Summary Giles mourns the passing of a lover. But he isn't alone . . .
Rating NC17 SLASH
Disclaimer I don’t own ‘em. They aren’t mine. Although for $50 and a homemade
meal, I’d take Ethan . . .
Notes The title comes from the song “One Headlight” by The Wallflowers.
Written for Mydeira in the btvs_halloween exchange. So of course she couldn't beta it,
but Trkkr47 stepped in admirably.
Somehow he ended up here every night, drawn by some unnamed force to this cemetery, this plot. It wasn’t wise to be here in the dark, but he gave no thought to his own safety. It seemed so trivial now.
The funeral had been a week ago.
The sod over the grave had taken hold, becoming all of a piece with the rest of the lawn. It was like she had always been here.
But Giles knew better.
A week ago, she’d stood in front of him, asking for and offering forgiveness for unspeakable betrayals.
A month ago she’d been stealing kisses from him in the corridors at school.
A year ago she had walked into his library for the first time, baiting and teasing him, calling him old fashioned. Cracking his shell for the first time in years.
God, he missed her.
“You always did cry at the funerals.”
Giles whirled to find Ethan Rayne standing behind him, hands in the pockets of his gray overcoat.
“Who was she?” he asked, almost gently.
Giles turned back to the grave. “No one you would remember.”
Ethan stepped closer to the grave. “Jenny Calendar.” He thought for a moment. “Wasn’t that the pretty little schoolteacher you were so protective of last time I was here?”
Giles didn’t answer.
“I’m sorry. You seemed very attached to her.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You aren’t sorry.” Giles turned, finally having a target for his anger. “You’ve never been sorry for anything a day in your life.”
Ethan shrugged. “There have been occasions.”
“What are you doing here, Ethan?”
“Business,” he replied blandly.
“I suggest you take your business elsewhere.” He turned and walked away from Ethan and the grave. “Neither Buffy nor I are in the mood to tolerate your kind of business right now.”
“Ah, but the perks here make it so very much worth it,” Ethan smirked, following him.
“You like getting beaten down that much?”
“At least I know I have your attention.”
“You want my attention?” Something inside him snapped, and he whirled, grabbing Ethan by the lapels of his coat to shove him up against a nearby crypt wall. “You’ve got it. But I doubt you’ll like it.”
“I might.” Ethan’s eyes had gone dark, and his tongue came out to moisten his lips. “Ask me back to your place.”
Giles felt the tone of their encounter change in that instant, felt it reach in and knot around his guts. Ethan wanted him, and god help him but he wanted Ethan. Even after all this time, just being near him still raised passions usually sublimated beneath violence or avoidance. But he couldn’t give into it, didn’t dare go back to that place in himself. “No.”
“Fine. Then we’ll do it here.” Capturing the back of Giles' head in both hands, Ethan guided their heads together to begin devouring Giles' mouth.
Giles welcomed it. He knew he shouldn’t, but it was so familiar, and comforting in a way that didn’t remind him of the dead woman in the ground off in the distance. Only Ethan could make him feel like this, make him let go of propriety and responsibility and just take what he wanted.
He let himself relax, pressing into Ethan’s solid body as he gave himself over to their kiss. If Ethan had laughed, or made some snide comment, that would have been the end of it. But he didn’t. Instead he dropped one arm to slip beneath Giles’ jacket and around his waist, holding him closer as his other hand remained on Giles’ head, guiding their mouths. Giles rested his hands on Ethan’s shoulders for a moment before moving them under the overcoat to rediscover the musculature beneath.
Ethan pushed away from the wall to shrug out of his coat, pushing Giles’ own blazer off as well. Giles let his fingers toy with the buttons of Ethan’s shirt, hesitantly popping them one by one as Ethan tugged his tie free. Ethan showed much less care unbuttoning Giles’ shirt, several of the buttons disappearing off into the grass. Giles groaned aloud as Ethan’s coarse hands stroked over his bare pectorals for the first time in decades.
“Missed that, did you?” Ethan purred against his throat. “You’ve kept in good shape,” he added, his hands exploring.
Giles’ hand trailed over the taut muscles of Ethan’s stomach. “So have you.”
He chuckled, pushing away Giles’ shirt to join his blazer in the grass. “You know my vanity has always been my failing.” He moved his head lower to nip along Giles’ collarbone.
“One of many,” Giles breathed, mimicking Ethan’s actions to undress him.
“You never complained before.”
The feel of Ethan’s warm, slightly abrasive palms skimming roughly over his back drew a soft gasp from Giles’ throat. “Yes, I did,” he denied. “Constantly.”
Ethan shrugged. “You never really meant it.”
Before Giles could argue, Ethan caught his mouth again, preventing any response by the simple expedient of keeping their tongues too occupied to speak.
Giles just relaxed beneath the attention, his hands resting on Ethan’s hips as the other man explored his torso with hands and lips and tongue.
Ethan slid his mouth wetly up the column of Giles’ throat to stop next to his ear. “You’ve gotten passive over the years,” he purred, the vibrations of his voice making Giles tremble. “I think I like having this much power over you.” And he bit down sharply on Giles’ earlobe.
The electricity of the pain and the mortification of his words roused something dark within Giles. With a growl, he caught Ethan’s wrist and spun him to slam him up against the marble wall, twisting his arm up behind his back to pin him in place. “Let’s review who has the power here, shall we?”
“There’s the Ripper I know and love,” Ethan crowed, his words muffled by being pressed up against the wall. He moved, fighting Giles’ grip to rub back against his hips. “Fuck me, Ripper.”
Giles felt the last of his restraint flow straight to his cock. Biting a sharp trail up the side of Ethan’s throat, he commanded softly, “Drop your pants and I will.”
Moving quickly, Ethan slipped his free hand between his body and the wall, and a moment later his trousers were sliding towards the turf. Giles pressed closer, allowing his hips to push against Ethan’s firm ass, providing blessed friction through the canvas of his own slacks. The hand not pinning Ethan in place slipped around him, coursing down over his stomach until Giles was cupping Ethan’s balls firmly in his hand. Ethan groaned and let his head fall back against Giles’ shoulder, exposing his throat to the attentions of Giles’ mouth.
The weight of Ethan’s sac in his hand was like a half forgotten memory to Giles, but when he moved up to wrap his fingers around Ethan’s length, it was as though the intervening years had never happened. The heft of it, the thick veining pulsing in time to Ethan’s heartbeat, the warm velvet solidity of it were as familiar to him as his own, and for one brief instant he wondered why he had stayed away so long.
Ethan seemed to feel the same. “Christ,” he grunted as Giles began milking him in strong, slow strokes. “I’ve missed this.”
Giles grinned wickedly against his shoulder. “As much as having it in my mouth?”
“Fuck!” Ethan shuddered and bucked, nearly jerking out of Giles’ grip. Breathing heavily, fighting for his composure, he asked huskily, “Are you offering?”
“No.” Although just the thought made his mouth water.
Ethan pressed back harder. “Then for pity’s sake get on with it.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
Taking one hand down off the wall where he was bracing himself, Ethan twisted his arm around to unfasten Giles’ pants. They fell to the ground, his soft boxers following after with a little encouragement until finally his bare cock rested in the warm cleft of Ethan’s ass. Giles leaned against him, just reveling in the warm contact of skin on skin the full length of his body, Ethan making gentle friction as he rocked subtly in time to the strokes of Giles’ hand.
“It’s been too damn long.”
Giles wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of agreeing.
It was crude and less than effective, but they didn’t have many options out here. So Giles spat in his hand and slicked it along his shaft before bending his knees to probe for entrance. Ethan leaned further forward, arching his back to open himself up more. Giles found center and pushed forward with slow deliberation, the tight grip of Ethan’s muscles forcing a groan of pleasure from his throat that Ethan echoed. Giles held him, one hand around his cock, one arm around his chest, joined like that as Ethan adjusted to the penetration.
Ethan was the first one to move, resuming his gentle rocking until Giles began as well, careful strokes of his hand counterpointing slow movements of his hips.
“You can’t help it, can you?” Ethan panted against the cold stone.
Giles nuzzled against his shoulder, never breaking his rhythm. “What’s that?”
“Being gentle. You’ve gone soft, Ripper.”
He turned his head to breath in the smell of Ethan’s hair. “I’ve mellowed is all. Some things improve with age.” And he shifted his hips, slowly rolling them to twist inside his partner.
Ethan cried out at the sensation, slapping the marble wall as he pushed back into the next stroke. Giles tightened his grip around Ethan’s cock, pulling faster and harder, avoiding the gentleness that Ethan had ridiculed. He kept his body spooned tight against Ethan’s back, the heated friction of their skin one more layer of sensation as he rested his forehead in the curve of Ethan’s shoulder. There was a reason the chemistry between them was so volatile. They were opposites, but still so much the same, and when they came together the explosion was overwhelming. Giles knew he couldn’t keep this, but by god he was going to enjoy it while he could.
Ethan came first, a sharp, surprised shout all the warning either of them had before his seed erupted in jerky shots on the grass and marble in front of them. It took Giles barely another minute before pumping his own load deep into Ethan, pressing his lover’s limp body against the cold stone supporting them.
It took a moment for the shame to work its way through the haze of pleasure clouding Giles’ mind. When it finally did, he pulled away, his primal self protesting the loss of warmth and comfort, and silently began dressing.
Ethan turned with a sigh and leaned back against the vault, unashamed in his nudity. “You can’t hide from it, you know.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Giles jerked his pants into place and yanked up the zipper.
“No matter how much you’ve mellowed, the part of you that likes to beat and bugger me is still in there. You can deny it all you like, but you know it and I know it.”
Giles shrugged into his shirt without answering.
“You should use it, Ripper. It might help keep your girls out of the ground.”
He picked up Ethan’s pants and tossed them at him. “Get dressed.”
“Denial, thy name is Ripper,” he said, shaking his head sadly as he stepped into his pants.
Giles shrugged his blazer back into place and threw Ethan’s shirt at him. “Whatever your business is, Ethan, take it somewhere else.”
“I would, but I doubt you’d agree to come with me.”
Giles froze.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised.” Ethan moved into Giles’ personal space, shirt still open, eyes flashing in the dim streetlight. “You’ve always been my business. Now that I’ve found you again, you can expect me not to be far away. It won’t be long until you have to bury your Slayer as well, and then you’re going to have to make a choice. I just want to be sure you see all the options.”
“You aren’t a choice,” Giles sneered. “You’re a convenience.”
Ethan just laughed. “I’ve been called many things, but I doubt anyone would ever consider me convenient.” He turned and walked away. “Think about what I said, Ripper. I’ll be around.”
Giles hated himself for finding comfort in that.