Shacking Up, 11
By
EntreNous

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Chapter Nineteen: Field Guides

Xander peered around the corner of Personal Growth and checked to see that no one was headed his way from Parenting or Photography.

He hunched over and eased behind the section he’d been making his way towards ever since he’d entered the bookstore an hour and a half ago. Xander sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he asked himself again what the hell he was doing here.

Unfortunately, he had a list of reasons that prevented him from fleeing the scene.

First the conversation with Spike at the crypt about whether he was attractive to men.

Then the shoulder-holding with Davy, still classified under the “possible come-on” category.

Then he’d had the unexpected dream about Spike *and* Davy.

Then Giles had pretty much figured out from his dream that he was having dirty thoughts about boys, and had practically told him to go buy condoms and lube.

But none of it meant anything, his inner voice protested. All he’d had was one freakin’ dream, one totally unreal scenario with two guys, one single unconscious fantasy about Spike, and Davy, and him, all together, on his bed, naked and . . . uh . . . damn! Fuck!

Xander shifted uncomfortably, scanning the shelves for a large book to hold in front of his pants as he thought of some of the more graphic details of his dream.

Stupid subconscious, he groused. What the hell had Willow called it when she was helping Buffy study for the psych midterm -- the id? After listening to Willow repeat it fifteen times even Xander had picked up the terms. Idiotic id -- it couldn’t just stay all hidden like it was supposed to during the waking hours. No, it had to go and make a special surprise guest appearance right in the middle of the bookstore.

Bad thing about being a guy -- even when his brain was screaming “straight, straight here, straight man coming through,” his stupid dick decided to stand up and stage an enthusiastic protest.

No matter how much Xander didn’t feel like dealing with the protest, recent events did seem to add up to some sort of pattern. Namely, the pattern of him being kind of gay.

So what was he doing skulking around in the bookstore? Well, he was a Scooby after all. If he couldn’t annihilate the unknown stuff that was bugging him, he’d try to research it. Hence he’d undertaken this trip expressly to poke around furtively in the G’s for fun facts on the topic of guys being extra-friendly with other guys. Only once he’d gotten to the G’s, a sign told him to head for Q’s, because . . .

Queer Studies / LGB Lifestyles. Oh great, he thought. People study this like Giles studies demonology? Seemed like it, because there were way more books here than Xander had thought there’d be.

The only problem was he had no idea where he should begin his search. He paused for a moment before slowly heading to the “Lifestyles” part of the aisle.

He squinted, and cocked his head to the right to study the titles. “The Joy of Gay Sex” -- was that like the “Joy of Cooking”? Pre-heat, oil, and prick to test for doneness? Gah!

Okay, calming breaths. Could be that’d be a good one to look at, since there were a bunch of copies of it. It was obviously a popular choice for, uh . . . people who wanted to read the books in this section.

But when he reached out to pick up a copy, he froze. Wasn’t he going overboard a little, heading right for the sex positions guide?

He scanned the shelves with frustration. Why couldn’t there be a book called “So You’re Having Wet Dreams About Threesomes with Your Male Friends: Explanations About Why You’re Not a Freak”? That, he’d buy.

Hmmm. Maybe the extra-pervy section was somewhere else.

Back over to the Queer Studies part of the aisle. Surely someone would want to explain how this (whatever it was) was normal stuff, no cause for concern. Okay. There was “Queer in America: Sex, the Media, and the Closets of Power”. Hesitantly, Xander turned that one over, but when he saw the words “written by the pioneer of outing celebrities,” on the back, he dropped the book hastily.

“Hey, Xander,” a male voice called out, and Xander sprinted down the aisle towards . . . okay, onto the R’s now . . . Reference. He snatched the closest book, and jerked his head up with a goofy grin, pretending to be pleasantly surprised to see Nathan headed his way.

“Hey,” he said weakly to Nathan, who turned his head sidewise to check out the book Xander had grabbed.

Nathan looked up with raised eyebrows. “Xander, is there something you’re not telling me?”

Xander turned scarlet, and turned over the book warily to check what title he’d ended up with. “Emily Post's Wedding Etiquette: Cherished Traditions and Contemporary Ideas for a Joyous Celebration (4th Edition),” he read out loud slowly, and glanced at Nathan with a despairing look on his face.

“Don’t worry, Xander,” Nathan said with a grin. “You can trust me not to reveal you’re embarking on a secret career as a wedding planner.”

“I don’t think that this is what I thought it was,” Xander said in confusion, and then shoved the book back onto the shelf. “Um . . . what’re you up to?”

“Looking for presents for my family for the holidays,” Nathan said. At Xander’s bewildered look, he explained. “We’re pretty secular, but when the big Jewish holidays come around, we try to do some kind of family activities. ‘Course, being so secular, sometimes we miss the *actual* holiday and have to reschedule some kind of thing to mark it. My sister said that this year instead of feeling guilty about not observing Rosh Hashanah and/or Yom Kippur, we should try to give each other books that encourage personal growth.”

“There’s Personal Growth,” Xander pointed out, gesturing to the aisle nearby.

Nathan laughed easily. “Yeah, thanks for the directional. I picked out this one for my dad already -- “The Gigantic Book of Cookie Recipes”. If that doesn’t encourage personal growth, I don’t know what will.”

Xander nodded wisely, and shifted back and forth on his feet. “You want some help thinking of other titles for other gifts?”

Nathan shrugged. “Maybe I’ll get to the others later -- I got distracted over in the graphic novels section, and I don’t have a ton of time to get lunch before class. You hungry?”

“You know I’m pretty much always hungry,” Xander said truthfully. “You do recall that it was me who ate all the weird vegan corn dogs that were in your freezer the last time I was over. And I didn’t even like them. Plus I ate them while they were still frozen. But I’ve got to run some errands while the stores are still open, so no lunching for me. Let’s hang out sometime this week, though, and I’ll bring you some real snacks to make up for the ones I ate.”

“That’s fine. Hey, I might go catch this band I heard about later, if you want to come with for that.”

“That sounds like fun, but I have plans, I think,” Xander said regretfully, and then tried to remember what those plans were. Something about the Bronze, some kind of pool game. “Oh yeah, I’m meeting . . . Spike.”

Xander could almost hear the vamp’s voice in his head: “9 o’clock, pet. And don’t be late.” The only problem was, as he heard Spike’s words, all he could see was dream-Spike grinning, on top of him, twisting his hardness against Xander’s swollen cock.

Nathan watched as Xander flashed pink, then red, then a ghastly white as the blood drained from his face.

“Those must be some plans you have with Spike,” he said casually. “Well, come on. I’m going to buy this book. And, go on ahead; I’m just going to grab another one that would make a good present for someone.” He motioned to Xander, who stumbled ahead of him unsteadily.

Xander cursed himself as he waited outside the store for Nathan to finish up his purchases. Why couldn’t he have gone to a bookstore outside town limits? He was pretty sure Nathan hadn’t figured out what he’d been looking for in the aisle. But he didn’t want to mess things up with the only guy he was hanging out with that he hadn’t yet had sexual dreams about.

It’d be just his luck if Nathan got the wiggins about Xander’s newfound identity confusion. What if Nathan could somehow *tell* that Xander was having groiny feelings about not just one guy, but two. What was wrong with him? If he was going to go all gay, couldn’t he just keep one guy friend, just a friend, in the picture?

“All set,” Nathan said, sliding into step alongside Xander. They faced each other in front of the store. “Oh, and this is for you,” Nathan remarked as he handed out a bag from the bookstore.

“Huh? Why? What?” Xander asked uncertainly.

“For your own personal growth,” Nathan grinned. “My New Year’s gift to you. And tell Spike I said ‘Hey’ when you see him later, alright?”

Xander mumbled his thanks, and watched as Nathan ambled off. Why would Nathan think he should get Xander something? And why would he want to send greetings to Spike, whom he’d never met?

He shrugged, and stuck his hand inside the bag.

Xander turned the book right side up, and read the title slowly: “Bi Any Other Name: Bisexual People Speak Out”.

Xander shoved the book back in the bag, turning a range of colors again.

Okay, so Nathan had obviously seen what section Xander had been browsing in, but he hadn’t seemed to freak out. Instead, he was buying Xander encouraging coming out literature? For Rosh Hashanah? What was up with that?

“Chocolate,” Xander murmured to himself uneasily. “I need lots and lots and lots of chocolate.”

***

“Going out tonight?” Clem asked cheerfully.

Spike was sitting in the rickety chair, completely ready to leave. Being that it was only seven o’clock, however, he was a bit ahead of schedule for his nine o’clock plans at the Bronze with Xander.

“Yeah,” he said shortly. He liked conversations with Clem, but at this moment he hoped the demon had plans to leave the crypt immediately.

“Dyed your hair today?” Clem asked, flopping down on the torn up couch.

“Yeah,” Spike responded darkly.

“Looks good, man,” Clem ventured.

Spike grunted.

“That a new shirt?” Clem inquired, flipping casually through Demon Babe!™ magazine.

“Yes,” Spike said through gritted teeth. Bloody hell, this wasn’t going to go on for the next hour and a half, was it?

“Red’s really your color, dude,” Clem announced with enthusiasm. “It’s like your signature or something. Hey, like I say, go for what works!”

“Clem, I know you’re trying to have a chat with me, but I don’t wish to speak right now,” Spike said haughtily.

“Do you know you sound like that Watcher guy when you talk like that, Spike?” Clem asked, leaning forward with interest. “How’s about you do that imitation down at Willie’s sometime? Everyone would buy you all the drinks and buffalo wings you could handle!”

“Oh, honestly, Clem!” Spike shouted hoarsely. Then he rolled his eyes and tried to collect himself. Clem was all right -- no need to shout at him, after all. Wouldn’t do to hurt his crypt-mate’s feelings.

But Clem didn’t seem offended. He just, well, sat there making faces.

Spike turned to watch this distraction more closely, but that only seemed to intensify the strangeness of the contortions flitting across Clem’s visage.

“Clem?” Spike asked with concern in his voice.

“Erk,” said Clem with a choked voice, his eyes opened as wide as they could go (well, not very wide at all, but if you knew him you could tell that this eye position was basically goggling for his species). “You had a question?”

“All right there?” Spike asked guardedly.

“Great -- just great, Spike. And you? You good?” Clem gave up trying to stop the facial twists, and covered his mouth and nose with his shaggy-skinned hand.

“Just relaxing a bit, then going out to play pool with Xander.” Spike remarked with forced diffidence.

“Right on,” Clem nodded with vigor.

Spike narrowed his eyes and twisted his mouth menacingly. “You know, mate, if I didn’t know better, I’d say that you’re feeling positively merry this evening.”

“Really?” Clem said with an overly-surprised tone.

“Yeah,” Spike said firmly, convinced now he was on to something. “Now the question is, what is it that’s making you merry? You’re amused by something. Care to share?”

“Uh, nothing really, Spike. Just feeling kinda antsy -- I probably shouldn’t have drunk up all the Fierce Melon Mountain Dew. You know, I think I’ll take a walk. I’ll just get up, and leave the crypt, and leave you here, to finish getting ready. For playing pool at the Bronze. With Xander.” Clem looked as though he was about to burst out with something, but managed to hold whatever it was in.

By the time Spike had a chance to react, Clem had gone into overdrive, grabbing a hooded sweatshirt, and hurrying out of the crypt with a wave.

Well, at least he was alone now. He could relax in peace until it was time to leave. No more distractions with Clem gone.

Spike glanced at the clock on the microwave. Twelve past seven. Bollocks! Maybe he should call Clem back?

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