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Venial Sins That meaning, sins which are not mortal sins, minor sins that everyone commits. And in a good way ::wink:: Author’s Note: Set in the summer before Buffy’s arrival in Sunnydale. Xander/Jesse… This is a sad fic, people. Sorry! I tried for happy. Be warned! And there’s a surprise pairing at the end. Written as a gift for Willa Rated NC-17. Duh. Like I’d write anything less for Willa. Forgive me if the tense gets wonky. I tried to catch all the mistakes, really. ~~~~~~ 1. Denial Xander would never tell anyone, but sometimes he dreams about Jesse. Not dreams like they’re both superheroes and saving the world and having sex with all the hot chicks, but dreams like they’re both with some girl, usually Cordelia, because Jesse likes her so much, and they’re both having sex with her, a la his dad’s porn collection. Which is normal, right? Because, all bitchiness aside, Cordelia’s hot, and who doesn’t imagine having sex with a hot chick and his best friend? No, the scary part of this dream is right near the end, when they’ve both screwed Cordelia in a hundred different ways and they’re lying on their sides, with Cordelia between them. Jesse suddenly moves his hand to Xander’s neck and runs his fingers along the nape, tickling the nerves and making Xander arch his head. Then Jesse braces himself on his elbow, leans over Cordelia’s sleeping head and kisses him deeply. This is the moment Xander always wakes up in a cold sweat with an aching erection. He jerks off, trying to convince himself that the images flashing through his mind, of the muscles in Jesse’s back moving as he thrusts into Cordelia, or the look on his face as he comes, are not a sign of latent gayness. Because he’s watching Jesse screw a girl, right? Not dreaming of Jesse screwing him or anything like that. Because he’s straight. Totally straight, and staring at Jesse when the summer days have gotten so hot he’s taken off his shirt, or feeling his mouth go dry whenever Jesse saunters across a room, are just crazy hormone stuff, because he’s sixteen and man, everything’s sexy these days. Right? So if he wakes up and jerks off after dreaming about Jesse, it’s normal. He’s normal, not gay, and everything’s fine. He’s just never going to tell anyone about it. 2. Defiance “Hey, Xander, Willow,” Jesse says easily as he walks up to them. They’re sitting on Willow’s front porch, hanging out in the shade for a bit. It’s a hot day, one of those summer days where you just want to be as naked and cool as possible, where the heat is so wet you feel like you’re walking through a sauna. “Hey Jesse!” Willow says brightly. “Me and Xander were just talking about hitting the beach for a while. It’s kind of a long walk, but it’s so hot, y’know?” Xander says nothing, because he’s entranced by the way Jesse’s damp tee shirt is clinging to his chest. Jesse’s a skinny guy, but you can tell he works on his dad’s construction site in the summer; he’s got all these muscles, and the shirt is outlining them flawlessly. “I have the perfect thing for a day by the beach,” Jesse replies with a grin. He takes his backpack off, and Xander watches the way each muscle bunched and released as he does this. It’s pretty… No! Not sexy! Not sexy because Jesse is a guy, and his stupid hormones need to get the picture: he is not gay! And he’s definitely not attracted to his best friend. Jesse unzips the backpack and produces a bottle of… something. It looks like the crap whiskey his dad drinks. “I lifted it off my dad,” he says proudly. “We can grab some Coke or something, and see what it tastes like!” He looks at them with a wide grin, expecting congratulations of some sort. What he gets is a slightly dazed and flushed looking Xander, and a frowning Willow. “What?” he asks impatiently. “C’mon, tell me how cool I am!” “Drinking isn’t cool, Jesse,” Willow says haughtily. “It’s yucky.” Jesse frowns at her. “Whatever!” he says incredulously. “Let’s just try, and if it sucks, we won’t do it ever again.” He looks over at Xander. “C’mon, man. Let’s have a drink.” He jiggles the bottle slightly and a smirk crosses his face. “You know you want to,” he cajoles. Xander shakes himself out of his daze. He looks at the bottle dangling from Jesse’s hand, then up Jesse’s arm to his face, which looks a little hopeful and scared behind the defiant glare he’s throwing at Willow “Sure,” he says lightly. He turns to Willow. “You coming with us?” Willow lifts her nose and turns slightly. “Drinking is bad, Xander, especially since we’re so young. I’ll stay here, if that’s all right with you.” She’s hurt, both Xander and Jesse can feel it, but they have a mission, and sometimes you can’t take everyone’s feelings into account. 3. Intoxication After wandering around town a bit, still feeling kind of bad for hurting Willow’s feelings, and terrified that someone could stare right through Jesse’s backpack and see the bottle sitting there, Xander and Jesse scrap the plan for heading to the beach – too open – and head to Breaker Woods for a long session of drinking and pretending they ‘re adults. They find the clearing that everyone knows about, the one far enough away to hide normal talking from anyone who might be snooping around, but close enough to civilization so they could scream if any wild dogs, or gangs on PCP, or whatever the latest Sunnydale bogeyman was, came and attacked them. They’d stopped for a bottle of Coke, and Jesse had picked up some Gatorade bottles. Apparently, the guys on the construction site used them all the time to hide the fact they drink on the job. They drank the Gatorade on the long walk. They settle in the clearing. Jesse leans against an ancient oak tree, and Xander sits across from him. Jesse holds out his hand and Xander wordlessly places the Gatorade bottle in it. He stares as Jesse pours a liberal amount of whiskey into each bottle, then adds Coke until the bottle was full. “Still wanna do this?” Jesse asks Xander quietly. Xander looks up at him. “Do you?” he asks softly. “I’ll do it if you will,” Jesse replies bravely. “Fine,” Xander replies. “Let’s get retarded.” Jesse laughs nervously and Xander starts laughing as well, until they’re both curled up in the fetal position and shaking. Jesse recovers first, and lifts his Gatorade bottle. He clicks it against Xander’s and says, “To being retarded!” They both took a quick drink. Jesse chokes on his and Xander leans over to pound on his back. “Jesse, man. Breathe.” The minor choking fit didn’t stop them, and soon they’ve finished the bottles. Jesse’s hands shake, but somehow he refills both, with more whiskey and less Coke. They drink them, and refill the bottles once more, killing the whiskey in the process. 4. Impure Thoughts They’re both lying in the clearing now, staring up at the barely visible sky. “Xander,” Jesse moans. “Is the sky spinning on your side of the clearing?” Xander squints upwards then shakes his head. “No… well, it wasn’t, but then I moved my head. That might not have been my smartest idea ever.” Jesse groans. “Maybe we should stop looking at the sky,” he mumbles. “I think it’s messing with our minds.” He rolls carefully to his side, and looks at Xander through half closed eyes. “The ground’s not spinning. Not too badly, anyway.” Xander rolls to his side as slowly as possible. Jesse’s lying there, eyes half closed, one arm pillowing his head, the other flung lightly across his waist, the fingers of his free hand tracing patterns in the dirt. Xander watches those fingers, fascinated. Jesse’s hands are so graceful, with their long, tapered fingers. He wonders what Jesse’s fingers would feel like tracing the skin on his neck; God knows he’s dreamed of it often enough. He shakes his head to free himself of the thought, and immediately wishes he hadn’t. He can’t decide which is worse; confused hormones or the way he feels like puking every time he moves too fast. Puking, it is. It might just be the whiskey talking, but the hormones kinda felt good. So he lets his thoughts drift to Jesse’s hair, and the way he was playing with the ends of it. Then he drifted to Jesse’s face, the half closed and unfocused eyes, the way his mouth was open a little. “You’re a mouth breather,” Xander mumbles. “Oh God, man.” Jesse mutters through a chuckle. “Don’t make me laugh right now. I think I’ll hurl.” Xander grinned. “And that would be gross, especially since I don’t think I could move right now,” he replies. “Yeah, me neither,” Jesse mumbles. “It’s comfortable here in the clearing. Let’s not move. Ever.” Xander smiled softly. “Sounds like a good plan to me,” he whispers, edging slightly closer to his best friend. “It’s a lot better than trying to walk home just now.” “Hope the stupid wild dogs and gangs don’t come out tonight,” Jesse says. “Cuz I’m too drunk to run away.” 5. Public Indecency They’ve been lying on their sides and mumbling about stuff Xander couldn’t remember if someone offered him a ton of money and brand new parents. Apparently being drunk made you chatty, but forgetful. He should keep that in mind. It also made you think things you probably shouldn’t think. Like how much you really want to make out with your best friend. He’s got to get off that train of thought, and fast. Or else he’d act on it, and that would be a bad idea. He’s not sure why, since Jesse looks like a hot fudge sundae and a porn star all wrapped into one just now, but some part of his brain knows it’s a bad idea, and he’s pretty sure it’s the part not currently under the influence of alcohol. Jesse sits up slowly. “I need to take a leak,” he says. “So now I gotta stand. Somehow.” “I’ll help,” Xander says quickly, somehow getting to his rather unsteady feet and helping Jesse stand. He wraps his arm around Jesse’s waist, and tries to discreetly sniff Jesse’s hair as he leans on Xander’s shoulder. He helps Jesse over to a corner of the clearing as far away as possible from where they’d decided to sit for the night, and averts his eyes and Jesse unzips and pulls himself out. After all, he knows how Jesse’s built; they shower together at school; it’s not like glimpses aren’t caught from time to time. Jesse finishes and considers his fly for a second. “Forget this,” he mutters. “It’s too complicated. He steps back a few feet, then shucks off his cords. After a second of consideration, he takes off his tee shirt as well, and contemplates his boxers before stripping them off too. “C’mon Xan,” he slurs. “I got a blanket in the bag. We might as well get naked, just in case we end up being bedwetters when we’re drunk.” Xander’s pretty sure this is an alcohol induced dream, since Jesse’s naked, and - he glances down at Jesse’s cock - apparently really, really happy. Because he’s gotten bigger since gym class, and it’s not hanging so limply now. Xander strips as fast as he can, tossing his clothes on top of Jesse’s. They stumble back towards the backpack, still leaning against a tree. Xander’s arm is casually wrapped around Jesse’s waist again, and let’s face it, he’s kinda running his fingers along the smooth skin of Jesse’s side, feeling the texture of it. It’s soft. They pull the blanket out of the backpack, and somehow manage to spread it out before falling on it and laughing. “God, we’re retarded,” Jesse says with a sloppy grin. “We can’t even stand.” Xander giggled, then clapped his hands over his mouth. “And giggling like a couple of girls,” he says with a snort of disgust. “Hey, at least we’re cute naked girls,” Jesse laughs, and Xander looks at him in surprise. “We’re like, hot lesbians or something,” Jesse continues. “I’m Jessica, and you’re Alexis.” “Uh…” Xander’s lost the plot in this conversation; at least that much is clear. How’d they get from being a couple of guys drunk in the woods to being lesbians? Not that he’s complaining or anything, because Jesse’s really, really hot when he flutters his eyelashes and pouts. “Oh Alexis,” Jesse says in a high-pitched voice. “It’s such a beautiful night, isn’t it? It’s a perfect night for making out under the stars!” Jesse looks to the sky and flings out his arms. “I feel so in tune with, like, the universe and stuff!” He giggles. Xander’s jaw drops. “C’mon, Xan,” Jesse urges. “We’re just goofing off. Get into it.” Xander closes his eyes, considers all the reasons why this is a bad idea, but the part of his brain that was making so much sense earlier seems to have shut down at the sight of Jesse naked on a blanket. So he gets into it. “Oh Jessica,” he coos. “You’re so pretty, all naked under the moonlight. I could just kiss you.” Jesse looks over at him, and under the play, Xander can see the serious look in his eyes. “So do it,” he says, falsetto dropped for a moment. He picks it up quickly. “I mean, it’s such a pretty night, and I want you so bad!” He flings himself against the blanket, narrowly missing a tree root. “Take, me, Alexis! Make a woman out of me!” Okay, they can never drink again. Ever. But since they’re never going to drink again… He swoops down and braces himself over Jesse’s shoulders. “Are you sure you want this?” he asks, trying to keep his voice high as he asks a question he really needs to know the answer too. “Yes,” Jesse breathes out. So Xander does what any, uh, red-blooded male playing a lesbian would do. He kisses Jesse softly. Jesse opens his mouth under the kiss, and slips his tongue inside. Xander remembers, through a haze of lust and whiskey, that they both made out with Cordelia Chase way back in seventh grade, during “seven minutes in heaven”. So this isn’t a first kiss for either of them. But it feels like a first kiss, with the tingling in his stomach sending jolts to his cock, and the way he just wants to lay here and make out with Jesse until the world ends. Jesse moans and thrusts his hips up, and as cock meets cock, Xander decides that maybe he doesn’t just want to kiss Jesse until the world ends. So he puts a hand on Jesse’s waist and turns them both on their sides again, then slips his hand down Jesse’s hip and thigh, feeling the soft skin give way to the hair on Jesse’s legs. Jesse moans again, and grabs Xander’s hand, wrapping it around his own dick, holding it in place for a while before moving his hand to Xander’s dick and gripping it firmly. They end the kiss and stare at each other for long seconds. Then Xander figures it’s his turn to take the initiative, and begins to move his hand up and down Jesse’s cock, touching Jesse like he likes to touch himself, trying to see if Jesse likes the same things he does. It seems to work; Jesse clenches his eyes shut and groans, then begins moving his hand on Xander, slowly at first but picking up speed until they’re both moaning and shrieking, until Xander feels Jesse’s body tense, until he feels the warm come spurt from the tip of Jesse’s dick, twice, three times, then a fourth time, and he comes as well, screaming Jesse’s name. 6. Lewd Conversation “Whoa,” Jesse mumbles when they come back down. “So….” “It’s cool,” Xander assures Jesse quickly. “We were just goofing off, right? It’s nothing.” Jesse opens his eyes, and Xander sees a flash of hurt before they close again. “Right. Nothing.” He’s instantly sorry, especially since he wants it to be something, and he’d just said it was nothing to make Jesse feel comfortable. “Or… it could be something. Something important, if you want it to be.” Jesse glares at him. “Don’t pateri – potrisi- what ever the hell that word is that Willow uses when the teachers act like she’s a moron.” He struggles to sit up. “Like you said, it’s cool. Whatever. We’re drunk.” Xander watches as a thousand dreams fall apart in front of him. Because now that they’re drunk, and they’ve, y’know, touched each other, there was the possibility that maybe Jesse actually does want him. And that possibility is disappearing in front of him. “Jesse, stop,” he implores as his friend tries to stand. “It’s not like that. Really. I - ” He runs a hand through his hair, the hand not covered in Jesse’s sperm. “Look. This is hard for me to say…” “Then don’t bother,” Jesse replies angrily, “because I can guess. It was a one-time thing, you didn’t mean it, blah, blah, blah.” He stands abruptly, and somehow maintains his balance. “Forget what happened.” He starts to head unsteadily towards the pile of clothes in the clearing. “I dream about you,” Xander whispers. “All the time. Like every night. I dream about you touching me. I dream that you want me.” Jesse stops. Turns, slowly, actually stepping around instead of spinning, probably so he won’t fall. “What?” he asks. “I dream about you,” Xander repeats, louder now. “I think this is a dream, because there’s no way you want me, no way you actually kissed me and touched me… no way this could be real.” Jesse heads back for the blanket. “I don’t get it,” he says softly. “Maybe you could tell me again, so I can really grasp the situation.” Xander looks into Jesse’s eyes, and sees the teasing glint in them. “I wanted you, for a long time now,” Xander says honestly, and maybe the whiskey was a good idea after all, because he’s not worried that he’s going to embarrass himself, because this is Jesse, man, and Jesse would never think it was weird that Xander likes him, because they were friends. Jesse settles beside him, and leans in to kiss Xander softly on the mouth. “I wanted you for a long time, too,” he confesses. “So I got the whiskey from my dad. I thought maybe if I could get you drunk…” Xander smiles shyly. “And I thought, maybe if you were drunk…” he thinks of something and laughs. “What if Willow had come with us?” he gasps. Jesse grins. “Willow wouldn’t touch alcohol if someone paid her to do it. I wasn’t worried at all.” He lies down on the blanket and pulls on Xander’s arm lightly, pulling him down to lie beside him. Xander complies, and Jesse turns his back against Xander’s chest, leans into him and sighs happily. They fall asleep, naked and content. And no wild dogs or gangs bothered them. 7. Concealment Thus the grand passion of jessexander began. Except no one knew. They couldn’t tell their parents, and Willow was completely out of the question. “She’ll freak,” Jesse said as Xander pulled out of him. It was their first actual time, where one of them was inside the other. Xander rolled off Jesse and lay beside him on the bed. “I know,” he replied with a heavy heart. “Willow probably never even thinks about boys and girls having sex, much less boys having sex with other boys.” “I wish we could tell someone,” Jess said as he rolled carefully onto his back and winced. “This kinda hurts,” he added, changing the subject; as far as Jesse was concerned, there was no reason to depress themselves with things they couldn’t change. Xander looked at him with concern etched on his face. “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, turning to his side and placing a gentle kiss on Jesse’s mouth. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” Jesse smiled softly. “I wanted it, Xan,” he replied. “It was… good. Really good.” So Jesse lost his virginity, and they continued to meet in strange places and hidden corners. Not that Xander was ashamed, of course. He’d tell everyone about him and Jesse if he could. But no one would understand, and they were still just kids. Maybe when they were old enough to take care of themselves, get jobs or something, they’d tell the world and damn the consequences. Then one day, a pretty blonde girl came to school, with the dumbest name on the planet. Buffy. And the next day, Jesse was gone, turned into a vampire. And Xander drove a stake into him by accident, when all he wanted to do was drop the stake, wrap Jesse in his arms and beg him to make him a vampire, too, so they could be together forever. But before he could say the words, Jesse was shoved onto the piece of wood, and Xander had lost him. In the end, he supposed, as he snuck a bottle of whiskey from his dad’s cabinet and headed out to the woods, that was the price he had to pay, for lying, for not telling anyone so that he and Jesse had to go to places like the Bronze and pretend to hit on girls. Jesse just picked the way wrong girl, and why couldn’t the moron have stuck with Cordelia, like he always had before, instead of going off with that blonde chick and leaving him, Xander, alone for the rest of his fucking life? Well, fuck him! Xander threw the bottle of whiskey into the fire he’d built and screamed his anger and frustration out at the top of his lungs. No one heard as Xander’s heart broke. 8. Self Deception “You have the prettiest hands,” Xander muses one night as he ties Spike to the chair in his bedroom. “They’re so… graceful.” “What the fuck are you nattering about?” Spike snaps as Xander ties the ropes tightly. It’s been four years… four years since Jesse left him. He’s tried to fill in the gaps. Cordelia, because Jesse had a sort of crush on her. Willow, the only person who remembered Jesse beyond himself. Faith, whose vitality had reminded Xander of another vividly alive person. And Anya, who liked to play games, whose strange mix of innocence and experience sometimes drove a memory so hard into Xander’s head he winced from the pain. All of them a little bit of Jesse. None of them really coming close. And never another guy, because none of them could be Jesse, not even a little. But now he has Spike, angry, hateful Spike, who isn’t the least bit like Jesse. Except sometimes, when Xander catches him off guard, he sees a nice guy under all that hate. And the way his tee shirts cling to lean muscle, and his long graceful hands, which in his mind’s eye become someone else’s hands, tracing patterns in the dirt the night he and Jesse kissed for the first time. At times like that, it’s easy to pretend Spike’s another slender boy. No, Spike isn’t like Jesse at all, beyond the barest superficial resemblance. But it’s been forever, and Xander wants to hear a deeper voice tonight, not Anya’s high pitched and less than musical speech. He wants to be inside someone whose body feels like his, wants to remember what a lean, muscled body feels like beneath him. And a sick part of him is hoping he can pretend Jesse’s not a pile of long-swept dust, because Spike’s a vampire, like Jesse was, and just seconds before Xander killed him, Jesse had placed cool hands against his fly, and he wants that again. “You hands are nice,” he replies after a while. “I’m just saying.” Spike snorts. “What the hell is your problem, Harris?” he asks with a sneer. “Are you drunk?” “Do you want me?” is Xander’s answer, let out before he could think the situation through. “I mean, really want me. Like, in a sex way.” Spike gapes at him, and Xander’s a little proud that he’s finally struck Spike speechless. “Well?” “You are drunk.” Not speechless for long. “All right, Harris, off to bed with you. I’m tied as tight as can be. So get away from me before I forget that this chip is in my head, and I bite you on principle.” Xander grins darkly. “C’mon, Spike. I’m sure you’re sick of this chair. Why not whore yourself out for a night on a comfy bed?” He runs a hand down Spike’s face, then grabs his chin roughly. He’s not in the mood for soft and sweet right now. He wants someone to hurt, like he hurt every time he thought of Jesse’s face. “I’ll bet you were Angel’s favourite plaything ever, huh Spike? With your pretty face and come fuck me eyes?” “You know it,” Spike ground out. “He fucked me like there was no heaven and hell. Like there was nothing but his dick in my ass. And you can’t begin to compare, child, so go to bed and dream some naughty dream of the Slayer going down on your little demon girl, and leave me be.” Xander laughs cruelly. “Please,” he said with a smirk. “You know nothing about me.” Suddenly, he wrapped his hand around the bulge in Spike’s jeans. Just like he’d thought; the vampire was hard. “Did you know that the first relationship I had was with a guy? Probably not, no one does. But I had his ass,” he winces internally at referring to Jesse so crudely, but its all part of the game, “and now I want yours. So here’s the deal. You let me fuck you, and I’ll let you sleep on the bed. Okay?” Spike glares at him. “You’re a sad person, Harris. Trying to bring back your little boy through me.” He smirked. “But he must have been a sweet piece to make you want him still.” Xander punched Spike’s face, hard. “You don’t get to talk about him,” he hissed. “You just get to shut the fuck up and give it up to me. Got it?” Spike shrugs negligently. “Do as you like,” he said lazily. “I’m bored, anyway.” So Xander unties Spike. “Strip,” he says shortly as he pulls his shirt over his head. “And get on the bed.” “I feel like such a soiled dove,” Spike says with a huge sigh as he removes his clothes. Oh, he is a pretty boy, all those muscles under that pale skin, and so slender. If he was just a little darker, and his hair was brown, Xander could have seen Jesse in every inch of the vampire’s body. Spike stands for a minute, letting Xander stare, before crawling onto the bed and lying back against the pillows. Soon enough, Xander’s clothes are gone as well. He gets on the bed. “I don’t want to see your face, and I don’t want to hear your fucking accent,” Xander says as he shoves at Spike. “So roll the hell over, and shut up. Got it?” Spike rolls his eyes but does as Xander asks, even pushing himself up on his knees and burying his head in the mattress. Someone’s trained Spike how to be a good bottom, and Xander’s about to benefit from it. He looks at Spike’s tiny exposed hole. It’s so small; if he were really Jesse, Xander would use some lube to make this easier, but this isn’t really Jesse, because Jesse’s really dead, and this is just a fuck, with a guy he kinda hates, so without any warning he slams himself into Spike. He’s amazed as he meets no resistance. Spike’s pretty well used; Xander figures Spike’s kinda latent, and takes it up the ass whenever he can. He begins thrusting rapidly, gripping Spike’s hips hard. No, not Spike, this is Jesse, they’re together again, and everything’s fine, Jesse never left him. So he takes one hand and wraps it around Jesse’s cock, stroking it just the way he likes, a little rough, as he continues to ride him. It’s been so long… so goddamn long, and he’s not sure he can last, especially now that Jesse’s pushing back against him, fucking back on him as Xander continues to stroke his cock. Then Jesse starts moaning, and Xander knows he’s close, so he speeds up a little, and wraps his finger a little more tightly around Jesse. Jesse comes with a scream and Xander follows him over, calling his name. ~~~~~~ “So, who’s Jesse?” Spike asks later, after Xander’s rolled off him and agreed to let him have one post-coital cigarette. “Is he your boy?” “I though I said you weren’t allowed to talk about him,” Xander growled, the effect lost because he’s obviously incapable of moving. “Just making small talk,” Spike says with a shrug. “I really don’t care either way. You just don’t strike me as the ‘thanks for the fuck, gotta run’ kinda guy.” He lights another cigarette, and Xander briefly considers giving him hell for it, but he doesn’t have the energy just now. “Yeah, Jesse’s him. Or something like that… I can’t think right now.” Xander sighs deeply. “We never told anyone; we were worried about what everybody would say. We were going to wait until we were older. Then… then he died.” “So I’m the first that gets to hear of your grand passion?” Spike asked, and Xander doesn’t hear the slightest note of mockery in the vampire’s voice. It’s little moments like this that remind Xander of Jesse. “Yeah, I guess. If you want.” He tries to shrug it off; no big deal and all. It’s not like Spike’s a person. Not like he can actually care about anyone else. But it’s been years, and Xander wants to tell someone the story, and why not Spike, whom no one would listen to, anyway? Besides, it’s kinda nice to know that the story of Jesse and Xander will live on forever, or at least until Spike pisses off someone enough to get killed. “It’s like this.” Xander settles down on the bed and reaches for Spike’s cigarettes. “I never would have told anyone, but sometimes I used to dream about him,” he begins, and as Xander somehow smokes his way through a pack of cigarettes and tells the story of jessexander to a vampire who shouldn’t give a fuck about anyone, but for some reason does, his heart starts to heal.   ~~FIN~~ Go To A Sorta Fairytale - The Venial Sins Interlude Other Standalones Choose a Different Series 21 March 2004