Sinful

October 22, 2003
1,300 words

Drabbles fic.

* * *

Part un:

***

Giles knows it’s a sin. It’s not that he doesn’t care about that fact, it’s that he cares too much. He cares too much for a boy who is just that, a boy. Brown eyes and beautiful smile aside.

So when Xander leans over him and presses their lips together, Giles doesn’t stop him. Neither does he stop himself from responding to the kiss or from wrapping his hands around Xander’s torso. He knows it’s a sin. Yet, all he can think of is that were it not a sin, the young lips beneath his own wouldn’t taste as good.

***

Part deux:

***

He knows he shouldn’t be doing this. He knows he could get caught or worse, he knows he could be rejected again. But he can’t stop.

When his lips touch Giles’ and he feels the older man answering to the touch, a weight lifts off his shoulder. He feels Giles’ arms surrounding him and he now knows what heaven feels like. He knows what feeling safe is. He’s in love.

But in the end, Giles pushes him away again and the look in his eyes is enough. Xander nods, hangs his head in resignation and leaves. There’s nothing to say.

***

Part trois:

***

So maybe, just maybe, it was a bad move on his part. Or maybe it’s Giles that’s being dense. There’s no denying the attraction, neither of them even tries, but Giles still denies them the pleasure of basking in it.

Xander hates being told that at 17, he can’t take that kind of decision by himself. He hates being told that he can’t be where he knows he really wants to be. What Xander really wants, is to be old enough to be held in those arms again. So, maybe, just maybe, next month Giles will not reject him again.

***

Part quatre:

***

This is it. The moment of truth. Giles knows that if he ruins this, he’ll never feel the sin of Xander’s lips again. One can only face rejection a few times before giving up.

Candles are lit; warm fire is roaring in the fireplace; blankets are spread on the floor, waiting for warm bodies to cover them. There’s even a bucket of ice with a bottle of fine wine resting on the coffee table.

Nine o’clock on the dot and Giles is waiting by the door, but Xander is nowhere in sight.

Maybe Giles really fucked it up this time.

***

Part cinq:

***

Giles said to be there at nine. Xander isn’t going to be there. He’s gonna give Giles a bit of his own medicine back. Play hard to get.


Though he really wants to go. He’s now officially old enough to be where he wants to be.

Will it be enough for Giles? Is this ‘date’ only a set-up for more rejection? And Xander can’t face that. Not anymore. He’s had too much of it. He needs to be strong. But all he wants is to run into Giles’ arms and never let go ever EVER again. How manly is that?

***

Part six:

***

He’s not going to be there. Giles knows it into his very soul. But he hopes still. He sits on his chair, his eyes riveted to the door, waiting, hoping.

He knows it’s futile.

Giles has never loved anyone like he loves Xander. As he thinks it, he shudders. Even in his own mind he’s being irrational about this. He shouldn’t think of this as love. It can’t be love.

Xander is still a boy and what Giles wanted to do tonight is still very much a sin.

Giles blows out the wavering candles, sits back down and waits. Maybe…

***

Part sept:

***

Xander knows it’s all about Giles being so much older than him. But he doesn’t care. The age difference means nothing to him. It’s only numbers. What’s 25 years when all you get is moments?

But, nothing is ever going to change the fact that Giles sees him as a boy. Xander knows that no amount of growing up would be enough to change that fact. Being 18 doesn’t mean anything.

Or maybe it means everything. And who is Xander to let this chance pass him by? He might be rejected, again, but it’s better than sitting there and *hoping*.

***

Part huit:

***

Giles is teetering on the edge of sleep, trying not to fall. He cannot close his eyes, even though he is exhausted. Dawn is almost there, Giles can see the light starting to shine, but he’s still waiting.

Maybe… there’s no more hope left in Giles’ body. He spent it all during the long night.

What he doesn’t know is that Xander is fidgeting on the other side of the door, a yawn cracking up his face, trying to get the nerves to knock. He’s immensely tired, but he’s been debating this all night. It’s now, or never.

He knocks.

***

Part neuf:

***

The sound brings Giles back to life. For a moment, he’s disoriented. But it lasts only that, a moment. This is what he’s been waiting *hoping* for all night. He gets up and before he knows it, his hand is on the handle. He stops moving.

He’s not sure he’s ready to face Xander yet. All that night of waiting and he’s not ready. Still, he opens the door and stares at the beautiful, if slightly rumpled, young man. Yes, definitely love. Giles feels it deep down, clutching at his heart, urging him to hug Xander close.

Which he does.

***

Part dix:

***

Neither of them knows just how long they stand there, arms wrapped around each other, heads settled on shoulders, eyes closed. The door is still open; Giles can feel the first rays of sunshine on his skin. He thinks of how beautiful Xander must be in that moment, when the first light shines; somehow he can’t bring himself to look.

He’s afraid of what would happen if he did, of what he might see written on Xander’s face. He’s afraid Xander might not be here for the same reasons Giles is.

He keeps his eyes closed and holds on tight.

***

Part onze:

***

“I thought you’d never come.”

Xander can feel Giles’ arms tightening around his body and his voice, barely audible, reaches right into the young man’s soul. A contented sigh escapes him. “I’m right here.” He finally realizes that he shouldn’t be anywhere else; he’s never felt this safe before.

He’s in love.

He opens his eyes and looks straight into Giles’. He needs to know, he needs to see it written in Giles’ eyes, where it can’t be a lie.

And it’s there.

When their lips meet this time, there’s no sparks, no fireworks, just an intense feeling of belonging.

***

Part douze:

***

Nothing is left of the roaring fire but ashes when Giles finally leads Xander into the living room and they settle on the blankets. Giles gathers the younger man between his legs and tightly into his arms.

“I’m never letting you go again.”

“Good.” Pause. Whisper. “Cause I don’t want you to.”

They need to talk about it, about the consequences, what will happen now, how they are going to make it… but they don’t.

Giles reaches for the wine. It’s lukewarm, the ice long melted. He doesn’t care. He pours two glasses and hands one to Xander. “Happy birthday.”

***

Part treize:

***

Giles presses his lips to Xander’s right temple in a show of tenderness that is so unlike him, it makes the younger man shiver. “Giles.” A hoarse moan escapes him and Xander presses deeper into Giles’ embrace.

“Not now.”

“But...!” Xander groans. “I thought…”

Giles shushes him with a kiss. He tastes like wine and sorrow. He’s still afraid; Xander can taste it. Still afraid that Xander’s here only for that reason. So Xander doesn’t say another word. He needs to show Giles that this isn’t about losing his virginity on his eighteenth> birthday.

It’s about love. It always was.

***

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