One Year On by Jane Davitt and Wesleysgirl Giles/Xander 2/3

[janedavitt]

Thanks so much for the lovely feedback on part one; here's part two, which edges into NC17.

Previous part here



One Year On

by Jane Davitt and Wesleysgirl

Part Two

"There's a card from Kennedy," Xander said, returning to the small dining area with the morning's mail. He offered the card and envelope to Giles, then sat back down and sipped at his coffee, wanting to prolong breakfast as long as he could, even though he knew that this was their last day of work before the Christmas holidays. It would have made more sense for him to be eager to get in to the office and get it over with, but instead he was taking his time, putting the inevitable off for as long as possible. He took a small bite of the toast that was the only breakfast he'd been able to stomach the thought of and refused to let his brain wander in the direction of work, since that would just tie his stomach up in more knots.

"Kennedy?" Giles said, sounding surprised. "That's very kind of her." He studied the card, which was unexpectedly glittery and festive, and then stood up. "Any more to hang up while I'm here?" he asked, reaching up to hook the card over the string they'd put up above the mantel. It was sagging under the weight of cards from all over the world, but there was still room for some more.

"What?" Xander said, cursing himself for not paying attention to the conversation. "Oh, no, just that one. And some bills, but I left those on the phone table." He was too distracted, he told himself. It was one thing to be not that thrilled about work, but it was another when it started affecting his relationship with Giles. That just wasn't okay. Plastering on a smile, he said, "So... Christmas tree today? Assuming we can both get away, I mean."

Giles didn't turn around, just stood there fiddling with the cards. "Of course. We can try the market at the end of Lewis Street; it's on every day this week, and they're sure to have a stall selling them." He turned, and Xander couldn't help noticing that his smile wasn't quite natural. "And we must have holly – wonderful for keeping out evil if it's hung over doorways, and one can't be too careful – and mistletoe if that isn't too scary a thought." He shook his head. "I could never get used to the tiny sprigs of the stuff they sold for exorbitant amounts of money in the States; here it comes in huge bunches for a pound." He frowned. "At least it used to..."

"Even if it's two pounds, I think we can afford some," Xander said. That reminded him that at least money wasn't much of a concern these days – that was one good thing about this job. There had to be others, even if he couldn't think of any just then.

He managed to make small talk until they got to the office and went their separate ways. He had plenty to keep him busy, and for once none of it was do-or-die kind of stuff, so it didn't even have to be all that stressful. It still kind of was, though, and Xander didn't know how to make it not be. A couple of times during the course of the day, he and Giles crossed paths, but they were both preoccupied with work and didn't have more than ten seconds to say 'hi.'

Late afternoon, Xander was sitting at his desk, his head cushioned on his hand so that the heel was pressed to the ache just over his missing eye as he tried to concentrate on some requisition forms. Everything at the Watcher's Council had to be filled out in triplicate, no mistakes, and he had a tendency to miss some of the finer details unless he gave the forms his complete attention.

"Mr Harris?"

He glanced up and groaned as the one person in the place who was resisting the urge to party, Mrs Westingham, bustled in bearing, not a partridge in a pear tree, but a stack of files.

"You'll need to do these before you leave, I'm afraid," she said in a firm voice.

"He most certainly does," said Giles, appearing in the doorway wearing his coat and holding Xander's jacket. "Sadly, he won't be able to." Xander reached up his hand automatically and caught his jacket as Giles threw it over.

"Mister Giles," she said, drawing out his name and giving him what Xander had to admit was a pretty scary glare. "Work has to be done, no matter what the season, as your predecessor was only too aware."

Giles took the files from her and flipped through them as Xander watched in delighted horror. "This can wait until next week... and this... and this. This is urgent and – " He reached out for a pen and scribbled, 'Approved by R.G.' across the last sheet, " – now it's done." He thrust the remainder of the files back into Mrs Westingham's hands and gave her a dangerous smile. "And those shouldn't be anything Mr Harris needs to be troubled with, as any half-competent clerical staff can clear them. Let me see, that would be the staff you're in charge of, am I correct?"

Mrs Westingham blinked in what looked like disgruntled outrage. "I am. And as such, it's my job to make sure that these things are done in a timely manner."

"Then I'd suggest that you find someone else to do them," Giles said, walking determinedly over to Xander and taking him by the arm. "Mr Harris and I have a previous engagement."

Astonished, Mrs Westingham could only stammer as Xander found himself being walked through the doorway and out into the hall.

"I can't believe you just did that," Xander said, surprised and thrilled and, he was sure, doing a terrible job of hiding it.

"Harridan," Giles muttered. He gave Xander an exasperated look. "Why didn't you tell me she was loading you down with all that junk?" He shook his head. "Never mind, I know why; you're so determined not to ask for favors, not to take advantage of our personal relationship, that you'd have let her convince you it was part of your job to empty the wastepaper bins."

The corridor was empty, but Xander didn't think Giles even checked before yanking him close and giving him an irritable, bruisingly hard kiss.

"You owe me," Giles said with his lips hovering an inch away from Xander's, a mischievous grin replacing his stern look. "I suggest you start thinking of suitable ways to repay me for rescuing you."

Still kind of stunned, Xander nodded and closed his fingers around a fold of Giles' coat sleeve. "This is... are you sure we can do this?"

"Leave? Yes. If anything really urgent occurs we can be back here in under twenty minutes." Giles smiled a little grimly. "And if that wasn't what you meant, I'll point out that kissing seems to have replaced a nod, smile or handshake around here. I don't think anyone's likely to raise an eyebrow about us when Angela's demonstrating mouth-to-mouth on everyone who wanders past the reception desk."

In reply, Xander leaned forward and kissed Giles, just as quickly and fiercely as Giles had kissed him half a minute before. "Let's get out of here," he said, feeling light-hearted for the first time in days.

He started towards the stairs, and Giles cleared his throat. "You really don't want to go that way. Trust me."

"Emergency exit?"

"Excellent idea."

It didn't take them long to get to the market. Giles drove, which was, as always, just fine with Xander, even if there were times when it kind of made him feel like he was a kid and couldn't be trusted behind the wheel. Which wasn't Giles' fault – Giles didn't treat him like that. It was just that Xander still felt out of place in London, like he didn't belong, and like maybe he never would. Like maybe he'd never fit in here, and it would always feel like someone else's home. Not his.

Xander gave himself a brisk mental shake as Giles deftly maneuvered the car into what looked like too small a parking space a few blocks from the market. "Hey, it's not raining," he noticed for the first time, getting out onto the street side carefully and pulling his hat down over his ears, because, even if there wasn't any rain, it was darned cold.

"Good," Giles said, locking the car up and pocketing the keys. "You've no idea how messy it can get with a wet tree." He laughed. "Once, when I was a child, we cut our own from the wood behind us; simpler times and no one minded. It was covered in snow and looked very festive. We thought we'd shaken most of it off, but as soon as it was placed in its bucket beside the fire, every particle of snow melted and we had a brief indoor monsoon."

Xander laughed, too, recapturing some of the care-free mood he'd had in the hallway at the office. "I was picturing kind of a small tree. More spring shower than monsoon."

Giles began to walk, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I think we'll have to go with whatever's left – and whatever we can fit in the boot of the car."

It took them a while to navigate the crowds of shoppers, who all seemed to have tense, harried faces and were clutching bulging bags, and get to the market. The stalls were starting to close up, and it was getting dark. As luck would have it, the stall with the trees was at the far end, and they walked as quickly as possible along the muddy street, littered, around the produce stalls, with squashed and slimy fruit and vegetables.

As soon as they got near the trees, one of them caught Xander's eye. There was something Charlie-Brown-Christmas-y about it – it was a little bit lopsided, and not quite as full as it could have been. In short, it was perfect. "This one," he said.

"Really?" Giles sounded a little surprised. "That was very fast. Going by the length of time it takes you to choose a DVD to rent, I'd expected us to be here for hours." He glanced at the rather pitiful choice. "Well, fifteen minutes, perhaps," he amended.

Xander reached in to the trunk and gave the tree an experimental heft – it was heavier than it looked but still light enough that he'd be able to carry it by himself. The smell of the sap, faint but acrid, clung to the tree. It made him feel right again, in a way he didn't think he had for some time. "Definitely this one," he said. "It's perfect. Don't you think?"

"It's got a certain charm to it," Giles allowed. "Fine; I'll get the holly and the mistletoe while you pay for it, shall I?" He moved a few steps away, studying the bunches of greenery hanging from the roof of the stall, dotted with red or white berries.

Xander stopped, watching Giles now that the other man's attention was on something else. He felt two totally opposite things – a sweeping, almost scary rush of love, and an equally terrifying sense of being trapped, of crushing himself into a mold in which he didn't fit...

And then the scent of the tree washed over him again, and everything was okay. For that moment, at least.

By the time he'd finished paying for the tree, Giles had a wrapped bunch of green viney things and was just pocketing his change. He was still, Xander noted, standing underneath the roof.

"You do realize where you're standing, don't you?" Xander asked, stepping closer and speaking in a low voice.

Giles gave a startled glance upwards, as if he was expecting something to fall on him. "What? Oh..."

Giles flushed slightly, one hand coming up and then falling back in what Xander knew was an aborted attempt to polish the glasses he'd stopped wearing six months ago. He knew why Giles was acting so spooked. They weren't big on the romantic gestures in public, for several reasons, but right now none of them seemed to matter much to Xander. He leaned the tree up against one of the support poles of the stall, half-screening Giles, and waited.

"It's traditional..." Giles said thoughtfully, the tension leaving him as Xander watched. "I'm a great believer in tradition."

He took Xander's hand and tugged him closer, linking their fingers as their lips met in a brief, warm kiss.

"See, now this is the kind of tradition I can get behind," Xander murmured, sliding his hand inside Giles' coat in a brief caress. "Okay, we'd better go before we tempt fate any more."

He picked the tree up again, brushing off Giles' offer to help carry it, and they started back through the market. It was late enough that the market was emptying out, and, by the time they got back to the car and Giles unlocked the trunk, it was pretty dark.

"It's not going to fit, and I don't want to break the branches," Giles said, helping Xander to push it inside. The tree seemed to be protesting its imprisonment, with branches springing up every time they tried to close the trunk. "We could do with some string to tie the lid down."

"It's okay, I've got it," Xander said, shoving the tree far enough out of the way to grab the ball of twine that he'd seen earlier. Once he had it, it didn't take long to secure the trunk with a couple of quick knots, the tree's branches tucked carefully out of the way.

He stood up, brushing off his hands, which were still kind of sticky with pine sap, to find Giles looking at him with a funny expression on his face.

"You know, when you do something like that, you look so – " Giles broke off and gave a rueful head-shake. "So competent. It would have taken me twice as long, and I'm fairly certain I'd have turned the air blue and ended up scratched if not actually bleeding. I don't consider myself all fingers-and-thumbs by any means, but you – well." He stared off into the distance and then gave himself a little shake. "I do pay you the oddest compliments, don't I? I'm sorry."

Xander felt competent. Underneath that feeling was a vague sense of unease, but he was nothing if not good at repressing, so he grinned at Giles. "Hey, better an odd compliment than none at all, right?"

"I'm sure I can come up with better ones," Giles said, giving him a quick smile. "It's really not difficult." He opened the door and slid behind the wheel, waiting for Xander to get in before starting the engine. "I could start with the obvious and tell you that after a year I've still only got to be near you to want you. I can get very detailed about those sorts of compliments. Or I could focus less on your charms and more on your strength of character and really make you feel uncomfortable."

"I vote for an evening without discomfort," Xander said, remembering to put on his seat belt as Giles pulled out onto the street. "If we're voting."

"Is that a polite way of telling me to save the compliments? Because I'll try, but I'm not sure I'll be entirely successful." Giles sounded like he was having difficulty keeping his voice light, and he came close to crashing into the car in front of them – which kept braking for no apparent reason – when he turned his head and gave Xander a perturbed look.

"Watch the road," Xander said, keeping his voice gentle because he wasn't sure what Giles' problem was. When Giles had turned his attention back toward his driving, Xander said, "Okay, what was that look about?"

"What look?" Giles said automatically before sighing. "I shouldn't try and hide anything from you, should I? It's just – is there anything the matter? You seem a little – have I done something wrong?"

"What?" Xander's frown deepened. "No. What could you have done wrong?" It seemed easier, instinctively, to concentrate on that part of what Giles had said.

"You really want to know?" Giles asked. He sounded – bitter? Xander wasn't sure. Definitely not happy. "I suppose you're entitled. Last night – well, let's just say I came very close to doing something I would've regretted, prompted by jealousy and frustrated sentimentality." His hands tightened on the wheel as he turned off the main road and into the street where they lived. "To say I'm feeling ashamed of myself is an understatement, and perhaps it's led me to wonder if you somehow know and are... disappointed? Even angry?"

Genuinely confused, Xander said, "Wait. What? What did you almost do? Why would I be disappointed?" He turned in his seat so that he could face Giles.

Giles didn't answer until he'd parked the car and turned off the lights and the engine. The interior of the car was dark; the nearest street light was flickering with a pale orange glow that meant it was unlikely to last the night. The shadows that cloaked them seemed to match Giles' mood.

"As I forgot your birthday until the post arrived with cards from Buffy and Dawn, I suppose it's a little strange that I remembered that last night was the anniversary of the first time we kissed, slept together. But I did. And it's very selfish of me to have regretted your tiredness not out of concern for you – though I was, of course – but because I was hoping – never mind."

Giles had turned to face Xander when he started speaking, resting his elbow on the back of his seat so that his hand was close to Xander's shoulder. He reached out and Xander reacted instinctively, lifting his hand to cover Giles' as it gripped his shoulder.

"I forgot," Xander said honestly, feeling guilty because he should have remembered. "I was just... I guess I've been..."

There, he ran out of words. What was he supposed to say? That he wasn't sure he was cut out to be a Londoner, that there were days when sitting behind that desk felt like a prison, days when the piles of paperwork made him feel like clawing his other eye out? None of those things would change the fact that he'd stay, for Giles, no matter how bad it got.

"Preoccupied?" Giles asked. "I've noticed. And been too much of a coward to ask why because I thought I knew. Knew that you were feeling – dissatisfied – with some things. With me. And that brings me rather neatly to what I'm feeling guilty about. Xander, when I got home last night it was so hot I opened a window. Which led to everything on your desk being blown off it. When I picked the papers up – Xander, I didn't open it, I do ask that you believe me. I would never – but I – God, this is so pathetic! I'm so..."

Giles stopped speaking and pulled his hand free, turning away to fumble with the door as if he were desperate to get as far away as possible. "I'm sorry. Look, let's just get this blasted tree upstairs shall we?"

Xander let him get out, because having this kind of conversation in the confines of the car didn't seem like a good idea. He quickly opened his own door, crushed himself against the car when one driving past was a little too close for comfort, then slammed the door and strode around to the sidewalk, getting in Giles' way so that the other man had no choice but to stop. "Okay, maybe I'm just being slow, here, but what the hell are you talking about?"

"You. Getting cards from John. Getting tired of me. Getting – going away." Giles stared at him, a deep weariness in his eyes. "It's nothing I didn't expect, Xander. Please don't think I'm going to make it difficult for you if you want to leave."

What Xander's brain heard was pretty much: Card. John. Leave. What his mouth said was, "What?" even as he figured out what Giles was talking about – the Christmas card from John, the one that he'd forgotten about. The one that had both their names in it. "Stay here," Xander said.

Without any more explanation, he turned, fumbling in his pocket for his keys and dropping the ball of twine onto the ground. He stormed over to their front door, unlocked it, and went inside, flicking a light on and heading straight for the desk, where he immediately spotted the envelope in question. He started back for the doorway, but Giles was already standing there, looking upset.

"Here," Xander said, tearing the envelope in his haste to get the card out. "It's to both of us. I wasn't hiding it, or... whatever you thought I was doing. I just forgot."

"I just – I only saw the envelope," Giles said. "Oh God, of course he wouldn't have addressed it to both of us – Xander, I'm – " Without taking the card from Xander's outstretched hand, he walked over to the couch and sat down heavily. Staring down at the floor he said softly, "I'm sorry. I made a mistake. But it doesn't change anything." He glanced up, meeting Xander's eyes squarely. "Do you think I don't know when you're unhappy?"

Oh God. "What?" Xander said faintly. He knew he'd already used that word way too many times that afternoon, but apparently it was all he could come up with. He walked over to the desk and set the card and envelope down on it, then went to the couch and sat down next to Giles. The front door was still open, but he didn't care. This was more important.

"I'm fine," he said, almost to see how it sounded.

"Of course you are." Giles said, nodding. "Absolutely fine, if that's defined as withdrawn, depressed and – Xander, you're just not yourself these days. I can't point to anything in particular, can't give an example, which is probably why it's taken me so long to realize it, but you're just – you've changed." He looked down at his hands, clasped loosely in his lap. "And I'm wondering if it's because this isn't where you want to be any more. With me, I mean."

Xander shook his head. "No. You're the only... I do want to be with you. I love you. That hasn't changed."

Giles gave him a small, rather half-hearted smile. "I think you know what my next question will be." He stood up. "Why don't you think about your answer while we unpack the car? If we leave that tree out there much longer I think we'll be lucky to have more than a few stray needles left. It might be Christmas, but this is still London."

"Yeah, but they'd have to have a knife or something to cut the twine," Xander said, trying to sound more like himself, and, to be honest, trying not to think about the whole kettle of worms – wait, fish – Giles had just brought up. Still, he got up and followed Giles back outside, where he used the tiny jackknife on his key chain to free the trunk – of the tree, since technically the trunk of the car was called the 'boot,' something he'd learned but not really absorbed – from the car.

Carrying it up the stairs with Giles following him in silence, his arms full of the festive greenery which was starting to seem a huge mistake, Xander tried to think how he could make Giles see –

"I love you, too, you know," Giles said quietly.

Xander let the tree take its chances leaning against the wall and turned to Giles, who had deposited his burden on the table and was shrugging out of his coat. There weren't any words to tell Giles how that still made him feel as if the sun was shining, he'd won the lottery and it was his birthday all rolled into one – so he didn't say anything as he crossed the room to Giles, shedding his coat as he walked.

He grabbed onto Giles' upper arms, feeling the thin, fine fabric of his dress shirt under his palms, and kissed him.

It was a thorough, deep kiss, Xander's lips encouraging Giles' to part so that he could flick his tongue inside, tasting Giles in a way that their earlier kisses that day hadn't allowed for. He pushed his hips forward, rubbing his swelling erection against Giles' thigh so there'd be no question as to his intentions.

The tiny moan Giles gave as his eyes closed was encouragement enough, even without the hands that slid around to cup Xander's ass and pull him closer still.

Any hint of hesitation that had been lingering vanished in that moment, and Xander kissed Giles harder, walking him backward until he was pressed to the door frame. He swallowed the small gasp of surprise that Giles uttered and reached between them, cupping Giles' erection with his hand, feeling it throb and harden at his touch. "You taste good," he murmured, then realized that wasn't enough and fumbled with the front of Giles' trousers, struggling to undo them.

Xander dropped to his knees as the trousers slid down Giles' thighs, nuzzling the front of his boxers, blowing warm air through the fabric and mouthing at Giles' cock.

He half-expected Giles to protest – although given the way his cock was reacting, it would have had to be a token protest – but Giles seemed too stunned to do more than accept what was being done to him, encouraging it wordlessly by dropping his hand down to knead Xander's shoulder almost painfully, even as his other hand fumbled to free his cock from the thin fabric.

Xander grabbed Giles' wrist, stopping him from taking even that much control, and pinned it to the wall. He felt it tense, as though Giles was thinking about struggling, and then relax. Trusting that Giles would get the message, Xander released him and saw to stripping Giles of everything he was wearing below the waist, pushing it aside impatiently.

Giles moaned his name, his hips arching just enough that the head of his cock, slick already, slid across Xander's mouth, painting his lips with the taste he'd been craving.

Giving one quick lick, Xander then took Giles into his mouth with a groan, sucking and sliding his tongue around, dropping one hand down to adjust his own aching erection to a more comfortable position in his pants before using both hands on Giles, one on his balls and one on the base of his cock. Giles moaned again, and there was a dull thud as Giles' head tipped back against the door frame.

Giles was making an effort to hold still, Xander could tell, but he seemed unable to stop himself from pushing forward just a little, small thrusts that sent his cock deeper into Xander's mouth. Xander shifted his hand from Giles' balls to his thigh, fingers spread against it, holding Giles in place. The whimper he got for that left him tingling, and if he got any harder he didn't think he'd be able to go much longer without unzipping.

Lifting his head, he used the tip of his tongue to trace a pattern across the sensitive tip of Giles' cock, glancing upwards as he did so and taking in the sight of Giles, panting, open-mouthed, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Xander slid his lips down along Giles' cock again, sucking harder, using his hand to increase the amount of skin that was being stimulated. He could feel how close Giles was to coming by the tension in the thigh under his hand, by how hard Giles' cock was and the sounds Giles was making. All he could think was that he was determined to prove to Giles that he loved him, to drive any lingering doubts from his mind.

He'd never done anything like this before, mostly letting Giles take the lead, though it wasn't as if Giles ever acted like this with him, not really. And just thinking about how it'd feel if he did, once in a while, made his cock throb with an insistent urgency. He'd been given the confidence to do this through panic – and if he wasn't entitled to panic when Giles was talking them into breaking up for no good reason, then he didn't know when he was. Which made no sense and all the sense in the world.

Giles was close now, and Xander finally let him move, slipping his hand around the back of Giles' leg and using the leverage to pull Giles towards him. A year ago he'd have been choking, but a lot had changed in a year.

Giles' hips gave a couple of short, quick jerks forward, his cock sliding between Xander's lips, and Xander couldn't help but groan softly. His hand clutched at the back of Giles' bare thigh, encouraging Giles to do whatever he needed to do, to fuck his mouth hard, if he wanted to, and that thought made Xander groan again.

As if Giles had been waiting for some signal that the rules had changed and that sound was it, he moved, resting his hands on Xander's shoulders. He didn't press down, but Xander could feel the weight of them. Strong hands. He'd seen those hands doubled into fists, seen the knuckles skinned and bloody. He'd seen the scars left by Angelus, felt the small bumps left where broken bones had reformed. He knew those hands. He'd kissed them, tasted himself on each finger, felt them touch and caress and slip inside his body.

Giles didn't need to do more than rest them like that, palms curved, fingers spread, for Xander to wish he could feel them against his skin.

He had to remind himself that it wasn't just about him – it was about Giles, and them, together. He slid his other hand around to Giles' ass, cupping it, feeling taut muscle under the skin, and wordlessly told Giles to move.

Giles did, his cock slipping deeper into Xander's mouth for a second before withdrawing, hot, swollen skin slicking wetly through Xander's lips and then in again, even deeper this time. Giles groaned, his hands tightening on Xander's shoulders, and fucked his mouth again. Xander was an eager, willing participant, sucking as hard as he could.

Giles' movements began to speed up as the fine line of his control began to blur. Xander could feel it shred with every thrust, every choked gasp that forced its way past Giles's lips. He couldn't look up now; all his concentration was needed to make this perfect for Giles, for them, so that each surge forward was met with his tongue, swirling and lapping, each swift jerk back with the faintest scrape of his teeth.

He felt Giles' cock harden still more, and Giles froze for a second, then cried out Xander's name, his hands clutching hard enough to hurt, not that Xander cared right then. He could feel the shudder that went though Giles, feel the moment when he began to come, his back arching so that his cock went deeper still. Xander pulled back just a little so he could swallow, his own arousal so intense that he had to fight not to follow Giles over.

The taste was familiar, almost reassuring, and it made Xander's mouth fill with a rush of saliva as he determinedly coaxed every last pulse from Giles, whose hands were loosening on his shoulders.

When Xander pulled back to look up at Giles, the other man was looking down at him, eyes dark.

Without speaking, Giles fell to his knees, gathering Xander to him and kissing him hard. Xander had never gotten used to the way it felt when Giles kissed him. Even a brief, almost friendly kiss was something to savor, but when he was being kissed like this, Giles' mouth hungry and demanding, his tongue sliding against Xander's, it was overwhelming.

Giles' hands were on him, tugging impatiently at his clothes. "Want these off," he told Xander hoarsely, breaking the silence. "Want to see you, touch you..."

Xander was just as anxious for more – between the two of them, it didn't take long for him to shed his clothes, although it did require some rather awkward contortions because they just couldn't seem to stop kissing each other. "Just... here," Xander said, almost tearing the sleeve of his shirt in his haste to get it off, and then Giles' hands were on his bare chest, and he groaned.

Giles had taken off his shirt, too, which meant Xander would've had something good to look at if he could've brought himself to move away from Giles. Wasn't going to happen. He happily swapped the pleasure of looking at that solid, deceptively strong body for the immediacy of being close enough for Giles to touch him.

And Giles was taking full advantage of that. His hands were skimming over Xander's body, caresses that were on the rough side, but Xander wasn't going to break, and knowing that he could do this to Giles was driving him crazy.

"You do realize," Xander said finally, between heated kisses, "that we're naked on the sitting room floor?"

Giles made a small sound of agreement, which was pretty much all he could do, since he was kissing Xander again, his hands on Xander's back, pulling him closer. Xander's erection was pressed to Giles' abdomen, and, God, it felt so good.

Then Giles reached down, running the edge of his thumb up the length of Xander's cock and across the head, and good just got better.

Xander wrenched his mouth away from Giles' to gasp out his name, needing to say something to make Giles do that again, but Giles already was, repeating the slow, firm pressure, watching Xander's reaction as he did it.

"What do you want, Xander?" he murmured. "What do you want to do now?"

"I want... Ahh, God, I can't think when you're doing that." Xander reached down and stilled Giles' hand, and Giles let him. Xander couldn't resist the impulse to kiss Giles again, hard, and, again, Giles let him take the lead, let him control the force of their mouths against each other. "I want you," Xander said, meaning something he'd never meant before when he said it.

Giles gave him a look that came close to making Xander come right then, narrow-eyed and oddly satisfied. "I wondered how long it would take you to tell me that," he said, cupping the side of Xander's face and dragging his thumb lightly across Xander's mouth. "Here? Or do you think we can make it to the bedroom?"

"The bedroom," Xander said, caught up in the moment so entirely that nothing else mattered. He got to his feet, pulling Giles up, too, then led the other man toward the stairs. "I want to do this in our bed."

In the bedroom, he didn't even bother to turn on the lights, just pushed Giles down onto the bed and climbed on top of him, rubbing against him, feeling the soft inside of Giles' thigh against his hard cock.

He kissed Giles' mouth again, roughly, then moved his lips to Giles' neck, licking and biting. "I want to fuck you," he muttered. "God, I want to. Want you so bad."

Giles moved his head restlessly against the pillow, "That feels so – " He made an inarticulate sound, raking his nails down Xander's back hard enough to leave a sting behind. "Fuck me, Xander. Want you to. Please."

Xander groaned and reached for the lube. Surprisingly, he didn't feel particularly nervous, even though he'd never actually done this before. On the other hand, he'd been on the receiving end a hell of a lot of times, and it couldn't be all that different.

He slid slick fingers over Giles' balls and then below, teasing Giles gently, and Giles moaned and rocked his hips. They'd done this much before, sometimes when Xander was sucking Giles off, but he'd never put more than a finger inside Giles' ass, and now he could only wonder why, when it was so tight and hot in there...

He tried to imagine what it would feel like to have that heat against his cock, how relentless the pressure would be, and had to stop everything for a moment, stilling the gentle movement of his hand, resting his forehead against Giles' shoulder as he regained control.

Then, just as Giles shifted and began to speak, Xander added a second finger, pushing in firmly and slowly, lifting his head so he could watch Giles' face as he did it.

And he wondered if he looked like this when Giles was fucking him; open, vulnerable, expectant. Maybe he did. Because there was always a moment when Giles smiled down at him reassuringly, lovingly, and he could feel that smile curve his own lips now as he drew a moan from Giles with a twist of his wrist.

Xander withdrew his fingers, stifling Giles' slight whimper with his mouth, kissing him gently. "You sure this is okay?"

"God, yes," Giles said hoarsely. "Don't stop. Please." He wrapped his hand around Xander's wrist, rubbing his thumb over the pulse point and in circles on Xander's palm. The unexpected caress sent a small shock of arousal through him, sweeping away any doubts.

He reached for the lube and passed it to Giles. "Put it on me," he said. "I want to feel your hands on me." And he echoed back Giles' last word. "Please?"

Giles seemed happy to oblige, even if the first wet touch of his fingers made Xander gasp and twitch and close his eyes. He had to breathe slowly, concentrating so that he wouldn't come right then, as Giles spread lube over skin that felt so tight and sensitive that Xander wasn't sure he could stand it.

"Keep breathing," Giles advised, sounding... God, so turned on and eager, his left hand sliding down to coat Xander's balls with lube, too, even though that wasn't really necessary.

Xander watched as Giles reached over and let the lube drop to the floor, heard the muffled thud as it hit. The smell of the lube, vaguely medicinal, struck Xander as he took his cock in hand and guided it to the right spot, and he groaned as he started to push inside, forcing himself to keep control.

It helped that he knew how Giles would be feeling – well, it helped him not to worry that he was hurting him, although it didn't do much to take the edge off his arousal. It let him be there with a kiss as Giles gasped at that first wave of sensation, half burn, half tickle, weird though that sounded, maddeningly not enough and too much all at the same time. It let him remember to take it slowly, nudging, gentle thrusts, eased by the generous coating of slick.

And when Giles' fingers dug into his arms and his hips tilted just right, it let him know that he didn't have to go slowly any more, and he drew back just enough and began to fuck Giles, lost in the look of pleasure that spread over Giles' face.

"God, you're so..." But Xander didn't really have words for it, for the strength and heat of Giles' body around him, for the way Giles moved to meet every thrust, for the fact that he was actually fucking someone again instead of being fucked, and everything that went along with that. And Giles was letting him – no, not just letting him, but loving it, and him, and Xander crushed his mouth to Giles' and thrust faster, letting his body take over, take control.

He'd been too close to coming for too long to make it last, but it didn't matter. Giles was doing nothing but encouraging him, with his hands, his mouth and the sounds he was making; guttural, urgent noises that wrapped around Xander the way Giles' body was.

He wanted to come, but not until – he reached between them and palmed Giles' cock, fitting it inside the tight circle of his fist and working it in time with his own final thrusts until he lost the ability to do more than cry out as his climax rolled over him.

Xander's cock throbbed so strongly that he wasn't sure he was going to stay conscious, and then he felt a warm wetness against his abdomen and the almost painful tightening of Giles' body around him, and everything went gray and fuzzy for a few seconds.

When he was able to remember to breathe again, he was collapsed on top of Giles. He gave a great gasp for air, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. "You okay?" he murmured.

Giles' hand moved in slow strokes on his back. "God, yes," he sighed. "More than that. You were – Xander, are you all right?"

Xander moved to the side so that his weight wasn't pressed down on Giles, grabbing a handful of tissues from the night-stand and passing some to Giles, who took them with a murmured word of thanks.

"All right? Yes. Hovering on the edge of consciousness, but otherwise okay." Xander smiled at Giles reassuringly. He felt like maybe part of his brain had melted with the force of his orgasm and taken with it whatever it was they'd been talking about before, which he had a vague feeling should be just fine with him. When they were both as clean as they'd get without a shower, he put his arm around Giles' waist and snuggled close. "That was... wow. Do you think we could do it again some time?"

"As long as you're not talking about in the next hour or so, most certainly," Giles said, stretching out with a contented murmur. He gave Xander a gentle kiss, holding him close. "I love you. I don't tell you that often enough. And it's not just because of times like this, wonderful though that was. You, in my life, it's just – " He shook his head. "It's more than I deserve."

But Xander knew that he was the one who should feel grateful – he wasn't stupid, after all. He knew exactly how lucky he was, and there was no way he was going to take any chance on screwing things up. No way at all. "Hey," he said, keeping his tone light and joking. "You deserve all kinds of good things. Possibly the kind that don't leave wet towels on the bathroom floor and forget to write 'sugar' on the grocery list."

"I didn't say you were perfect," Giles pointed out with a straight face. He ran his hand down Xander's back until it rested snugly against his ass. "But I'll overlook your many flaws – "

"My what?" Xander said indignantly.

"Many flaws," Giles said. "Like the way you interrupt me when I'm about to tell you how they don't matter because I wouldn't want them to change. Wouldn't want you to change."

Xander pressed himself more closely to Giles and sighed. "I think we should wait until tomorrow to put up the tree. We could order in some dinner and come back to bed early?" That thought made his cock give a half-hearted twitch of interest.

"I think you're absolutely right," Giles said, tilting his head to bite down gently on the curve where Xander's neck met his shoulder, the one spot guaranteed to make him shiver. "The tree can wait. Food we don't have to cook sounds like a good idea, too." He nuzzled into Xander's neck. "Going to be difficult ordering it, paying for it, and eating it, when I'm not inclined to let you move an inch, though."

Xander rolled on top of Giles again, pinning him to the mattress. "Who says I'm going to want to let you move?" he asked, and kissed Giles hard. By the time he pulled back, Giles' eyes were dilated. "Well, I might let you go as far as the shower. But only because I'm thinking I might like to fuck you again in there." The thought of being in control like that sent a delicious shudder through him, and he grinned to make sure Giles knew he wasn't turning into a different person or anything. "And then maybe you could fuck me in here. I guess we'll have to find time in there for dinner..."

"To keep my energy levels from flagging?" Giles said, arching an eyebrow. He gave a slightly shaky laugh. "That sounds exhausting and wonderful at one and the same time." He turned his head to place a kiss against Xander's hand, still wrapped around his wrist and holding him in place. "I'm going to place myself entirely in your hands then." His green eyes were half-closed as he relaxed, and the glance Xander got from them was half challenge, half surrender. He wasn't sure which turned him on more.

This was definitely going to be an interesting evening.