Title: Sleight of Hand 8/14
Author: Magpie and Wolfling
Email: magpie@moracle.co.uk and wolfling@sympatico.ca
Show: Buffy
Rating: NC-17
Category: angst, hurt/comfort
Warnings: spoilers up to the end of Chosen
Pairings: Giles/Ethan
Series: Of Old Mystics, sequel to Smoke and Mirrors
Summary: It's behind the scenes where things get complicated.

Author Notes: Many thanks to Mad Poetess and Wesleysgirl for betaing :) This is the third story in the Of Old Mystics series; previous stories in the series can be found http://www.myarseisnotpansy.co.uk/piedm/mystics.html.

They were nearly home. Thank God.

Ethan was emotionally exhausted, and they still had the cleansing to do. He was driving very carefully again, not so much in fear of hurting Rupert, but because he was so tired he didn't really trust his perceptions. There was still something disturbingly vulpine about his vision.

He was worried about Rupert too. His lover had used his bad leg an excessive amount both during that route march across Hampstead Heath to find him, and then during the slightly more relaxed trek back. They had surrounded themselves with magic -- Rupert's to keep them warm, his own to hide his nudity from curious eyes -- and supporting each other, they'd made their way out of the woodland and over the hill to the carpark.

It had been obvious that Ethan had to drive; no amount of willpower applied to facial expressions could hide how much pain Rupert was in. They took Rupert's Rover, and as Ethan drove them across North London, Rupert called home, reassuring the worried people waiting there, but asking them to leave as he and Ethan needed to do magic in private. Xander had apparently volunteered to drive Pamela to pick up her car from where Rupert had parked it, so everything was organised, if not quite resolved.

Ethan himself was simply trying not to think about anything beyond the immediate. He had nearly done something fatally foolish due to the influence of a small amount of the malign magic he used to exist upon. He could only describe what he had just been through as a breakdown, and if he were to think about that, it would probably cause another.

He was very scared.

Other than calling the others and then relaying the details of the call, Rupert had been silent for the whole drive. He had, however, kept a hand on Ethan's arm or leg the entire time, like he was making sure that Ethan was really there.

"Maybe we should sleep before the cleansing?" Ethan suggested, worried about Rupert's fatigue level. "I'll cook you something wholesome, then you can sleep, and we'll do it in the morning."

Rupert shook his head. "I think we'd both sleep better for having it done."

"Rupert, you're..." Ethan stopped, so unsure of himself currently that he couldn't even assert his fears about Rupert's health.

"I'm fine," Rupert said sharply. His tone was enough to stop Ethan even considering saying anything else. He bit his lower lip and concentrated on the road ahead as he turned the car into their home street.

Rupert sighed, pushing his glasses up and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "Sorry," he said, voice much softer. "It's been a long day."

"I'm sorry," Ethan replied immediately. The regret he felt about all of this was crushing him.

"Not your fault." Rupert reached for Ethan's hand and brought it up to drop a kiss in his palm. "And we'll both feel better if we end the day with something positive."

Of course it was his fault. Ethan parked the car, then hurried round to help Rupert out, not trusting his lover not to try and get out on his own otherwise. "Not even a cup of tea?" he asked.

Rupert grimaced as he got out of the car, leaning heavily on Ethan. "We can have tea after."

"Ok," Ethan agreed meekly. He had to let Rupert make all the decisions, at least until Ethan was clean of Chaos, and probably after that too. His own judgement was highly impaired.

When they got inside, Rupert stopped and turned to wrap his arms around Ethan tightly. "I love you." Ethan let himself be held, but only half-heartedly returned the embrace. He didn't feel deserving of it. Rupert sighed and pulled back. "Shall we do this in the living room? Upstairs?"

"Your choice." Ethan walked through the lobby door and went to drop the car keys back on the small table. He had a sudden flashback of dropping his wedding ring there earlier... but it wasn't there any more. He began to frantically turn things over, searching for it. "Rupert..." He couldn't keep the panic from his voice.

Rupert stepped up behind him, his arm reaching around and holding Ethan's ring in his line of sight. "Lose something?" he said softly.

"Oh," Ethan said, more a little moan than a word. He reached hesitantly for the ring, unsure if he deserved to get it back after discarding it so forthrightly. "May I?"

"Turn around." When Ethan obeyed, Rupert took his hand and slowly slid the ring back onto his finger where it belonged.

The sense of relief was so overpowering that Ethan could feel himself tremble. "Yours," he whispered. "Yours, always yours."

He saw something flicker in Rupert's eyes at that. "Mine," Rupert murmured, leaning in and kissing him deeply. When their lips touched, Rupert began pouring his magic into Ethan.

'Take the power,' he encouraged in Ethan's mind. 'Cleanse yourself.'

And Ethan couldn't exactly refuse, as he was being filled with the glorious power of his husband, inundating him like a warm, drenching rain. He staggered against Rupert, not letting their lips part, and began to cleanse himself with the power being forced into him, letting it cauterise the dark Chaos away. 'So pure,' he thought, 'so good. Like the sun.'

'Bright spirit burning the dark away,' Rupert agreed, although Ethan got the feeling they were talking about slightly different things. But it didn't matter; his lover's magic continued to pour through him until it seemed to fill every cell in his body.

Ethan felt like he must be glowing; he was so full of gold. Every part of him was filled and burnt clean; there was nowhere left for Chaos to hide. He didn't need any more power, but Rupert kept sending it, and all Ethan could do was bathe helplessly in the light.

Finally though, Rupert reluctantly broke the kiss, and the level of magic passing between them slowly began to decrease. "Better?" he murmured, running a finger over Ethan's lips.

"Yes?" Ethan shook his head quickly, the action feeling regrettably foxy, and added, "It's all gone."

He felt Rupert's magic touch his again, briefly. "You taste like you again." Rupert smiled. "Sweet and bright."

"I'll take your word for it," he replied wryly, but he was smiling; he couldn't help it. He'd gone from a quite appalling low to pure high in a matter of a few minutes. "Dearheart, is all this standing up strictly good for you?"

"Actually, I'm sure it's not," Rupert said ruefully. "You might want to grab me before I collapse."

Instantly concerned, Ethan slipped his arm around Rupert's waist. "Lean on me. Let's get you to the couch."

"That might be a good idea," Rupert admitted, leaning almost all of his weight on Ethan as they moved slowly across the room. "I may have overdone it just a little."

"A lot," Ethan said, frowning and wondering if it was too late to stop Jonah and Mary leaving for Devon. A quick glance at the clock confirmed that it was, by quite some hours. He established Rupert on the couch, then looked down at him, still frowning. "Tea and painkillers?"

Rupert grimaced at the mention of painkillers, but nodded his head.

"Food?" Ethan offered as he headed for the kitchen.

"I'm not hungry, but I'll keep you company if you want to eat."

He rubbed his stomach thoughtfully. "I think I, um, may have already eaten. Please, don't ask."

"I take it you're not going to want rabbit for a while then?" Rupert asked, and Ethan could hear the affectionate teasing smile in his voice. He groaned in distaste and hurried into the kitchen where he put the kettle on.

As he got the tea things together, he tried to analyse his state of mind now, but other than both considerable relief and equally considerable confusion, he really didn't know how he was feeling. Rupert's magic had cleansed the despair and terror along with the corruption, but not everything was better. There was still Francesca bloody Travers to deal with, for instance.

Better to concentrate on Rupert, who needed him to be strong.

Grabbing the painkillers from where he'd put them away when they'd first got home from the hospital, Ethan took them and two mugs of tea back out to the main room.

Rupert had been leaning against the back of the sofa with his eyes closed, looking bone weary. But he opened his eyes and smiled when he became aware of Ethan's presence. After putting both mugs on the coffee table, Ethan sat down beside him, handing him his pills.

"You should take some and then go to bed, dearheart," he said with a frown.

Rupert shook his head stubbornly. "Not without you."

"Who said I wasn't coming with you? It's been a long day, to say the very least."

"Ah. That's different then." His lover smiled ruefully and put the pills in his mouth, reaching for one of the mugs to wash them down. "I... may be a bit stubborn about keeping you in sight for a while," he admitted quietly, looking down at the mug he held instead of at Ethan.

"Oh God, I'm sorry." Without the Chaos clouding his mind, the awareness of exactly what Ethan had nearly done to Rupert hit him hard. He looked down also, staring at his hands -- at the ring on his left hand. "So sorry."

Rupert reached over and laid his hand on top of Ethan's. "Apology accepted. Just promise me -- next time you have a conversation with shadows, you talk to me about it?"

Ethan looked at his husband, pained and initially defensive. "It... I... You were..." Then he rolled his eyes and said meekly, "Yes, Rupert. I promise."

"Thank you." Rupert tugged gently on Ethan's hand, pulling him to lean against his side, then let out a sigh. "I could sense where you were," he said after a moment. "That's how I found you."

"You've been able to do that for quite some time now," Ethan pointed out, as he turned and snuggled close. "I'm not sure I've ever been more lost than I was today, yet still you found me. It's very... comforting."

"Yes, it is," Rupert agreed. "It means you can't leave me." It was obvious that he'd tried to inject humour into the words, but he hadn't quite managed it.

"Had I been in my right mind I would never--" Ethan stopped. Nothing he could say in his defence seemed worth saying really. He fell back on a heartfelt reiteration of, "I'm sorry."

"I know." Rupert nuzzled against him. "I wouldn't have let you go. Even if I hadn't had the built-in tracking system, I would've gone after you and kept looking until I found you."

"Thank you." It seemed a very small phrase to express the flood of gratitude that filled Ethan at his husband's words. He looked up and touched Rupert's face. "Never ever let me go?"

Rupert turned his head to press a kiss to Ethan's palm. "I promise. I don't think I'm capable of letting you go anymore."

Ethan watched the gold band on the hand being kissed. Love, Magic, Destiny -- Ethan wondered, not for the first time, why Rupert had chosen the third word in particular to have engraved on their rings, this being before Keri's ominous prognostications. But it was true; there was something very destined about their relationship and always had been. Everything that had happened to them, even before they had actually met, seemed to lead directly to this point in time.

Freeing his hand briefly, Ethan leant to pick up his tea, swigging it down and returning the empty mug to the table. Taking Rupert's hand again, he said, "Come on, dearheart. Let's get you -- us-- to bed."

"Bed sounds wonderful," Rupert groaned. "Sleeping in my own bed, with you wrapped around me. At the moment that sounds bloody close to heaven to me."

"I'm in complete agreement."

Ethan stood and helped Rupert up, then took his husband's weight, as best he could, supporting him upstairs. It was a slow and painful process. After installing him in bed, Ethan insisted on going to clean his teeth, as he rather feared he had rabbit-breath, but it wasn't too long until they were both curled up together.

Rupert wrapped his arms around Ethan and sighed in contentment. "This is the homecoming I was picturing."

Snuggling close, Ethan breathed in the proximity of his husband, luxuriating in his presence. He sighed, relaxing for what seemed like the first time in a week. "Oh, my dear, what a day." By non-verbal mutual agreement, they seemed to be avoiding discussion of the large Francesca Travers-shaped elephant in the corner, for tonight at least. That was undoubtedly for the best.

Tentatively, Ethan reached out with his magic senses, feeling into Rupert's body, checking on his condition. "Your leg's still a bit of a mess, dearheart. I think my vulpine adventures may have undone a lot of the good Jonah and Mary did for you. I might ask them for advice. I'm going to be calling Devon anyway, if that's okay with you."

"To talk with Ian?"

Ethan nodded. "I think I need to."

"I think that would be a good idea," Rupert agreed. "You can talk to me about anything, but there are some things that you'd probably be more comfortable talking to him about."

"I just didn't expect Chaos to have so much control over me, not after I controlled *it* for so long. But let's talk about it, and everything else, in the morning. You need to sleep." Ethan stroked his hand slowly over Rupert's chest in soothing motions.

Rupert sighed, and Ethan could feel his husband's body relax even more. "Have I told you how glad I am that you're here?" Rupert asked softly.

"I love you. I never ever again want to find myself thinking that the best thing I can do for you, is leave you. Keep me close, dearheart." Ethan closed his eyes. "Never let me go."

Rupert's arms tightened around him. "I won't. Ever."

Holding onto that promise like a child with a teddybear, Ethan relaxed and let himself fall gently into sleep.

***

As soon as he heard Ethan's footsteps on the stairs, Giles looked up from the book he was doing his best to concentrate on reading. He was still in bed, Ethan having insisted that he remain there, despite his protests that he was fine. Granted, his leg ached, a dull throbbing that hadn't really gone away since the Heath, but that was something he could deal with.

But Ethan had frowned sternly at him, in a way that Giles couldn't resist -- especially after the last week -- which was why he was sitting meekly in bed while Ethan made and brought him up breakfast.

The door to the bedroom was pushed open, and Ethan appeared carrying a loaded tray. He looked over at Giles and nodded in a satisfied fashion. "I'm glad to see you're where I left you."

"Considering you've hidden my cane, I really didn't have the means of going anywhere," Giles replied dryly, setting his book aside.

After settling the tray, which had unfolding legs, over Giles' lap, Ethan set about plumping the pillows behind him. "I wouldn't put it past you to try, and if you do, there'll be trouble."

"What sort of trouble?" Giles asked, making a show of weighing his options. Not that he was really planning on going anywhere, not with Ethan there with him, but it felt so wonderful to be able to tease his lover again.

"I'll pout," Ethan said succinctly.

Giles smiled. "Oh no, anything but that."

"Quite. So do as you're told." Ethan sat down on the edge of the bed beside Rupert, pushing the tray a little closer to him. There was a nice grilled breakfast on a plate and plenty of toast on another. Tea, of course, but also fruit juice and the morning's Independent. There was also an annoying brown glass bottle. "Take your pills," Ethan instructed, apparently prepared to watch until Giles obeyed.

Giles looked at the small bottle of painkillers distastefully; he hated the way the pills slowed his thinking and made everything seem more distant. If he hadn't been so doped up this past week, he might have noticed how much distress Ethan had been in earlier. "I really don't think I need--"

Ethan pouted.

Giles tried again. "The pain isn't that bad, and I don't think--"

Ethan's eyes grew large and expressive, and Giles could swear he could see his lover's bottom lip tremble slightly.

"Oh for--" Knowing when to admit defeat, Giles reached for the bottle. But he shook out only one pill -- half of the recommended dosage. They had things to discuss and plans to formulate, and Giles needed as clear a mind as possible to deal with them. Swallowing it with his tea, he declared, "There. I've drugged myself. Happy?"

Ethan seemed about to protest, but then just smiled. "I will take your grumpiness as proof you require further bed-rest," he said with a smirk. "Now eat up; you need your nutrients."

"Is this how you're going to be whenever I'm under the weather or injured?" Giles asked as he picked up a fork and obediently started eating, bemused and quite taken with this new side of Ethan.

Ethan's eyebrow raised questioningly while, without ever looking down, his fingers darted out to steal a button mushroom from Giles' plate.

"All... take charge and... nurturing," Giles elaborated, allowing the theft of food, taking it as yet another sign that Ethan was back to normal.

"Are you planning to make a habit of injury?" Ethan chewed distractedly, staring now at Giles' breakfast.

"I never plan on getting hurt," Giles said, giving Ethan a knowing glance and offering his lover a tomato.

Ethan didn't take it; he was frowning. "This might sound infantile, but I... I want you to not get hurt again. Ever."

Giles put his fork down and reached for Ethan's hand instead, meeting Ethan's gaze seriously. "I can't promise that I won't get hurt, love. That isn't something anyone can promise."

"No," Ethan said slowly, as if explaining something complex to a child. "This is what you're meant to say -- 'Yes, Ethan, I promise. I'll never get hurt again, never get sick, I'll not age a day, and we can be together forever.' Now, do you want to try again?"

Giles smiled faintly, remembering a time, years ago, when Buffy had made a similar request. He had given the words she'd asked for then and opened his mouth to do the same for Ethan now, but found that they wouldn't come. "That would be a lovely fairy tale," he said instead. "I wish I could."

Ethan rolled his eyes. "You really have never mastered the art of lying, have you? Remind me to send myself if we ever need any espionage done."

"I won't make you a promise I can't keep, even in jest," Giles said, putting words to the thing that kept him from voicing the lies. He looked down at their clasped hands. "I don't want you wondering when I do make a promise if I mean it or not."

"Oh," Ethan raised his free hand, as if to cover his mouth, but stopped halfway. His expression seemed rich with emotion. Then he smiled, albeit a little raggedly. "Oh, hurry up and get better, dearheart. I need to show you quite graphically how much I love you."

Giles felt a surge of love and arousal at that as his imagination quite happily provided examples of how Ethan could demonstrate. "I'm not *that* injured," he replied, with an impish smile and a raised eyebrow.

"Really?" A happy lustful smile dawned on Ethan's face, and *his* eyebrow raised. "Finished brekkie, have we?"

Giles chuckled. "I thought I needed my nutrients."

"Exercise is important too in any good fitness regime," Ethan asserted, slipping a hand under the covers to play over Giles' bare chest and belly.

"If you think I can keep my strength up...." Giles said, his body reacting to his lover's touch.

"Let's see, shall we?" Ethan stood up from the bed, lifting the tray from Giles' lap, putting it on the floor.

While standing, Ethan locked gazes with Giles and slowly took his clothes off. It wasn't exactly a strip tease, but it was more than a simple undressing. Naked, he ran his hands over himself sensually. When his hands reached his cock, he paused to smile seductively at Giles, then squeezed and rubbed himself into hardness while Giles watched.

Giles felt a rush of desire so intense it was almost painful. This was what he wanted -- Ethan naked, teasing, happy... Wanting him.

Ethan stalked around to the other side of the bed and slipped quickly under the covers. Immediately, Giles felt an investigative hand running down his body. He smiled when the hand brushed against his erection. "Seems I can keep something up anyway..."

"I would hope so. It's been nearly a week." Ethan seemed to wince slightly at his own words, but he was soon smiling again as he wrapped his fingers around Giles' cock. Giles felt Ethan squeeze as his lover moved towards him for a kiss.

Giles reached for him in turn, pulling him down and sliding a hand to the nape of his neck to hold him in place as they kissed. The kiss started off gently, exploratory, but quickly became hungry and with an edge of desperation to it, as the thought of how close he'd come to losing Ethan whispered in Giles' mind.

As their kiss became fierce, Ethan moaned, pressing himself into Giles' flank. His hand gripped tighter and began to move, and the sensation brought a rumbling moan up from Giles' chest as he lost himself in kissing Ethan, in Ethan's touch... Ethan's presence.

"Rupert," Ethan muttered breathlessly as their mouths briefly parted. "Need you."

"You have me," Giles murmured, kissing Ethan again. "Need you too," he added, speaking from the desperation that still seemed to be lingering just below the surface. "I need you, Ethan. Don't ever think I don't."

Ethan's eyes seemed to blaze. He made no verbal reply, but the kiss when it began again was fiercer than ever, and Ethan's hand sped up its movements.

Giles closed his eyes, losing himself in the taste and feel of Ethan. "More," he demanded, tightening his arms around Ethan's body, pulling him closer. It wasn't close enough though. It would never be close enough; not until he could pull Ethan clear inside of him, where he knew Ethan couldn't ever leave.

Ethan released Giles' cock and wriggled on top of him, rubbing and writhing, the kiss as hungry as ever. He seemed, however, to be cautious of Giles' bad leg, placing one knee between Giles' open thighs and not moving over any further than that. Giles himself didn't really care about his injuries at that moment; he just cared about Ethan, and the way his lover was moving against him.

"God, I *really* need you," Ethan panted, lifting himself on his elbows and staring down avidly. "Rupert, what's possible here?"

Raising a hand, Giles traced Ethan's mouth. He felt oddly hesitant about what he was about to suggest, but went forward anyway. "We could... You could... top?"

Ethan's expression became immediately closed and his movements stilled. "No. I... can't."

"Why?" Giles asked softly, continuing to run his hands over Ethan's skin.

"Because," Ethan said, wriggling uncomfortably and avoiding Giles' eyes. "That's not the way of things between us."

"It could be. If we wanted it to be." Giles paused, tilting his head in an effort to meet Ethan's gaze. "But you don't want."

"I... I can't. I know balance is important, but... " Ethan was clearly starting to get upset, and he still wouldn't look at Giles.

"Why?" Giles asked again, keeping his voice soft. "It doesn't matter, love, I just want to understand."

Ethan finally met his eyes, but his lover's expression was sour, almost petulant. "You're spoiling the mood," he accused.

"I'm sure we can recapture it. But..." Giles paused, choosing his words carefully. "I want to understand you -- everything about you. The more we understand each other, the less chance that something like this past week will happen again."

Ethan sighed and tried to roll off, but Giles held him tight. He sighed again. "I like you in control."

Giles considered that, letting his fingers slide lightly through Ethan's hair. "You like me in control," he repeated.

Ethan nodded. "It makes me feel like... like everything's alright in the world. That zippedy doo dah feeling, dearheart." He laughed self-deprecatingly.

"Because I'm taking care of you," Giles guessed.

Ethan shook his head. "I'm not a complete child, Rupert," he said crossly, then immediately looked chagrined. Sighing yet again, he screwed his face up, closing his eyes. "If you're in charge; I'm not. I can't... " He laughed suddenly. "I can't bugger things up."

The idea that Ethan was so convinced he would make a mistake that being in control scared him that much was something that disturbed Giles, but it wasn't something that could be fixed with a few words. It was something they'd have to work on long-term, and Giles vowed to himself he'd do that. He hadn't realised Ethan was so unsure of himself, or he would have done something to help before now. But for the time being, he tried his best to lighten the mood. With a faint smile, he said, "So you leave the buggering to me."

"Yes." Ethan smiled back. "You're much better at doing it without the 'up', anyway."

"On the contrary," Giles teased, "without the 'up', there's usually not much buggering."

"You know what I mean," Ethan said, with a crimped-lips smile. "Talking of such things... I could enjoy an energetic ride just about now. I'd be on top," he offered, seeming to want to please Giles. "Just not actually, well, topping."

"That might be a good idea, considering my leg," Giles said, smoothing his hands down Ethan's back.

Ethan grinned almost evilly and quickly straddled Giles. He reached over to the bedside table and opened the drawer, coming back with the lube. "This is all the tack and saddlery we'll need, I believe."

Chuckling, Giles leaned up enough to kiss Ethan. "Well, I'm certainly not going to let you use spurs."

As Giles sank back down to the bed, Ethan followed, laughing. They started to kiss deeply again, Ethan moving above Giles, rubbing their cocks against each other. Giles quickly lost himself in his lover's touch, pushing aside all of his concerns for the moment. It didn't matter; nothing mattered right then except Ethan's body moving against his own.

When they were both breathing heavily once more, Ethan knelt up and opened the lube. He warmed some in his hands and then wrapped them both around Giles' cock, stroking and slicking.

"Oh God," Giles groaned, his hips trying to arch up into the touch, foiled by his bad leg and Ethan's weight on him. "Need you."

Ethan nodded rather urgently, and releasing Giles, moved up the bed a little. "Fingers, dearheart," he demanded with a wolfish grin. Returning the grin with one just as wolfish, Giles held out his hand to Ethan, who slathered two of Giles' fingers with lube. He then seemed to pause to reconsider, before slicking a third.

Smiling even wider in anticipation, Giles tugged lightly on Ethan's shoulder with his free hand. "Come up here where I can reach you."

Obediently, Ethan moved further still up the bed, his legs forced wide apart by the width of Giles' chest. He stared down at Giles. "Please..."

"Love you," Giles said, meeting Ethan's eyes as he reached behind and slid his fingers into Ethan's body.

The dark eyes closed, and Ethan's mouth dropped open. "Ohh. Love you too." Ethan fell forward to lean on the headrest above Giles.

His fingers teasing and stretching, Giles watched Ethan's reactions closely, loving the way everything his lover was feeling showed on his face. "You're beautiful like this," he murmured.

Ethan's eyes opened, and he smiled. "Half-dying with need for you, you mean?"

"Begging to be debauched."

"Oh, yes please!"

Giles chuckled. "Now?" Ethan nodded eagerly, and Giles laughed again. In some ways Ethan was still very much the boy that Giles had met so many years ago. With one more twist of his fingers, Giles pulled them free and urged Ethan back down his body. "I want to be in you. Now."

"God, yes," Ethan said fervently, squirming back down and rising up on his knees above Giles' cock. As Giles used his hand to guide, Ethan sunk very slowly down, taking in Giles inch by careful inch, until he was sitting. Giles' eyes fluttered closed as his lover's body surrounded him. Corny as it sounded to him, it felt like coming home.

Slowly, almost as if drugged, Ethan began to move on Giles, clenching his arse muscles automatically as he rose up and down. "God, dearheart," he started, his tone dry but his voice somewhat shaky. "If this is what destiny feels like, who could refuse it?"

Doing his best to remain perfectly still in an effort to not aggravate his injured leg, Giles opened his eyes to watch Ethan above him. "This is better than destiny," he murmured, reaching out and threading his fingers with his lover's. "It's perfection."

"No argument here," Ethan said with a breathless chuckle, his mouth open in a wide smile as he continued to move.

"Could stay like this forever," Giles said, speaking his thoughts as they occurred to him. "No troubles, no pressures, I don't even need to come; just you and me, together, linked, as close as we can get."

"That's... that's... Oh, I love you so." Ethan was staring at Giles, looking almost upset. "We could get closer still," he offered.

Giles tugged gently on Ethan's hands, urging him to lean down so he could kiss him, adding taste to the other sensations he was basking in. 'Love you,' he said directly into Ethan's mind, not wanting to give up his mouth. 'Can never get close enough. Need you near all the time. Don't ever leave.'

Ethan's thoughts, when they arrived with Giles, were intense and fervid. 'Never. Never wanted to leave. Want to be with you forever. You must stay. You have to stay with me.'

'Always,' Giles replied, moving under Ethan's body. 'Not letting you go now.'

Ethan kissed him hard, crushing their mouths together. 'Love you, love you, love you...' he repeated mantra-like in Giles' mind. But then suddenly, he broke the kiss and rose up again, sitting back on his heels. "Stop moving. You'll hurt yourself."

Giles looked up at his lover in disbelief. "You can't be serious."

Ethan glared fiercely down at him. "Deadly. I do the moving."

"I thought you didn't want to top."

The glare became a pout. "Stop being a git. I'm trying to look after you."

The words warmed him even as the absurdity of having this conversation while buried balls deep within Ethan struck Giles. "I'm trying to shag you if you haven't noticed," he said, twisting his hips upwards a little.

Ethan slapped his flank and sat down hard on him. "Stop it."

Giles raised an eyebrow. "You don't want me to shag you?"

"*I* do the moving," Ethan insisted, tightening his muscles as if to make the point.

Giles caught his breath at the feel. "You're not though," he pointed out. "You're just sitting there."

"Promise you'll stay still," Ethan demanded, still not moving, but squeezing some more.

"Or what?"

His lover's smile was decidedly evil. "Or I get off and go downstairs."

Giles snorted, knowing an empty threat when he heard it. "No, you won't."

Ethan's stern expression twisted into a smile. "Ok, got me there," he laughed. "But you're still not going to move."

The way this was going, Giles thought he might just be able to push a little. "How are you going to stop me?"

Ethan's eyes widened in an earnest expression. "Rupert, if you move when I've asked you not to, I'll be very upset. Do you really want to make me upset?"

Giles did the only thing he could do in such a situation -- he laughed and pulled Ethan back down to kiss him. "I love you."

After kissing him back and wriggling delightfully, Ethan straightened up again. "I love you too. Now promise."

Giles chuckled. "Persistent bugger, aren't you?"

"You should really know that about me by now. And I still hear no promise." Ethan squeezed his arse once more and then gave a little wriggle.

"No, you haven't," Giles agreed, giving Ethan his best Ripperish grin. He closed his hand around Ethan's cock and stroked it lightly.

"You bastard!" Ethan exclaimed indignantly, staring down at his own cock as if it had betrayed him somehow. And maybe it had, as he was in motion again, apparently despite himself, his hips rocking back and forth to thrust into Giles' hand.

"Still want me to stop moving?" Giles asked smugly, being careful to touch Ethan in every way he knew drove his lover crazy.

"Yes. No." Ethan was moving fast now, his gaze fixed. "I don't know. Oh God, I don't want to make the bloody decisions."

"Then don't," Giles suggested, his tone slightly breathless, the sight and feel of the way Ethan was reacting under his touch driving him closer to his own climax. "Just let me love you."

"Yes." Ethan nodded furiously. "Yes. Love me. Please. God, please."

Pulling Ethan back down to him with the softly uttered demand of, "Come here," Giles went back to kissing his lover, all the while continuing to stroke Ethan's cock. Giles was moving now, his feet flat on the bed, and pushing up into Ethan, but his lover was too far gone, it seemed, to scold him. Instead, Ethan moaned and writhed, letting Giles control everything, reacting in a way that in another man would seem extravagant, but in Ethan seemed... perfection.

Everything else was falling away, leaving only Ethan and what they were doing, how they were feeling, as Giles' entire world. He never wanted it to end, even as he moved in such a way to bring both of them to climax all the faster.

'Yours.' Ethan's thoughts were fierce in Giles' mind as they kissed roughly. 'Always, forever yours. Yours by destiny. Yours by free will. Mind and body, heart and soul, yours.'

A wave of possessive love went through Giles at that, overwhelming everything. 'Yes,' he growled back, even as they continued to kiss. 'Mine. Always and forever.'

'Take. Take what's yours,' came the reply, Ethan pushing himself into Giles' hand and then back onto his cock.

'Come for me, love,' Giles bade, wanting to feel it, see it.

He felt Ethan begin to tense, as if the words alone were enough, and with just two, three, more thrusts from them both, Ethan froze, shuddering, ragged breath caught and held against Giles' mouth. Warmth spilled between them, coating Giles' belly and chest, and in Giles' mind was a single, simple word -- 'Love.'

The word, with the accompanying feelings, was all the added stimulation Giles needed. With a joyous cry muffled by Ethan's mouth, he let himself go, shaking as he came hard and long.

The pair of them were still and quiet for a long time before Ethan finally lifted himself off Rupert and slumped to the side. "God," he muttered, almost sub-audibly.

"No, just me," Giles replied, feeling full of whimsy. He reached out to keep contact with his lover.

"Yes," Ethan laughed, turning onto his side and eyeing Giles. "I've always imagined God as being considerably less sticky somehow."

Giles chuckled. "He's probably quite a bit less debauched than I'm feeling at the moment as well."

"I imagine so." Ethan grinned. "That was amazing, dearheart. Staggeringly so. But you were very, *very* naughty."

Giles waved that off. "Some things are more important than my bloody leg."

Apparently lulled into complacency by happy sex chemicals, Ethan didn't complain. He snuggled close, laying his head on Giles' shoulder. "You're in charge from now on," he murmured contentedly.

Full of the same happy sex chemicals, Giles just wrapped an arm around Ethan and didn't argue.

NEXT