tamingthemuse | Fic: Tough Lover, Giles/Xander, BtVS, Prompt #7

Last weeks entry was a departure for me so back to the evil. Enjoy! *g*

Title: Tough Lover
Pairing: Giles/Xander
Prompt: #7 - The early bird catches pneumonia
Rating: Mature/Adults Only
Spoilers: BtVS Season Five, episode "Tough Love".
Warnings: Manipulation and insanity.
Summary: Giles is taking care of Xander after Glory scrambled his brain. But what kind of care is he giving?
Author's Note: Some of Xander's dialogue is taken from Tara's insane babblings from the episode "Tough Love", hence the title of the fic.

Tough Lover

Giles watched as Xander sat in the corner, the young boy rocking back and forth, slowly scratching at the paint on the hall. It hurt the Watcher's heart to see the boy like this, once so full of life and wit, now trapped within the confines of his scrambled mind.

The Englishman wasn't sure what had caused Glory to attack Xander, but the hell god had reached inside the boy's head and practically turned his brain inside out. Now he secreted away inside the Watcher's flat, hiding from the world and the creatures that would take advantage of his delicate condition.

As Xander rocked, he whispered to himself, "It's dirty. It's all dirty. And all over me."

Giles had heard this before. The trauma-induced insanity was intriguing to the learned man. The madness seemed to come in waves, the moments of lucidity few and far between but they were there. Xander often scratched his skin, trying to rid his flesh of invisible invaders or hit his head against the wall to quiet the voices inside.

"Dirty. Dirty. I'm bad. Bad."

Babbling was certainly not uncommon. The boy had always talked incessantly about things that Giles rarely understood, or acknowledged that he had. But now, the words that flowed from the boy's mouth were nothing more than a jumble of unrelated phrases and sounds. Other times, Xander seemed to be channeling Glorificus herself.

Out of fear for Dawn, Giles had begun to wonder if keeping Xander around was a liability. Could the hell god see through Xander's eyes, hear through Xander's ears, read the jumbled thoughts in Xander's scrambled mind?

"I-i-it has to be verified, of course. Anyone can tell you that. Of course. Of course."

Giles watched as Xander moved from picking at the paint on the wall to picking at the threads of his worn t-shirt. Idly, he entertained the thought that perhaps Xander would be better if he were put out of his misery. It was not the first time the Watcher had considered administering mercy for the boy's sake. It was a chilling thought but Giles was the Watcher, the adult, the one responsible for Buffy and by relation, Dawn. He debated with himself that Xander wouldn't want to live this way, lost in his own mind. The boy was proud and this kind of humiliation would devastate him if he ever retained his faculties.

So one night, not long after Xander began to stay with Giles, the Englishman decided to give the boy a decent ending. He was watching Xander sleeping fitfully in his nest of blankets and pillows on the floor next to the Watcher's bed. The boy refused to be left alone at night, often whimpering and crying until fingers combed through his unruly sable locks, the petting calming him like a spooked pet.

Fingers clutched and released something only in Xander's mind and pity came over Giles. Quietly, he reached for the pillow behind his head. Giles then slid out of bed and knelt over the boy, straddling his chest to hold him immobile, before pressing the pillow against the sleeping boy's face.

Slowly, Xander began to wake. The struggling had surprised Giles. He'd figured the boy was too far gone to retain his survival instinct, but the boy fought hard, shouting into the fluff pressed against him. Suddenly, Xander had stopped struggling and reached for his mentor and friend. Rough fingers stroked gently, asking, begging Giles for his life.

Confused, the Watcher had removed the pillow, staring down into lucid, tear-filled hazel eyes.

"I'm so sorry," Xander whispered quietly. "I'll be good, Giles. I'm trying. Don't. Please. Just don't lose me."

Shocked into silence, Giles had simply nodded before standing and climbing back into his bed. He was even more surprised when the boy followed. Xander had curled his body around the older man's, latching on like a frightened child clinging to a parent after a nightmare. At first, Giles had tried to resist but it only agitated the boy more and it felt good to have a warm body in his bed again, so he allowed it.

He had started to drift off when warm fingers drifted below the waistband of Giles' boxers. His eyes flew open and locked with Xander's.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"Good boys get to stay. Stay and play. I'm a good boy. Good boy."

Xander was stroking him now, his erection hard and heavy, needing to be touched by this boy and his insanity. As Xander touched him, squeezing and stripping him with sure and steady strokes, Giles rationalized that Xander needed this, wanted this, whether he was in his right mind or not.

As he jerked and shot over the boy's insistent fingers, Giles reasoned with himself that it would have been wrong to try and stop him.

Two nights later, the compulsion would rise over the Watcher again as he sat at his dinning room table watching as Xander played on the floor, staring at the ceiling and batting at invisible objects floating in the air around him like a cat. The boy had spent most of the day either crying for hours on end or wailing at the walls. The older man didn't know how much more he could take.

Xander had looked so wrong, completely not the person he once was that the Watcher's fingers nearly itched with the need to help him. Giles had moved to the floor next to Xander, not surprised that the boy neither noticed nor acknowledged his presence. He reached out slowly, his hand stroking the boy's stubbly chin before settling his hand firmly over Xander's mouth and pinching his nose closed.

Clarity again shone in the hazel eyes and Xander had tried to dislodge the hand blocking his airflow. When the Watcher refused to move, Xander relaxed and let his hands drift over the Englishman's arms and face. A single tear slid down Xander's cheek and then the hand was gone.

Giles had quickly moved back to his chair, intending to continue the research he had been working on before Xander had distracted him, when he felt warm hands on his thighs. Looking down, the Watcher stared as the boy opened the fly of his trousers and reaching his hand inside. Xander had quickly worked him up to full hardness before licking the straining erection from root to tip. With nothing more than nod from the older man, Xander engulfed him, swallowing deep.

When Giles came, the boy took it all, his eyes glowing with fear and understanding.

But for now, he watched as Xander stuck his finger in and out of the hole he had made in the worn shirt. What had started as a simple whimper had turned into a constant whine from the back of the boy's throat and the noise was going straight to the Englishman's last nerve. He looked at Xander and began to feel bad for the boy.

Xander looked up quickly, quietly, as Giles watched him in silence. As their eyes met, Giles casually wondered how much pressure Xander's trachea could take before it would collapse beneath his hands.

Realization shone in the boy's eyes before he crawled over toward the Watcher sprawled on the couch. Xander stripped himself naked before pulling at the Englishman's clothes. Once he had them both naked, he crawled into the older man's lap, lining up their matching erections and rocking slowly.

Giles watched him, smirking at the clarity in the hazel eyes. "You're not as far gone as you seem, are you Xander? You can see things. Very interesting."

Xander just stared, rocked and thrusting.

"You like mice and cream but no one sees. Take care of each other and I stand alone until I'm picked."

Giles chuckled lightly, wishing he understood what Xander was trying to tell him.

"You knew, did you? You're smarter than most think. You know what they say about the early bird."

Xander nodded as he whimpered and thrust, rushing toward his own orgasm. "The early bird catches pneumonia."

Giles chuckled as he gripped the boy's hips, thrusting hard against him. A fleeting thought passed through his brain and he wondered what he'd have to imagine for Xander to open completely for his cock.

Maybe he'd find out tomorrow.

~~~The End~~~