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Here's part thirteen of this Giles/Xander fic by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wesleysgirl and me.
Another NC 17 bit here...
Previous parts are here
Act of Nature by Wesleysgirl and Jane Davitt
Chapter Thirteen
The storm has blown this great big beauty down
The branches all confusion on the ground
Act of Nature by Cheryl Wheeler
Giles stared at the door of the house through rain-spattered glasses and increased his pace just a little now his goal was in reach. He wasn’t the sort to complain about a bit of rain, but this was a drenching, steady downpour, and the wind made sure it got into more places than it would normally have done. Giles could feel it trickling down the back of his neck in icy rivulets and it wasn’t pleasant.
Xander opened the door and slammed it closed as soon as they were both inside, the warm silence of the house welcoming after the rush of chill wind against them. Giles turned to look at Xander and forgot about damply clinging clothes because they were finally home and he could do what he’d been wanting to do for hours. He took off his jacket and hung it up, waiting until Xander had done the same before pulling him close and kissing him, in one eager, impatient movement. He supposed he should have waited until they’d changed into dry clothes, or at least moved a few feet further into the house, but the need to feel Xander’s mouth on his had been with him for too long for that.
The hesitant, gentle kisses they’d shared had been good, but Giles wanted more than that now he was certain of Xander. The memory of Xander standing beside him, close enough that their arms brushed, as they spoke to John, making it clear that he was where he wanted to be, was sharp and bright in his mind as he felt Xander’s lips open under his.
Rainwater dripped onto his hand as he slid it under Xander’s hair to stroke the back of his neck, but all his attention was focused on a kiss that was rapidly becoming far more than that. He couldn’t get close enough to Xander, pushing against him until Xander was backed up against the wall and then sliding his leg between Xander’s, never taking his mouth away, never breaking the kiss to do more than bite down on Xander’s lip or lick at it. Nothing mattered but Xander arching and pressing against him, making frantic, hungry sounds, nothing at all...
He couldn’t remember sliding his hands under Xander’s sweater, only the shiver his cool hands forced from Xander, couldn’t remember whose hands had fumbled and tugged at buttons and zippers so that they could reach each other, only how hot Xander’s cock was against his palm, hard and wet-tipped, shifting in his grip as he squeezed and worked it with an insistence that stopped just short of demanding.
It took all his willpower to pause, but the need for more- more bare skin to touch, to kiss – meant moving somewhere else and as soon as Giles thought about that, he was distracted enough for it to dawn on him that he’d just grabbed Xander and practically thrown him against the wall.
He pulled back, gulping in air, trying to calm down enough to speak. “Sorry – just, God, Xander, I want you ... sorry -”
Xander didn't let him get any further, just used his fingers entwined in Giles' shirt front to pull him in close again. Giles found himself being kissed, perhaps a bit more gently than before, but with no less desire. "Don't tell me you're sorry and that you want me in the same breath -- you might give me a complex." He could tell from Xander's tone that the younger man was amused. "You don't seriously think," Xander murmured, moving his mouth to Giles' throat and nipping at the sensitive skin there, "that I'm not just as desperate, do you? That I haven't been thinking about touching you all day?"
“Still shouldn’t have just – ” Xander bit down harder, as if in warning, and Giles moaned, feeling the small, perfect pain shiver through him. “That’s ...very convincing, Xander.”
"Oh, you have yet to see how convincing I can be," Xander said, sliding his hand down to cup Giles' arse. "So what do you say? You think we should--"
Whatever Xander had meant to say was cut off by a dull roaring sound that seemed to make the house tremble slightly, and ended with a sliding crash and the tinkle of shattering glass.
"What the -- " Before Giles could move, Xander had pushed past him, disappearing further into the house without apparent thought for his safety.
Giles took a deep breath, slammed his hand against the wall as an effective, if painful way of relieving some of the frustration he was feeling, and walked after him quickly, zipping and buttoning as he went.
Xander wasn’t hard to find, nor was the reason for the noise. Its roots weakened by the rain and gales, the tree planted to protect the house from the sea winds had finally torn free of the soft earth and fallen, close enough that the upper branches had smashed through a window in one of the empty rooms. As Giles came through the door, his body already shifting into readiness to fight, assuming the worst because that was what he was used to dealing with, the tree sighed and settled as its own weight bore it down and a branch sticking into the room slipped sideways, catching Xander’s arm.
“Xander!” Giles went to him quickly. “Are you hurt?”
Seeming more interested in assessing the damage to the house than his own body, Xander shrugged off Giles' concern. "I'm fine, but I'm going to need something to put over this frame temporarily." He considered the problem for a moment as the wind blew rain into the room. "There's some plywood out in the shed -- I'm gonna go grab it and some tools. Can you grab the dustpan and brush from the cupboard in the kitchen and try to sweep up some of this glass? Just be careful -- don't cut yourself."
Without waiting for a reply, Xander went back the way they'd come, surely not pausing long enough to put his jacket on before there was the sound of the door opening as he went out into the rain.
Giles stared after him and then turned to look at the damage. It would be easy enough to saw off the branch, but from what he remembered of the tree, hauling it away from the house would require more than a little effort. It wasn’t how he’d planned to spend Christmas Eve and as it was getting dark outside, he had a feeling Xander’s temporary fix was going to have to do for now.
Dustpan and brush. And he had to be careful. Shaking his head, Giles went to the kitchen, doing what any Englishman would and putting on the kettle. Disaster required a cup of tea to make it better. The way he felt right then, it’d take a potful.
He’d just finished sweeping up the glass, with nothing worse than one tiny nick on his finger, when Xander came back, dragging a sheet of plywood over to the corner and vanishing again, this time returning with saw, hammer and nails.
“Can I help you at all?” Giles asked politely. “Perhaps I could hold the nails for you?”
"I think I've got it," Xander said. It wasn't dismissive, but it was clear that he was distracted, so Giles stood around a bit and watched as Xander took care of the branch and tossed it back outside.
The kettle came to a boil about then, and by the time he came back from having taken it off Xander had begun to hammer nails into the window frame, the plywood propped with one knee. He worked with a sense of self-confidence that seemed admirable despite the relative simplicity of the task, seemingly ignorant of the fact that he was dripping wet.
He'd got down to the last two nails before he said anything. "Giles?"
"Yes?"
"I love you." Xander was still looking at the job in front of him. "In the 'in love' kind of way. I mean... I don't think I've ever been good at saying that. And maybe I won't ever be, which I realize doesn't count as an excuse or anything, but... well. I just thought I should tell you."
The mild annoyance that in a household emergency Xander seemed to see him as, well, not useless perhaps, but superfluous, had been fading in the face of Xander’s competence. Giles had seen Xander work before and found it satisfying to watch in the same way that watching Buffy fight was – smooth, effortless and co-ordinated. Now the annoyance left him entirely, along with the ability to speak for a moment, because he hadn’t realised how much he’d needed to hear Xander say that. Xander had shown him he was loved, but Giles knew he hadn’t trusted his interpretation of Xander’s actions. He’d needed it said and that left him feeling as if he owed Xander an apology, but there had been enough of those.
Xander’s fingers, steady and deft, positioned the last nail and he tapped it home in a series of hammer strokes, perfectly graded in strength, driving it deep into the wood.
Giles spoke into the silence. “I don’t how you could say it any better than that, Xander. Thank you. And just so we’re clear about it, I’m in love with you, too - and it’s not all that easy to say, you’re right – but I am, and it feels –” he hesitated, trying to find the words. “It’s making me feel very happy,” he finished. Which was about as eloquent as he was capable of right then, and he hoped it was enough.
Turning, Xander set the hammer down on the nearest tabletop. "Me too." He glanced down at himself. "Of course, right now I'm also feeling wet, and since that's a feeling I could live without..."
Giles shivered, suddenly becoming aware of his own damp clothes. “I think getting changed out of our wet clothes before we sprout mildew might be in order, yes.” He walked over to the door and paused. “Do you think if we tried to finish what we were doing, the roof would fall in? Or should we, uh, take a rain check - and I can’t think why that’s not a British expression; I’m sure we’d have more occasion to use it than you do.”
"Actually, I think if we don't finish what we were doing I might not be able to sit down," Xander said, moving behind Giles and slipping an arm around his waist. The position, with Xander's front pressed against Giles' back, made it clear what Xander was referring to, although it did leave Giles to wonder if Xander had been hard all that time, a thought that made him shiver again with something other than the chill. "I don't suppose there's any way I could convince you into taking a shower with me?"
“I think there are plenty of ways you could,” Giles said, feeling his own arousal return at the thought of Xander against him, naked and wet, smooth skin made smoother by water and soap, “but as I don’t need any convincing, you don’t need to. You do have to let go of me though, or we won’t make it up the stairs.”
He turned within the circle of Xander’s arm and let his mouth brush against Xander’s, ignoring his own advice because he couldn’t wait that long for another kiss.
Xander groaned in what Giles thought was frustration. "I don't want to let go." he said, but then reluctantly did so.
They made their way up the stairs quickly, not pausing more than once or twice to touch and exchange brief kisses, and soon enough they were in Xander's bedroom, and Giles found himself being undressed by eager hands that didn't seem content until they were against his bare skin.
Not that he was any less eager himself. He’d gone to sleep feeling content to do no more than curl against Xander, tiredness taking him quickly into a sound sleep, but since they’d woken up it’d been an endless pattern of arousal thwarted by circumstances and Giles had reached his limit of patience. He matched Xander’s actions, resisting the temptation to snatch more than a kiss or two as he pulled at the damp clothing that was stopping him from seeing and touching Xander.
Yet once they were naked, the need to hurry left Giles. He was certain they weren’t going to be interrupted now, and though the arousal that had driven him to the point of desperation when they got home was still there, making him ache, making him harder than he could remember being for a very long time, it wasn’t ruling him now.
He stepped back, not out of reach, just far enough to be able to look at Xander. It wasn’t something he could imagine getting tired of doing, especially when he could follow the track of his eyes with his hands and fingers, sliding them over broad shoulders and strong arms, dipping his head to kiss where he’d touched...
Xander stood still for him and Giles slid to his knees, kissing his way down a flat stomach, following the trail of fine dark hair with his tongue, lapping at Xander’s cock and going just a little further down, catching the warm, musky scent of him and almost regretting the fact that it would be lost in a few minutes.
He stood then and said in a voice gone husky with need, “Are you ready?”
"Ready for what?" Xander asked. "Not that it matters, since I'm pretty sure the answer is 'yes.'" He ran a somewhat less than warm hand up Giles' arm, then turned away to turn on the water in the shower, providing Giles with a view that he was more than happy to look at. Steam began to fill the room almost immediately, and Xander reached for Giles' hand and drew him under the spray, the two of them both relaxing as the hot water poured over them, driving away the last of the lingering chill that their rainy walk had left behind.
They didn't seem to need to speak at first. Xander had a bar of a glycerine soap in his hands, rubbing up a thin lather before sliding his palms over Giles' chest. He seemed to be concentrating quite determinedly on the task, as though it were both enjoyable and mesmerizing. His fingertips found Giles' nipples unerringly, circling them with a teasing touch before pinching more firmly.
Even slicked with soap, Giles could still feel the slight roughness of Xander’s fingers, calloused from his work. They felt perfect against his skin, scratching at it just enough to make him keenly aware that it was Xander touching him, not his own smoother hands. He’d imagined this sometimes; showering alone in his London flat, with nothing but memories and guesswork to go on, closing his eyes and trying to fool himself that the hands that touched him were Xander’s. He hadn’t come close to the reality. The sound of the water washed away his gasp of pleasure as his cock throbbed as if it, not his nipples was being teased, but Xander glanced up as if he’d heard it, and smiled.
Xander stepped to the side a bit, one arm going around Giles' back to pull him in for a kiss while the other hand slid lower and wrapped around his cock, squeezing expertly and making Giles very glad for the support of Xander's arm.
Their mouths met, hot and slick, tasting like the water that was pouring over them.
The urgency returned with the kiss and Giles reached down, running his thumb along the underside of Xander’s cock with a steady pressure, letting his fingers curl loosely around it until Xander pushed against him eagerly, his tongue darting inside Giles’ mouth. Giles let his grip tighten then, flicking his thumb up to rub across the head, feeling a wetness that he knew was from more than the water. He moved his other hand from Xander’s shoulder to his back, dragging it slowly down his spine, nails digging in slightly, until Xander arched against him and the back of Giles’ hand rubbed against Xander’s stomach.
His other hand moved lower, fingers grazing the cleft of Xander’s backside, palm flat against one cheek, wanting to see how Xander would react before doing anything else.
Xander groaned softly, caught between both of Giles' hands as he was, hips rocking as if he was searching for just the right touch. His own grip on Giles' erection was perfect -- fingers wrapped firmly around the shaft, slow strokes that weren't too gentle and that moved slickly over the tip. Every third or fourth stroke Xander's hand would pause, fingers sliding down to the base of the shaft to pull at his balls with a sweet insistent pressure.
Stroking Xander's cock again, Giles felt it throb in his grip, and Xander groaned into his mouth again. "God, Giles..." Lips that were water-slick traveled over his cheek to the side of his throat, sucking and biting. Xander shuddered again. "I was hoping we'd, you know... be able to do--" A gasp as Giles' hand, seemingly with a mind of its own, squeezed. "More stuff." Xander sounded nearly breathless. "But I'm... oh God..."
Xander wasn’t feeling anything that Giles wasn’t, and hearing him say it like that was as arousing as feeling him move, unconsciously rubbing against Giles in a restless, desperate search for release. “Oh, we will,” he said, gritting out the words and trying to hold onto his control for just a few moments more, because Xander felt so good and what he was doing felt even better – “Promise you, we will –”
"I want... oh God -- " Xander seemed to have been reduced to incomplete sentences. His hips pressed forward against Giles, the curve of his backside suddenly tensing under Giles' palm, his cock throbbing once more in warning of the inevitable before he came over Giles' hand with a series of small wordless cries.
Giles turned his head to watch him, loving the vulnerability of his face, open and lost in sensation – then Xander’s hand tightened and jerked at his cock and that was all it took. He came with an intense rush of pleasure, clutching desperately at Xander, holding him as close as he could. As he felt the first surge of warmth spill from his cock, he dropped his head to bite down on Xander’s shoulder, hearing himself making sounds that blended with the ones Xander was voicing, losing himself in the shared moment until it passed and left him trembling with reaction. He turned his head and captured Xander’s mouth with his, kissing him because he couldn’t speak right then.
He felt Xander's hand release him gently, felt it slide up over his stomach and chest, up the side of his throat until it was cupping his face, all while they continued to kiss slowly. "So much for getting clean," Xander murmured, with humor in his voice. "Now we have to start all over again."
Giles glanced down and grinned a little weakly. “Better hurry,” he managed to say, feeling his heart rate slow down to normal. “Water’s cooling off.”
wesleysgirl and me.Another NC 17 bit here...
Previous parts are here
Act of Nature by Wesleysgirl and Jane Davitt
Chapter Thirteen
The storm has blown this great big beauty down
The branches all confusion on the ground
Act of Nature by Cheryl Wheeler
Giles stared at the door of the house through rain-spattered glasses and increased his pace just a little now his goal was in reach. He wasn’t the sort to complain about a bit of rain, but this was a drenching, steady downpour, and the wind made sure it got into more places than it would normally have done. Giles could feel it trickling down the back of his neck in icy rivulets and it wasn’t pleasant.
Xander opened the door and slammed it closed as soon as they were both inside, the warm silence of the house welcoming after the rush of chill wind against them. Giles turned to look at Xander and forgot about damply clinging clothes because they were finally home and he could do what he’d been wanting to do for hours. He took off his jacket and hung it up, waiting until Xander had done the same before pulling him close and kissing him, in one eager, impatient movement. He supposed he should have waited until they’d changed into dry clothes, or at least moved a few feet further into the house, but the need to feel Xander’s mouth on his had been with him for too long for that.
The hesitant, gentle kisses they’d shared had been good, but Giles wanted more than that now he was certain of Xander. The memory of Xander standing beside him, close enough that their arms brushed, as they spoke to John, making it clear that he was where he wanted to be, was sharp and bright in his mind as he felt Xander’s lips open under his.
Rainwater dripped onto his hand as he slid it under Xander’s hair to stroke the back of his neck, but all his attention was focused on a kiss that was rapidly becoming far more than that. He couldn’t get close enough to Xander, pushing against him until Xander was backed up against the wall and then sliding his leg between Xander’s, never taking his mouth away, never breaking the kiss to do more than bite down on Xander’s lip or lick at it. Nothing mattered but Xander arching and pressing against him, making frantic, hungry sounds, nothing at all...
He couldn’t remember sliding his hands under Xander’s sweater, only the shiver his cool hands forced from Xander, couldn’t remember whose hands had fumbled and tugged at buttons and zippers so that they could reach each other, only how hot Xander’s cock was against his palm, hard and wet-tipped, shifting in his grip as he squeezed and worked it with an insistence that stopped just short of demanding.
It took all his willpower to pause, but the need for more- more bare skin to touch, to kiss – meant moving somewhere else and as soon as Giles thought about that, he was distracted enough for it to dawn on him that he’d just grabbed Xander and practically thrown him against the wall.
He pulled back, gulping in air, trying to calm down enough to speak. “Sorry – just, God, Xander, I want you ... sorry -”
Xander didn't let him get any further, just used his fingers entwined in Giles' shirt front to pull him in close again. Giles found himself being kissed, perhaps a bit more gently than before, but with no less desire. "Don't tell me you're sorry and that you want me in the same breath -- you might give me a complex." He could tell from Xander's tone that the younger man was amused. "You don't seriously think," Xander murmured, moving his mouth to Giles' throat and nipping at the sensitive skin there, "that I'm not just as desperate, do you? That I haven't been thinking about touching you all day?"
“Still shouldn’t have just – ” Xander bit down harder, as if in warning, and Giles moaned, feeling the small, perfect pain shiver through him. “That’s ...very convincing, Xander.”
"Oh, you have yet to see how convincing I can be," Xander said, sliding his hand down to cup Giles' arse. "So what do you say? You think we should--"
Whatever Xander had meant to say was cut off by a dull roaring sound that seemed to make the house tremble slightly, and ended with a sliding crash and the tinkle of shattering glass.
"What the -- " Before Giles could move, Xander had pushed past him, disappearing further into the house without apparent thought for his safety.
Giles took a deep breath, slammed his hand against the wall as an effective, if painful way of relieving some of the frustration he was feeling, and walked after him quickly, zipping and buttoning as he went.
Xander wasn’t hard to find, nor was the reason for the noise. Its roots weakened by the rain and gales, the tree planted to protect the house from the sea winds had finally torn free of the soft earth and fallen, close enough that the upper branches had smashed through a window in one of the empty rooms. As Giles came through the door, his body already shifting into readiness to fight, assuming the worst because that was what he was used to dealing with, the tree sighed and settled as its own weight bore it down and a branch sticking into the room slipped sideways, catching Xander’s arm.
“Xander!” Giles went to him quickly. “Are you hurt?”
Seeming more interested in assessing the damage to the house than his own body, Xander shrugged off Giles' concern. "I'm fine, but I'm going to need something to put over this frame temporarily." He considered the problem for a moment as the wind blew rain into the room. "There's some plywood out in the shed -- I'm gonna go grab it and some tools. Can you grab the dustpan and brush from the cupboard in the kitchen and try to sweep up some of this glass? Just be careful -- don't cut yourself."
Without waiting for a reply, Xander went back the way they'd come, surely not pausing long enough to put his jacket on before there was the sound of the door opening as he went out into the rain.
Giles stared after him and then turned to look at the damage. It would be easy enough to saw off the branch, but from what he remembered of the tree, hauling it away from the house would require more than a little effort. It wasn’t how he’d planned to spend Christmas Eve and as it was getting dark outside, he had a feeling Xander’s temporary fix was going to have to do for now.
Dustpan and brush. And he had to be careful. Shaking his head, Giles went to the kitchen, doing what any Englishman would and putting on the kettle. Disaster required a cup of tea to make it better. The way he felt right then, it’d take a potful.
He’d just finished sweeping up the glass, with nothing worse than one tiny nick on his finger, when Xander came back, dragging a sheet of plywood over to the corner and vanishing again, this time returning with saw, hammer and nails.
“Can I help you at all?” Giles asked politely. “Perhaps I could hold the nails for you?”
"I think I've got it," Xander said. It wasn't dismissive, but it was clear that he was distracted, so Giles stood around a bit and watched as Xander took care of the branch and tossed it back outside.
The kettle came to a boil about then, and by the time he came back from having taken it off Xander had begun to hammer nails into the window frame, the plywood propped with one knee. He worked with a sense of self-confidence that seemed admirable despite the relative simplicity of the task, seemingly ignorant of the fact that he was dripping wet.
He'd got down to the last two nails before he said anything. "Giles?"
"Yes?"
"I love you." Xander was still looking at the job in front of him. "In the 'in love' kind of way. I mean... I don't think I've ever been good at saying that. And maybe I won't ever be, which I realize doesn't count as an excuse or anything, but... well. I just thought I should tell you."
The mild annoyance that in a household emergency Xander seemed to see him as, well, not useless perhaps, but superfluous, had been fading in the face of Xander’s competence. Giles had seen Xander work before and found it satisfying to watch in the same way that watching Buffy fight was – smooth, effortless and co-ordinated. Now the annoyance left him entirely, along with the ability to speak for a moment, because he hadn’t realised how much he’d needed to hear Xander say that. Xander had shown him he was loved, but Giles knew he hadn’t trusted his interpretation of Xander’s actions. He’d needed it said and that left him feeling as if he owed Xander an apology, but there had been enough of those.
Xander’s fingers, steady and deft, positioned the last nail and he tapped it home in a series of hammer strokes, perfectly graded in strength, driving it deep into the wood.
Giles spoke into the silence. “I don’t how you could say it any better than that, Xander. Thank you. And just so we’re clear about it, I’m in love with you, too - and it’s not all that easy to say, you’re right – but I am, and it feels –” he hesitated, trying to find the words. “It’s making me feel very happy,” he finished. Which was about as eloquent as he was capable of right then, and he hoped it was enough.
Turning, Xander set the hammer down on the nearest tabletop. "Me too." He glanced down at himself. "Of course, right now I'm also feeling wet, and since that's a feeling I could live without..."
Giles shivered, suddenly becoming aware of his own damp clothes. “I think getting changed out of our wet clothes before we sprout mildew might be in order, yes.” He walked over to the door and paused. “Do you think if we tried to finish what we were doing, the roof would fall in? Or should we, uh, take a rain check - and I can’t think why that’s not a British expression; I’m sure we’d have more occasion to use it than you do.”
"Actually, I think if we don't finish what we were doing I might not be able to sit down," Xander said, moving behind Giles and slipping an arm around his waist. The position, with Xander's front pressed against Giles' back, made it clear what Xander was referring to, although it did leave Giles to wonder if Xander had been hard all that time, a thought that made him shiver again with something other than the chill. "I don't suppose there's any way I could convince you into taking a shower with me?"
“I think there are plenty of ways you could,” Giles said, feeling his own arousal return at the thought of Xander against him, naked and wet, smooth skin made smoother by water and soap, “but as I don’t need any convincing, you don’t need to. You do have to let go of me though, or we won’t make it up the stairs.”
He turned within the circle of Xander’s arm and let his mouth brush against Xander’s, ignoring his own advice because he couldn’t wait that long for another kiss.
Xander groaned in what Giles thought was frustration. "I don't want to let go." he said, but then reluctantly did so.
They made their way up the stairs quickly, not pausing more than once or twice to touch and exchange brief kisses, and soon enough they were in Xander's bedroom, and Giles found himself being undressed by eager hands that didn't seem content until they were against his bare skin.
Not that he was any less eager himself. He’d gone to sleep feeling content to do no more than curl against Xander, tiredness taking him quickly into a sound sleep, but since they’d woken up it’d been an endless pattern of arousal thwarted by circumstances and Giles had reached his limit of patience. He matched Xander’s actions, resisting the temptation to snatch more than a kiss or two as he pulled at the damp clothing that was stopping him from seeing and touching Xander.
Yet once they were naked, the need to hurry left Giles. He was certain they weren’t going to be interrupted now, and though the arousal that had driven him to the point of desperation when they got home was still there, making him ache, making him harder than he could remember being for a very long time, it wasn’t ruling him now.
He stepped back, not out of reach, just far enough to be able to look at Xander. It wasn’t something he could imagine getting tired of doing, especially when he could follow the track of his eyes with his hands and fingers, sliding them over broad shoulders and strong arms, dipping his head to kiss where he’d touched...
Xander stood still for him and Giles slid to his knees, kissing his way down a flat stomach, following the trail of fine dark hair with his tongue, lapping at Xander’s cock and going just a little further down, catching the warm, musky scent of him and almost regretting the fact that it would be lost in a few minutes.
He stood then and said in a voice gone husky with need, “Are you ready?”
"Ready for what?" Xander asked. "Not that it matters, since I'm pretty sure the answer is 'yes.'" He ran a somewhat less than warm hand up Giles' arm, then turned away to turn on the water in the shower, providing Giles with a view that he was more than happy to look at. Steam began to fill the room almost immediately, and Xander reached for Giles' hand and drew him under the spray, the two of them both relaxing as the hot water poured over them, driving away the last of the lingering chill that their rainy walk had left behind.
They didn't seem to need to speak at first. Xander had a bar of a glycerine soap in his hands, rubbing up a thin lather before sliding his palms over Giles' chest. He seemed to be concentrating quite determinedly on the task, as though it were both enjoyable and mesmerizing. His fingertips found Giles' nipples unerringly, circling them with a teasing touch before pinching more firmly.
Even slicked with soap, Giles could still feel the slight roughness of Xander’s fingers, calloused from his work. They felt perfect against his skin, scratching at it just enough to make him keenly aware that it was Xander touching him, not his own smoother hands. He’d imagined this sometimes; showering alone in his London flat, with nothing but memories and guesswork to go on, closing his eyes and trying to fool himself that the hands that touched him were Xander’s. He hadn’t come close to the reality. The sound of the water washed away his gasp of pleasure as his cock throbbed as if it, not his nipples was being teased, but Xander glanced up as if he’d heard it, and smiled.
Xander stepped to the side a bit, one arm going around Giles' back to pull him in for a kiss while the other hand slid lower and wrapped around his cock, squeezing expertly and making Giles very glad for the support of Xander's arm.
Their mouths met, hot and slick, tasting like the water that was pouring over them.
The urgency returned with the kiss and Giles reached down, running his thumb along the underside of Xander’s cock with a steady pressure, letting his fingers curl loosely around it until Xander pushed against him eagerly, his tongue darting inside Giles’ mouth. Giles let his grip tighten then, flicking his thumb up to rub across the head, feeling a wetness that he knew was from more than the water. He moved his other hand from Xander’s shoulder to his back, dragging it slowly down his spine, nails digging in slightly, until Xander arched against him and the back of Giles’ hand rubbed against Xander’s stomach.
His other hand moved lower, fingers grazing the cleft of Xander’s backside, palm flat against one cheek, wanting to see how Xander would react before doing anything else.
Xander groaned softly, caught between both of Giles' hands as he was, hips rocking as if he was searching for just the right touch. His own grip on Giles' erection was perfect -- fingers wrapped firmly around the shaft, slow strokes that weren't too gentle and that moved slickly over the tip. Every third or fourth stroke Xander's hand would pause, fingers sliding down to the base of the shaft to pull at his balls with a sweet insistent pressure.
Stroking Xander's cock again, Giles felt it throb in his grip, and Xander groaned into his mouth again. "God, Giles..." Lips that were water-slick traveled over his cheek to the side of his throat, sucking and biting. Xander shuddered again. "I was hoping we'd, you know... be able to do--" A gasp as Giles' hand, seemingly with a mind of its own, squeezed. "More stuff." Xander sounded nearly breathless. "But I'm... oh God..."
Xander wasn’t feeling anything that Giles wasn’t, and hearing him say it like that was as arousing as feeling him move, unconsciously rubbing against Giles in a restless, desperate search for release. “Oh, we will,” he said, gritting out the words and trying to hold onto his control for just a few moments more, because Xander felt so good and what he was doing felt even better – “Promise you, we will –”
"I want... oh God -- " Xander seemed to have been reduced to incomplete sentences. His hips pressed forward against Giles, the curve of his backside suddenly tensing under Giles' palm, his cock throbbing once more in warning of the inevitable before he came over Giles' hand with a series of small wordless cries.
Giles turned his head to watch him, loving the vulnerability of his face, open and lost in sensation – then Xander’s hand tightened and jerked at his cock and that was all it took. He came with an intense rush of pleasure, clutching desperately at Xander, holding him as close as he could. As he felt the first surge of warmth spill from his cock, he dropped his head to bite down on Xander’s shoulder, hearing himself making sounds that blended with the ones Xander was voicing, losing himself in the shared moment until it passed and left him trembling with reaction. He turned his head and captured Xander’s mouth with his, kissing him because he couldn’t speak right then.
He felt Xander's hand release him gently, felt it slide up over his stomach and chest, up the side of his throat until it was cupping his face, all while they continued to kiss slowly. "So much for getting clean," Xander murmured, with humor in his voice. "Now we have to start all over again."
Giles glanced down and grinned a little weakly. “Better hurry,” he managed to say, feeling his heart rate slow down to normal. “Water’s cooling off.”