Just Enough: Part 5/5
Giles forced his breathing to relax and willed control over his arousal to back it away from release. Then he took the proffered knife and sat up. Briefly he examined the wound on his lower leg and saw that it was, indeed, nearly closed, looking much older and far better than it had. The idea of his own body healing so quickly astounded him and made him wonder again that the reports hadn’t done more justice to the topic. Still, he realized that it was probably due to the fact that not many Watchers had previously been in such a position to find out in so much detail. Turning his attention back to the weapon in his hand, Giles wrinkled his brow. “Are you certain? I don’t want to hurt you. If this game goes too far…”
“I was a playmate of Angelus, you might recall. That should tell you all you need to know about some of the experiences I’ve had.”
The green eyes grew stormy and the Watcher’s mouth set in a hard, firm line. “Regardless of what I might have done to you earlier tonight, I do not want to be like him.”
A finger reached up to smooth the lines of anger from the corners of the human’s mouth. “The difference is, you won’t be doing this to be cruel. I’ll hurt, but it’ll be about claiming each other ‘cause no one else wants us, yeah? You do what you want to do and make it beautiful. Your hot little mouth will be enough to ease the hurt, I’m quite sure.” Spike laid back on the bed and spread himself as he closed his eyes. “Probably shouldn’t, but I’m trusting you.”
The words caused Giles some surprise, but he met the vampire’s gaze and realized they seemed to be genuine. Spike WAS prepared to trust him in such a vulnerable position. Giles could very likely find a way to kill him with the knife, and, if not, could certainly make life miserable…and yet. He leaned down and their lips met again briefly. “Promise; for tonight, at least, I promise,” Giles breathed, and Spike nodded in acceptance that the Watcher wouldn’t do anything he, himself, didn’t want. There was no need for a similar reassurance on his side; the chip ensured that far more effectively than words ever could.
“No peeking.” Spike waited, expecting to feel the bite of steel and trying to anticipate where the Watcher would choose. He was surprised when he felt the wide flat of the cool metal caress his cheek instead, first on one side, then the other. It traced along his neck and, for a breathless moment, pressed just short of breaking the skin at his throat. Forgetting his lack of a requirement to breathe, Spike found himself panting slightly when it moved on, down the center of his chest then following the hard lines of the muscles outward. It traveled back up the shoulders and then down along the arms, left, then the right. It reached his abdomen, and slapped down hard, causing him to suck in and contract the muscles as the knife traced the outline of the rib cage and circled outward, just short of the base of his cock, where the medium brown curls sprang thickly forth. Next, it found the hollows in his hips, and moved down along the inner thigh. Spike could tell the tip was pointed in dangerous directions and fought hard against the resulting need to thrust upward that such knowledge created in him, gripping the sheets tightly and fisting them instead.
“Don’t twitch,” Giles warned. “It won’t be my fault if you do.” That made the vampire nervous, uncertain, until he felt the flat metal against his scrotum, pushing down and making him want to release. Moments later the pressure was removed. Then he felt it against his upturned cock and practically gasped. “You come and you’re going to regret it,” the voice cautioned, and using the steel will Angelus had first taught him over a century ago, Spike forcefully reigned himself in.
“God, Watcher! Cut me, already!”
Giles gathered his courage, knowing he’d be walking a fine line and wanting desperately to keep this an enjoyable experience for both of them, but also knowing this was his chance to establish his power. “Oh, I’ll cut you. I’ll make pretty designs in that skin, and they’ll be lovely and red before they fade to pink on white and finally nothing at all. But for those moments when the blood flows, you’ll be marked as mine,” his voice responded thick and husky.
Spike delighted in it, knowing he was once again releasing those aspects of Giles’ personality that were hidden from the rest of the group most of the time, but were rich with darkness, lust, and play. “Want that,” Spike agreed, incapable of full sentences. “Want you to carve your art on me. Make the pain pretty and sharp, then suck it better.”
“Yes.” Giles agreed. Then Spike tensed, feeling the first quicksilver sting as the knife finally bit into him in the exact place he’d cut himself before, though much shallower this time. “Do you feel it? Do you feel it opening you to me? Feel the pain that comes, telling you where the knife is, but spreading out more and more until you can’t tell where it begins and where it ends?” It continued on in a steady line, swiveling and turning, biting and burning, out along the tops of his pecs all the way to the shoulders then down along his belly. The knife would swirl in long shallow cuts, then lift and do a few quick jabs of what seemed to be detail work. For a few seconds, it felt like his entire chest was being bathed in sunlight, searing his flesh, but then the endorphins kicked in and he practically sang with each touch of the blade. The slight whimpers turned to signs and moans.
Spike had set him a challenge, and Giles intended to accept it. He worked quickly, years of weapons training having taught him skill as fine as any craftsman, and the knowledge that he was fighting the vampire’s healing powers urging him to finish it faster. Within a few minutes, he had the outline, and allowed himself to put the knife aside and pause while he lapped up the red pearls where they welled in the shallow designs, tracing the fine lines with his tongue. He sensed his own touch was healing to the vampire when the wounds seemed to close beneath his ministrations, and mentally credited this to the sharing of blood as well, knowing of no other reason why a human could do such a thing to a vampire.
The lines stayed angry and red, however, like welts along the skin, refusing to immediately fade as he’d hoped they would. He’d noticed the line from the earlier cut had still shown bright against the vampire’s skin when he began, and, if all went as he planned, the design would stay around long enough to be complete.
Next, he took the knife and cut deeper along some of the more important elements of the design, bringing forth more than just a few drops from each wound this time. He’d done similar works with finger-paints or coal, and the new medium proved only slightly more difficult as he dipped his finger in the blood and smeared it outward, shading and filling in the artwork.
“Shit, Watcher, can I see?” Spike begged, knowing better than to open his eyes and glance down without permission. There were unspoken rules they both knew, and that was certainly one of them. Still, the feel of the tongue had driven him wild, but now that Giles was beginning again, he didn’t want to miss what had been so carefully laid out on his body the first time.
“When it’s finished,” he affirmed. “It’s my own tattoo in your flesh, and I want you to see it, but not until it’s done.” He made a point of pressing his finger down hard, letting Spike feel its presence as he moved it in long swipes or tiny circles. He made a particular point of doing so at the edges of the wound, noting how it made Spike flinch and growl in the back of his throat, occasionally even causing the weeping cock to twitch slightly as well.
Finally he took the knife and made a few quick hard jabs deeper still, so that the blood pooled up quick and bright.
“Open your eyes, Spike. Quick now, before it starts to fade or run.”
The vampire did, and stared down at his chest, taking in the sketch of the dragon whose outspread wings sprang outward from the center of his chest, up along his shoulders with pinions ending in the upper arms, the webbing filling the rest of his chest and following the ribs. Where the wings met, the creature’s neck arched down to a blocky head that turned down and out under the righthand nipple. The neck, in turn, attached to a body from which hung the bent arms and outspread legs until it tapered into a tail that curled down around Spike’s abdomen and whipped into a final arch just above the hair over his genitals. It was simple, but the shape was unmistakable, and the shaded lines highlighted the spines of the wings and the shape of the body. Blood dripped from fangs that peaked out of the slash of a mouth and from the talons on the ends of the arms and legs.
“That’s me?” Spike asked, voice cracking slightly, finding it hard to believe that what he was seeing was actually spread out on his own body.
Giles nodded. “In some Saxon myths, the dragon drank the blood of its victims before it killed them, and was essentially an evil creature, but it could be harnessed to fight for either the light or the dark.” He dipped his finger to catch a rivulet of blood that ran from one of the fangs, smearing it slightly before he brought it up to his mouth to lick it clean. “Like it?”
“Hell, yeah. I feel like my hide should be hanging in a museum. That true? That really a myth and not something you made up just now?”
Giles shrugged and smiled as he leaned down to kiss the dragon’s mouth and lap up more of the blood. “Does it matter? I could lie to you either way.”
“Bloody good story, anyway,” Spike admitted grudgingly, arching slightly into that hot mouth and the marvelous feel of that suction against his skin, as the Watcher continued to clean him. As he groaned involuntarily, Spike found himself wondering about the possible truth in the vampiric lore about just how rewarding a relationship with a consort could be. If one was going to seek comfort, what a hell of a way to do it-far better than any of the tricks he’d learned with Angelus and Dru if his experiences thus far held true. Just then, a free hand found its way to his scrotum, fondling his balls, and he lost the train of thought.
The last of the cuts finally closed, leaving the design behind though it was already fading from angry red to pink. Giles worked his way up, lipping along the breastbone until he reached the vampire’s neck. He began to suck and lick once more, while his hands found the nipples, pinching and rolling them. He could feel the vampire’s rumble play out against his lips and tongue through the skin of the creature’s throat. As a reward, Giles began to grind his own erection into the one he felt hard beneath him, knowing it was creating a delicious friction for both of them.
Spike almost felt his eyes roll back. Trust a Watcher to find the most sensitive spot on a vampire’s anatomy-the spot on the side of the neck, just above that lovely, thick vein. It was symbolic, representing to a vampire, above all, vulnerability. Allowing the human to claim him so freely excited him terribly, and with all the other built up tension it grew to be too much. When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he let his orgasm come, washing through him and over him in waves as he roared incoherently, his body releasing its cool, sticky seed between their bodies with each throb. Giles never looked up, but continued to suck hard on the vein, lips brushing the throat.
When Spike regained himself, he let his hands grab the human’s shoulders and flip him over face-down into the bed, covering him with his own body. Giles struggled slightly, until he realized what was happening and let himself go limp and boneless, turning his head against the pillow so he rest comfortably on his stomach.
“You feel so good, Watcher,” the vampire mumbled against the other’s shoulder as he rested above him. “Taste so bloody good, too.” Spike let his own lips meet the flesh of the other man’s neck, and the demon inside, at least partially appeased by the feasting, allowed him to not shift his features as he lightly nipped the neck with blunted teeth, teasing. “Wish I could do it proper though. If I ever get that blasted chip out-”
“I’ll stake you,” Giles spoke up.
“Yes, right. Well there is that little downside. But we could still have a lovely time before you did.”
There was an amused noise, and Spike let his hands begin to massage the Watcher’s back, easing the muscles, even as he felt the texture of the scars and the unfortunate way a few of them pulled. They didn’t inhibit movement, but in a long battle-he had to be able to feel the unnatural tension of them at times. Spike surprised himself by thinking it was really too bad they hadn’t had this sort of relationship then. Given what he’d seen so far tonight, when the wounds were fresh sharing blood could have ensured Giles’ skin had healed flawless and smooth with no sign of Angelus’ work. Nevertheless, he remembered the request issued earlier in the evening never to discuss the matter, so Spike forced himself to refrain from bringing it up. Giles mumbled his satisfaction as the muscles loosened, and Spike wondered if the man even remembered the torment that was mapped out in his flesh. “No hurry?” he asked, knowing Giles hadn’t yet reached his own release, and not wanting to deprive him of it any longer than was desired.
“None at all,” Giles assured. “Your hands are bloody marvelous.”
Working his way downward, Spike slid his own body down as well to make room for his ministrations. Finally, he found himself forced to change positions due to the limitations of the bed. Spike moved so that he straddled Giles, facing the other direction with his legs on either side of the Watcher’s shoulders and his feet near the man’s head. He started to massage the hard cheeks of the ass, willing the tension out of the muscles to the point where he could spread them easily. “There now. Gonna get you loosened up so we can have some real fun. Make it good for you, like it was for me. After the trick with the knife, you deserve something special, Watcher.”
“Tease.” Giles turned his head to say.
“Don’t worry. You’ll like it. You got some lube?”
“Drawer,” Giles pointed, “and I like everything you’ve done to me tonight.”
“I know, that’s what makes me so confident.” Spike swiveled just enough to pull open the drawer of the nightstand and spot the inevitable tube of lubricant and snatch it out.
“Except you could have watched my back a little on that damn vampire,” he teased, referring back to the scene at the cemetery that seemed to have happened weeks ago instead of mere hours.
Spike ignored him, reading the label. “Cherry? Rupert, I think you’re going to like this a lot.” Quickly, working off the cap, Spike squeezed a decent amount of the oily gel into the split of Giles’ ass, knowing that the human’s heat would melt it better than he could hope to with his hand.
Letting his fingers slip along the crease, he ordered, “Let me hear you groan.”
“Earn it.”
Spike arched an eyebrow and grinned to himself. “Gonna be a cheeky bastard are ya? Oh well. Always up to a good challenge, I am.” His finger found the band of flesh between the anus and the testicles and pressed down.
Giles had to grind into the coverlet to bite back the noise that wanted to spring from his throat as the pressure moved from his perineum to brush the underside of his scrotum. A slight nudge on his inner thighs was all he needed to move his knees wider apart and arc his back, presenting himself. His entire world pinpointed on that hand as it stayed between his legs, rolling his balls in a way that made him ache.
“I’m still not hearing any groaning over there, Watcher. Still not good enough for you? Maybe you don’t like this?” he said as he gave a quick squeeze that stopped just short of being painful and made Giles gasp and pant to deny the vampire his satisfaction.
“No? Well maybe I should try that hot little pucker you’re showing off so nicely?” Lightly, he stroked a finger over the opening, earning him a noise at last. The Watcher’s hips bucked up against his hand seeking penetration, but Spike denied him, realizing the danger of possibly causing pain.
“Spike!” he half-whined, half-gasped in protest.
Laying a hand on his lower back, Spike eased him back down. “’s alright. I just need you to relax,” he said solemnly, “Hold still and relax. I promise, I’ll make it worth your while.” He made small half circles with the palm of his hand until he could sense the human’s breathing slow and felt the tension leave the muscles.
Carefully, he ran the tip of his finger around the slick ring of muscle, pressing along its edges and encouraging it to open to him. “Just gonna play with you a while, okay? You feel the burn, you warn me, alright? Don’t want to push it any further than that.”
Giles nearly voiced his objections, but then the finger pushed in, just a little, just beyond the first knuckle. He could feel it circling the inside of the outer sphincter as he did his best to dilate himself wide, reveling in the feel of the slight stretching, brushing against his entrance. He was tempted to thrust back against it again, taking it in this time before it withdrew, but he waited a split second too long and whimpered at its absence. “Don’t worry, Watcher. Got something better,” he heard the vampire’s voice say, seconds before he felt a new sensation where the finger had been. It was wet and soft…licking, at the edges he realized, when it occurred to him what was going on.
It made him shiver slightly at the idea, but he forced himself not to tense. This was something none of his lovers had offered before, and he’d never asked either. Giles didn’t even want to know where Spike had picked up the talent.
He could feel the cheeks of the vampire’s face come flush against those of this ass, the mouth working busily, as the tongue suddenly became solid and pointed before plunging into his hole. Giles panted through gritted teeth, and fisted the sheets to turn his energy elsewhere, even as his mind remained solidly on that tiny bit of his flesh.
Spike penetrated him, keeping his tongue narrow then letting it grow wide and soft once inside before pulling out again and repeating the process, letting the slightly artificial taste of cherry lube fill his mouth. He found himself more excited by the act than he ever had been before, due to the new and novel sensation of the incredible heat emanating from the core of the human’s living body, searing through him and allowing him to claim part of that heat as his own. As his tongue continued to thrust in and out, he took the time to harden the tip and run it along the inside of the channel, just below the ring of muscle, pushing against the other man’s inner walls. Burying his face deeper, as tightly as he could between the buttocks, Spike thrust as far as his oral anatomy would allow, mentally praising the benefits of not having to take the trouble to breathe.
Giles had thought the best use for a tongue was for sucking cock, swirling around the head, along the slit and down, finding and teasing that tiny muscle where the foreskin attached…but he was quickly re-evaluating his opinion. The feel of that incredible muscle was causing his entire body to throb with a desire for more, and he could feel his anus begin to pulsate around its invader, inviting it to continue its occupations.
It was with regret that Spike finally pulled away, tongue feeling thick and exhausted. The Watcher was sweating and shaking with need in testament to his skill, but he knew that if he kept it up, it’d hurt to talk. To appease the desolate moaning protest, he inserted a finger. The channel was well enough prepared that it took him easily, and without complaint. Unerringly, he found the prostate and pressed hard.
“Lord, Spike! Stop!” Giles shouted as he arched his back and pulled away.
Immediately, the finger was withdrawn, and Spike was about to speak up with concern until Giles explained, “Need a moment to get control…please.” There was a pause until he finally croaked out, “You’ve got to be damn hard after a performance like that. I want to know if the rest of you is half as bloody talented as that wicked tongue of yours.”
Spike understood the request, regretting his response even as it spilled from his lips, the voice a bit thick, “No way. You’re tight as a virgin. What’s it been for you? Fifteen, twenty years?”
“Or so,” Giles admitted still flushed and panting, and not entirely sure what the relevance was.
“Right. So I stick my prick in that tight little hole of yours, and no matter how relaxed you are, I move just right and it’s gonna hurt a bit. You make a noise or tense up, then that stupid chip fires, and suddenly I hurt a whole lot. Believe me when I say that’s not gonna be good for either of us. Sweet as it would be, the shag’s not worth that. So, yeah, much as I’d like to, no way in hell.”
“Bloody fuck!” Giles exclaimed, driving a fist into the bedding. “I knew that sodding chip had to have a downside; just never quite imagined this would be it.”
“Yeah, well, those prats at the Initiative were damn insensitive gits all around,” Spike commented dryly as he found the discarded washcloth Giles had held to his first self-inflicted wound and used it to wipe off his fingers and face. “Now roll over, and I’ll suck you off. I owe you one still, anyway.”
Giles did as he was told, and rolled over to find his mouth tasting artificial cherry on the lips that captured his. He quickly realized he did NOT want to think about how that flavor had managed to coat the mouth of his companion. Then a finger was placed against his lips as the mouth moved down, stopping to suck at his neck. He felt blunt teeth nip the vein, and, for an instant, he could have sworn he felt them lengthen into points before the mouth moved on down the middle of his chest, taking time to suck each nipple in turn, lips doing most of the work to give the tongue a rest. “God, Spike, if you don’t hurry it up, I’m going to come before you ever get there!”
“Patience,” was the only response he got. “I thought you Watcher types learned discipline.”
A hand on his shoulder stopped him, and the vampire looked up in time to see the Watcher twist so that he could grab the knife off the bedside stand one more. “Perhaps I can entice you, then? A little reward for that mouth of yours?”
Giles bit his lip, wincing at the expected pain as it registered sharp and clear in his brain, then licked his own blood off the knife, making Spike shiver as he watched, before once more placing it safely away from the bed. He laid back again and clenched his teeth, trying to ignore the screaming nerves that protested what he’d done.
Spike looked at the two lines of red, one on each inner thigh that pointed upward to the prize in the middle and grinned at what was going to be a very successful attempt to shift his attention downward quickly. “Eeny meeny miny mo, Watcher bleeding nice and slow. If he hollers-”
He was cut off before he ever got any further by the growl and a hand that clamped his arm in a viselike grip. “Damn it! I don’t care how you decide which one to go at first, just get busy!”
Spike was tempted to make a comment about how a consort should have proper respect, but knew that if he did, he’d likely be faced with physical violence. Taking mercy, he let his tongue slide along one cut, then the other, encouraging the chemical glands in his mouth to enhance his saliva and deaden the pain quickly, turning it to the euphoric feeling of a bite. He could tell he was succeeding when the muscles lost their clench. Delighting in it and careful to keep the demon restrained, he alternated from one cut to the other, taking stops in between to lick and suck the scrotum and cock, which, though it had lost some of its impressive hardness with the pain of the cuts, was beginning to return to its fully erect condition once again. The blood was so rich with hormones and pheromones that Spike practically sang to taste it. “Lord yeah, you taste good, Watcher. I can taste how much you want me, spicy, hot, and thick.”
The wounds had been shallow and sealed quickly enough though, and Spike found himself vaguely disappointed when he had to turn his attention solely to the weeping cock. Still…gently, he slid back the foreskin covering his prize and ran his lips along the shaft until he took it like a lollipop, sucking off the salty sweet liquid that practically coated it with desire. “Fuck me in the mouth, Watcher?”
“Fuck you anywhere,” Giles groaned.
The words gave Spike a moment of thought, and he grinned, looking up. Giles noticed the lack of stimulation on his tip and glanced up to meet the other’s gaze. “Change of plans. You in me, alright?”
Giles nodded, excited by the thought, as he sat up and shifted so he was kneeling on the bed. “Yes. Perfect, but I want to see you, Spike. Face to face. Enemies, friends, agitators, lovers, whatever we are, I want to remember tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve had anything worth remembering.”
“Yeah, fuck right,” Spike agreed, his eyes lighting up. Without hesitation, he drew his knees to his chest, spreading his thighs slightly and tilting up his pelvis.
Giles, catlike, crawled up to him on all fours until he was positioned over him, dripping precum. Quickly, he snatched the tube of lubricant and drizzled it into Spike’s crease and up along the balls and cock. He used his hand to spread and warm it, then wiped off the extra on his own genitals.
“Love the way you touch me.”
“Good; after tonight I rather believe I love touching you, so it works well.” Giles slipped a pair of fingers into Spike’s entrance, then placed his tip firm against the connection. “Ready?”
The vampire waggled his rear slightly, bumping the fingers so that he could feel them inside, as he kept their eyes locked. “So bloody ready that if you don’t hurry, I ain’t gonna wait for you.”
Giles smiled and withdrew the fingers, using the hand to guide himself inside.
The position kept him tight, and the vampire hissed when the head pushed in, filling his world with its presence and threatening to split him open as it stretched and pulled.
Noting his partner’s discomfort, Giles paused to stroke a cheek with his thumb and run a hand through that stiffly gelled blond hair. Spike suddenly relaxed around him, and Giles let his weight continue to push him in as far as the position would allow.
“Can feel every centimeter of you,” Spike whispered, opening his eyes again to see the other staring down at him. “Feels good.” He wiggled a bit, letting the cock stretch his walls even further and feeling it deep inside where the burn was already subsiding.
“It does,” Giles agreed. He began to ground himself against the vampire, reacquainting himself with the surprising feel of that tight channel so devoid of living heat. “I like the feel of you around me; I could definitely get used to it.”
“You’d better.” Then he groaned and closed his eyes as Giles hit a pleasure point deep inside. Both men arched their backs further to allow the sensation to be repeated as Giles finally began to thrust.
Insinuating a hand between their bodies was difficult, but the Watcher finally managed the tight squeeze, and wrapped his fingers around the hard erection curled against the vampire’s belly. His thumb rubbed across the tip, along the slit and into the foreskin to caress the rim around the head.
When Spike came, he howled his release in silent screams, sending his sticky moisture to coat them both. Giles marveled at the expression of ecstasy he’d created on that pale visage and let himself become lost in it. He thrust a few more times until he felt his orgasm overtake him as well and roared, allowing himself to collapse into his partner.
Spike recovered first, and used his hand to stroke the Watcher’s back and bring him down. Finally, Giles pushed himself up, and Spike felt the slight burn as the flaccid cock pulled out and he was allowed to relax his legs from their placement against his chest, which had begun to grow uncomfortable.
Massaging his companion’s thighs to ease the cramped muscles, Giles let a smile touch his lips and it came easily. “Thank you, Spike.”
The vampire hushed him. “No, that was for both of us.”
Their mouths met gently a final time, before Giles regretfully broke off. “You can stay up here, if you like. I always had trouble sleeping with the heat of a warm body beside me, but somehow, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
The vampire laughed. “Hardly. It’s okay though. We vamps like the heat. Crave it even.”
They stripped the wet and stained bedspread, using its edges to clean themselves as well as they could before the Watcher turned off the light. They both collapsed on the sheets that had stayed mercifully mostly dry, and curled up, slowly drifting to sleep together, just as the thin light of dawn showed as a filtered glow through the blinds on the small window.
***
Giles awoke, his first thought asking what danger needed to be faced, and his second informing him that it didn’t matter because his Slayer was dead. The familiar hurt that revelation always brought welled up in him, but for some reason it didn’t attempt to overwhelm him, as it usually did. Instead, it mingled with other sensations-itching wounds that were nearly healed, a warm, sated feeling in his belly, and a sense of another presence lying silently in the bed, cool and unbreathing.
He smiled slightly, knowing that if anyone had told him yesterday, just twenty-four hours ago, the position he’d find himself in now, that person probably would have walked off with a black eye and a limp. He turned to examine his companion, so that his face was half buried, and he let his hand come up to rest on the pillow between where their heads lay.
Spike faced him, and looked so contented and peaceful in sleep that the demon inside was utterly impossible to detect. Eventually, an ice blue eye fluttered open and looked at him across the half-light that filtered in through the blinds, hinting at the daylight beyond. “Morning, Rupert.”
“Spike.” Giles acknowledged, noting by the clock that it was actually well into the afternoon.
“Thinking of her, aren’t you?”
He sighed. “Yes; or rather, I was.”
“Hurts,” the vampire winced.
“Yes. But I thought of you, too.”
“Good, yeah?” the voice asked, muffled by the bedding, but edged with vulnerability in the reality of day.
Giles watched him intently for a moment before answering. This was the vampire who’d loved his Slayer and who understood his pain. This was the vampire who had taught him to live again, and driven all thoughts of his life’s unpleasantness from his mind for the better part of the night, even as he, Spike, received the same benefits. “Very good, yes,” he smiled.
He received a grin in return and felt the hand reach out and cover his own on the pillow. Spreading his fingers, he allowed his lover to entwine them with his own before clasping the fingers gently to his palm. The relationship wouldn’t fill the void for either of them, but at least for now it would drive away the pain, and let them find solace in each other’s arms. For now, it fought the emptiness. For now, it was just enough.
END: 06/29/04
Waits nervously….