'The Power of Persuasion' Final part. By Jane Davitt and Wesleysgirl Giles/Ethan NC17

[janedavitt]

Here is the end of this fic. Thanks so much to those who've been reading and commenting; much appreciated!

And thanks once again to our beta readers mogigraphia and wolfling :;many hugs::

Working with wesleysgirl was, as ever and always, a delight and I'm happy to say that we're 46,000 words into another fic featuring a pairing that we've done before, but with a twist. I shall say no more but look mysterious and knowing. Feel free to throw things at me :-)


Previous parts here



The Power of Persuasion

by Jane Davitt and Wesleygirl

Part Eleven

He took his time driving back to the cottage after, not only because he wanted to give the Council team time to take care of the clean up, but also because he was, quite frankly, exhausted. He stopped at a service station for a cup of coffee that was unsurprisingly bitter and that helped give him enough energy to make it the rest of the way.

The Council's team was just finishing up when Giles arrived, so he sat in the warm car and waited until they'd closed the van and nodded at him before going into the cottage.

With the efficiency they showed when it came to tasks like this, there wasn't a trace of the three men or the fight. Not that there'd been much to deal with. He supposed that three electrocuted bodies didn't compare to eviscerated corpses and demon slime.

The bed was still covered with rumpled sleeping bags, the quilt and pillow still on the floor.

Giles walked over to the bed, lay down, and stopped thinking about anything for as long as he could manage it. He couldn't sleep; the remnants of the magic, tattered shreds of it, still clung to him, and he was riding the line between exhaustion and exhilaration with despair waiting patiently for its turn.

What they had done that night had been reckless, but they'd had no other choice; allowing the demon to escape the circle would've resulted in carnage on a scale he didn't like to think about. He still didn't know exactly what had happened at the house and he was having trouble working out why Ethan had gone alone, but – and he was thinking about Ethan again.

Deciding that lying on the bed he'd shared with Ethan wasn't really the best idea he'd ever had, he sat up, absently stroking his hand across Ethan's pillow and smoothing out the indentation of his head. There. Gone. Like Ethan.

It suddenly seemed very amusing that Ethan should be the one to leave this time. Giles started to laugh and caught himself as the sound, over-loud in the empty room, emerged as more of a sob.

Standing up, he walked to the whisky bottle and poured himself a drink, sitting down at the table. Ethan's letter was in his pocket; he'd passed the translation over to the men who'd arrived at Carlton's place, all the explanation he'd needed for what had happened, and he knew Travers would want to see it. It would end up in a file somewhere, he supposed.

Ethan's letter, though, like Ethan, had played no part in his terse summary. No need to complicate matters, and the last thing Ethan needed was to have the Council tracking him down.

He took out the letter and read it before tossing it onto the table and pouring himself another drink.

Giles sat there for a long time, staring at the table and taking the occasional sip of his whisky. He'd nearly reached the bottom of the glass and had begun to suspect that he might finally be able to sleep when he heard the sound of a car outside and a moment later the door opened, revealing an Ethan who looked, in the light from the lantern and the fire as weary as Giles felt.

Giles set down his glass and then thought better of it, picking it up and draining it before speaking. "I thought you'd gone. Thought you weren't coming back."

He tried very hard to keep it from sounding accusatory – or desperate – but he couldn't help the tremor in his voice. He put the glass on the table, pushing it away from him, all his attention on Ethan.

Ethan came further into the room, watching Giles' face as if trying to determine what he was thinking. "I had to come back," Ethan said shakily. "Everything I have is here."

Giles stood up. "Yes, I suppose it is," he said. He moved towards Ethan because he couldn't stay at a distance from him, couldn't let himself think, even for a moment, that Ethan might just be talking about the pitifully small holdall he'd brought with him, and that he'd have to watch him leave again. "Does everything include me?"

"I'd like to think so." Ethan's eyes were dark, searching. "Does it?"

"Yes," Giles said. "You know that it does." He couldn't find the words that would make Ethan see that without doubt, with the utter certainty that he felt, so he settled for stepping close enough that Ethan could touch him if he wanted to, holding his hands by his side with an effort. "Why did you go?"

"You might be expecting too much of me if you think I can answer that," Ethan said, shrugging slightly. "I could say that it was because I needed to think, but I'm not sure I actually did all that much thinking. It's a good thing there was no one on the roads." He inched closer, looking for all the world as if he needed comfort.

"I was angry with you," Giles said slowly. "But you must have known why. Christ, Ethan, seeing you like that, so close to dying –" He shuddered. "I thought I'd lost you," he said. "I thought I'd lost you, and –" It was impossible to convey the desolation of that moment, and he didn't want to. He moved closer to Ethan, taking the final step needed to bring them together and slipping one hand up to cup his cheek. "Don't do that again, love. Please?"

Ethan closed his eyes briefly at the touch, but remained stubborn. "I didn't have a choice. You know that. If Carlton had had better sense than to get too close and Eshkath hadn't been able to get a claw into him, there'd have been other options." He seemed to be seeking approval, or perhaps just acknowledgment. "When I read that last stanza and understood what the spell needed..."

"Ethan?" Giles leant in and kissed him, the fleeting contact leaving him aching for more. He just wanted to hold Ethan, hold him for hours until having him back felt real. "Tell me later?"

A pause no longer than a heartbeat, and then Ethan's mouth was on his, the kiss more desperate than passionate, Ethan's hands clutching at Giles' shirt and pulling him closer as if Ethan wanted them to share the same space. "Ripper," Ethan breathed, licking at Giles' lips.

"I'm right here," Giles said, tugging Ethan's hands away so that he could rub against him and giving a satisfied murmur as Ethan instantly slid them around his waist, bringing them together. "Right here."

He opened his mouth to Ethan's tongue, kissing him back without reserve. Ethan's mouth was warm against his, and that was enough to make his able to slow the kiss down to something equally filled with yearning but less frantic.

The kisses were long, breathless, eager. Ethan's hands ran up Giles' back to his shoulders, clinging and then travelled down along his spine and over his lower back as if memorising every inch of skin beneath his shirt. "Need you," Ethan muttered, pushing his hips forward to demonstrate.

"Bed," Giles said, making a soft sound in his throat as he felt Ethan's erection brush against his own, the image of Ethan stretched out naked beside him filling his head. Even so he paused to give Ethan one more kiss before they moved over to the bed and had to separate long enough to strip, shedding their clothes quickly.

He'd barely finished kicking off his second shoe, feet still entangled in his trousers, when a naked Ethan was in his arms again, either unable or unwilling to wait until they were in bed. The feel of Ethan's bare skin against his own made Giles gasp and grab onto Ethan's upper arms. "Please," Ethan managed to get out. "Just... need..."

Then Ethan slid to his knees and his hot, wet mouth closed around the head of Giles' cock.

"Oh God," Giles managed to say through the teeth he was gritting. "Ethan..."

The eager, deep pull of Ethan's mouth was taking away his ability to speak coherently, but he knew he couldn't remain standing for much longer. Luckily, he was close enough to the bed that all he had to do was take a handful of Ethan's hair to halt him for a second, just a second because Ethan whimpered and the sound became tactile, drawing an answering moan from Giles, and collapse onto the bed, with Ethan still on his knees. He managed to free his feet from his trousers in the process, although he wasn't sure how and didn't care. It was enough that they were both naked now.

He kept his hand in Ethan's hair, using his other hand to brace himself against the bed because he wanted – needed – to be touching Ethan, but made no attempt to control what Ethan was doing.

It was probably just as well – Ethan didn't seem capable of being controlled. He was like a force of nature, something so utterly unpredictable that he took one's breath away with his magnificence, and Giles realised in that moment that he wouldn't have changed that about Ethan even if he could.

Ethan gave a throaty growl, the sound crawling up the insides of Giles' thighs and making his balls tighten. He looked up, meeting Giles' eyes steadily, and the sight of his own cock in Ethan's mouth was enough to make Giles groan.

He spread his legs wider, arching his hips up slightly just to be able to see the slide of his cock past Ethan's lips, running his tongue over his own slowly enough to make it clear he was doing it deliberately, waiting to see how Ethan would respond with an anticipation he didn't bother to conceal.

Ethan took him in deeper, sucked harder then suddenly surged upward, knocking Giles flat onto his back on the bed, straddling him. From below, in the dim light, Ethan looked wiry, strong, and rather exceedingly pleased with himself. He bent and kissed Giles, lips coaxing Giles' to part as Ethan spread his legs and rubbed the soft skin of his balls and inner thighs over Giles' erection. "I do like the way you look at me," Ethan murmured.

"How do I look at you?" Giles asked him, stroking his hands over the curve of Ethan's backside before taking one hand away and hooking it behind his head, putting himself on display for Ethan with a small, challenging quirk of his lips. "Like I want to fuck you? Like you're mine? Like I love you?" He moved his head restlessly as Ethan repeated his caress. "Because they're all true."

Ethan's mouth twisted into something Giles was certain was a smile, although Ethan didn't seem quite so sure. He bent and kissed Giles again, hard cock slicking a wet line onto Giles' belly. "Somehow, I'm not finding it difficult to believe that you want to fuck me," Ethan said, reaching back and fondling Giles' balls with more gentleness than Giles would have thought him capable of at that moment.

"I'll let you have a contrary opinion on the second one, but not the third," Giles said. He moved his hand down and drew his finger through the slickness on his stomach, bringing it to his mouth and licking it clean without looking away from Ethan's face. "Want me to convince you? Or do you want to shut me up?" He let his gaze fall to Ethan's cock and smiled. "I can think of one way..."

"There are plenty of ways to shut you up," Ethan said, grinning. "Gags, for one. Although I rather fancy being able to hear the things you say when you're fucking me. Going back to the previous topic of conversation." He pushed his hips back, very nearly getting them into position with nothing more than the gyration of his body. "I did like that topic of conversation, Ripper."

"It was hardly a conversation," Giles pointed out, trying to ignore the urge to push up into Ethan and feel the tight heat of his body around his cock. He propped himself up on his elbows and gave Ethan a slow, wicked smile. "I said I wanted to fuck you. You said you believed me. End of story." He reached up and slipped his hand around Ethan's neck, pulling his head down and biting gently at Ethan's lip. "Wanting and doing are two different things, Ethan, but they can work together. If you want me in you, you've got to do something." He turned his head and stared at the small table beside the bed. "Besides reach out and grab that bottle of lube, that is."

Ethan did, he noticed, obey that part of it quickly enough, leaning the required distance to reach the bottle of lube and squeezing some of it onto his fingers. Ethan's hand disappeared around behind his thigh, and Giles could tell from his expression and movements that he was preparing himself, slicking himself up. "What is it that I have to do?" Ethan asked, stroking Giles' erection lightly with still-sticky fingers in a way that Giles was certain Ethan knew drove him near-mad with desire.

He closed his eyes for a moment to regain some small measure of control, impossible when he was staring into Ethan's dark eyes, alight with arousal and mischief. "You," he said, opening them again, "know me too well, don't you?" He reached out and took hold of Ethan's cock, running his thumb up and down the shaft with a touch as teasingly light as Ethan's. "But it goes both ways. I remember everything I ever did to you, Ethan. Every place on your body where I could touch you and feel you quiver, kiss you and make you moan." He let his gaze travel over Ethan's body, still lithe and strong. "I still could. And I will. But you wanted to talk." He didn't wait for Ethan to protest that interpretation of his words, just lay back and ran his hands over Ethan's hips, pushing him down so that the head of his cock nudged firmly against Ethan's opening. "Second topic, Ethan." He was having trouble keeping his voice light, and his hands were digging into Ethan's skin. "I say you're mine, and it seems you've got a problem with that." He pushed up, feeling the slicked skin give way slightly, allowing him to slide the head of his cock into Ethan's body. "I'm here, and I'm yours, Ethan. Do you have a problem with that, too?"

Ethan's jaw tightened as Giles eased into him, nostrils flaring as he breathed in through them before giving a slight shake of his head.

"Wouldn't call it a problem, no." Ethan's hands were braced on Giles' chest.

"Well, that's something," Giles murmured. He wasn't in the best position to push up, but he only had to relax his grip on Ethan's hips to get a little further inside him as Ethan sank down immediately, his gasp mirrored by Giles'. "Thank you," Giles said, tightening his hands again. "That's enough."

It really wasn't, though. Giles felt heat prickle over him, teasing licks of arousal. Ethan was there, slippery and open and ready for him and he wanted to lie back and watch Ethan fuck himself on Giles' cock, wanted to watch his face as he did it, see his mouth shape moans and say words that wouldn't make sense at any other time. Giles abandoned the attempt to convince Ethan for a moment and looked up at him. "Ethan –" He moved one hand, trailing it over the jutting hipbone, up over Ethan's stomach, feeling the muscles tense and harden. "Can't do this," he said, his voice hoarse. He dragged his fingernails down Ethan's belly, hard enough to leave marks. "I want you and I can't wait and you're mine and I love you and fuck-"

Ethan leant in, bracing himself with one hand on either side of Giles' head so that their eyes could meet while continuing to raise and lower himself on Giles' cock. With his expression surprisingly tender, Ethan said, "What do you want, Ripper? Do you want to throw me on my back and fuck me long and hard until I can't do anything but shout your name? Or shall we do it like this, with me riding you? Tell me what you need, love." The last word slipped out as if Ethan was unaware he'd spoken it.

"Stay," Giles managed to say, his eyes locked on Ethan's face. "Like this. Stay." He raised himself on his elbows. "And you know what I need. What I want." He glared at him, feeling a sudden flash of hurt anger. "And don't call me that if you don't mean it."

"Call you...?" Ethan looked puzzled then he smiled gently and leant the three or four inches so that he could kiss Giles, the press of his mouth soft and slow. "You want me to say that I love you, Rupert? How can you possibly not know that? I've loved you since the first time we met, and I've never stopped."

The warmth of the words and the gentle kiss left Giles feeling calmer, but he shook his head stubbornly. "I do want to hear that," he said. "But that's not what I meant." He kissed Ethan's neck, feeling the steady, swift beat of his pulse and flickering his tongue against the smooth skin. He paused and turned his head to glance up at Ethan. "I love you. Tell me you believe that. Tell me you trust that not to change, and I'll stop talking."

He'd have thought that Ethan might agree to anything in that moment just to shut him up, but instead the other man stopped moving entirely, gaze solemn. "Can I trust you?" Ethan asked. "Is it true?" He seemed to need the words as badly as Giles needed them to be believed.

"It's been true for years," Giles told him. "All that anger and guilt I felt; it was all you saw – all I wanted you to see – but I never stopped loving you. I can't see it changing now. I don't want it to." Nothing mattered right then but making Ethan accept that, and Giles wasn't sure if he would. If he could.

Ethan kissed him again, very slowly, tongue tracing Giles' upper lip. Then, "I want to believe you. I don't suppose that will do?" Ethan sounded rather sad as if he were prepared to be sent away.

"It's better than nothing, but I want more than that," Giles said. He slipped his hand around Ethan's neck, stroking his thumb slowly across the hollow behind Ethan's ear and watching him shiver. "I'm going to keep asking you, you know. Every day until you tell me you do." He turned his head and bit down hard on Ethan's earlobe. "Every single bloody day," he whispered.

With a small, needy sound, Ethan caught Giles' mouth with his own and proceeded to kiss him eagerly, starting the rocking motion of his hips again and making Giles groan. "Is it all right if I do this in the meantime?" Ethan murmured. "Because it does remind me of one of the reasons I love you."

As Giles wasn't sure how much longer he could have waited before thrusting up into Ethan, he wasn't inclined to argue, settling for growling, "You're incorrigible, you know that?" before placing his hands on Ethan's arse, encouraging him to sink down deeper.

"Oh, I know," Ethan agreed, arching his back. "It's why I'm so appealing." Following Giles' urging hands, he began to move rhythmically, fucking himself on Giles' cock. He looked, Giles had to admit, exceedingly appealing like that, with his eyes half-closed and his lips parted, cock swollen and dark and wet at the tip.

Keeping one hand on Ethan's flank, enjoying the feel of his muscles bunching and releasing as Ethan moved, Giles brought his other hand around to caress Ethan's cock lightly, brushing his hands lower across his balls and watching them tighten. He glanced up, saw Ethan bite down on his lip and grinned. "Is it still appealing when it's me being incorrigible?" he asked, continuing to touch Ethan with his fingertips, but doing no more than that, knowing Ethan wanted his hand tight and hard around his cock, stripping it ruthlessly.

"Now you're just being cruel," Ethan said, curling his own fingers around himself, tangled with Giles', and squeezing until Giles could feel the ridge just below Ethan's cock head catch as it rubbed across the pad at the base of his finger.

"And yet you trust me enough to let me tie you up," Giles said, not making it a question. He began to work Ethan's cock with slow, firm strokes, Ethan waiting until he was sure Giles wouldn't stop before taking his hand away. "You don't think I wouldn't be just as cruel to you then?" He ran his tongue across his lips, watching Ethan's eyes. "I will be, you know. I'll make you beg –" He closed his eyes for a moment as his cock throbbed, the images in his head coupled with the here-and-now threatening to leave his precarious control in ruins.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Ethan said, his eyes fairly glowing at the prospect as his movements became more forceful. "Like this?" He lowered his voice, making it gravelly and dark, the sound making Giles' balls ache. "Please, Ripper. Fuck me. I'll promise anything you like if you'll fuck me. Please."

"God, yes, just like that," Giles said fervently, not bothering to hide the effect Ethan was having on him, his words forced out between gasps. "And I always did." He slowed down the slide of his hand over Ethan's cock even more, although he kept his grip tight. "Eventually. Because I loved hearing how much you wanted me." He gave Ethan a tight smile, not sure how much longer he could make this last. Not now Ethan was slamming down against him like that, fast and perfect, with Giles managing to thrust up into him just a little, trying to keep his cock deep inside Ethan's heat – He began to jerk Ethan off properly, with rapid, urgent strokes, too close to coming now to make either of them wait. "Still...do..."

Ethan gave a strangled cry and moved faster, fucking himself on Giles' cock and into Giles' hand, breathing harsh and ragged. "Ripper..." A gasp, a twitch, and Ethan came, spilling his release over Giles' fingers, mouth open and eyes closed.

Giles didn't know what brought his own climax rushing through him, but if he had to pick something out of the assault on his senses, he'd have chosen Ethan's final word. No one said that name the way Ethan did, making it a taunt, a reminder, an endearment. No one ever had.

He started to come as Ethan's eyes opened, staring down at him, dark and wild and lost in pleasure, his hips jerking up with a desperate need for just one more thrust, one more moment inside Ethan's body. But with the echo of his name on Ethan's lips he couldn't make this last and he gave in, allowing his release to take him, leave him with nothing to do but slip his arms around Ethan and hold on.

For long minutes afterward neither of them moved, Ethan seemingly content to lie sprawled on top of Giles while they both caught their breath. "Mm," Ethan said finally, managing to stretch a bit without supporting his own weight. He lifted his head and kissed Giles – not just once and perfunctorily as Giles would have expected, but slowly and with small sounds of pleasure and contentment.

Giles returned the kisses, caught up in a haze of happiness that was centred on Ethan, bound up in him. They eased apart, rolling to their sides, still wrapped around each other, still sharing the soft, loving kisses that were making Giles feel that if he asked Ethan his question again, he might get a different answer.

But that could wait.

Some time later, they both drifted into a light doze, and just as the sun was coming up, Giles woke to find himself alone in the bed. "Ethan?" he mumbled. There was no reply.

Half-drugged with sleep, Giles got up and went to the front window, but both cars were still in the drive, although Ethan's jacket seemed to be missing and the door was not quite latched.

He pulled on his own shoes and jacket and went outside, blinking at the pale orange of sunrise and almost immediately spotting Ethan sitting on a rock overlooking the sea, back to the cottage. At the sound of Giles' shoes crunching on pebbles, Ethan turned and saw him. "I really hate the great outdoors," Ethan said, with a little smile.

"City boy," Giles said with a nod, joining him by the rock. "I remember." He sat down beside Ethan on the grass, damp, but not enough to bother him, and leant against him, resting his arm on Ethan's leg. "We'll be back there soon, I'm sure." He glanced up at him, seeing that Ethan looked tired still, but far more relaxed. "How do you feel this morning?"

"Tip top shape," Ethan said. "Good as new." He brushed some sand from his trousers and then he leant forward and picked up a stone about the size of a plum, holding it in his palm where Giles could see it. With a muttered word, the rock turned to a handful of sand, grains drifting and sparkling in the morning light.

Giles tensed, waiting for the skies to darken, or worse, but nothing happened. He picked up a pinch of the sand and smiled. "So you are." He sat for a moment in thought. "Last night?" he guessed. "There was a lot of power flying around..."

Nodding, Ethan tossed what was left of the sand to the ground. "Must have been. When I grabbed hold of all that power you'd so thoughtfully collected, something... shifted back into place. I can't really explain it better than that, but I suppose I have one fewer reason to hate Mr. Carlton, at least." The sea in front of them was tinged a strange combination of pink and green, the waves lapping gently over the rocks. "So. I'm back to normal," Ethan said casually.

Giles laughed, the sound not carrying far in the open space around them, swept away by a breeze from the sea, salt-laden and fresh. "I have to say, Ethan, it's not an adjective I'd ever associate with you, no matter what your state of health." He tilted his head. "I'm out of a job then. You don't need me to stay close any more." He sighed. "Pity. I rather enjoyed it."

The look Ethan gave him was, unsurprisingly, guarded, and he was clearly making an effort to sound casual when he said, "Should we just go our separate ways then? Since you've gone and made yourself redundant."

Giles felt a moment of confused panic that led, inevitably, to him snapping at Ethan. "What? No, certainly not!" He stood up, giving Ethan an indignant look. "Are you saying the only reason you agreed to us trying again was because you thought you'd be stuck like that for a while? Well, thank you very bloody much!"

"I was trying to provide you with an easy out, if you wanted one," Ethan said. "I'm not... I may not be the same person I was some twenty-odd years ago in London, Rupert, but I'm not all that different, either. Bit late for this leopard to change his spots. I don't know if I would even if I could. Not even for you." He was looking out to sea again, the line of his shoulders tense.

"Which would be a problem if you were planning to end the world or something similar," Giles said, "because then I'd have to stop you. But you could've done that any time you wanted these last few months, and you didn't." He stared past Ethan to the restless sea below. "And you never would, past, present or future. It's not in you." He moved to stand beside Ethan, not touching him, not yet. "You don't need to change to be someone I can love, Ethan. You already are."

"I think I like the world a little too much to try to end it," Ethan said, leaving Giles to wonder if he'd been listening at all. He turned his head and looked at Giles. "Come on, it's cold. Let's get you back inside."

"I'm not the one who decided to leave a warm bed containing an equally warm me to watch the sunrise," Giles said, slipping his arms around Ethan as the other man stood up and kissing him briefly. "If I've got cold hands now, it's entirely your fault." He frowned. "You're not planning on making a habit of it, are you? Because it's going to ruin my plans for tomorrow if you do."

"Oh really?" Ethan said as they started toward the cottage with an arm each wrapped around the other's waist. "And what plans are those?"

"They start with you bringing me a cup of tea..." Giles began, carrying on before Ethan had chance to do more than raise his eyebrows. "Which will have to be thrown away because by the time I've finished thanking you for it it'll be stone cold and I probably won't have the strength to lift it anyway."

Ethan's grin was wide. "I think I could get on board with that sort of plan," he said, slipping his hand between Giles' shirt and jacket.

"Good," Giles said. "Because I was thinking of repeating it at regular intervals. It's a simple plan. Unless you think that would get boring?" He turned within Ethan's arm, bringing them close, his eyes searching Ethan's face for any hint of unhappiness. "Do you?"

"Boring?" Ethan said. "Us?" He shook his head, everything about him radiating an oddly peaceful but still Ethan-like delight. "Not if we don't let it, Rupert."

"You know we'll argue, don't you?" Giles told him, unable to resist leaning in and kissing him, needing to feel Ethan kiss him back. "No one in the world gets me as annoyed as you do." He bit down gently on Ethan's lip. "We used to do that a lot. Argue. Fight." His hands moved slowly down Ethan's back. "And you did it on purpose most of the time, and I let you because making up was so... spectacular." He slid his tongue past Ethan's for a deeper kiss and murmured, "I'm quite looking forward to our first argument."

"I'm not above manufacturing one," Ethan said. "Although I wouldn't mind waiting a few days." He kissed Giles again. "Are you free on Thursday?"

"Yes," said Giles, reaching out to push open the cottage door. "I am."

"What about the Wednesday after that?" Ethan asked, and at Giles' look, he explained, "Wouldn't want to fall into too predictable a routine."

Giles shook his head. "No, we wouldn't. I'll clear my calendar for you all the same, shall I?"

"No need," Ethan said, with a playful grin. "Far more fun to distract you from what you should be doing."

"Ethan..." Giles protested, but it was a token protest at best, and they both knew it.

"We're supposed to be arguing," Ethan reminded him. "Now, let's pack up and get back to civilisation, shall we?"

Giles caught him by the arm as he began to turn away and pulled him in for another kiss, hard and passionate. "Or we could go back to bed."

Ethan smiled. "Persuade me," he said.

The End