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I posted this second chapter late last night as I was in that kind of a mood and said LJ would eat it as it was being so awful. Woke up to find no comments and went into a swither.
Either
a. Two chapters in a few hours had you all bored. Overdose of Giles/Spike smut (surely not?!)
b. I'd gone too far with the Xander bashing.
c. It was too dark.
d. It was crap.
e. LJ ate it.
I'm sure some of a to d apply but as it doesn't seem to have shown up I'm reposting it (I'd link to it but it might not be there to link to; I can see it but I'm not sure if that means anything).
http://members.rogers.com/jdavitt01/BehindPro.html
There are rules but they’re not spoken. Inside the house, when we’re alone, it’s him in charge, in charge of me and that’s so simple. Most of the time. It’s getting easier to obey, to be perfect and yet sometimes it builds up until all I want to do is grab and bend and break everything he says, every request that’s really an order, squeeze through every loophole, no matter how small. He lets me too, lets me wriggle until I’m stuck tight and hey, look at that, I’m arse up and ready. Well, there’s a surprise.
Outside the house, or if there’s company, rules change. They have to. Even now he’s told them. Simpler that way. I can pretend and he’s even better at it than I am.
Still doesn’t mean he can always keep from playing though, which means I’m never quite sure when places become home away from homes and he likes that. Wouldn’t peg him as a risk taker? He’s served customers when I’ve been in the loft, behind a screen, bent over a chair, jeans around my knees and waiting for him to come back and finish applying his hand to where I keep my brains. According to him.
We were on our own in the shop one day. Anya was off at the supplier; middle of the day so the girls were at school, college, whatever, and Harris was flexing his manly muscles building things that would probably fall down before the paint had time to peel off. I was feeling bored and Giles was irritable. Never a good combination. I knew what the matter was but I wasn’t sure how to fix it. If we’d been at home I’d have had a dozen ways to solve both problems but here I knew better than to try unless he started it. Off limits. Go sit in the corner, Spike. Don’t touch. Didn’t even mean my cock or his; nothing interesting; just some tacky statuettes of the goddess Xinra. Ten a penny and you’d think they were –
“A new consignment that I’ve been waiting for for weeks and you’ve broken half of them you clumsy idiot!”
Testy. I went for the pout and the upward glance. I look cute like that. Not like I can practice in front of a mirror but I can see the effect it has. Giles glared at me and pointed towards the store room. “Get in there and get out of my sight.”
He was definitely losing it today. Dreaded to think what tonight would be like if this kept up. Fucking nightmare. The storeroom was dark; a jumble of stuff on shelves, a table in the centre of the room. I sighed, perched on the table and waited for Giles to come to his senses. The bell went over the shop door some time later and I heard Giles start the old chit chat. Some of the customers start getting all silly when they hear his voice. You’d think they’d never heard anyone speak English before. Though come to think of it, this _is_ California... Heard some old biddy ask for something obscure and Giles assure her he could put his hand right on it if she just gave him a moment. Did I mention I was bored? I’d been in that room for thirty fucking minutes and I was leaning back against the table, hand down my trousers, entertaining myself quite nicely. Figured if Giles caught me at least he’d snap out of his bloody awful mood and into a temper instead. Do him good.
I’m so thoughtful sometimes.
Have to admit, I wasn’t planning on him having customers when he found me though. He came in, took one look at me and froze, his face indignant and cross. I was still a long way off coming but I closed my eyes and moaned just a little, running my hand slowly up and down my cock so he could get a good view. Heard his breath hiss out and knew he’d never believe I didn’t know he was there, so I opened my eyes and smiled at him, keeping my hand busy.
“Spike. Stop that.”
I let go at once, pushed my jeans down and turned around, leaning over the table. Subtle works sometimes but it’s not exactly my style. Couldn’t spread my legs much but I did the best I could and threw in a wiggle as I got settled. I heard him walk up to me, past me, and the clink of bottles as he reached for what she wanted. I folded my arms in front of me and rested my chin on them. Watched him ignore me and watched his cock get hard enough that he really wasn’t going to be able to hide it.
“She’s going to think you’re really happy to make a sale if you go out like that,” I said.
I thought he’d keep on ignoring me and really, I hadn’t said anything much, but he snapped. Thank fuck for that. Apathetic misery? Huh. He was just sulking. Needed a bloody time out or whatever they call locking kids in closets with the black beetles nowadays. Sulking just because –
“And whose fault is that, Spike?” He slammed his hand down besides my face and I winced.
“Mine?” Figured I’d skip to the good part.
“For once in your overly long life, you’re perfectly correct. Well...your fault, you fix it.”
“Quite willing to do just that,” I assured him, turning my head to beam up at him.
From the shop I heard the high pitched twittering of a woman who’s gagging for her eye of newt. Giles raised his voice and called out something reassuring at just about the same time as he put one hand in the small of my back, pressing me down against the table. The other hand wasn’t idle and I suppose I’m lucky he even took the time to slick up because he was in me before he’d finished telling her he’d seen them only yesterday, honestly and why didn’t she browse around the scented candles while she waited.
He put his hands on my hips, jerking them back so that my cock wasn’t touching anything. I knew why he was doing it but I was glad; table was full of splinters. He was breathing hard, slamming into me without taking any time to ease in gently, hurting me and not even caring that he wasn’t doing it on purpose. Did I mind? Well, yeah. This still wasn’t Giles, still wasn’t what we needed. I said his name, trying to be quiet, and got a hand slapped across my mouth. I started to struggle, trying to push him away and felt his fingernails bite in deeply into my side.
The woman called out again, getting impatient, her voice a querulous whine that made my teeth ache. Or maybe that was the clenching them hard enough to splinter enamel. Was not going to beg Giles to stop. Wasn’t.
Until I did, a frantic whimper that barely made it out of my mouth and past his hand. Not because he was hurting me either. That was nothing. I wasn’t even bleeding but he wasn’t going to be happy about this later and the sooner it stopped the better. I can play the victim if I need to. I tell you, I wasn’t fucking bothered about it. Not because of me. Just him.
He was deep in me and he went very still then I felt his hands drop away from me and he stepped back, pulling out of me. I turned and watched him fasten his trousers, tucking his shirt in without looking at me. He grabbed the jar, went out there, served her and then locked the door. Anya was going to give him hell about closing the shop early if she came back.
I waited until I was sure he wasn’t going to come in and then eased off the table. I didn’t bother with the zipper, just pulled my jeans up and went after him. He was in the loft, sitting in the chair he put there, surrounded by the scary books.
“No, Spike. Not now.”
I wasn’t expecting an apology. Just as well really.
“This is stupid, Giles. What they think doesn’t matter. They’re fucking stupid if –”
His fist was as welcome as a kiss and he put it in the same place. Felt my lip crack and took three punches before he broke and fell to his knees. When I held him, he didn’t push me away. I’d have let him break bones if it got me this. I wasn’t complaining.
“I can’t – can’t do this, Spike.” He sounded lost. I’d heard him sound like this before. Not something I was likely to forget, now was it?
“You’ve got to, Giles.” I stopped, hating myself and then said what needed to be said. “You going to break this promise too?”
His head jerked up. No tears, eyes glazed with self reproach. “Please, Spike...”
Not expecting this but I wasn’t going to crack, even though hearing him like that, imploring, pleading, was enough to make me shake with the wrongness.
I bent my head and kissed him, soft as I could, working at it until I felt the tension go, felt him relax against me. My hand went to his cock, hidden behind too many clothes, and I fumbled with the zip, got it out, started to stroke it hard. Didn’t take long, and he was moaning as he kissed me, lying across my legs, his hands grabbing onto me as his hips jerked.
“In me, Giles. You’re going to come in me...”
He shook his head but I pushed him back, my mouth on his again, swallowing his protests and reaching back to hold his cock. Slipped it inside me, welcoming the burning rasp, and I felt the change as soon as I was around him. He held me, began to move, began to make me move, taking us both somewhere we didn’t need to talk. After a while he put me beneath him and finished like that, his head against my neck, his eyes leaking tears.
Harris is so fucking dead. Really.
We’d been so lost in it all, see. Almost forgotten them. Guess it was payback time for the shock they got the other night. Giles got invited around; special dinner, their six month anniversary of swapping spit or something. I don’t know and I could care less. Something. So I tagged along. I mean; Harris mentioned it when I was there, said they wanted the whole gang over...I was even carrying the fucking gift.
Wouldn’t let me in. Looked at Giles who’d already stepped over the fucking threshold, smiled at me. Cold eyes, he’s got that one. Said something about standards. Giles’ face...shock, hurt...then Harris pushed it that little bit too far. Giles would probably have bought the whole not inviting me in, who knew when I’d turn, can’t risk the woman I love bit. Why not? Ignoring it cost him his girl after all...but then Harris had to get smart, had to mouth off, had to say something so crude that even Dawn got it, and as soon as she gasped, her eyes all wide, Giles cracked. Pushed past me and went.
I wanted to kill Harris. Really wanted to. I could imagine it and the smell of his spilled blood was so thick in the air my mouth watered. Then I heard Giles throwing up outside and I held out the present, let it drop just as his hand reached out for it automatically – crystal glasses, set of four, Giles always did have good taste - and grabbed his hand. Such a careless boy. Oldest trick in the book that one. Couldn’t hurt him and didn’t want to take the time, not with Giles throwing up yesterday’s breakfast by the sound of it. So I ran my hand down his cheek and kissed it gently.
“Night, Judas.”
Lost on him probably. Hope he spent the night scrubbing it raw before crawling in next to his pet demon.
Got Giles home, put him to bed, lay by him as he carefully pretended we’d had a delightful evening, got his back when I tried to hold him, got nothing but empty, averted eyes in the morning and an endless, nervous babble from Anya at the shop that mercifully ended when she left on her errand.
We were still all tangled up and Giles still hadn’t said anything. I eased him off me and he rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.
“Giles?”
He whispered it but he might as well have screamed. “What have I done?”
“What you had to.”
He looked at me. “They’re...family.”
“And what am I?”
He stared at me. Buggered if I knew, either.
Either
a. Two chapters in a few hours had you all bored. Overdose of Giles/Spike smut (surely not?!)
b. I'd gone too far with the Xander bashing.
c. It was too dark.
d. It was crap.
e. LJ ate it.
I'm sure some of a to d apply but as it doesn't seem to have shown up I'm reposting it (I'd link to it but it might not be there to link to; I can see it but I'm not sure if that means anything).
http://members.rogers.com/jdavitt01/BehindPro.html
There are rules but they’re not spoken. Inside the house, when we’re alone, it’s him in charge, in charge of me and that’s so simple. Most of the time. It’s getting easier to obey, to be perfect and yet sometimes it builds up until all I want to do is grab and bend and break everything he says, every request that’s really an order, squeeze through every loophole, no matter how small. He lets me too, lets me wriggle until I’m stuck tight and hey, look at that, I’m arse up and ready. Well, there’s a surprise.
Outside the house, or if there’s company, rules change. They have to. Even now he’s told them. Simpler that way. I can pretend and he’s even better at it than I am.
Still doesn’t mean he can always keep from playing though, which means I’m never quite sure when places become home away from homes and he likes that. Wouldn’t peg him as a risk taker? He’s served customers when I’ve been in the loft, behind a screen, bent over a chair, jeans around my knees and waiting for him to come back and finish applying his hand to where I keep my brains. According to him.
We were on our own in the shop one day. Anya was off at the supplier; middle of the day so the girls were at school, college, whatever, and Harris was flexing his manly muscles building things that would probably fall down before the paint had time to peel off. I was feeling bored and Giles was irritable. Never a good combination. I knew what the matter was but I wasn’t sure how to fix it. If we’d been at home I’d have had a dozen ways to solve both problems but here I knew better than to try unless he started it. Off limits. Go sit in the corner, Spike. Don’t touch. Didn’t even mean my cock or his; nothing interesting; just some tacky statuettes of the goddess Xinra. Ten a penny and you’d think they were –
“A new consignment that I’ve been waiting for for weeks and you’ve broken half of them you clumsy idiot!”
Testy. I went for the pout and the upward glance. I look cute like that. Not like I can practice in front of a mirror but I can see the effect it has. Giles glared at me and pointed towards the store room. “Get in there and get out of my sight.”
He was definitely losing it today. Dreaded to think what tonight would be like if this kept up. Fucking nightmare. The storeroom was dark; a jumble of stuff on shelves, a table in the centre of the room. I sighed, perched on the table and waited for Giles to come to his senses. The bell went over the shop door some time later and I heard Giles start the old chit chat. Some of the customers start getting all silly when they hear his voice. You’d think they’d never heard anyone speak English before. Though come to think of it, this _is_ California... Heard some old biddy ask for something obscure and Giles assure her he could put his hand right on it if she just gave him a moment. Did I mention I was bored? I’d been in that room for thirty fucking minutes and I was leaning back against the table, hand down my trousers, entertaining myself quite nicely. Figured if Giles caught me at least he’d snap out of his bloody awful mood and into a temper instead. Do him good.
I’m so thoughtful sometimes.
Have to admit, I wasn’t planning on him having customers when he found me though. He came in, took one look at me and froze, his face indignant and cross. I was still a long way off coming but I closed my eyes and moaned just a little, running my hand slowly up and down my cock so he could get a good view. Heard his breath hiss out and knew he’d never believe I didn’t know he was there, so I opened my eyes and smiled at him, keeping my hand busy.
“Spike. Stop that.”
I let go at once, pushed my jeans down and turned around, leaning over the table. Subtle works sometimes but it’s not exactly my style. Couldn’t spread my legs much but I did the best I could and threw in a wiggle as I got settled. I heard him walk up to me, past me, and the clink of bottles as he reached for what she wanted. I folded my arms in front of me and rested my chin on them. Watched him ignore me and watched his cock get hard enough that he really wasn’t going to be able to hide it.
“She’s going to think you’re really happy to make a sale if you go out like that,” I said.
I thought he’d keep on ignoring me and really, I hadn’t said anything much, but he snapped. Thank fuck for that. Apathetic misery? Huh. He was just sulking. Needed a bloody time out or whatever they call locking kids in closets with the black beetles nowadays. Sulking just because –
“And whose fault is that, Spike?” He slammed his hand down besides my face and I winced.
“Mine?” Figured I’d skip to the good part.
“For once in your overly long life, you’re perfectly correct. Well...your fault, you fix it.”
“Quite willing to do just that,” I assured him, turning my head to beam up at him.
From the shop I heard the high pitched twittering of a woman who’s gagging for her eye of newt. Giles raised his voice and called out something reassuring at just about the same time as he put one hand in the small of my back, pressing me down against the table. The other hand wasn’t idle and I suppose I’m lucky he even took the time to slick up because he was in me before he’d finished telling her he’d seen them only yesterday, honestly and why didn’t she browse around the scented candles while she waited.
He put his hands on my hips, jerking them back so that my cock wasn’t touching anything. I knew why he was doing it but I was glad; table was full of splinters. He was breathing hard, slamming into me without taking any time to ease in gently, hurting me and not even caring that he wasn’t doing it on purpose. Did I mind? Well, yeah. This still wasn’t Giles, still wasn’t what we needed. I said his name, trying to be quiet, and got a hand slapped across my mouth. I started to struggle, trying to push him away and felt his fingernails bite in deeply into my side.
The woman called out again, getting impatient, her voice a querulous whine that made my teeth ache. Or maybe that was the clenching them hard enough to splinter enamel. Was not going to beg Giles to stop. Wasn’t.
Until I did, a frantic whimper that barely made it out of my mouth and past his hand. Not because he was hurting me either. That was nothing. I wasn’t even bleeding but he wasn’t going to be happy about this later and the sooner it stopped the better. I can play the victim if I need to. I tell you, I wasn’t fucking bothered about it. Not because of me. Just him.
He was deep in me and he went very still then I felt his hands drop away from me and he stepped back, pulling out of me. I turned and watched him fasten his trousers, tucking his shirt in without looking at me. He grabbed the jar, went out there, served her and then locked the door. Anya was going to give him hell about closing the shop early if she came back.
I waited until I was sure he wasn’t going to come in and then eased off the table. I didn’t bother with the zipper, just pulled my jeans up and went after him. He was in the loft, sitting in the chair he put there, surrounded by the scary books.
“No, Spike. Not now.”
I wasn’t expecting an apology. Just as well really.
“This is stupid, Giles. What they think doesn’t matter. They’re fucking stupid if –”
His fist was as welcome as a kiss and he put it in the same place. Felt my lip crack and took three punches before he broke and fell to his knees. When I held him, he didn’t push me away. I’d have let him break bones if it got me this. I wasn’t complaining.
“I can’t – can’t do this, Spike.” He sounded lost. I’d heard him sound like this before. Not something I was likely to forget, now was it?
“You’ve got to, Giles.” I stopped, hating myself and then said what needed to be said. “You going to break this promise too?”
His head jerked up. No tears, eyes glazed with self reproach. “Please, Spike...”
Not expecting this but I wasn’t going to crack, even though hearing him like that, imploring, pleading, was enough to make me shake with the wrongness.
I bent my head and kissed him, soft as I could, working at it until I felt the tension go, felt him relax against me. My hand went to his cock, hidden behind too many clothes, and I fumbled with the zip, got it out, started to stroke it hard. Didn’t take long, and he was moaning as he kissed me, lying across my legs, his hands grabbing onto me as his hips jerked.
“In me, Giles. You’re going to come in me...”
He shook his head but I pushed him back, my mouth on his again, swallowing his protests and reaching back to hold his cock. Slipped it inside me, welcoming the burning rasp, and I felt the change as soon as I was around him. He held me, began to move, began to make me move, taking us both somewhere we didn’t need to talk. After a while he put me beneath him and finished like that, his head against my neck, his eyes leaking tears.
Harris is so fucking dead. Really.
We’d been so lost in it all, see. Almost forgotten them. Guess it was payback time for the shock they got the other night. Giles got invited around; special dinner, their six month anniversary of swapping spit or something. I don’t know and I could care less. Something. So I tagged along. I mean; Harris mentioned it when I was there, said they wanted the whole gang over...I was even carrying the fucking gift.
Wouldn’t let me in. Looked at Giles who’d already stepped over the fucking threshold, smiled at me. Cold eyes, he’s got that one. Said something about standards. Giles’ face...shock, hurt...then Harris pushed it that little bit too far. Giles would probably have bought the whole not inviting me in, who knew when I’d turn, can’t risk the woman I love bit. Why not? Ignoring it cost him his girl after all...but then Harris had to get smart, had to mouth off, had to say something so crude that even Dawn got it, and as soon as she gasped, her eyes all wide, Giles cracked. Pushed past me and went.
I wanted to kill Harris. Really wanted to. I could imagine it and the smell of his spilled blood was so thick in the air my mouth watered. Then I heard Giles throwing up outside and I held out the present, let it drop just as his hand reached out for it automatically – crystal glasses, set of four, Giles always did have good taste - and grabbed his hand. Such a careless boy. Oldest trick in the book that one. Couldn’t hurt him and didn’t want to take the time, not with Giles throwing up yesterday’s breakfast by the sound of it. So I ran my hand down his cheek and kissed it gently.
“Night, Judas.”
Lost on him probably. Hope he spent the night scrubbing it raw before crawling in next to his pet demon.
Got Giles home, put him to bed, lay by him as he carefully pretended we’d had a delightful evening, got his back when I tried to hold him, got nothing but empty, averted eyes in the morning and an endless, nervous babble from Anya at the shop that mercifully ended when she left on her errand.
We were still all tangled up and Giles still hadn’t said anything. I eased him off me and he rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.
“Giles?”
He whispered it but he might as well have screamed. “What have I done?”
“What you had to.”
He looked at me. “They’re...family.”
“And what am I?”
He stared at me. Buggered if I knew, either.