Rating: Started out as a cute puff piece, but quickly degenerated into an NC-17 smutfest!
Summary: Giles and Spike have an argument about shoes.
Spoilers: Season 4. Giles and Spike are roomies.
Disclaimer: These characters are owned by "THE MAN" (the man ingredients may include:Joss Whedon, Fox Television, Kuzui Enterprizes,Sandollar Television, Mutant Enemy and less than 1% of Corporate America)
Notes: I think I've been too serious lately? This pairing has long occurred to me. Gileswench recently stepped forward with the balls, so I'll just borrow them for awhile.
Oh My God, I'm so sorry………………………….
Spike removed the mug of blood from the microwave and tested the temperature with his index finger. A little warmer than he'd wanted. He never could get the hang of these bloody machines, pushing a lot of little digital buttons, everyone assigned some random allotment of time-and woe to those who didn't memorize every sequence or before you knew it everything was boiling over and making a hell of a mess and then that poncy librarian was flitting about screeching in your ear about inconsideration and slovenly houseguests and a bunch of other crap that gave him a headache.
not to chance it. The blood will cool down.
He strolled over to the couch and bounced down on the lumpy cushions, throwing his feet up on the coffee table. Not even a proper place to sleep, just some ratty old piece of shit probably left over from Giles first apartment-what, 400 years ago-that old fossil. Spike laughed softly at his own joke and the mental image of having to dust the librarian off like some museum curiosity.
"Must you put your feet up on my coffee table? You're going to leave big scuff marks all over the surface," Giles chided as he came out of the bathroom and rounded the corner to the living room, seeing Spike's muddy Docs propped square and center on the newly polished wood.
"Well if you had one of those comfy footstools, I wouldn't have to. This thing is all wrong. It's too high. Puts a crimp in my hip," the blonde complained.
"Oh please forgive me, I've been a neglectful host," Giles bit out as he reached for a towel to put down to try and save the piece of furniture from the thrashing the combat boots were sure to deliver. He leaned over and thumped the side of the vampire's foot and jerked his thumb to the side in a nonverbal warning to lift them up.
Spike sniffed loudly as his reluctant host leaned over to fuss at him. "What's that then, you wearing aftershave? About to break your celibate streak? What's it been-twenty, thirty years?
Giles closed his eyes and sighed. "I'll have you know that I…" he stopped, then changed his mind and added, "It's none of your business, but I'm going to talk to a man about singing at the coffee shop."
"I think they call it an espresso bar in this century Rupert old boy." The vampire gave him a quick head to toe appraisal. "You're not going to wear that are you?"
"What's wrong with this?" Questioned Giles, looking down at his silver colored button down shirt and cardigan.
"Two words come instantly to mind-fuddy and duddy. I suppose it's all right if you're someone's maiden aunt, but not exactly fitting for a musician is it? And those shoes…don't get me started."
Giles twisted his foot back and forth studying the brown leather loafers he wore. "I'll have you know that these are my favorite shoes, and I consider them to be very lucky. There's nothing wrong with them. They're very stylish. But then what could I expect from someone who purchases their footwear from the Hell's Angels catalogue."
"Oh style diva, teach me your ways. That entire ensemble screams foofy nancy boy. You may as well prance down the street with a sign pinned to your back that says 'easy meat' There's a suck hole in a men's bathroom in Piccadilly that's screaming for you, are you familiar with it? Fancy a little Palare?
Giles immediately stiffened his spine and narrowed his eyes. "You vile little…"
"Now, now, don't hurt my feelings. I am a guest after all," the blonde warned with a slight leer. "I might go with you. I could do with a little entertainment; do me good to get out of the house. What time do you have to be there?"
"Nine o'clock"
"Well you better step on it, Rup. Hadn't you?"
"I've got plenty of time, it's only ten 'til." Giles grumbled as he unbuttoned the sweater he was wearing and walked over to hang it on a peg by the front door.
"Yeah, ten 'til nine. There's a little hand too, see. When it's on the number after the eight and before the ten-then it's nine o'clock."
Giles stopped and took a second, closer look at the clock. "Bloody hell, is that really the time?"
Spike lifted the mug, draining the last of its contents before answering. "What have I been talking about for the last five minutes? You're not going daft are you? Are you going to start wandering around in a nightgown and talking about the war? What do they call that-old timers?"
Giles glared at him. "It's called Alzheimer's you twit. And no, I don't have it, but everyday you're here I pray that I develop it. It would be a blessing to get away from your constant prattling." He slammed the door noisily behind him.
"Hey, I said I was coming with you," Spike called out as he stood up and headed for his leather coat hanging next to the former librarians discarded sweater.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"So what'd he say," Spike asked as Giles sat down in the chair opposite him.
"I do a set tomorrow night," he replied with a pleased little twist of his lips, and then blew on the surface of his tea before taking a sip.
"So what's on the playlist hmn? Stairway to heaven?" Spike guessed, then tipped his smuggled bottle of beer up and guzzled half its contents.
Giles only rolled his eyes and took another sip of his tea.
"Sweet Transvestite?"
That did earn the vampire a deadly glare, then a declaration to the air at their table. "I'm ignoring you."
"Fucking good luck to you," Spike challenged and tipped his bottle again to drain the last half of it.
They sat in silence for nearly 20 minutes. "Are you sucking your cheeks in?" Giles accused staring at the hollow below the blonde's facial bones."
"What are you on about?"
"Are you preening over there?" Giles charged in an incredulous tone.
"Well if I was, it wouldn't be for you. I'm still pretty enough to get a date old man."
He must have hit a nerve. Giles left the last bit of his tea on the table and stood up. "I'm going home now. I will either see you later, or I will be joyously blessed by your absence tonight, " he said peevishly.
"Yeah, this place is a wash, fit only for grannies and the socially retarded. No offense on either account, Rupert," Spike mocked, holding his hand up in an apologetic gesture.
Giles didn't bother to reply. He turned around and headed for the back door, which was down a narrow hall leading to the restrooms. Spike set his second smuggled bottle down on the table with a decided thump and followed the other man.
He'd just caught up with the human as they reached the men's room. Someone exited the facilities and rudely plowed their way into Spike, knocking him off balance and into the watcher. Both were a little surprised to find themselves face to face, chest to chest…groin to groin.
It didn't mean anything that they both felt the rush of blood swelling to their dicks, it was merely due to physical stimulation. It was a mammal thing-like, dogs will lick their genitals, or monkeys in a cage will eventually fling their own shit if they're bored enough. You know, there's a scientific principal at work their somewhere. A + B=C. Penis+touch by another human=swollen cock (or something like that)
Giles seemed to recover first, pushing at the blonde's chest. "Do you mind? Being mauled by you is not high on my list of social engagements at the moment."
Spike looked surprised, then offended. "Do ya think I want anyone seeing me snogging a *librarian* fer God's sake? I mean, even I have standards." He took a step back.
"I shudder to even contemplate the depths of said standards." Giles straightened himself before continuing towards the exit.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Not sleeping.
Full bladder.
Need to piss.
Spike stumbled from the couch and into the bathroom without even having to open his eyes properly. The fact that he could do it only proved that he'd been bunkin' with Giles too long.
He was stuck in a rut. He needed new digs Yeah, a place of his own, he thought as he unzipped and smiled at the ringing stream of urine that provided much relief.
Spike half turned towards the door when he felt another's presence and saw a sleepy Giles standing in the doorway. The man's eyes widened when he realized what he'd interrupted.
The vampire showed no shame, tapping the last drops of moisture off of his penis slowly and deliberately before re-zipping. "Can I help you with something Rup? Do you wanna lecture me about closing the door or something?"
Giles didn't answer. His face still looked drained of its color.
The vampire swaggered over to him, mild concern and amusement showing on his face. "What, cat got your tongue?" He stood face-to-face and leaned forward. "You're not going all poofty on me are ya?"
Throat muscles worked to swallow a sudden lump. "No."
Spike was enjoying the other man's discomfort, so he didn't move away. "You really should knock or something-let a fellow know you're about. Otherwise, who knows what disturbing things you might see?"
Giles eyes looked everywhere around the bathroom, and then finally, at Spike when he realized the vampire wasn't moving.
For some perverted reason (much like the impulse to tear the legs off of flies) Spike planted his lips against the other man's and began kissing him, then biting and sucking on his lower lip. When he didn't get an immediate protest of revulsion, he pushed farther and started pulling Giles' shirt up in a half hearted effort to remove it.
Quite to his surprise, Giles actually helped him until they both stood bare-chested.
Confusing.
Disturbing.
But also making him hard as a rock.
How far was Giles the downtrodden going to let this go, before he put on the brakes? He decided to test it by maneuvering the human over to the tub and turning on the shower.
Nary a protest.
In fact, a return of the previous kiss and an assist with the zipper of his jeans. Before he knew it, they were both naked under the stream of water. He supposed that he should put a stop to it, but stopping the promise of a shag was like punching a gift horse in the mouth.
Spike mentally shrugged, picked up the soap and started lathering the suds into Giles' harsh chest hair, down his belly…around his cock and balls and around to his ass. A slight shove to the other man's shoulder had him turning around where he immediately braced himself against the tile.
Slowly, carefully Spike pushed in and wrapped his right arm around Giles' abdomen for support as he began pumping into him. He lowered his head and kissed the librarian's shoulder absently, then gave it a gentle nip.
Giles was quiet for once-no lecturing. Probably hoping that none of his precious charges from the Scooby gang ever heard about this.
Maybe Spike would put off looking for a new place for a while?
[END]