Last Resort

~~~~~
Buffy was relieved that dinner had gone without a hitch, despite the notable lack of strawberries. For reasons unknown, Rupert…no, not Rupert, she reminded herself—Giles…had decided to take part in the ceremony. And even though they were all concerned about their own Rupert, she was grateful that Giles was willing to fill in at the last minute. Especially considering the prudish nature of his home-dimension. She only wished he didn’t look so terrified—he’d hardly eaten a bite of dinner. But if Spike suspected anything out of the ordinary he wasn’t letting on.

As she, Dawn and Oz cleared the table, Willow, Tara and Anya set up the ritual incense and decorated the living room with pillows and blankets, turning it into one large bed. Spike had gone to prepare himself in the guest bathroom, where he would wait until he was sent for. Meanwhile, off in one corner and away from all the hubbub, Xander was coaching a jittery-looking Giles on the ins and outs of ritual joining ceremonies (complete with ‘in and out’ hand gestures that had Giles blushing furiously).

When at last the preparations were complete, Giles rubbed his sweaty palms on his t-shirt and joined the other participants in the middle of the room. This was it—sink or swim, he was about to get thrown into the deep end, and it was too late to change his mind. Giles was just starting to get control over his nerves when he caught sight of Dawn sitting all perky and cross-legged in the armchair.

“What’s she doing here?” he croaked through his instantly parched throat.

“I did my homework!” Dawn protested as if anticipating the outcome of this argument before it even began.

Buffy turned to Giles: “I did promise she could watch,” she said pleadingly.

“No—Buffy, I’m begging you! This is difficult enough for me without having your sixteen year old sister cheering from the sidelines.”

“What’s with Rupert?” Oz whispered to Tara.

“I’ll explain later,” she answered. Oz nodded, satisfied enough to accept her answer without having to ask more questions.

Buffy took in the situation and decided she’d just have to deal with the wrath of Dawn later. Giles looked as if he was ready to bolt, so she grabbed her sister by the hand and tugged her halfway up the stairs.

“Buffy, you promised,” Dawn whined.

“I know I did, but things changed. Giles is serious—he’s not gonna take part if he thinks you’re watching.”

“And if he doesn’t know I’m watching?” asked Dawn in a quiet, conspiratorial tone.

“He’d better not catch you spying,” said Buffy, knowing that she’d just given Dawn unspoken permission to do exactly that. Dawn grinned and mouthed a ‘thank-you’ to her older sister before stomping angrily up the stairs for the benefit of the others.

“Thank-you, Buffy,” said Giles, looking a little less green around the gills now that the only minor was out of the room.

“It’s nothing. Really,’ said Buffy, trying not to appear guilty. “So you think you’re ready?” she asked.

“As I’ll ever be, I suppose,” he answered. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to control his galloping heart with some of his tried and trusted meditative techniques. It was hard to remain focused, however, when all around him clothes were being shed and tossed to the far corners of the room. He gave up on meditation and concentrated on remembering Rupert’s prepared speech instead. Again, not so easy when all his closest friends were walking about naked and slathering themselves with oils. He cleared his throat nervously and felt a jolt of fear when he saw Oz leave to fetch Spike from the bathroom.

“Giles…” whispered Willow. His eyes darted towards her, reluctant to lose track of Oz. “Time to get ready.” She smiled up at him sympathetically with her large eyes.

Removing his t-shirt was not a problem, but his hands were trembling too badly to successfully untie the drawstring of his running shorts. Within seconds there were five sets of hands deftly freeing him from the restraints of his clothing. Giles’ hands instinctively flew to cover his exposed groin.

“Vanilla or cinnamon?” asked Willow, offering him his choice of oils.

“Um…cinnamon?” replied Giles uncertainly, feeling absurdly relieved when Willow grinned at his decision.

“That’s what Rupert likes, too,” she said happily.

Giles had expected her to simply hand him the bottle, but he wasn’t horribly shocked when she opted to apply the oil herself. Best get used to it, he thought, as her practiced hands quickly oiled him down. He was just thankful that she kept those well-practiced hands away from his more private areas. She handed him the bottle and let him finish those areas himself.

“No different than sunbathing, see?” she said, smiling sweetly at him.

Giles returned her smile with a tenuous one of his own then took his position in the centre of the semicircle they had formed, forcing his hands to remain at his sides despite his desperate urge to cover himself up. Oz, returning from his errand, took his place at the end of the half circle and they all stood waiting anxiously.

They didn’t have to wait long. Spike soon appeared, and the sight of him took Giles’ breath away. It wasn’t the oversized silky-white cloak he wore, or the glistening ‘v’ of alabaster skin the loose garment revealed that did it. It was the smile on his face. There was none of the characteristic ‘Spike’ smugness or barely concealed contempt that he was so used to seeing. The Spike that entered the room was as radiantly happy as any bride on her wedding day.

Spike seemed to be gliding on a cushion of air, the folds of his vast cloak billowing around him gracefully. He glided to a stop in front of Giles and the Scoobies formed a circle around the two of them.

Giles licked his dry lips and began his speech, bolstered by the joyful eagerness the entire group was exuding.

“We are here this evening to put an end to a journey—one that began long before the rest of us were born. This journey started with a poet whose trusting soul led him down a dark path. His wanderings took him all over the globe, exposing him to a wealth of knowledge and experience. And though he rarely travelled alone, he remained lonely, always searching for something or someone to fill the void. Despite his numerous companions and the experiences he’d gained, the darkness around him always overshadowed the light, and no matter how far he travelled he could never outrun the demon within.

“But his journey finally brought him here to us, and circumstances have shown us all that there is light enough within him to overcome the darkness. He has shared with us his bravery, his loyalty and his passion, and I have invited him, on behalf of the whole family, to put an end to his wanderings by taking one last step.”

Giles held out his hand and Spike laid his own on top of it. “You were born ‘William Pemberton’ and history has dubbed you ‘William the Bloody’. But you have taken the name ‘Spike’, and in choosing to join this family, you relinquish your past names and vow to become one with us. Take one last step and share with us your love, and in return we will take up your burdens and lay your journey to rest. Do you accept my invitation?”

“I do,” said Spike.

As Giles slipped the gold wedding band onto Spike’s finger, he heard sniffling behind him. He turned to see Tara smiling sheepishly, wiping happy tears from her cheeks. Willow and Buffy also looked glassy-eyed and ready to cry. Steeling himself for what was to come, Giles faced Spike and took a step forward, leaning in to kiss the vampire.

Any repulsion he’d felt towards Spike before the ceremony started had melted away as he recited his speech and felt the truth behind the words. These people were so clearly devoted to each other that he felt their love rubbing off on him. And when Spike’s cold lips touched his own, he didn’t shy away or flinch, as he feared he might.

With his last ounce of courage, Giles undid the sash and the snaps that held the cloak closed. Spike then wrapped the voluminous silken folds around both of them and Oz did up the snaps again, using the sash to tie up the neck hole so that the two of them were completely enveloped in the garment. Finding himself suddenly alone with Spike, Giles timidly wrapped his arms around the naked vampire.

“An’ here I thought I was nervous—Jesus, mate, your heart’s pounding fit to burst,” Spike muttered in his ear.

“I-I just want everything to go smoothly,” Giles answered just as quietly.

Spike nuzzled him closer so his lips brushed Giles’ ear. “That was the most beautiful speech I’ve ever heard. It meant a lot to me, what you said.”

Then those cool lips caught at Giles’ earlobe, pulling the baby-soft flesh into his mouth. Giles’ entire body shuddered as Spike’s tongue flicked over the soft skin—it was his secret weakness, and it invariably made him weak at the knees. Thankfully, Spike caught him just as his knees gave out, and held him up effortlessly.

“Breathe, Rupert,” said Spike. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

Giles found he couldn’t speak—that part of his brain had switched off and left him indefensible. He gave a weak nod and willed his legs to hold him up. Spike’s icy blue eyes, just inches away from his, held him entranced.

“You really are nervous, aren’t you?” asked Spike with a devilish spark in those ancient eyes. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

That flash of pure ‘Spike’, complete with smirk, was all Giles needed to break out of his trance. With a Ripperish smirk of his own, he slid his hands down Spike’s oiled back, digging his nails into the soft globes of his ass.

Spike’s yelp was squelched as Giles’ lips ploughed into his in a rough kiss. Their tongues battled for dominance while two sets of hands competed to find the most responsive bits of flesh.

“That’s my boy,” said Xander from his spot in the circle. “Taught him everything he knows.”

“And it looks like he’s done the smart thing and gone with his instincts instead,” said Buffy.

“Hey!” Xander protested, giving her a playful push.

Meanwhile, inside the vast cloak, things were heating up nicely. Giles couldn’t believe he was actually enjoying himself. With Spike, no less. And all the light-hearted groping was definitely having an affect on him. Spike’s experienced hands had him harder than a pubescent schoolboy. But it was far too early to get carried away. He had a job to perform, after all, he reminded himself. And smiled.

His hands slipped and slid over Spike’s vanilla-scented skin, down his spine and straight on down into the crack of his ass. His fingers probed the tender, slicked aperture and met with no resistance. Spike was ready…much more so than Giles was himself.

Giles’ heart tripped at the thought of what he was about to do. He couldn’t say whether it was out of fear or anticipation; or perhaps it was the fear that he actually was anticipating it. He gave Spike one last kiss and then turned him around. Spike obligingly bent over and grabbed his ankles with an agility that Giles envied. It was an awkward position, and it didn’t help to know that only a thin silk cloak separated them from a circle of spectators, but somehow Giles managed to keep from toppling over as he slowly pushed himself inside the tight coolness of Spike’s body. He worked his cock in slowly, fearful of causing him pain.

“Fuck, Rupert—quit teasin’ already,” Spike said with a throaty growl.

Giles continued with his slow pace, no longer worried about hurting Spike, but loving the fact that going so slow was driving the vampire mad. He was so caught up in the moment that he’d forgotten about the others in the room, and he nearly lost control when the cloak was ripped away, leaving them exposed in mid-act.

“It’s party time!” said Xander, and the circle closed in on them.

Giles had a moment of blind panic where he desperately wanted to click his heels together and go home. His mind couldn’t wrap itself around the fact that it was Willow’s tongue in his ear or that Anya had his balls cupped in her hand as she kissed Buffy. There was no escaping it, though, so he pushed past the fear and…dear God, was it good.

With so many bodies vying for attention, he quickly lost track of whose hands were where and whose tongues were doing what to whom. At one point he watched in fascination as Willow’s tongue swirled circles around Tara’s enlarged nipples as she, in turn, was taken from behind by Xander. It was too surreal to be believed. At least, that’s what he thought until he felt a finger slipping into his anus. That was very real. Giles gave an involuntary jerk forward, which pushed him deeper inside Spike.

“Now we’re talkin’,” he heard the vampire shout as he turned his head to see who was behind him. Oz waved to him with the hand that wasn’t finger-deep up his ass. Somewhere nearby he heard the girls giggling and Xander moaning, and all he could think was that he finally knew what Oz’s true hair colour was. Then the finger inside him crooked and wriggled, and swept him away in a wave of pure bliss.

Giles was aware that he was making a lot of noise, but he couldn’t help it. No matter which way he moved he was assaulted by stimulus. When he felt the tight ring of his anus stretching to accommodate Oz’s penis, he gave a shout and dug his nails into Spike’s midriff. Spike responded by clenching his muscles around Giles’ cock.

With a strangled groan, Giles came deep inside Spike, his fingers still embedded in the vampire’s cool flanks. The trio collapsed to the floor and Spike quickly freed himself to seek action elsewhere. But Oz stayed inside him, taking his time, making it sweet.

Giles couldn’t say how long the whole thing lasted, but he was sure it was several hours from beginning to end. With all the barriers broken and nothing left to lose, he found himself taking the initiative more often; less shy about where his hands strayed or which part of whose body he had in his mouth. When it was over and everyone was too exhausted to move, they wound up in a mass heap of pillows and limbs, blankets and bodies.

Giles was drifting off to sleep with his head pillowed on Willow’s chest, rising and falling with every breath she took. He felt a sense of contentment and belonging that had been lacking in his life until now, and wondered, briefly, how the other Rupert was faring.