Behind Closed Doors


by
Jane Davitt



Part Four

The next two days were spent fucking. Giles ate from time to time and I got through a few pints of blood that I’d stolen from the hospital when he’d been getting his arm stitched. I know we slept because I dreamed of Buffy falling off that fucking tower and woke to find Giles watching me, his eyes thoughtful, but mostly we spent it naked and close, Saturday and Sunday, with no one visiting and the door locked and the curtains drawn.

Found out some things. Giles didn’t go in for the fancy stuff. Cuffs, yes, because I’ve got the strength of ten and it didn’t take a fucking pure heart to give it to me either. He needed some way of holding me in place before he taught me to stay still no matter what he did. Even then, he still used them. He said he liked the way I looked wearing them, the way my muscles moved as I pulled against them. Could get quite detailed when it came to telling me stuff like that. The lube was plain; no flavours, no scent, didn’t glow in the dark or play a tune when you flipped the lid. No toys. And if his hand got sore, which it did at first when I was testing every limit he set, there were plenty of wooden spoons in the kitchen and a riding crop he swore he’d had for years. I believed him, and if I hadn’t I wouldn’t have dreamed of being stupid enough to call him a liar. Well...unless I was bored of course. In that mood, I’d do just about anything. I think Giles caught on to that pretty early on in our time together.

That first Monday, morning came around too fast. I was knackered; been up half the night while Giles took his own sweet time about coming and wouldn’t let me until he had. He cursed when the alarm went off, but he could have managed to leave the house more or less on time if I’d let him. We hadn’t – quite – worked out what we were doing but I think that day got us on track. I was tired, yes, but when he came back into the bedroom to get dressed, naked and minty fresh, he looked too good to waste on Anya. Besides; I’d just realised that I was going to be in the house alone all sodding day and I wasn’t looking forward to that. Or to Giles having second thoughts once I wasn’t around to be taught the error of my ways.

So I grabbed him when he walked by and tried to pull him back to bed. He wanted to, I could tell, but he started going on about opening hours, deliveries – the time he spent yapping, I could’ve had him half way down my throat. Fucking waste. After I got bored of arguing, I rolled back and started to do the job myself. I was hard, he wasn’t doing anything about it so what did he expect?

“- you to have a little more self control and a lot less –”

“Oh God, Giles. Fuck off to your shop, you boring git. Spend the day picturing me doing this –” slow, gentle stroke for effect, “and if it gets you hard, stay behind the counter.”

I was watching him when I said that. Wanted to see what he’d do. Fuck me? Hit me? Stalk off in a snit?

None of those. He looked at me. Stood there, cock hard, stark naked, folded his arms and looked at me. God, if anything was needed to get me harder it was Giles with the still face and the cool, angry eyes. He looked fucking unpredictable and that was just perfect. I’d wanted to shake him up, jolt him and it looked as if I had.

“You have a choice, Spike. Or, I should say, you had one. Remember making it a couple of nights ago? No, don’t speak; I think you’ve said enough. A nod will suffice.” Gave it him, curious and so fucking hard. “I see I’ve been at fault. Been too willing to overlook your...lapses because –” and I’ve never seen him smile like that, never even knew he could. I remembered Angelus with a neck to bite - hungry and happy and fucking scary. That was Giles smiling. “Fucking you is so delightful a distraction, just as you promised it would be, that I became...indulgent. I do apologise. This isn’t achieving what we want at all, is it now?”

I opened my mouth to ask what it was that ‘we’ wanted because all I wanted right then was him inside me, and he slashed his hand across my face, hard enough to jerk my head sideways, then laid one finger across my lips. “I’m not minded to let you talk, Spike. In fact, until I release you, I want silence. Anything that sounds like a word in any language I know and I’ll be most annoyed.” Started to try and think of the demon languages he was likely to be fluent in and gave up.

“Rules. I didn’t want to bother with anything set down in stone; so tiresome. In fact, I don’t think we will. The rules are simple, Spike, so simple even you shouldn’t have any trouble grasping them. You do what I say. You obey. You endure. You serve me. You make me happy.”

He knelt by the bed, wrapped his hand around me and I moaned, thrusting up into his fist.

“Was that a word, Spike?” He frowned at me. Bugger knew it wasn’t. I shook my head, saw that smile again. “Oh, I’m fairly certain I recognised it. Possibly the Kratchian for, ‘I’m very sorry, Giles for being so disrespectful, importunate and forward’?” Uh, yes, fair enough. If that was what he wanted. I nodded eagerly, hoping it would get his hand moving because those warm fingers were driving me fucking nuts. I knew what they could do and they weren’t doing it.

His eyes widened. “So it was a word? Oh, dear, Spike. If you’re having trouble remembering an order I gave you just a minute ago...”

Oh, bollocks. A month later, a few weeks even and I wouldn’t have walked into that one. Underestimated him and the way he could take advantage of every opening, every weakness. Made him a hell of a dirty fighter and some times, just some, a battle was just what we had going on.

Cuffs, crop, my backside. Giles seemed to think they went well together. Six strokes, just to be traditional, just enough to show me he wasn’t messing around. Didn’t make a fuss, didn’t fuck about with timing it, making it drag on. Didn’t want to be any later to the shop than he had to be. Just slashed it down against my arse, waited long enough to see the mark rise up against my skin, ran one finger down it thoughtfully and then briskly set to making it a nice, round number.

He’d done this before. No hesitation on the first stroke, no wild flailing around on the others. Precise, careful and neat. And bloody painful, even if the marks would be gone long before he got home.

“I think you need time to reflect, Spike,” he said kindly. Oh, that just took the biscuit; feeding me straight lines like that when I was under a vow of fucking silence. “I’ll try to pop back at lunchtime.” ‘Try’? What did he mean, ‘try’? “Hopefully, you’ll be clear on matters by then.” He put his hand on my hip and rolled me onto my side. It hurt because it tugged on my cuffed wrists but I wasn’t complaining because he stroked my cock with the tips of his fingers; once, twice...

“So want to fuck you, Spike,” he murmured. “Not sure you’d stay quiet though and I don’t want to have to punish you twice in one day.” Eyes can be eloquent but he wasn’t looking at my face, unfortunately or he’d have seen me trying to say, ‘Thanks for nothing’. I’d have taken a dozen more strokes if he’d fucked me and done my best to be quiet for him.

He stood up, let me roll back onto my stomach and gave my arse a brisk pat. “See you later, Spike. Oh, and if you come while I’m away, it’ll be the last time you do all week, so make sure you enjoy it.”

He twitched at the curtains to make sure they were shut, got dressed and left.

He came back at lunchtime. To come in my mouth, with me spread out beneath him, touching him because if I hadn’t been able to do even that, it would have been too much to bear. I didn’t get to come though. I had to wait until after the shop closed, he said, and he took me back there with him to make sure I did. He didn’t trust me then, which was sensible of him.

But he was deep in me before the bell had stopped jangling behind the last customer and the next morning, he set the alarm early.





Part Five


Giles didn’t make me wait on him as a rule, didn’t expect me to cook for him or do the laundry like bloody Harris did when I stayed with him. There were times I spent hours naked, kneeling and waiting for orders if I’d done something to piss him off – or even just because he wanted me like that, but that was different.

On the Wednesday of that first week with him, he decided he wanted tea. He really did drink that stuff, even when no one was looking. A taste for it was something I lost too long ago to remember, but I knew how to make it and I could make it with tea leaves like he preferred. Trouble was they clogged the sink up. When he saw the mess I’d left he asked for another pot. Too weak. Made me throw it away, start over. Next one; too strong. By the time he’d finished impersonating Goldilocks, I’d made him six bloody pots.Finally he took one sip, set the cup down and nodded, all nice and cool. “That’s fine, Spike. Thank you.”

His eyes went back to his book and I waited for about thirty seconds. He lifted his head and gave me a puzzled smile. “Yes?”

Absolute innocence, not a hint of anything else. I’d made him a cuppa and he’d said thanks. End of story. I peeled off my t-shirt and dropped it in front of him. That got me a lifted eyebrow and a polite, surprised look. “Damp,” I explained. “The kitchen’s all foggy.”

He laid his book down after closing it. Knew he wasn’t really reading it; no bookmark. I watched as he reached for the shirt, picked it up and felt it.

“Seems dry enough to me,” he remarked, tossing it aside.

“Well, if you want me to catch my death –”

“Oh, no,” he said, his face serious. “Please, do get out of those damp things.”

He let me get tangled up in my jeans, trying to work them over my feet without hopping around, and grabbed me just as I kicked them off. He moved fast when he wanted to. As soon as I felt his hands on me I stopped, stood still and waited. That was what it was like back then, when he was still raw, still healing. I’d never know when it would all change: go from summer day calm to eye of the storm. He wasn’t angry with me right then but he wasn’t playing either.

He stood behind me, his right arm curled around my waist, his other on my left shoulder. I waited to hear the rules, knowing there’d be something I had to do, not do... “Hands by your side.”  They were anyway and I felt the muscles in my arms tense as if I was already fighting his command, already wanting to move, to touch him.

He slid his hand across the nape of my neck; made me shiver and lean back against him. His hand carried on moving, clamping down on my right shoulder hard enough to hurt and then slipping back to lie flat against the side of my neck, forcing my head to the side with a steady push. Done it a thousand times myself. If I let myself I could almost hear that tiny noise skin stretched tight makes when fangs pierce it, could almost see the dark blood well up, almost see the moment when it flashed from blue to red as the air altered it, almost taste it pouring, spurting, filling me, making me real, just for a moment.

Giles’ teeth grazed my neck and I felt my hands clutching at air, my hips jerking forward as his hand slipped from waist to cock. So delicate...teeth and fingers touching, teasing when I wanted them to – his teeth sank in, biting down as his fingers curled tightly, possessively, working my cock with rapid, hard strokes and I think I screamed because he moved his mouth to cover mine, letting me taste my blood on him, while his hand kept moving and I fought to keep my hands by my side because I knew if I moved, if I reached back for him, he’d stop and I’d –

He pulled his mouth away, and turned me around so that we were facing each other, taking his hand away from my cock. Thought for a moment he was going to leave me like that, sit back down, and pick up his book. Really don’t know what I’d have done. He’d timed it so that I was on the edge of coming, hurting with it, aching and desperate. The bite mark on my neck was throbbing as if his teeth were still there and I started to count each throb, willing myself not to come, not to beg, not to howl. Got to five and he grinned, a wicked, gleeful grin.

Then he sank to his knees, grabbed my arse and pulled me to him, taking me deep, sucking hard while his fingers dug in. I wanted to hold his head still, fuck that blood smeared mouth hard - Couldn’t do it. My hands stayed in place, I came when he let me, and when he rocked back on his heels, smiling up at me as he wiped his hand across his mouth, he looked just the same as he looked when it was me down there. In control. Giles wanted to taste me, he did it, end of story.

He stood up, sat back in his chair and looked at me. “I think your clothes should be dry now, Spike. Perhaps you’d like to get dressed?”

Sometimes he needs saving from himself. I picked up the cup of tea and sipped it. Lukewarm. Tasted awful. “If I tipped this in your lap, what would you do, Giles?”

“Put my trousers in to soak; tea stains terribly.” Scary part was that I think he meant it.

I sighed. “After that.”

“Oh, you mean the part where I don’t spend the next hour fucking you because I’m too exhausted from applying, hmm, let me see...my belt perhaps? to your impudent little arse?”

“Just asking.”

“Of course.”

“Hypothetical”

“Indeed.”

“Going to fuck me, Giles?”

“Oh, yes.”

Knew I could convince him.





Part Six

We fought of course. Fought about everything from what to watch on T.V to who’d left the top off the fucking toothpaste. Never real fights though, the kind that ended with me walking out or being thrown out. We were getting along well, or at least I thought we were. Giles had lost that air of not really listening and I felt surrounded by attention, with Giles not letting me think about anything other than pleasing him because it paid off so well when I did. Fools paradise really; we both still had obligations and responsibilities and locking ourselves away from them was just painting over the rust.

Then he decided to tell the fucking Scoobies. He had to tell them, I knew that; hard to hide me living there, though he’d come up with some excuses that worked the first few times they’d visited. I just didn’t expect him to do it so soon, less than a week after I’d moved in. He called Xander to tell him to get the others and come around, with me standing beside him, and managed to keep his voice steady as I slid down and started to suck him off – then gave me hell when he came off the phone. I expected him to at least let me finish him off but he glared at me when I tried and told me to get dressed, his voice icy. Lesson One. Don’t try and make Giles moan and beg for more when he’s got Harris on the other end of the line. Well. Couldn’t blame him for that, I suppose. Wouldn’t want that surly git to get the wrong idea.

They all trooped in obediently, giving me the look that said ‘Why is he here?’. Dawn was the only one who smiled, Tara the only one who looked me in the eyes. Giles had made me put my coat and boots on so I guessed I wasn’t going to get to listen to the shrieks of outrage. Pity.

Giles let them sit, ran through a few plans for a patrol rota that had them yawning and then mentioned that I’d moved in for a while.

It didn’t go down well. The obvious question was ‘why?’ and Giles didn’t have a good answer. He tried to make it sound as if I was a lodger, about it being convenient in case I was needed to have me under his eye, somewhere with a phone...Dawn looked puzzled but not very interested, but the others weren’t fooled.

The shock wore off and they started to push him, ganging up on him. Made me sick to listen. I knew what he was capable of, knew what he’d gone through, and these...these fucking children were yammering away at him, making him stammer, making him retreat, making him tell the truth. He couldn’t lie well to them and they knew it. Besides; didn’t take a genius to work it out; one bedroom, I was hardly likely to be in the bloody bath anymore, and if I had been sleeping on the couch that wouldn’t have been half as scandalous so they never even considered it.

Finally Willow nailed Giles with a direct question, one he couldn’t side step, all tight - lipped and flashing eyes, certain I’d done something to her precious Giles. “Where’s he sleeping, Giles?”

He stood up. “Spike? It’s dark now. Please go and get yourself some more blood; you’re running low, I noticed.”

He reached into his pocket but I held up a hand, “I’m fine for cash, thanks.” I hesitated, not wanting to go, not wanting to leave him to face them alone, but his face hardened and he jerked his head at the door. I went. Not far, but I went. Then I doubled back and listened.

“- money? What’s he doing you have to pay him for, Giles? Or don’t you want to tell us?” Xander always brought everything to such a sordid level.

“Probably sex. Vampires make excellent lovers; lots of stamina, no inhibitions –” Anya. I’d have blamed her for Xander’s attitude, but he’d always been like that.

“What? Giles! That’s so gross! Tell them it isn’t true.” Dawn’s voice was high enough to shatter glass.

“It’s a spell; that’s it. Giles, I’m on it. Don’t worry. Xander; go after Spike, tell him not to come back or you’ll stake him. Make it convincing.”

“Why don’t I just do it, Will? Solves all the problems.” And there I thought they were getting to like me. Not like I’d fought by them, saved their lives...oh, wait. Yeah, I fucking had. Bastards. Almost worth the sting to hear Giles lose it though, get back to the Giles I’d been living with the last week.

“You will all be silent. Xander, get back here. Now! Willow, thank you for your concern, however misplaced. I am not under a spell and yes, I know that’s what I’d say if I were.” He took a deep breath. “None of you have commented on the bandage I had on last week.” Course not. It was only Giles, no need to fuss over him. “I was injured at Spike’s crypt – Xander, if you take one step towards that door I will be seriously annoyed with you – and no, he was neither the cause nor did he do anything for which he deserves staking.” Giles breathed in, slow and steady. “I tried to ... that is, I hurt myself last week, put myself in danger –” Heard Niblet gasp. Felt for her then. She’d gone through enough. “Spike stopped me, took care of me –”

“I’ll bet he did.” Mean spirited little rodent. Couldn’t see it – fuck, I’d have paid high – but Giles grabbed Xander and slammed him against a wall by the sounds of it. God, he’d been asking for that. Wanted to go in, but I was getting so hot just listening to him rip into them, I’d probably have jumped him and that wouldn’t have helped.

“Spike is staying with me because I can’t cope without ...some company now that Buffy’s dead. Don’t you see how empty - how lost I feel?”

 ‘Dead’. They didn’t say that much. Scared of the word, scared it’d be true if they said it. She was ‘gone’; she’d ‘left’; all stuff that meant she could come back. Just wasn’t going to happen.

Xander sounded as if he had a hand wrapped around his throat but he managed to croak out, “Company? Spike? You hate him, Giles. You can’t be telling us – what are you telling us?” He wasn’t a kid like Dawn, but either he was hiding from it – he’s good at that – or he wanted to make Giles spell it out just to see him squirm. Bastard.

Giles dropped him; heard the slither and the crash, and sighed. “Dawn, this might be a little embarrassing. Forgive me for speaking bluntly. Spike and I are –”

“Like Willow and Tara?” Heh. Nice one, Bit.

“No!” Red sounded like she’d been stung by a bee, she yelped that loud. “We love each other, we’re a couple. Giles, you hate Spike, you know you do. He’s evil...” She nattered on and I tuned it out. Heard it all before.

Giles lost it again and that told me he still wasn’t anywhere near normal. All the years they’d known him, and I doubted he’d ever let them see this much of him as a person. Grief, anger and toe-curling embarrassment were making him brutally frank.

 “My private life is not, and never has been, your concern. I have never interfered in your choices, however ill advised they might have been -” I wondered who he was looking at when he said that? “and I expect a similar courtesy in return. I’m only telling you because it’s something that’s impossible to keep a secret now I know it’s not going to be temporary.” That made me pause. I’d been on probation? On trial? Didn’t bother me too much; I could see his point. “Spike is here, is with me as my guest – yes Anya, as my lover, I don’t mean to be coy – and I am responsible for his behaviour. If you have a problem with him, you come to me about it. You have a problem with that, save it. I don’t want to know. Now get out. And send Spike in as he’s bound to be listening.” Oops.

They stood up and there was lots of crying and wailing until Tara and Dawn turned on them. Pick of the litter, that pair. Tara told Willow that Giles’ aura was clear of spells but she could see what he’d been going through. Sob, sob, should have noticed. Dawn chirped about me being good company for Giles because we were both old and English. Er, yeah. Right. Going spend hours chatting about cricket scores and the Shipping Forecast. Anya jumped ship and ranted at Willow for suggesting demons didn’t make good partners and Willow abandoned Xander and accused him of being prejudiced. Xander cracked, lip wobbles all around, and did the manly hug thing (I was peeking through the window at this point; thought I might as well get my money’s worth as Giles knew I was there).

Giles was looking pale and they wouldn’t just shut the fuck up and leave him be. Jesus. How did they ever kill anything when they talked this much?

I walked in and told them to fuck off. That got them out the door because they were too freaked by the idea that Giles and I were fucking to face me. Finally. A way to shut them up. Xander grabbed my arm as he went by, last one out, and pulled me outside. “You hurt him, Spike and I’ll kill you.”

“I found him going up against six vampires last week, so drunk he couldn’t see straight; where were you then, Harris?”

He flinched. Glad it bothered him; we had that much in common at least. “Don’t want to see him die any more than you do,” I told him.

“Since when?”

Good point. “Since now.”

“It’s sick and disgusting and you know it’s not the guy thing I mean.”

No, it’s the jealousy, I thought. You might not want his cock, but you want his attention. Tempted to say it aloud, but two things stopped me; Giles wouldn’t like it and that was starting to be important to me; more of a leash than the bloody chip, plus it’d only get Xander trying to convince me I was wrong and that would interfere with him leaving. “Whatever. Just don’t say that to him, Harris. Understand? Man’s gone through enough without you making it worse. ”

Got one last sneer, half hearted though, and he went. Blessed, blissful silence.

I went back in and met Giles’ eyes. Make that, ominous, scary silence. Giles didn’t like me disobeying him by the look of it, but the hell with that; what he’d been saying concerned me too. Looked at him and decided not to point that out. He didn’t seem to be in a reasonable mood.

“Shut the door, please. Lock it too. I think I’ve had enough company for one night.”

I did as he’d asked and then hesitated. “Want me to push off as well? Give you some, uh, space?”

He smiled, looking almost bemused. “Some space? So I can get in touch with my inner child? You’ve been in California too long, Spike.” The smile dropped off. “And no, you’re not going anywhere now.” He stood up and walked to me, pushing up his sleeves. “Didn’t I tell you to leave?”

“I did.”

“We both know you were disobedient, Spike; save the sophistry. Curious? Was that it?”

He was standing just in front of me, close enough that he filled my vision. Hard to lie to him like this. “Little bit. You knew I would be.”

He grinned. “Of course I did.”

I frowned. “Testing me?”

He snorted with amusement. “What would be the point? I knew you’d fail.” He saw me look frustrated and reached out, hooking two fingers into the pocket of my jeans, tugging me towards him. “Tell you what, Spike; tell me why I told you to do something I knew you wouldn’t, and I’ll let you come tonight, even though you don’t deserve to.”

Hmm. Figuring Giles out got harder the more I knew him, but that wasn’t tricky at all. I slid my arms around him and leaned in to kiss him, just under his ear and working my way down his throat. “You wanted an excuse to punish me.”

“Go on.”

He sounded interested and he tilted his head so I could get to his neck. I made him shiver as my mouth marked his skin, making it flush red and fade, like a cloud at sunset. “You like doing it but you want there to be a reason. But you don’t mind cheating.”

“I never mind cheating,” he agreed, putting his hands on me, one sliding behind my neck and holding me still, the other moving down to unzip my jeans. “Do you have a problem with that?”

I glanced down. “Apparently not.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered,” he said, his hands busy. Felt good, but he wasn’t even trying to do more than get me off fast and I was so primed, it wasn’t going to take long and then – oh shit.

“Uh, Giles? When you said I could come, did you mean just the once because that’s going to be in about – oh God.”

He smiled at me just to show he had teeth that could bite. “Oh, I’m sorry, Spike.” He wiped his hand down my shirt. Charming. “I did mean just the once. Should have said something sooner.”

Bastard.

“Spike?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m allowed to cheat. You aren’t. Remember that next time, hmm?”

I remembered it all through the next hour, with Giles taking his time, pushing me back against the pillows, tasting me, exploring me with fingers and tongue, getting me so frantic he ended up cuffing me because I couldn’t hold still any longer. Couldn’t figure out what he was waiting for, why he hadn’t come either.

“Giles?”

He leaned over, grabbed the lube and I felt my control began to slip just thinking about him inside me. “Yes, Spike?”

“Would it help if I said I was sorry?”

He considered that for a moment, slicking himself up first and then sliding his fingers into me fast and hard. I yelped and his lips twitched, the way they did when he was trying not to laugh. “No. You wouldn’t be sincere. The only thing you’re sorry about –” Another finger. Christ, he was killing me. “Is that you didn’t get to watch me hurt Xander.”

“Well...” He leaned in and kissed me, biting my lip hard and then pulled back, waiting. “Fine. Not sorry. And Giles, if I come, I’m telling you now that I can’t help it.”

Cock replaced fingers, one slow thrust in that had me holding my breath, and he let his eyes flick over to the side. I twisted my head and saw what he was looking at. 12.03. “Oh, for fuck’s sake! I could’ve come for the last three minutes because it’s tomorrow now?”

He began to move. “No.” He stopped playing, slammed into me hard and fast, getting a rhythm straight away. “Only when I say, Spike. Only then.”

Still cuffed so I could only beg. “Say it, Giles. Please. Let me come.”

Knew I was close and I panicked. “Giles!”

He paused, reached down and wrapped his hand around me. It was all I needed.

After, when we lay together, he said, “You sounded almost...frightened at the end there. Why?”

I couldn’t believe that he didn’t get it. “You’d told me not to come; didn’t think I could stop myself.”

“You disobeyed me earlier and it didn’t seem to bother you.”

He sounded curious now and I realised he really didn’t get it. “You expected me to stay and listen, remember? Coming before you said ... ”

Couldn’t say it right.

“Would be letting me down?”

Glad it was dark. I felt his arms pull me in close. “Something like that.”

“You’ll have to trust me to know your limits,” he said.

Thought about it. “Does the idea of that scare you as much as it does me?”

He sighed and rolled away from me, taking most of the covers with him. “Good night, Spike.”

“Tell me.”

He didn’t turn back but after a while, just when I thought he’d gone to sleep, he said softly, “What terrifies me is that I’ll expect more than you can give me. I seem to make a habit of that.”

Fuck. “You won’t, Giles.” He didn’t answer and I reached over, put my hand on him. “I trust you, O.K? I fucking trust you.”

“You’re so fucking eloquent, Spike.” Cool, amused voice, as he rolled over and kissed me – but the air tasted of salt and my eyes were dry.




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