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Thoughts in a Bathroom	By : Cyberwulf Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > General Views: 1993 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own BtVS. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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- 1-Thoughts in a Bathroom
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Thoughts in a Bathroom

By Cyberwulf

Rating: 18s (NC-17)
Disclaimer: Characters are property of Joss Whedon and not me.
Summary: Giles. A bathroom. Thoughts. Kind of sad.
Spoilers: Set in between seasons four and five, because Giles is still unemployed, but the Scoobies all know about Willow and Tara being a couple. Specific references to The Freshman, Hush, Band Candy, The Dark Age, and all episodes featuring the Giles/Jenny relationship, including the one about her death.

Author’s Note: The rating, if you haven’t guessed, is mainly for what Giles does in the bathroom. If the combination of Giles and masturbation offends/sickens/disgusts you, or bends your mind, then leave now. And don’ t flame me on the strength of that last sentence. This isn’t just porn, there is a plot. I don’t think Giles does this much, if he does it at all, and if he does it’s probably with a lot of guilt and shame. This story is inspired by the fact that ever since they got rid of Jenny Calendar he hasn’t had a long-term love interest on the show. Read on and then you can flame away if you so desire. ;)

Giles closed the lid of the toilet and sat down. He undid his flies and gazed woefully down at his aching, tumescent member. He wanted to do this, and he didn’t want to do this. He was well aware of how pathetic the situation was – a forty-six year old man locking himself in the bathroom and tossing off like a twelve-year-old schoolboy. But he didn’t care any more. He needed this. He had needs like any other man and they weren’t being met. And he was hard and horny and sick of always thinking it down. He reached down with his left hand and began to stroke himself.
He was an expert at pleasuring himself, and it was a good thing too – no one else was likely to do it for him any time soon. It wasn’t fair. Everyone was getting shagged but him. Buffy had Riley. Willow had Tara. Xander had Anya. All paired up, three lovely couples. Shame he was the odd man out.
He thought back over his love life since he came to California. When he was younger, he’d had lots of girlfriends. Now, nothing. He couldn’t figure out why. He knew he still had what it took to make women happy. Olivia had told him as much when she moaned and bucked beneath him. Olivia. How did Anya put it? An orgasm friend, that was it. That was it, and nothing more. They had no future together. They lived in different worlds.
Then there was Joyce. They’d never spoken about That Night. But more than a year on, he still remembered it like it was yesterday. Giles bit back the moan that welled up in his throat and picked up the pace a little. She’d been so tight, tighter than he had expected. He knew that at the time, at least, she’d enjoyed it as much as he had. Every time he thrust into her she thrust back, as wet for him as he was hard for her. When he made her come, she’d screamed his na- his nickname so loud he was surprised no one heard her.
She’d called him Ripper. Ripper, the dangerous rebel, always had women. Rupert Giles, librarian and Watcher, now unemployed, was nowhere near as attractive, apparently. Except to –
He stopped what he was doing and took his hand away. He refused to think about Jenny while he did this. It just didn’t seem right. He dropped his hands to his sides and leaned back against the cistern. Not for the first time he wished they’d had a chance to . . . He wished he could have given her what he gave Joyce and Olivia. Or maybe that would have just made her death harder to take. Jenny. She’d loved him for the man he was, not the man he used to be. She’d called him sexy. And until that day, it was an adjective he hadn’t heard applied to him in a long time.
His erection was starting to subside. It was okay, he wasn’t really in the mood any more. He knew on one hand he should be thankful everything was still in working order. No prostate trouble, no drop in virility, no problems getting it up and keeping it there. But there wasn’t a lot of point without a special lady in bed next to you.
There were other ways he could deal with his loneliness, of course. But he didn’t want a meaningless one night stand. It was bad enough what happened with Joyce. Yes, he’d enjoyed it, and still enjoyed the memory, but at the same time he knew she deserved so much better than two rough, quick fucks on a car bonnet. The idea of picking up a prostitute repulsed him. Women were special, he firmly believed, and should be treated properly and not as sex objects. So, he was stuck with this. Four white walls, a dripping tap, and his left arm. Not very romantic. Thoroughly sad. Excruciatingly lonely.
His erection was now just a fading ache in his groin. He wasn’t even sure what had got him so hard in the first place. It was happening more often, lately. Most of the time the cause was easily identifiable. Xander’d turned on MTV one evening during a meeting. Midway through the first video Giles had had to excuse himself. He escaped upstairs and concentrated very hard on Margaret Thatcher until he was in a fit state to come down. Likewise the pictures in the book on Renaissance Art he was reading one day. But sometimes the stimulus was more disturbing. A few weeks ago, they’d all gone to the beach. As Buffy, Willow, Anya and Tara passed him in their swimsuits – he could hardly bear to remember – he’d felt a very, very faint stir downstairs.
Giles leaned his head against the cold tiles. That day, he felt like he’d hit rock bottom. He’d hardly been able to look any of them in the eye for the rest of the afternoon. Thank heaven it hadn’t happened since. The shame and disgust he still felt at himself were almost overpowering. Some of his old school and college friends had left their wives and spent a lot of time chasing after girls young enough to be their daughters. He refused to be like that. He refused to become a dirty old man. He just wanted someone to love, someone who made him feel special, someone who felt special because of him –
“ Giles! Are you home?”
Buffy’s voice. He got a fright and nearly fell off the toilet. Judging from the muffled voices through the wall, the whole gang was there.
“ Yes – just a minute!”
He tore off some toilet paper and wiped up the precum. He threw the paper in the toilet and flushed it. He fastened up his trousers, washed his hands, and splashed cold water on his face. He hoped he didn’t look too flushed. He wouldn’t be able to handle it if they guessed what he’d been doing.
Giles put his glasses back on. He unlocked the door, and prepared himself for the couples holding hands, and the sting of his loneliness when they all left.

End

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Thoughts in a Bathroom