Fantasy To Reality
written by Adrienne


Rating: FRAO for for sexual situations and drug and alcohol use.
Spoilers: Takes place in the 'Ripper' days in London from Ethan's POV, but the series will span from this setting to after "Chosen".
Summary: Ethan's fondest dream comes true. Mostly.
Author's Notes: This is the second story in a series about the relationship between Giles and Ethan.
Feedback Author: Adrienne



It was the booze. Or maybe it was the grass, or perhaps the single hit of acid, but had he been sober and actually thinking, he would never, ever have done it. Last night would have remained a well worn fantasy, and he wouldn't be in this awkward situation.

He wondered if he should just get up and sneak out quietly, before Ripper woke up. Pretend it never happened and hope that Ripper had been too far gone to realised who had been in bed with him. After all, that happened more than once.

He slowly moved one leg, carefully easing it out from under Ripper's thigh, then stopped. He could hear the cheerful clatter of pans in the kitchen and Dierdre's off key singing. God, he wished she'd get over her obsession with Pat Benetar.

Then he heard the telly being switched on. Fuck. No chance of a quick getaway to his own room, then. The others were up and about, and there was no way in hell they'd pass up an opportunity to comment.

He flicked a glance at the window, wondering if he could slip out that way. The ledge was wide enough to creep along to the widow's walk. Unfortunately, the window never opened wide enough to do more than let a slight breeze into the room and he was never all that fond of heights to begin with.

And even if he could untangle himself from Ripper, and make it out of the room without anyone noticing him, he doubted his fragile stomach would allow him to do so without vomiting all over the floor.

Still, it was worth a try. The last thing he wanted was to lose Ripper's friendship. Last night was a dream come true and very likely to turn into his worst nightmare.

He shifted again, this time getting all his limbs out from the octopus like embrace, and looked at his friend. As usual, the drunken debauchery of the night before did not show on his face. The near blond hair was ruffled adorably and it was all Ethan could do to stop himself from kissing him.

As he was about to slid out of bed, Ripper smiled and reached out to pull him back into his arms.

"Going somewhere?" Ripper murmured sleepily.

Ethan didn't know how to answer or whether he should. Ripper pulled him closer.

"If you leave for anything short of a major catastrophe, Rayne, I shall be very cross with you."

* * * * *

Ethan leaned against the kitchen counter and watched the party. He was a little tired and strangely unwilling to join in the festivities. It bothered him a little, since he was usually all too willing to indulge in drunken debauchery. Tonight, though, he was having trouble getting into the mood. Even the hit of acid Rand offered had done nothing to lift his spirits. All that had done was make his latest painting look like a demented Picasso inspired nightmare. It took several hits of grass to mellow out that particular image.

Rand was trying to pick up one of the girls, a coworker of Dierdre's, and failing miserably. Tommy was having a serious and very intense conversation with Alec about the merits of Arsenal versus Man U. Tommy's football obsession was pathological, in Ethan's opinion, but he seemed to be perfectly normal otherwise.

Dierdre and Phillip were making out on the sofa, oblivious to their audience, and Ripper had picked up his guitar and started playing.

Ripper. Ethan allowed himself a few minutes to simply admire Ripper. The way his long hair fell over his face as his clever hands ran over the strings enchanted him. He wanted to paint Ripper like that, in a world all of his own. He wondered briefly why Ripper played right handed, even though he was left handed in all other things.

It was only at times like this, when he was tired and drunk and unobserved, that he allowed himself to really feel how much he loved Ripper.

When Ripper had shown up on the doorstep nearly six months ago, Ethan had invited him to stay immediately. Phillip had been less than welcoming, but Ethan didn't care. He and Ripper had been friends since they were fourteen, and he wasn't going to turn a friend away.

It had taken all of twenty minutes for Phillip to figure out why Ethan wanted Ripper there, and, to his great credit, Phillip never told anyone except Dierdre that he knew how Ethan felt about Ripper.

Dierdre tried to discuss it with him once, but he refused. She eventually understood his reasons for not trying to turn the friendship into anything more.

It wasn't that Ripper wouldn't be interested in another man; Ripper had no particular inhibitions about sex, nor was he shy. Ripper seemed equally comfortable making out with boys as well as girls.

Ripper was a heartless flirt. She and Phillip watched, with some sympathy, as Ripper's parade of lovers came and went into the ramshackle flat. Ethan refused to be hurt by seeing Ripper with his amour of the week; they didn't last much longer than a night or two before Ripper went off in search of a new bedmate.

Dierdre found it somewhat disgusting how promiscuous Ripper was, but Ethan knew why Ripper behaved the way he did. Ripper was generous with his body, but his heart was well protected. Nobody get close to Ripper emotionally; nobody except Ethan.

Ethan knew Ripper's supposed destiny, how Ripper's family had impressed upon him that there was no chance that he would ever fall in love and, even if he did, there was no chance at all that he could have a normal romantic relationship with anyone. His destiny was to devote himself to a girl not yet born, heart and soul, and that left no room for romance. Never mind that Ripper was running away from that destiny as fast as he could; the lesson had been well learned.

Ethan tried hard to be content with friendship. And he tried hard to convince himself that he wasn't sexually attracted to Ripper. He liked girls. He loved girls, and their lovely breasts and soft, curving hips. Boys did nothing for him.

Ripper stopped playing for a moment, and Ethan pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked at him. Ripper smiled at him and Ethan involuntarily smiled back. A surge of pure happiness charged through Ethan and there was no one else in the room but the two of them.

The connection between them held for a long, long moment, and Ethan knew he was lying to himself. Other boys might not be attractive, but, God, he wanted Ripper. He felt himself flush and turned away.

Ethan spent the rest of the party trying to drink himself into insensibility. It was no use, none at all, to tell himself that friendship was enough. He knew, in that moment of connection, that he loved Ripper and he wanted Ripper and he was insanely jealous of all the faceless, nameless people who had shared Ripper's body. And he knew that eventually, he would weaken and offer himself. And that Ripper would flee as if the devil himself was on his heels and he would be alone.

By four, he was drunk enough to be beyond the maudlin, depressed stage, to the damn-the-consequences stage. If he was to lose Ripper anyway, he was damned well going to go after what he wanted.

Ripper had gone to bed about half an hour ago, alone for once. His latest, Diane, had made the mistake of getting clingy and he brushed her off impatiently. Diane had left the party in a huff, to the great amusement of the four other of Ripper's ex's.

Walking carefully, Ethan ignored the mass of bottles and tiptoed around Tommy's unconscious body to Ripper's room. Slipping inside and closing the door, he looked at his friend. Ripper had stripped off before going to bed and he looked perfectly delectable. The enormity of what he was about to do sobered Ethan a little.

Moving slowly, Ethan took off his own clothes, then slipped naked into bed. Ripper shifted, feeling a body next to him.

"Diane? I told you..." he murmured, reaching out a hand. Ethan took the hand and kissed it.

"Not Diane," he said softly. Ripper opened his eyes and looked at him.

"Rayne? Ethan, what are you...?" Ripper started, but Ethan cut him off with a kiss. Ripper tasted of cheap liquor and cigarettes, and Ethan loved the way he tasted. Running a hand down Ripper's chest, he was rewarded with a heartfelt moan.

"I want you," Ethan whispered, pressing himself into Ripper's body. Ripper wrapped him in his arms and kissed him again. It was Ethan's turn to moan as he felt Ripper's cock start to come to life. He had been hard before he had gotten into bed.

They kissed for a while. Ethan had no idea how long they spent exploring each other's mouths; it seemed timeless. Each kiss was hotter and wetter than the one that went before and they parted lips only long enough to breathe. Their hands weren't idle, either, and Ripper's large hands found places on Ethan's body that he hadn't known were so sensitive.

"Ethan." Ripper broke off an especially passionate kiss to whisper to him. Ethan tensed.

"What?"

"Have you ever done this before?" Ripper asked softly. Ethan thought about lying, but shook his head instead.

"Be gentle with me?" Ethan asked, with an impish grin.

Instead of answering, Ripper shifted and reached for something on the cluttered bedside table. Handing a tube of something or other to Ethan, he grinned back.

"You don't have to be gentle with me, love. I've done this before."

It took about fifteen seconds for Ethan to understand. He looked at the tube of lubricant in his hand, to his new lover. Ripper had moved so he was lying flat on the bed, his legs spread invitingly. When Ethan didn't move or say anything, he took the lube from Ethan's nerveless fingers and opened it. Taking a generous dollop, he reached between his own legs and touched himself. Ethan watched as Ripper prepared himself, lifting his hips and letting two fingers slip inside his cleft.

"It feels good...," Ripper said, and Ethan shivered at the sight of Ripper finger-fucking himself. "You'd feel even better..."

Ethan still couldn't quite believe the blatant invitation. Ripper then removed his fingers and took another bit of lube. Those clever fingers then touched Ethan's erect cock and smoothed the cool gel over him, coating him thoroughly.

"Do you want me?" Ripper asked, fingers still caressing.

"God, yes," Ethan breathed, and leaned forward. Ripper guided him to his entrance and lifted his hips. Ethan slid in and both of them shuddered.

"God, so good." Ripper groaned and wrapped his arms around Ethan. Ethan groaned as well, falling flat on top.

"So good," he echoed, and kissed the lips now so close to his own.

Ethan couldn't believe the hot, tight sheath around his cock. He had no idea how good it would feel to do this. As his tongue invaded Ripper's mouth, he felt as if he could stay there forever, wrapped in the heat of Ripper's body. He felt so charged, like he could do anything. Nothing felt as good as this, not sex with girls, not even magic.

The indescribable feelings grew as his body felt an urge to move, to pull out a little, just for the joy of pushing back in. Sex had never felt this good, this right, and nobody had made him feel so complete.

Part of his mind was thoroughly occupied in enjoying the emotional sensation of finally being this close to his love, and his body simply took over, operating on instincts. His body seemed to know when to go slowly, and when to speed up.

He wanted the feeling to last forever, to always be right where he was, his sweat slicked back encircled by Ripper's arms, his ears hearing the harsh gulps of breath they both made and, most of all, to feel and taste the way he was making Ripper feel. And he knew that Ripper was feeling the way he did; the half coherent cries of encouragement were more beautiful than the music Ripper sang for him.

Ripper clutched at him tightly and went still. He felt a hot wetness between their bodies, and heard a long, satisfied sigh. It took only a few more strokes before he reached his own climax, and the moment was so exquisite that he could not move or cry out. It was simply perfect. Then he collapsed on top of Ripper, spent.

He belatedly came to the realization that he was probably crushing his lover when Ripper moved a little, easing away. He felt himself pull out and moved so that Ripper could breathe easily.

He was about to say something when he heard Ripper take a deep breath and began to laugh softly.

"God, that was wonderful," Ripper said, on the end of a laugh.

"Do you always laugh after...?" Ethan ventured softly, wondering whether Ripper was still drunk.

"Usually," Ripper admitted, looked a little sheepish. It was nearly dawn and there was enough light coming into the room for Ethan to see. "Does that bother you? I wasn't laughing at you, honestly."

"You're a very strange person." That came out without any thought on Ethan's part.

"So are you, Rayne, so be quiet," Ripper said, pulling Ethan into a tight embrace. "Go to sleep. It's nearly morning and I know how much you like being awake in the morning."

Ethan snuggled down happily and closed his eyes.

* * * * *

Ethan froze. Damn. Ripper was awake and aware. He slowly turned and looked at Ripper. Ripper was looking back at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Are you cross with me?"

"A little. You never told me you fancied boys."

"And if I had told you I fancied you?"

"We would have done this long ago."

"You sound very sure of yourself."

"You're the one who crawled into my bed, Rayne, not the other way around."

"I didn't want to become another notch in your bedpost."

"You're not," Ripper said quietly.

"So I'm not going to get tossed out on my arse like every other lover you've had?"

"It's your flat. I can't toss you out." Ripper pointed out reasonably.

"You know what I mean."

"Ethan, you're my friend. My best friend. That's not going to change," Ripper replied, then his voice took on an uncertain note. "Is it?"

"No. Not on my part, anyway."

"Or mine."

They lay there for a moment or two.

"Was that a one off drunken encounter or are we going to do this again?" Ripper asked.

"Do you want to do this again?"

"Do you?"

"I asked first."

"Yes. I've wanted you for ages."

"Me, too," Ethan replied, knowing somehow that any declaration of tender feelings would be unwelcome.

"So that's settled." Ripper sounded content. Ethan wasn't entirely content, but he was happy enough with the way it had turned out.

"Shall we get up now?"

"I am feeling a bit sticky and if Dierdre doesn't shut up I may have to kill her," Ripper replied solemnly. "Race you to the shower?"

"I'm too hung over for a race. How about a brisk walk?"

"A sedate stroll and we can share?"

"You're on."

END

Read the next story in this series: Revealing Pictures