Fic: "Love Over Gold III", Giles/Michael (from the coffee commercials ;^), Rated PG
Love Over Gold III
Written for the “Happy Birthday ASH!” ficathon, masterlist here!
Word: “Emerald”
Pairing/Fandom: Giles/Michael - BtVS/Gold Blend Coffee Commercials
Disclaimer: Not my characters. They belong to Joss and a coffee company and a bunch of others who aren’t me.
Summary: Michael recalls his favorite birthday gift and Giles tries to top it.
A/N: Yes, this is a resurfacing of my sick little Giles/Michael pairing - always a blast to write! You can find previous installments here: Love Over Gold I and Love Over Gold II
“Tell me about the best birthday gift you ever received,” Giles whispered, running a finger along the rim of his coffee cup, using the hand that wasn’t intertwined across the table with Michael’s. The candlelight flickered, creating soft shadows on his face and reflecting dots of light in his eyes as they sat at the corner booth away from prying eyes. For some reason, people still kept mistaking them for brothers, and it was far easier to grab a snog or two without raising eyebrows an inch or two.
“Well, I could say something completely raunchy about plans involving tonight and your backside,” Michael replied with a sly grin, bringing their clasped hands closer and kissing Rupert’s knuckles like a proper rogue, and earning a deep chuckle as his reward.
“No, honestly.”
“Alright, then.” This time his smile was soft, genuine and reflective. “I was twelve, and I wanted a bike. Well…actually I had a bike, but that was its own childhood trauma all in itself. It had been Cheryl’s,” he said, referring to his older sister with a groan, “It was purple...no, lavender. With tassels. You can imagine I didn’t dare ride it. Ever. I regret to say that the day dear Billy Miles saw me perched on it was the day I earned a nickname it took me a year to live down.”
He paused for a moment.
“Did you have a bike?”
Giles shook his head. “No. I had a horse.”
Michael looked at him incredulously for a moment. “Yeah, well, in my neighborhood, bikes were a status symbol. If you were cool, you had a cool bike. And vice versa. I knew exactly the bike I wanted, too. The coolest. It was a Raleigh Sprite 10 speed with Benelux Mark VII gearing, hand breaks, leather saddle…and bright, shining Flamboyant Emerald Green with Sunset Yellow stripes.” Michael’s eyes shown with a boy’s pride, and Giles caught a flash of the breathtaking green that so mysteriously echoed in his own mirror image.
“I started dropping hints all over the place in October, hoping I’d get it for Christmas.” He made a face. “But instead I got a perfectly dreadful jacket and the entire series of Bond novels by Flemming. Great books, by the way, but certainly no replacement for a bicycle.
“Well, birthdays weren’t exactly a big deal in my family then. Just a few friends for ice cream and maybe a trip to the local league hall for a game of skittles or the like, but my family wasn’t exactly wealthy, so Christmas had pretty much been my only hope. I got down on my knees in my jammies at night though, and mentioned to God in my prayers that I sure would like to have that bike. I think I even tried to strike a deal or two about being good and not picking on my younger brother and the like,” he giggled.
“Then I found it. A few days before my birthday, I was poking around in the closet and found a wrapped box with my name on it. I was devastated. I didn’t know if I’d be getting a gift at all, but that cinched it, you know? There was no way a bike could have fit in that box, and it didn’t matter what it was…if it wasn’t the bike, I didn’t really want it.
“So the day rolls around and mum’s making a chocolate cake and cooking my favorite chicken dinner. They light the candles, sing the song, and then they bring out the box. I’m kinda glad I already knew or I think I would have cried right there. But I opened it.
“And it was a helmet! Mum always was a worrier you see, but they gave me that helmet and told me to go outside…and there she was. All bright and green and gleaming. I rode that bike for the next hour until they dragged me inside, and the next day I was right back out there. Lord, I liked that bike…”
Giles leaned in, entranced by the look of ecstatic joy in the memory, and Michael met him halfway, mouth warm and eager. “Do you still have it?” Giles murmured before nibbling on a lower lip.
Michael kissed him again before pulling back. “Nah, sold it eventually. Too bad. It’d be worth a fortune.”
“Ah well.” Giles smiled, thanking Michael for the story, at any rate. “I suppose I’ve got to try pretty hard to top that, then.”
Michael grinned. “You do.”
Not that Rupert hadn’t tried pretty hard already - they were at a fabulous Dutch resort on holiday, dining well, and most of the weekend even better off in the hotel bedroom. They’d just eaten a fabulous meal followed by a fabulous desert, but they’d come here, to this rather quaint but romantic place to finish the evening with a cup of coffee. “Close your eyes.”
He obliged and felt Rupert’s hand pull away and heard rustling as the other man moved around. “Open them.”
Michael did and he felt his heart skip a beat. Rupert was beside the table now, down on one knee, taking his hand again. People had largely not noticed them before, but they were looking now as if knowing that something important and worth watching was about to take place.
“I…I’m sorry. I must look dreadfully silly,” he whispered, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “I didn’t think they’d all watch.” He licked his lips and smiled nervously and Michael just shook his head mutely. No. Not silly. Not at all.
“Go on,” Michael managed. Oddly enough, it seemed he was the one tembling.
“Michael,” Giles began, but a smiling woman in a flamboyant red dress in a table not far away called out, “Speak up so we can hear!” Others laughed and agreed.
“Michael,” Giles began, more sheepishly, but obligingly louder, realizing now the audience was there whether he wanted them or not. “I want to ask you something. I mean…well, I wanted to know… Let me start over.”
He took a shaky breath and began again. “I…I didn’t ever think I’d have this, Michael. I feel like…like I’ve found my other half. I can share everything with you, the good and the bad, and, well, the downright outlandishly strange parts of my life,” he smiled a bit at the private joke, knowing the other’s in the restaurant couldn’t even understand the half - or thousandth of it. Demons and vampires wasn’t a subject broached casually, and lord knows Michael hadn’t taken well to it at first…until he’d seen it.
“You understand me. And in turn you give me so much. There are times…I don’t remember what it was like without you. Before you moved in next door and I needed a bit of coffee. I thought since it started with coffee I should do this over coffee” Another laugh. “Just to talk to you makes my day so much brighter. To hold you…well,” he blushed, mindful again of the audience. “I hope…I hope you feel the same.” He stopped. And waited.
Michael realized he was waiting for him, and he choked. “Yes. Of course Rupert. I’ve never been happier.”
“Then…” he reached into his pocket with his free hand, brought out a velvet box, and snapped it open. Inside were nestled two rings, identical in every way, but obviously uniquely designed. Each had a trio of large, perfect emeralds and a smaller stone, a perfect brown sapphire that glowed golden in the light, all set in a foursquare in a thick masculine gold band. The design was fantastic, perfect, and Michael recognized it instantly. Their physical resemblance had always been rather shocking, even to them, but the birthmark they both shared… Michael put a hand to Giles’ cheek, looking again at those emerald pools that stared back at him, the left flecked with just the tiniest patch of hazel. “I’d like you to have these, Michael. I’d like you to wear one and allow me to wear the other for as long as you will.”
Instead of saying anything, Michael took the ring box in his trembling hands and slipped one of the rings onto the ring finger of his left hand without hesitation. Then he took Rupert’s. “A very long time,” he said as he slipped on the other ring.
In a moment of not really thinking clearly, he scrambled out of his seat to kneel on the floor himself and pull Rupert into a heady kiss. He tried to put his all into it, tried to express exactly how he felt. He barely heard the others in the café whistling and clapping.
Finally he pulled away. “Good god this floor is hard,” he giggled.
Giles laughed and helped him up with a groan. “I know. My knee was killing me.” He was smiling ear to ear.
They tried to pay, but the server winked and told them it was on the house.
“So…did I beat the bike?” Giles asked as they walked out, hand in hand.
Michael looked confused for a moment.
“Did I manage to give you the best birthday gift ever?”
Michael got a wicked glint in his eye. “Well,” he said, smirking, “it was a very nice bike.” He ducked, but the slug to his shoulder was very well deserved indeed.
Written for the “Happy Birthday ASH!” ficathon, masterlist here!
Word: “Emerald”
Pairing/Fandom: Giles/Michael - BtVS/Gold Blend Coffee Commercials
Disclaimer: Not my characters. They belong to Joss and a coffee company and a bunch of others who aren’t me.
Summary: Michael recalls his favorite birthday gift and Giles tries to top it.
A/N: Yes, this is a resurfacing of my sick little Giles/Michael pairing - always a blast to write! You can find previous installments here: Love Over Gold I and Love Over Gold II
“Tell me about the best birthday gift you ever received,” Giles whispered, running a finger along the rim of his coffee cup, using the hand that wasn’t intertwined across the table with Michael’s. The candlelight flickered, creating soft shadows on his face and reflecting dots of light in his eyes as they sat at the corner booth away from prying eyes. For some reason, people still kept mistaking them for brothers, and it was far easier to grab a snog or two without raising eyebrows an inch or two.
“Well, I could say something completely raunchy about plans involving tonight and your backside,” Michael replied with a sly grin, bringing their clasped hands closer and kissing Rupert’s knuckles like a proper rogue, and earning a deep chuckle as his reward.
“No, honestly.”
“Alright, then.” This time his smile was soft, genuine and reflective. “I was twelve, and I wanted a bike. Well…actually I had a bike, but that was its own childhood trauma all in itself. It had been Cheryl’s,” he said, referring to his older sister with a groan, “It was purple...no, lavender. With tassels. You can imagine I didn’t dare ride it. Ever. I regret to say that the day dear Billy Miles saw me perched on it was the day I earned a nickname it took me a year to live down.”
He paused for a moment.
“Did you have a bike?”
Giles shook his head. “No. I had a horse.”
Michael looked at him incredulously for a moment. “Yeah, well, in my neighborhood, bikes were a status symbol. If you were cool, you had a cool bike. And vice versa. I knew exactly the bike I wanted, too. The coolest. It was a Raleigh Sprite 10 speed with Benelux Mark VII gearing, hand breaks, leather saddle…and bright, shining Flamboyant Emerald Green with Sunset Yellow stripes.” Michael’s eyes shown with a boy’s pride, and Giles caught a flash of the breathtaking green that so mysteriously echoed in his own mirror image.
“I started dropping hints all over the place in October, hoping I’d get it for Christmas.” He made a face. “But instead I got a perfectly dreadful jacket and the entire series of Bond novels by Flemming. Great books, by the way, but certainly no replacement for a bicycle.
“Well, birthdays weren’t exactly a big deal in my family then. Just a few friends for ice cream and maybe a trip to the local league hall for a game of skittles or the like, but my family wasn’t exactly wealthy, so Christmas had pretty much been my only hope. I got down on my knees in my jammies at night though, and mentioned to God in my prayers that I sure would like to have that bike. I think I even tried to strike a deal or two about being good and not picking on my younger brother and the like,” he giggled.
“Then I found it. A few days before my birthday, I was poking around in the closet and found a wrapped box with my name on it. I was devastated. I didn’t know if I’d be getting a gift at all, but that cinched it, you know? There was no way a bike could have fit in that box, and it didn’t matter what it was…if it wasn’t the bike, I didn’t really want it.
“So the day rolls around and mum’s making a chocolate cake and cooking my favorite chicken dinner. They light the candles, sing the song, and then they bring out the box. I’m kinda glad I already knew or I think I would have cried right there. But I opened it.
“And it was a helmet! Mum always was a worrier you see, but they gave me that helmet and told me to go outside…and there she was. All bright and green and gleaming. I rode that bike for the next hour until they dragged me inside, and the next day I was right back out there. Lord, I liked that bike…”
Giles leaned in, entranced by the look of ecstatic joy in the memory, and Michael met him halfway, mouth warm and eager. “Do you still have it?” Giles murmured before nibbling on a lower lip.
Michael kissed him again before pulling back. “Nah, sold it eventually. Too bad. It’d be worth a fortune.”
“Ah well.” Giles smiled, thanking Michael for the story, at any rate. “I suppose I’ve got to try pretty hard to top that, then.”
Michael grinned. “You do.”
Not that Rupert hadn’t tried pretty hard already - they were at a fabulous Dutch resort on holiday, dining well, and most of the weekend even better off in the hotel bedroom. They’d just eaten a fabulous meal followed by a fabulous desert, but they’d come here, to this rather quaint but romantic place to finish the evening with a cup of coffee. “Close your eyes.”
He obliged and felt Rupert’s hand pull away and heard rustling as the other man moved around. “Open them.”
Michael did and he felt his heart skip a beat. Rupert was beside the table now, down on one knee, taking his hand again. People had largely not noticed them before, but they were looking now as if knowing that something important and worth watching was about to take place.
“I…I’m sorry. I must look dreadfully silly,” he whispered, throwing a glance over his shoulder. “I didn’t think they’d all watch.” He licked his lips and smiled nervously and Michael just shook his head mutely. No. Not silly. Not at all.
“Go on,” Michael managed. Oddly enough, it seemed he was the one tembling.
“Michael,” Giles began, but a smiling woman in a flamboyant red dress in a table not far away called out, “Speak up so we can hear!” Others laughed and agreed.
“Michael,” Giles began, more sheepishly, but obligingly louder, realizing now the audience was there whether he wanted them or not. “I want to ask you something. I mean…well, I wanted to know… Let me start over.”
He took a shaky breath and began again. “I…I didn’t ever think I’d have this, Michael. I feel like…like I’ve found my other half. I can share everything with you, the good and the bad, and, well, the downright outlandishly strange parts of my life,” he smiled a bit at the private joke, knowing the other’s in the restaurant couldn’t even understand the half - or thousandth of it. Demons and vampires wasn’t a subject broached casually, and lord knows Michael hadn’t taken well to it at first…until he’d seen it.
“You understand me. And in turn you give me so much. There are times…I don’t remember what it was like without you. Before you moved in next door and I needed a bit of coffee. I thought since it started with coffee I should do this over coffee” Another laugh. “Just to talk to you makes my day so much brighter. To hold you…well,” he blushed, mindful again of the audience. “I hope…I hope you feel the same.” He stopped. And waited.
Michael realized he was waiting for him, and he choked. “Yes. Of course Rupert. I’ve never been happier.”
“Then…” he reached into his pocket with his free hand, brought out a velvet box, and snapped it open. Inside were nestled two rings, identical in every way, but obviously uniquely designed. Each had a trio of large, perfect emeralds and a smaller stone, a perfect brown sapphire that glowed golden in the light, all set in a foursquare in a thick masculine gold band. The design was fantastic, perfect, and Michael recognized it instantly. Their physical resemblance had always been rather shocking, even to them, but the birthmark they both shared… Michael put a hand to Giles’ cheek, looking again at those emerald pools that stared back at him, the left flecked with just the tiniest patch of hazel. “I’d like you to have these, Michael. I’d like you to wear one and allow me to wear the other for as long as you will.”
Instead of saying anything, Michael took the ring box in his trembling hands and slipped one of the rings onto the ring finger of his left hand without hesitation. Then he took Rupert’s. “A very long time,” he said as he slipped on the other ring.
In a moment of not really thinking clearly, he scrambled out of his seat to kneel on the floor himself and pull Rupert into a heady kiss. He tried to put his all into it, tried to express exactly how he felt. He barely heard the others in the café whistling and clapping.
Finally he pulled away. “Good god this floor is hard,” he giggled.
Giles laughed and helped him up with a groan. “I know. My knee was killing me.” He was smiling ear to ear.
They tried to pay, but the server winked and told them it was on the house.
“So…did I beat the bike?” Giles asked as they walked out, hand in hand.
Michael looked confused for a moment.
“Did I manage to give you the best birthday gift ever?”
Michael got a wicked glint in his eye. “Well,” he said, smirking, “it was a very nice bike.” He ducked, but the slug to his shoulder was very well deserved indeed.