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summer_of_giles2012-07-21 09:49 pm
peet4paint.livejournal.com) wrote in summer_of_giles2012-07-21 09:49 pm
Entry tags:
fic: (just a few harmless) fantasies, (Giles/Xander), FRAO
Title: (just a few harmless) fantasies
Pairing: Giles/Xander
Rating: FRAO, NC-17
Length: ~800 words
Setting: Near the end of season three
A/N: unbeta'd. Again, some warnings. Some BDSM, Xander is not underage, but he's not graduated either, so Student/Librarian. (I feel like I should apologize in advance to everyone who reads this. So. Sorry.)
*
The suit is gray today. Xander owes himself a quarter.
Of course, the suit is always gray. And a little lumpy. And sort of slouchy looking.
Giles looks up from his book.
Xander looks down at his own.
Not that Giles would catch him. Looking. Not that Giles would think it was anything other than boredom.
Or stupidity.
Or something.
But maybe he would. Maybe he would look up and catch Xander staring at him and say, “Like what you see,” all sexy like in those Skinemax movies he and Jesse used to watch. Only Giles would never do that. No, he’d say, “Like what you see,” all snarky and mean like he acted around that Ethan guy.
Only Giles would never do that either.
No, he’d say, “Do you really think I’m foolish enough to—“ and here Xander fills in with blankety-blank-blank-British-blank. Because yeah, he might think about it. He might think about this. Not that he’s admitting that to anyone. Even himself, most days. But he’s not far enough gone yet to memorize Giles’ yelling at him.
(Okay, he has that one speech memorized, but that’d been the one where he kept saying ‘sex.’ Not exactly easy to forget. Geez, Giles is hot in a sweater-vest.)
So, Giles would talk for a while about how he would never get involved with someone like Xander. And then he’d tell Xander that he wanted Xander to apologize.
And this is the part where it splits in different directions.
Sometimes Xander ‘apologizes’ on his knees, Giles hand fisted in his hair. Oh yeah, Xander ‘apologizes’ hard.
Sometimes Xander looks into Giles’ eyes and says, “I am so sorry. It will never happen again.” And Giles looks at him, just so, and sort of folds into himself and says, “It’s not that I— Well you’re so young. Too young. Far too young for this. If we waited. If you could wait, until you’ve graduated.”
And Xander says, “It’ll be hard, but yeah. Yeah.” And then he somehow convinces Giles to give him just one kiss. Which sometimes turns into just one make out session in Giles’ office.
Or the cage.
Or the stacks.
Xander isn’t picky.
And then there are the times—and these are the times Xander really doesn’t admit, even to himself—there are the times when Xander sort of smirks at Giles—like evil!Angel or something—smirks and says, “Sorry,” in this way that totally means he’s not sorry at all. Where ‘sorry’ actually means, ‘eff you.’
And Giles goes into his office and grabs his ruler (or his pointer, or his pool cue—again, Xander isn’t picky) and walks up to Xander and just—
Yeah, he can’t really think the words. All he can think are feelings. Pain and blood and heat and the fact that Giles wouldn’t stop, would just keep going until Xander really meant it. Until Xander was able to say sorry and mean it.
Sometimes, afterwards, Giles walks away. He leaves the building. Leaves town. Leaves the country. Because Xander is such a disappointment.
But sometimes, the best times, he stays. Sometimes, afterwards he takes a bunch of wet paper towels and rubs Xander’s knuckles(/back/butt) down, until he’s no longer aching, until the bloods settled down. And he says, “Have you learned your lesson?” And Xander says, “Yes.” And Giles says, “Yes, what?”
And Xander says, “Sir. Yes, sir.”
And Giles says, “Good. Good boy. That’s my good boy.”
Xander suddenly realizes he’s looking at Giles again.
Giles doesn’t notice. Of course he doesn’t notice. Only, he’s standing up, walking over to Xander.
Suddenly his handkerchief is out and it’s like—
It’s like that one about when Xander and Giles are stuck in a cave with no way out and there’s gas seeping in and they’re about to die and Xander says, “I don’t want to die a virgin.” And Giles says, “You’re not a virgin, you’ve had sex with Faith.” (Because even in his mind, Giles always has to have the answer for everything.) And Xander says, “I don’t want to die a virgin to gay sex.” And Giles says, “Oh, shall I masturbate you then?” and pulls out his handkerchief and jacks Xander into it until he comes.
Xander looks around to see if he’s secretly teleported to the killer cave. (It could happen. It’s Sunnydale.) But no, he’s still in the library. With Giles. And Giles’ handkerchief. Which is—
Wiping Xander’s chin.
Xander (mostly) bites back his groan. Because, hello, how had he never thought of that. He’s totally adding that to the ending of the blow job fantasy.
“Sorry,” Giles says, wiping once more for good measure. “You were drooling.”
Xander’s groan is for a totally different reason this time. He buries his head in his hands. “Just kill me now.”
“Oh come now,” Giles says. “It’s not as bad as all that.” Giles pats his back in solace. “And if I killed you now, I’d never get a chance to plow that tight arse of yours.”
Xander’s head jerks up, “Huh?”
Giles smiles down at him benignly. “What?”
*
Pairing: Giles/Xander
Rating: FRAO, NC-17
Length: ~800 words
Setting: Near the end of season three
A/N: unbeta'd. Again, some warnings. Some BDSM, Xander is not underage, but he's not graduated either, so Student/Librarian. (I feel like I should apologize in advance to everyone who reads this. So. Sorry.)
*
The suit is gray today. Xander owes himself a quarter.
Of course, the suit is always gray. And a little lumpy. And sort of slouchy looking.
Giles looks up from his book.
Xander looks down at his own.
Not that Giles would catch him. Looking. Not that Giles would think it was anything other than boredom.
Or stupidity.
Or something.
But maybe he would. Maybe he would look up and catch Xander staring at him and say, “Like what you see,” all sexy like in those Skinemax movies he and Jesse used to watch. Only Giles would never do that. No, he’d say, “Like what you see,” all snarky and mean like he acted around that Ethan guy.
Only Giles would never do that either.
No, he’d say, “Do you really think I’m foolish enough to—“ and here Xander fills in with blankety-blank-blank-British-blank. Because yeah, he might think about it. He might think about this. Not that he’s admitting that to anyone. Even himself, most days. But he’s not far enough gone yet to memorize Giles’ yelling at him.
(Okay, he has that one speech memorized, but that’d been the one where he kept saying ‘sex.’ Not exactly easy to forget. Geez, Giles is hot in a sweater-vest.)
So, Giles would talk for a while about how he would never get involved with someone like Xander. And then he’d tell Xander that he wanted Xander to apologize.
And this is the part where it splits in different directions.
Sometimes Xander ‘apologizes’ on his knees, Giles hand fisted in his hair. Oh yeah, Xander ‘apologizes’ hard.
Sometimes Xander looks into Giles’ eyes and says, “I am so sorry. It will never happen again.” And Giles looks at him, just so, and sort of folds into himself and says, “It’s not that I— Well you’re so young. Too young. Far too young for this. If we waited. If you could wait, until you’ve graduated.”
And Xander says, “It’ll be hard, but yeah. Yeah.” And then he somehow convinces Giles to give him just one kiss. Which sometimes turns into just one make out session in Giles’ office.
Or the cage.
Or the stacks.
Xander isn’t picky.
And then there are the times—and these are the times Xander really doesn’t admit, even to himself—there are the times when Xander sort of smirks at Giles—like evil!Angel or something—smirks and says, “Sorry,” in this way that totally means he’s not sorry at all. Where ‘sorry’ actually means, ‘eff you.’
And Giles goes into his office and grabs his ruler (or his pointer, or his pool cue—again, Xander isn’t picky) and walks up to Xander and just—
Yeah, he can’t really think the words. All he can think are feelings. Pain and blood and heat and the fact that Giles wouldn’t stop, would just keep going until Xander really meant it. Until Xander was able to say sorry and mean it.
Sometimes, afterwards, Giles walks away. He leaves the building. Leaves town. Leaves the country. Because Xander is such a disappointment.
But sometimes, the best times, he stays. Sometimes, afterwards he takes a bunch of wet paper towels and rubs Xander’s knuckles(/back/butt) down, until he’s no longer aching, until the bloods settled down. And he says, “Have you learned your lesson?” And Xander says, “Yes.” And Giles says, “Yes, what?”
And Xander says, “Sir. Yes, sir.”
And Giles says, “Good. Good boy. That’s my good boy.”
Xander suddenly realizes he’s looking at Giles again.
Giles doesn’t notice. Of course he doesn’t notice. Only, he’s standing up, walking over to Xander.
Suddenly his handkerchief is out and it’s like—
It’s like that one about when Xander and Giles are stuck in a cave with no way out and there’s gas seeping in and they’re about to die and Xander says, “I don’t want to die a virgin.” And Giles says, “You’re not a virgin, you’ve had sex with Faith.” (Because even in his mind, Giles always has to have the answer for everything.) And Xander says, “I don’t want to die a virgin to gay sex.” And Giles says, “Oh, shall I masturbate you then?” and pulls out his handkerchief and jacks Xander into it until he comes.
Xander looks around to see if he’s secretly teleported to the killer cave. (It could happen. It’s Sunnydale.) But no, he’s still in the library. With Giles. And Giles’ handkerchief. Which is—
Wiping Xander’s chin.
Xander (mostly) bites back his groan. Because, hello, how had he never thought of that. He’s totally adding that to the ending of the blow job fantasy.
“Sorry,” Giles says, wiping once more for good measure. “You were drooling.”
Xander’s groan is for a totally different reason this time. He buries his head in his hands. “Just kill me now.”
“Oh come now,” Giles says. “It’s not as bad as all that.” Giles pats his back in solace. “And if I killed you now, I’d never get a chance to plow that tight arse of yours.”
Xander’s head jerks up, “Huh?”
Giles smiles down at him benignly. “What?”
*
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Yes, Giles, hope you've got a lot of drool wipes on you, because there's a lot of us out here needing them!
I love how you have Xander's mind integrate what was currently happening in reality into the flow of his fantasy.
I totally adored this, and I loved how you left it ambiguous at the end. Did he or didn't he?!
Such a treat - thanks for sharing!
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Oh good Lord, the teenage mind isn't quite like anything else, is it?
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I'm going to be picky now - 'plow or plough'? What with him being British would he spell it the Brit way?
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Nicely done!
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*drools*