Digressions - Nihilistbear's Writings

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A Sort Of Fairytale Author’s note: Written as a gift for Willa, and only a couple months late! Yay! Okay, so I suck. Moving along… Set during Venial Sins. For anyone who hasn’t read that, it’s Xander/Jesse, pre series, set in canon to really go for the hurt. This is the first time the story refers to. And can I just say, writing slash involving two virgins is INSANELY HARD! ACK! Rated: Anywhere from Hard R to NC-17… I’m not exactly sure on this one. ~~~~~~ “So…” Jesse glances at Xander uncomfortably, leaning back against the broken drywall and exposed beams that pass for a wall, arms and legs crossed, a worried look in his eyes. “So…” Xander says, sitting beside him, arms and legs also crossed. They’d been together for a couple weeks, now. No one knew… he had no idea if there would ever come a time when they could tell someone. And he wanted to, he really did. But they couldn’t. The world wasn’t kind to guys in love, especially if that world consisted of his parents and Jesse’s parents. They’d be killed dead, deader than dead, because being gay is so very, very wrong to them. But Xander doesn’t get that. How can this be a bad thing, him and Jesse? Because it’s perfect, as far as he can tell. He’s never felt anything this perfect ever, and he knows he never will. This is it. Jesse’s The One, in capital letters, like Willow uses when she talks about falling in love, while he’s trying not to notice the hopeful look in her eyes as she stares at him and says those exact words in this breathy voice. Because he doesn’t want to hurt Willow’s feelings, ever, and knowing that he and Jesse wanted each other instead of her… well, that would probably break her heart. It would definitely end their friendship. So they keep things quiet. They don’t hold hands in public, they try not to stare at each other too much, and they go to the Bronze and pretend to check out girls, playing footsie under the table. And every night, they tell their parents they’re going to each other’s house, and isn’t great that his parents and Jesse’s don’t really give a damn about them? Silver lining, he figures, because they never question it. They end up in this old warehouse in the industrial area of town, not far from the Bronze, kinda ragged and dangerous, but completely abandoned and far away from anything but other abandoned warehouses. They dragged an old mattress here from the dump, drenched it in Lysol and covered it in sheets and quilts taken from Xander’s house. Jesse brought some candles and stuck them in the various empty wine bottles scattered around the place, and grabbed his two favourite pillows from his bedroom. The sheets go home with Xander in the morning, the pillows with Jesse, and their parents never notice the overstuffed backpacks obviously not filled with clothes, since they come home wearing the same thing every morning, or the ridiculous amount of laundry Xander does. And every night they get naked, and they kiss, and they touch each other, and Jesus, it’s so amazing. It’s electric, Jesse’s hands exploring his body, his hands in Jesse’s hair, and the sounds Jesse makes as Xander explores him with his mouth, kisses his nipples and licks at his belly button. They wake up every morning tangled in piles of sheets and blankets, all tied up in fabric and lust and each other. Nothing compares to waking up with Jesse wrapped around him, long legs over his, long arms around his neck, face buried in his shoulder. They’ve got lots of memories in this old building. Like the first time Jesse put his mouth on him, and he’d come instantly, all over Jesse’s face, and they’d laughed about it after Xander stopped blushing. But Jesse had laughed a little too hard, so Xander had done the exact same thing to him, and Jesse held on for a little longer, not much, but he was smirking when Xander finished, swallowing the mouthful which hadn’t tasted as bad as he’d feared. So Xander had to kiss that smirk of Jesse’s mouth, and they’d fallen back on the bed, all mouths and hands, wrestling and kissing and breathing heavy and laughing. And it was always like that. Fun, and sweet, and Xander can’t imagine anything being this great ever. In fact, this is the first time they’d been uncomfortable since that first night, when they’d almost fallen apart, when Xander’s stupid mouth had nearly lost him this. See, Jesse wants Xander to, well… fuck him. In the ass. And Xander hates even thinking about it that way, because it’s so crude, and him and Jesse aren’t something crude, they’re better than that. But that’s what Jesse wants, has explained in stammers and bursts and Xander just stares. Stares and thinks of Jesse kneeling on the bed, his face hidden, that little hole he’s tried not to think too much about all exposed and God, he’s getting hard just thinking about it, and he squirms a little on the bed, hoping Jesse won’t notice his erection through his cords. But Jesse does notice, and smiles a little. “You’re interested,” he murmurs, one hand reaching out to touch Xander’s fly. “I can tell.” “Yeah,” he replies, lifting his hips to Jesse’s hand. “Yeah, I am. But…” “But what? But nothing,” Jesse says, smirking. “Well, my butt, of course, which isn’t nothing.” And Xander laughs, too loudly, because that wasn’t really funny, but he has to do something to ease the tension in the room. He cuts off his laughter abruptly, looks away. “It’ll hurt,” he murmurs, shifting uncomfortably. “You know, I’m kind of aware of that,” Jesse says with a grin. “I mean, I didn’t think it was going to feel good. Immediately anyway.” He sidles closer, curls up beside Xander, rests his head on Xander’s chest, and Xander drapes an arm over his shoulders, bends down, kisses the top of Jesse’s head, featherlight kisses, trying to let him know how much he cares about him. “I don’t want to hurt you,” Xander says, his arm spasming, pulling Jesse closer. “I’d die if I hurt you. I really, really would, Jess.” And Jesse sits up, moves away, and for a second, Xander’s so frightened, so certain he’s lost Jesse again, so sure his clumsy words and stupid phrases have shoved Jesse too far this time. He wishes he wasn’t so bad with words, wishes he could just get it right. Just once. But Jesse doesn’t move too far away, and thank God for that, because too many inches between them on these nights and Xander gets scared. He thinks of the yawning hole where Jesse had been if he would leave, thinks of going through life without him. Thinks about how that would destroy him. Jesse kneels, stares at him for a long time, then places his hands - those long, elegant hands, and why didn’t Jesse play the piano – on either side of his face. “You won’t hurt me,” he says, brown eyes catching his, completely serious. “You won’t. Not like you’re thinking. It’ll be a good hurt, Xander.” “A good hurt? This is as bad as my dad saying belting me hurts him more than me.” He shifts away from Jesse, tries to distance himself from the pleading boy he – say it – loves and his own aching need to take what’s being offered. “There’re no good hurts.” “Sure there are,” Jesse cajoles, moves in, and if he gets any closer, Xander’s going to have to get off the bed to avoid him. Which is something he really doesn’t want to do, because this bed is the only place he feels real these days. So he lets Jesse get as close as he wants. And Jesse leans down, nips his ear lobe. Xander shivers. “Like that one. That hurt a little, but in a good way. Or - ” his hand moves down, squeezes Xander’s cock briefly. Xander bucks his hips and moans loudly. “That. That’s a good hurt, right?” A teasing smile, and Xander’s beginning to see Jesse’s logic. Of course, some of that has to do with the hand still resting on his fly, moving up and down the loose corduroy. “So, some hurts are good,” Jesse continues to reason in an almost hypnotic voice. “Right?” and his hand moves faster, and Xander’s moving up towards him, and manages to say, through strangled breaths, something that sounds like “mghnmhuh,” which Jesse rightly interprets as a ‘yes’. “I figured you’d eventually see it my way,” Jesse says with a grin. He moves his hand from Xander’s lap, eliciting a whimper. “Yeah, you’re a master debate artist,” Xander pants. He tries to grab Jesse’s hand, tries to pull it back onto him, but Jesse’s feeling a little playful, it seems. He scrambles to the other side of the bed. “And evil. Just so you know.” Jesse laughs. “I’m just grabbing some stuff.” He pulls his backpack onto the bed, dumps it out. Xander stares opened mouth at the things that fall onto the quilt. Lubricant, condoms, whiskey… aspirin? “Aspirin?” he asks. “Why aspirin?” He grabs the bottle of whiskey. “And, um… didn’t this get us in trouble, last time?” “But a good kind of trouble, right?” Jesse says with a grin. Xander just shakes his head and smiles in response. Jesse has the kind of logic that’s worthless to argue with. “And as for the aspirin… well, I was reading this book - ” “Book?” Xander says in shock. “There’s a book? About - ” he gestures between them, then at the stuff on the bed. Jesse laughs, a nervous laugh that’s a little too high pitched, and Xander realizes that Jesse’s really serious about he whole, uh, butt thing. Because Jesse hasn’t researched a damn thing since they were in sixth grade and he really got into Star Wars, but he’s researched this. “Yeah,” he mumbles, blushing, and Xander realizes he’s really being a dick about all this. He shakes his head to himself, places everything on the milk crate they’re using as a bedside table, and pulls Jesse to him, hugs him, kisses his forehead, rubs his back. Little soothing gestures that Jesse likes. “Wow. You really can learn about everything in the library. Who’d’a thunk it?” And Jesse’s laugh is a little more normal when he says that, and Xander feels him relax in his arm and relaxes a little as well. “Well, I kind of got it from this guy, who I gave some money to buy it at the, um sex shop,” Jesse says, and Xander can feel him blushing against the side of his neck. “It’s… helpful. For instance, I’m a bottom.” “Huh?” Xander’s a little lost. “Okay, and be brutally honest. Promise?” Jesse’s a little nervous again, and Xander will do anything to soothe him, so he nods his head against Jesse’s hair. “All right. Have you ever thought about, um… well… you know.” And Xander does know, knows Jesse’s alluding to the whole butt thing as gracefully as he can. And he doesn’t want to hurt Jesse’s feelings, but… “No.” No, he hasn’t not exactly. He’s thought of it, impossible not to since he’s, y’know dating a guy, but it didn’t seem like anything he’d really be all that interested in. “I didn’t think so. Because you’re, well, a top. And I want it because I’m a bottom,” and jesusgod, is he really having this conversation? Are he and Jesse really talking about, um, butt sex? Like, in a serious way? Sometimes his life is too surreal for words. “Okay. I guess that makes… well, it makes no sense whatsoever, but hey, I suppose I could understand if I thought about it long enough,” Xander says, sticking with the brutal honesty agreement. “I mean, I don’t exactly get it, I think.” Jesse pulls away from him, all earnest now. “It’s like this,” he explains. “I want it. You know. I really, really want to try it at least. So I like being, um, on the bottom. And you really don’t want it. So you like being on top.” “You know, this is a very weird conversation,” Xander says nervously. “Maybe we should talk about something else. Like, uh… the aspirin. That sounds like a good plan.” Jesse grinned. “Um, I heard that things hurt less if you take a couple aspirin a half an hour before they happen? I think that was about tattoos, but I figure it’ll work for anything, y’know?” Oh God, Jesse’s babbling. Jesse’s babbling because he has a plan. Jesse has been planning this. Holy shit. This is going to happen, because Jesse’s given it so much thought, and Xander can’t bear to not do whatever Jesse wants him to do. But he’s not ready for this. Not yet. Soon, and possibly tonight, since Jesse’s so set, and since he’s going for honesty, he’s intrigued by the whole thing. More than intrigued. On this brutally honest level, he wants this. Wants Jesse. Like that. But they need to slow this down a little, so Xander nods wordlessly as Jesse explains. Then he points at the lube. “That?” and he knows the answer, he’s not completely in the dark about these things, but this is about slowing things down, so he listens as Jesse stutters his way through an explanation of the lube and the condoms. Finally they got to the bottle of whiskey. “Well…” Jesse blushes. “I figured it might be, uh, easier, if we were a little drunk. Not like last time,” he hastily adds, “but a little.” Xander nods again, and realizes, from the semi-frightened look on Jesse’s face, that he hasn’t smiled for a while, so he grins, hopefully a real grin and says, “Well, let’s get to the drinking part. Because I know how to drink. I can handle that.” And now Jesse’s got this smile on his face, like a sunbeam or something equally corny. He uncaps the whiskey, takes a healthy slug, and passes it to Xander. ~~~~~~ “Maybe that was too much whiskey,” Xander says as Jesse looks at him through glazed eyes. “I’m fine,” Jesse mumbles. “Really, I’m fine.” He rolls over on the bed. “And don’t think you’re getting off the hook on this, just because you fed me too much whiskey,” and Xander laughs a little. Jesse looks up. “What?” he asks suspiciously. “What’s so funny?” “Oh, nothing…” but Xander can’t stop the giggles, blames that on the whiskey. “It’s just, aren’t I supposed to by plying you with liquor so you will want to sleep with me, not so you won’t?” Jesse giggles a little, too. “Something like that, I think,” he replies, and curls himself up against Xander. “Listen Xan… if it’s really such a huge thing, we can just skip it.” “And again, I feel like I should be the one saying these things,” Xander replies, squeezing Jesse briefly, smelling his hair, the whiskey on his breath, and there’s nothing he wants more in this life that to take care of Jesse forever, and maybe it’s just puppy love, just a high school infatuation, but that’s not how it feels. Xander’s really hooked on how things feel, if they feel right or feel wrong. And he feels like maybe him and Jesse are going to be forever. Maybe they’re going to be epic, y’know? And part of taking care of Jesse forever is knowing when he’s ready for something and when he’s not. And he thinks that maybe Jesse is ready for this, and maybe he could be, too, if he wasn’t so scared he’d do something wrong, and hurt him too badly. Hurting Jesse isn’t something he can even imagine. But turning away from him right now would hurt him, too. And if they’re really going to be forever, this is going to happen some day, right? And maybe he’s just trying to justify this to himself - okay he is just trying to justify this to himself, because the whiskey and Jesse have combined to make him really interested in the idea – but it’s time, he figures. Time to try. “Are you sure?” he whispers. “About this? Because I don’t really know what I’m doing here. I don’t know if it’s going to feel good or…” He shrugs a little, his sentence trailing off. “I’m sure, and I know it’s probably not going to be perfect, Xan. I’m not expecting some kind of sex god thing here. I just…” Jesse blushes a little. “It’s about being close to you, I guess, and that’s a corny as hell, so lets pretend I didn’t say it.” Xander smiles. “Forgotten,” he assures Jesse. But it’s really not, of course, because Xander really holds on to the little things Jesse says sometimes that make it clear that, for him, this is kind of a forever thing, too. So there’s more whispering, and Jesse rolls the condom down Xander’s cock, scared to look in his eyes, and then covers the condom in lube, And Jesse’s on his knees, facing away, and Xander can see the tiny place he’s supposed to put himself into, and how the hell is he going to pull this off? He has no idea what he’s doing, and he’s sure it’s going to hurt Jesse horribly. But they have to do this sometime, so he pushes forward, and Jesse grunts, Xander stops instantly. “No, don’t stop,” Jesse gasps. “Please.” So Xander tries again, tries to push inside, past the barrier, and God, Jesse’s whimpering, but this is what he wants, right? it’s what he wants, he has to do this, has to hurt him like this, because he asked, and Xander wants to do whatever Jesse asks. He’s inside now, and it’s so tight, and so warm, and he wonders if this is what a girl feels like, but probably not, and anyway, Jesse’s the one for him, and then Jesse balances himself on one arm, takes one of Xander’s hands, wraps it around his cock, and Xander starts moving his hand, and Jesse’s moaning, moaning so loudly, and moving back a little on him, the whimpers and the moans all mixed up inside his head, and he’s going to come, he’s got to make Jesse feel it, too, and then Jesse’s all tense, and he wails and warm and wet all over his hand and he screams, lets go, lets go inside of Jesse, warm and tight and the only place he’s ever wanted to be, and he never even knew. ~~~~~~ And after, after talking about how it felt and how it hurt, and Jesse whispers something about Willow, as though they’ve crossed something here, something they can never take back. Condom tossed on the floor, need to remember to flush that when he takes it home, and maybe they need to bring a garbage can in here. But he’s not going to think practically right now, not after, when Jesse’s all snug against his side, head on his chest, sort of humming, sort of giggling. This is what he lives for, you know, the after, where him and Jesse are the only people on the planet, and they talk about stupid things like comic books and horror movies, and it’s almost like before all this happened, except they’re naked, and occasionally they kiss during conversation breaks. This is what a relationship is made of, Xander thinks as he looks at Jesse, recounting some story about working on his dad’s site. It’s not just the kissing and the… other stuff. It’s these moments that make Jesse The One, the moments when Xander thinks he could listen to Jesse talk about anything, because he just loves hearing his voice. He squeezes Jesse for a second, really tight, and Jesse looks up, confused. “What?” he asks. “I mean, I didn’t think the story about the ladder was all that cute.” Xander laughs. “You know, Jesse, I really love you,” he says casually, hoping Jesse won’t realize how much he means that, and kind of hoping he will, too. “Yeah?” Jesse says with a smile. “Yeah,” Xander says quietly, and he looks down at their hands, long fingers wrapped around each other, tries not to look at Jesse’s face, waits for the rejection he knows is going to come. “Well, that’s good,” Jesse says lightly. “Because I really love you too, y’know,” and Xander looks up to see Jesse blushing and kin of looking at a spot on the wall that isn’t really there. And what else can he do? He could yell and cheer and dance a little dance, but really, he’s have to move away from Jesse to do that, and that’s not something he’s willing to do So he just drops a kiss on the side of Jesse’s mouth, and Jesse turns his head enough so their mouths are touching, just lightly, nothing sexy, well, not overly sexy, because kissing Jesse’s always a little sexy and ten they slide down in the bed. Xander hauls the comforter over them, they burrow inside, deep in the blanket, and for a little while, they can forget that no one can ever know about this, they can forget that they’re lying to everyone, and if anyone knew they’d be in so much trouble, and just pretend that the world is always like this. Xander wishes it always will be. Other Standalones a href="mine.html">Choose a Different Series 01 May 2004