Too Unseemly

Spike’s disgusted snort broke the silence. Gile’s head shot up. “Fucking hell, watcher. Never took you for being stupid as well as pompous.” He stood up slowly, exhibiting his predator’s grace as he stalked closer. “You killed a hell god, hardly an innocent. You think you’re evil? You think you deserve to be punished, kicked out of your precious Council of Wankers?” He could see the agonized despair deep in those hazel eyes. Yes, here was the beast tearing Giles away from them. Here was the beast that had to be destroyed. Not grief, guilt. Guilt and anger. “You think you failed her by doing what had to be done, what she could never do.”

Giles stood as if mesmerized by Spike’s words and intense gaze. He fought to look away, but couldn’t. He needed this, needed someone to see the evil he had done, to reflect it back to him and condemn him as he had condemned himself.

“Evil,” he whispered.

Grief, anger, and despair rolled off him, an aphrodisiac nearly as good as fear for a vampire, and Spike struggled to focus. The moment felt precarious, and he needed to find the words that would bring the Watcher back, not drive him deeper into his despair. He forced down arousal and compassion, turning his gaze hard.

“You killed. A human.”

“Yes.”

“An innocent.”

“Yes.”

“Broke your Council vows.”

“Yes.” Bitter, harsh.

Spike released his grip, but stepped closer to whisper in Giles’ ear.

“And the Powers that Be, the gods that watch over those little slayer girls,” He felt the shudder run through the human, forcing himself to continue and burst through the wall that shielded them all from the anger and grief that Giles so ruthlessly suppressed, “they still let her die.”

Suddenly anger flashed, and Spike ducked the punch aimed for his face. There were no more words as Giles once more struck out, fury distorting his features as his fists channeled the rage and sorrow, giving it an external expression. He threw himself into the fight against the elusive, dodging vampire.

Every few swings, Spike allowed one of the punches to connect. Not enough to hurt him too much, but enough to keep Giles in the fight, enough to let him strike out against the universe that took his slayer, enough to express his need to punish himself.

“Gave up your good-guy license and you still got screwed, didn’t ya,” Spike taunted. He dodged a vicious swing. Damn the Watcher could move quick for an old, slightly soused guy. Spike found himself admiring the fighting form, even as he struggled with his own instinctual need to hit back.

“Bastard. You sodding bastard. Hit back!” Giles growled as he advanced.

“Sorry, mate.” Spike danced out of reach. “Don’t fancy a pounding headache.”

“Hit me you worthless vampire!” Ripper firmly in charge, the words were snarled out.

“No.”

Giles continued to pummel Spike as the vampire suddenly stayed still.

“Bastard.” Spike’s head jerked back as the fist connected with his chin.

“Worthless.” A punch to his abs. “Evil.” A foot connected with his chest, sending Spike reeling backwards. He tripped over a weight bar and sprawled on his back. Giles was on him in a second.

“Why” right hook “won’t” left hook “you” hands grasping the long, white neck “kill me?!” As soon as the words left his mouth, Giles’ eyes widened in shock, taking in his request and the vampire’s beaten visage. He attempted to scramble back, but Spike reached out to grab him.

“No, no, no, no.” Giles squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “God, what have I become?”

“Free, luv.” Spike pulled the shaking human closer. “Shhh, it’s out now. You can be free now. Come back to us.” He nuzzled into the warm neck, smelling the salt tears once more. He ran his hands up and down the shuddering back, holding the solid body close to him, rocking gently. Misery remained, but the grief and anger had lessened. Spike shifted carefully. The passionate violence had aroused him more than he wanted to admit. Now holding this warm man in his arms brought his cock fully to attention. Inwardly he groaned. The last thing he needed was to freak Giles out now and send him fleeing back into his self-imposed solitude over a little erection.

Giles felt the cool body move beneath him, suddenly very aware of their closeness. Again his body reminded him how long it had been since he had allowed himself to be touched, and this slight figure reminded him suddenly of another lithe, muscled form that had writhed beneath him after several rounds of drinks, leaving him to wake with the Hellmouth hangover that had him growling in Fyarl. His cock twitched at the memory.

The pheromones flooded Spike’s senses, wiping out his concern about making the Watcher uncomfortable. He inhaled deeply, scenting for fear or embarrassment, but finding only arousal. He stifled a gasp as Giles shifted their groins closer, moving in slow circles.

“Eh, mate?” Spike pulled back so he could see Giles’ face. His eyes were closed, head bowed.

“Please.” The fractured whisper pulled at Spike’s heart.

“Please what?” He asked gently, continuing to move his hands over the strong back.

“Help me,” Giles whispered harshly. “Help me find my way back. Help me feel.”

Without warning, Spike flipped them over, hovering over the prone figure. His eyes flickered amber.

“Rupert, you sure about this?” The fingers ghosting over the tear-streaked cheeks contrasted with the fierce, needy look on the vampire’s face.

“Spike. William. Please. Fuck me.” Desire, despair, need, lust all blazed from the Watcher’s eyes as he stared at the figure above him.

Spike groaned. His cock pressed painfully against his zipper. Since the chip, he hadn’t taken a human male, and he fought to control his urge to take the Watcher hard and fast. The chip wouldn’t allow that, and paralyzing pain would end the night right quick. Even as this thought occurred to him, Giles ground his erection hard against Spike. The desperation and need spoke to his own pain and isolation. Tonight would not be about love for either of them. Neither held that illusion, nor the desire. But both needed this connection, this affirmation that they were other than dead.

Spike shifted his hips in kind, moaning and then sat back to pull Giles upright. His hands moved to tug the button-down shirt free from khaki slacks. He raked his dull fingernails down Giles’ back and was rewarded with an answering groan of need. Swiftly he ripped the shirt apart and dragged it down and off Giles’ arms. In a mirroring action, Giles grasped the hem of Spike’s t-shirt and yanked it off over the vampire’s head. Hands fumbled desperately at belts, zippers, and buttons, and within seconds slacks and jeans were tossed aside.

“Please. Please. Now.” Giles gasped. His hands grasped the vampire’s hard bicep, kneading the muscles. The Watcher’s head hung forward, eyes closed, chest heaving with ragged breaths.

“Shh, pet.” Spike forced himself to slow for a moment. He rested his head against Giles’ chest and reveled in the sound of the pounding heart. The pumping blood fueling his demon’s lust. His hands wandered over the sweating skin, one sliding up and down the broad back gently as the other worked from one brown nipple to the other, sliding through the crisp chest hairs.

“Don’t stop, please, Will.” Tears hovered beneath the frantic words. Spike moved his hand down to work the boxer-clad erection with gentle promise. His mind raced to determine how to continue without setting off his chip or breaking the already damaged human further. The cock twitched in his hand as Giles gasped.

“Not stopping,” he vowed. “Rupert? Luv?”

“Shut up, Spike! Shut up and fuck me.” Giles slammed his hips forward for more contact with the cool hand. His eyes remained squeezed closed with his chin pressed to his chest. Spike shuddered in response. He wanted nothing more than to rip off those cotton shorts and ravage the Watcher, but the sodding chip would never let him get away with it. His demon balked at the idea of being taken by a human, but at the same time a little voice insisted that letting Giles lie back and take it would be another way of letting him slide further away.

“Bloody hell, mate. God knows I want to.” Spike moaned, pressing closer to the hot flesh. Giles began to pull away, eyes opening blankly.

“Sorry,” he muttered, turning his face away as the flush of embarrassment crawled up his cheeks.

“Hey,” Spike grasped the human’s chin and turned his face back. Desire, pain, and compassion shone from blue eyes. “Told you I’m not stopping, but the chip, mate. Can’t fuck you without it going off.”

Understanding and resignation passed through the hazel eyes before Giles once again closed them. “Right.”

Bloody hell, he was gonna have to spell it out for the git, and it had to be now before the walls went all the way back up. He suppressed the thought of the last man to have been inside him. That was a century ago, and he was not the same demon he was then. This would be his choice.

“So you’re gonna have to do me.” Spike pinched a nipple hard, eliciting a gasp and a larger damp patch on the white cotton boxers. Pressing his advantage, he pushed the larger man onto his back and tore off the last layer that stood between their urgent cocks.

“Gonna make you feel good, pet.” Spike crooned between biting kisses down the bared torso. With another hand he worked their cocks together, pulling in a hard, fast rhythm. There was no time for a gentleness that neither of them wanted.

“Yes. Please. More.” Giles gasped in monosyllabics as he let himself get lost in the physical sensations. The cool flesh both soothed and fired his own heat.

Spike could feel them both coming close to the edge, and he grasped Gile’s cock at the root even as he rubbed is own cock hard against the warm flesh writing beneath him. He howled out his release, but used his strong cool fingers to prevent Giles from following him into orgasm. Fighting the languor that threatened to follow his coming, Spike quickly gathered his cool come and lubricated the swollen cock in his hand.

Giles whimpered and gasped with need. His eyes followed the vampire’s movements, suddenly understanding why his orgasm had been prevented. In one graceful movement, Spike straddled the human beneath him. Giles reached up and braced his hand against the smooth, cool chest, enjoying the feel of the vampire leaning into his touch. Blue eyes closed in concentration as Spike slowly lowered himself on the throbbing cock.

“Gonna make it good for you, luv.” Spike murmured. “Gonna make you feel, make you cum hard and hot.” He concentrated on filling himself, angling his hips to slide that engorged flesh against his prostate, bringing his own cock back to attention. He felt Giles buck up beneath him, and he answered by levering himself up and down, meeting each thrust of the Watcher’s hips.

“God, Spike,” Giles gasped, “so tight.”

“That’s right, pet. Let go, just feel. Let it all go.” Spike encouraged roughly, sliding cool fingers over swollen nipples, alternately soothing and pinching the hard nubs in time with their thrusting. “Let it go. Feel me here with you. So fucking hot, burning me up inside.”

Spike concentrated on clenching his inner muscles, and he could feel Giles reaching orgasm. He threw his head back and pulled viciously at his own cock, until he finally clenched hard on Giles’ cock and felt the flood of hot semen spurting inside him and pushing him over into an orgasm more intense than the first.

Spike rolled forward to lie beside the gasping human, feeling them separate with a wet squick. For several long moments only the sound of panting breaths filled the training room. Finally, Giles shivered, and Spike turned concerned eyes toward him, half-afraid of the expression he would meet.

“Cold?”

“A bit,” Giles admitted. He snaked a hand out to trail it down the vampire’s sharp cheek. “But I’m not sure I can move yet,” he added with a low chuckle.

Spike felt tears prick at the welcome sound. Giles was here. He could hear it in the laugh, that bloody lovely open sound. He let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes against the relief he felt.

Giles watched the vampire swallow heavily and struggled to find words to express the freedom, the release that he felt. He recognized the relief as well as the fear that Spike must have felt in taking the risk to haul him back from the black depths of his despair. He breathed deep, feeling the bands that had constricted his heart for so long loosening. The cool air of the training room caused him to shiver again, and he knew he would need to get dressed soon. He sat slowly, watching the still figure next to him. Leaning over carefully, knowing that the vampire would sense each movement, he gently pressed his lips to Spike’s, deepening their first kiss as those cool lips responded.

“Thank you,” he whispered finally before standing and making his way over to the lockers that held his training clothes. Behind him he heard a rustle of denim and leather as Spike dressed. Suddenly the hard body pressed up against him, and a gentle voice whispered in his ear.

“Thank you, pet.” A quick kiss was dropped on his neck.

Giles turned to see the leather duster disappear through the back door into the night. He clicked off the lights in the training room and returned to the main room of the Magic Box. The light over the research table lent shadows to the corners of the shop. Glancing back at the training room door, he made his decision. After he set tea to brew, he pulled the journal out of its drawer in the counter and placed it on the table. Tea made, he sat carefully, opened to the blank pages and began to write.

Outside the shop windows, the blaze of a cigarette flared as Spike drew deeply. He nodded to himself as he watched the seated figure before striding off to the cemetery and his empty crypt.

fin