TITLE: JUST ENOUGH 2/5
AUTHOR: PhenDog
AUTHOR E-MAIL: PhenDog@gmail.com
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Giles, Spike, or anything else except my beloved computer named "Slate." (Obviously I don't own them, or I'd own a lot more than Slate and you'd have to pay to read this.) The Buffyverse belongs to Joss, ME (yes I know, old joke), and a whole bunch of alphabetical TV networks, `specially now that it's gone into syndication. Please don't sue, I know I don't have permission. Bad me. All my money went to bootleg X-files and Buffy episodes and Slate doesn't want to leave me!
Giles palmed a dagger from a table nearby, and, before Spike even realized what was going on, it was slitting up his shirt, expertly avoiding the pale white skin beneath. Finally, Giles reached out and ripped the collar the rest of the way by hand, effectively opening the black t-shirt wide at the chest.
Angrily, Spike shrugged the ruined garment off and over his arms. "Hey! I liked that shirt, you stupid berk—"
Giles cut him off as he used a hand against the naked chest to push him once more to the wall, the other holding the knife up to the vampire's throat. Killing such a creature with a metal dagger would be difficult, but the pain he could cause was still an effective deterrent to struggle. "Quiet," he breathed, inches from the vampire's face. "Shut the hell up. You want a bloody shag? I can give you that."
He felt his heart pound as he said the words, knowing he was awakening something deep inside. This was a part of himself that had disgusted and terrified him. Ethan and the others had nurtured it, fostered it, until it turned against them, but it wasn't until after Eyghon that he'd managed to lock it away. Now, it was so very near the surface again, and he knew that what he was about to do was rash, foolish, and even rather personally repulsive. Still, he longed for it. It would be a release of the anger and the guilt, a way to take control once more, and, with that, he gave in entirely— committing himself to go as far as he could take it.
Spike watched silently as the Watcher used his free hand to unzip his own faded blue jeans. The telltale bulge was already in evidence beneath the revealed dark green boxers. Then, Giles pressed the knife closer and Spike was forced to look up, meeting the steely gaze.
Giles kicked off his loafers, and bent slightly to push the jeans and boxers below his knees so they could slide to the floor. He continued to keep Spike's gaze straight ahead, though the vampire didn't show any signs of fighting back.
He slipped off the socks as well, first one foot, then the other, before slowly releasing the knife, and throwing it across the room, not particularly caring where it landed as it skittered across the floor. He was safe in the knowledge that the vampire could hardly hurt him.
"You man enough, Rupert?" Spike asked, looking down at the obvious evidence of manhood that swayed, hard and upright, before him, the tip gleaming with the first drops of moisture from beneath the foreskin. Taking his cue, Spike reached out a hand grabbed the other man's taut rear, eliciting a groan in response. He slipped his fingers up, teasing the slit then moving along the spine, as he started to lift the shirt.
Giles caught his hand, and suddenly became dominant again, eyes cold. "No. That, you don't get to see."
Spike stopped, and looked up quizzically, as he leered. "What's the matter? Afraid to show me my Sire's handiwork? You forget I was there when it happened?"
Instead of answering, Giles simply grabbed the hem of the vampire's jeans, jerking them down roughly, as he once more established his authority. Spike yelped as the zipper scraped sensitive flesh, but recovered quickly, following the order to "be quiet and undress" as he kicked off his shoes and worked to help rid himself of the remainder of his clothing.
When Spike was fully naked, the Watcher shot out a hand, and spun him around to face the wall before forcing him against it once more. Spike reached out with his arms and spread his legs to give himself a good grip and avoid slamming into the barrier bodily. "No, I haven't forgotten," Giles whispered in his ear, forcing the erection hard into the vampire's back. "And I'll try to remember it now. Now that you think you're good enough to deserve her."
At the mention of the Slayer once again, the pain of her loss rolled over both of them to the point it was almost blinding. Giles was the first to regain himself, and ran a hand up along Spike's back, guiding his limbs into position. He glanced around looking for something to use to aid the process, and finally settled on retrieving a tube of SOOV cream from the first aide kit he kept for treating various Scoobie injuries. Designed to clean and help heal wounds, it was a bit thick, but past experience with his own hand had taught him it made a decent makeshift lubricant. When one was alone, one still needed the supplies to offer oneself a proper release, after all. He squeezed out a decent amount and rubbed it along the slit that marked the vampire's entrance as he felt Spike shudder in response.
In that moment, it became the one thing, the ONE THING the Watcher could control. Spike understood, and gave in, relaxing himself and spreading his legs further to grant better access. He trembled in anticipation, desiring the exact opposite—to lose himself to another, to let the pain and death and sorrow be pushed away for a moment as someone claimed him and drove away all thoughts but the pure physical nature of the coupling.
The vampire braced against the wall and gasped when a pair of fingers invaded him without pretense. There was no gentleness, but then Spike's other partners had never possessed that particular trait either, and he welcomed the pain, allowing it to burn away thought as Giles continued to speak behind him. "Is this what you want, Spike? To fuck and be fucked?"
Spike forced his sphincter to relax as the fingers remained motionless. When his companion sensed the change, the fingers withdrew slightly only to be joined by a third. Involuntarily, he clamped the muscles again as the fingers forced themselves apart, spreading him even as his body fought against it. Placing his forehead against the wall, he countered by spreading himself further, even as the mewling cries escaped his throat unchecked. Behind him, the voice droned on, "Is this what you wanted to do to Buffy? What I'm doing to you now? You wanted her to feel you inside her? Possessing her? You wanted to slip into her, and let her know that she belonged to you?"
The words began to sink in. It wasn't what Spike had wanted, exactly, but it was a part of it. He'd wanted to love Buffy openly and be loved by her in return, but he had also very much wanted to claim her as his own. Now instead he was being claimed by the one man who had loved her almost as much as he had. The thought made his own erection harder, and its throb began to overwhelm the stimulation he was receiving from behind. Without even thinking, he reached down a hand to help give some relief.
Giles noticed the action and pulled his fingers out roughly, even as his free hand shot out to grab the errant wrist. The lubricant- coated fingers that had been in the vampire seconds before, pushed against the pale shoulder, forcing it to the wall. Violently, he wrenched the arm that had wandered southward, pulling it up and over the vampire's head, pinning it as well and grinding the bones of the wrist together enough to know that he was causing pain. "NO!" he growled roughly in Spike's ear as the vampire shivered at the feel of the hot breath. "I say when you touch yourself, and when I touch you. I say when you get to come. Understood?"
Spike tried to nod, but found that his position prevented him. He so badly wanted to grind himself into the wall, anything…ANYTHING to release some of that tension, but he wasn't a stranger to the game that he was apparently playing now, and knew his need was a torture that would have to be endured. Given his chip, he couldn't fight it much, even if he wanted to. Still, he found he did not. Already the violence and physicality of it was absorbing him, and he knew more than ever that he wanted it to envelop him entirely. Whether the Watcher realized it or not, that was the gift he offered him.
Impatient with the lack of response, Giles wrenched the arm harder, drawing a slight yip of pain. "Say it."
His mouth was dry, but Spike licked his lips and forced out the word. "Yes." He was rewarded as the grip on his wrist released instantly, allowing him to once again brace himself more comfortably against the wall. He had no idea where Giles had learned this game, save that it was very likely from his rebellious days, but, regardless, he apparently knew it well.
The feel of it, the feel of the meaning behind that whisper raced through Giles, and he felt like crowing in triumph as feelings of dominance and power that he'd suppressed for years, long before he'd ever come to Sunnydale, surged to the surface once again. Giles spread his own legs slightly to bring himself to the right height. Then he pressed his chest against the vampire's back, letting Spike feel the roughness of the sweater against his own bare skin, even as he forced his naked erection against the pale thigh. The injured arm from the night's fight was forgotten, and his fingers circled around to find his partner's scrotum while his lips and tongue sought out an earlobe. Upon finding one, he drew it into his mouth and sucked hard, with his hand gently rolling the balls with talented fingers. Then he bit down hard and squeezed, causing a scream as he drew blood between his teeth.
Spike had to force himself not to come then and there, partially because he knew worse punishment would come if he did and partially because he wanted to draw out the game as long as he could.
Giles felt the shock of his attack tear through his partner as Spike tensed and clenched in both pain and denial of release. Swiftly he acted. With both hands he forced the tight buttocks apart, and positioned himself at the entrance before thrusting deep. An arm shot around Spike's waist, pulling him closer and preventing him from bucking toward the wall in escape.
Spike howled at the invasion, tears pricking his eyes as he was caught completely off guard by the penetration. Even though his entrance had been slicked by the lubricant, it fought the intruder, constricting in a misguided attempt to protect itself. Though he knew from what he'd seen that Giles wasn't abnormally large, the cock seemed to fill him in a way that the fingers could not, sending fire through him, flooding him and threatening to drive out all intelligence and sanity. He could feel the head as it slipped past the anus then the inner sphincter, driving further as the shaft entered until he could feel his partner's scrotum firmly against him, all in one terrifying stroke. A new heat filled him, and he felt the warmth of life emanating from Giles, both against his back through the shirt and deep inside him, seeping in.
Briefly, he fought the demon as his features flickered, wanting to change but held back by the barest thread. Unfortunately, the battle caused him to lose control in other areas and he felt his balls began to draw up moments before a hand came forward to touch him for the first time, even if only to painfully pinch off the vein at the base of his cock and allow him to prevent the imminent release.
"Not yet," Giles rasped, gasping for air as he struggled for his own control. Spike was anchored firmly against the wall, but he felt his own legs trembling and knew he couldn't afford to let himself collapse. The feeling of being inside the vampire was one he hadn't quite expected. Though Spike wasn't a virgin, he was tight, and the clench seized him, providing almost unbearable friction. But there wasn't the heat of joining that he'd known in all his previous couplings. The vampire was barely warmer than the room, providing only what heat he managed to absorb and reflect from Giles himself. That realization almost made the thought that he was fucking a vampire sink in, and for a moment, his mind threatened to rebel. But he was this far and he knew he had to continue. Shoving aside all other thoughts, he picked up the litany from where he'd left off as he thrust forward again, forcing himself even deeper. It was his weapon against himself. "Is this what you wanted for her? You wanted her heat? You're dead and cold."
Finding his control and trusting that Spike had his as well, Giles released the other's cock and once again consciously ignored his partner's erection as he placed his own hands against the wall. Slowly, he pulled out slightly then began to thrust forward and upward in time with his words, hard and fast. "Would you have wanted her to feel your chill between her legs, buried in her flesh, stealing her heat, and reminding her…reminding her of the demon?"
Spike whimpered at the exquisite pain, and felt himself grow harder, aching for the touch that refused to come. He shifted and met the upward thrusts with his own, slamming down and forcing the Watcher to hit the spot that transformed the pain into pleasure and made the stars behind his eyes change from red to white and gold. "You thought she'd be wet for you? That she'd let you in? That she could come for you? That she'd…give you…the satisfaction…of feeling her…pulse around you?"
Braced solidly against the wall, but afraid of slipping, Spike let his hand wander out to grab the edge of the bookcase nearby and anchor himself more firmly as he moaned his joy. His inner muscles were now clenching in time with the thrusts, welcoming his partner in, and then complaining as Giles withdrew, throbbing deliciously with each stroke. The shirt rubbed between them, the rapid movement scraping his skin raw, but at the moment, it only furthered the heat for both of them.
"You felt. Impotent. So you. Wanted her. To prove. You weren't. You wanted. The Slayer. To prove. You weren't. But now. Now you're being. Fucked. By her Watcher. Shagged. By me. How. Does it. Feel?" Giles could feel Spike's response to him, and sought to drive deeper, harder, and faster, as his own tension built. The passage was growing warmer from his own reflected heat, and the friction, after being denied for so long by all save his own hand, was soon going to make it all too much. Still, he knew it had to end. Deep down he was screaming at himself that this was wrong. He was behaving in a way he'd given up long ago, contaminating himself with a vampire no less! And he was profaning Buffy's memory by bringing her where she had no right to be. Still, he couldn't seem to stop himself.
"Fuck me," Spike whimpered, feeling his need tingle and burn. "Bugger, Watcher, fuck me!"
Giles heard the words and found himself given a permission he hadn't even realized he needed. The words cut off, and he let himself fall entirely into the moment. Wrapping one sleeve-covered arm around Spike's shoulders so that he could release the wall, he brought his left down around the vampire's hips and let the hand find the waiting cock. It twitched at his touch and Spike hissed and groaned deeply as the Watcher flicked the head. Giles found himself amazed at how hard Spike had become and managed to stay and almost winced in sympathy as his own erection grew harder in response. Timing to alternate with his thrusts, he began to stroke the shaft firmly, letting his palm scrape the head at the apex of each stroke.
Forcing himself to maintain his footing, and gripping the bookcase as if it meant life or death, Spike found himself locked into the rhythm of pushing himself forward into the hand and then back on the flesh buried deep inside. The rhythm was becoming so primal and ingrained, he doubt he could have escaped it if he tried, but either way, he knew he certainly didn't want to. The nails of the hand around his shoulders and across his chest began to sink into his upper arm, certainly bruising and threatening to draw blood. He could already feel the thick liquid dripping from the bite on his ear and down his neck. He almost shouted when the warm wet tongue lapped it up. His balls began to constrict once more and he felt his bloodlust rising.
As his orgasm drew close, Spike felt the demon inside roaring for liberation and gave in, letting it take over as he shifted to game face and continued to meet the solid thrusts downward onto the whitehot source of pleasure taking him from behind.
White knuckles gripped the bookcase, which groaned at the strain, so that he could move his other hand away from the wall. Wrapping his hand around the one still pumping his aching cock, he increased its strokes, slamming down harder and urging both participants to their eager release.
Giles felt the urgency in the action and knew that his own moment was coming soon. The tang of the vampire's blood sang through him, elevating his senses, pushing him closer. He tilted to increase the friction and was rewarded by the pressure which built until he simply couldn't hold it in any longer. It filled him, ripping through his awareness and tearing through his body as he came, releasing his seed deep into the barren vessel of the vampire's body. "Come, damn it, come!" he panted hoarsely, needing to know that he could force such a reaction out of the vampire that claimed to love his Slayer. He continued to thrust, riding it out as it crashed through him with wave after wave, wanting to draw it out as long as he could before he inevitably was left soft and trembling.
Spike felt the hot stream shoot into him and the words giving him permission. That was all it took to bring himself to the brink and over. He screamed his release, and, by instinct, sensed the hot blood that ran so close by. The vampire plunged his fangs downward through the fabric of the shirt covering the arm that held him and into the flesh, rejoicing in the first taste of the blood that hit his tongue mere moments before the pain seared through him. He released and mindlessly pulled back, toppling both of them backwards, and falling heavily on Giles as his momentum took the bookcase with them.
Giles fell hard, but landed well, absorbing the shock and avoiding both having his breath knocked out and hitting the still tender lump that graced his skull. There was, however, an odd sensation as Spike pulled away, dislodging their connection. The vampire curled up on the floor nearby, still raging and in pain.
Dazed and still recovering from the entire experience, Giles looked at his arm in disbelief, then started to feel the pain of the bite. The blood soaked the grey fabric of the sweater, mocking him and dancing in front of his eyes, bringing home the terrifying reality. He'd just fucked a vampire. Worse yet, he'd fucked Spike…and for a short while, he'd enjoyed it. He'd enjoyed the way it allowed him to escape reality and possess something once again. Shaking, he stood up, feeling suddenly cold and achy.
Spike panted heavily on the floor, trying to regain himself, as the Watcher stood up. Giles ignored the ruined t-shirt, but picked up the black jeans and threw them at the huddled figure on the floor. The heavy cloth hit hard and caught Spike's attention enough to make him listen to the words. "Get out. Get dressed, and get out," Giles spat. Then Spike could hear him crossing the floor and shutting a door heavily behind him.