Shacking Up, 24
By
EntreNous

**********

Chapter Twenty-Four: “With Extras”

“Hey,” Oz said to Nathan. They were nearing the end of spring term, and to celebrate they’d planned for him and Willow to come to Nathan’s apartment for dinner. He swung through the open door and dropped his bag in the hall.

Nathan smiled. “Hey yourself. You know you’re early?”

“Could be.” Oz shrugged out of his jacket. “Lost my watch a while ago.”

“Oz, you’re over an hour early.”

Oz cocked his head to the side, sweeping his eyes up and down Nathan. “That right? You need any help with stuff?”

“Nah.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah.”

They regarded each other for a few moments, and then scrambled into the bedroom.

Nathan kissed Oz hard, thrusting his tongue through Oz’s willing lips. One hand threaded through Oz’s hair, the other massaged at his lower back. They parted to breathe, panting slightly, and then Nathan’s eyes shone with humor as he shoved Oz down on the bed with one hand.

“Okay then,” Oz remarked when Nathan was on top of him, all over him, just a moment later. “Not that I mind . . . oh god . . . but what’s the rush?”

“Just haven’t seen you in a couple of days,” Nathan said. He pushed Oz’s t-shirt up, leaving it on, and trailed small bites down his chest.

“Yeah,” Oz breathed when Nathan moved lower down his body and pulled at the button fly until the jeans were open.

Nathan murmured something incomprehensible and trailed a finger up and down Oz’s erection. He brushed soft lips against the tip, at the rim of the head, and going further down mouthed Oz’s sac.

Oz thrust up quickly with a choked sound, and Nathan pressed his hips back down with a firm hand. “Stop that.”

“Fuck,” Oz said hoarsely.

“Just be patient for a sec.”

“Patient, huh? Not helping where you’re saying that,” Oz muttered, twisting under Nathan’s hot breath.

“What?” Nathan asked in an innocent whisper. He pulled off Oz’s jeans all the way with one hand and pushed his legs up with the other. When he blew along Oz’s crease lightly, pausing to dart his tongue out against the small opening, Oz let out a cry.

“Tease,” Oz murmured when Nathan moved away.

“Hey,” Nathan objected mildly. “You’re only a tease if you don’t follow through. And look. Here’s me, following through.” He eased up and slid his mouth tightly down Oz’s cock.

“Damn,” Oz said quietly. He raised himself on elbows to watch himself thrusting into Nathan’s mouth. Nathan’s eyelashes fluttered when Oz combed his fingers through his hair, gently resting his palm on his cheek and guiding him.

“That’s it,” Oz whispered when Nathan moved a hot palm under his balls and caressed them. “Oh . . . yeah. . .” he groaned when the strokes sped up.

Nathan slid his hands underneath Oz’s lower back, pulling him up and encouraging him wordlessly to thrust faster. Oz gasped and obliged, twisting and pushing into Nathan’s soft hot mouth. One of Nathan’s hands crept up, rubbing hard at Oz’s nipple, and . . .

“Oh . . .” Oz shuddered, shooting into Nathan’s mouth. He lay there panting as Nathan kissed his way back up. Nathan stroked his chest slowly, and their lips came together in a languid kiss.

“You totally started without me,” Willow said in amazement. “You guys suck big time.”

“Um . . . hi?” Oz said blearily from the bed. Nathan slid off the mattress hastily, and Oz sat up and put his jeans back on while Willow remained rooted in the doorway.

“I was coming over to see if Nathan needed help, and . . . here I thought having an extra key was a good thing.” Willow frowned.

Nathan rubbed his head sheepishly. “Sorry . . . just . . . Oz was early, and . . . ”

Oz sighed and looked at Willow. “Hey, it’s not like you guys didn’t do the same thing to me last week.”

Willow sputtered. “What? That was different. It so wasn’t planned! I didn’t know that Nathan was going to be wearing that dark blue polo shirt when I came over to study with him. He was completely irresistible!”

“Really?” Nathan asked with interest. “The blue one?” Then he shook his head. “Well, you guys get together without me, too. Just last Thursday I called to make plans and you both were in Oz’s room. I mean, that’s fine. I’ve only been on the scene for a little bit, and I know that. It does make me feel a little left out, though.”

“Well, there is that whole living on campus thing. And you’re here, so . . .” Willow started. Oz nodded in agreement.

“But you have a spare key?” Oz asked Willow in confusion. She opened her palm to show him the key chain, and he eyed it with an odd look on his face.

“Yeah, I should have given you both . . .” Nathan started, and then shook his head.

“It’s . . . it’s not a problem. Maybe there’s been some weirdness getting used to this, but it’s not like we can’t all hang out separately. Or, you know, together,” Oz offered.

“Together is always good,” Nathan said with a small smile.

“So we should be able to deal,” Oz said. Nathan nodded.

“It’s just strange sometimes,” Willow said sadly.

They both turned to Willow, apprehension on their faces.

“Is it too strange?” Nathan asked.

“No, but . . . I don’t know . . . oh, come on, I can’t talk about this in here.” Willow motioned them to follow her, and they shifted from the bedroom to the living room.

Once they were settled on the couch there, Nathan took a deep breath. “So.”

Oz glanced at Willow.

“Yeah,” she said uncertainly.

“The weird and the strange. Okay. I guess if we’re trying to get things out on the table . . . I do come over here sometimes after shows by myself,” Oz said with a shrug. “Nathan’s place is right near the Bronze, and--”

“And Willow and I end up hanging out on campus afternoons,” Nathan said hesitantly. “Because of the psychology class we have together.”

“You’re in her class?” Oz asked in confusion.

“So are you; it’s just that you never show,” Willow reminded him.

“Oh, that class,” Oz nodded.

Willow twisted her hands together for a moment. “You know, maybe I’m not cool enough to handle this.”

Nathan opened his mouth, shut it, then opened it again. “It has nothing to do with being cool, Willow, but if you’re not happy . . .”

“It’s not that I’m not happy, but I’m not not unhappy,” Willow said.

“Could you translate that one?” Oz asked doubtfully.

“I’m not . . .” Willow gestured and then sighed. “I like this. I like both of you. And all the individual stuff has been good . . . but I feel strange on the overall front. Jealous when I’m not with you guys if you’re hanging out just the two of you, kind of guilty if I’m just with one of you, sort of still feeling out the dynamic when we’re all together. And it’s not like I have lots of practice with relationships in general. Plus this? Not so much with the precedents, at least with the people I know.”

“It’s true that this is a new thing,” Oz said. “Maybe we’re not talking about it enough.”

“Maybe you guys need some time alone,” Nathan said, his eyes fixed on the floor.

“Maybe both those things,” Willow said with a pained look. “But then time alone . . . does that mean that I have time alone with Oz? What if Oz doesn’t want to have the time alone thing, and wants to see you, Nathan? Is it fair for me to ask him to back off because I’m uncomfortable?” She blinked quickly and looked away. “Or maybe time alone means being away from both of you for a little while.”

“No!” Oz said quickly.

“I’m sorry, I just . . .” “Willow gathered up her things quickly and left.

There was a long silence. Then Oz and Nathan regarded one another.

“I should . . .” Oz trailed off.

“Of course,” Nathan mumbled.

“Okay. I’ll . . . we’ll talk,” Oz said. He paused at the door. “Um. Bye.”

“Bye,” Nathan said quietly.

***

Xander shoved the last box of Spike’s stuff in through the door and took a deep breath. Okay. For real. He was now officially living with one hot, albeit undead, guy. Not in a roommate-y way. In a living with way. With all the extras.

Davy had come to get his stuff a few days earlier. Buffy had supervised the entire operation, and reported that it had been accomplished relatively quickly and quietly.

“Did you help him with his stuff?” Xander had asked when she told him about the afternoon.

“Nope,” Buffy said cheerfully. “I just watched him lurch around with the boxes. He needs to build some upper body strength, you know?”

“What did you do the whole time he was here?” Xander asked curiously.

“My nails,” Buffy explained. She held them out for him to see. “Pale buff. You like?”

“Very nice. And he didn’t . . . I don’t know, try to grill you about anything, or make any comments?”

“He did ask me about my bag, where I got it,” Buffy said thoughtfully. “And I told him that I liked his brown shoes. Turns out that they’re both Kenneth Cole. I’ll miss the fashion commiseration, that’s for sure. But that was it. No grilling and no remarks, snide or catty or nosy or otherwise.”

“Good, that’s good,” Xander had said.

“What comes next?” Buffy asked with a grin.

“Next, I move Spike in.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. Wow.”

And now here they were.

“So!” Xander said in an overly bright voice. “Here we are!”

“Yeah,” Spike said. He seemed perplexed by Xander’s announcement. “Here we are.”

Xander paused. “Are you as weirded out as I am?”

Spike shot him an annoyed look. “No! ‘Course not. Just adjusting is all.”

“Right,” Xander said sarcastically. “I’m freaking. You’re adapting.”

Tilting his head, Spike considered that. “Yeah, good word that. Adapting. Freak away. While you do that, I’ll just see what’s on the telly.”

“No way,” Xander said with a firm shake of his head. “You have to hang out with me while I wig out, and talk me through it. That’s what relationships are all about.”

“Relationships?” Spike asked in confusion. “I thought we were just living together.”

Xander exhaled. “Living together . . . this way? With extras? Means we’re in a relationship. This isn’t just the fun groin-y stuff . . . it’s . . . other stuff too! Okay?”

Spike’s eyes appeared to have glazed over.

“What?” Xander asked impatiently.

A smile spread across Spike’s face, and if there was anyone who could smile through flashes of impatience, sweetness, and just plain predatory scheming, it was Spike. “You said living together . . . with extras . . .”

“Yeah,” Xander said. For some reason he was having a hell of a time swallowing. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Spike was advancing on him. “So . . . what happens next?”

“C’mon then,” Spike almost-purred, and Xander let Spike take his hand and lead him dumbly to the bedroom. Yeah. So much for the talking.

Xander had thought that this moment would be rushed, frantic, and moving at the speed of light towards the inevitable conclusion of full-on, slightly scary man-sex.

But instead Spike kissed him slowly, sliding his t-shirt up and off in a fluid motion, then pulling his own off casually. They parted their lips almost at the same time, and there were small breathy sounds that made Xander start to quiver and begin to pull at Spike’s head, forcing him closer. When Spike coaxed Xander onto the bed, rubbing his shoulders while he continued to draw harder on his lips, Xander settled in with anticipation and nervousness clear on his face.

“This is what happens next?” Xander asked with widening eyes as Spike continued rubbing down Xander’s sides, his fingers tracing the line over the top edge of Xander’s jeans, dipping in slightly to ghost over the skin underneath.

“Whatever you want,” Spike murmured. “Not going anywhere now, am I?”

“No,” Xander whispered. “You’re staying.”

“Right then,” Spike nodded. He gazed intently at Xander before gathering him in his arms and holding him tightly.

“We should have a dinner party,” Xander’s muffled voice pronounced against Spike’s neck.

“We should what?” Spike asked a little too loudly right into Xander’s ear. Xander made a displeased noise at the rise in tone, so Spike let go of Xander with a sigh and sat on his heels, holding his hands up like he was ceding the floor.

“Oh . . . I mean . . . you don’t have to stop.” Xander glanced down. Spike looked vaguely impatient, but he drew Xander’s chin back up gently with his hand.

“What, Xander?”

“It’s just that you’re here now, and you aren’t going. And I want you not to be going. So dinner party -- that’s what you do when you’re a non-roommate-y, living-with-somebody type person . . . and/or vampire, of course . . . Because you want everyone to know and be glad for you. And then they all bring wine, and kind of approve of everything, and after you all get drunk and eat lots of things together, you know they’ve got your back.”

“And this is important why?” Spike asked.

“Because it helps. It makes it . . . official. It bolsters everything. It gets everyone in on the deal and ties it together tighter.”

Spike twisted his lips as he pondered this.

“People bring wine?”

“They have to . . . it’s like the most important dinner party rule.”

“Well, if there’s going to be lots of wine,” Spike said with a grin. Xander rolled his eyes, and Spike continued. “This matters to you?”

“Yeah. Everyone’s been sort of involved from . . . way back . . . in this thing with us --”

“Probably would have been better if they hadn’t been,” Spike observed.

“And they’re part of all the things that I do, so yeah, it matters,” Xander went on, glaring at Spike.

“Okay then. You want it. We’ll do it.”

“Okay.” Xander released a deep breath and smiled widely.

“Right then,” Spike said with raised brows, and started undoing Xander’s jeans button by button, nuzzling his way towards Xander’s cock.

***

“Alright, what the hell is going on?” Buffy said. She stood in the hallway outside Nathan’s apartment with her hands clenched into tiny fists and crossed her arms.

“What?” Nathan asked weakly. When he’d heard the sharp little knock at his door, he hadn’t exactly expected to find Buffy there.

Buffy jabbed him in the chest with an accusing finger. “Willow. Is crying in our room right now. She’s not taking Oz’s calls. And she refuses to say what’s going on. So I’m thinking that you have some explaining to do.”

Nathan blinked, stepped aside, and waved her in. “Hi, Buffy.”

Buffy stomped in and sat down on the couch in a huff. “So talk.”

Nathan sat on the other end of the couch and stared straight ahead. “Oz and Willow . . . I really want to be with them. I thought that they both were okay with it, but now I’m thinking they’re not okay.”

Buffy gave him an impatient look and he continued. “Oz came over and . . . we started up. Willow got here and was surprised, upset. We tried to talk about it. Then Willow left. Oz went after her. And here I am. That’s it.”

“Oh,” Buffy said in confusion. “Started up . . . what do you . . . oh! . . . Oh, wow.” She uncrossed her arms, crossed them again, and then frowned at her fists.

“Hey, Buffy? If you’re going to start hitting me, can you wait a little bit?” Nathan asked in a weary voice. “This has been a hell of a night.”

Buffy nodded, not looking directly at Nathan. “Sounds like.”

“Okay,” Nathan said sadly. “You can wait out here if you want. I’m just going to go lie down for a little while.”

“All right,” Buffy said in a quiet voice. “And Nathan? Just so you know -- I’m probably not going to beat you up or anything.”

“Good to know,” Nathan replied with a slow nod.

“I’m . . . I don’t know what I think about all of this, but I’m sorry that you’re hurting. That all of you are.”

“Me too.” Nathan shut the door quietly behind him and Buffy hugged her arms to herself on the couch and tried to think about what should happen next.

********