Title: Five Gold Rings 5/5
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, takes place between chapters 17 and 18 of Charades
Summary: On the fifthe day of Christmas...
Author Notes: Many thanks to Mad Poetess and Wesleysgirl for betaing :) This was
written for Kindkit during the Secret Slasha writing challenge in December and
takes place during Charades, the fourth story in the Of Old Mystics series; that
and previous stories in the series can be found at
http://www.myarseisnotpansy.co.uk/piedm/mystics.html.
Christmas Eve
"Ah, five days off. The life of a bureaucracy lackey is rarely so sweet."
Ethan parked the car in their space outside their house, pausing to briefly thank himself for the foresight of enchanting the area months ago to ensure it remained free for them. The rest of the street was clogged solid. It was only mid-afternoon, but Rupert had called on the perks of his office and decided their working day was over.
Which meant, of course, there were several hours before Megan came home. Hours Ethan fully intended to encourage the best use of.
"Barring any impending apocalypses," Rupert agreed, "all things work-related are banished." He added with a melodramatic flourish, "I even left my satchel at the office."
Ethan laughed. "So how long before we have to go back to get that?"
"Are you implying I'm a workaholic?"
Ethan undid his seatbelt. "I'm saying that you need to feel in control, and that with all your work *at* work, you'll start to get antsy."
"I will not," Rupert insisted, opening the car door. "I told you I was taking the holidays off, and I am."
Ethan peered at him suspiciously. "You've got something up your sleeve."
Rupert made a show of checking his sleeves. "Just my arms."
Ethan was very far from convinced, but he got out of the car, and once Rupert had followed suit, locked it. "So Rupert Giles, Big Chief Red Tape, is being put away for the holidays?"
"What?" Rupert asked laughing.
Pretending to sigh, Ethan translated as he opened the front door. "You're not the boss over the next five days."
"Ah. No, I'm just a man celebrating Christmas with friends and family." Giles pressed himself against Ethan's back as they stepped inside, sliding his arms around Ethan's waist. "And counting myself lucky to do so."
Ethan turned in his husband's arms and shut the door. He pushed gently at Rupert until he had him pressed against the wood and glass. "I seem to be having a little trouble believing you," he said with a smile.
"I'll have to work at convincing you then." Rupert leaned in and kissed him.
Ethan allowed the kiss briefly, but then pulled back. "Do you mean that?" he asked, a small but interesting idea forming.
"That I'm lucky to be sharing Christmas with you and the others? Or that I'm going to work at convincing you of that?"
"That you're prepared to show me that you can give up being in charge for a period of time," Ethan answered, choosing his words carefully.
Rupert's eyes narrowed, apparently noticing the word choice. "Do you have something in mind?"
Ethan tipped his head a little and studied his husband. "Trust me?"
"Always," Rupert answered immediately.
"Completely?"
"With everything I am."
Ethan pressed very close and almost whispered in Rupert's ear. "Then give me the control."
Rupert pulled back enough to look into Ethan's eyes intently. Then, apparently having found whatever it was he'd been looking for, he smiled and nodded. "All right."
And now, having taken his gamble, Ethan was obliged to play his hand. He felt strangely unnervous about what he was contemplating. He nodded, smiling, and stroked a fingertip along Rupert's cheekbone, down and over his top lip. Maintaining the direct meeting of gazes, Ethan said quietly, almost soothingly. "Go into the living room, take off your coat, pat the dog and tell it to stay, then go upstairs and strip."
It looked for a second as if Rupert was going to say something, argue perhaps or joke, but all he did was smile and kiss Ethan before moving off into the living room.
Ethan followed, curious and a little excited.
Gwydion was very pleased to see them both. On some days, Rupert took the dog into work with him, but knowing they wouldn't be gone long, he hadn't bothered today. The wolfhound was not so pleased to be told to sit and stay, whining even as he obeyed.
"Good boy," Rupert praised the animal, giving it one last scratch behind the ears. "We'll go to the park later, let you run around there."
"Rupert," Ethan reminded him gently. "Upstairs now."
Rupert petted Gwydion once more, then straightened, shooting Ethan an apologetic look before he started up the stairs.
Again, Ethan followed, his gaze on Rupert's back and arse. Ethan's feeling of excitement was growing. His nipples were still sore, two days after their fun day at Duxford, and quite without meaning to, he found himself running the side of his thumb over one of them, feeling it tighten under his shirt.
He brought his hand down in a hurry when he caught himself; this wasn't to be about him.
Rupert headed straight to their bedroom when he reached the top of the stairs and slowly began to strip, as Ethan had ordered him to do.
And Ethan was already beginning to remember the downside of being in control -- the fact that he had to be just that. Watching his husband strip in a way that, for Rupert, was downright seductive made Ethan want to throw himself on him, paw him, kiss him, and well, beg to be taken.
In an effort to distract himself as much as anything else, Ethan turned aside and went to their warded side drawer, the one curious Slayers would never be able to get into.
"Looking for something in particular?" Rupert asked, pausing in his disrobing.
His hand in the drawer, Ethan glanced over at Rupert pointedly. "Does it matter?" he asked, even as he drew out the velvet clad box Rupert had gifted him with on Sunday.
Rupert's eyes were immediately fastened onto the box. "What are you planning?"
"Does it matter?" Ethan reiterated, raising his eyebrow. While Rupert's gaze was locked to the box, Ethan slipped a folded length of black silk from the drawer and into his pocket.
Rupert opened his mouth, but closed it without saying anything. After a few seconds, he finally replied, "No."
Ethan put the box down on the bed, removing the cuddly fox and badger from between the pillows and putting them on the side. He walked around to Rupert, wrapping his arms around him and drawing him close. "Trust me, yes? Didn't you say that I knew you better than you knew yourself?"
"Yes," Giles replied instantly, then added with a wry smile, "It's just... difficult. To..."
Ethan stroked his hand through Rupert's hair. "Just let me have an hour; that's all I ask."
"I already said 'yes'." Rupert leaned into Ethan's touch with a sigh. "I'll do my best."
"An hour," Ethan said again, and drew back. "Finish getting undressed and lie down on your back." Rupert hesitated for a brief second, but then silently complied with Ethan's orders.
Ethan stared silently at his husband for a while. Rupert looked really quite beautiful. Not the beauty they'd both had when young, of course, but a real one nonetheless. A beauty intrinsically human and that only someone who had really experienced life could have. There wasn't a wrinkle or scar or any other supposed imperfection of his husband's body that Ethan didn't dote upon.
With a gentle sigh, he climbed on the bed on his hands and knees beside Rupert. "Put your hands above your head, dearheart." Rupert did so, his gaze never leaving Ethan's.
Ethan bent down and kissed him, softly at first, then more demandingly. Rupert kissed him back enthusiastically, but never tried to take the lead, and he kept his arms above his head.
Moving to straddle Rupert, Ethan enjoyed the sensation of being fully clothed above his partner's nakedness. He kept on with the kiss, moving his hands up and down Rupert's flanks and upper arms. He felt Rupert's muscles tense beneath him, and it was obvious his husband wanted to wrap his arms around Ethan like he usually would in this situation, but Rupert continued to remain still.
"That's it; you're doing well," Ethan encouraged. He leant to the side and pulled closer the box with the three linked gold rings embossed on the lid. "I'm only going to use one item from here. Just one."
"Do I get to ask which item?" Rupert's tone of voice was conversational, but there was just a hint of deference that Ethan wasn't used to hearing from him.
"There's no need," Ethan told him, slipping the lid off. "You're about to see." He let his fingers move over the content of the box, as if trying to decide what to select. For a few moments, he let them hover over the butt plug...
Rupert shifted restlessly the tiniest bit beneath him.
Chuckling, Ethan moved his hand slightly and pulled out the handcuffs. Strong steel inlayed with black leather, with small golden locks -- like the rest of the set, they were exquisitely made. He didn't miss the way Rupert's muscles relaxed briefly before tensing again -- more in anticipation, Ethan believed, this time.
"You see," Ethan said casually, "By expecting you to just keep your hands above your head, I'm putting you back into a position of control. Because you have to control yourself to keep them there and that will never do." He stroked his hands up Rupert's up-stretched arms, squeezing the tight muscles as he went. The cuffs dangled from his left thumb. "I want to take you to a place of freedom, Rupert, if only for a few minutes. You will be helpless, without control over events or yourself, without responsibility. And in that moment, however brief, you'll be free."
Rupert looked at him with a troubled gaze. "I don't know if I can... let go like that..." he admitted softly.
Ethan snapped one cuff into place around Rupert's wrist and looped the chain around a bar of the bedstead. "You won't have any choice, dearheart. But neither will you be scared, not by that point." He was speaking so confidently, but what if he couldn't do this for Rupert?
Rupert closed his eyes briefly, then opened them again, seeking out Ethan's. "I trust you," he said simply.
Ethan snapped the second cuff together and pulled up onto his haunches to look down at Rupert. "How does that feel?"
He watched as Rupert pulled on the cuffs, testing their strength. "Restrained," Rupert finally answered with a faint smile.
"So you don't have to be."
Rupert didn't respond directly; he merely inclined his head and said, "I am at your mercy."
"Yes, you are," Ethan agreed softly, almost whispering. "Close your eyes." After one long moment of looking at Ethan, Rupert obeyed. He looked almost vulnerable with his eyes shut.
Ethan carefully slid Rupert's glasses from his face and then bent to gently kiss first one and then the other eye. After leaning sideways to put the glasses on the side, Ethan removed the silk from his pocket and flicked it out of the folds.
"Are you feeling aroused, dearheart?" he asked. He knew the answer, both with his magical sense of his husband's body and just because he knew how Rupert looked when he was. He knew that were he to shuffle just a few inches back, he could feel the evidence for himself. But Ethan wanted to hear it.
"Yes." Rupert's tongue darted out to lick at his lips, a nervous gesture. "You always make me feel that way."
Ethan folded the silken length in half longwise, and then again, creating a blindfold. "Lift your head now." Rupert did so, and he seemed to be looking at Ethan, even with his eyes closed.
Holding each end, Ethan let the black silk drop across Rupert's eyes and quickly tied the ends together around the back of Rupert's head. With his fingertips on Rupert's forehead, Ethan pushed him slowly back down to the pillow.
"Don't trust me to keep my eyes closed on my own?"
Ethan smiled to himself and arranged his body to lie closely beside Rupert's. He pressed in to whisper in his ear. "Remember what I said to you about the cuffs, dearheart?"
"Restrained so I don't have to be." Rupert's mouth curled up slightly at the corners. "What's next?"
"This," Ethan replied, before licking up the side of Rupert's neck. "And then this." He kissed just under Rupert's ear.
He heard Rupert's breath catch at that touch. "Is nice so far."
Grinning, Ethan took the earlobe into his mouth and sucked. At the same time, he stroked a light hand up and down Rupert's chest, releasing just the tiniest tingle of magic from his fingertips. Rupert gasped softly, and Ethan could feel his lover's muscles tense in an effort to remain still. "You can stop that anytime," he remarked, drawing a circle around the outside of Rupert's furthest nipple with his finger.
"I'm not doing anything," Rupert protested.
"That's my point. You're stopping yourself doing things." Ethan ran his hand up and down again, increasing the magic charge.
"I'm not..." Rupert broke off in a gasp. "God, what you can do to me..."
"You *are*, dearheart. You're fighting it. You're holding back." He began to nibble softly on Rupert's neck; it was something he could do without too much thought while he concentrated on studying the patterns of Rupert's body, of his arousal, mapping them out.
Rupert arched his head back, giving Ethan better access. "I'm just lying here, enjoying your attention," he insisted, his voice beginning to take on that deeper, huskier tone it always did when he was aroused.
Ethan moved around to the front of Rupert's neck, licking and kissing. His hand, he began to move in soothing circles around Rupert's belly. Not all that soothing of course because of the provocative magic calling on Rupert's own to come out and play.
"Ethan..." Rupert groaned, the sound rumbling up from his chest. There was a soft clink of metal as he briefly pulled on the handcuffs restraining him before once again falling back into stillness.
"Want something?" he asked with a chuckle, not pausing in what he was doing.
"Would it do any good to ask?"
"Might do. Anything is, as they say, possible."
Rupert seemed to be considering that, gasping again as Ethan brushed magic imbued fingers back up over his left nipple. "More."
Ethan slid back into a straddling position over Rupert. He kept his body high however, not yet wanting to give Rupert the sort of stimulation he was almost certainly craving. "More what?" Ethan asked, pulling his sweater and shirt off as he was getting hot. "More where?"
"More of you touching... everywhere," Rupert finally replied after hesitation.
With a smile made all the more evil because Rupert couldn't see it, Ethan shuffled further down his husband's body and gave him what he'd asked for, caressing with hands, mouth and magic everywhere he could reach... apart from one particularly needy area.
In spite of Ethan's encouragement, Rupert continued to try to remain still and silent, but was having less success the longer Ethan teased him. Involuntary moans and movements escaped until Rupert finally broke and growled, "Dammit, Ethan, get on with it!"
Without a word, Ethan slid off Rupert, and indeed, off the bed and stood very quietly.
"No," Rupert protested, handcuffs rattling against the bedpost as he jerked his arms, trying to get up. He lifted his head blindly trying to locate Ethan's presence. "Don't-- don't leave."
"I'm still here," Ethan quickly reassured, knowing he was in danger of triggering more serious anxiety from Rupert if he didn't. "You can sense me; you know where I am." His words seemed to have the calming effect he was looking for, because Rupert stopped fighting the restraints and laid his head back down on the pillows. Rupert took a couple of deep breaths, obviously searching for control of himself again.
Which Ethan allowed, as that hadn't been the kind of out-of-control he was after. He considered lecturing Rupert about what he'd done wrong, but really that wasn't his style. Instead, he climbed back onto Rupert, kissed him on the mouth, then began the same caresses and kisses as before only without the magic.
Rupert was both quieter and more responsive this time, arching into the caresses and gasping softly. The moans and demands and desperation seemed absent; Rupert seemed to be just accepting the attentions Ethan was giving him.
"Good," Ethan murmured. "You're doing so well." He kissed Rupert in reward before adding the magic back into the equation again. Just a little.
"I'm not doing anything," Rupert protested again, softly, distractedly, even as the way he moved under Ethan's hands silently begged for more.
"Yes," Ethan agreed. Rupert was doing so very well; it was time to move things up a notch. He slid down the bed further and began to play his charged hands around Rupert's loins and inner thighs.
Rupert made a noise suspiciously like a whimper.
By lifting his leg and placing it between Rupert's, Ethan encouraged him to spread his legs apart. Then his hands moved down, stroking and teasing all the tender flesh between them, including Rupert's balls, which Ethan bent to kiss.
"God!" Rupert exclaimed, hips bucking upwards in reaction. "Ethan, please..."
A surge of intense arousal went through Ethan himself at Rupert's reaction, and he was a little breathless and husky-voiced when he said, "Tell me what you want, dearheart. Tell me exactly what you want."
Rupert's tongue darted out to lick at his lips as he very visibly struggled for the words. When he finally did speak he began hesitantly, but once started, the words began tumbling over each other faster and faster. "I want... you. Your hands, your mouth, your cock, your magic. On me, in me, anything. Everything. I want... Make me forget anything but you?"
Ethan had raised his head to listen, and for a few moments, all he could do was to stare at Rupert, his mouth slightly open and his cock straining against his trousers. But then he shook himself and bent low again, determined to give his husband... everything. Starting with his mouth.
Rupert was more noisy now, as if having asked for what he wanted had loosened his voice. He moaned and whimpered and uttered words like, "Good" and "Please" and "Love" and "Ethan."
Ethan worked hard with his mouth, slowly building up an increasing barrage of sensation, working instinctively, and with little conscious thought as he knew Rupert's cock probably better than his own. With his pattern sense however, Ethan was watching Rupert's arousal with a fierce attention, allowing his husband's body to increase in excitement and sensation, but stopping, rerouting the patterns, whenever there was the slightest chance of orgasm.
After the third or fourth time Ethan did so, Rupert's voice began to be tinged with desperation and his handcuffs rattled again as he tried to pull his hands free.
Ethan raised his head just long enough to mutter, "Good, you're doing so well," before returning to his work.
This was going swimmingly; Ethan was so sodding happy. This was his most perfect Christmas gift for Rupert.
The badger had just been mirroring Rupert's actions, and the jacket had been as much for Ethan as anything else. The plane ride had been wonderful for Rupert, but Ethan had felt somehow detached from his husband's joy. The magical gadget pen was fun, but too over the top to be truly special. But this, *this*, was Baby Bear's bed. This was perfection... or would be, if he could just take Rupert up one further notch.
Soaking his fingers in near liquid magic, Ethan began to tease at Rupert's entrance.
Rupert let out a wordless shout as his body arched violently in reaction.
Ethan's own arousal level was really quite intense by this point, but he refused to tend to it at all. This was for Rupert. Just for Rupert.
He pulled up and said in a low voice, "Taste freedom, Rupert. Taste what you've taught me so well. Learn how to fly." Then he bent again and took Rupert's entire cock into his mouth, until the short hairs were tickling his lips. As Ethan swallowed, he pushed his two fingers, sparking with magic, deep inside his husband's body.
Rupert's mouth opened in a scream, but no sound came out, stolen away by the intensity of what Ethan was doing to him.
He didn't want to, he really didn't want to, but Ethan shut his eyes. He needed to concentrate so hard for these last few seconds. Keeping absolute control over Rupert's patterns, Ethan finally allowed the level of arousal to travel the tiny remaining distance to orgasm, but instead of just letting Rupert come, Ethan carefully steered a course towards the longest, most intense, most freeing climax Rupert's body could safely maintain.
He felt the way that Rupert's body shook as the pleasure went through him, heard the panting gasps of his breathing, though his voice still remained silent. Despite that, Ethan felt as close to his husband as he ever had in that moment.
He drew it out as long as he dared and then relaxed his control completely, pulling his attention back to the room. Lifting his head and swallowing, he now allowed himself to fully enjoy the view of his naked, bound, blindfolded, and totally spent husband. "Oh Rupert, my one love," he whispered, feeling almost overwhelmed by the sight.
"E-Ethan," Rupert replied, voice hoarse and shaky and far more open than Ethan was used to hearing it.
He surged up the bed, pressed a quick reassuring kiss on Rupert's lips, and then unlocked the cuffs, moving Rupert's hands down to his chest and rubbing at sore looking wrists. "You did so well, dearheart. You did brilliantly."
Rupert moved to pull the blindfold off, but stopped mid-gesture. "May I-?" Yes, he could, but instead Ethan did it for him and then kissed him once again.
After the soft kiss was over, he pulled back and met Rupert's blinking eyes. "Happy Christmas, dearheart."
Fin
(the story will be continued in chapter 18 of Charades)