tarnished -- part two -- trekker |
Chapter Eight | |
Touch |
They'd been separated for a few weeks, Giles in Sunnydale, and Ethan finally managing to successfully snag another Potential from the shadow of doom. In the nick of time, too. Hadn't been able to save her Watcher, though, but she was alive, and he was actually rather proud of himself. He'd seen her off to Sunnydale, since they figured Bringers would never manage to make it onto a plane, and Giles had picked her up unharmed at the other end.
The first Potential he'd saved, though, had apparently already died, just a short while after arriving in Sunnydale.
However, he and Giles had mutually, silently seemed to have agreed not to discuss such things tonight, and so, as they sat across from each other at a small hotel table finishing off a room service meal, they were instead discussing... sex.
"Actually," Ethan said, "the best sex I ever had was not with you."
Giles sipped his water bottle. He looked skeptical which, for some reason, kind of turned Ethan on.
"Oh no?" Giles said.
"No. In fact, it was with a Dectped demon."
Giles choked on his water. "*What?* That's... that's practically bestiality."
Ethan smiled placidly. "Not at all, actually. It's only bestiality if any of the participants aren't sentient and able to consent."
Giles reached for a napkin as he said, "Oh, well, thank you for making me aware of that lexical quirk. It's still just... disturbing."
"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it, mate. Their tentacles are incredibly mobile and strong and... flexible..."
Ethan trailed off, momentarily lost in the memory. Oh, yes. That had been a good night.
Giles, meanwhile, was trying to kill his buzz. "Well, yes, that would be because they're designed to be inserted in your ears and nostrils, punch through your skull and secrete chemicals which digest your brain to facilitate the Dectped then sucking it out of your head."
"Actually, they were hunted to near extinction during the industrial revolution and now they mostly suck cow's brains these days, to keep a low profile. It's considered extremely taboo to suck a human's."
"Ah. Nice to know you got to know each other, first."
"Well, it was hardly idle chatter. Whether your partner is going to literally suck your brains out is rather a vital thing to know before engaging in sexual relations."
There was a silence then. Ethan continued to smile, watching Giles toy with his crumpled napkin and look perturbed. He was... cute, for lack of a better word. Especially when, after obviously struggling to let the subject die, he finally gave in and said, "Do Dectpeds even *have* genders?"
Happy to continue the conversation, both to see Giles squirm, and because it was continuing to remind him of the soft, tongue-like tentacle tips, Ethan said, "Three of them, actually. Mine was an egg-layer."
"Ah."
Giles went back to willing the subject away. Ethan waited.
Sure enough, a moment later: "How the hell does one get a Dectped off, anyway?"
"I knew you were going to ask that."
Giles tossed the napkin at him. "Oh, shut up. I'm bored."
Ethan leaned back and resettled his trousers into a slightly more comfortable arrangement.
"Well, if you really want to know..."
"As if I could stop you now?"
"Most likely not."
Giles looked on in horrified fascination.
"Well," Ethan began, leaning in, resting his elbows on that table, "First of all, the tips of their tentacles are incredibly sensitive. And they just love to have them touched, or better yet, to have them inside you. Anywhere. Inside you."
The "horrified" part of the fascination was beginning to wane slightly.
"They love to have them licked, though, more than anything. I think you'd enjoy it, actually. They're into intense physical contact, as well. Gripping you, holding you close. It feels amazing, like being held all over, all warmth and skin... It's like being fucked by five people at once... she was fucking me, stroking me, letting me suck her... all at once. Touching me all over with those tentacles, damp and warm and slick as a human tongue. God, she was amazing..."
He was achingly hard by that point, and Giles was holding perfectly still, his eyes growing dark, his hand frozen, holding his water bottle partway off of the table. Only now, when Ethan paused for breath, their gazes locked, did Giles slowly set the bottle down and rest his hand on the edge of the table.
"Then," Ethan said, smiling slow and dark, "She let me fuck her."
Knowing he had Giles then, by the catch in his breath. Ethan edged just a bit closer, dropped his voice lower.
"You see, the human penis is very similar to the Dectped ovipositor, except that relatively speaking, we humans are quite well-endowed. Some more than others, of course. I had to go slow. It was killing me, the state I was in, with her still fucking me, still clutching me with all those limbs, holding me like she'd die if she let go...
"She was shivering, but begging me not to stop. I have never in my life fucked someone so tight. Felt like at any moment she might just break, but I knew she was stronger than that. Stronger than I could even imagine, gripped around me so hard I was seeing stars.
"And they don't mate that often, you know, with those three genders, it's ever so complicated, and she wanted this to last. Made me hang on as long as I could. Longer. She wrapped one tentacle around my cock and wouldn't let me come. I fucked her for hours. Gods, when she finally let me to come, I swear I nearly passed out. I've never felt like that, not before, not since. Probably never again."
Then he stopped, and the silence fell around them as abruptly as a dropped stone, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other.
Then Giles grated, "Only one way to find out," and they both lunged away from the table fast enough to nearly knock over their chairs and then hit the bed in a squeal of springs, Giles driving down on top of him, hands already fumbling at his shirt, working the buttons with desperate speed that only slowed things down. Ethan gripped Giles hair, didn't let him break their frantic, deep kiss. God, Giles was hot already, thrusting against Ethan with heated desperation--
"Just rip it already," Ethan snapped, shirt be damned, and Giles did, buttons skittering across the sheets and then finally a rough hand on Ethan's chest, rubbing him, pinching his nipples, still too frantic for finesse but that just made it better.
Ethan groaned desperately into Giles' mouth and rammed his hips up against Giles' driving down. Felt teeth catching on lips, tasting the metal of blood, salt and red, and it only drove them higher. Ripper growled, hand shoved into Ethan's pants, rough and with no preamble, gripped his cock and worked him roughly in the confines. Ethan just wailed, rolled his head back, gloried in Ripper's teeth digging into the flesh of his throat, there'd be bruises in the morning and it was perfect, brilliant, dear god, he was going to come, right the fuck now.
"Yes, yes, come for me, want to feel you in my hand, on my hand, come for me," Ripper all but sang against his skin, before sinking his teeth in again, deep, a fire-flash of pain and joy, and Ethan's hips snapped up, that hand still gripping, pumping. Ethan's own hand fluttered uselessly across Ripper's back.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Giles, GODS, yes," he rambled.
So close, so close, Ripper's teeth still clamped on his shoulder in a bulldog grip, and then Ethan saw white and came hard, wet messy good.
Collapsed, exhausted, to the mattress, distantly feeling Giles nuzzling down his bare chest, his bare abdomen, nipping and licking as he went. The ceiling was white and blank, and did nothing to distract from the sensations. Ripper undoing his trousers and yanking them down around his knees, a rough hand cleaning the come off his cock, his stomach. Almost too much stimulation after that orgasm, but even that excess felt good.
"Let me fuck you," Giles said, looking up his body with blazing eyes.
"Yes," Ethan said, and Giles pushed his hip, rolled him over, fingers pushed in, slick with Ethan's own come.
Yes. This was what he'd wanted, this was what he'd missed. Then Ripper's cock, pressing against him, breaching him, and he gasped and shoved back, loving the burn of penetration, the sound of Rupert's deep, male groan.
"Make it hard, Giles, fuck me bloody," he gasped.
The first thrust drove him down flat against the bed, the second seemed to bury him in the mattress, he couldn't stop the cry. Lips nibbled at his shoulder, the spot Ripper had mauled earlier, teasing aching flesh, finding the small hot spot where the skin was broken and worrying at it, sending tiny sparks of pain rushing through him.
Sweating, tangled in too much clothing, his shirt twisted around his elbows like a restrain, his trousers clutching his knees. His face was pressed into the comforter, and his own breath was hot and wet against his cheek. Percussive explosive pressure inside him, every thrust a bomb going off in his brain, driving away everything but *Ripper, Ripper Ripper ripper*
Ripper came too soon, any time would have been too soon, and then they were overheated and panting and curled together on the damp comforter, searching for air and coherence.
"Bloody... hell..." Ethan said.
"Shit," Giles said. Ethan winced as he slid out. "*Shit*."
He pulled Ethan tight against him, Ethan's back to his chest, and nuzzled his warm, stubbled cheek against Ethan's jaw.
"That was--"
"Incredible. Though still not better than the Dectped," Ethan said. Giles' hand wandered about his bare chest.
"Mmmm," Giles said, turned and mouthed Ethan's jaw for a moment before murmuring, "Good enough."
"Indeed."
Giles' lips moved up to his ear, licking, sucking at the lobe and the ring that pierced it. Ethan shivered, and felt his cock twitch. The night was young.
"My god, you feel good," Giles whispered over the dampness he'd painted across Ethan's skin. Ethan pushed himself back, like a cat into a caress, finding the cradling, solid curve of Giles' body there to meet him, to hold him. Bare, soft cock against the cheek of Ethan's arse.
Ethan could only hum in appreciation as Giles' hand continued to wander.
They lay together, twined, touching slowly. Ethan's eyes were closed, too focused on touch and scent and taste to care about seeing. Giles' lips continued to trace damp patterns on his throat, his cheek, his ear, his temple, anywhere Giles could reach. His hand moved in soothing slowness, calming the aftershock shivers. Ethan's heart beat slowly.
When Giles tugged at him, gently, he rolled over onto his back obligingly, watching, feeling, as Giles propped himself up on his elbow and leaned over him. They were tucked together from head to toe, like a single warm organism. Ethan let his eyes shut again as Giles leaned in and kissed him, deeply, slowly.
He toyed with the buttons at the cuff of Giles' shirt, slid his hand up the length of Giles' strong arm. Let his hand come to rest on biceps still nearly as strong as they had been in their youth. Ripper's strength never failed--still didn't fail--to send a flutter of pleasure through his stomach. Loved having a strong man at his mercy, in his arms, against his body. Kissing him, still, their tongues seeming to reacquaint themselves after a much longer absence than was technically accurate.
He opened his eyes for a moment, just to see Ripper's eyes closed, see Ripper's face as he lost himself in their kiss.
Hours. Kissing. Touching. First Giles laying heavily atop him, then him over Giles, sometimes them just lying side by side. Gradually nudging aside and wriggling out of shirts and trousers and pants and socks. Giles tossed his watch towards the side of the bed after it caught and scratched Ethan's side.
Naked skin, two cocks, heavy and hot lying side by side, all but ignored in favor of slow touch. Lips and whispers. Green eyes that he'd seen in his dreams for twenty years, looking into his just like this, dark and liquid and drowsed with sensuality.
Until their hands clasped between them, the cocks they gripped almost an afterthought, and they stroked together as slow and easy as the rest of the night, lips, swollen from kissing, still seeking each other out in the dark, bodies clutched together as close as the lobes of a single mind. The soft grunt and the slick wet of Giles' orgasm swiftly abetting his own, and afterwards, for an untold time, they continued to touch as though it hadn't even happened.
Giles lay spread across the bed, his sweat-damp sides still begging to be touched, tasted.
He was beautiful and he was here, with Ethan. By choice, touching him, holding him. Still, under the sleepy pleasure, there was sadness in Giles, as deep and indelible as a wine stain.
"Giles..." Ethan said, melted against his side, heavy head resting on a sticky-warm shoulder, lips moving against salty skin, "How are you doing?"
A quiet pause, and then, "I don't know."
They made a small concession to hygiene, swiped themselves as clean as possible with one of their shirts, and then got under the covers, lying back to back. Giles switched off the light, and exhaustion pulled Ethan quickly down.
***
He woke again later, the grey light of early dawn faintly touching the wall.
Behind him, he heard a sharp, wet breath. He held still. The mattress carried the small shudders of Giles' sobs.
Ethan shut his eyes, feigned sleep and let Giles have what privacy he could.
tarnished -- part two -- trekker |