Title: Corps-a-corps 2/3
Author: Karen Jephson
Rating: Definitely R and NC17.
Disclaimer: Joss may have created Giles for profit, but I've stolen him for
love. Can't afford him, but he's all mine.
Pairing: Giles/You.
Dedication: To the 'deep breath'ers' on GRB for making me go there, and
GylzGirl who likes to push me to stay once I've arrived. And to our
listmoms. They always work hard at thankless jobs, and never get the
appreciation they deserve.
NOTE: There will be another part to this. It's probably more a sequal than a
part 3 or 4. It has yet to be written.
Corps-a-corps: lit. "body-to-body"; physical contact between the two fencers
during a bout.
He lifts one eyebrow at the site before him, and drops the blade of his sword to the floor. Unable to help yourself, you begin to applaud, not only the speed in which he'd been able to defend himself, but also the performance you've been silently watching for some time now. "Rupert, you never fail to impress me."
He raises his eyebrow higher at your comment as you realize how that could be taken and feel a blush rising. "I always aim to please."
You shake your head. "Oh, if only your beloved scoobies could see you now."
It's his turn to shake his head. You'd learnt long ago that this is one subject that's taboo. He adroitly changes the subject, as usual. "Why didn't you tell me you were here?"
You cock your head to one side. "And risk being skewered because I surprised you?" He acknowledges your point. "Besides, I would have missed the show."
He smiles, one of those rare full stretches of the mouth that you yearn to see more often. Even after all these months back in England, he carries such a sadness about him. "But then you could have joined me."
You recognize the challenge and the invitation in his voice. You weigh up which one to accept, and decide both are available. You nod at him and move toward the cabinet where the swords are kept. You allow your arm to brush his as you pass, enjoying the smell of his heated body, imagining how more heated you'll soon make it. "And what will we play for?"
He leans against the wall as he watches you select your weapon. Although there are still traces of the shy Giles who first returned from Sunnydale, more and more a stronger, more confident Rupert has emerged. "You choose."
"The usual?" His grin becomes feral as he salutes your offer and takes his place on the training mats. You both know this will be short. Although no amateur with the blades yourself, there are few who can match Giles. And when the stakes are something you both want, you never fight too hard. Making sure the training tips are in place, you both assume position.
Within two minutes Giles has won point, and your shoes have joined his. Your stocking are next, soon followed by your shirt. Unfortunately, Giles appears to become distracted by the site of you only in your lacy bra and allows you to score point. He bows and opens his arms to allow you to choose your bounty. Your choice is limited, but you wish to stretch the moment out a little longer. Resting your sword against your thigh, you slowly unroll the sleeves of his shirt, before undoing the final few buttons. You brush your hands through the still damp hair on his chest as you slip them under the material of his shirt. Stroking your thumbs along his shoulder blades, you push back, exposing his torso to your greedy eyes. Taking advantage of your momentary loss in concentration, Giles swoops down, taking your mouth in a heated kiss, before drawing your tongue into his mouth. You moan, leaning against the full length of him, as he ravages you thoroughly. You both sigh regretfully as he pulls away. Waiting only until you regain your balance, he steps back and raises his sword. "En Garde."
Giles easily wins the next point, advancing upon you with a deliciously wicked gleam in his eye. He hesitates as he rests his hands against your hips, waiting for your response. You find it ironic that no matter how inventive he is in bed, he still waits for your permission to finish seducing you. Ironic, and one of the most wonderfully romantic characteristics you've ever come across. You gently brush your fingers across his forehead, then stand still as his hands move to the front of your trousers. You hold your breath as he caresses the sensitive area of your stomach, before undoing the button and zip that hold the material up. With a little encouragement from him, your trousers drop to pool at your ankles. You heat up from the appreciative look in his eyes, glad you had given into temptation and bought that matching underwear set in his favourite colour. Smiling, you bend down to collect your clothes and deposit them with the rest. You shiver as you feel he breath against your back.
His arms surround you, enclosing you in his heat and the muskiness that is entirely his. You lean back against him, feeling his erection pushing against you. "We haven't finished our game yet."
He growls in your ear as he presses open kisses against the sensitive flesh behind it. "I cede."