"Well, if I've ever heard an exit cue, that's it," said Jim. "C'mon, Chief." They said their good-byes and left. Giles followed them down to lock up behind them. When he came back, he paused with his hands on the rail of the staircase, gazing up.

Xander was leaning against the wall at the landing, looking down at him. He smiled, and slowly began unbuttoning his shirt. Giles started quickly up the stairs. He half expected the boy to turn and disappear into the apartment, perhaps with a teasing laugh, but he didn't. When he stood on the landing with him, Xander said, "You were expecting me to make you chase me, right?"

"It had occurred to me."

Xander slipped off his shirt. "Nah. You're not the only one who's been waiting for this." He hung the shirt over Giles face. "Don't expect sobriety, though."

Giles found he was smiling as he pulled off the shirt. "Perish the thought." He reached out and finally, finally touched the boy. He spread his hand flat on Xander's chest, just between the copper nipples. He flexed his fingers, and scratched very lightly. "I'd think you were ill if you were serious for too long."

"Well, I can be serious when I need to be." Xander kept his eyes fixed on Giles' face as he reached down. The older man closed his eyes, sighing as a firm hand cupped over his fly, squeezing. "And I think that this is in need of some serious attention, but," he leaned forward and kissed Giles, lips moving lazily against his mouth, "Giles, old friend, the rug on this landing is too damn thin for me to contemplate kneeling on it for any length of time. Which room are we in?"

"The one on the left," Giles said hoarsely.

"Okay." He turned away, then wiggled his ass. "Follow the bouncing butt."

"With the greatest of pleasure," Giles murmured as the followed Xander into the bedroom. Once they were inside, though, he stopped abruptly, putting a hand to his forehead. "Oh, God."

Xander, sitting on the edge of the bed, looked up from unlacing his boots. "If you tell me that you'll lose your soul if you have sex with me and become a ravening, violent psychopath, I have to tell you--I'm so horny that the trade-off isn't all that intimidating."

"No, no. It's just that I don't have any, er, prophylactics. And I'm afraid that the only thing I can think of that I have for lubrication would be butter."

"How very Last Tango In Paris. I'm not quite advanced enough in sex play to be into using foodstuffs right now, Giles. However, show me a can of Redi-Whip in about a week, and I may surprise you." He reached out and snagged Giles' belt, dragging him over to stand between his spread legs. "Any way, there are a lot more things to do than actual taxidermy."

"Excuse me--taxidermy?" "Stuffing and mounting."

Giles started laughing. He couldn't even stop when Xander slid his hands up under Giles' shirt and found his nipples. The giggles slowed, then faded into a small moan as Xander's slightly rough fingertips caressed him, bringing his nipples to rigid attention. Xander started unbuttoning Giles' shirt from the bottom. When he had it undone halfway, he stuck his head up under it. "Xander, what are you...? Oh, that's nice." A warm, damp tongue was circling his navel. Then it flicked into the shallow cup, making the muscles of Giles' abdomen twitch with the sensation. "Xander, are you going to..."

Xander didn't pull back, keeping his face pressed against Giles' belly, and the long, soft, "Shhhhhh," tickled. But Xander was blindly working at his belt, so Giles happily bit his lip and remained quiet. Xander opened the button, then put his palm flat against Giles' belly, fingers pointed down, and slid his hand down under the waistband. He moved down slowly, and the back of his hand pushed the zipper open as he went. This time there was only a thin layer of cotton between Xander's hand and Giles' increasingly hard prick.

Xander pulled the pants down Giles' thighs, then leaned forward and rubbed his face against the other man's crotch. Giles could feel the warm breath teasing him, and had to resist the urge to just throw Xander over on his back and climb on top of him, but he DID resist. Giles had realized, to his pleased surprise, that they weren't just having sex--he was being seduced--and he liked that idea.

The boy hooked his fingers in the stretch band of Giles' boxers and slowly worked them lower, an inch at a time. When he had them low on the Watcher's hips, with the first line of crisp, brown pubic hair showing at the top, he moved his hands around to the back, then slid them down under the boxers to cup Giles' ass. While he kneaded the firm globes, he began a leisurely tour of the area he'd exposed, nipping at the curve of the hips, and tugging with his teeth at the pubic hair.

Giles' cock continued to stiffen, and began to ooze pre-seminal fluid. Before long there was a widening damp patch on the front of his underwear. He breathed, "Xander, I'm a patient man, but if you don't get down to brass tacks, I may very well be forced to molest you."

"Eek. Well, the best defense is a good offence, so..."

In one smooth move Xander skinned down the boxers and bent and captured the head of Giles' prick in his mouth, all in one smooth motion. "Oh, bloody hell!" Giles breathed.

Xander snorted (a very odd sensation, but not entirely unpleasant), and pulled back a little. "Giles, man, if you make me laugh, this is going to be difficult."

"Xander, I can't guaranty that I won't be making noises or faces that you will find amusing. It's been awhile."

Xander grinned. "I said difficult, I didn't say impossible. You make all the noise you want, and I'll use them as auditory clues."

"Such as?"

"Well, for instance, 'suck my cock' would probably indicate that you wanted your cock sucked." Giles groaned. He lunged forward, hands on Xander's shoulders, and shoved him back onto the mattress falling on top of him. "Hey!"

"You are still semi-clothed, while I am naked, and..."

"Uh-uh. You still have your skivvies around your knees."

Giles kicked. "As I was saying, I'm naked, and you, my friend," his hands slid between their bodies, finding Xander's fly, "are vastly overdressed."

"How rude of me. Please, oh arbiter of social correctness, assist me in my compliance with the rules of being a good guest. Jerk those puppies off."

Giles bent his head, nipping at Xander's throat. "And risk that thing dreaded by all men--skin in the zipper?" There was a purring sound as the zipper was slowly drawn down, then a pop as the snap was opened. "Lift your ass."

"I would, but I'm sort of weighted down, here. I seem to have a librarian on top of me."

"Well, the librarian isn't going anywhere, but he will consent to rearrange himself." Giles shifted till he was on his knees, straddling Xander's thighs. "Now, lift." Xander obeyed, and Giles skinned the jeans down over his hips. "Oh, my."

Xander wiggled his eyebrows. "It's called 'commando'."

Giles reached down, cupping his hand over the boy's erection, squeezing gently. "Did you learn this from Riley?"

Xander chuckled. "Mister Olive Drab? Nah. But I tell ya, Giles," he dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "Buffy aside, I think that ol' Riley might not be entirely unfamiliar with, shall we say, non-regulation maneuvers." He thought a second. "Though I suppose some of that could be wishful thinking." He glanced down his body. "Just an observation, but if you leaned forward, some serious groin contact could be achieved."

"Like this?" Giles lowered himself, bracing his hands on either side of Xander to keep some of his weight off the boy.

Despite this considerate action, a very nice, firm contact was accomplished. Xander sighed voluptuously. "Ooo, I'd say exactly like that." He reached up and grabbed Giles' ass, pulling. Giles' obligingly rocked with the motion, and their hard-ons slid together. They began moving together. Giles' humped against the boy under him in a slow, steady rhythm, and Xander pushed up to meet him. He buried his hands in Giles' hair, pulling him down for a kiss that turned into a prolonged, thorough oral exploration. The older man's breathing had speeded up considerably by the time that Xander let him pull up for air. "Talk to me, G-man."

Giles groaned. "What do you want me to do--recite the bloody Pledge of Allegiance? I'm British, Xander."

"I want you to tell me some of those nice, nasty fantasies you used to have about me."

"You're a vain little bugger, aren't you?" Xander just smiled. "Christ, just when I really need my breath. All right, then. I've lost count of the number of times I've imagined hauling you into the stacks and fucking you against a bookcase until we were both in danger of having our brains bashed out by falling tomes. Then there was that summer you helped with my lawn care, and insisted on wearing nothing but those obscene cut-offs--the ones that looked like they'd been painted on, and were so short that I was certain you weren't wearing underwear. I kept hoping you'd squat down to do something. I was sure that a ball would escape..."

Xander laughed in surprise, and now HE was sounding a little ragged. "My mom walloped me for daring to be seen in public in those. Said I'd make the whole town think they neglected me. I said why would they think that just because I had to wear shit that was basically a size too small and ready to fall apart? She walloped me again for that, but she gave me a few bucks to buy a new pair of jeans."

"Damn the woman. I nearly cried when you showed up in those crisp new Levis." His thrusts became stronger and faster. He let his full weight rest on Xander *He's a sturdy boy, he won't mind*, and grabbed Xander's hips, pressing his ass down to the mattress.

Xander now couldn't move--he had to just lie there and experience. As Giles had expected, it drove him crazy. "Leggo, Giles! Dammit, I wanna move!"

"You were shirtless, and I thought about asking you inside to rest, for a soda, or something. I thought about how your nipples would probably pucker when the air-conditioning cooled the sweat on your skin. Then I could offer to let you use my shower, wait until you were under the spray, then strip off and join you."

Xander was staring up at him, round-eyed. "Oh, damn--that old saw about it's always the quiet ones who are wild inside is true!"

Giles grunted, pushing against Xander sharply, and came. His balls drew up tight, and he spilled jets of warm come on the boy's heaving belly. The moment his ejaculation died to a dribble, Giles slid off Xander's body, down until he was kneeling between Xander's widespread, dangling legs. He bent forward and swallowed Xander's rigid prick, sucking strongly. Xander whooped and tried to sit up, but his hips were bucking helplessly, and he couldn't quite achieve the necessary co-ordination.

Sex with Cordelia and Anya had been fine, with Oz it had been really good, and with Jim and Blair it had been great, wonderful, terrific--but this... This was abso-fucking-lutely mind blowing. He's sort of fallen into his other sexual relations, but he'd been thinking about Giles for a long time--practically since he had first seen the cool, handsome Englishman in the Sunnydale High Library. The possibility of ever having sexual contact with him had never occurred to the teenager--Giles just seemed completely out of reach--and he'd been happy to have him as a sort-of mentor and friend. He'd told himself that was enough--that was plenty. But after tonight, he knew damn good and well he wasn't going to be able to think that any more. He wouldn't be able to be around Giles without remembering the hot, wet suction enveloping his throbbing cock, the flick of a wickedly knowledgeable tongue against his sensitive glans, and oh, dear God he was--swallowing! Xander came with a howl that would have been worthy of Oz under a full moon.

Giles didn't immediately release his prize. Swallowing was a rather moot point, considering how deeply Xander's prick was in his throat when the boy came. When the warm pulse of liquid died, Giles eased the softening cock to a more shallow position, but didn't give it up. He continued to nurse and lick, enjoying the variety of flavors and textures, while Xander's gasps slowed to normal breathing. When Giles was done, Xander's once again limp prick was clean and damp.

Giles crawled back on the bed, snagging several tissues from the box on his nightstand, and wiped the cooling spunk off Xander's abdomen. The boy lay quietly, watching him. Giles tossed the soiled tissues into the wastebasket and said, "If you're anything like me, you'd rather not move, but I think we'd both like to get into the bed, rather than on it."

"Okay, but if my legs don't hold me, be ready to catch."

"Flatterer." Xander got up, and Giles pulled down the cover, and the sheets.

They got back in, and Xander moved up close beside him. "Mind? I've discovered that I like to snuggle after sex. Cordelia and Anya were touch-me-nots in bed if there wasn't actual sex involved, and Oz... That dude has some seriously sharp toenails, even when he isn't moving into his phase."

"I don't mind at all." Giles pulled Xander into his arms, settling the boy's head on his shoulder. Giles hadn't been close to that many people in his life--the Council did not encourage intimate relations--and he'd found that he craved intimacy on all it's many levels--both emotional, and physical. With Xander he could have the latter, and who knew? Perhaps the former, as well.

Angelus stood staring at the door, listening to the soft murmur of voices, then turned and moved silently back down the hall. Sex was apparently over for the night, and he had no interest in listening to pillow talk in the afterglow. It might have provided him with information that would be useful later, but he already had plenty of emotional blackmail material, and besides--the main reason he'd come upstairs had been to be amused, and he'd certainly accomplished that.

He concentrated on getting down to the ground floor noislessly, but once he was there he was fairly confident that he wouldn't be detected by the sex sated pair upstairs. He paused, gazing back up the staircase, and reached down to give the bulge in his fly a thoughtful squeeze. He'd always been sure that Harris could be a hot little slut, given the right incentive, but he had to admit that the Watcher had rather surprised him. *I think that Ripper is a little closer to the surface than Giles would like to believe,* he thought, amused. *Harris would certainly be his meat.* Angelus smiled, teeth glinting in the dim streetlight that filtered through the shop's windows. *Mine, too.*

The temptation to go back, kick in the door, break the Watcher's back, and then rape the boy right beside him on the bed was strong. Wouldn't that be rich? It was obvious from what he'd heard that Giles was at least half in love with Xander already, and violating and torturing a loved one in front of a victim afforded such a variety of pleasures.

He shook his head. No, not tonight--but he'd keep it in mind. He was enjoying the cat-and-mouse game far too much to end it prematurely. But that reminded him--if he wanted a little more time, precautions had to be taken.

He rummaged in the office supplies and located a tube of Superglue. He'd managed to slip away undetected earlier in the evening, and had sabotaged the upstairs telephone by removing the plastic casing from the wall plug-in and ripping up the wires before replacing it. The phone wouldn't work, but there was no obvious reason why. Now, humming to himself, he unplugged the jack from the back of the phone. He squirted a dab of glue into the socket, then plugged the jack back in and held it a moment. He depressed the clip, and tugged experimentally. It stayed stuck firm. He lifted the receiver and listened. No dial tone. Nodding in satisfaction, he hung up and put away the glue. That took care of here.

He'd probably have to cut the wires at the pole at Buffy's but that wasn't really a problem. Neither was Oz, since he didn't have a telephone. As for Spike--he seriously doubted that anyone would bother to notify his childe of anything out of the ordinary. Spike still wasn't fully accepted as 'one of them'. Pity for the Scoobies--Spike was the one person outside the Slayer herself that Angelus considered a real obstacle.

He debated whether or not he should bother with the witchs, but decided against it. He knew that they kept an unlisted number, and he'd been very careful to destroy all records of it before he'd left Los Angelas. Cordelia was the only one who might have it memorized. He chuckled nastily. *And she isn't going to be in any shape to do anything about it for a long time.* He sauntered down to the basement, anticipating a nice, leisurely session of jerking off while he considered the vast range of opportuinities laid out before him.