Shacking Up, 5
By
EntreNous
Chapter Ten: Willow Talk
“Well, if I’ve said it once I’ll say it a hundred times. There’s almost no kinda tension that a good tickle fight can’t solve.”
“You speak the truth, Will.” Xander shifted the phone from one ear to another, and held the receiver in place with his shoulder. He tossed a burrito into the microwave and set the timer. “It’s weird, but it felt funny that things seemed to end badly with Spike moving out of here. I’m glad he came over yesterday.”
“Well, sure,” Willow responded. “I mean, he still has to come to Scooby meetings, and sometimes you’ll have to patrol together. Can’t have everything all, ‘Oh, well I wouldn’t do it that way,’ and ‘shut your trap, ya nonce,’ and ‘who asked you, Billy Idol,’ and ‘I’ll split yer head open with this axe! The three-day migraine will be wurf it!!!’ ”
“Yeah, that was a doozy of a meeting Tuesday,” Xander replied. “I wouldn’t have put tickling high on my list of ways to address the problem, but, hey, whatever works.”
“Plus you’re so tickle-able.”
“Why, thank you. And Will?”
“Yup?”
“What do you think of Davy?”
Willow paused at this shift in the conversation. “Davy? He seems nice, I guess. How have things been going?”
“Fine, I think. We seem to get by okay. Just that he seems a little -- ”
“What?”
“I dunno, down or something. Kinda quiet lately.”
“Well, he did just get out of a relationship, right? That’s gotta be a bit of a downer. Oh, and then there’s the move. My mom says that moving is so high on the list of events likely to cause trauma that . . . well, I think it’s right after death of a loved one or something.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah. Has he said anything about the . . . his previous living situation?”
“Honestly, I’d sort of forgotten about it until you brought it up.” Xander took the burrito out of the microwave and dropped it on the floor. Hothothot.
“Hmmm. I guess you could ask him about it, check in to see how he’s doing.”
“Oh, okay. Do I hafta? No, I know the answer to that one. I guess I was just enjoying the day-to-day, no-torturous-subtext phase of the roommate relationship. I don’t know if I want to find out all the crazy stuff in someone else’s life right now.”
“It’s like that Friends episode when Bruce Willis guest stars -- ”
“And Rachel wants him to open up to her, and spill his feelings -- ”
“Yes, and then the weeping commences, and he can’t stop crying.”
“I really am not set up for a weep fest. I don’t think we even have a box of tissues around.”
“Maybe there won’t be so much weeping. Why don’t you just bring it up and see what happens?”
“Okay. Say, what do you think you put on a burrito burn? Hand, not roof of mouth.”
“Guacamole,” she returned quickly.
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Chapter Eleven: Meeting Michael
“Xanderrrrr!!” Buffy paused for a moment in the middle of her door-abusing knocks and listened. “Open up! Come on, I can tell someone’s in there.”
She leaned her ear against the front entryway and straightened up to give the door a good hard kick. “Well, no big, right? If you’re too tired to shuffle on over here and open the door, I’ll just break the lock, ‘kay?”
“Uh, Buffy?” she heard from the stairwell.
Davy was coming up the stairs with some other guy. Equally drool worthy, Buffy noted, but probably also batting for the other team. Davy looked yummy, as always -- a dark green suede jacket that lit up his hazel eyes, worn over jeans that fit him way too well.
Buffy waved lamely at him after she caught her breath. Soooo not fair. All this sexiness completely off limits.
“Hi, Davy,” she began, and then turned to look curiously at the man who accompanied him.
“Michael,” the man told her shortly as he gave her the once over and looked away, bored already.
“Oh. Hi. Um, Davy, can you let me in? Xander has a couple of books of Giles’s -- I mean, of mine -- that I need for . . . class! For class, and I need to get them, pronto.”
“Xander has books of yours?” Davy grinned. “I’ll bet those spines are still intact -- I don’t see him reading much.”
“Well, yeah . . . I mean, you wouldn’t know it, but he’s kind of a closet bookworm,” Buffy improvised.
Michael for some reason seemed to find this amusing. “If that’s all he’s keeping in there . . . ” he trailed off knowingly.
Buffy narrowed her eyes back at him. Not knowing what he was acting all knowing about, she opened her mouth to say something when throat clearing coming from Davy distracted her.
“Well, I’ll let you in. I’m sure it’s not a problem; you can just pick them up. How is school, anyway?”
They entered the apartment together, chattering a bit. Buffy was so occupied with learning where Davy got his jacket and his leather shoulder bag that she didn’t notice Michael sniffing disdainfully at various items in the rooms.
Further conversation was interrupted, however, by a soft padding of feet towards the common room. Xander emerged from his room, running his hand through his hair and yawning, rumpled in a pair of thin boxers and the same ripped t-shirt that Spike had personalized the day before.
He nodded at the three of them, and then stretched his arms lazily over his head, the movement exposing the faint line of hair that curled from his belly button down into his boxers. “Hey,” he croaked out, and grabbed some juice from the fridge. He gave a small smile to the others and rolled his shoulders back a few times.
“Hey sleepy! Come back with me to your room -- I need to get those chronicles and herbals back, and I wanted to give you the scoop on some other . . . stuff.”
Davy and Michael watched as Buffy flounced down the hall and Xander followed after her languidly.
“Hey, Michael?” Davy said softly. “You can shut your mouth now.”
Michael had indeed been standing there with slackened jaw at the sight of Xander, but he turned toward Davy sharply.
“Well, well, well. I guess you weren’t kidding when you told me that you’d found convenient living arrangements.”
“Oh, come off it.” Davy returned. “There’s nothing going on. He’s great, he’s a sweetie, but we hardly even see each other, much less . . . And from what he says, I think he thinks he’s -- ”
“No way. No fucking way is he straight.” Michael flicked his hand in a dismissive gesture.
“Yeah, I think so too . . . especially after meeting Spike.”
“Who the hell is Spike?” Michael was starting to look furious, and Davy sighed.
“I don’t really know. He lived here right before I moved in. Xander hasn’t said much about him, but when he was around the other day it seemed pretty clear that they had been messing around. I have no idea where things stand with them, though.”
“Why? Did you hear them fucking or something?”
“No -- crass much? I walked in here and they were having some kind of tickling slash groping session on the floor of the living room.”
Michael smiled maliciously. “Oh, well, maybe you’re too late then. And isn’t that a shame? After you went to all that trouble, acting so available. This is, what, like a prime set-up for you, right? Guy having problems with his boyfriend, you move in, you start cooking for him, you start handing out the comfort and advice, and then you get into his pants?”
Davy flushed in anger, but Michael just went on.
“Unless, hey, maybe you like it more if they’re getting back together? More challenge that way, huh?” He looked back at Davy with disgust apparent on his face. “Geez, how many couples are you going to try to break up?”
“Michael, what the hell are you going on about?” Davy pulled him further into the living room so that their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. “You know damn well that you were more than happy for me to put out for you while you were ‘on a break’ from Gabe. I fucking did *not* mess things up for you. That relationship was messed up way before I moved in there.”
Davy lowered his voice further, and tightened his grip on Michael’s arm. “Look, what’s your problem? You’re the one who wanted to put an end to things between us. Hell, you’re the one who asked me to move out when it seemed like Gabe would give you another shot.”
“Wow, where can I get some of that delusion? ‘I was more than happy for you to . . .’ Christ, you don’t get it at all, do you? God, I was so fucked up about Gabe, you were there all the time, and you wouldn’t stop coming on to me.” Michael shook Davy’s hand off his arm.
“That’s ridiculous,” Davy said briskly. “I know for a fact that you didn’t do anything you didn’t want to do.”
A pained look flitted across Michael’s face, and he turned away. “Look, I came over here, and we talked . . . what more do you want?” He regarded the other man uneasily. “Why don’t you give me the keys back so I don’t have to change the lock?”
Davy just watched him for a moment, shrugged, and went to retrieve the keys from his room.
Buffy and Xander appeared in the hallway. “ . . . anything I can do to help?” Michael heard him ask Buffy.
“We’ve got to get everything set up, but Giles thinks that once he has the books it’ll go off without a hitch. So . . . I think that means we should worry? But seriously, it looks like its magick all the way with this one -- no slaying, no muss, no fuss. Willow says she can zap it tonight -- all you have to do is show up later to be the fourth to complete the rectangle-y energy thingy, and we’ll be done so early we can go catch the Dingoes at the Bronze for the second show.”
When she bounded into the common room, Buffy started as she realized Michael was still there. “Oh, Michael,” she exclaimed. “Hi! You’re probably wondering what we’re . . .”
Buffy trailed off when she saw the scornful look on Michael’s face. “You know what,” she said pointedly, “fuck it. Think whatever you want.” She made a motion of wiping her hands clean.
Davy appeared and silently handed Michael something in an envelope. Michael nodded sharply, and exited the apartment.
Buffy bounced a bit on the balls of her wedge-heeled sandals. Xander yawned and scratched his chest. “Well, see you later Xand,” she said, smiling at him.
Xander nodded at her hazily, and moved down the hallway towards the bathroom.
Buffy gathered up her things, waiting a moment until she heard the bathroom door close. “Oh, and Davy? Your friend seems a little . . . jerky? Maybe you should let him be jerky somewhere that’s else.”
Davy smiled easily at her. “Yeah, you noticed that too?”
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