Fic 14: Long Distance Lover (G/E, NC-17)
Title: Long Distance Lover
Author: fides
Fandom: Buffy
Character/Pairings: Giles/Ethan
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Unbeted.
Summary: Giles gets an interesting wake up
NB. This was supposed to get posted last night but my network connection fell over.
Giles' eyes snapped open. He had been having a very pleasant dream when awareness that it was more than a dream began to seep into his unconsciousness. Long, skilful fingers caressed his cock through his pyjamas. It would have been a wonderful way to wake up except for two facts; his hands were nowhere near his groin and he was alone in bed.
An invisible fingertip traced a question mark on his chest. The touch was distinctly familiar.
"Ethan?" Giles whispered. There was no response, but Giles hadn't really expected one. The last he had heard, the Chaos Mage was back in England and keeping his nose mostly clean.
Still, there was a feeling of anticipation in the air which Giles didn't think he could fully account for. The children would be horrified but adult company other than his own had been scarce and the one area where he and Ethan had never had a problem had been sex.
"So get on with it," he told the empty air crossly.
Nothing happened.
Giles rolled his eyes. He shoved his night-clothes off and made himself comfortable, spread-eagled naked across the bed. He couldn't signify his consent any more clearly given the circumstance and he got the feeling that that was what was required.
The feeling of fingers walking down his chest reassured him that he was not just making a total fool of himself. Giles groaned as the contact firmed around his cock. The hand, or at least what felt like a hand, began to move slowly along the length of his rapidly filling erection, measuring it. That was Ethan's touch, sure enough, Giles recognised it as easily as his own.
The grip on his cock was firm and just the right side of rough. A second hand tweaked at his nipples, catching him by surprise. His breath hissed out from between his teeth, and he scrabbled for handfuls of mattress as he arched into the touch. Giles mewled in objection when the touch was withdrawn only to reappear, much lower, manipulating his balls with a practiced hand. If Giles could have spread his legs further he would have done but his position already gave his welcomed tormentor as much room as he needed to play.
Somewhere across the Atlantic Ethan was lying in his own bed, touching himself. The thought wormed it's way through Giles' mind, bringing with it memories of times past; of Ethan, naked and unashamed, his own spirit of debauchery. Ethan, who had laughed at Giles' inexperience with men but who, when high of drugs and magic, had admitted Giles was his first only to deny having said it the next morning. Ethan, who lived like he believed they were immortal but who kissed him like each day was their last.
The hand working his cock was moving faster, conducting his body towards its crescendo. The other stroked down, finding its way behind his balls to breach his body in delightful counterpoint. Giles hoped to God that Ethan didn't come first and leave him hanging because if that happened he would be forced to fly to England, track the other man down and kill him and that might require some explanation. But as a second non-existent finger joined the first, stroking his prostate with ruthless enjoyment, and the hold erection tightened minutely he lost any ability to worry, or to think.
Sensations too long denied washed over him, sparking along the fuse-wire of nerves to ignite the explosion within him. He grunted as he thrust with hard and short jabs into the tight nothing. The stimulation went on a little too long, pleasure turning to something uncomfortable as his orgasm ebbed but the driving touch continued. A spasm in the grip and Giles realised hazily that Ethan must be coming wherever he was and selfishly wished he would hurry up and finish. His own cock twitched pathetically, wanted to play but incapable and a little too sensitive for such handling. With a last squeeze, the hand stopped moving.
Giles took a deep breath, feeling a little tender but missing the feeling as the fingers withdraw themselves from his body. It was silly to feel alone as he had never been anything but, however he felt unaccountably disappointed that it was over.
Two fingers brushed his lips, oddly gentle and reassuring, and then there was nothing but the memory of that last caress.
"'bye," Giles mumbled unthinkingly.
He shut his eyes, relishing the heavy lassitude in his limbs and the warm contented feeling of afterglow. In the morning he would dig up his old spell book. There was certainly something to be said for sympathetic magic and it was about time Ethan learned the true meaning of three-fold return. Giles drifted back to sleep with flights of angels giving him come hither looks to tempt him to his rest.
---
Thousands of miles away Ethan smiled contentedly and pulled the duvet around himself. Maybe a long distance relationship would suit both of them.
Author: fides
Fandom: Buffy
Character/Pairings: Giles/Ethan
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Unbeted.
Summary: Giles gets an interesting wake up
NB. This was supposed to get posted last night but my network connection fell over.
Giles' eyes snapped open. He had been having a very pleasant dream when awareness that it was more than a dream began to seep into his unconsciousness. Long, skilful fingers caressed his cock through his pyjamas. It would have been a wonderful way to wake up except for two facts; his hands were nowhere near his groin and he was alone in bed.
An invisible fingertip traced a question mark on his chest. The touch was distinctly familiar.
"Ethan?" Giles whispered. There was no response, but Giles hadn't really expected one. The last he had heard, the Chaos Mage was back in England and keeping his nose mostly clean.
Still, there was a feeling of anticipation in the air which Giles didn't think he could fully account for. The children would be horrified but adult company other than his own had been scarce and the one area where he and Ethan had never had a problem had been sex.
"So get on with it," he told the empty air crossly.
Nothing happened.
Giles rolled his eyes. He shoved his night-clothes off and made himself comfortable, spread-eagled naked across the bed. He couldn't signify his consent any more clearly given the circumstance and he got the feeling that that was what was required.
The feeling of fingers walking down his chest reassured him that he was not just making a total fool of himself. Giles groaned as the contact firmed around his cock. The hand, or at least what felt like a hand, began to move slowly along the length of his rapidly filling erection, measuring it. That was Ethan's touch, sure enough, Giles recognised it as easily as his own.
The grip on his cock was firm and just the right side of rough. A second hand tweaked at his nipples, catching him by surprise. His breath hissed out from between his teeth, and he scrabbled for handfuls of mattress as he arched into the touch. Giles mewled in objection when the touch was withdrawn only to reappear, much lower, manipulating his balls with a practiced hand. If Giles could have spread his legs further he would have done but his position already gave his welcomed tormentor as much room as he needed to play.
Somewhere across the Atlantic Ethan was lying in his own bed, touching himself. The thought wormed it's way through Giles' mind, bringing with it memories of times past; of Ethan, naked and unashamed, his own spirit of debauchery. Ethan, who had laughed at Giles' inexperience with men but who, when high of drugs and magic, had admitted Giles was his first only to deny having said it the next morning. Ethan, who lived like he believed they were immortal but who kissed him like each day was their last.
The hand working his cock was moving faster, conducting his body towards its crescendo. The other stroked down, finding its way behind his balls to breach his body in delightful counterpoint. Giles hoped to God that Ethan didn't come first and leave him hanging because if that happened he would be forced to fly to England, track the other man down and kill him and that might require some explanation. But as a second non-existent finger joined the first, stroking his prostate with ruthless enjoyment, and the hold erection tightened minutely he lost any ability to worry, or to think.
Sensations too long denied washed over him, sparking along the fuse-wire of nerves to ignite the explosion within him. He grunted as he thrust with hard and short jabs into the tight nothing. The stimulation went on a little too long, pleasure turning to something uncomfortable as his orgasm ebbed but the driving touch continued. A spasm in the grip and Giles realised hazily that Ethan must be coming wherever he was and selfishly wished he would hurry up and finish. His own cock twitched pathetically, wanted to play but incapable and a little too sensitive for such handling. With a last squeeze, the hand stopped moving.
Giles took a deep breath, feeling a little tender but missing the feeling as the fingers withdraw themselves from his body. It was silly to feel alone as he had never been anything but, however he felt unaccountably disappointed that it was over.
Two fingers brushed his lips, oddly gentle and reassuring, and then there was nothing but the memory of that last caress.
"'bye," Giles mumbled unthinkingly.
He shut his eyes, relishing the heavy lassitude in his limbs and the warm contented feeling of afterglow. In the morning he would dig up his old spell book. There was certainly something to be said for sympathetic magic and it was about time Ethan learned the true meaning of three-fold return. Giles drifted back to sleep with flights of angels giving him come hither looks to tempt him to his rest.
---
Thousands of miles away Ethan smiled contentedly and pulled the duvet around himself. Maybe a long distance relationship would suit both of them.