Wanna see you.”
Giles pulled almost all the way out then thrust back in with a harsh noise. Felt great. So intimate, letting somebody inside you like this. You were profoundly open to them. Xander wondered if it was always this way for women. Giles thrust inside again, his face transfigured with passion. Xander reached down and grabbed himself, stroking as he watched Giles move. It was unbelievable, the face of the man buried deep inside him, the utterly wonderful man who was Xander’s lover now. A week ago he was so pissed with him, thinking Giles felt contempt. Now Xander knew better, knew how Giles had loved them all, even before the spell that made them one.
“God, Giles, I love you. I love you so fucking much.”
Giles ignited at the words, and he slammed into Xander, fucking him hard as promised. Xander groaned and stroked himself faster. Giles looked out of control, like he had that first night, transported out of himself. Xander felt it building, felt his balls tighten, and clenched down hard. Giles’s cock hit the spot, hit it again, and Xander came, chest straining up, legs locked tight around Giles. Giles was swearing again, and crying out incoherently, thrusting hard one moment and the next freezing, gripping Xander’s legs and gasping. It was beautiful.
Giles pulled out and collapsed forward onto Xander’s chest. Xander felt like the Acme rocket had flattened him into the cliffside. He was a pancake. No way he was going to ever move again. He stroked Giles’ hair. Nice hair. Soft. Sweaty. Giles also wasn’t looking like moving.
Eventually Xander stirred. “Jeez, man, you need a shower.” Giles harumphed. “And so do I, thanks to you. We’re stuck together.”
Giles peeled himself away. The two went downstairs together. Giles was all business in the shower. Xander tried fiddling around with the soap and Giles’ butt, with no luck. Giles grabbed his hands. “Xander, I’m not bloody nineteen any more. If you wear me out now, I won’t be able to get it up tonight. And I do have plans involving our lovely partners.”
“Oh. Hey. That’s cool. Can’t wait to watch. Scrub my back, big guy. I’ll talk you through it if you’ve never scrubbed anybody’s back before.”
Giles groaned, but got the loofah and scrubbed. Xander’s morning was a total win.
Author: Antennapedia
Pairing: G/X (mention of B/G/W/X)
Rating: FRAO
Summary: Giles makes good on the promise he made at the end of Four nights and a revelation. Xander talks. A lot.
Notes: Written for the International Day of Slash. And only a day late! PWP pr0n.
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership and am making no money.
Distribution: Hey, whatever. Just let me know.
The Road Runner no longer starred in Xander’s lazy Saturday mornings, though sometimes Xander wished it did. Like now. Giles was off jogging. Buffy and Willow were off together at some campus event. Xander was just off. So was Giles’ busted TV. Last night had been dull, too. Buffy and Giles had gotten in from a long patrol and thunked into bed immediately. They’d been asleep too fast even for a goodnight kiss. There were no household chores to do, no big bads to research, no donuts to fetch. A good dose of meep-meep and anvils would be perfect right about now.
Xander slumped over the couch and groaned. Another hour of this and he’d start reading demonologies for fun.
The front door to the flat opened, and a sweaty Brit-guy huffed in. He stopped a pace into the main room and bent to stretch. Left hand to right foot, then right hand to left foot, then straight over, palms on the floor, for a long space of breaths. Xander watched, fascinated. Giles in blue running shorts, showing off hamstrings and calves, in a sweat-darkened white t-shirt. He stripped off the shirt and used it to mop his face and chest. Giles apparently didn’t know Xander was there. Xander, who until exactly two days ago had been 100% het-boy, but who was now enjoying the view of Giles’ chest fuzz. And the hickey on his neck, which Xander was pretty sure was his fault. And his underarms, which Giles was giving a sniff.
“Smell good?”
Giles started. “Dear lord, it’s you. I thought everyone had left.”
Xander laughed. “Not me. Do they?”
“What?”
“Smell good.”
“Like I need a shower,” Giles said, shamefaced.
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Xander hopped off the couch and invaded Giles’ space. He took a good whiff. Sweaty, with that fresh clean sweat smell, not yet yucky, and deep in it a note of pure Giles. Xander sniffed again. Wow, this was making him hard. Though god knew, Xander was nineteen and sometimes just the fact that the sun had risen that morning made him hard. It was wild that it was one, another guy, and two, Giles. What the hey. Xander pulled Giles’ face down and kissed him. This was good. Soulmate. Magical soulmate. Heart kissing the mind. Heart trying to climb inside the mind. Xander pressed himself against Giles and kissed harder.
“Steady on,” said Giles. His arms were around Xander’s waist, holding him up. Xander was a little embarrassed at how emotional he’d gotten just then.
“So, hey. What did you promise me the other night?”
Giles flushed. “Ah. Yes. That.”
“When do I get to collect?”
“Oh, ah. I rather thought… the others…”
Xander kissed him again. “We share our toys, Giles. I intend to spend quality alone time with all three of you. Lemme see when I can pencil you in. Ah… how about now?”
“I think I might have the hour free.”
Xander grabbed his hand and dragged Giles upstairs. The bed had clean sheets and nice quilt, stretched tight. Xander hated seeing such absurd neatness. He flung himself facefirst across it, then rolled. Giles sat on the edge and bent to untie his running shoes. Xander shucked his jeans and his bowling shirt. Why waste time? He crawled over to Giles and kissed his way up the bare back. Giles turned and looked at him.
“Less clothes, Giles.”
“Fewer,” said Giles, but Xander could tell his heart wasn’t in it. He pushed his running shorts down, revealing a white jock strap. Okay, no shock there. The man had been running. The jock looked like containing all of excited Giles was a strain.
“You know, if I were gay, this would be like a million fantasies come true.”
“You’re not?”
“No. I am scoob-o-sexual. Fortunately for me, I know where I can find people of my kind to mate with. Leave it on. I think I’ll make some new fantasies just for you.”
Giles smiled at him, and murmured, “You have got a mouth on you.”
“A dirty one. C’mere and kiss me. Only way to shut me-” Giles stopped his mouth in the nicest way possible. And then kept it busy for some time. Xander, if he’d had his druthers, would have already proceeded on to the getting sucked and then the getting fucked, but Giles had this thing about the hugging and the kissing and the slow touches.
Giles seemed fascinated by something on Xander’s face.
“What?” said Xander. “What’s so interesting?”
“You,” said Giles. “Didn’t have a chance to touch you at all that night.” He was making up for it now, touching him everywhere, his eyes locked on Xander’s. His hand moved down and found Xander’s briefs, which were brief enough that Xander’s cock had already peeked its way out of the elastic. Giles helped it the rest of the way out.
“Never touched another man before,” Giles said, thoughtfully, stroking.
“No time like the present.”
Giles moved down between Xander’s legs. Xander scooted up a little, so he could watch. Giles seemed to be in no hurry to make good on the promise to suck him off. He was touching Xander here and there, cupping his balls for a moment, stroking down to his ass and back up, rubbing around his thighs. It was driving Xander mad.
“What’s the holdup? First time? Dunno what to do? What?”
“How hard can it be, really?” said Giles. His mouth hovered over Xander.
“Not much harder than this,” said Xander, with some difficulty. “Any time you wanna get started.”
“You need to learn patience,” said Giles. But he leaned forward that last inch and touched his tongue to Xander’s cockhead. Just a dab. Hot, soft, wet. “I’d like to take this slowly. Make sure I’m doing it right.”
“You talk too much. Got something else for that mouth to do.”
“Kettle and pot, Mr Harris.” Giles licked him, carefully, from root to tip. Xander shuddered. “Tell me what to do. Teach me.” Oh, god. He’d walked right into that one. Xander considered begging, then settled for telling Giles exactly what he could do with that hot tongue. Giles did what he was told, with some amount of voluntary experimentation with his hands. Xander stopped talking after a while. His breathing had shortened, and he’d started to thrust reflexively. Getting close. Very close. So of course Giles chose that moment to back off. Xander whimpered in protest.
“Tell me what you want.”
“Wanna come in your mouth. Wanna be your first. The first guy you swallow.”
Giles licked him, gently, all the way around the head. “And then?”
“You’re gonna fuck me. You’re gonna take me. Oh please, please make me come, make me come. Giles. Do me. Jesus!” Giles slipped a finger into him at the same moment that he took Xander deep into his mouth. Xander clutched his hands in Giles’ hair and thrust once, twice, and came wailing. Shot hard, into Giles’ throat. He felt Giles swallow. Then Giles released him and crawled up the bed to bring his face up next to Xander’s. Xander kissed him desperately. He tasted seawater, a little bitterness, but overlaid on Giles. Wide mouth, broad tongue. A guy. God, he tasted good.
Xander flopped back and let his heart rate fall. Couldn’t do anything for a minute. Giles scooted over at the nightstand and got some stuff out.
“Skip the condom,” Xander said. “Go bareback. Unless you got something to confess.”
“No, nothing.”
“Boring life, eh?”
“Hellmouth aside.”
Giles took off the jockstrap and looked grateful to have it gone. Xander watched him slick himself up. Uncircumsized. Nice shape. Thick. Thicker than the thing he and Anya had used. Xander was gonna feel that. He couldn’t wait. He pulled his knees up and waited for Giles to take the hint. Giles was taking it slow, like before, thinking about everything he did, slipping fingers inside Xander gently. Xander wanted an anvil-smash, not this slow tease. He wriggled and moaned impatiently.
“I take it that’s a hint,” said Giles, his voice husky.
“C’mon.”
Xander concentrated on the sensation of Giles pressing inside him, forcing him wide open. Giles’ eyes were closed tight, his mouth open. His face was screwed up in a look of utter concentration, almost of pain. Xander wrapped his legs around Giles’s middle and kept watching the big guy’s face. He pushed inside slowly. Xander squeezed and released, and was rewarded with a burst of obscenity from Giles. Great payoff there. Xander did it again.
“Bloody hell!”
“What’s the matter?”
“Trying not to come. Sweet Jesus.” Giles moved a little deeper in.
“Why the hell not? Fuck me. Come inside me. Wanna see you.”
Giles pulled almost all the way out then thrust back in with a harsh noise. Felt great. So intimate, letting somebody inside you like this. You were profoundly open to them. Xander wondered if it was always this way for women. Giles thrust inside again, his face transfigured with passion. Xander reached down and grabbed himself, stroking as he watched Giles move. It was unbelievable, the face of the man buried deep inside him, the utterly wonderful man who was Xander’s lover now. A week ago he was so pissed with him, thinking Giles felt contempt. Now Xander knew better, knew how Giles had loved them all, even before the spell that made them one.
“God, Giles, I love you. I love you so fucking much.”
Giles ignited at the words, and he slammed into Xander, fucking him hard as promised. Xander groaned and stroked himself faster. Giles looked out of control, like he had that first night, transported out of himself. Xander felt it building, felt his balls tighten, and clenched down hard. Giles’s cock hit the spot, hit it again, and Xander came, chest straining up, legs locked tight around Giles. Giles was swearing again, and crying out incoherently, thrusting hard one moment and the next freezing, gripping Xander’s legs and gasping. It was beautiful.
Giles pulled out and collapsed forward onto Xander’s chest. Xander felt like the Acme rocket had flattened him into the cliffside. He was a pancake. No way he was going to ever move again. He stroked Giles’ hair. Nice hair. Soft. Sweaty. Giles also wasn’t looking like moving.
Eventually Xander stirred. “Jeez, man, you need a shower.” Giles harumphed. “And so do I, thanks to you. We’re stuck together.”
Giles peeled himself away. The two went downstairs together. Giles was all business in the shower. Xander tried fiddling around with the soap and Giles’ butt, with no luck. Giles grabbed his hands. “Xander, I’m not bloody nineteen any more. If you wear me out now, I won’t be able to get it up tonight. And I do have plans involving our lovely partners.”
“Oh. Hey. That’s cool. Can’t wait to watch. Scrub my back, big guy. I’ll talk you through it if you’ve never scrubbed anybody’s back before.”
Giles groaned, but got the loofah and scrubbed. Xander’s morning was a total win.