Title: Desire
Author: K.V. Wylie
DISTRIBUTION: At my site under "Gilesean Stories".
SPOILERS: BtVS 4th season
PAIRING: Giles/other male, slight Willow/Tara.
RATING: NC-17
DISCLAIMER: The characters (except for one) belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy and WB. No copyright infringement is intended. They will be returned to Joss later, a little bent and mangled, but still usable.
SUMMARY: A little slash, a little magick, and a little witness.

Willow knew Giles was up to something. She'd sensed movement earlier today, a darkly-magical impetus quivering and stirring currents through Sunnydale. She and Tara had caught side fallouts from it a couple of times these past few weeks, and it had affected all their spellcasting, minor as their spells had been.

Willow hadn't been able to figure out the source before now. She'd asked Giles twice, and he'd promised to look into it. He hadn't gotten back to her, but she'd thought he simply had nothing to tell her yet.

Then, this afternoon, Tara gave up in the middle of trying to levitate water out of a bathtub (moving water around was tricky at the best of times, though it was a basic for students wishing to progress to more advanced spells). She blew hair off her face and said, "It's a wizard. There's a wizard in town somewhere."

"Or a witch," Willow said, narrowly avoiding getting soaked as a pile of water zoomed back into the tub with a large splash.

Tara shook her head. "We shield our energies. Most witches like their privacy, but wizards don't seem to care much if everyone and their mother knows they're waving their wand around. I think it's a guy thing. And whoever this guy is, he's got quite the range. Unless he's in the room under us, and he isn't because I looked. I mean, um, I looked the other day."

"You mean, he's pretty powerful for being at a distance," Willow said thoughtfully. And all of a sudden it came to her.

Giles.

She'd cast spells with him before, and his magick had a signature, a smoky, heady sensation she could almost taste. But he'd led her to believe he could only invoke the rudimentary magicks and, naively, she'd believed him.

These past few weeks with Tara, she'd come to realize that you didn't get heady off the elementals.

"I can't believe I didn't think of this before," Willow said, as she struggled to put her now-damp clothes on. (They'd been piled beside the tub.) "I do know a wizard, only I didn't really think of him that way. He's more librariany than warlocky."

Tara put on her sweater, buttoning it crookedly. Willow smiled at her and began setting the buttons to rights.

"Is he a student?" Tara asked. "In the dorm here?"

"No," Willow gave her friend a quick, virtuous kiss, then a longer one as she felt the warm curls of Tara's sex touch hers. "That guy Giles you met."

"The English man," Tara smiled shyly. She'd barely been able to put two coherent words together after hearing his wonderful voice speak her name. "Willow, why are we getting dressed?" she asked.

"I'm going to go see Giles," Willow replied.

Tara put her arms around Willow and stroked her soft posterior. "Why are we getting dressed?"

The consequence was that Willow arrived at Giles' place a little later than she'd planned. The first thing she noticed was that he hadn't brought in the mail yet. The second thing was that the cat had gone.

A month ago, a gray tabby took up residence on the garden wall outside Giles' front door. It had watched the Scooby gang's comings and goings with one, bored, half-open eye, not moving unless someone tried to pet it, in which case it would jump away and disappear under the hedge.

Willow looked at the place that the cat should have been, and the letters in the mailbox, and decided the two things together made her very uneasy. Then she noticed that all the curtains were closed.

She knocked at Giles' door. Knocked again. Then, anxiously, she mumbled a chant to unlock the deadbolt and went cautiously into the dim apartment.

"Giles? It's me, Wil-"

That was as far as she got when a dizzy rush of magick whirled around her. "Whoa!" she murmured. The letters dropped to the floor as she braced her hands on the wall for support.

He was up to something, all right.

"You... crumb!" she muttered, for lack of a better word. The magick whipping around her was Giles' all right - she recognized the smoky aspect - and her anxiety was giving way to anger. Why couldn't he shield or focus or *something*? All she'd wanted to do was play with a little water, but he'd ruined it for her.

Not that the afternoon had been a waste, she thought, feeling a few lingering tingles from her groin, stirred up again by the frenzy in the air.

Still...

The description of crumb was replaced by a word more emphatic as she charged up the stairs. She was only halfway up, however, when a sight from the loft above abruptly halted her.

A naked Giles.

It was dusky in the loft, but he had lit some candles, enough for her to tell that he didn't have a stitch on anywhere. He stood at the end of his bed, looking down at it.

'Well,' she thought, after taking in the sight, 'maybe I can forgive him.'

The maybe aspect became entire forgiveness as she took the sight in carefully. He was lovelier without his clothes - his shoulders broad and sweeping, his arms strong enough to encircle her completely, his arse perky and firm... and there was a trail of chest hair that wound in an interesting manner down his abdomen.

Movement from the bed caught her eye. Flattening herself into a shadow at the wall, Willow slowly craned her neck for a better view.

And nearly made a noise that would have given her presence away.

Lying spread out on the bed was another man, a gorgeous man with oceanic-blue eyes.

He was also quite nude.

He looked up at Giles with a most delightful expression. "What shall it be now?" he asked, in an accent more appropriate for a forest elf than a typical Californian.

"Your pick, Caudor," Giles replied, his voice pulsing in a way Willow had never heard before. It sent another shiver through her sex. Giles crept up onto the bed on his hands and knees, giving Willow a clear view of his backside.

'Ook,' she said to herself. 'This is nice.'

"Are you ready for more?" Caudor asked teasingly. He sat up and gave one of Giles' nipples a gentle lick. "Are you sure? I wouldn't want to chafe you."

The magick picked up, so much so that Willow could see little fairy lights leaping around the bed. Apparently, she wasn't the only witness.

"Wait your turn," Caudor said, as one of the lights tugged at Giles' ear lobe.

Giles stroked Caudor's lips with his own. "I have an idea."

"I like your ideas," Caudor whispered, then added hopefully, "Especially that one with the jasmine-scented feathers."

"Something else. Close your eyes," Giles told him.

His lover obliged. Giles gently pushed Caudor back down on the bed, then spread his thighs and knelt between them. In the stairwell, Willow's ears and eyes perked up.

But Giles only knelt there, unmoving. Even the tiny pixies stilled.

'Well, hurry up,' Willow thought at length.

The pause had been for concentration, not effect. A small band of light shimmered into the air over Giles' head. He looked up at it, then gestured down at Caudor. The light bobbed, as if nodding, and swooped down to coil around Caudor's wrists, binding them together over his stomach.

Caudor gleefully opened one eye.

"No you don't," Giles admonished as another strip of lights appeared. He inclined his head towards Caudor and the strip jumped down to cover the latter's eyes.

"Bippity boppity boo," Caudor said as the pixies resumed their twisting capers around the bed.

Giles laughed. "Do I look like a fairy godmother?"

"The first part."

"Can you *see* through that?" Giles waved a hand in front of Caudor's eyes. "All right. If you want, but I stop at turning pumpkins into coaches." He fondled Caudor's genitals, then caressed upwards into a thicket of gray chest hair. "Give me a safety word, dear."

"Mousetrap."

"Not quite as ambiguous as our previous safeties of hurry, now, and coming."

"And kiss," Caudor said.

"And that one." Giles leant down to do so, his mouth brushing over Caudor's with a deliberate slowness. Some tiny brownies who had been sleeping in Giles' hair suddenly swept up, hovered for a few seconds, then dive-bombed into the stairwell.

Willow jumped. She heard diminutive laughter in her ear as the brownies giggled again before flying down the front of her shirt.

And then down the front of her jeans.

Willow drew in a pleasurable breath as the pixies settled somewhere rather nice.

On the bed, Giles' kisses had deepened, and he'd lowered himself down enough so that his cock, beautifully erect, could rub against Caudor's, which was also well-jutted out.

'Double ook,' Willow thought again.

But Giles abruptly rose. Caudor raised blindly at the loss of contact, flailing to find Giles, but the latter had moved down to the foot of the bed.

"My love?" Caudor asked. "Myrlinius?"

"I'm here," Giles replied gently. "Ssh. Settle now."

He placed his fingertips on Caudor's thighs and drew circles upwards. Where his fingers touched, sparks appeared. Caudor trembled and sighed.

Giles continued tracing shapes. When he came to Caudor's abdomen, he pressed his palms against the skin and held them still. Willow blinked as rivulets of liquid ran from under Giles' hands.

Giles licked the streams, his tongue trailing over Caudor's stomach and dipping into the pool that formed in the navel. Caudor's sighs reached a higher pitch.

He touched Caudor's chest, creating more pools of whatever the liquid was, then drank that up, chasing the flow over the nipples, the neck, the jaw, and then, at last, to Caudor's lips which were already open. The two men's mouth fused together, sucking passionately. When they broke for air, Caudor laughed and said, "Raspberry. So sweet."

"And sticky," Giles murmured, raising up to watch the fairy lights as they drank the run-off over the sheets.

"Lick me clean," Caudor said, shifting against the bindings at his wrists.

"Actually, I think I'm finished now," Giles told him, glancing down at Caudor's cock as he said it.

"Myrlinius, touch me."

Giles breathed over the end of Caudor's erection, the glans darkened in colour.

"Please!" Caudor asked, bound and blind, his head straining off the pillow. "Myrlinius, touch me quickly!"

"Never quickly," Giles whispered, sending another warm breath over Caudor's penis. His drew his tongue up the shaft, from balls to top, then did it again and again. Caudor writhed under the contact.

"At least unbind my hands so that I may touch you," Caudor begged.

"I have enough scratches," Giles said. "I think we'll keep things as they are." He licked down over a thigh and around it. He nipped at the skin beside Caudor's dick before returning back to it and drawing it in.

Caudor's hips came off the bed as he drove upwards.

"In a hurry?" Giles mumbled amusedly around his mouthful. He received an inarticulate grunt in reply.

Giles let Caudor push in his mouth for a little while longer, then he lifted up and leaned forward until his cock slid along Caudor's. At the friction, tiny sparks vaulted from them to the bed sheets.

Caudor blindly sought Giles, found one of his nipples, and pulled at it with his teeth. Giles made a noise that rumbled through Willow's chest. Then he began digging his groin into Caudor's, pushing the latter down into the mattress. Their mouths lunged together, drawing at each other in hunger. When they finally broke apart, it left both of them gasping. With effort, Giles stilled his hips.

"You won't complete?" Caudor asked, panting.

"I want to play," Giles told him. The low timbre in his voice aroused Willow more than the sight of the two men (and the jiggling brownies in her underwear) had done so far. She wouldn't have thought Giles capable of this voice, this reverberation meant only for the most secret of times. And she felt a spike of sadness that no one had ever spoken to her in such a voice.

Giles kissed Caudor again, in a quieter way, his body covering the other man's as his full weight descended. Caudor welcomed the heaviness and spread his thighs, allowing Giles to rest wholly on him.

"We were once as this in Llanwrtyd. Do you remember, Myrlinius? In that place by the brook where no one ever walked save us?"

"In the time of the old gods," Giles said softly.

"Before our chapel was taken."

"Yes, but don't think of such things, Caudor. It was long ago." Giles caressed the other man's face with his fingertips.

"No, no, we shouldn't forget. Your eyes were so green, you blended in with the forest. I could never find you, and you'd be looking right at me. And the magick...it was even in your footprints. It lingered on everything you touched."

"Let it go," Giles said, stopping the other man's tongue with his and a kiss so fierce that Caudor moaned under it.

But, again, Giles stopped them and lifted up, breaking the contact.

'If you dared tease me like that, I'd soon fix your crank,' Willow thought to herself.

Giles said something she couldn't hear. The shimmering blindfold fell away as Giles put his hand over Caudor's stomach.

Willow squinted. Giles was doing something. Not a caress.

Then she saw. He was tracing letters on Caudor's skin, letters that glowed red like branding marks.

By the time he finished, the word llhajdi shone on Caudor's skin. The latter glanced down at it, then at Giles with a look of joy.

It took Willow a little longer to figure out the language. When she did, her eyebrows raised. 'Desire,' she said to herself.

"Mousetrap," Caudor whispered. At the word, his hands freed, and he reached up to slide his palms over Giles' ass and to the front where Giles' cock was swollen and savagely erect. Giles sucked in a sharp, whistling breath.

Caudor sat up, the movement bringing him close enough to press his erection to Giles'. He bent his knees around where Giles was crouched and watching with half-closed eyes. Then Caudor began rubbing both cocks, in long strokes that caused their foreskins to slide up and down the tips of their penises.

In the stairwell, Willow was thoroughly delirious. She couldn't have spoken a complete sentence for anyone, and her heart was trying to thump out of her chest.

The pixies in the air sped up, creating a hurricane funnel around the two men. Giles was straining so far forward now that Willow thought he should topple, smack right into Caudor.

And Caudor...how could his legs bend that way? But they were bent, closed around Giles' hips and legs in a tight embrace.

They were kissing again, frantic kisses, tongues pushing hard past parted lips. Giles' hands swept all over Caudor, down between their chests, then around the sides and up the other man's back, leaving multi-coloured flashes behind. And he groaned and cried, throaty whimpers that almost hurt to listen to.

He began thrusting into Caudor's grip, and Willow unconsciously matched his movements. Her jarring rhythm disturbed the pixies in her jeans. They flew out and gave her an annoyed look before joining the whirlwind at the bed.

The legs of the bed skidded on the floor as the two men's thrusts degenerated into hard, short jabs. Giles suddenly arched against Caudor, let out a rough cry and began ejaculating long arcs of seed. Caudor crested a few pulses later, his semen splattering over Giles' chest.

Willow, her hand pressed into the crotch of her jeans, throbbed into her own orgasm. She stifled her own noises in the palm of her other hand.

When the men quieted, so did the fairy dance. They hummed down into a bare, fading docility.

The candles became the only light left, but they were enough for Willow to see that Giles and Caudor were caressing each other with slow, satisfied touches.

Then, suddenly, Caudor turned and looked at her. Willow jumped, and her stomach plummeted down into her shoes as Giles followed his lover's look.

His expression became one of clear anger.

'Oh damn,' Willow thought. She opened her mouth, but what would she say? Judging by the look on Giles' face, an apology from a position fully prostrate on the floor wouldn't be enough.

Then, strangely, Caudor smiled. "It's the little sorceress," he said.

"Your magick is affecting mine, Giles," Willow tried, attempting to find some shred of her earlier wrath. "Can't you keep it private?" she continued, aware of the irony of making such a statement after being caught peeping.

Caudor laughed, and Willow felt her soapbox crash.

"I can't do anything while the two of you are doing this!"

"It seems to me you were doing something in the stairwell," Caudor teased.

Willow reddened. At the sight of it, Giles' expression got more grim.

"Come on, then," Caudor said, patting a spot on the bed beside him.

Willow stared at him.

"It's all right," he told her as he began cleaning himself off in a strange manner. He licked the sides of his hands, and used them to wipe the semen away.

Curious, Willow approached the bed. As she did so, Giles got up from it. His continued silence was unnerving her more than anything he might have said, and she slowed. Caudor finished cleaning and pulled her gently to him.

Before she had a chance to say anything else, he kissed her. He tasted sweet, like cream. Afterwards, she looked at him for a long time before turning and reaching out for Giles.

But he moved right away, to the back wall, and began to dress.

Caudor brushed his fingers over her cheek. "He's not the one for you. He's not the one for me anymore, so we have something in common, little one. He belongs to a vampyre in a huge, dark city a little ways off."

"I don't understand," Willow said.

Caudor kissed the end of her nose and added, "I'm his pussy...cat. Everyone should have a cat." He grinned at her, then got up and jumped off the bed. In that moment, he neatly turned into the gray tabby Willow had seen lately at the door.

The cat bounded down the stairs. Giles followed it without looking at her. Downstairs, she heard the fridge open, a cupboard, something being poured out, then, finally, the front door.

A silence ensued. Willow realized she was alone in the apartment.

As she got off the bed, a few errant brownies, who had not disappeared with the rest, hovered in front of her and giggled.

Willow sighed and swatted them away.

END