| Title: Supernova
Author's Name: Scarlet Author's Email and URL: scarletsfiction@yahoo www.oocities.org/scarletsfiction Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and UPN own Buffy the Vampire Slayer in totality. Joss Whedon and the WB own Angel: the Series. No profit is made from this piece of fiction and no copyright infringement is intended. Distribution: Sprinkle like dust on the wind; just let me know where it lands so I can visit from time to time. Rating: NC-17 Pairing: Jesse/Xander Dedication: Many, many thanks to Kaz and her super beta skills. Summary: Sleepover at Jesse’s! Bring your sleeping bag and your unrequited love… ________________________________________________________________ “Jesse?” “Yeah?” “Are you awake?” “What do you think?” “Oh, right.” “Go to sleep, Xander.” “But I’m not tired.” “Big surprise. I bet you ate ten Twinkies before my mom made s’mores. Why aren’t you puking?” “I have an amazing tolerance for processed sugar products. It’s a gift.” Jesse stretches his long legs out; his feet emerge from the bottom of the twin bed. He curls up tightly when his mother knocks on the door, not wanting the price of a new bed to burden her further. He’ll be sixteen in three weeks and then he can get a job, and a car, and real money to buy a bed. Well, he probably won’t spend his hard-earned money on a bed—he has better things in mind—but the idea is there. “Don’t stay up too late. Xander, sweetie? Are you okay?” “Yes, ma’am.” That’s all ever calls her. Ma’am. Makes a kid wonder what he calls his own mother, but Jesse’s never met Xander’s mom and somehow doubts he ever will. “Lights out after midnight, okay?” Jesse nods, then rolls his eyes to assure Xander that “lights out” doesn’t *really* mean “lights out” as far as he’s concerned. The door clicks shut but there’s a beam of bright hallway light that peeks out from under his bedroom door. It’s comforting, glowing on his toes as his feet reemerge. He stares at the ceiling for a while, listening to Xander breathe. The even staccato is comfortable and familiar, like the hall light. How many times have they been here? Xander in his old Star Wars sleeping bag, Jesse twisted into his old twin mattress, the racecar frame long since retired to his cousin. “Jesse?” “Yeah?” “Would you rather be Wolverine or Cyclops if you had the choice?” “Cyclops.” “Serious? But then you could accidentally fry someone if you lost your visor.” “I dunno, man. The claws would freak me out.” “But Wolverine can pass for human as long as he keeps his claws retracted. Cyclops only has a flimsy little pair of Ran-Bans separating him from being revealed to everyone.” “Oh, true.” Xander is silent for a while; Jesse wiggles his toes. “It’s like Cyclops is only one small step from being revealed at any moment,” Xander says suddenly. “I guess.” “I wonder how he deals…you know, if he were real.” Jesse leans his body over the edge of the bed, making a bridge until his hands touch the carpet near Xander’s head. “I guess it helps that he has good friends. Friends like him. That’s Wolverines problem, man. He’s too much of a loner.” “Maybe you’re right.” Xander smiles up at him. His face is shiny in the moonlight; his teeth and the white of his eyes sparkle. Then Jesse feels a little sick, like he’s the one who ate those Twinkies. “You don’t have to stay on the floor, you know. “ “I told you, I turn over in my sleep. I’ll kick you. Besides, I like the R2-D2 bag. It’s served me well.” Xander strokes the ratty sleeping bag affectionately. “You hardly fit in it.” “You should talk.” Xander gestures to Jesse’s bare toes at the end of the bed. “The blankets are the right size,” Jesse pouts. He flops back on the bed, almost irrationally annoyed. Xander will complain about his ass hurting the next day from sleeping on the floor, but he won’t – “Okay.” Xander’s quiet and Jesse isn’t sure he’s heard him until Xander’s right there, standing next to his bed, in just his boxers and a white t-shirt. Jesse scoots quickly and Xander climbs in. Now both sets of toes poke out the end. Jesse could adjust the blankets but somehow it’s more fun with twenty little piggies keeping watch. “You ever name your toes?” “No.” “Right. Me either.” He waits for Xander’s breath to slow to the rhythmic sound that’s comforted him since, well, forever. “You ever had Spam?” “A Spamwich? Once.” “Was it good?” “I dunno. We were camping. Anything’s good when you’re camping.” “True.” “Good night Xander.” “’night…” Jesse waits again, unable to sleep until he knows Xander’s asleep, until he can hear the sound of soft snores. He listens closely and can almost hear the hall clock ticking and the sound of a truck backfiring somewhere nearby. He can’t hear Xander, which is strange since he’s right next to him, thigh pressed to his, toes innocently erect. Jesse turns his head to listen closer and can finally detect faint breathing from his best friend. It’s shallow and unsteady. Xander’s face is staring at the ceiling, eyes open. “You’re not sleeping, man!” Jesse punches Xander affectionately in the arm, which is no easy task, as close as they are within the bed. “Quit it, Jess—“ “As long as you’re awake anyway…Body Slam!” Jesse rolls to his side and throws one arm around Xander’s neck then drags his leg over Xander like he’d done a million times before. Except the other 999,999 times he’s done it, there hasn’t been something hard and warm under his knee and Xander has never groaned into his ear quite the way— “Get off me, Jesse!” Jesse freezes, leg pressed into a boner hard enough to cut glass. “W-why….” He can’t quite think things out with a woody touching him. It should be sorta gross—another guy with wood touching him—but it’s *Xander* and nothing can be bad or wrong when Xander is there. “You got a chubby,” he notes wisely. “Yeah.” “Working on a hot and horny Cordelia Chase fantasy, huh?” “Yeah, something like that.” Xander seems relieved. Jesse realizes he’s still clutching Xander’s neck and tries to slide it out from under him. His leg is still sprawled across Xander and it doesn’t seem like the erection is going anywhere soon. Xander’s panting at the ceiling, probably embarrassed, Jesse thinks. As he slides his leg off, the panting speeds up. It’s funny that he’d been waiting so long to hear Xander breathe, and now he can’t *not* hear him, he’s breathing so loud. Feeling wickedly cruel, he shoves his leg back across Xander who cries out just a little bit. Then Jesse slides it backs off. It’s kind of like playing a violin, he thinks, and it makes him smile. “Do that again.” Xander won’t look at him, but his mouth is open and his lips are shaking. Jesse’s heart thunders as he slides a long leg back over Xander’s groin and watches Xander’s head tilt back into the pillow. He quickly retreats to his side of the small bed. Now *he’s* the one panting, which doesn’t really make sense. Nor does it make sense that, as he now stares at the ceiling, Jesse realizes he’s more than hard himself. It’s a noticeable bulge in the pale green blanket and he tries to tuck his hips down so Xander can’t see. Jesse clenches his teeth and stares at the spinning ceiling fan, willing himself into a non-horny place. But practically every memory, everything that’s ever happened to him in his life, has been with Xander or somehow leads to Xander. The time he and Xander took firecrackers to Turner Field and accidentally set the old elm on fire. Borrowing money from Willow to ride the tilt-a-whirl and then both of them puking on her flip-flops. Xander and him swimming in the reservoir when neither of them could raise the funds to get into the public pool. Xander swimming from bank to bank faster than anyone Jesse’s ever known— A hand slides over his hip. Jesse’s train of thought derails. Shaking fingers slide under his BVDs and touch his dick. It makes him twitch in Xander’s hand and somehow he knows that will make Xander smile. The thought of Xander smiling, of making him feel good, is suddenly powerful. Without another thought, Jesse’s hand shoots out and lays on the wet bulge in the front of Xander’s boxers. He eagerly shoves his hand under the waistband, then realizes he’s holding onto other guy’s cock and it should maybe, probably, be weird but it isn’t because it’s Xander. Xander. “Xander.” “Yeah?” “Hold it in your fist,” he whispers, and Xander complies. Red sparks behind his eyelids teach him how much better this is when it isn’t your own hand doing it. They move together, hands getting slick and wet, sloppy sounds smothered under a pile of blankets. Jesse turns his head slightly, watching Xander jerk him off while he does the same. Warm emotion (maybe it’s love, he thinks with awe) makes his eyes damp but he’s no pussy. He swallows it back. Then Xander’s head turns and it should be so fucking weird but it just isn’t. It’s Xander. “Xander?” “Yeah?” Kiss me. Love me. Do this again and again. Stay over every night and never go home to that asshole you call a dad. Promise we’ll always be friends. He says nothing, but Xander smiles tiredly anyway and kisses him. He’s kissed two girls before but this is…different. Xander. It feels good. Right. Strange. He wants more and he’s *getting* more, but… He pushes his body closer, but there’s not much room. Xander shoves him and Jesse rolls to his back. Then Xander’s on top of him, kissing his mouth all hot and sloppy. Xander struggles to shove down his boxers. Jesse shyly wants to leave his underwear on but Xander’s hands pull at them and he’ll give Xander anything he wants because it’s his best friend. His best friend. “We’re naked,” Jesse wisely gasps. “Good observation.” Jesse laughs but the sound is swallowed up in Xander’s mouth which covers his own, hesitantly touching the tip of his tongue to Jesse’s lips and looking surprised when Jesse’s lips part and open wide. Jesse’s long limbs wrap around Xander’s waist like they’ve done in any one of a zillion piggy-back rides, except it’s Xander’s front and not his back, which doesn’t really sound that bad either. They rock and slide and grunt. It’s hot and messy and not particularly skilled, but Jesse’s thinking this is the best damn thing he and Xander have done in a long time. Xander suddenly cries out and then Jesse’s stomach is slick and wet. Xander’s hand descends, running through the creamy puddle and wrapping around Jesse’s cock a second time. He jerks him hard, tonguing his mouth more and more boldly until Jesse has to--*has to*--wonder how long Xander’s been thinking about this. Really thinking about it. Then Jesse can’t think of much of anything because the red sparks behind his lids are now blinding supernovas, wringing him dry, hot and empty. “Damn! You shot more than me!” One eye peeks open and Jesse can see Xander over him, using his t-shirt to wipe his stomach off. He can hardly move and wonders how Xander can be so spry. Then Xander slumps heavily over him and tucks his head against Jesse’s hair. Xander’s sweaty and Jesse’s sweaty and their bodies are sticking together. Jesse’s hand touches Xander’s wet hair but Xander rolls off of him the moment he makes contact. “Wow. Kinda…weird, huh?” A quick peek tells Jesse that Xander is having his own private meltdown. “Yeah.” He feels…blissed out. Good. “Weird.” “I mean, it’s you. And me. And sweaty and groiny.” “Uh-huh.” “And if Willow found out…” “She doesn’t have to. Not now, anyway.” “And if my dad found—“ “He won’t.” “It’s just, I was laying here and thinking about how good you smelled, so—“ “It’s *sweat*, Xander. B.O.” A quick glance tells Jesse that Xander understands he’s just kidding. Xander smiles as Jesse leans over. Before he can lose his nerve Jesse kisses him softly, then rolls back. Their toes stick out of the end of the bed. “So…do you think that if Mulder and Scully were able to find the Smoking Man’s lair—“ “Xander?” “Yeah?” “Go to sleep.” Jesse stares at the strip of light beaming under the door. Yep, still comforting. He watches it for a while, then hears the gentle in and out sound that tells him Xander’s asleep. The End |
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Supernova |