Title: Best. Game. Ever.
Author: Mireille
E-mail: archivesNOSPAM@afternoonsandcoffeespoons.org
Pairing: Giles/Xander/Wesley
Rating: FRAO
Spoilers: BtVS through S4; AtS through S1
Disclaimer: The Buffyverse belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, not to me.
Summary: There's alcohol. There's truth or dare. There's a threesome. You don't need to know anything else.
People should not take him seriously, Xander decided, taking a nervous swallow from his bottle of very-illegal-for-him-to-be-drinking beer that didn't taste anything like the beer he'd occasionally drunk before now. Of course, Giles would have weird English beer. He was English.
And, at the moment, weird. Or at least drunk, which looked like about the same thing, and led to Giles actually giving his suggestions some consideration. At least, one suggestion, the one that hadn't actually been serious in the first place. The one that led to Giles looking over at Wesley and saying, with a very self-satisfied-looking grin, "Dare, I think."
Xander took another drink of his beer. He had the feeling that if this afternoon was going to make any sense at all, he needed at least a little more alcohol in his system. He was on his second beer, which was more than he usually ever drank, but it was definitely not enough.
What he needed, to be honest, was to have not come over here looking for Willow. But Willow had been over here a lot this summer, helping Giles with indexing and cataloguing and other things that had sounded too much like actual work for Xander to want to help with, and he'd needed to talk to her. He and Anya had had a huge fight that morning, and while he was sure it really was at least partly his fault, he didn't know what he'd done. He needed Willow to translate Girl into English for him, so he'd know what it was he was apologizing for.
Willow hadn't been there. Wesley had, though, which had been his first surprise of the day. The second was that Wesley and Giles seemed to be getting along better than Xander had ever seen before, and the third was that Giles had invited him to pull a chair over and sit down.
Nobody had pointed out that he was, technically, not old enough to be drinking beer, but that wasn't as much of a surprise. In his experience, once people weren't exactly sober themselves, they got a lot less concerned about what other people were doing. And it wasn't like he was planning to drink a lot, because he wasn't that stupid. Unlike some people in the room who were technically adults.
Despite the surprises, Xander hadn't started suspecting they were alien pod people until Wesley had run out of demon-fighting-in-L.A. stories, and somehow the conversation had turned to what they should do next. Xander had been joking when he suggested Truth or Dare, but they'd taken him seriously. That was when he'd been convinced that either they really were pod people, or the half-empty bottle of Scotch on the table wasn't the first bottle of the day.
The first couple of rounds had been mostly boring; everyone had picked "truth," and the questions had been no big deal. But now it was Wesley's turn to pick someone, and Giles had asked for a dare.
Xander prepared himself for something lame--most dares were, and anyway, Wesley was thinking it up. Wesley took off his glasses and set them down on the end table before smiling back at Giles. "Kiss me."
Xander frowned. "You know, I think you're supposed to be daring him to kiss somebody el--" He shut up, realizing who the only "somebody else" in the room was. And then he stared, because Giles slid over on the couch without any hesitation, pushing Wesley against the back of the couch with one hand and leaning in to kiss him. Xander would be willing to bet that they'd done this before, because in his experience, truth-or-dare kisses involved a lot more reluctance and a lot less of Wesley taking advantage of the fact that Giles was half-kneeling on the couch and reaching around to grab his ass.
And then he stared some more, because even though he didn't plan to ever admit it to anyone, this was kind of hot.
Giles finally pulled away, and Xander thought Wesley moaned a little in protest. Xander couldn't really blame him, either. While Wesley put his glasses back on and Giles was calmly refilling his glass as though nothing at all had happened, Xander tried to remember how to breathe in and out. It was a lot trickier than he'd always thought.
"It's your turn, Rupert," Wesley said, and Xander told himself that the first-name thing ought to have been a clue something weird was going on.
"Very well, then," Giles said, and if he hadn't still been smoothing down his hair and breathing a little rapidly, Xander would have thought they were back in the high school library, and Giles was about to start talking about their latest delivery from the Apocalypse of the Month Club. "Xander, truth or dare?"
Dare, he thought for a fleeting second, but there was no way he was going to say that, not with that last dare still fresh in his mind. "Truth," he said firmly. Truth would be good. He had no secrets. Well, no secrets that anyone was going to think to ask him about, anyway.
Giles smiled. Xander refused to think of it as a leer, because Giles was safe and librarian-y and not at all the leering type, no matter what it looked like right now. "You enjoyed watching that, didn't you?"
He gulped. "Can I forfeit this round?"
"Of course." Giles moved over to the end of the couch so that he could speak right into Xander's ear. "I'm certain I could think of some fitting penalty."
"Uh, never mind," he said immediately. Part of him wanted to know what Giles would think of, but that was the part he really shouldn't let do his thinking for him anyway.
"If you're certain."
Xander wasn't certain of anything except that Giles had found the exact tone of voice to bypass Xander's brain altogether and go straight to his hormones, but he nodded.
"You enjoyed that," Giles repeated. "Watching me kiss Wesley. Didn't you?"
Xander nodded again. There really didn't seem to be a whole lot of point in denying it.
"That's not an answer," Giles said, and fuck, there was that tone again.
He swallowed hard. "Yes."
"Yes--?"
Xander almost blurted out, "Yes, sir," but he managed to stop himself before he had to change his name and move to Guadalajara. "Yeah. I liked it." He looked over at Wesley, shrugging apologetically. He didn't know what you were supposed to say to someone you hardly knew when you'd just admitted that you got turned on watching him kiss another guy.
Not that he knew anything about what was going on right now. Right at the moment, his money was on weird demonic sex mojo. That could happen, right? Okay, most of the demons they'd run into had more evil things to do than this, but maybe it was a slow day.
Wesley didn't look like he wanted an apology; he looked pleased, and so did Giles. They were both giving him approving smiles, and Xander just wanted to know what he had to do to get them to keep looking at him like that. And was that ever a thought he hadn't expected to find himself thinking. Definitely demon sex mojo.
"It's your turn," Giles said, just like the entire fabric of reality wasn't unraveling around them.
Xander considered choosing Giles, but figured there was just no way he was going to be able to actually ask Giles to do any of the stuff in his head. Wesley, though...maybe. Wesley was only partly turning his brain to mush. So far.
He managed a shaky grin. "Okay, yeah. Wesley. Truth or dare?"
"Truth," Wesley said, and Xander frowned. He'd been all set for "dare." He'd been prepared for "dare." He'd been looking forward to "dare."
And Wesley had to go and screw it up. "Truth?" he repeated, taking another drink of his beer and scowling when Wesley nodded. "Okay, then, truth. Is it just a coincidence that you go after everybody I like? 'Cause if you're working toward a plan, I think you should know I have a girlfriend. She told me this morning she doesn't want to ever see me again, so you might want to call her now before we make up."
It took three long seconds before Xander actually realized what he'd said, three seconds in which Wesley and Giles were both staring at him in what Xander hoped was complete incomprehension. Then he got up, carried his half-full beer bottle out to the kitchen, and poured it down the sink. There were way more reasons than just not wanting to turn out like his dad why drinking was a bad, bad thing.
He went back out to the living room, sitting down just like he hadn't just shoved both feet in his mouth all the way up to the hip. "That wasn't my question," he said. "That was...I don't know what it was, but that wasn't my question."
Giles and Wesley looked at one another for a few seconds before Wesley nodded. "All right, Xander, what's the question?"
The trouble was, he couldn't really think of one after that. He shrugged. "What are you even doing here?" he asked, finally.
Wesley looked a little surprised that Xander had chosen something that innocuous, but said, "I needed to borrow a book, and as I'd wanted to get away from Los Angeles for a few days, I thought I'd come here rather than asking Rupert if he'd mind sending it to me."
"Which I would have," Giles said. "Minded, that is. I lost too many of my books last year to risk another one."
Xander noted that "and I thought there would be making out on the couch" wasn't part of Wesley's explanation, but he wasn't going to argue with that answer. Maybe Wesley hadn't expected it, and this had been a day full of surprises for everyone. Maybe it really was some weird spell at work. "Yeah, all right."
Wesley, predictably, picked Giles. What wasn't so predictable was what he did when Giles again chose "dare." He looked over at Xander for a long moment, long enough that Xander started getting a little uncomfortable. Because, of course, things had been so comfortable up to now.
"I believe," Wesley said finally, "that Xander's feeling a bit left out of the proceedings. I dare you--" and he paused for a moment, with a smile that made Xander wonder if he really did know how bizarre this whole situation was-- "to do something about that."
This was getting seriously weird. "It's okay," Xander argued. "I'm not left out at all. It's fine. Everything's fine." When Giles got up and came to stand right in front of his chair, though, Xander stopped protesting and let Giles pull him to his feet.
"Tell me if you want me to stop," Giles said, and Xander shook his head.
Then it occurred to him that the head-shaking might have looked like "No, don't do this," instead of "No, it's okay, don't stop," and he figured he should probably come up with some words to clarify that. But Giles was apparently good at figuring out what he meant, because he was already kissing Xander.
Xander took back everything he'd ever said about the taste of Scotch, dating all the way back to kindergarten when he'd sneaked a taste from one of the glasses left in his parents' living room. In a glass, maybe it was still gross; he wasn't going to bother to find out. But he could taste traces of liquor in Giles' mouth as they kissed, and that wasn't a bad thing at all.
Not that anything could really be bad about this, not with Giles' tongue stroking against his and one of Giles' hands resting at the small of his back, warm and heavy and sliding downward until.... okay, he was used to strange stuff happening, but not anything as strange as Giles feeling him up while Wesley watched from the couch. Scarier things, maybe, but not weirder.
Then Giles stepped back, returning to the couch and looking over at Wesley. "I trust that was all right?"
"Oh yeah," Xander said, sinking back down onto his chair, at the same time that Wesley spoke.
"Quite satisfactory." Wesley looked a little flushed, even if he'd only been sitting on the couch watching.
Sheepishly, Xander said, "Oh. You were asking him." It wasn't like he hadn't made it perfectly obvious that it had been okay with him, after all.
"I was asking both of you," Giles said, and Xander was a little bit glad, even if this was just a stupid party game that nobody would be playing if they were sober. Never mind that he mostly was. "And now it's my turn," he went on. Xander leaned forward a little, deciding that if Giles picked him, he'd choose "dare," and wondering what Giles would ask him to do.
The wondering was enough of a distraction that it took Xander a minute to realize that Giles must have chosen Wesley, because Wesley had come over to Xander's chair, looking down at him expectantly.
Xander just sat there for a moment, looking back at him. Kissing Giles, that was one thing, but Wesley? He didn't even like Wesley. Except that Wesley had been decent today, almost a different guy than he'd been last year when he'd tried to be Buffy's Watcher. And it had looked like Wesley wasn't half bad at the kissing thing.
Unlike Giles, Wesley waited for Xander to stand up on his own, then smiled at him. Xander hoped his answering grin was suave and man-of-the-world enough. He thought about being the one to lean in and kiss Wesley, just to prove a point about how cool he was with all of this, but he figured it might screw up Wesley's dare.
Then Wesley kissed him, and Xander was finally convinced that this wasn't just some sort of bizarre dream. He didn't think his imagination would have gone to the trouble of making the kisses so different. Wesley's kiss was more coaxing, urging Xander to part his lips and give Wesley access to his mouth. Then again, he hadn't just confessed to the entire world that he had a thing for Wesley--even if he was thinking that was an oversight on his part--so maybe he was a little less sure that Xander would want to kiss him.
The second time something like this happened in an afternoon, Xander thought, was no less weird than the first. Still not bad, though, and this time he was the one whose arms went around Wesley. If they were all going to wake up tomorrow with the knowledge that some demon had made them do this, he at least wanted to remember having enjoyed it.
"What demon?" Wesley asked, and Xander cringed. That had been out loud. Whoops.
"There's got to be some kind of explanation for this," he said, wishing he hadn't said anything at all.
"Isn't this how the game is played?" Giles said.
Yeah, sure, if you were thirteen, which none of them had been for a long time. Okay, then, no demons. It was the Scotch. And the one and a half bottles of beer. And maybe they were all going to be sorry about this in the morning--well, no. Xander wasn't going to be sorry. And it had been the others' idea, so maybe they wouldn't be, either.
Xander started to sit back down, but Wesley shook his head. "I hadn't finished my dare," he said, and maybe Xander could see the point Willow had tried to make once about guys with accents. At the time, all it had meant was that he and Jesse had gone around for days talking to her in ridiculous fake accents, but... yeah. He was so not telling her this. She'd never believe him anyway. He wasn't even sure he believed him.
Wesley kissed him again, slow and drawn out and the glide of Wesley's tongue past his teeth and over his palate almost too much for Xander to stand. He could have more than this, he thought; he was free to bite and lick and suck at Wesley's lower lip, free to let his hand slide down Wesley's side and hip and upper thigh, exploring the unexpected muscle he felt under Wesley's clothing. It was all part of the game, after all, and so was the way Giles was watching them, intent and focused.
Then Giles cleared his throat, or maybe chuckled, and said, "Yes, thank you, Wesley, that'll do."
Wesley raised an eyebrow, giving Giles a look that apparently meant something if you were British or at least half-drunk or maybe both, and sat back down on the couch. Xander sat down again, looking at the two of them. Maybe now that everybody had kissed everybody, someone would declare the game over.
"Xander," Wesley said.
Or maybe not. "Um." Dare, he wanted to pick dare, wanted to be given the chance to touch someone again, and soon, or else he was going to have to leave and find someplace a little more private. But then again, he didn't know what Wesley would ask him to do. "Truth," he said, finally.
Wesley and Giles exchanged another look that Xander would have appreciated subtitles for, and then Wesley said, "Do you want this to stop?"
He thought about saying yes, because all of this could be chalked up to a couple of drunk ex-Watchers and a dumb party game. But if they didn't stop....
What if they didn't? he argued with himself. Anya had told him she never wanted to see him again--and okay, once Willow explained to him in just what way he'd been a complete idiot, he'd be able to make it up to her, but at the moment, there was no reason why he couldn't do anything he wanted. And, well... he wanted. Which was not a totally new thing, and he was extremely grateful that Giles and Wesley were pretending they hadn't heard that from him earlier.
"No," he said finally, trying to sound casual. "I'm good. And I pick Giles. Truth or dare?" He bit his lip, trying to telepathically urge Giles to make the right choice.
"I think I'll stay with 'dare.' It's worked out well so far," Giles said, and Xander grinned. The telepathy worked.
His voice didn't, not quite; it sounded just a little nervous as he said, "You and Wesley. Uh, what you were doing earlier."
"One day, someone's going to give me something challenging," Giles muttered, but then he pulled Wesley over to him, and Xander stopped caring whether Giles liked the dare or not, because he did.
Oh, god, did he ever. Not as much as he would have liked being part of it, but this way he didn't have to choose between them, could just sit back and watch them both, as Wesley moved away from Giles' mouth, lips dragging along the line of Giles' jaw and up to his ear, as his hands fumbled with Giles' clothing.
Giles caught Wesley's hands, stilling them. "Not yet," he said, when Wesley murmured a protest.
Xander thought he might want to protest himself, because watching the two of them had left him shifting uncomfortably in his seat, his hands curled at his sides because he was not going to do anything about how hard he was, not out here where they could see him.
And of course, Giles had seen him, because of course you never turned invisible when you wanted to, and the smile Giles gave him was equal parts empathy and amusement and something he couldn't quite identify but wanted to see a lot more of.
"Come over here," Giles said, patting the space on the couch between him and Wesley. There wasn't a lot of space, even after Wesley slid over a couple of inches. When Xander didn't move, Giles grinned again and added, "I dare you."
Xander wondered why he'd ever thought of Giles as safe. This was not safe. This was the anti-safe. This was world-tilted-on-its-side kind of un-safe. On the other hand, he figured only his sanity was in danger here, which was a nice change from most of his life. "That's not how the game goes," he said, squeezing between the two of them and sitting down.
"Then we should change games," Giles said. Giles' hand was on his thigh; his brain stopped wondering what was going on long enough to point out that he really liked that. And then to add, a moment later, that he liked the way Wesley's hand felt against his chest, too.
If this wasn't a spell or a demon, then it was obviously a dream, and one that he'd be waking up from sometime soon. This was definitely not real, because this stuff did not happen in real life. It happened in letters that started out "Dear Penthouse Forum," but not in real life. And if this were Penthouse, there'd be a girl around somewhere.
There wasn't a girl. There was Giles, his breath hot on Xander's ear, his teeth sharp on Xander's earlobe as he bit down just hard enough to make Xander groan; and there was Wesley, whose mouth was on Xander's neck and whose hand had left his chest and was now moving steadily up Xander's inner thigh, but there wasn't any girl. And Xander...was pretty much okay with that, as long as nobody stopped what they were doing.
It didn't bother him at all when Giles and Wesley stopped paying as much attention to him, leaning past him to kiss one another, because they were right there and they were still touching him and oh, god, he was apparently a sick, sick person, because he wanted both of them, right now.
Wesley murmured something in his ear, words he couldn't make out though the tone got through perfectly. Wesley's hand had made it all the way up his thigh now, and Xander whimpered, his hips jerking forward in an attempt to press against Wesley's hand.
For a minute, he thought he'd done something wrong, because Wesley raised his head, looking over at Giles. "Dare," he murmured, and Xander almost protested that it wasn't Wesley's turn.
"Oh, I think you should," Giles said.
"Should what? What's going on?" Xander asked, but they both just smiled at him, and then Wesley....
Okay, he might not have a vast amount of experience with being seduced by two people at once, but he couldn't think of too many explanations, beyond the obvious, for why Wesley would be on his knees in front of the couch, surprisingly deft fingers undoing Xander's jeans and freeing Xander's dick from his boxers.
And then there was Wesley's mouth on him, hot and wet, and Xander closed his eyes and just let it happen. The surprising part wasn't that what Wesley was doing to him felt good; he wasn't a moron, and "blow jobs feel good" was basic information. It was that Wesley was actually doing it to him in the first place, for one thing, and for another, he was good at it. Xander got a mental image of Wesley practicing on Giles, and oh, god, he hoped he'd be lucky enough to be around to see that if it happened again.
Giles kissed him, his hand cupping Xander's face, and as he pulled away, he rubbed his thumb lightly over Xander's lower lip. Xander didn't even think about what he was doing, just parted his lips, sucking the thumb into his mouth and trying to mimic what Wesley was doing. When he did, he could hear Giles breathe in sharply, and Xander decided to take that as a sign that he was doing something right.
Xander opened his eyes to see Giles' other hand tangling in Wesley's hair, cupping the back of his head and holding him in place, and Xander decided that he liked that. Nobody had to be left out.
Wesley's hand wrapped around the base of Xander's erection, and that was even better; now he had the movement of Wesley's hand to go along with the slide of Wesley's lips over and around his dick, the pressure of Wesley's tongue against him. He felt like he'd been hard for weeks, even though he knew it hadn't really been long at all, and he gripped the edge of the couch, just trying to hold off for a little while longer. He didn't want this to end.
Wesley's tongue pressed hard against a vein, and his hand moved faster at the base of Xander's dick, and Xander slumped back against the couch and lost himself in the sensation. Giles' thumb slipped out of his mouth, but it was just too much effort to try to recapture it, especially when a few seconds later, Giles leaned in and kissed him, hard, stifling Xander's cries as he came.
He didn't open his eyes again until he felt Wesley rejoining them on the couch. Giles leaned past him to kiss Wesley, and Xander was perfectly content to just watch. "I think we should go upstairs," Giles said, in that low, husky voice that Xander hadn't ever heard from him before today.
Upstairs. They were going upstairs, and leaving him down here, and suddenly Xander remembered that no matter what had happened, he'd obviously been interrupting something private. "I, uh. I'll let myself out," he offered.
"You're coming with us," Giles told him firmly, and Xander grinned.
"Pun intended?" he asked, just to see Giles give him a very familiar exasperated look.
"It does seem possible," Wesley said, and now it was his turn to kiss Xander. Xander could taste himself on Wesley's tongue, and then it struck him that Giles must have been able to, as well. After that particular thought, even if they had wanted him to go home, he didn't think he'd have been able to make himself.
Giles snagged the bottle from the coffee table before leading the way up the narrow staircase. Xander paused to do up his jeans, letting Wesley go up next, because that would probably--he hoped--minimize the amount of time he was going to spend standing around looking like an idiot.
When he got to the top of the stairs, he looked around--it wasn't like he'd wandered around this part of Giles' apartment before--and realized there was really nowhere for him to be. Except the bed, of course, which looked like it had been made in a hurry, blankets pulled up without anyone worrying about whether they smoothed out the wrinkles or not.
It dawned on Xander that Wesley had probably already been here for a day or two, and he flushed, feeling like he was intruding. He backed up, leaning against the railing that surrounded the loft and trying not to look over at the bed.
Easier said than done, though, because the bed was in the same direction as Wesley and Giles, and he couldn't not look at them, at frantic kisses and hands fumbling with clothing and then at Giles, leaning back on the bed and looking up at Wesley--at both of them.
"Changed your mind, Xander?" Giles asked.
Xander shook his head quickly, though he didn't come any closer, either. "I'm good here," he said. Maybe he wouldn't stay here, but right this minute, he didn't think moving was that great of a plan. It wasn't like he was that confident about doing this when only two people were involved, let alone three.
But the watching, that he could do, dry-mouthed as Wesley shrugged a little and went to the bed, letting Giles roll a condom down over his erection. They were both hard, both reaching for one another hungrily--and the way they both looked over at Xander made it clear that they wouldn't mind if he went over to join them.
It was more than a little weird to see Giles like this, Xander thought after a little while, to watch him sweating and clutching at the blankets and twisting as Wesley pushed slick fingers inside him. "Damn it, Wesley," he snapped, finally, "I'm ready," and Xander grinned, because that sounded just the way Giles always did when his patience was wearing thin.
Wesley laughed, and Xander shook his head. When did Wesley start acting like a normal person, anyway? Ignoring the part where he didn't think this was the kind of thing most normal people did. At least, not that Xander knew of.
And then Xander couldn't stay where he was, because Giles' legs were on Wesley's shoulders and Wesley was thrusting into Giles and oh. god. Wesley was fucking Giles. Xander didn't think he'd ever seen anything so hot in his life, and Anya knew where to rent the really good porn.
Xander didn't undress all the way, but his shoes and his suddenly too-tight jeans got left on the floor on the way over to the bed. He tripped over one of Wesley's shoes, windmilling his arms for a minute before regaining his balance, because he wasn't going to look away from what was happening, from the curl of Wesley's lip on each thrust and the way Giles' fists clenched and unclenched around the blanket.
He didn't have any plan of what he was going to do, just lay down on the bed, grinning when Giles looked at him. "I got bored," he said. Giles took Xander's hand then, guiding it to his dick, which was hot and hard and leaking and oh, okay, Xander liked the way that felt in his hand, not to mention the way Giles groaned when Xander tried an experimental stroke.
He looked up at Wesley. "I'm not--is it okay if...."
Wesley nodded, just as Giles said, "Yes"--still with that impatient tone--and Xander thought his answering grin was probably a little smug. "Truth or Dare?" he murmured, his mouth pressed against Giles' skin. "So the best game ever."
Then he stopped talking, because Giles was arching up into his hand as Wesley's thrusts became faster. Wesley gripped Xander's shoulder, squeezing it tightly as he came. Then his hand slipped down to cover Xander's, and Xander liked that, too, that both of them were touching Giles--faster now, until Giles cried out and Xander's hand was hot and sticky and that really ought to be gross, but right now it just... wasn't.
He did wipe his hand on the edge of the blanket, which he'd expect Giles to kill him for, except that Giles wasn't in much shape to notice what he was doing right at the moment. When he looked up again, Wesley was half-collapsed on Giles' chest, and Xander slid close to Giles' side, his arm thrown over both of them, and that was weirdly good, too.
"We are definitely doing that again once I catch my breath," he said.
Wesley sighed. "Actually, I'm going to need to head back to Los Angeles tonight, after I get some sleep," he said. "Duty calls."
"Oh," Xander said, and if someone had told him this morning that he was going to be seriously disappointed that he wasn't going to be having sex with Wesley Wyndham-Pryce again, he'd have wondered whether they'd been smoking something.
Wesley chuckled. "I'm sure I'll be back, Xander. Rupert has a number of books that I don't, and... I do need to get away, sometimes."
"Whenever you like; my schedule is rather light these days," Giles said. "Though neither of you needs to wait for an invitation."
Huh. That was something he was going to have to think about--a lot--but he'd do that later. Right now, Xander just curled closer to them both, closing his eyes.
Best. Game. Ever.