FIC: Temptation (You Cannot Defeat) (Giles/Xander, FRT)
Title: Temptation (You Cannot Defeat)
Author: soft_princess
Website: Fly With Me
Date: October 16, 2008
Word count: 1,110
Fandom: BtVS
Pairing: Giles/Xander
Rating: FRT
Disclaimer: Joss owns, I don't.
Spoilers/setting: Set towards the beginning of season 4. No Anya.
Summary: And every day it came back, urging him to touch, to soothe, to caress; he could almost feel it beneath his fingertips.
Note: Thanks to mireille719 for the encouragement. Written for today's prompt at the gilesxander OctoberFest; it was too big for a comment, so I'm posting it here. The prompt was: "The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it. Resist it and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself."
* * *
Giles spent most of the time he wasn't battling or researching the demon of the week telling himself that it would him no good to keep thinking of Xander the way he was. Not that he was having any overly indecent thought. Yet. But he would see the boy--man, almost a man--bent over books and be sorely tempted to run a hand through soft, brown curls. He would, if he dared, rest his hand on Xander's warm neck afterwards, his head bent down to see what the boy had found.
But he didn't. He couldn't.
And every day it came back, urging him to touch, to soothe, to caress; he could almost feel it beneath his fingertips. He held off. It was all Giles could do to keep his composure when the girls were around, when he was alone with Xander it was... hell.
So, of course, the following year, the library, no, the whole school blown to protect the students, Buffy and Willow gone off to college and back only when they emerged from their studies, Giles found himself with Xander has his only companion. With every lingering visit, every lingering smile, every lingering word spoken between them, Giles' desire could do nothing but grow.
He spent every evening, after Xander's departure, under the cold spray of the shower, denying himself any sort of release as penance for his thoughts--more and more indecent has days passed. Giles reminded himself that while Xander might not be a student anymore, he still was little more than a teenager; much too young for Giles to even attempt any kind of flirting. No matter what Giles wanted, he could not have him.
* * *
It was close to midnight when Giles was startled from his book by a knock on his door. It was quiet, almost nonexistant, but Giles' apartment had been silent and the knock sounded loud by comparison. Giles put down his book on the coffee table and brushed the wrinkles from his trousers on his way to the door. He peered into the peephole, brows furrowing in confusion. It was Xander, deathly pale and looking out of breath. Giles resisted the urge to simply open the door and craddle the boy. He grabbed a stake from the nearby table and held it in his fist, hidden from Xander's view as he opened the door. "Xander? What's wrong?"
Xander shook his head, pushing Giles out of the way and stumbling inside. He collapsed on the floor, face first, and shuddered. "Close the door," he said roughly to Giles, who was standing with his mouth opened.
Giles hastened to do it and dropped the stake in the process. There had been no invitation; Xander hadn't been turned. Giles spared a moment to thank the Powers for that mercy, and then knelt next to the boy, his hand cupping Xander's head, fingers threading into the wet strands. He had been so focused on Xander in the doorway that he hadn't noticed the rain. "Can you stand? I need to see if you have any injuries."
Xander's eyes were closed and he sighed. "Apart from the scratches on my arms, I'm fine," he murmured. "Can't move though."
"Well, let me tend to those, then I'll make up the sofa bed for you."
"Don't bother," said Xander with a croak in his voice, "Perfectly comfy floor right here."
Giles chuckled at that, and stood to fetch the first aid kit. The injuries weren't bleeding profusively, and a cursory wash was hopefully all that they would need.
"It was green," Xander said when Giles walked back. He'd turned around to look at the ceiling, but had otherwise not moved an inch. "Big and scaly and green."
"How big?" Giles asked, curiosity taking over.
"'Bout my height? Twice my weight, I think. Kind of slow."
What were you doing out after dark? Giles wanted to ask, the question burning his tongue with every second that he didn't voice it, but he held it off; he was an expert at holding things off around Xander. The urge to caress the boy's skin was stronger than ever now that Giles was patching him up. "I'll call Buffy once I've got you settled."
"Should do that first," Xander argued faintly. "Got to find it before it eats someone else."
Giles smiled ruefully and shook his head. "If it's the demon I suspect it to be, it doesn't so much eat people as want to play. It's little more than an overgrown puppy."
Xander's eyes blinked. His eyebrows lifted and he gave Giles an incredulous look. "So, you mean if I'd just thrown it a stick, it'd have gone away?"
"It would have run after it, yes," Giles said, putting away the antiseptic and reaching for the gauze. "I expect it gave you those scratches after you ran?"
"Didn't run fast enough," Xander agreed with a hiss. Giles had started wrapping his arm. "It caught up with me and jumped on me, and... Uh. Puppy, uh?"
Giles gave him another smile, then helped him to sit up. "Any other injuries to tend?"
"Just my head," Xander said. "I kind of banged it pretty hard."
"I'll find you some paracetamol." Giles closed the kit and made to stand, but Xander reached out and grabbed his arm.
"A kiss would make it better," he said, eyes searching Giles' for something.
Giles stared at him. "Xander--"
Xander let out a breath and looked away. "Never mind, I have no idea what I'm saying. Banged my head and all that."
Having plenty of experience with banged up heads, Giles knew perfectly well that Xander's faculties weren't that banged up themselves. Not if Xander had managed to get himself here afterwards. "Don't," he said, cupping Xander's cheek and forcing him to look at Giles. "Do you really think it would help?"
"Yeah." Xander gulped visibly, but didn't look away again. "Yeah, I do."
Giles' hand was burning, the feel of Xander's skin, his stubble ingraining itself into Giles' palm. He lifted his other hand and curled it around the back of Xander's neck, pulling him forward. With a soft smile for Xander, Giles pressed his lips to the boy's forehead, staying a little longer than strictly necessary. When he pulled back, hands never leaving Xander's skin, Xander was smiling too. "There, better now?"
"Yeah," Xander whispered, "much better."
Giles' desire uncurled in his breast, and he bent over once more, fingers tightening momentarily as his lips brushed over Xander's. It took a moment, no more than a second, and Xander responded, his lips pushing back, demanding.
Perhaps Giles could have him after all.
* * *
Author: soft_princess
Website: Fly With Me
Date: October 16, 2008
Word count: 1,110
Fandom: BtVS
Pairing: Giles/Xander
Rating: FRT
Disclaimer: Joss owns, I don't.
Spoilers/setting: Set towards the beginning of season 4. No Anya.
Summary: And every day it came back, urging him to touch, to soothe, to caress; he could almost feel it beneath his fingertips.
Note: Thanks to mireille719 for the encouragement. Written for today's prompt at the gilesxander OctoberFest; it was too big for a comment, so I'm posting it here. The prompt was: "The only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it. Resist it and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself."
* * *
Giles spent most of the time he wasn't battling or researching the demon of the week telling himself that it would him no good to keep thinking of Xander the way he was. Not that he was having any overly indecent thought. Yet. But he would see the boy--man, almost a man--bent over books and be sorely tempted to run a hand through soft, brown curls. He would, if he dared, rest his hand on Xander's warm neck afterwards, his head bent down to see what the boy had found.
But he didn't. He couldn't.
And every day it came back, urging him to touch, to soothe, to caress; he could almost feel it beneath his fingertips. He held off. It was all Giles could do to keep his composure when the girls were around, when he was alone with Xander it was... hell.
So, of course, the following year, the library, no, the whole school blown to protect the students, Buffy and Willow gone off to college and back only when they emerged from their studies, Giles found himself with Xander has his only companion. With every lingering visit, every lingering smile, every lingering word spoken between them, Giles' desire could do nothing but grow.
He spent every evening, after Xander's departure, under the cold spray of the shower, denying himself any sort of release as penance for his thoughts--more and more indecent has days passed. Giles reminded himself that while Xander might not be a student anymore, he still was little more than a teenager; much too young for Giles to even attempt any kind of flirting. No matter what Giles wanted, he could not have him.
* * *
It was close to midnight when Giles was startled from his book by a knock on his door. It was quiet, almost nonexistant, but Giles' apartment had been silent and the knock sounded loud by comparison. Giles put down his book on the coffee table and brushed the wrinkles from his trousers on his way to the door. He peered into the peephole, brows furrowing in confusion. It was Xander, deathly pale and looking out of breath. Giles resisted the urge to simply open the door and craddle the boy. He grabbed a stake from the nearby table and held it in his fist, hidden from Xander's view as he opened the door. "Xander? What's wrong?"
Xander shook his head, pushing Giles out of the way and stumbling inside. He collapsed on the floor, face first, and shuddered. "Close the door," he said roughly to Giles, who was standing with his mouth opened.
Giles hastened to do it and dropped the stake in the process. There had been no invitation; Xander hadn't been turned. Giles spared a moment to thank the Powers for that mercy, and then knelt next to the boy, his hand cupping Xander's head, fingers threading into the wet strands. He had been so focused on Xander in the doorway that he hadn't noticed the rain. "Can you stand? I need to see if you have any injuries."
Xander's eyes were closed and he sighed. "Apart from the scratches on my arms, I'm fine," he murmured. "Can't move though."
"Well, let me tend to those, then I'll make up the sofa bed for you."
"Don't bother," said Xander with a croak in his voice, "Perfectly comfy floor right here."
Giles chuckled at that, and stood to fetch the first aid kit. The injuries weren't bleeding profusively, and a cursory wash was hopefully all that they would need.
"It was green," Xander said when Giles walked back. He'd turned around to look at the ceiling, but had otherwise not moved an inch. "Big and scaly and green."
"How big?" Giles asked, curiosity taking over.
"'Bout my height? Twice my weight, I think. Kind of slow."
What were you doing out after dark? Giles wanted to ask, the question burning his tongue with every second that he didn't voice it, but he held it off; he was an expert at holding things off around Xander. The urge to caress the boy's skin was stronger than ever now that Giles was patching him up. "I'll call Buffy once I've got you settled."
"Should do that first," Xander argued faintly. "Got to find it before it eats someone else."
Giles smiled ruefully and shook his head. "If it's the demon I suspect it to be, it doesn't so much eat people as want to play. It's little more than an overgrown puppy."
Xander's eyes blinked. His eyebrows lifted and he gave Giles an incredulous look. "So, you mean if I'd just thrown it a stick, it'd have gone away?"
"It would have run after it, yes," Giles said, putting away the antiseptic and reaching for the gauze. "I expect it gave you those scratches after you ran?"
"Didn't run fast enough," Xander agreed with a hiss. Giles had started wrapping his arm. "It caught up with me and jumped on me, and... Uh. Puppy, uh?"
Giles gave him another smile, then helped him to sit up. "Any other injuries to tend?"
"Just my head," Xander said. "I kind of banged it pretty hard."
"I'll find you some paracetamol." Giles closed the kit and made to stand, but Xander reached out and grabbed his arm.
"A kiss would make it better," he said, eyes searching Giles' for something.
Giles stared at him. "Xander--"
Xander let out a breath and looked away. "Never mind, I have no idea what I'm saying. Banged my head and all that."
Having plenty of experience with banged up heads, Giles knew perfectly well that Xander's faculties weren't that banged up themselves. Not if Xander had managed to get himself here afterwards. "Don't," he said, cupping Xander's cheek and forcing him to look at Giles. "Do you really think it would help?"
"Yeah." Xander gulped visibly, but didn't look away again. "Yeah, I do."
Giles' hand was burning, the feel of Xander's skin, his stubble ingraining itself into Giles' palm. He lifted his other hand and curled it around the back of Xander's neck, pulling him forward. With a soft smile for Xander, Giles pressed his lips to the boy's forehead, staying a little longer than strictly necessary. When he pulled back, hands never leaving Xander's skin, Xander was smiling too. "There, better now?"
"Yeah," Xander whispered, "much better."
Giles' desire uncurled in his breast, and he bent over once more, fingers tightening momentarily as his lips brushed over Xander's. It took a moment, no more than a second, and Xander responded, his lips pushing back, demanding.
Perhaps Giles could have him after all.
* * *