Fic: Inside Out, Giles/Xander, R (FRM)
Title: Inside Out (2 of 6)
Author: lostgirlslair
Fandom: BtVS
Pairing: Giles/Xander
Rating: R (FRM)
For full header, see Part One
"Xander. Hello." Giles was confused by the almost terrified expression on Xander's face. He stepped back to allow him inside and felt his eyes widened when Anya stepped past Xander. "Oh, Anya! Uh, good evening to you as well."
His eyes flicked to Xander who shrugged and followed Anya inside.
"Xander told me about everything," Anya was saying as she hung up her jacket. Giles felt his stomach drop, eyes flicking anxiously to Xander, who wouldn't meet his gaze. "And I thought I should come, too. That's what a good girlfriend does." She nodded firmly, giving Giles a grin. "I should support Xander through this confusion and our relationship will be stronger because of it."
"Right," Giles found himself saying past the lump in his throat. He had no idea what to expect now and that made him edgy. "Uh, can-can I offer either of you a drink. Tea, perhaps?"
"Oh, I'm fine," Anya shook her head, still smiling.
"I'm good, too," Xander put in, finally meeting his gaze. "Uh, Anya wants to help with the decision, about the people you know? We, uh, talked about me being part demon and . . . well, since she was a demon and all . . ."
Giles, who had turned to lead them into the living room, closed his eyes for a moment and let out an inaudible sigh. He felt both relieved and guilty. Xander should tell Anya what had happened, of course. Still, he was dreading her knowing, ashamed of his own actions and how close he'd come to taking advantage of Xander's confusions. Though that was his first concern, he had to admit to a small thread of worry about Anya's past. Human she may now be, but that didn't mean she didn't still have connections. He was so tense and anxious that he almost felt dizzy.
"Yes, well, Anya makes perfect sense, of course." Forcing a smile, Giles sat in his armchair. He had to clench one of his fists to keep from looking away when Anya sat beside Xander and leaned against him. Memories of what that had felt like filled Giles' mind for a moment and he had to push them firmly away.
Swallowing hard, he turned his mind to the facts. "Well, this group is only a few hours away. I can give you directions. Uh, I'll need to call them, if you decide to go. So that they'll be expecting you."
"What--" Xander pressed his lips together, leaning forward and grasping his hands tight together. "What would it mean? What would I be doing there? Uh, just go and talk to them and they'll tell me what type of demon and . . . whether or not I'm going to go all scaly?"
"Most hybrid demons don't have scales," Anya added helpfully, reaching over to lay a hand atop both of Xander's in a comforting motion that wasn't anywhere near as awkward as it might have been a year ago. "It's not likely that you'll grow scales. Tails you see a lot more often, but you would have had that from the beginning. Unless . . ." She gave Xander an earnest look, "Is that how you got that scar above your butt?"
"What? No!" Xander shook his head at Anya, turning to meet Giles' rather surprised gaze. "I fell off my skateboard." Xander looked back to Anya, speaking almost frantically. "And that isn't bad! It's not tail-removal bad. It's-it's clumsy bad! If that!"
Anya rolled her eyes and looked back to Giles. "So, no tailed demons, apparently."
"Yes," Giles nodded, picking up a book he'd been looking through earlier, though it was more to distract himself from his amusement than because he'd found anything overly helpful. "Uh, I found a reference in here to how such things often go. It, uh, it seems that most demon-human hybrids don't ever show many signs. Uh, any-any demon close enough to breed with a human . . . well, most of the time, if you don't have it at birth . . ." Giles shrugged a little, handing the book to Xander.
"Right. So, there might not be any changes at all?" Xander looked so relieved that Giles couldn't help but to smile at him. Of course, that didn't mean he didn't need to stress that it was still possible. He didn't want to assure Xander nothing was going to happen only to have him grow spikes.
"Uh, it's most likely that there won't be--"
"See! I told you that you weren't going to start dripping slime!" Anya beamed at Xander, drawing a raised eyebrow from Giles. "He was worried about slime," she said matter-of-factly, patting Xander's knee. "I told him that it wasn't likely, but possible since Malvre demons do have slime and they're close enough, biologically, to have orgasms with a human." There she got a thoughtful look. "Of course, if it's Malvre, you'd probably be insane, so I think you can rule them out."
"Quite true." Giles looked to Xander. "It is unlikely you'll experience any sort of changes, but there is a possibility and these people can help you to know what to expect."
"All right," Xander said with a sigh, laying his head in his hands for a moment. "Okay. I can do this. We'll just go up tomorrow, meet the demon-ish people, and be back in time for dinner. Uh, right?" He gave Giles an unsure look, his hands tapping against his thighs. "We won't like . . . be dinner?"
"No, no. They're . . . protective of their community, but on the whole, peaceful. Still," Giles shrugged, "It might take a bit more time than that. Uh, and given your work schedule, it's probably best if you take a weekend. The two of you could go up--"
"Wait," a slightly panicked look crossed Xander's face, "you're not coming with me? I . . . I thought you'd . . ." He looked to Anya, as if she might be able to say something, convince him.
Giles only shook his head. "Uh, no. I think . . . I think you and Anya should go alone. Xander, it's really not so intimidating as it may feel. These are good people, a good place. You'll be in no danger. I wouldn't have suggested it if I thought you would be." He met Xander's eyes, trying to convince him with just that look. It would be much better if he remained behind.
Of course, the hurt that passed through Xander's eyes made him wonder if he were doing it for Xander or if he were simply being selfish, not wanting to have to watch the way Anya stared at Xander, not wanting to see them touch and kiss, not wanting to hear about their sex life.
"It's okay," Anya put in, leaning against Xander. "We can do this. Giles will give us directions and we can go this weekend. Will we have to camp? Maybe I should buy camping things. You like camping, right Xander? Do you still have your old sleeping bag from spending Christmas outside?"
Xander straightened, though he still seemed to close in on himself, his eyes going shuttered. "Fine. Right. Yeah. I have it, somewhere. Uh, we'll find it later." He cast a look at Giles. "Um, Ahn, can I talk to Giles about guy stuff for a sec?"
Giles's gaze slipped to Anya, who smiled broadly. "Oh, be my guest," she said brightly, though she didn't move, instead looking from Xander to him and back again. It seemed, after a moment, she got the idea and frowned. "Oh. This would be the kind of guy stuff you don't want me to hear about? Damn." She sighed and then stood up, obviously disappointed. "I'll just go count the tiles in the bathroom."
She slumped away and Giles had to bite his lips to keep from chuckling. Of course, one look to Xander and the urge to laugh died quickly. Xander looked down to the floor and Giles found himself doing the same, both of them silent and the tension thick in the air between them. Giles shifted awkwardly, that act apparently breaking whatever dam that had held back Xander's words.
"You said you'd help me through this," Xander finally muttered, angry. "You said you would and I . . . Giles . . ." He looked up and the hurt in his eyes made Giles' chest constrict.
"I think it's better if just you and Anya go and . . . I think that, perhaps, it would be good for the two of you to . . . talk. Without my presence making things more difficult." Giles thought there was a flash of understanding in those deep brown eyes, but Xander's next words were discouraging.
"Anya's going to be there," he said softly. "You don't have to worry that I'll . . ." Xander looked away, apparently unable to finish the sentence.
"Xander . . ." Giles shook his head, wanting to explain, but the hurt on Xander's face, the way he was clenching his jaw, his posture tight . . . Giles couldn't bring himself to ignore the obvious distress, even if it meant spending a weekend watching Xander and Anya together. If Anya told him one more intimate detail, Giles was almost certain he'd growl with his frustration. Still, sighing, he gave in because he found he couldn't say 'no', not when Xander needed him. Not Buffy, not Willow, not . . . Anya. Not help in general, but him.
"Fine. I'll . . . I'll go," he said softly, though what he was thinking was more along the lines of, This is going to be hell.
Xander went to get Anya so that they could leave. Giles didn't move from his seat, at first, staring at the coffee table, more moody than he wanted to admit. He did his best to hide it, putting on a smile for Anya and Xander and quickly ushering them out the door. Xander shot him a confused look from over his shoulder, but Giles was simply . . . tired.
He shut the door and leaned against it, putting his forehead to the cool wood. Images ran through his mind, thoughts of Xander and Anya sitting on the couch together interspersed with he and Xander there just the night before, Xander's sleeping weight against his side.
'Hell' was perhaps an understatement.
He finally made his way to bed, after fussing around his flat, dusting what didn't need dusted, straightening what didn't need straightened. He was tired, exhausted, but he knew his mind wasn't going to let him sleep. He'd learned the signs of that, if nothing else, over the years.
Giles tossed and turned, his mind returning to Xander lying on his bed, sprawled out and half-naked, trying to hide his self-conscious thoughts by not reaching for the blanket to cover that long, beautiful body. Giles couldn't keep himself from remembering that Xander had been hard, his erection jutting against the sweatpants, visible and . . . so very hard. For him.
That's not the way it was and you know it, he growled at himself, turning over again and trying to ignore his rather insistent erection, one that both refused to go away and refused to allow him to find a comfortable position. He needed comfort and I took advantage. He needed to feel wanted, that was all. It didn't matter, then, who did the wanting.
More memories flooded him, as if trying to dispute that argument. Xander pressed tight against him, their erections rubbing together through the worn material of their sweatpants. Xander's hands on his body, Xander's breath hot on his neck.
Rupert
Giles growled, turning over onto his back and letting his hand slip into his pajama bottoms, grasping his precum-slick cock and stripping it quickly. As if making this fast would keep him from thinking of Xander's body, pressed against him, laid out for him, hard and wanting.
Uh, with-with a guy. How different is it?
And Giles' traitorous mind was off and running, picturing the ways he could show Xander. Xander on his knees and looking up at him. Giles gasped, swiping his thumb over the head of his prick. Xander on all fours, back bowing as Giles pushed into him. Giles slid his free hand down to cup his balls, rolling them between his fingers. Xander's face as Giles teasingly sucked at his cock. Giles' head tilted back, eyes closing to see it all better, betraying him, though he was too far gone to care. Xander's body, slick with sweat, arching up, hips bucking as Giles took him slowly.
Groaning, Giles came, hips jerking, pumping his cock into his own hand. As he reached for a handful of tissues and cleaned himself, Giles was haunted by visions of waking up to that shy smile, to deep brown eyes and a ridiculous grin, to Xander curled against his side.
Sleep did not come for far too long a time.
-----
Giles slammed his hand down on his alarm clock, squinting at it to make sure he hadn't accidentally set it for an earlier than usual time. Sighing, he reached for his glasses and put them on. He couldn't actually force himself to get out of bed just yet, but he was heading in that direction.
He in no way dozed.
At least, that's what he told himself a half an hour later when a knocking at the door had him startling to his feet. Grabbing for his robe, Giles made his way down the stairs, his mind too fuzzy to imagine scenarios that would explain someone knocking at his door at eight in the morning.
Giles pulled opened the door and found himself blinking once again, not sure he'd actually woken up at all. Xander stood outside his door with a box of donuts and an unsure smile.
"Oh, uh, I'm sorry," Xander began, his nervous shifting suddenly making Giles realize that he'd been staring. "I didn't expect you to still be in bed. I just wanted to, you know, return the favor. The breakfast favor! Um, I know it's not pancakes and eggs and bacon, but, like I said, I never saw you eat real food before noon before yesterday and I don't know how to cook. Well, I can do those toaster things, but I didn't think you'd like those and I figured they'd probably get cold before I got here and--"
"Xander?" Giles found himself smiling. He moved to one side so that Xander could enter. "Why don't you set the donuts on the counter. I'll, uh, I'll just go get dressed."
Xander's eyes slipped down to his robe and then back up. "Right. 'Cause a dressed Giles is a happy Giles." There was something slightly bitter to Xander's voice. "Uh, okay, can we just pretend I never said that?" Xander nodded, a little too quickly, his face blushing crimson as he stepped past Giles.
Giles closed his eyes for a moment, forcing himself not to think about those words, that tone, not to analyze them. Shutting the door, he turned and headed for the stairs. "I'll, uh, I'll be right back," he said over his shoulder, not quite ready to face Xander.
"Right! I'll get everything ready. I got a bunch of jelly donuts, 'cause you make such a big deal when they're gone. It isn't like I ate the last one on purpose, you know. I don't have to be to work until nine, so I thought it would be, uh, nice if I returned the breakfast favor. Did I already say that?"
Giles realized with a slight start that it was rather nice to listen to Xander babble. It filled the flat, took away the silence that sometimes seemed oppressive, but Giles didn't have to respond, didn't have to even listen, for the most part. He grabbed the first pair of sweats he found, dressing quickly. Part of him wanted to shower, shave, fully wake up before he had anything to do with breakfast, but Xander would have to leave soon and . . . That thought gave him pause, made him wonder if it wouldn't be better if he did go through his morning rituals. The fact that he would have less time with Xander was both the up and down side. It was probably better if he did spend as little time with Xander as he could reasonably manage. Better for both of them if he made himself scarce.
But was it? Xander was going through so much. It must be hard to not only find out that he was half demon, but to also be realizing his sexuality was more complicated then he'd expected . . . Giles swallowed hard, trying to work through the tangle of thoughts. Was he simply justifying his desire to be near Xander? Would pulling away while Xander was in such a state be selfish?
Sighing, Giles closed his eyes, Xander's babble filling the flat, background noise to Giles' own rollercoaster thoughts. Xander kept coming to him, seeking him out, but Giles couldn't pin down why, not with his own wants and desires getting in the way. He couldn't trust his own judgment. The revelation came in a flash of searing emotion, so many different feelings he couldn't quantify them all. Desire, longing, hurt and fear were just the most easily definable.
Good lord. What was he going to do?
Giles descended the stairs more confused than he had been just minutes ago. If he couldn't trust his own motives, his own judgment, what could he do? The last thing he wanted was to wind up hurting Xander, or Anya. Perhaps it would be better to distance himself now, to hurt Xander a little now and avoid--God, he was in deep trouble.
"You know, you need more orange juice. Or do you want coffee? I can make coffee. It's not really cooking so it's not against the 'male and under twenty-five rule'. Okay, so I kinda made that rule up myself and nobody would care if I broke it, but . . . you're a rules kinda guy. Right? I mean, yeah, rules can be good and all, but some rules you just gotta break."
Giles stopped on his way to the kitchen, his eyes snapping to Xander's face through the pass-through. Xander looked horrified at what he'd just said, but it was more his tone that had caught Giles' attention. They stood, staring at one another, the air crackling with mutual tension. Giles' throat and chest were tight with thoughts and emotions he refused to name. Not now. There would be plenty of time to analyze and curse, but later.
He cleared his throat, looking away and finally breaking the moment. "I'll just, uh, I'll make the coffee," Giles said, not letting himself think about why Xander's face fell for an instant before he slapped on a fake smile.
"Right, I'll go, uh . . . get out the donuts." Xander pushed past him and Giles felt guilty for a moment before he pushed it aside. Now wasn't the time, later. When Xander had gone and Giles had nothing to do all day but stock shelves and pretend interest in his customers.
Silence filled the flat once again and Giles flailed for something somewhat safe for them to discuss. "So, uh, have you and Anya discussed the trip?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Uh, we talked about it last night. She thinks it'll be fun, camping and stuff. She, uh, says sleeping under the stars should be romantic." There was a bewildered tone to Xander's voice and Giles couldn't help but laugh. Unfortunately, he thought it might be slightly hysterical. Was there any topic of conversation that was safe? "What? What's funny? I mean, she says it like I should know, but the only time I've ever camped out was . . . well, let's just say that it wasn't for the fun of sleeping outside."
"Well," Giles finally said, pouring out two cups of coffee and setting one down in front of Xander before he took his seat. "It's just that you sounded so . . . confused," Giles shrugged, reaching for a jelly.
"Well, I am," Xander said with a snort. "I don't know. Sometimes I just don't get Anya. It's like . . . she's got all these expectations and I do my best, but I don't know what all of them are and she's always surprising me with something new and . . ." Xander shrugged and Giles looked up to see him staring morosely at his donut.
It tugged at Giles' heart, made him want to help even though he knew he shouldn't get involved. That was the one thing of which he was sure, in fact, that he really shouldn't get any deeper into this mess. Playing relationship councilor to a couple when he flinched inside every time he saw them touch . . . it was a very bad idea, to say the least.
But Xander looked so sad.
"Surprises can be good," he finally said, turning his eyes to his own donut, his chest clenching tight. "And sometimes it's a person's unpredictability that, uh, that draws one. Never being certain what's going to come next. It can be . . . a thrill." Giles smiled a bit sadly at that. Wanting to shake his head at himself. That had been why he'd first been drawn to Ethan, really. That mad, mischievous glint in the man's eyes, never knowing what he would do next and whether or not it would get them all killed. Xander had that effect on him too, though in a far safer and more amusing way. He never knew what Xander was going to say next, what he was going to do. Realizing Xander hadn't said anything, Giles looked up to find Xander looking at him with curious eyes and an indecipherable smile. "What?"
"Uh, just . . . I don't know. You looked like . . . I don't know. Like maybe you were somewhere else?" There was a slight blush on Xander's cheeks and Giles didn't know what to make of it. Xander couldn't possibly have known what he was thinking. Giles almost panicked until Xander finished his thought. "Was that what you liked about Ethan?"
Giles blinked, wondering how Xander had figured that out--well, really, Ethan and Chaos, perhaps it wasn't such a leap after all. Why Xander wanted to discuss it, that was the real question, unfortunately, Giles had no idea as to the answer.
"Uh," he looked back to his donut, surprised that he was actually considering answering. "Yes," he finally said with a snort. "Ethan was full of surprises. Of course, one could never be sure those surprises wouldn't attempt to eat one's skin."
Xander laughed and Giles couldn't help but join in, the sound loosening something inside him, relaxing him though he knew he shouldn't let it.
"Did that actually happen?" Xander turned toward him, leaning against the pass-through, body relaxed and dark eyes shining. Why was it always eyes like that? "Did something really try that?"
Giles laughed, nodding and putting down his donut. He turned toward Xander, soaking in that smile, the pure enjoyment on the young man's face. "Ethan found this job for us to do. We were, uh, we were supposed to summoning a Mephit to, uh, to clip its toenails," Giles couldn't keep himself from laughing at the incredulity on Xander's face.
"Someone hired you to clip a demon's toenails?"
"Uh, well, they were needed for some spell or another. I didn't ask what, but something like that is hardly a one person job. Someone's got to be there to make sure the thing doesn't escape and someone else has got to do the clipping and it's even better if you can have a few people hold that damn thing down if you can't reach an agreement--"
"An agreement?" Xander laughed, shaking his head. "You mean you guys were going to . . . what, trade it something for its toenails?"
"Yes," Giles answered, getting into his story now. He hadn't thought about the incident in years and he wasn't about to mention some aspects of the story, such as what they'd eventually wound up trading, but it felt good to tell it and it felt good to see Xander smile. "However, we wound up, not with a Mephit, but with a Kaibiri, which is a close cousin. Close enough that we didn't think it would bother the spell. Only Kaibiri aren't nearly as calm and are apparently quite vain about their feet. Or, at least, this one was."
The time passed so quickly, both of them laughing as Giles told Xander how the Kaibiri had threatened to skin them all if even one of them touched its feet. Before he knew it, Xander was glancing at his watch. The disappointed look that crossed Xander's face shouldn't have made Giles feel good, but it was nice to see.
"I have to go," Xander said with a shrug. "Work. Uh, but . . . this was really fun and, uh, would . . . would you mind if we did it again?" Xander asked as he stood, backing toward the door and grabbing his coat of the hook.
"Of course," Giles said before he could catch himself. He watched Xander leave with a feeling of dread, especially when Xander smiled at him over his shoulder before shutting the door.
God, what was he doing? He stood, hands automatically reaching to clean up, though his mind was firmly elsewhere, running along a tangle of thoughts that left him cursing himself. Xander was still confused, and Giles was the only one to know, apparently, about his sudden revelation. It only made sense that Xander might seek him out, really. Xander was discovering that he wasn't straight and while Willow had gone through the same thing, Giles was male and had experience in that area. Which was, of course, why Xander was interested in hearing about Ethan.
Giles tried to turn his mind elsewhere. He cleaned up quickly and then set about getting ready. He took more time than he normally would and even he wasn't sure why. It might have been that he was putting off seeing Anya at the Magic Box or, equally as likely, that he didn't want to start his day and leave breakfast behind. Either way, it was silly and Giles tried to force himself to hurry, especially through his shower, during which thoughts of Xander were particularly dangerous.
He made it to the shop only a little later than he normally found acceptable, but Anya was busy enough stalking their two customers that she didn't even glance at him. Giles made quick work of dropping his things off and getting to the training room to begin unpacking the latest deliveries, relaxing into the familiar, routine task. Unfortunately, it didn't require much of his mind, which meant that his thoughts kept circling back to Xander and to Anya.
-----
Sighing, he put the stock aside. Hours of unpacking boxes, putting things away, trying not to look at Anya, staying mostly in the basement or the training room so that he didn't have to talk to her, none of it had helped. Kneeling on the training room floor, staring through Buffy's heavy bag, Giles decided it was time to stop pretending. Somehow, he'd worked his way into an enormous mess and now he had to stop ignoring it and start extricating himself.
Xander was off limits. He knew that, had always known that. No matter how he felt or what he wanted, that was the one truth he had to accept. It was the only way to start to make this easier. Nodding to himself, he closed his eyes, listing the reasons he could never even consider forgetting that. Xander didn't want him. Xander loved Anya. Xander was far too young for him. Xander was a friend. Xander was exceedingly confused right now. Giles thought most of his trouble had begun the other night. Xander had kissed him and it had lit a spark he'd never quite had before. The feel of Xander's body against his, the feel of his lips and . . . Giles cut that line of thought off, sitting up and opening his eyes.
Xander was off limits.
With that basic truth laid down, it was time to move to the other questions and Giles didn't know where to begin. He wanted to help. Having seen the desperation in Xander's eyes that night, he knew what was lurking underneath. Xander said he wanted to ignore it, but Giles had seen the confusion and the heartache and he couldn't ignore that, couldn't simply turn his back to it. Even if it hurt him to see Xander and Anya together he'd better damn well get used to it. Xander wanted his help, for whatever reason. That night, the way Xander had touched him, said his name . . . he had to forget about it. Whatever . . . revelations it had, apparently, inspired in Xander, Giles knew he was only tangentially part of it.
Xander had wanted comfort, and he'd discovered something about himself while seeking it. That didn't mean anything. Couldn't mean anything, other than Xander had twice as much to deal with. If Giles could help him, make this transition easier, he would.
Startled when he heard a throat being cleared, Giles looked up to find Anya standing in the doorway. He stood, telling himself he had nothing to feel guilty about even as he continued to feel it. She was standing straight, her arms crossed over her stomach in a way that made her looked vulnerable, hurt. "Uh, Anya. Hello. What, uh, what can I do for you?"
"I'm not stupid," she said and the bottom dropped out of Giles' stomach.
-----
Next Part
Author: lostgirlslair
Fandom: BtVS
Pairing: Giles/Xander
Rating: R (FRM)
For full header, see Part One
"Xander. Hello." Giles was confused by the almost terrified expression on Xander's face. He stepped back to allow him inside and felt his eyes widened when Anya stepped past Xander. "Oh, Anya! Uh, good evening to you as well."
His eyes flicked to Xander who shrugged and followed Anya inside.
"Xander told me about everything," Anya was saying as she hung up her jacket. Giles felt his stomach drop, eyes flicking anxiously to Xander, who wouldn't meet his gaze. "And I thought I should come, too. That's what a good girlfriend does." She nodded firmly, giving Giles a grin. "I should support Xander through this confusion and our relationship will be stronger because of it."
"Right," Giles found himself saying past the lump in his throat. He had no idea what to expect now and that made him edgy. "Uh, can-can I offer either of you a drink. Tea, perhaps?"
"Oh, I'm fine," Anya shook her head, still smiling.
"I'm good, too," Xander put in, finally meeting his gaze. "Uh, Anya wants to help with the decision, about the people you know? We, uh, talked about me being part demon and . . . well, since she was a demon and all . . ."
Giles, who had turned to lead them into the living room, closed his eyes for a moment and let out an inaudible sigh. He felt both relieved and guilty. Xander should tell Anya what had happened, of course. Still, he was dreading her knowing, ashamed of his own actions and how close he'd come to taking advantage of Xander's confusions. Though that was his first concern, he had to admit to a small thread of worry about Anya's past. Human she may now be, but that didn't mean she didn't still have connections. He was so tense and anxious that he almost felt dizzy.
"Yes, well, Anya makes perfect sense, of course." Forcing a smile, Giles sat in his armchair. He had to clench one of his fists to keep from looking away when Anya sat beside Xander and leaned against him. Memories of what that had felt like filled Giles' mind for a moment and he had to push them firmly away.
Swallowing hard, he turned his mind to the facts. "Well, this group is only a few hours away. I can give you directions. Uh, I'll need to call them, if you decide to go. So that they'll be expecting you."
"What--" Xander pressed his lips together, leaning forward and grasping his hands tight together. "What would it mean? What would I be doing there? Uh, just go and talk to them and they'll tell me what type of demon and . . . whether or not I'm going to go all scaly?"
"Most hybrid demons don't have scales," Anya added helpfully, reaching over to lay a hand atop both of Xander's in a comforting motion that wasn't anywhere near as awkward as it might have been a year ago. "It's not likely that you'll grow scales. Tails you see a lot more often, but you would have had that from the beginning. Unless . . ." She gave Xander an earnest look, "Is that how you got that scar above your butt?"
"What? No!" Xander shook his head at Anya, turning to meet Giles' rather surprised gaze. "I fell off my skateboard." Xander looked back to Anya, speaking almost frantically. "And that isn't bad! It's not tail-removal bad. It's-it's clumsy bad! If that!"
Anya rolled her eyes and looked back to Giles. "So, no tailed demons, apparently."
"Yes," Giles nodded, picking up a book he'd been looking through earlier, though it was more to distract himself from his amusement than because he'd found anything overly helpful. "Uh, I found a reference in here to how such things often go. It, uh, it seems that most demon-human hybrids don't ever show many signs. Uh, any-any demon close enough to breed with a human . . . well, most of the time, if you don't have it at birth . . ." Giles shrugged a little, handing the book to Xander.
"Right. So, there might not be any changes at all?" Xander looked so relieved that Giles couldn't help but to smile at him. Of course, that didn't mean he didn't need to stress that it was still possible. He didn't want to assure Xander nothing was going to happen only to have him grow spikes.
"Uh, it's most likely that there won't be--"
"See! I told you that you weren't going to start dripping slime!" Anya beamed at Xander, drawing a raised eyebrow from Giles. "He was worried about slime," she said matter-of-factly, patting Xander's knee. "I told him that it wasn't likely, but possible since Malvre demons do have slime and they're close enough, biologically, to have orgasms with a human." There she got a thoughtful look. "Of course, if it's Malvre, you'd probably be insane, so I think you can rule them out."
"Quite true." Giles looked to Xander. "It is unlikely you'll experience any sort of changes, but there is a possibility and these people can help you to know what to expect."
"All right," Xander said with a sigh, laying his head in his hands for a moment. "Okay. I can do this. We'll just go up tomorrow, meet the demon-ish people, and be back in time for dinner. Uh, right?" He gave Giles an unsure look, his hands tapping against his thighs. "We won't like . . . be dinner?"
"No, no. They're . . . protective of their community, but on the whole, peaceful. Still," Giles shrugged, "It might take a bit more time than that. Uh, and given your work schedule, it's probably best if you take a weekend. The two of you could go up--"
"Wait," a slightly panicked look crossed Xander's face, "you're not coming with me? I . . . I thought you'd . . ." He looked to Anya, as if she might be able to say something, convince him.
Giles only shook his head. "Uh, no. I think . . . I think you and Anya should go alone. Xander, it's really not so intimidating as it may feel. These are good people, a good place. You'll be in no danger. I wouldn't have suggested it if I thought you would be." He met Xander's eyes, trying to convince him with just that look. It would be much better if he remained behind.
Of course, the hurt that passed through Xander's eyes made him wonder if he were doing it for Xander or if he were simply being selfish, not wanting to have to watch the way Anya stared at Xander, not wanting to see them touch and kiss, not wanting to hear about their sex life.
"It's okay," Anya put in, leaning against Xander. "We can do this. Giles will give us directions and we can go this weekend. Will we have to camp? Maybe I should buy camping things. You like camping, right Xander? Do you still have your old sleeping bag from spending Christmas outside?"
Xander straightened, though he still seemed to close in on himself, his eyes going shuttered. "Fine. Right. Yeah. I have it, somewhere. Uh, we'll find it later." He cast a look at Giles. "Um, Ahn, can I talk to Giles about guy stuff for a sec?"
Giles's gaze slipped to Anya, who smiled broadly. "Oh, be my guest," she said brightly, though she didn't move, instead looking from Xander to him and back again. It seemed, after a moment, she got the idea and frowned. "Oh. This would be the kind of guy stuff you don't want me to hear about? Damn." She sighed and then stood up, obviously disappointed. "I'll just go count the tiles in the bathroom."
She slumped away and Giles had to bite his lips to keep from chuckling. Of course, one look to Xander and the urge to laugh died quickly. Xander looked down to the floor and Giles found himself doing the same, both of them silent and the tension thick in the air between them. Giles shifted awkwardly, that act apparently breaking whatever dam that had held back Xander's words.
"You said you'd help me through this," Xander finally muttered, angry. "You said you would and I . . . Giles . . ." He looked up and the hurt in his eyes made Giles' chest constrict.
"I think it's better if just you and Anya go and . . . I think that, perhaps, it would be good for the two of you to . . . talk. Without my presence making things more difficult." Giles thought there was a flash of understanding in those deep brown eyes, but Xander's next words were discouraging.
"Anya's going to be there," he said softly. "You don't have to worry that I'll . . ." Xander looked away, apparently unable to finish the sentence.
"Xander . . ." Giles shook his head, wanting to explain, but the hurt on Xander's face, the way he was clenching his jaw, his posture tight . . . Giles couldn't bring himself to ignore the obvious distress, even if it meant spending a weekend watching Xander and Anya together. If Anya told him one more intimate detail, Giles was almost certain he'd growl with his frustration. Still, sighing, he gave in because he found he couldn't say 'no', not when Xander needed him. Not Buffy, not Willow, not . . . Anya. Not help in general, but him.
"Fine. I'll . . . I'll go," he said softly, though what he was thinking was more along the lines of, This is going to be hell.
Xander went to get Anya so that they could leave. Giles didn't move from his seat, at first, staring at the coffee table, more moody than he wanted to admit. He did his best to hide it, putting on a smile for Anya and Xander and quickly ushering them out the door. Xander shot him a confused look from over his shoulder, but Giles was simply . . . tired.
He shut the door and leaned against it, putting his forehead to the cool wood. Images ran through his mind, thoughts of Xander and Anya sitting on the couch together interspersed with he and Xander there just the night before, Xander's sleeping weight against his side.
'Hell' was perhaps an understatement.
He finally made his way to bed, after fussing around his flat, dusting what didn't need dusted, straightening what didn't need straightened. He was tired, exhausted, but he knew his mind wasn't going to let him sleep. He'd learned the signs of that, if nothing else, over the years.
Giles tossed and turned, his mind returning to Xander lying on his bed, sprawled out and half-naked, trying to hide his self-conscious thoughts by not reaching for the blanket to cover that long, beautiful body. Giles couldn't keep himself from remembering that Xander had been hard, his erection jutting against the sweatpants, visible and . . . so very hard. For him.
That's not the way it was and you know it, he growled at himself, turning over again and trying to ignore his rather insistent erection, one that both refused to go away and refused to allow him to find a comfortable position. He needed comfort and I took advantage. He needed to feel wanted, that was all. It didn't matter, then, who did the wanting.
More memories flooded him, as if trying to dispute that argument. Xander pressed tight against him, their erections rubbing together through the worn material of their sweatpants. Xander's hands on his body, Xander's breath hot on his neck.
Rupert
Giles growled, turning over onto his back and letting his hand slip into his pajama bottoms, grasping his precum-slick cock and stripping it quickly. As if making this fast would keep him from thinking of Xander's body, pressed against him, laid out for him, hard and wanting.
Uh, with-with a guy. How different is it?
And Giles' traitorous mind was off and running, picturing the ways he could show Xander. Xander on his knees and looking up at him. Giles gasped, swiping his thumb over the head of his prick. Xander on all fours, back bowing as Giles pushed into him. Giles slid his free hand down to cup his balls, rolling them between his fingers. Xander's face as Giles teasingly sucked at his cock. Giles' head tilted back, eyes closing to see it all better, betraying him, though he was too far gone to care. Xander's body, slick with sweat, arching up, hips bucking as Giles took him slowly.
Groaning, Giles came, hips jerking, pumping his cock into his own hand. As he reached for a handful of tissues and cleaned himself, Giles was haunted by visions of waking up to that shy smile, to deep brown eyes and a ridiculous grin, to Xander curled against his side.
Sleep did not come for far too long a time.
-----
Giles slammed his hand down on his alarm clock, squinting at it to make sure he hadn't accidentally set it for an earlier than usual time. Sighing, he reached for his glasses and put them on. He couldn't actually force himself to get out of bed just yet, but he was heading in that direction.
He in no way dozed.
At least, that's what he told himself a half an hour later when a knocking at the door had him startling to his feet. Grabbing for his robe, Giles made his way down the stairs, his mind too fuzzy to imagine scenarios that would explain someone knocking at his door at eight in the morning.
Giles pulled opened the door and found himself blinking once again, not sure he'd actually woken up at all. Xander stood outside his door with a box of donuts and an unsure smile.
"Oh, uh, I'm sorry," Xander began, his nervous shifting suddenly making Giles realize that he'd been staring. "I didn't expect you to still be in bed. I just wanted to, you know, return the favor. The breakfast favor! Um, I know it's not pancakes and eggs and bacon, but, like I said, I never saw you eat real food before noon before yesterday and I don't know how to cook. Well, I can do those toaster things, but I didn't think you'd like those and I figured they'd probably get cold before I got here and--"
"Xander?" Giles found himself smiling. He moved to one side so that Xander could enter. "Why don't you set the donuts on the counter. I'll, uh, I'll just go get dressed."
Xander's eyes slipped down to his robe and then back up. "Right. 'Cause a dressed Giles is a happy Giles." There was something slightly bitter to Xander's voice. "Uh, okay, can we just pretend I never said that?" Xander nodded, a little too quickly, his face blushing crimson as he stepped past Giles.
Giles closed his eyes for a moment, forcing himself not to think about those words, that tone, not to analyze them. Shutting the door, he turned and headed for the stairs. "I'll, uh, I'll be right back," he said over his shoulder, not quite ready to face Xander.
"Right! I'll get everything ready. I got a bunch of jelly donuts, 'cause you make such a big deal when they're gone. It isn't like I ate the last one on purpose, you know. I don't have to be to work until nine, so I thought it would be, uh, nice if I returned the breakfast favor. Did I already say that?"
Giles realized with a slight start that it was rather nice to listen to Xander babble. It filled the flat, took away the silence that sometimes seemed oppressive, but Giles didn't have to respond, didn't have to even listen, for the most part. He grabbed the first pair of sweats he found, dressing quickly. Part of him wanted to shower, shave, fully wake up before he had anything to do with breakfast, but Xander would have to leave soon and . . . That thought gave him pause, made him wonder if it wouldn't be better if he did go through his morning rituals. The fact that he would have less time with Xander was both the up and down side. It was probably better if he did spend as little time with Xander as he could reasonably manage. Better for both of them if he made himself scarce.
But was it? Xander was going through so much. It must be hard to not only find out that he was half demon, but to also be realizing his sexuality was more complicated then he'd expected . . . Giles swallowed hard, trying to work through the tangle of thoughts. Was he simply justifying his desire to be near Xander? Would pulling away while Xander was in such a state be selfish?
Sighing, Giles closed his eyes, Xander's babble filling the flat, background noise to Giles' own rollercoaster thoughts. Xander kept coming to him, seeking him out, but Giles couldn't pin down why, not with his own wants and desires getting in the way. He couldn't trust his own judgment. The revelation came in a flash of searing emotion, so many different feelings he couldn't quantify them all. Desire, longing, hurt and fear were just the most easily definable.
Good lord. What was he going to do?
Giles descended the stairs more confused than he had been just minutes ago. If he couldn't trust his own motives, his own judgment, what could he do? The last thing he wanted was to wind up hurting Xander, or Anya. Perhaps it would be better to distance himself now, to hurt Xander a little now and avoid--God, he was in deep trouble.
"You know, you need more orange juice. Or do you want coffee? I can make coffee. It's not really cooking so it's not against the 'male and under twenty-five rule'. Okay, so I kinda made that rule up myself and nobody would care if I broke it, but . . . you're a rules kinda guy. Right? I mean, yeah, rules can be good and all, but some rules you just gotta break."
Giles stopped on his way to the kitchen, his eyes snapping to Xander's face through the pass-through. Xander looked horrified at what he'd just said, but it was more his tone that had caught Giles' attention. They stood, staring at one another, the air crackling with mutual tension. Giles' throat and chest were tight with thoughts and emotions he refused to name. Not now. There would be plenty of time to analyze and curse, but later.
He cleared his throat, looking away and finally breaking the moment. "I'll just, uh, I'll make the coffee," Giles said, not letting himself think about why Xander's face fell for an instant before he slapped on a fake smile.
"Right, I'll go, uh . . . get out the donuts." Xander pushed past him and Giles felt guilty for a moment before he pushed it aside. Now wasn't the time, later. When Xander had gone and Giles had nothing to do all day but stock shelves and pretend interest in his customers.
Silence filled the flat once again and Giles flailed for something somewhat safe for them to discuss. "So, uh, have you and Anya discussed the trip?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. Uh, we talked about it last night. She thinks it'll be fun, camping and stuff. She, uh, says sleeping under the stars should be romantic." There was a bewildered tone to Xander's voice and Giles couldn't help but laugh. Unfortunately, he thought it might be slightly hysterical. Was there any topic of conversation that was safe? "What? What's funny? I mean, she says it like I should know, but the only time I've ever camped out was . . . well, let's just say that it wasn't for the fun of sleeping outside."
"Well," Giles finally said, pouring out two cups of coffee and setting one down in front of Xander before he took his seat. "It's just that you sounded so . . . confused," Giles shrugged, reaching for a jelly.
"Well, I am," Xander said with a snort. "I don't know. Sometimes I just don't get Anya. It's like . . . she's got all these expectations and I do my best, but I don't know what all of them are and she's always surprising me with something new and . . ." Xander shrugged and Giles looked up to see him staring morosely at his donut.
It tugged at Giles' heart, made him want to help even though he knew he shouldn't get involved. That was the one thing of which he was sure, in fact, that he really shouldn't get any deeper into this mess. Playing relationship councilor to a couple when he flinched inside every time he saw them touch . . . it was a very bad idea, to say the least.
But Xander looked so sad.
"Surprises can be good," he finally said, turning his eyes to his own donut, his chest clenching tight. "And sometimes it's a person's unpredictability that, uh, that draws one. Never being certain what's going to come next. It can be . . . a thrill." Giles smiled a bit sadly at that. Wanting to shake his head at himself. That had been why he'd first been drawn to Ethan, really. That mad, mischievous glint in the man's eyes, never knowing what he would do next and whether or not it would get them all killed. Xander had that effect on him too, though in a far safer and more amusing way. He never knew what Xander was going to say next, what he was going to do. Realizing Xander hadn't said anything, Giles looked up to find Xander looking at him with curious eyes and an indecipherable smile. "What?"
"Uh, just . . . I don't know. You looked like . . . I don't know. Like maybe you were somewhere else?" There was a slight blush on Xander's cheeks and Giles didn't know what to make of it. Xander couldn't possibly have known what he was thinking. Giles almost panicked until Xander finished his thought. "Was that what you liked about Ethan?"
Giles blinked, wondering how Xander had figured that out--well, really, Ethan and Chaos, perhaps it wasn't such a leap after all. Why Xander wanted to discuss it, that was the real question, unfortunately, Giles had no idea as to the answer.
"Uh," he looked back to his donut, surprised that he was actually considering answering. "Yes," he finally said with a snort. "Ethan was full of surprises. Of course, one could never be sure those surprises wouldn't attempt to eat one's skin."
Xander laughed and Giles couldn't help but join in, the sound loosening something inside him, relaxing him though he knew he shouldn't let it.
"Did that actually happen?" Xander turned toward him, leaning against the pass-through, body relaxed and dark eyes shining. Why was it always eyes like that? "Did something really try that?"
Giles laughed, nodding and putting down his donut. He turned toward Xander, soaking in that smile, the pure enjoyment on the young man's face. "Ethan found this job for us to do. We were, uh, we were supposed to summoning a Mephit to, uh, to clip its toenails," Giles couldn't keep himself from laughing at the incredulity on Xander's face.
"Someone hired you to clip a demon's toenails?"
"Uh, well, they were needed for some spell or another. I didn't ask what, but something like that is hardly a one person job. Someone's got to be there to make sure the thing doesn't escape and someone else has got to do the clipping and it's even better if you can have a few people hold that damn thing down if you can't reach an agreement--"
"An agreement?" Xander laughed, shaking his head. "You mean you guys were going to . . . what, trade it something for its toenails?"
"Yes," Giles answered, getting into his story now. He hadn't thought about the incident in years and he wasn't about to mention some aspects of the story, such as what they'd eventually wound up trading, but it felt good to tell it and it felt good to see Xander smile. "However, we wound up, not with a Mephit, but with a Kaibiri, which is a close cousin. Close enough that we didn't think it would bother the spell. Only Kaibiri aren't nearly as calm and are apparently quite vain about their feet. Or, at least, this one was."
The time passed so quickly, both of them laughing as Giles told Xander how the Kaibiri had threatened to skin them all if even one of them touched its feet. Before he knew it, Xander was glancing at his watch. The disappointed look that crossed Xander's face shouldn't have made Giles feel good, but it was nice to see.
"I have to go," Xander said with a shrug. "Work. Uh, but . . . this was really fun and, uh, would . . . would you mind if we did it again?" Xander asked as he stood, backing toward the door and grabbing his coat of the hook.
"Of course," Giles said before he could catch himself. He watched Xander leave with a feeling of dread, especially when Xander smiled at him over his shoulder before shutting the door.
God, what was he doing? He stood, hands automatically reaching to clean up, though his mind was firmly elsewhere, running along a tangle of thoughts that left him cursing himself. Xander was still confused, and Giles was the only one to know, apparently, about his sudden revelation. It only made sense that Xander might seek him out, really. Xander was discovering that he wasn't straight and while Willow had gone through the same thing, Giles was male and had experience in that area. Which was, of course, why Xander was interested in hearing about Ethan.
Giles tried to turn his mind elsewhere. He cleaned up quickly and then set about getting ready. He took more time than he normally would and even he wasn't sure why. It might have been that he was putting off seeing Anya at the Magic Box or, equally as likely, that he didn't want to start his day and leave breakfast behind. Either way, it was silly and Giles tried to force himself to hurry, especially through his shower, during which thoughts of Xander were particularly dangerous.
He made it to the shop only a little later than he normally found acceptable, but Anya was busy enough stalking their two customers that she didn't even glance at him. Giles made quick work of dropping his things off and getting to the training room to begin unpacking the latest deliveries, relaxing into the familiar, routine task. Unfortunately, it didn't require much of his mind, which meant that his thoughts kept circling back to Xander and to Anya.
-----
Sighing, he put the stock aside. Hours of unpacking boxes, putting things away, trying not to look at Anya, staying mostly in the basement or the training room so that he didn't have to talk to her, none of it had helped. Kneeling on the training room floor, staring through Buffy's heavy bag, Giles decided it was time to stop pretending. Somehow, he'd worked his way into an enormous mess and now he had to stop ignoring it and start extricating himself.
Xander was off limits. He knew that, had always known that. No matter how he felt or what he wanted, that was the one truth he had to accept. It was the only way to start to make this easier. Nodding to himself, he closed his eyes, listing the reasons he could never even consider forgetting that. Xander didn't want him. Xander loved Anya. Xander was far too young for him. Xander was a friend. Xander was exceedingly confused right now. Giles thought most of his trouble had begun the other night. Xander had kissed him and it had lit a spark he'd never quite had before. The feel of Xander's body against his, the feel of his lips and . . . Giles cut that line of thought off, sitting up and opening his eyes.
Xander was off limits.
With that basic truth laid down, it was time to move to the other questions and Giles didn't know where to begin. He wanted to help. Having seen the desperation in Xander's eyes that night, he knew what was lurking underneath. Xander said he wanted to ignore it, but Giles had seen the confusion and the heartache and he couldn't ignore that, couldn't simply turn his back to it. Even if it hurt him to see Xander and Anya together he'd better damn well get used to it. Xander wanted his help, for whatever reason. That night, the way Xander had touched him, said his name . . . he had to forget about it. Whatever . . . revelations it had, apparently, inspired in Xander, Giles knew he was only tangentially part of it.
Xander had wanted comfort, and he'd discovered something about himself while seeking it. That didn't mean anything. Couldn't mean anything, other than Xander had twice as much to deal with. If Giles could help him, make this transition easier, he would.
Startled when he heard a throat being cleared, Giles looked up to find Anya standing in the doorway. He stood, telling himself he had nothing to feel guilty about even as he continued to feel it. She was standing straight, her arms crossed over her stomach in a way that made her looked vulnerable, hurt. "Uh, Anya. Hello. What, uh, what can I do for you?"
"I'm not stupid," she said and the bottom dropped out of Giles' stomach.
-----
Next Part