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My smutty, kinky, utterly consuming Spike/Giles that had me feeling as if I was sandwiched between the two of them ::pauses to go to happy place:: has retreated behind glass. I can see it, just can't grab it. I've got four (yes, FOUR) versions of chapter three on the go and they're all not right.
So I'm leaving it alone until I can do it right, espcially as I've got two challenge fics to do and a Spike/Giles/Wes WIP too. And there's a non fic piece. And the Hallowe'en one. Oh, God. Mind melt.
I've also got masses of posts to answer but I have to go and get some sleep. I'm not thinking straight so don't think I'm ignoring you if you sent me feedback or a reply ::hugs::
Here's one draft version of a possible chapter three of Behind Closed Doors anyway because I promised more and I hate not delivering. Sorry :-(
I lay next to Giles, watching him sleep. Do that a lot. I’ve been here with him for a month maybe and there’s no way I can get used to being awake in the day that fast. Night is for killing, feeding, playing...sleeping through most of it is hard. He doesn’t ask me to, mind, but if one of us is going to change the habits of a lifetime, I’m not putting money on it being him.
We got back from my crypt and went straight to bed. He held me, the way he does when he’s happy, arms so strong. Call it a cuddle though and he’d give you an icy stare. Heh. Now he’s asleep I’ve pulled away a little, giving him some space. He’s used to this bed being his, likes to sprawl out across it. When he does and I’m in the way, he wakes up enough to sigh, just softly, and he either curls up to make room for me or growls and grabs me, pulling me under him, rocking against me until we’re both hard. He did that once, biting my ear and my neck the whole time and then rolled away, telling me to stay hard until he woke up. “What about you?” I hissed, sneaking a look at the clock. Christ; I’d got four hours to wait...
He chuckled, sounding sleepy and smug. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Spike.” He rolled back, put his hand on the back of my neck – and if anything makes me want to whimper, it’s that – and shoved me down, under the covers. He didn’t say anything else then. Well; didn’t need instructions with his cock inches away, slicked up with what we’d been doing before he decided sleeping was so fucking vital. I licked it clean, tasting myself on it, loving the way the scents were mixed and strong. It was dark and the covers were over me so I couldn’t see him. That felt odd. I love watching him come. It’s a private moment in a way. I used to bury my face in a shoulder, a pillow, not want anyone to see me, because for a moment, they could see all of me, open, spread out...but he won’t let me hide and he doesn’t hide from me. I’ve seen his teeth savage his lip trying not to scream, seen him stop trying and let his face say what his mouth can’t because words don’t exist where he’s gone. It’s...beautiful. I’ve never told him, but I’ve seen that look on people as they’ve died under me. Pain and pleasure; sometimes the reaction to them is too close to call.
But right then, I couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see me and his breathing was settling into a rhythm. Bugger was going to sleep on me. I smiled and picked a spot to tickle. I know every one and I’ve earned that knowledge the hard way. Had him so helpless with laughter, he was crying, the breath squeaking out of him as he writhed. God, I loved doing that to him. He got me back but it was worth it. So now seemed like the perfect time to - Did I mention the mind reading? His voice drifted down, “Don’t.” Mild, sleepy, totally in control.
Fuck. Plan B. Suck him and lick him and make him come so hard he’d change his mind about leaving me up and aching.
Would have worked if he hadn’t been asleep before I’d fought my way out from under the quilt.
Heh. Got carried away remembering. That was a couple of weeks ago and, in case you’re wondering, he paid me back for the blow job, the same way he did for the tickling. With interest.
So now I’m looking at him, his face turned sideways, relaxed so that slight frown’s gone, away from all of it for just a few hours. Away from me, too. Or am I in his dreams the way I am in his life, his house, his body? There’s no god wants my prayers, but if they did, that’s something I’d ask for maybe.
The crypt...can’t believe he went there alone after – can’t believe he took me there, either. Tonight wasn’t the time, but I’m going to get it out of him what happened with those vampires. Giles can fight like a demon and he’s never even heard of rules and, yes, it was daylight but even so...maybe he took Harris? God, now I’m trying not to curse and hit something and wake him up. Fighting beside Giles; that’s for me. Vampires and Watchers aren’t supposed to fuck. No surprises there. But somehow fucking someone you’re supposed to hate is nowhere near as perverse as working with them, on the same side. I love killing things with him. It pisses off everyone but me and him. Yeah, I’m twisted. So? This is news? Didn’t think so.
He’s alive, yes, but I saw a trail of bruises around his arm that means one of them got close enough to lay hands on him and though my fangs are trying to appear just thinking about that, I’m staying calm. I am, I –
“Spike?”
“Uh – yes? Did I wake you?”
He blinked at me and his fist came up to knuckle the sleep out of his eye. Makes him look – heh, I even think ‘sweet’ and he’ll take the skin off my arse. But he does. Really.
“You didn’t wake me. The bed being used as a trampoline did, though. Why are you so restless?”
He didn’t sound annoyed; just curious.
“I was thinking about you going to the crypt today.” I reached out and put my hand where he was bruised, wanting to wipe his skin clean, but Christ, with my hand? It’s done worse than all the vamps he staked today put together.
He looked at me; hard to tell what he was thinking. “I’m fine.”
“You’re _bruised_” It came out in a growl and I felt my face shift. He didn’t even flinch but I didn’t expect him to. “How many, Giles?” So much for waiting to ask.
He looked at me thoughtfully. My voice, the fangs...I was pushing it but he seemed to come to a decision and he answered me in a normal voice. “Three. Just three. They were asleep. I had a cross bow. Not too tricky and I made sure to stay in the light.”
I sighed. “Think they wouldn’t have reached into the light and dragged you deeper in? Christ, Giles!”
He’d had enough. “You don’t get to question me, Spike. I did it because...we both needed to go back there. It needed clearing out.”
“Not alone!”
He lifted his eyebrows. “I didn’t say I was.”
I think I snarled because his face went sharp and his eyes – God, his eyes. I was his blue eyed boy in a split second, fangs tucked away tidily, but it wasn’t going to save me.
“Do you remember what I said I’d do if you ever showed me that face in this house?” ‘This’ house. Not ‘my house’. A scrap of comfort.
“Yes, but –”
“Ah, no. Since you can’t be civil, you don’t get to do more than answer me. Again. Do you remember?”
Teeth were gritted and I forced myself to relax. This had to sound just right or he’d have me saying it over and over until it suited him. Which meant until he got bored of hearing me say –
“Yes, Giles.”
“Good.” He paused, chuckled softly, as though he was really amused and patted my cheek. No, not that one. “Good night, Spike.”
He turned away, settled himself down and was asleep in minutes. I glared at his back and sulked myself to sleep. And wondered if he had gone with Xander.
He woke up before me because when my eyes opened he was looking down at me, propped up on an elbow. He smiled slowly and for a moment I forgot. Carried on forgetting when he slid his arm under my neck and brought me to him for a kiss, gentle and warm - until I reached for him, wanting to feel him heavy in my hand, and he broke the kiss.
“Oh, fuck.”
“Not until later,” he said, his lips twitching.
So I'm leaving it alone until I can do it right, espcially as I've got two challenge fics to do and a Spike/Giles/Wes WIP too. And there's a non fic piece. And the Hallowe'en one. Oh, God. Mind melt.
I've also got masses of posts to answer but I have to go and get some sleep. I'm not thinking straight so don't think I'm ignoring you if you sent me feedback or a reply ::hugs::
Here's one draft version of a possible chapter three of Behind Closed Doors anyway because I promised more and I hate not delivering. Sorry :-(
I lay next to Giles, watching him sleep. Do that a lot. I’ve been here with him for a month maybe and there’s no way I can get used to being awake in the day that fast. Night is for killing, feeding, playing...sleeping through most of it is hard. He doesn’t ask me to, mind, but if one of us is going to change the habits of a lifetime, I’m not putting money on it being him.
We got back from my crypt and went straight to bed. He held me, the way he does when he’s happy, arms so strong. Call it a cuddle though and he’d give you an icy stare. Heh. Now he’s asleep I’ve pulled away a little, giving him some space. He’s used to this bed being his, likes to sprawl out across it. When he does and I’m in the way, he wakes up enough to sigh, just softly, and he either curls up to make room for me or growls and grabs me, pulling me under him, rocking against me until we’re both hard. He did that once, biting my ear and my neck the whole time and then rolled away, telling me to stay hard until he woke up. “What about you?” I hissed, sneaking a look at the clock. Christ; I’d got four hours to wait...
He chuckled, sounding sleepy and smug. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Spike.” He rolled back, put his hand on the back of my neck – and if anything makes me want to whimper, it’s that – and shoved me down, under the covers. He didn’t say anything else then. Well; didn’t need instructions with his cock inches away, slicked up with what we’d been doing before he decided sleeping was so fucking vital. I licked it clean, tasting myself on it, loving the way the scents were mixed and strong. It was dark and the covers were over me so I couldn’t see him. That felt odd. I love watching him come. It’s a private moment in a way. I used to bury my face in a shoulder, a pillow, not want anyone to see me, because for a moment, they could see all of me, open, spread out...but he won’t let me hide and he doesn’t hide from me. I’ve seen his teeth savage his lip trying not to scream, seen him stop trying and let his face say what his mouth can’t because words don’t exist where he’s gone. It’s...beautiful. I’ve never told him, but I’ve seen that look on people as they’ve died under me. Pain and pleasure; sometimes the reaction to them is too close to call.
But right then, I couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see me and his breathing was settling into a rhythm. Bugger was going to sleep on me. I smiled and picked a spot to tickle. I know every one and I’ve earned that knowledge the hard way. Had him so helpless with laughter, he was crying, the breath squeaking out of him as he writhed. God, I loved doing that to him. He got me back but it was worth it. So now seemed like the perfect time to - Did I mention the mind reading? His voice drifted down, “Don’t.” Mild, sleepy, totally in control.
Fuck. Plan B. Suck him and lick him and make him come so hard he’d change his mind about leaving me up and aching.
Would have worked if he hadn’t been asleep before I’d fought my way out from under the quilt.
Heh. Got carried away remembering. That was a couple of weeks ago and, in case you’re wondering, he paid me back for the blow job, the same way he did for the tickling. With interest.
So now I’m looking at him, his face turned sideways, relaxed so that slight frown’s gone, away from all of it for just a few hours. Away from me, too. Or am I in his dreams the way I am in his life, his house, his body? There’s no god wants my prayers, but if they did, that’s something I’d ask for maybe.
The crypt...can’t believe he went there alone after – can’t believe he took me there, either. Tonight wasn’t the time, but I’m going to get it out of him what happened with those vampires. Giles can fight like a demon and he’s never even heard of rules and, yes, it was daylight but even so...maybe he took Harris? God, now I’m trying not to curse and hit something and wake him up. Fighting beside Giles; that’s for me. Vampires and Watchers aren’t supposed to fuck. No surprises there. But somehow fucking someone you’re supposed to hate is nowhere near as perverse as working with them, on the same side. I love killing things with him. It pisses off everyone but me and him. Yeah, I’m twisted. So? This is news? Didn’t think so.
He’s alive, yes, but I saw a trail of bruises around his arm that means one of them got close enough to lay hands on him and though my fangs are trying to appear just thinking about that, I’m staying calm. I am, I –
“Spike?”
“Uh – yes? Did I wake you?”
He blinked at me and his fist came up to knuckle the sleep out of his eye. Makes him look – heh, I even think ‘sweet’ and he’ll take the skin off my arse. But he does. Really.
“You didn’t wake me. The bed being used as a trampoline did, though. Why are you so restless?”
He didn’t sound annoyed; just curious.
“I was thinking about you going to the crypt today.” I reached out and put my hand where he was bruised, wanting to wipe his skin clean, but Christ, with my hand? It’s done worse than all the vamps he staked today put together.
He looked at me; hard to tell what he was thinking. “I’m fine.”
“You’re _bruised_” It came out in a growl and I felt my face shift. He didn’t even flinch but I didn’t expect him to. “How many, Giles?” So much for waiting to ask.
He looked at me thoughtfully. My voice, the fangs...I was pushing it but he seemed to come to a decision and he answered me in a normal voice. “Three. Just three. They were asleep. I had a cross bow. Not too tricky and I made sure to stay in the light.”
I sighed. “Think they wouldn’t have reached into the light and dragged you deeper in? Christ, Giles!”
He’d had enough. “You don’t get to question me, Spike. I did it because...we both needed to go back there. It needed clearing out.”
“Not alone!”
He lifted his eyebrows. “I didn’t say I was.”
I think I snarled because his face went sharp and his eyes – God, his eyes. I was his blue eyed boy in a split second, fangs tucked away tidily, but it wasn’t going to save me.
“Do you remember what I said I’d do if you ever showed me that face in this house?” ‘This’ house. Not ‘my house’. A scrap of comfort.
“Yes, but –”
“Ah, no. Since you can’t be civil, you don’t get to do more than answer me. Again. Do you remember?”
Teeth were gritted and I forced myself to relax. This had to sound just right or he’d have me saying it over and over until it suited him. Which meant until he got bored of hearing me say –
“Yes, Giles.”
“Good.” He paused, chuckled softly, as though he was really amused and patted my cheek. No, not that one. “Good night, Spike.”
He turned away, settled himself down and was asleep in minutes. I glared at his back and sulked myself to sleep. And wondered if he had gone with Xander.
He woke up before me because when my eyes opened he was looking down at me, propped up on an elbow. He smiled slowly and for a moment I forgot. Carried on forgetting when he slid his arm under my neck and brought me to him for a kiss, gentle and warm - until I reached for him, wanting to feel him heavy in my hand, and he broke the kiss.
“Oh, fuck.”
“Not until later,” he said, his lips twitching.