Xander awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon frying and the sound of quiet jazz coming from somewhere in the apartment. Stretching his aching muscles, he winced slightly when he felt the pull of his skin over his still sensitive bruises. His eyelids fluttered open and for a split second he forgot where he was. Then it all came back to him. Him coming home late, his father's beating him, him coming to Giles and revealing his less than fantastic home life. And, of course, the kiss. As short as the kiss was, it was the biggest comfort he'd had in a long time.
Sighing at the memory, he sat up. His movement was a little too quick and he hissed at the pain that shot through his ribs. Hearing Xander's cry of pain over the sound of the sizzling bacon, Giles rushed from the kitchen and to the boys side. "Take it easy now, Xander. Those bruises are going to take a while to heal," he said, resting a hand on the boy's shoulder.
"I'll take that into consideration," Xander said and swung his legs off of the couch. As he moved to stand up, he almost laughed when Giles put an arm around his waist to help him. "Giles, do you think it would be all right if I went to the bathroom by myself? I mean, if I fall over or something I'll be sure to yell for help."
Giles quickly backed away from him. "O...of course, by all means," he stuttered out and hurried back into the kitchen to hide his embarrassment.
After using the facilities and washing his face, Xander wandered out of the downstairs bathroom and into the dinette to find a plate full of food waiting for him. Scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast with a tall glass of orange juice and a mug of black coffee. "Gee, Giles," Xander said as he sat down. "I never knew you were this domesticated. Will ya marry me?"
"Well," Giles said, removing the teabag from his cup. "When you've lived alone as long as I have, you tend to learn how to take care of yourself." Xander grunted in agreement around the mouthful of scrambled eggs. A small smile touched the corners of Giles' lips as he watched Xander shove ketchup-drenched hash browns into his mouth like a ravenous dog.
"I'd venture to guess that you don't get many home-cooked meals," Giles said with amusement.
"Are you kidding me?" Xander asked after downing half his glass of orange juice. "I don't even think my mom knows how to work our stove. Why do you think I spend so much time at Willow's." Suddenly his eyes clouded over with sadness. "Or, I guess I should say, spent."
"Your friendship has been suffering lately," Giles stated matter-of-factly.
"You could say that," Xander said and shoved another forkful of food in his mouth to avoid speaking further on the subject. Unfortunately, Giles wasn't so easily deterred.
"I've noticed, but you all like to keep me out of the loop on personal matters. Care to tell me why?" Giles asked, finally digging into his own breakfast.
"You don't know?" Xander asked, looking up from his meal in surprise. It wasn't until now that Xander noticed that Giles was dressed more casually than usual. Way more casual, he wore a pair of jeans with white button-up shirt untucked, the first top buttons undone, showing a small patch of chest hair. Xander looked away quickly, ashamed at the surge of lust he suddenly felt.
"Well, I know that it had to do with your break-ups with Cordelia and Oz. I guessed that the two of you got closer, so to speak."
"So to speak," Xander said, dropping his fork back to his plate with a loud clanking noise. "Look, I'm feeling kinda grimey. Would it be okay if I took a shower?"
Giles looked up at him, surprised to have their conversation end so abruptly. He decided not to press the matter, Xander had already revealed enough of himself the night before. Giles was more than happy to give the boy a short breather before he addressed the subject again. "Of course, the bathroom is up the stairs, first door on the left."
Xander wiped his mouth with his napkin and moved to take his dish in the kitchen until Giles stopped him. "You go ahead, I'll get that." Xander nodded his thanks and walked out of the dinette. He stopped when Giles called his name out. "Xander, there's something I want to discuss with you once you are done."
"All right," Xander called back, already dreading the conversation.
Giles entered the steam-filled room quietly, so not to alert Xander to his presence. Carefully, he placed his bundle on the toilet seat and moved back to the door to leave. He stopped abruptly when he heard Xander's voice. "I'm only happy when rains," Xander sang in an amazingly cheerful voice. "Da da da da da da, da da aaaah." He barely contained the laugh that came to him. Xander obviously didn't know the rest of the lyrics to whatever song it was he was trying to sing.
Giles' heart warmed at the sound of the off-tune singing. It amazed him that Xander could continue to be so outwardly cheerful when he was sure that he must be dying inside.
Biting the inside of his lip, Giles watching the silhouette of the boy through the steam-covered shower door. His hips were moving in time with the loud humming. Swallowing back the lump in his throat, he squeezed his eyes shut tightly against the rush of excitement that went through him. For the time being, he would have to keep his attraction to the boy in check. The last thing he needed right now was another dysfunctional relationship. And being sexually involved with a forty-something, male librarian would definitely be considered dysfunctional to most.
Shaking out of his thought, Giles left the bathroom, closing the door behind him quietly.
When Xander got out of the shower and began drying off he was surprised to
see a bundle of fresh clothes waiting for him on the toilet seat. Wrapping
the towel around his hips, Xander went over and sorted through the pile. A
plain black T-shirt, some dark blue jeans and on the bottom a pair of blue,
silk boxers.
Shaking himself a bit, Xander started to pull the clothes on. When he was
done he looked down at himself. Practically a perfect fit. The jeans weren't
quite as baggy as he liked them, but other than that they were fine. He
unnecessarily wrapped the towel around his head and left the bathroom with a
big goofy grin.
Bounding down the stairs five at a time, Xander called out to Giles. "Hey,
Jeeves! I didn't know you owned any normal-people's clothes."
Giles turned from his spot on the sofa to see Xander wearing the clothes that
he had left for him and the white towel wrapped around his head like a
turban. "Thanks, by the way," Xander said, plopping down on the sofa next to
Giles. The tea in the cup that Giles was holding sloshed around and some
splattered onto his pants. Giles gave Xander a brief look of annoyance before
placing the cup on the coffee table and snatching up some tissues to dab at
the wetness on his pants. "Sorry about that," Xander said sheepishly.
Done with his task, Giles turned back to Xander and couldn't contain the
laughter that bubbled up. "Xander, you look positively ridiculous," he
managed between his chuckles.
Xander laughed too and pulled the towel off of his head and left it to hang
around his shoulders. He ruffled his wet hair a bit, shaking some of the
water into Giles' face. "Be careful, will you?" Giles said, rubbing his eye
after the water hit it.
"Sorry," Xander said again, looking a bit chagrined.
Giles regained his composure quickly and looked at Xander seriously. Xander's
smile fell when he realized that it was time for the talk. "Talk time?" he
asked the former Watcher.
"Talk time," Giles confirmed.
"Look, we did the sharing and bonding thing already. Can't we just let this
go?" Xander asked pleadingly.
"No, we can't," Giles said firmly and turned so his body was facing Xander.
"I can't forget what you told me last night. Not any of it, and I don't want
to for that matter."
"Come on, Giles. Look, don't worry about me. I can take care of myself,"
Xander said, all of a sudden getting very defensive.
"Those bruises prove that you cannot. And I cannot, in good conscience, allow
you to go home when I know what is going on there," Giles paused for a moment
to allow Xander to respond. He didn't. He just looked down into his lap.
"You're eighteen years old, so I don't see any reason why you can't leave."
"That's easy for you to say!" Xander finally stepped in heatedly. "I don't
have a job. I don't have any money. No where to go. No prospects ahead of me.
Hell, I probably won't get into any colleges. What am I supposed to move into
the nearest Salvation Army? Thanks, but no thanks."
"Xander, I wasn't suggesting that you do any such thing," Giles said. He was
about to continue, but was swiftly cut off.
"Then where the Hell am I supposed to go, huh? You think you got all the
answers? Well, tell me that, huh?" Xander said angrily.
"If you would shut up for a moment I will!" Giles flared back. Xander calmed
quickly and sat back against the cushions in a huff. "I was about to say,
before I was so rudely interrupted, that I would be happy to have you here. I
don't have another room so you would have to sleep on the couch, but it's a
lot more comfortable than a right jab to the kidney, if you ask me."
After Giles stopped speaking he waited for Xander to reply. Xander only
stared at Giles, his mouth agape. "Well, say something, will you?"
"I....I....Giles, you don't want me to stay with you. I'm loud and I'm messy
and I'm a big pain in the ass. You'd get tired of me in a day and-" Giles
quickly cut Xander's rambling off. "There's no arguing with me about this.
You're staying here and that's an order. I will not allow you to go back to
that place."
Xander stared at him at a loss for a words. "I....uh.....uh.....okay, I
guess. If it's an order."
"Would you like me to come in with you?" Giles asked before Xander got out of
his car.
"No, that's okay," Xander said and got out.
"Well then, I'll just wait here," Giles said, shutting off the car.
"No, I'll be fine, Giles. It might take a while and I don't want you sitting
out here all by yourself," Xander told him.
"I just....well I," Giles grasped for words. "I want to be nearby should you
need me." Xander graced the older man with a small smile.
"Giles, I'll be fine. My dad probably isn't even home. Now, go do something
librarian-y and I'll meet you back at your place," Xander said and shut the
passenger door on any further argument.
Once he got to his front porch, Xander waited for Giles to pull away from the
curb. It took a couple of minutes, but the car finally sputtered to life. It
made a loud clanging noise and pulled off. Xander watched the crappy car from
his spot on the porch with disappointment. He wished that he had allowed
Giles to stay, but this was just something that he had to do on his own.
Pulling out his set of keys, he quietly let himself into the house he had
called home for all of his life. After shutting the door behind him, he held
his breath, listening carefully for any sounds coming from inside. Satisfied
that no one was up and about, he climbed the staircase.
He let out a sigh once he entered the sanctity of his room. Moving to his
closet, he pulled out his army surplus duffel bag and started yanking clothes
off their hangers to shove them inside. Once he was done with all of his
clothes, he moved to his dresser and pulled out all of his clean underwear
and socks and deposited them in the bag. He chose three or four of his
favorite pairs of shoes and used them to top off the bag.
When he was done packing as many of his clothes as he could fit in the
duffel, he looked around the room. This was his home. This was where he went
to escape everything that plagued him, but even here he wasn't safe from
reality. He wouldn't be able to take any of his clocks. He'd have to come
back later for the CD player his grandma had gotten him for his sixteenth
birthday. He just hoped that his dad wouldn't pawn it before he could come
back for it.
Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he moved to his bed and picked up his
book satchel. He was sticking all of his CDs in their correct sheaths in his
CD book. When he heard the door to his room open he whipped around to see his
mom leaning tiredly against his doorjamb. "Shouldn't you be in school,
Xander?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.
"It's Saturday, Mom," he told her and shoved his full CD book into his satchel.
"Are you okay, baby?" he heard her ask before he felt her hand on his elbow.
"Of course I am, Mom," he assured her and pulled away from her touch.
He couldn't look at her so he didn't see her eyes settle on his packed duffel
bag. "Were you planning on going somewhere?" Her voice sounded scared and
made him wince.
Turning to face her, he found her trembling and looking down at her feet.
"Yeah, Mom. It's about time for me to fly the nest. I'm eighteen now so it's
only a matter of time before he tells me to get lost anyway. I figured I'd
save us all the grief."
She looked up into his face, her eyes wide and glossy. "B...bu....but where
will you go? You can't leave, Xander."
"Don't worry, I got a place to go."
"No," she shook her head. "You're not serious. You can't leave! I won't let
you!" She grabbed onto his arm desperately and tried to pull him away from
his bag.
Turning away from her, he easily pulled his arm out of her grasp. He started
collecting his scattered school books and shoving them back into his sachel.
"You can't stop me, Mom. I have to go."
"No, I'm your mother. You *have* to listen to me," she whined. She started to
frantically pull his books out of his satchel.
"Mom, stop!" Xander yelled and snatched the books back from her.
"Xander, please!" she cried frantically. Xander turned back to his now-crying
mother. He had always hated to see her cry, but it seemed that it could never
be avoided. He jumped a bit when she threw herself against his chest.
"Please, you can't leave me. You're all that I have," she sobbed into his
shoulder.
Wrapping his arms around her, he started stroking her hair. "You don't have
to stay here either. You can leave him, ya know," he told her.
"Mmm mmm," she shook her head against him. "He'd never let me." She pressed
herself closer to him. "How can I convince you to stay?" Xander cringed as
her hand slid down from his shoulder, between their bodies to cup his crotch.
"No, Mom," he said and tried to push her away, but she clung to him tightly.
She squeezed his shaft through the material of his jeans and a tear of
self-disgust slipped from Xander's eye as he felt himself harden in response.
"Mom, please don't," he begged.
"This is what you need. Mommy will make it all better." Xander's eyes were
squeezed shut and his head shaking back in forth as her finger moved over
him. He felt when she slid down his body to her knees.
As soon as he felt her soft hand touch his hard flesh he yelled, "NO!!" He
pushed his mother away from him. She fell back on her ass and looked on in
horror as her son buttoned up his pants. "Never again, Mom," he told her in a
cold voice.
Tears quickly sprung to her eyes and started streaking down her face. "Don't
you understand? What you do is not natural." Xander quickly snatched up his
satchel and his duffel and slung them both over his shoulders.
When he got to the door she finally spoke again. "It's what all men want,"
she said in a choked voice.
He didn't turn around. "Not me. All I ever wanted was a normal family, but I
guess that's out." Taking a deep breath, he opened his door and prepared to
leave. But he turned around one last time to see his mother a sobbing heap on
his bedroom floor. "I love you, Mom," he told her quietly. Then he left.
His load was heavy, but Xander ignored the ache it was causing in his already
sore muscles. He walked blindly as he let the tears stream down his face, not
seeming to notice the weird looks he was getting from all of the people who
passed him
Suddenly, he could register two strong hands on his shoulders, gently shaking
him. Startled, he dropped his duffel and jumped back, his fist raised. His
eyes settled on a shaken Oz, whose hands were raised defensively. Xander let
his head fall in shame, as well as his fist.
"Xander, are you okay? I must have called your name ten times, but you didn't
seem to hear me," Oz asked. The neutral tone to Oz's voice was what really
set him off.
"GOD! DAMN! IT!" Xander yelled and kicked his discarded duffel. "SHIT! FUCK!
FUCK!" He continued to scream and kick his bag to punctuate his words.
Finally he dropped to the steps of a walkway and buried his head in his
hands. The tears and sobs flowed from him as he thought of the events that
had taken place today. Today and many days before this one. It made him feel
dirty and he doubted that feeling would ever go away.
Then he felt gentle hands wrap around his wrists and he pulled back. He saw
Oz kneeling before him, a look of deep concern etching his soft features.
"Oh, God," Xander croaked and threw himself against Oz. He wrapped his arms
around the other boy's narrow chest and buried his face in his shoulder. Oz
didn't pull away, he just wrapped comforting arms around Xander. "It's all so
fucked up," Xander said, his voice muffled against Oz's shirt. Oz only
stroked his back soothingly.
They stayed like that for a few long moments before Xander pulled back and Oz
released him. "I'm s...sorry," Xander apologized and wiped at his
tear-streaked face.
"Don't be," Oz said and stood up. He offered Xander his hand, who accepted it
and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. "Come on, I'll give you a ride
home."
Xander picked up his duffel bag and followed Oz to his van. He got in and
threw his bag in the back, while Oz started up the van. "Uh, Oz, I'm not
going home," he told the red headed guitarist.
"Okay, then where to?"
"Um, I'm going to...uh...Giles' place." Oz quirked an eyebrow in surprise,
but decided against questioning Xander about it.
A few minutes passed in silence before Oz said, "Do you want to talk about
it?"
"Not now," Xander answered without looking away from the window. "Maybe
another time though." Oz knew that he would probably never know what it was
that had made Xander so upset, but he didn't really mind. He was just happy
that he could be there for him when he had needed someone. The thought that
it could be about Willow crossed his mind and he chuckled at how ironic it
would be, but still he didn't press the other boy.
The rest of the ride went by with the both of them silent, and lost in their
own thoughts. When Oz pulled up in front of Giles' apartment, he shut off the
engine. "Do you want any help with your bag?" he asked Xander.
"No, I can get it," Xander said, dragging the bag out of the back and
hoisting it onto his lap. "Just...look, I'd appreciate it if you didn't
mention this to Willow or anybody. Is that cool?"
"I don't want to lie to her," Oz said.
"Well, if she should happen to say 'Hey, did you happen to see Xander crying
like a girl on 9th street, go ahead, but if she doesn't bring it up..."
Xander trailed off.
"You got it, man."
"Thanks for the ride," Xander said and got out.
When he entered the quiet apartment, Xander saw Giles sitting on the couch
with a book in his lap. Giles turned as soon as he heard Xander enter. He was
up in a second when he saw the disheveled look of his new charge. Xander held
up a hand to stop him. "I'm all right, Giles. My mom was just a little upset,
is all."
"All right then, Xander. Come on and I'll show where you can put your things."
Giles knew there was more to it, more to this boy then he had ever thought,
but he figured Xander would tell him when the time was right. For now, he
would wait. Wait until Xander trusted him enough to tell him everything.
The End