| Xander shifted the heavy box of tools he was carrying from one hand to the other and rang Giles' doorbell. It was immediately opened by the Watcher, though "opened" could only be used loosely. The hinges had been ripped clean off of the door and the large rectangle of wood was doing no more than resting in the open hole that led to Giles' condo.
"Did you bring the hinges?" Giles asked. "Nice to see you too, Giles" "I'm sorry. Thank you, Xander, for coming by. Did you bring the hinges?" Xander held up the paper bag containing the fixtures he'd bought on the way. "Just tell me where to bang, Giles." The ex-watcher blushed and indicated the broken door. Twenty minutes later, Xander was putting screws into the second set of door hinges, as Giles looked on, clearly baffled. "How did you learn how to do that, Xander?" The dark-haired man shrugged. "My uncle Rory is actually pretty good at swingin' a hammer. He taught me a few things. It's come in handy on the Hellmouth." Xander turned to the work at hand. Giles had a feeling that the young man was speaking of more than go-carts and home repair projects. Xander worked slowly, wanting each screw and hinge to fit perfectly so that the new door would hang just right. While he worked, Giles set about tending his plants on the front porch--no use wasting a perfectly good afternoon. Then again, that's what he'd been doing for months. Just wasting his time and savings without a job or prospects for one. Which reminded him… "Xander? Aren't you supposed to be at work?" Xander winced. "Actually, I got fired from the pizza gig." "How in the world did you get sacked from *that* job? I thought you enjoyed it." "Actually, not so much with the enjoying when it came to smelling like garlic. Although the number of vamps I drew per patrol *did* significantly decrease so that's going to be a drawback." "Why did you get fired?" Giles was up to his elbows in potting soil, his eyes turned toward his gladiolas. Xander shifted uncomfortably and placed a screw between his lips for safekeeping. "Anya and I had a fight," he mumbled, lining up the spot where he would drill the next hole. "You had a fight that got you fired?" Giles asked, astonished. "I don't see how one public argument could--" "She outed me." "I'm sorry. What was that?" Xander ducked back into the doorway and the sound of the drill obscured further conversation for a few moments. When he was finished he innocently continued to work on the door but Giles would have none of it. "Xander, would you repeat what you said before you tried to distract me?" Xander heaved an enormous sigh and turned to face the out-of-work-librarian. "She. Outed. Me. She said she thought I was gay and that that must be why she wasn't having as many orgasms lately." Giles stared at him with wide eyes. "Oh, and she accused me of being incapable of emotionally committing to another human, demon, or animal. Plus she said my eyebrows were funny and that I was a worthless excuse for a breadwinner." "Go on," Giles said. "Then she called my boss a 'loud, disgusting purveyor of processed animal byproducts' and *that's* when he fired me. And three minutes later was when Anya left me. So…to review--Xander is not having a very good week. And could you maybe get me a beer because I can't believe I just told you all of that. I wasn't even planning on telling Willow or Buffy about that stuff." Xander looked miserable and it was all Giles could do not to get on his soapbox and launch into a tirade about the evils of dating demons--former or otherwise. Instead he said, "You don't think they'd understand?" "The breaking up part? Yeah. The other stuff? Not so much. Could I get that beer now?" Giles nodded briefly and then went to the kitchen for a beer. He was angry, though he wouldn't tell Xander. He knew dating Anya would only bring heartache to the boy. Few things got his ire up more than mistreatment of Buffy or her friends. Truth be told, they were some of the only friends he had and to hear that one had been hurt so badly was upsetting to him. And hurt with boldface lies, none the less! The fact that Anya could lie about someone she had once claimed so strongly to love, and to use those lies as an excuse to leave Xander, was unthinkable. How she could even *leave* a young man like Xander was beyond him as well. The boy was kind and beautiful and was slowly growing out of his awkwardness into an amazing young man. He was, in most ways, a catch. Certainly Giles had found himself imagining on more that one occasion that--no. Best not to let that thought linger too long. But Anya--how could she have made the decision that Xander was an unworthy suitor? On the other hand, Xander's relationships really were none of his business. Giles shook his head as he went into the kitchen. He really shouldn't be getting Xander an alcoholic beverage, either. He was underage. On the other hand, he'd been through a very rough day and who was he to judge his choice of refreshments? Perhaps he *was* becoming a fuddy-duddy as Buffy claimed. He removed a beer from the refrigerator and a bottle of water for himself and joined Xander outside. Xander looked to be nearly done and Giles was grateful. The door had remained permanently ajar--to say the least--ever since the Thanksgiving of Doom. Now it hung perfectly straight. In fact, it appeared to fit better than it had before the damage. "Xander, you're a wonder! It looks great." "Thanks, Giles. If you need anything else done, just let me know." As Giles handed him the beer, he hesitated. "Really? You'd be willing to do some other work around here? Because I dare say that after years on the Hellmouth and a few weeks of Spike, the place is quite in disarray." "No problem, G-Man. What do you need done?" "Well, there are still several holes in the wall where my condominium took the worst of the damage from our Thanksgiving Massacre." "Hey, I just want it to be known that I think *I* took most of the brunt of *that* experience," Xander protested as he opened his drink and downed half of it. "Regardless, if there was a way you could fix it--or you could show me…" "No way, Giles. I've seen you around power tools. Remember Halloween? You just stick to the books and leave the noisy things to the menfolk. Is Tuesday too late?" "Heavens, no. I'm not doing--Tuesday would be just fine. I think the place will be free." Xander chuckled at him. "Tuesday it is." He began to gather his tools. Now that his job was done, he looked somehow deflated and purposeless. Giles could relate. "Xander, don't take what Anya said to heart. People often say things that are untrue when passions are high." Xander smiled awkwardly. "She didn't say anything that was untrue, Giles. Well, except for the committing. And the eyebrows. Willow says they're cool, though." Xander sighed. "Things haven't been right between Anya and I in a long time, Giles. This isn't actually a surprise." He hefted his toolbox off the ground and began walking toward the car. When he was halfway there, he turned to a dumbstruck Giles. "Hey, thanks for the beer, Giles. And the talk. Maybe we could do it again on Tuesday, okay?" Giles nodded absently and went back inside. He had a feeling that he was in way over his head. ~*~ "And wearing their hair in those weird buns really *is* a rule," Xander finished as he smeared plaster over one of a dozen small holes on Giles' north wall. "Really, Xander. Corndogs? Those greasy things on a stick that they peddle at the mall?" "Greasy Foodstuffs of Love, you mean," Xander defended as he moved on to another chipped chunk of wall. "Have you given anymore thought to college?" Giles said from his perch on the couch. "Naw, Giles. I wasn't cut out for classrooms and pocket protectors. I'm like a bird…or a cheetah. I was meant to be wild and free." "Wild and free…at the Corndog-On-A-Stick?" "Hey, it's a start." Xander sighed, then pasted on a bright smile. "Will you pass me that trowel? No--the other one." Giles retrieved the correct tool and passed it to Xander. "I hope you don't think I'm being too…patriarchal, Xander. I just want to make sure that you're happy. And that this business with Anya hasn't--" "I'm fine," Xander said shortly, slapping another blob of plaster forcefully onto another flaw in the wall from a Chumash arrow. "I actually wanted to ask you about something if that's okay?" Xander was plastering intently while Giles shuffled the papers he'd been examining with nervous fingers. "Of course. You can ask me anything. You know that." "It's about…guys." "Go on." Giles was grateful that Xander could not see the embarrassment plain on his face. "When Willow came out, you said that it would be hypocritical of you to make judgments about her lifestyle. Was that because…you know? Because *you* were…because you sometimes…with the…For the love of Zeus, Giles! Please finish my sentence so I don't have to say it." "Because I was bisexual?" "Yes." Giles removed his glasses. "Yes, Xander. It was," he said finally. Xander didn't answer for several long moments. He plastered three more small holes before anyone spoke. "Is that all right with you?" Giles said a bit snappishly. "Of course!" Xander answered quickly. "I was just thinking that you know what *that* means…" "I'm sorry?" "It means I can use you!" Giles felt his cock twitch involuntarily and willed the sensation to go away. "I beg your pardon?"" "For information. Like…love lessons!" Xander got down from the ladder he'd been standing on and moved it to the opposite wall to attend to the arrow marks there. "I work with this guy who's gay and he said that he's a bottom. What does that mean?" Xander missed the look of abject horror that crossed Giles' face. "Perhaps we could start with a simpler question, Xander?" "Oh. Okay. Let me think of one." Giles couldn't sit on the couch any longer. He longed to pace…pace or flee. He hadn't yet decided. "When you're with a guy…on a date or something…how do you decide who pays?" "Well, I suppose that depends entirely on the situation, much the same way as dating a woman. Is this something you are…*preparing* for?" "No! I mean…you know. I want to be ready when the situation comes up. I don’t want to look like a rookie at the Gay Super Bowl of life, Giles." "I understand your interest, Xander. I do. But some things you're simply going to have to learn the hard way, as all of us must do." "Even you?" "Oh heavens. Especially me. When I first--" Giles stopped. "Come on, G-Man. When you first…what?" Giles scowled. "When I first spent time with a man, I was completely inept. It was bewildering and perplexing and the most supremely enlightening experience I'd ever had." "Well wouldn't you like me to have that whole 'enlightenment' thing, too? But without the bewildering and perplexing?" Giles considered it for a moment. "Well, I suppose it *would* have been nice if I'd had someone more experienced that could have taught me about things before--What am I saying? I can't have this conversation with you, Xander. It's…It's…" "Icky?" "Yes, Xander. For once, you are precisely right. I'm sorry, but it's icky." "Why? You're not my dad or even my librarian. You're…" "Nothing," Giles said, casting his eyes at the piles of salvaged books and memorabilia that had made the cut when preparing the library for detonation. He had nothing. No job. No purpose. No slayer, even. Buffy didn't really need him. Nothing. "I was going to say you're my friend," Xander said quietly from his spot atop the ladder. "I'm not wrong, am I?" Giles delicately removed his glasses. "No. Not wrong." "Then what's wrong with helping out a friend when he really needs it?" The older man was silent for a long moment before saying, "Nothing. Next question?" Xander grinned. "So, G-man. Do you have to complement a guy's eyes or his outfit or something or does the fact that neither one of you cares about that kind of stuff makes chitchat null and void? And pet names? Do I have to call a guy a 'snugglebunny'? And what about opening doors…?" ~*~ Three days later and Xander was moving on to doorknobs. "Xander, you really don't have to do that," Giles protested as the young man fitted the new knob on the bathroom door. "Oh, no offense Giles, but I kinda do. It's practically hanging off. What did you do to it?" "Actually, that would be Spike. I don't believe he was fond of returning to the bathroom the last time he was held here." "He wasn't that *fond* of my basement, either. The guy needs to expand his comfort zones." Xander tried the knob again, but he couldn’t get it lined up the way he wanted it. "So…I was thinking…" Giles braced himself for the next round of questions. "Guys don't have breasts." "No, they don't. That's very observant of you, Xander." "Hush up, Mr. Tweedy. What I mean is, do you still have to play with… you know. Nipples? When you're fooling around?" "That depends, Xander." "You ALWAYS say that! If I hear you say 'that depends, Xander' one more time I think I'm going to go postal." "But it *does* depend, Xander!" Giles stated defiantly from the toilet seat where he had positioned himself so that he could talk with the young man. "Every man is different. What about when you were with Anya? Did you like your nipples played with then?" And I can't believe this is an actual conversation I’m having, Giles mentally lamented. Xander smirked. "Actually, I--" "I don't want to hear it! I'll take that as a 'yes' and move on. If you enjoy it, then ask your partner to do it. If you do not, you can let your partner know that he need not waste his time." "Do you like it?" Xander asked, giving up on the doorknob and choosing to step back and look at the door at a distance. He turned to look at the older man who was staring intently at a bottle of bathroom cleaner. "I do. Next question." "No way, Giles. I need more information than that!" "*My* preferences are not being discussed, Xander. Next question." Xander returned to the doorknob and managed to get it aligned the way he wanted it. "Is it different kissing a guy than kissing a girl?" Giles couldn’t be sure, but Xander appeared to be blushing and, for once, it was the younger man's gaze that was shy. "You don't want to hear my answer." "Let me guess. 'It's different for each person, Xander.' Am I right?" "Quite." Xander sighed and worked diligently at the doorknob. "Yes, Xander. It's a bit different," Giles finally admitted. "Men are generally taller so the angle is a bit different. Rougher skin, rougher…handling. But still, it depends on the person." Xander nodded gratefully and Giles' body burned with pleasure at the acknowledgment. "You know, Xander. You don't have to do this. The doorknob worked…well, it wasn't as if it was a *necessary* fixture. It's just me living here." "I know, but I can do it. If I *can* do it, I *should*. Earn my Scooby Stripes or something." "If you insist," Giles said with a laugh. Xander eyed the doorknob critically. "Is it hard to give a blowjob?" Giles laughter stopped in a moment. "I’m sorry?" "You heard what I said." Xander grinned evilly. "And I won't take a patented 'everyone's different' answer, Giles. Straight up. Is it hard?" "Quite hard, at the moment," Giles wanted to say, but instead settled for, "It can be. Like anything worth doing well, it takes practice." "Practice…right…" Xander stepped back and examined his handiwork. "I have *conquered* this doorknob in the name of Giles! Never again shall you fall off and provide peepholes for wayward voyeurs!" When Giles looked at him like he was insane, Xander explained, "Personal fear of public restrooms coming out here. Don't pay any attention to me." Giles began picking up the tools and passing them to Xander to be placed in his toolbox. "So…Giles. I was thinking that your garbage disposal needs to be looked at. I heard you using it the other day and I thought it was going to try to jump out and eat us all like that Fordika demon." Xander turned so his back was to the ex-watcher. "Xander, you really don't have to--" "It's easier this way, Giles," Xander said softly. He rearranged several tools in his toolbox and then looked over his shoulder where he met the older man's eyes beseechingly. "Please…I need this…" He smiled nervously and then quickly looked away, dropping a screwdriver into the box. "Come to think of it," Giles said, removing his glasses and polishing them slowly, "my garbage disposal is not the worst of my troubles. Can you fix ceiling fans?" ~*~ "What are anal beads?" Giles dropped his book and stared and the young man with his hand down the sink. "I’m sorry?" "You heard me. Anal beads. This guy was telling me that he and his boyfriend use them and I was wondering what they were. It's not a necklace or decoration or anything. I get that. But how do they work?" Giles removed his glasses and began polishing furiously. Before Xander's string of questions had run dry, he'd have no lenses left through which to see. "Anal bead are just that. Plastic or wooden bead on a string. They're inserted into the anus and removed one by one at the moment of orgasm. I'm told it can be quite pleasurable." "Have you ever tried it?" "Heavens, no! I'm not *that* old-fashioned but I still think there are some things I don't need to experience." "But Giles, you're the one that said 'practice makes perfect' and stuff. I think maybe you should tryyyyy ittttt," Xander trilled in a sing-song voice. "Thank you. No. Next question?" The older man resumed his research at the kitchen counter, stealing quick glances at the young man bent over the sink, buried to the wrist in his kitchen drain. For a moment it stimulated all kinds of interesting fantasies. Giles squelched them with a low moan and then coughed to clear his throat. "So? No more?" He cast a hopeful glance at Xander. "I've had sex with women." "That's not a question, Xander." "I'm coming to it! I've had sex with women. Well, two. And parts are sort of…they kinda *fit*, you know?" Giles nodded toward the back of Xander's head, encouraging him to go on. "But with a guy…I mean, isn't it kinda…small?" Giles could see the blush on Xander's face creeping around the back of his neck. He grinned despite himself. "It is. That's why a lubricant of some kind is usually involved." "Lube? I've heard of that!" Xander sounded like a student delighted to get the correct answer in a crowded math class. Giles chuckled in spite of his own discomfort. "Yes, Xander. Lube. Does that answer your question?" "Yep. I guess so." He removed his hand from the drain and replaced the black rubber circle he'd removed. Xander let the water run and then flipped the switch next to the sink. The garbage disposal whirred appropriately. "You've done a wonderful job, Xander!" Giles stared in awe at the noisy hole in the sink. "You, too, Giles." Xander's mouth was oddly close to Giles' ear and the older man felt the hairs on his neck stir from Xander's warm breath. He swallowed hard and turned the garbage disposal off, then the water. "Well thank you, Xander. I appreciate your service." Xander nodded and gathered his tools. He kept his gaze cast down, examining each tool critically as he placed it in his box. "Is that fan still not working?" "I'm afraid not." "Then I'll be here tomorrow. If that's okay with you?" "Of course it's okay with me, Xander. Though I fear I should be paying you for quite a bit more than parts." "You're paying me just fine," Xander said with a devilish wink. The ex-librarian rolled his eyes. "Same time tomorrow?" ~*~ "I have a date!" "Good morning to you too, Xander. A date?" "Yeah!" Xander dropped his toolbox on Giles' dining room table and opened it up. "Who is this date with?" the older man asked, fiercely shoving a burning twinge of jealously so low that he could almost pretend it wasn't there. "His name is Eric and he comes to The Stick sometimes. Four times, actually. And this last time, he asked me out." "That's wonderful, Xander. Do you…like this man?" "Yeah. I mean, I guess. I don't really know him. I think that's the point of the date-type-thing." Xander began removing his sneakers. "What are you doing?" Giles asked, moving into the kitchen. "Well, we could move your entire table or I could just get on top of it. I chose the more convenient option that requires little effort and less sweat. Hey, is that food?" Xander's attention was momentarily diverted by the scent coming out of the kitchen. "Yes. I thought you might like something other than ground animal parts coated in cornbread. It's a quiche." "A quiche? Giles, you really *are* a gay man." Giles scowled. "Well if you don't want to try something new, then--" "Of course I want to try it, Giles. When did you get so sensitive?" Xander removed several tools from his toolbox and then stepped gingerly onto the heavy table. "I'm not sensitive. I…never mind." He retreated into the safety of the kitchen. "So…I was wondering…" So much for safety, Giles thought. He opened a bottle of water and swallowed slowly to buy himself some time, then moved to the living room adjacent to the dining room. "How do you know who does what? I mean, I figured out about top and bottom, but how do you decide who gets to do what?" Giles nearly choked trying to respond. "Well, Xander." He set the bottle of water on an end table and paced in front of his bookshelves as a means of distracting the young man from the fact that he was blushing furiously. "I suppose it just depends on the men in question." Xander turned slowly to the older man with murder in his eyes. "Not a satisfactory answer, I know, Xander. I'm just not sure how to answer that. You could simply discuss it ahead of time. Or you could go with the moment and see where it takes you. There's really no script for what we're talking about. It just takes communication, considerable respect on both person's part, and a mutual consideration of your partner's likes and dislikes." "So…practice makes perfect." "Right." "You say that a lot." Xander had the ceiling fan half removed and was looking with a creased brow at the mess of wires within. Giles gazed at him admiringly. He appeared to be so in his element that he was loathe to tell him that the fan had not worked since he'd purchased the condominium and likely never would. "Could you give me a hand, Giles? I need you to hold this while I work on the wiring." Giles shucked his own shoes and joined the young man on the large table. "Where shall I hold it?" he asked, continually awed by the efficient way Xander was handling the piece of alien equipment. "Right here." He gestured to the base of the fan. "Just hold it and I'll tell you what to do." Giles nodded and they stood in silence for several minutes. He watched as Xander checked each wire, following them to their source deep within the bowels of the ceiling. Every so often, the dark-haired man would lick his lip speculatively and then dive back into the fray. By the time the buzzer on the oven went off, Giles was hard and looking for any distraction that would keep him from thinking about a wet tongue and capable hands. "My buzzer is going off," Giles said with a slight hitch to his voice. In an effort to distract himself from hands and mouth, his sights had been set on the side of Xander's neck. Unfortunately, this strip of tanned skin was no better at dissuading the ex-watcher from lustful thought. He shifted uncomfortably until Xander took the fan from him. In the kitchen, he lifted the quiche off of the oven rack and set it on the counter. It was quite hot, he realized, and could cool until Xander had given up-- "Done!" Giles heard Xander call. "What?" The older man stumbled into the dining area in shock. "It's working?" "Yep!" Xander jumped off the table and landed in front of Giles. "Xander, that fan hasn't worked in…ever. This is amazing!" "Ah, it just took a little know-how." He looked at Giles modestly, but anyone could tell that he was beaming under the praise. "Truly, Xander. This is wonderful. Thank you." "No problem, G-man. Now can I ask a favor?" "Anything," he responded quickly, flicking the switch to the fan repeatedly. Truly amazing… "Kiss me." Giles fingers froze on the switch. "I'm sorry?" "Kiss me. You said practice makes perfect and I have a date tonight. I don't want to be a complete spaz, so…kiss me." "Xander, I'm not sure that this is a good idea." "Why? You can kiss people without it meaning anything, can't you?" Xander's eyes were flashing and Giles licked his own lips involuntarily. "Just do it. So I'll know…and be prepared." The dozen reasons why he should not kiss Xander--not the least of which was the fact that Giles doubted very much whether he *could*, in fact, kiss someone without it meaning anything--flew from his head when Xander leaned his mouth forward. Smooth lips fastened on Giles' own and quite literally took his breath away. Time stopped, his heart stopped--then skipped--and soft ripples of lust and longing spread toward his toes. Giles wrapped one hand around the back of Xander's head, weaving his fingers into too-long curls and crushing the boy forward. Xander groaned softly under his mouth and Giles' cock instantly stirred. He felt the young man's mouth part and that blessedly sweet tongue prying at his lips but he denied it entrance. Instead, he pulled the younger body flush with his own, dropping his other hand to rest comfortably on the protrusion of hipbone and denim. Only then did he allow his lips to part and only then did he snake his own tongue out to meet the slick visitor. Xander was squirming slightly, pressing against him greedily to gain more friction, but Giles abruptly stepped back and pulled his lips away. "Giles," Xander panted. He was trembling and leaning forward to try and capture the older man's lips once again. "I think we're done for today. Shall I make you some quiche for the road?" Giles turned on his heal and escaped to the kitchen, leaving a horny and bewildered Xander to wonder what he'd done wrong. ~*~ A sharp banging woke Giles from an utterly dreamless sleep. His hands scrambled across his bedside table and grasped his glasses. When he had regained his sight, he stumbled from his bed and made his way downstairs to find the source of the ear-splitting sound. "Xander?" Giles stepped out onto his front porch in only his pajama bottoms. "What are you doing here? And at--" he checked his watch, "--oh." "Yeah, G-man. Oh. It's almost ten. What did you do last night that makes 'almost ten' seem like the butt-crack of dawn?" In actuality, he'd spent most of the evening staring at page fifty-seven of the Murlier Codex and imagining finishing the kiss Xander had so brashly initiated in the dining room the previous day. It had kept his thoughts so occupied that Giles had been forced to pleasure himself under the stinging shower spray at midnight in order to get any kind of relief. "Just reading. And…you?" Giles shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, utterly uninterested (or so he told himself) in the results of Xander's big date. "Let's say I feel very…well rested." Xander turned back to the banging that had woken Giles. The watcher felt his stomach drop. Well rested. Well that answered any question he had about what had happened with Eric What's-his-name. Giles sighed. He was acutely aware that he was wearing only a sparse amount of clothing. "Well…I'm glad that it went--" "What?" Xander called from his position near the roof. "I can't hear you!" "Xander, what are you doing up there?" Giles asked instead. "You have loose storm drains. And they're pretty clogged, too. Don't worry. I'll fix them." Then the banging resumed. Giles retreated to the safety of his home and shut the door behind him. He quickly made his way back to his bedroom. So, Xander had had a good time. Very good by the sound of it. "Very well rested," he'd said. Giles raked his hands across his face and pulled them into his hair, groaning audibly. This was not the way things were supposed to happen. Xander was supposed to find a nice girl, or boy, to settle down with and he was supposed to…what? Giles touched his lips, sense memory reminding him of the kiss the day before. If he had been in his right mind, he'd have put a stop to the kiss instantly. What was he thinking? Xander wanted experience. Practice. And he'd taken advantage; he'd used him satisfy his own baser instincts and now was regretful. Oh, Rupert, he thought to himself. You are a sad, sad man. Lusting after a young man you love as a--no. A friend. That's what he called you. A friend. A friend you would love to nail through the mattress, given the opportunity. Giles removed his glasses once again and tossed them on his nightstand in frustration. Love lessons indeed. The boy could be so naïve! He stripped his pajama bottoms off and stepped into the shower, not bothering to allow it to heat up. He cleaned quickly, trying to erase all thoughts of Xander's strong hands, his warm mouth, or the way he stood, shiny with sweat, under the early afternoon sun on a ladder ten feet from Giles' own front door. When he'd finished his shower, Giles dressed quickly and set out to find Xander. He knew there would be more questions today, maybe many, and the older man wasn't sure if he would welcome the intimacy of their discussion or rue the day he'd allowed their relationship to get so personal. He found Xander fixing the storm drain on the back side of his condominium. His toolbox sat on the top step and Xander was on the next step down. He was whistling and shoving wet handfuls of dead leaves and mud from the drain. "Dead mouse!" Xander called, dropping a moist lump to the ground. Giles quickly sidestepped the lump and shaded his eyes against the early afternoon sun. "Do you need anything, Xander?" "No. I'm almost done, here. I think I'll come get some water in a minute, though." "As you wish. I'll be in the kitchen." As Giles turned to leave, he heard a clatter. "Giiiiiles!" Giles turned in time to see Xander fall from the ladder. It wasn't a long drop and would have done no more than wind him, had it not been for the toolbox that followed, plummeting to the ground and hitting the exact spot where Xander's sneaker-covered foot had landed. "Ouch! Son of a--" Xander let loose with a stream of expletives that had Giles blushing even as he was rushing to his side. "Medic! Medic!" "Are you all right, Xander? What am I saying, of course you're not. Are you *badly* hurt?" Giles stood uselessly by as Xander shoved the tools that had fallen from the box into the red chest. "I don't know, actually." Xander attempted to stand. "I think I just need to go inside and sit--fuck!" With his first tentative step, Giles could see the anguish on Xander's face. "It's my left foot. Toes, maybe. Shit!" Giles instinctively wrapped his arm around the young man and encouraged him to lean on him. When Giles had gotten Xander into the living room, he led him to the couch and retrieved a bottle of water and two Tylenol. "These are for the pain." He pushed Xander until he was laid out flat and then unlaced the grungy sneakers. "Leave it to me to wear the socks with the holes in them. My mom would be so disappointed." Xander grinned weakly. Giles pulled of the shoes and then peeled off the socks. Xander's toes were all red, but the middle toe was purple and swollen. Giles touched it tenderly. "Ouch! What the fuck are you doing to my foot?" Xander grunted again and then let his head fall back, tears pricking his eyelids. "I believe that you have a broken toe, Xander." "Great. Do we go to the E.R. now or later?" "Actually, I'm not sure there's anything they can do. Toes are rarely treated the way other appendages are. I'm afraid you'll just have to step lightly until the toe heals." "What? No cast with signatures of love, guaranteed to extort gifts and sympathies?" "It's not *that* bad, Xander. Except for the one toe, you look well." "I always look well when I'm near death." "I think you're exaggerating a bit. You just need to rest here for a while." Xander nodded, staring into the dining room at the spinning fan. "You have the fan going," he said weakly. "Yes. It's working quite well. Thank you." Unsure of what to do next, Giles sat in a chair across from the couch and watched Xander. "Hey, Giles? Do you have any more of that quiche? Or ice cream? When I'm hurt, Willow used to give me ice cream." "You don't get quiche OR ice cream unless you wash your hands first." "Yes, sir!" ~*~ An hour later, bellies full and pain receding, Giles and Xander decided that the only remedy for their day was beer. Cheap, American beer. As Giles finished his second and Xander opened his third, the heckling began. "Why in the name of all that is holy do people *watch* this television program?" "Because, Giles. Jerry Springer makes people realize that no matter what's going on in their lives, other people's lives are shittier. It's a lesson I live by." Realizing that he was one beer ahead of Giles, Xander staggered to his feet. "I am going to make the supreme sacrifice and get you a beer with my bum foot. Yes, it's going to be difficult, but I'll try. Because that's what friends do." "Thank you, Xander," Giles said wryly. "I'm all aquiver with gratitude." "No problem, G-Man." While Xander was gone, Giles continued to belittle the people on television. "For god's sake, man. She's not attracted to you! *She* is not even a *she*!" "I'm so glad that Oz got your TV working before he left, Giles. Now I can come over all the time." Xander returned to the living room and handing the beer to Giles, opening it as he passed it. "There are too many things wrong with that statement to even comment on." As Xander lifted the tab on the can, he was instantly regretful. Beer exploded in a giant geyser of foam. It drenched Giles' hair and shirt and fell in great bubbly globs onto his pants and the couch. With beer dripping from his glasses and chin, Giles turned to face Xander. The younger man stood frozen in shock, looking at the ex-librarian. He had no idea that one can of alcohol could contain so much liquid. "This has been the worst MONTH EVER!" Xander suddenly shouted. "I fear you may be right," Giles agreed with a chuckle. Xander began unbuttoning Giles' shirt. "What are you doing, Xander? "Unbuttoning your shirt?" His hands froze at the second button. "I'm quite capable of opening my own buttons, Xander." The young man stepped back as if slapped. "I, uh…right. You can do that yourself. Right." He turned his attention to the television. Giles quickly removed his shirt and glasses, using the dry parts of his shirt to blot up the excess liquid from his face, pants, and couch. When he was done, he looked at Xander, who had returned to the couch and sat stiffly with his injured foot extended. As the awkward moment spun out longer and longer, Giles mentally scrambled for something to say. Xander broke the silence first. "So…when you like a guy, how do you make the first move?" "I suppose it--" "Depends. Right." Xander laughed bitterly. "I don’t know, Xander. How did this Eric fellow make the first move?" Giles tried, he really did, to keep the sarcasm from his voice. Xander looked momentarily confused, then nodded. "You haven't told me about your date." "Right. Well, I met him at that pizza place over on Olive." With the tension momentarily relieved in favor of brutal heartbreak, Giles leaned forward in his chair, ever the picture of the devoted friend. The 'details' would be excruciating, but as much as it pained the ex-watcher to ask, at least they wouldn’t be sitting in an uncomfortable silence. "We had a really nice dinner. Eric's been out a year or two. He's a temp at City Hall--not evil, as far as I can tell--and he likes motorcycles and horseback riding." "Well, that sounds nice. Those are all things that…" "I don't exactly excel at. It's okay to say that Giles." "That's not what I was going to say. Go on." Xander shifted uncomfortably. "So then we went back to his place, and…" The slow, painful burn in Giles' stomach turned up a notch. Why did he ask Xander to share again? "And we started fooling around." Giles nodded in what he hoped was an encouraging manner. "And it was like you said, you know? About every situation being different." "And in this situation?" "In this situation…" Xander squeezed his beer until it crackled under his hand. "Good heavens, Xander. You don't have to tell me if you--" "It was horrible, Giles!" he blurted out. "What?" "Horrible! On a scale of one to ten, it was a negative pi! We had nothing in common and he had this laugh, oh my god, the laugh! It was like a hyena and *I* should know. And kissing him was…weak," he finished. "Weak?" "Weak, like…I can't explain it, Giles. It was just…less, somehow. Less than…" "Less than?" "Lessthnyrr…." Xander mumbled and then took a drink. "I'm sorry? I didn't catch that." Xander's eyes were glued to the TV where Jerry was saying his parting words. He licked his lips nervously and spoke slowly. "Less…than kissing…you. A lot less." A commercial for floor cleaner held Xander transfixed and he staunchly refused to turn his head toward the other man. "Xander, I'm sure it was just his inexperience--and yours. Perhaps if you saw him again--" "Damn it, Giles! I don’t *want* to see him again. I want to see *you*!" He slammed the half-empty can of lukewarm beer on the coffee table, splashing a few drops onto the wood. "And now I've ruined your table, too." Xander looked miserable as he used the hem of his t-shirt to mop up the stray drops. Giles struggled to find the right words to say, finally settling on, "Xander, I'm not sure *you're* clear about what you want. I can see how the kiss we shared has influenced--what? What are you looking at?" Xander was staring at him with a pained, kicked puppy face. "It *wasn't* the kiss, Giles. That was--It wasn't the kiss. It's *you* and it's *always* been you and it's stupid, I know. I'm just a kid and you want someone who's all experienced and who already knows about this stuff. But last night was the *worst* date of my life and I’m including the time my Uncle Rory fixed me up with that tuba player from West Sunnydale. Way worse. Because all I could think about was you and your mouth and your arms--god, you don't know how amazing your arms are--and fucking you and I know it's stupid but I think I’m going crazy because I’m never going to want anyone like I want you and--" "Very well rested." "Huh?" "Very. Well. Rested." Giles, who'd been silent through most of Xander's tirade, now stood up in loose jeans and nothing else. "I remember *vividly* what you said. Very. Well. Rested. Explain." The watcher as barely breathing, waiting for Xander's answer. "I *am* well rested. I was in bed, alone, by nine thirty." Xander swallowed hard when he realized Giles was standing in front of him. "Turn off the television, Xander." Xander complied, dropping the remote next to his beer. "Let me make one thing perfectly clear. You are not a 'kid' as you so eloquently put it. You stopped being a kid a long time ago." "Giles, I--" "I'm not done. You've come to mean many things to me, Xander. You're not a child, but if there's one thing I've tried to teach you these last few weeks, it is that you must be open and communicative with your partners. Or future partners. Affections cannot breed in an atmosphere of confusion and distrust." "In English?" Giles shook his head. "Why didn't you tell me before?" he said simply. "Oh. I don't know. Too shy. Too nervous. Did you say 'future partners'?" "I did." Xander looked stunned and Giles gave a pleased grin. Then he kissed him softly, no more than a brush of skin against skin. When they parted, Giles quietly asked, "Do you think you can use the stairs in your 'condition'?" Xander nodded without speaking and then stood nervously. He made it as far as the stairs but when he tried stepping on the first step, he let out a painful grunt and winced. A strong arm wrapped around his waist to help him step and he made it slowly up the staircase. Giles led the young man to his bedroom where Xander stopped at the doorway, clearly nervous. Giles slipped his hand around Xander's waist and buried his mouth in the base of Xander's neck. He kissed the smooth skin and licked it lightly, delighting in the salty taste of sweat and soap. Xander let his head roll forward and wrapped his own arm across Giles'. "Different for every person, huh?" "What?" Giles whispered, sucking on a delicate earlobe from behind. Xander sighed and swallowed before he continued. "You said it's different for every person. So how is it for *us*?" His body was trembling and Giles was suddenly concerned that he'd made a very big mistake. "Xander, if this is not what you want, you must tell me. I admit that sometimes I can be rather *forward* and I'd hate for you--" "Giles. Believe me. You're not too forward. You're so *un-forward* that you're *backward*." Xander stepped further into the room, pulling his lover with him. "I just mean…what do you like?" He stepped into the circle of Giles' nervous arms and laid his head on his shoulder. "I've heard a lot about what you *know* but not what you *like*. Oh! But I do remember one thing…" Suddenly inspired, Xander slid a hand behind Giles' neck and then let his mouth trail lower until it clamped onto one bare nipple. He suckled the hard nub, tickling it with his tongue until he heard Giles gasp. Then he traded one nipple for the other and bit down on the tender flesh. Giles growled and Xander suddenly felt hands working frantically at his shirt, yanking at the thin fabric and pulling it forcefully off of his body. Then his mouth was covered, consumed, plundered by Giles' mouth until the older man pulled away, gasping for breath. Xander gave a stunned grin. "I guess you liked that. Your nipples. Nipples are cool. They're…" His babble ran dry and Giles used the opportunity to leave a tender kiss on swollen lips. "I told you that I did." He began pulling at Xander's jeans, unbuttoning them slowly and looking for signs of anxiety. Xander showed none, only nuzzled into the soft skin of Giles' neck and let his knuckles trail over the wet nubs of the older man's sensitized nipples. His jeans dropped to the ground and Giles watched as Xander stepped out of them, wincing when the fabric caught on his bad toe. He kicked the offending pants to the side and resumed administering to the side of Giles' throat. "Giles?" "Uh-huh?" "What else do you like?" "What do *you* like?" "I don't know, yet," Xander grinned. "Teach me." Giles was already hard, but at Xander's command, he felt his weeping cock tremble. "Lay down, Xander," he commanded, stepping back from the young man. Xander complied, sliding onto the neatly made bed and laying his head on the crisp pillows. "Today's lesson will be deciding what you like. As I said, it's important that both partners maintain open communication to ensure maximum pleasure--" Giles stopped when he saw Xander rubbing at his own cock which was straining at the thin, worn fabric of his boxers. Giles watched silently as Xander ran his hand over the bulge, the small wet spot on the fabric growing larger as precum leaked from the tip. The young man's eyes dilated as they met Giles' and he slid his hand under the waistband to grab his own cock. "Mental note," Giles murmured quietly. "Xander enjoys exhibitionism." He began working at his own jeans, popping the button and sliding the zipper down. "I think you should know, Xander, that I do, too." Xander stopped his demonstration and watched as Giles slid his jeans from his body and let his boxers go as well. He stood naked before Xander and the young man licked his lips hungrily. "Now, Xander. We were deciding on what things you liked." He slid one hand under the waistband of Xander's boxers, wrapping his hand around Xander's. "Hum…yes, I can see why you like this. But let me see if I can't…" Giles stroked the stiff length one, two, three times as Xander's hand fell away and his eyes closed. "Oh my goddess! Giles…" "Yes…you *do* seem to like that. Good to know. Next…" He removed his hand and Xander's eyes flew open with disappointment. Giles grasped the elastic of Xander's boxers and slid the fabric off quickly, leaving the young man completely naked with an engorged cock standing upright. He crawled onto the bed, straddling Xander's body. Then he leaned low to cover Xander's mouth with a kiss. "Oh, Xander," Giles sighed, briefly tucking his face next to Xander's neck. "Your mouth tastes superb. Truly delicious." Xander giggled at the words, Giles breath tickling his ear. The ex-watcher dragged his lips down Xander's neck, over his collarbone, and fastened his teeth over a nipple, biting hard. Xander cried out in pain, even as he was weaving his hands into Giles hair and pulling his mouth more firmly to his chest. "I see you like attention paid to your nipples as well," Giles observed, nipping at the second one. Xander just nodded his head in the affirmative and Giles' heart soared. To have the boy--man, he corrected himself--in his bed, to have his skin under his hands and his soft cries in his ear, was more than Giles had ever dared imagine. When Xander had confessed his attraction, he'd been sure it wasn't true--couldn’t be true--but Xander was here now, panting under his mouth, pulling on his hair and asking, begging, for whatever Giles could teach him. "Please," was all the dark-haired man said, but he nudged gently at Giles' head and the ex-librarian smiled. He moved down Xander's body, nuzzling his belly and breathing deeply when his questing lips met dark curls. "Are you certain, Xander?" Xander nodded frantically, his cock weeping only inches from Giles' face Xander arched involuntarily, obviously aroused and desperately close to a long-overdue release. Giles grinned at his enthusiasm, then gently took the tip of his erection into this mouth, swirling his tongue over the head. "You taste even more delicious right here," he said, taking his mouth from Xander's cock long enough to speak. "Giles…oh my goddess…" Xander was lifting his hips gently, over and over, unconsciously fucking Giles' mouth. The older man was amazed. Amazed and thrilled and impossibly aroused by the young man he'd come to treasure over the last few years. He was so beautiful and responsive. Xander. His Xander. The object of so much unattainable lust. Yet here he was, in the flesh as it were. "Gonna come, Giles..." The watcher redoubled his efforts, sucking hungrily at Xander's cock and letting his hand gently massage Xander's balls "Giles! I don't wanna--I mean, I'm--" Xander came with a cry, spilling warm fluid into Giles' hungry mouth. Xander lay panting and exhausted, not saying a word. Giles wiped his mouth carefully and joined him, lying on his side and sliding his arm over Xander's chest. The young man was quiet and Giles became concerned. "Xander? Are you all right?" Xander didn't respond. The watcher's heart sank. He had pushed him. It was obviously too much. Far too much and far too soon. Xander, his beautiful Xander, wasn’t moving or speaking and his heart plummeted further. "I'm sorry." "I'm sorry." They spoke simultaneously. "What?" "Huh?" They spoke again. Giles smiled patiently and nodded for him to continue. "I’m sorry, Giles. I didn't mean to…you know. So soon. I wanted to--to last longer for you. For us. You must think I’m really lame." Xander blushed. "Are you joking with me, Xander?" Xander blushed further, staring at the ceiling. "I just wanted this for so long, Giles. I wanted it to be longer. I wanted it to be better for you. I wanted…" "Xander, stop babbling." The string of apologies quickly stopped. "Xander, look at me." He pulled the young man's chin to him. Soft brown eyes met his own and he smiled gently at him. "Better for me? Look at me." "I *am* looking at you." "No, look at all of me." Giles watched Xander's eyes sweep his frame, finally resting on Giles' cock. It was hard and red and drooling slightly against Xander's hip. "Better for me? My god, Xander…" Giles swallowed hard, resisting the urge to grind himself against the young man's body. "Have you any idea how you make me feel? How much I want you--want *this*?" Xander's eyes remained on the watcher's hard length, realizing for the first time perhaps what Giles was saying. "Months. Years, maybe. I’m not certain--and don't make me calculate for certain or I'll truly feel like a lecherous old fool. Oh, Xander, everything you are, everything you *do* makes things better for me. I only hope that I can do the same for *you*. I'd make you come a hundred more times if it showed you how much I treasure you. And for the record, you've the stamina of a Viking, all things considered." Xander gave Giles a dopey grin and the ex-watcher's dick twitched. "Tell me what you want, Xander. What you wanted." Xander bit his lip and Giles resisted the urge to dive forward and claim the lip himself. "I wanted to make love to you, Giles. Or *with* you? To you." Xander cringed in confusion, knowing he sounded like a cheap teen movie, but Giles had asked a question and he agreed to always tell Giles the truth. He just wasn't sure of the right way to say it. "I used to fantasize about this at Scooby meetings. And let me tell you, I have a good imagination. George Lucas has nothing on me." "Of that I have no doubt." Xander blushed again. "It's just…in my fantasies, I was always really smooth, you know? I always--I always made you come. Over and over and then *I*…I just…I let you down," he finished with a mortified sigh. "Spoon me, darling," Giles said suddenly. "Huh?" Xander looked confused, though Giles wasn't sure if it was because of what he was asking him to do, or because he'd called him "darling." "Turn your back to me." Xander complied and Giles lay back, stretching his hand toward his bedside table. He returned with a small bottle of lube and a condom. Then he turned onto his hip again. He began kissing the back of Xander's neck and slipped one arm over his body to stroke at Xander's chest. "Xander?" he asked quietly. "Yes?" the young man answered with hitched breaths. "You *are* smooth." He let the hand on Xander's chest move over his arm and hip. "So smooth. Smooth and hard in all the right places." Then he allowed his palm to trail over the round curve of Xander's ass. Giles scooted even closer, until he knew Xander could feel his erection leaking onto his back. The older man pressed his lips to the curve of Xander's ear and whispered quietly. "I’m going to make love to you now, Xander. Would you like that?" Giles felt the younger man shudder in response and nod. He removed his hand and opened the bottle, slicking his fingers. He pressed one finger to Xander's entrance, delighting at the low moan that escaped the young man's lips. He began moving the digits in and out of Xander's body, searching for the spot he knew would make it even better for his young lover. He added a second finger and scissored them slowly, stroking at the shaggy curls of Xander's hair with his other hand and panting into his ear. "I want this to be good for you, Xander. So good and so sweet, just like you. Would you like that? Would you like me to be inside you?" He felt Xander nod and then a strained, "Yes." "Would you like me to come inside you, darling?" Frantic nodding this time and heavy pants. Giles sped up his motions, then removed his fingers. He rolled the condom on quickly and slicked himself, desperately hoping that Xander wouldn't be disappointed in his "teacher." He moved close to Xander and tucked the young man's top leg against his chest, baring his puckered hole. Giles aligned his cock and pressed forward. He felt Xander shudder again, and then he moved forward slowly, listening carefully for any signs of distress. "Xander? Is this okay? Please tell me if--" Xander began squirming next to him, rocking his back toward him. "Giles…Giles…" "Tell me if it's not all right, Xander. Please, I need to make sure--" "So good!" Xander cried out, trying hard to thrust toward his watcher. Giles moved his hand to Xander's hip. "Slow down, Xander. We've all day. And night, if you like. And day. And night. And…" Giles laughed softly against Xander's back and felt the younger man relax minutely. He set up a lazy pace, trying hard to reach Xander's prostate at each stroke. Xander took his free hand and pulled it over him, suckling the fingers. Soon, Giles' body was screaming for release. He'd been waiting far too long, years in fact, for this moment. He sped up his pace and turned Xander gently until he was lying on his stomach. The young man instinctively raised himself and Giles followed suit, grasping at his bare hips while trying hard to avoid getting anywhere near Xander's injured toe. He began to pump furiously, delighting in the animal groans of pleasure coming from Xander. When he could hold out no longer, he pinched hard at Xander's hips, coming with a deep growl. He felt Xander continue to thrust back on his softening shaft and realized for the first time that Xander was once again hard and stroking himself. The watcher sagged against the young man's back and slipped a hand under his body to knead at Xander's balls. Xander gasped in surprise and came a second time, then let them both fall forward, spent. "Told you, pet. Viking." Giles purred and Xander shivered at the intense, almost Ripper-like voice Giles used. Xander scrambled to cover Giles with his body, curling and grinding against the older man's body like a cat. "You're not so un-Viking-like yourself." Giles raked his fingers through the young man's hair and kissed him gently. "Was that all right, Xander?" "And then some." "Would you like to do it again?" "Right now?" Giles chuckled. "No, not right now. I don't think I could tie my shoes right now." Xander giggled with him. "But later?" "More love lessons?" Xander teased, pinching playfully at Giles nipples. "Many, many more lessons, Xander." Xander was quiet for a moment. "You know," he said at last, "I don't think your back door hangs right." "My what?" Xander gave a lecherous grin. "Not *that* back door. And your TV reception is for shit, no offense. I could install a second phone line in your office or--" "No." "No?" "You don't owe me anything, Xander. Except your honesty. And perhaps your heart, when you feel ready." Xander sighed contentedly, searching his lover's eyes. "Giles? I've been ready to give you that for a long time." ~*~The End~*~ |
| Love Lessons |
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