title: The Guy Thing 4: Morning After.
Author: otsoko (otsoko@hotmail.com)
Summary: Xander wakes up somewhere not his own bed
Rating:PG-13
Content: almost-Slash Xander/Riley
Category: The Guy Thing #4
Spoilers: Season 5
Distribution: list archives, otherwise, just ask.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Disclaimer: Joss owns them. just playing. Promise
ACK. The beloved beta, Emmy, who puts up with my language madness.
 

The Guy Thing 4: Morning After.

Xander awoke with the biggest headache of his life. He opened his eyes.
WHOA! Big mistake. He tried to raise his arm to look at his watch but his
arm wouldn't move. Oh, shit. Was paralysis one of the side-effects of
drinking Greek brandy? He took in a deep breath and tried to clear his
head, but only succeeded in making himself wince in serious pain.

He opened his eyes again, this time more slowly. He saw the time on the
alarm clock face. OK, he still had an hour before he had to go to work. He
moaned and tried to move again. Funny, he could move his legs, but not his
arms. Xander wasn't sure, but he thought paralysis started in the legs and
worked up. Something else clicked in his head. His alarm clock used to be
digital, when did it suddenly acquire a clock face?

He opened his eyes again and looked at the wall. Not his wall.

Not his room.

And so, logically, not his bed. Not Anya's either. No chintz. Just a
stark, cheaply furnished bedsitter. He looked down and saw the arm around
him, pinning his arms to his sides. He was suddenly aware that that arm
belonged to whomever was pressing himself against his back.

OK. This was new. He had heard about guys getting wasted and waking up in
someone's bed without a clear recollection of what had happened the night
before. OK, last night. Greek bar. Greek brandy, Metaxa. Yasu. More
Metaxa. With Riley. Riley, who now had his arm around him, and was
snoring lightly as he pressed himself against Xander.

OK. Riley. Riley's bed. Xander looked down. OK. Still dressed. That's
probably a good sign. He was pretty sure he remembered leaving the bar with
Riley and walking back, arm over shoulder, feeling very drunk, and close to
Riley ...

OK. Very close to Riley in a drunken bud kind of way. Not in a wake up in
Riley's bed with Riley's arm around him kind of way.

Gingerly, Xander lifted Riley's arm from around his chest, and slid out of
the bed. Riley gave a groan and rolled over onto his stomach. Xander
slowly stood up. The pain to the part of his brain right behind his eyes
was excruciating. He stumbled around the bed and into the bathroom. He had
to rest his head against the tiled wall as he unzipped and took a leak. The
sound of piss hitting water was really loud. He closed his eyes.

Finished, he zipped up, and automatically flushed, and immediately regretted
it. Damn, that was loud. He opened the medicine cabinet. Riley had
Alka-Seltzer, aspirin, Tylenol, and two kinds of over-the-counter hangover
relief medicines. Unable to make a rational choice, Xander grabbed one of
the hangover relief ones, and carried the packet over to the sink. The one
glass there looked fairly skuzzy, but any port in a storm. He rinsed it
out, more as a gesture than in a real attempt to clean it, and emptied the
powder into it and half-filled the glass with water from the tap. He
stirred it with a finger. He stared at it for a second, and then downed it,
almost gagging on the slightly acidic taste. He put the glass down, and put
both hands on the edges of the sink and sighed deeply.

He looked up and saw his face in the mirror. Not the best Xander-face he'd
ever seen. More like a been run over by a streetcar and kicked around by
demons sort of face. Xander turned the tap back on and splashed cold water
on his face, then grabbed the not very clean towel and dried off. He was
suddenly aware that the towel smelled like Riley.

He was also struck that he found it completely natural that he knew what
Riley smelled like.

He walked back out to the one room of Riley's apartment. He saw the Mr.
Coffee machine. He wasn't sure his stomach could handle coffee, but he was
positive that his head needed it. He opened the cabinets as quietly as he
could, partly so as not to wake Riley, but mainly to protect his pounding
head. He found the filters and the can of Folgers. He grinned at that.
Riley was a farm boy: no Kona dark roasted beans waiting to be ground
before making the coffee. All-American coffee straight out of the
All-American can. Xander emptied the coffee pot of day-old coffee, rinsed
it perfunctorily under the tap and went about setting the machine in motion.

He switched it on and started looking for a cup. Two mugs, both dirty.
Xander actually washed one of them and set it soaking wet on the counter.
Against any real hope, he opened the fridge and found a gallon jug of milk.
He grinned. Riley was fulfilling all of his Iowa farm boy stereotypes.
Nonetheless, he opened the jug and sniffed it and then took a bit of a swig
to make sure it hadn't gone bad. It tasted funny ... or rather his tongue
felt funny as he tasted it.

He poured some milk into the mug, and left the jug on the counter. There
was a good cup of coffee already in the pot. Unwilling to wait for
caffeine, Xander pulled the pot out, and filled the mug, and put the pot
back under the drip before too much dripped onto the warming element. The
wasted drops of water sizzled between glass pot and heat.

Xander raised the cup to his lips and took a long drink.

"My dad would kill ya if he saw ya doing that."

Xander spun around and saw Riley lying on his side smiling at him.

"Uh, good morning."

"He hated it when someone took the first strong part of the pot."

"Uh, sorry." Xander looked at the offending mug he was holding.

Riley put legs over the side of the bed and sat up. He briefly put his head
in his hands before standing up.

He walked over to the sink, grabbed the other mug, and shook the water out
of it, and poured himself a mug of coffee. The machine sizzled loudly
again.

"I'm not my dad." He grinned as he put the pot back under the drip. Xander
smiled, then grimaced as his head reacted to too many muscles moving at
once.

"I remember leaving the bar and walking ..."

Riley nodded. "Yeah, we made it back here, and you pretty much just
crashed."

"Sorry."

"Not a problem. Better that than you trying to walk home by yourself in the
state you were in."

Xander looked at his watch. "Oh shit! I'm gonna be late!"

Riley smiled at him. "Xander?"

"Yeah?"

"It's Saturday."

"You sure?"

"Uh, yeah." Riley's face turned into almost a smirk.

"OK, OK." Xander took the mug and went over to the couch and sat heavily.
It hadn't escaped his notice that although he woke up in trousers and shirt,
Riley was pretty much just in his boxers.

He took another sip of coffee. "Uh, Riley?"

"Yeah?" Riley said as he walked over and sat in the one chair, across from
Xander.

"Did we ...? Never mind."

"We got very drunk, came back here, talked a bit, and you crashed hard.
End of story."

Xander nodded, looking down. Grateful that he hadn't had to actually ask
the question. Embarassed that he felt like he needed to ask it. He would
wait until later to think about why Riley had no trouble answering it, and
smiling ...

"You don't remember, do ya?"

Xander shook his head, more than a little embarrassed.

Riley sighed deeply.

Xander searched Riley's face. "What?"

"Nothing, just drunken talk."

Xander smiled a little. "I remember each of us telling the other what great
guys were are."

Riley nodded.

"And we trashed Angel, a lot."

Riley nodded again. "Yeah, your words were 'Deadboy is pretty much the
bloodsucking fiend from hell, and that's on his good days'. And something
about Cordy and Angel deserving each other."

Xander blushed. "I didn't mean that... no one deserves Angel... or Cordy
for that matter."

Riley grinned at him slyly as he took another swig of coffee. "Does Anya
really keep a running tally of her orgasms?"

"Shit, I told you that?"

"You were very drunk."

Xander nodded. "Yeah, I must have been, ... and yeah, she really does."

"It's kind of sweet, in a really perverse way. Not to mention kind of
impressive."

Xander nodded at the compliment, but his tone of voice was a bit subdued,
"Yeah, that's me, orgasm-boy."

Xander noticed that Riley was looking at him, really looking at him. Riley
caught himself. "Lemme buy you breakfast."

"I don't think I could eat, Ri."

"I promise you'll feel worse if you don't."

"OK. Just one thing, though."

"Name it, Xand."

"No Greek food."

"You got it." Riley laughed.

Xander winced. "Hey! Laugh quieter!"