Fic: Waking Up, Giles/Xander, PG-13 (FRT)
Title: Waking Up
Author: lostgirlslair
Pairing: Giles/Xander
Rating: PG-13 (FRT)
Summary: Sometimes things are easier at night.
Spoilers: Set post "Chosen."
Feedback and Concrit adored: lostgirlslair AT yahoo DOT com
Disclaimer: All things BtVS and AtS belong to Joss Whedon and various corporate entities. I am neither.
I wrote this for nme0621 and the Xander Round of maleslashminis. nme0621's requests are after the fic. I hope you like it!! Big, huge thanks to mireille719, for the beta magic!
Giles managed to peel one eye open, but for a moment nothing made sense, the fog of sleep still heavy in his head. He was in his own bed--always a relief--but the dim light showed little more than the edge of his armoire. The weight on his chest was obvious, however. He tried to look down at Xander, only to get an eye full of dark brown hair. A smile lifted his lips, memory returning and making sense of things.
Xander and he had fallen asleep after . . . Well, that didn't come as any surprise, except that a quick glance at the clock showed it to be a little past one in the morning. Xander and he hadn't ever spent a full night together; their being together at all was fairly new, just a few months. It felt both longer and shorter.
Giles's fingers were twitching to rub along the smooth, warm expanse of Xander's naked back. Strands of Xander's hair fell across his face, and Giles pressed his lips against the crown of Xander's head. Xander gave a muffled groan, shifting uneasily, and Giles remembered that it had been such a sound that woke him in the first place.
"Xander?" Giles said, as Xander shifted against him again, movements restless and jerky. Xander whimpered, the stubble on his chin scratching roughly against Giles' chest as he curled in on himself. Touching Xander's shoulder, Giles found that sweat coated Xander's back. Even the hair in Giles' face was damp.
"Xander." He shook Xander's shoulder, his touch light. Still, Xander jerked awake with a short cry. He looked around, disoriented for a heartbeat, and then laid his forehead against Giles' chest.
"Scared me," Xander said, though Giles had to strain to hear the soft, muffled words. When Xander lifted his head, there was a grin on his face, but it looked strained. Somehow, it only drew attention to Xander's slightly askew eyepatch. Xander had yet to take it off in Giles' sight, and Giles hadn't pressed the issue. Now, with Xander looking up at him, gaze still a little wild from a moment before, Giles wondered if there wasn't a reason beyond understandable vanity.
"Bad dreams?"
Xander gave him a weak smile and a shallow nod. "Occupational hazard," he said, following the strained words with a strained chuckle. Giles could feel Xander's breath gust against his chin, feel the tension where Xander's body pressed against his own.
"Why don't you stay here tonight? It's already mostly over." Giles jerked his head toward the alarm clock, though he never took his eyes off Xander. Xander glanced over and cursed under his breath.
"I've got that early flight tomorrow," Xander said, though he laid his head down on Giles' shoulder. "But my bag is already packed."
"I could drive you to Heathrow, and we could stop at your place to get it."
"I don't know," Xander said. His breathing had slowed, and Giles' hand rubbed lightly along Xander's lower back. The room was quiet for long enough that Giles began to think Xander had gone back to sleep.
"You're not going to ask what it was about?" Xander spoke so quietly that, had there been any other noise in the room, Giles might have missed it.
"Do you want to tell me?"
Another long moment passed in silence. Giles' fingertips skimmed up Xander's spine, light and soft. Xander's back arched into the touch just a little, just enough to let Giles know that Xander was considering and not sleeping.
"Caleb," Xander finally said. Giles had never heard Xander fit so much anger in one short word. He flattened his hand along Xander's back, turning his head to press his lips to the crown of Xander's head.
"Your eye?" He spoke against Xander's hair and then rubbed his lips along it, breathing deeply; Xander nodded against his lips.
"All over again."
"You never take off your eyepatch." Giles hadn't meant to say it, but Xander didn't seem surprised.
"Do you want me to?"
"I want you to feel you can."
"I knew you were going to say something like that." He felt Xander sigh against his shoulder and slid his hand up to cup the back of Xander's neck. He didn't say anything, instead waiting patiently. "It's just . . . It's not pretty."
"It doesn't, and won't, bother me."
"You don't know that," Xander said, once again moving restlessly against Giles. He pulled back, laying his hands one on top of the other on Giles' chest, and then propping his chin on them. "I know you think it won't, but . . . I don't want to screw this up."
"You can't," Giles said simply, meeting Xander's gaze and holding it. He gave a small smile, reaching out to brush his fingers along Xander's cheek.
Xander gave a short, bitter bark of laughter. His gaze flicked away from Giles', though his fingers moved against Giles' chest. Xander probably wasn't even aware of it. "Remember who you're talking to, here. All of Sunnydale's women under a love spell, except the girl I was aiming for? I can screw up anything."
Giles squeezed Xander's neck gently, waiting to speak until Xander finally looked up at him. "You're not that boy anymore. And I am nothing like a volatile school girl."
Xander snorted. "Anya," he finally said, the word falling from his lips like lead into deep water. Ripples of silence spread out from it. It was the first time Giles had heard Xander say her name in over a year. The first time Xander had talked about her since she'd died. "I screwed that up and look what . . ." Xander shook his head, though his chin remained still.
Giles rubbed his hand down Xander's spine and raised his other to lay it against Xander's face. "Her death was not your fault."
"Maybe not," Xander said, raising one shoulder in a shrug that was not as casual as Xander wanted it to appear. "But if . . . If I'd stayed, if we'd gotten married . . . maybe she would have been happier before . . ."
"You're not that young man anymore, either," Giles said, his fingers brushing along Xander's stubbled jaw line.
Xander snorted again, though he pushed his cheek into his touch. Giles didn't bother to elaborate, not when Xander would dismiss whatever he said. He knew Xander honestly didn't see the changes in himself, didn't see how he'd grown over the last year.
Silence once again filled the room. Xander seemed thoughtful, his eye focused on Giles' chin. Giles didn't want to interrupt him, and there was no reason to hurry. Despite his early flight, Giles didn't think Xander would be ready to sleep again for a little while yet, and Giles . . . Well, it was rare Giles slept a full night anyway, even when he managed to be in bed before it was technically morning.
Xander finally met his gaze, and Giles realized that he could feel Xander's heart pounding. Xander nodded, and he didn't have to say anything else. Sliding his fingers up along Xander's cheek, Giles gave him plenty of time to change his mind. He didn't want to force this. He wanted Xander to feel comfortable about this, wanted Xander to believe that it didn't matter. And the injury itself didn't, but Xander trusting him enough to feel comfortable, that mattered, more than Giles wanted to admit.
Giles ran his fingers along the band and then slid them under. He paused there, looking Xander in the eye. "No more secrets?"
"No more secrets," Xander agreed in a whisper. Giles pushed the eyepatch up. He didn't take his gaze from Xander's face, his free hand still rubbing circles along Xander's lower back. He could feel Xander's tension, his muscles straining under Giles' fingers in a way completely unlike they had earlier that night.
Giles skimmed his fingertips along Xander's eyebrow, down his nose and over Xander's cheek and then he stretched his neck, leaning down to brush his lips lightly over Xander's eyebrow. He leaned back again and found Xander looking at him with a weak smile.
"Okay?" Xander asked.
"Perfectly." Giles said, tossing Xander's eyepatch onto the nightstand.
"I think . . . I think I will stay tonight." Xander laid his head on Giles' shoulder again.
Giles nodded, his smile widening. "Sweet dreams."
"Probably," Xander replied, his lips brushing Giles' collarbone.
Giles reached over and managed to set the alarm clock one-handed before he wrapped both arms around Xander and closed his eyes, the soft sound of Xander's breathing lulling him to sleep.
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Male character they want paired with Xander: Giles
Things they want in the fic: Post-angst comfort, soft touches, and "No more secrets."
Author: lostgirlslair
Pairing: Giles/Xander
Rating: PG-13 (FRT)
Summary: Sometimes things are easier at night.
Spoilers: Set post "Chosen."
Feedback and Concrit adored: lostgirlslair AT yahoo DOT com
Disclaimer: All things BtVS and AtS belong to Joss Whedon and various corporate entities. I am neither.
I wrote this for nme0621 and the Xander Round of maleslashminis. nme0621's requests are after the fic. I hope you like it!! Big, huge thanks to mireille719, for the beta magic!
Giles managed to peel one eye open, but for a moment nothing made sense, the fog of sleep still heavy in his head. He was in his own bed--always a relief--but the dim light showed little more than the edge of his armoire. The weight on his chest was obvious, however. He tried to look down at Xander, only to get an eye full of dark brown hair. A smile lifted his lips, memory returning and making sense of things.
Xander and he had fallen asleep after . . . Well, that didn't come as any surprise, except that a quick glance at the clock showed it to be a little past one in the morning. Xander and he hadn't ever spent a full night together; their being together at all was fairly new, just a few months. It felt both longer and shorter.
Giles's fingers were twitching to rub along the smooth, warm expanse of Xander's naked back. Strands of Xander's hair fell across his face, and Giles pressed his lips against the crown of Xander's head. Xander gave a muffled groan, shifting uneasily, and Giles remembered that it had been such a sound that woke him in the first place.
"Xander?" Giles said, as Xander shifted against him again, movements restless and jerky. Xander whimpered, the stubble on his chin scratching roughly against Giles' chest as he curled in on himself. Touching Xander's shoulder, Giles found that sweat coated Xander's back. Even the hair in Giles' face was damp.
"Xander." He shook Xander's shoulder, his touch light. Still, Xander jerked awake with a short cry. He looked around, disoriented for a heartbeat, and then laid his forehead against Giles' chest.
"Scared me," Xander said, though Giles had to strain to hear the soft, muffled words. When Xander lifted his head, there was a grin on his face, but it looked strained. Somehow, it only drew attention to Xander's slightly askew eyepatch. Xander had yet to take it off in Giles' sight, and Giles hadn't pressed the issue. Now, with Xander looking up at him, gaze still a little wild from a moment before, Giles wondered if there wasn't a reason beyond understandable vanity.
"Bad dreams?"
Xander gave him a weak smile and a shallow nod. "Occupational hazard," he said, following the strained words with a strained chuckle. Giles could feel Xander's breath gust against his chin, feel the tension where Xander's body pressed against his own.
"Why don't you stay here tonight? It's already mostly over." Giles jerked his head toward the alarm clock, though he never took his eyes off Xander. Xander glanced over and cursed under his breath.
"I've got that early flight tomorrow," Xander said, though he laid his head down on Giles' shoulder. "But my bag is already packed."
"I could drive you to Heathrow, and we could stop at your place to get it."
"I don't know," Xander said. His breathing had slowed, and Giles' hand rubbed lightly along Xander's lower back. The room was quiet for long enough that Giles began to think Xander had gone back to sleep.
"You're not going to ask what it was about?" Xander spoke so quietly that, had there been any other noise in the room, Giles might have missed it.
"Do you want to tell me?"
Another long moment passed in silence. Giles' fingertips skimmed up Xander's spine, light and soft. Xander's back arched into the touch just a little, just enough to let Giles know that Xander was considering and not sleeping.
"Caleb," Xander finally said. Giles had never heard Xander fit so much anger in one short word. He flattened his hand along Xander's back, turning his head to press his lips to the crown of Xander's head.
"Your eye?" He spoke against Xander's hair and then rubbed his lips along it, breathing deeply; Xander nodded against his lips.
"All over again."
"You never take off your eyepatch." Giles hadn't meant to say it, but Xander didn't seem surprised.
"Do you want me to?"
"I want you to feel you can."
"I knew you were going to say something like that." He felt Xander sigh against his shoulder and slid his hand up to cup the back of Xander's neck. He didn't say anything, instead waiting patiently. "It's just . . . It's not pretty."
"It doesn't, and won't, bother me."
"You don't know that," Xander said, once again moving restlessly against Giles. He pulled back, laying his hands one on top of the other on Giles' chest, and then propping his chin on them. "I know you think it won't, but . . . I don't want to screw this up."
"You can't," Giles said simply, meeting Xander's gaze and holding it. He gave a small smile, reaching out to brush his fingers along Xander's cheek.
Xander gave a short, bitter bark of laughter. His gaze flicked away from Giles', though his fingers moved against Giles' chest. Xander probably wasn't even aware of it. "Remember who you're talking to, here. All of Sunnydale's women under a love spell, except the girl I was aiming for? I can screw up anything."
Giles squeezed Xander's neck gently, waiting to speak until Xander finally looked up at him. "You're not that boy anymore. And I am nothing like a volatile school girl."
Xander snorted. "Anya," he finally said, the word falling from his lips like lead into deep water. Ripples of silence spread out from it. It was the first time Giles had heard Xander say her name in over a year. The first time Xander had talked about her since she'd died. "I screwed that up and look what . . ." Xander shook his head, though his chin remained still.
Giles rubbed his hand down Xander's spine and raised his other to lay it against Xander's face. "Her death was not your fault."
"Maybe not," Xander said, raising one shoulder in a shrug that was not as casual as Xander wanted it to appear. "But if . . . If I'd stayed, if we'd gotten married . . . maybe she would have been happier before . . ."
"You're not that young man anymore, either," Giles said, his fingers brushing along Xander's stubbled jaw line.
Xander snorted again, though he pushed his cheek into his touch. Giles didn't bother to elaborate, not when Xander would dismiss whatever he said. He knew Xander honestly didn't see the changes in himself, didn't see how he'd grown over the last year.
Silence once again filled the room. Xander seemed thoughtful, his eye focused on Giles' chin. Giles didn't want to interrupt him, and there was no reason to hurry. Despite his early flight, Giles didn't think Xander would be ready to sleep again for a little while yet, and Giles . . . Well, it was rare Giles slept a full night anyway, even when he managed to be in bed before it was technically morning.
Xander finally met his gaze, and Giles realized that he could feel Xander's heart pounding. Xander nodded, and he didn't have to say anything else. Sliding his fingers up along Xander's cheek, Giles gave him plenty of time to change his mind. He didn't want to force this. He wanted Xander to feel comfortable about this, wanted Xander to believe that it didn't matter. And the injury itself didn't, but Xander trusting him enough to feel comfortable, that mattered, more than Giles wanted to admit.
Giles ran his fingers along the band and then slid them under. He paused there, looking Xander in the eye. "No more secrets?"
"No more secrets," Xander agreed in a whisper. Giles pushed the eyepatch up. He didn't take his gaze from Xander's face, his free hand still rubbing circles along Xander's lower back. He could feel Xander's tension, his muscles straining under Giles' fingers in a way completely unlike they had earlier that night.
Giles skimmed his fingertips along Xander's eyebrow, down his nose and over Xander's cheek and then he stretched his neck, leaning down to brush his lips lightly over Xander's eyebrow. He leaned back again and found Xander looking at him with a weak smile.
"Okay?" Xander asked.
"Perfectly." Giles said, tossing Xander's eyepatch onto the nightstand.
"I think . . . I think I will stay tonight." Xander laid his head on Giles' shoulder again.
Giles nodded, his smile widening. "Sweet dreams."
"Probably," Xander replied, his lips brushing Giles' collarbone.
Giles reached over and managed to set the alarm clock one-handed before he wrapped both arms around Xander and closed his eyes, the soft sound of Xander's breathing lulling him to sleep.
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Male character they want paired with Xander: Giles
Things they want in the fic: Post-angst comfort, soft touches, and "No more secrets."