Title: Holiday Sinn
Author: Moonloon
Email: maryavatar@gmail.com
Website: Amused and Abused
Feedback: maryavatar Rating: NC17
Pairing: Giles/Andrew
Summary: Motel sex for Christmas
Show: Buffy
Date of publication: 14th December 2004
Disclaimer: Joss is a very smart guy, he knows I'm not stealing Andrew and Giles, I'm just borrowing them. And I'm sure the stains will come out. Eventually
Advertisement: Part of the Slash Advent Calendar of 2003 at http://www.kardasi.com/Advent/2004/SAC-2004.htm
Beta: Many thanks to Emony and Chicken Chem for effective beta services. They rock so much

Andrew has followed all the instructions that had been left pinned to the shower curtain. The motel bathroom isn't the nicest place to spend an hour, but he's almost ready. There's a nervous fluttering in the pit of his stomach, and this reminds him of the first time. His first time. Only this time he's not in Sunnydale, and he's not a scared virgin, and Warren isn't the one waiting for him on the other side of the door.

The card and the key had arrived at dawn. Andrew hadn't known what to expect; endearments, a polite rebuff, an order to vacate Watcher accommodation… all had been possible after his stuttered declaration under the mistletoe last night. Giles had stood stunned, as Andrew tried to explain exactly what he wanted for Christmas. He'd never been good at talking about feelings, and it was made worse by the fact that he wasn't even entirely sure what these feelings were. Still… now Giles knew that he was the most important person in Andrew's life. And that was what he'd meant.

Andrew looks down at his now smooth and hairless legs. He thinks he might be a little out of his depth. His black patent leather shoes reflect back the vague impression of a wide-eyed gaze, made to appear wider with a careful application of mid-brown mascara.

The note in the oddly unGiles-like Christmas card had been terse: 'Come to the Chestnut Grove motel at 10am. Further instructions will be waiting for you.' It could have been work-related, but the word 'motel' is forever linked with sex in Andrew's mind. So he'd gone, wondering what the 'instructions' were going to be, wondering if Giles wanted him, wondering if he was enough over Warren to let anyone else touch him like that.

Andrew can't put it off any longer. He takes one last look over the list, and checks it off against himself. 'Use depilatory cream on legs and underarms', check. 'Use internal cleansing equipment', an embarrassing check. 'Shower with lily of the valley soap and herbal shampoo', stinky, but also check. 'Clothing to be worn: White cotton panties', check. 'White cotton ankle socks', check. 'Black patent leather shoes', check. 'Yellow slip dress', check. 'Make up, apply sparingly', check. He's ready.

He opens the door, and almost squeaks with surprise. Giles is already there; he must have come in while Andrew was in the shower. He's dragged a chair over to the bottom of the bed, and he's sitting on it, looking calm and patient.

"Come here and sit down, dear." Giles pats the bed.

Andrew blushes bright red at the 'dear' part. And then hopes that blushing doesn't make his make-up look weird, or melt or something. Close on the heels of that is a little voice wondering if Giles called him dear because Giles doesn't want to use a boy's name.

Giles pats the bed again, this time looking the tiniest bit stern, and Andrew scuttles over and sits down opposite him, their knees almost touching. There's a pause, as Giles smiles at him, and then he reaches out and nudges Andrew's knees apart, and sits forward, so his legs press against the bedspread, between Andrew's.

Andrew is suddenly very, very hard. Giles has barely touched him, and he's throbbing, desperate for another touch. Any doubts he's had about doing this have fled and he wants to hitch his dress up and just beg to be fucked. Instead he just bites his lip and watches as Giles slowly slides one hand up under the hem of his dress and gently strokes his thigh.

"Lie back," Giles says. So Andrew flops back on the bed, half-disappointed that he can't see what Giles is doing, half-hopeful that this is going to lead to something more than touching. Giles strokes further up Andrew's leg, sliding over to rub a thumb on the soft flesh just below the crease of his hip. Andrew can't help but moan at the touch, and in his mind he's yelling 'higher'.

He hasn't exactly forgotten that Giles has two hands, but it's a shock when Giles uses the other hand to slip underneath his ass, between the soft, and now badly stretched, cotton panties and the little bit of dress that's under him. Andrew expects Giles to pull them down, but he doesn't. That thumb, the one that had been stroking his inner thigh, Giles slips under the leg hole of the panties, and presses up, between Andrew's balls and his hole.

Just once though. Andrew is fairly sure if Giles had done it twice, it would have all been over. Giles apparently knows his way around a man's body, because that was like nothing he's ever felt before. Not even with Warren.

He's not going to think about Warren while he's in bed with Giles.

Giles pulls his thumb, and then his whole hand away from between Andrew's legs, and Andrew opens his mouth to protest.

"Shhh," Giles hushes him, and Andrew closes his mouth, only to open it again as Giles pulls the panties down Andrew's thighs. "Lift your legs up," Giles says, patting Andrew's left knee. So Andrew lifts his legs up, and rests his feet on the bed. Another voice, this one sounds like his mother, tells him he shouldn't put his shoes on the bedspread, but it's easy to ignore, especially when Giles slips the panties off one leg, but leaves them hanging around the ankle of the other.

As Giles nudges Andrew's legs apart again, kneels on the bed, and unzips his pants, Andrew realises that Giles is going to fuck him with all their clothes still on. His newly-freed erection twitches under the yellow cotton of his dress, and Andrew watches with wide eyes as Giles pulls a little sachet of slick and a foil-wrapped condom out of his pocket.

Giles's movements are slow and deliberate. Far too slow for Andrew's peace of mind. Giles hasn't even broken a sweat, and Andrew feels like he hasn't stopped blushing since he walked out of the bathroom. The soft cotton he's dressed in felt a little too thin when he was putting it on, but now it feels far too heavy, sticking to the sweaty skin of his back and moulding itself damply to his erection.

Giles reaches up under Andrew's dress again, his lubed fingers finding Andrew's hole this time and sliding slickly inside. Andrew gasps in surprise: he's ready for this, he's so ready for this, but it's been a long time, and he wasn't expecting two fingers pushing right into him like that. Giles stops, and Andrew lets out a shaky breath, then relaxes and deliberately pushes down on Giles's fingers. Giles pushes in again; it's deep, a little bit rough, and just perfect.

"All right?" Giles asks, his fingers moving restlessly inside him.

Andrew just nods, too overwhelmed to speak. He looks down at Giles's arm, the muscles in his wrist moving in time to the movement inside, his hand hidden by the drape of damp cotton. It feels so incredibly lewd to lie here like this.

"Ah!" Andrew cries, Giles has pushed another finger inside him, and it's a bit uncomfortable for a moment, until his body remembers how to do this and opens a little more. "It's okay, I'm ready now," he says, and spreads his legs a little wider.

"Shh," Giles says again, and reaches up for a pillow. There's a moment of confusion, then Andrew realises it's to go under his hips. His cock throbs as Giles positions him, on his back, his legs in the air, ass exposed, wet, and ready. Giles touches himself, a light stroke and then slides down his pants just enough to free his cock. Andrew's never seen an uncut one before, and stares.

"You like it?" Giles asks, as he slides a condom over the head of his cock, and unrolls it down the shaft.

Andrew nods again; the sight takes his breath away. That hard-on is for him. It's going to be inside him. He can't wait. It's a good thing he doesn't have to: if he had to watch that for much longer, he'd come before Giles even touched him again.

And then Giles is touching him, holding him open and finally, at last, pushing inside him. It hurts, oh God, it hurts, but that just turns him on even more, and when Giles pulls back a bit, then thrusts deep, Andrew just lets go. Everything goes white for a moment, and Andrew feels like he's coming forever. When he can focus again, he realises he's still on his back with Giles's cock up inside him, and there's a really big wet patch on the front of his dress.

"Oh," Giles says. And for the first time he actually looks something other than completely calm and in control. He's a little flushed, and a bead of sweat trickles down his face.

"I'm sorry. I…" Andrew starts, embarrassed.

"Shhh," Giles says and pulls slowly out.

"No! Don't stop. You can still… I don't mind. I want you to." And he does. Andrew really, really wants to make Giles feel good.

Giles grins, and Andrew is suddenly reminded that Giles wasn't always cups of tea and old books. Back when he was Andrew's age, he'd been wild and dangerous. The real sort of wild and dangerous, not dangerous and stupid like he and Warren and Jonathan had been. Andrew hadn't been able to picture that before, but now, with Giles's mouth curving into a feral smile, it's all too easy to see.

Giles licks his lips. "Don't worry, we're not done yet. Turn over and hold onto the headboard."

Andrew's cock twitches and he looks down in surprise. He's not quite ready to get hard again, but it's definitely interested. His arms and legs feel like jelly, but somehow he rolls over and crawls up the bed to kneel below the pillows and hold onto the headboard. The mess he made is kind of disgusting now, cooling and trickling down his leg. The stuff that soaked into his dress is clammy and sticks to his stomach.

Andrew shivers as Giles slides his hand up under the dress again, then it's tugged up and Andrew's ass is bare. Andrew's cock twitches again, and starts to thicken. It's as if his ass is even more naked because the rest of him is dressed, and it turns him on so much more than if he'd been here with nothing on.

Giles squeezes Andrew's ass, rubbing his thumbs down the crease, and then pushing his cheeks apart, exposing him even more. Andrew feels so open and ready, and he's about to ask Giles to please please put something in him, when Giles does just that – leans forward and slides his cock in with one smooth thrust.

It's much deeper this way, and Andrew groans. Giles feels huge inside him, stretching and filling him up. Now that the edge is off and he's relaxed, he can just enjoy it, instead of being all twisted up with want. Giles surges inside him, strong and regular - like ocean waves, although Andrew thinks that might be a little too clichéd to say out loud. It goes on for a long time, and Andrew gets hard again. The cold wet patch on Andrew's dress swings back and forth, every so often slapping his cock in a way that's both a turn-on and a turn-off.

Giles's breathing is getting ragged, and his movements are coming faster. It's rough now, and Giles grabs at Andrew's legs, pulling them further apart, then slides his hands up to Andrew's hips so he can tug them up and down in time with his thrusts.

Andrew lets go of the headboard with one hand, and touches himself through his dress.

"Yessss," Giles hisses. "Touch yourself. Do it. I want you to come."

The cotton is slippery with sweat and come, and slides easily over Andrew's cock. He rubs himself hard, and loses his grip on the headboard just as Giles groans and thrusts up one last time. There's a moment where everything happens at once: he sinks down as far as it's possible to get on Giles's cock, which he feels swell slightly as Giles comes, then he's coming himself, his cotton-wrapped cock jerking strongly in his hand.

The bedspread is cool against Andrew's hot cheek when he comes to. He doesn't think he passed out, but things certainly went a bit woozy for a while. He winces as Giles pulls out - he'll be feeling sore for a few days, but it was totally worth it.

"Go wash your face and take the dress off," Giles says.

"M'kay," Andrew says, but has to count to five before he can haul himself off the bed to get cleaned up. His face in the bathroom mirror is a shock: his make-up has smudged, his hair is all over the place and he looks… debauched… ravaged… used. He grins happily at his reflection, then scrubs his face clean.

The clothes he came in are folded up on the cistern, and he wonders if he should get dressed. He doesn't want to though. Not yet. The yellow dress lands in a soggy heap on the floor and the shoes and socks are kicked off. The panties have been lost somewhere, Andrew doesn't remember or particularly care where. Then he wipes himself down and slips back out into the bedroom.

Andrew feels shy now. The dress and make-up were armour of a sort, and now he's just Andrew again. Will just plain vanilla Andrew be enough to keep Giles interested?

Giles is in bed, naked. His clothes are tossed carelessly on the floor, and Andrew relaxes.

"Come to bed." Giles pulls back the sheet, making a space that Andrew slides into gratefully. "Merry Christmas, Andrew." Giles wraps his arms around Andrew's body, and pulls him tight so they're lying spooned together. "Was that what you wanted?"

"Yes, that's what I wanted," Andrew says.

Giles sighs and presses a kiss to Andrew's shoulder.

"It's what I wanted. Now… I want this." Andrew holds his breath and prays to whatever god or demon is listening.

Giles is quiet for what feels like an eternity, then he kisses Andrew's shoulder again. "You have it."

The End