Giles was viewing the world in flashes, snippets of sight, sound, and touch. If he tried to concentrate on everything that he was experiencing at once, he would get overwhelmed, drawn in, which he absolutely could not allow. So he focused instead on little segments of time and space.

Pale hands grasping at the iron supports of the headboard. The clatter of metal against metal as the handcuffs strained against the bar around which they were wrapped. The sharp intake of breath when a nipple was pinched. The feel of a tight, slick passage clenching around his cock. The pleas that poured through bitten lips when he angled his thrusts just so. The shiny leather of a cock ring at the base of Spike's untouched erection.

"Do you want to come now, Spike?" Giles asked, rocking steadily into the tense body beneath him.

"God, yes," Spike said, arching up to meet each thrust.

"I can see how ready you are." Giles trailed his hand down Spike's quivering abdomen and dipped the tip of his forefinger into his navel. "I'd just have to release the ring, wouldn't I? No need for my hand around you, or my lips around you. I could just fuck you, and you'd come."

Spike writhed against his restraints and impaled himself further on Giles' cock.

"Fuck, Giles. Please. Want your hand. Want more. Anything. Please."

Hearing that beloved voice beg so prettily was almost too much, and Giles gripped Spike's hips to keep him still. Buried deep inside, he took a series of unsteady breaths until he was sure that he could control himself.

"You want to come, Spike?"

"Yes. Please. I want to come. Want to come with you." Spike's eyes were closed, his entire body trembling with need.

"You know what you need to do, then."

Blue eyes flashed open, showing desire mixed with determination and despair.

"I can't. You know I can't."

Giles reached up and pushed his finger into Spike's mouth. The feel of that greedy sucking went straight to his gut, and his hips twitched forward once, twice. Spike moaned as Giles removed his finger, and moaned again as it skittered along the underside of his cock.

"Just one simple sentence, Spike. That's all it takes."

He twirled his finger around the tip and brought it to his mouth. Spike shuddered as Giles licked his finger clean of pre-come.

"Can't," Spike gasped.

"That's your decision. You can stay here, hard and helpless, for days. Just because you can't come doesn't mean that I won't." Giles began to thrust again, pushing Spike's legs further up and apart and watching where he plunged into that pale, perfect body. His chest was heaving with his arousal and the exertion of remaining in control. He wanted to lose himself in the sensation, wanted so badly to thrust and grunt and shout his release, but he would not break before Spike did. "Do you have any idea... how many times I could come in you... over a weekend?"

Spike just shook his head, his eyes nearly shut and his body open to the fierce rhythm of Giles' hips. Pushing harder, deeper, Giles' world began to fragment again.

Engorged cock leaking over a flat stomach. Arms and torso stretched to their limits. Hands limp beyond the battered handcuffs. Lean legs draped over Giles' shoulders. Eyes blank with need beneath heavy lids.

Giles felt his orgasm building, and he rubbed the head of his cock over Spike's prostate, making the vampire twitch and cant his hips to a better angle. Giles felt the burn growing in his balls, along his lower back, behind his eyes, and he forced himself to stop moving.

A thready whine escaped from Spike's throat.

Giles leaned forward, pushing Spike's legs nearly to his chest, and brushed their lips together.

"Do you want to come with me, love?" he asked.

"Yes. God, yes," Spike whispered, trying unsuccessfully to reach Giles' lips again. "Please."

"Just one sentence is all it takes. I don't need you to come to find my own pleasure, but I would like it."

Giles began to rock slowly, barely moving his hips, and Spike's eyelids fluttered closed.

"Just one sentence," Giles murmured, backing off far enough to run his palm down the length of Spike's cock. Before Spike could do more than whimper, Giles withdrew until his erection was nearly free of Spike's body and then pushed back in hard. He groaned and forced himself not to repeat the motion. "I'm nearly there, but you could be waiting for days." He thrust again. "Weeks."

"I'll say it. I'll say it!" Spike all but sobbed, clawing at the headboard.

"Go ahead, love." Giles wrapped his fist around Spike's cock and waited.

Spike took a shaky breath.

"Arsenal is the best football team in the whole bloody world," he said.

"And...?"

Spike writhed as Giles began to stroke him.

"And Manchester United couldn't - fuck! - beat them even if Arsenal had their legs tied together."

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

Giles flicked open the cock ring and bent over Spike as he let himself go. One hand held Spike's hip, while the other worked his cock. He pressed Spike into the mattress as he lost himself in the glorious rush of victory and impending orgasm. In a moment, there was a rush of semen over his hand, and the feel of Spike clenching around him sent Giles over the edge. He gasped Spike's name as he spilled his release deep inside him.

His body tingling and his ears buzzing, he barely managed to free Spike from the handcuffs before he collapsed onto the bed.

"You're a right bastard, you know that?" Spike asked some time later. He was curled up around Giles, his arm tight around his waist and his ear over Giles' heart.

"If you don't like how I treated you, perhaps you will refrain from insulting my football team in the future," Giles said.

"Now, when did I say I didn't like how you treated me?"

~end~