Ficlet: "Cold Comfort" (Xander/Giles) - FRAO (?)

[sappho-wilde.livejournal.com]

With a nod to others who have used this forum to write serial stories, I thought I'd like to try one of my own. Overall it's a subtle sort of AU, and while this first installment is pre-slash, it will soon become Xander/Giles. I got the idea while watching "Blind Date" again, and wondering "what if"...

No title yet for the serial (suggestions would be welcome).



Xander didn’t like coffee.

He knew developing the taste was one of those mystical rites of adulthood, but no matter how much sugar he added it always tasted nasty. Bitter. He’d learned to smile and say “no, thanks, caffeine makes me jittery” when offered a cup. People understood that excuse. Xander tended to come across as ready to jump out of his skin anyway, no chemical enhancements needed.

All the same, sometimes he’d sit in his kitchen, munching toast smeared with grape jelly and stare at the almost-untouched coffeemaker on his counter. A present, a birthday joke.

From Anya.

Remembering her still made his stomach twist with guilty pains.

It’d been the worst thing ever on an impressive list of lifetime hurts to walk away from his bride-to-be, all dressed up in cloudy white. If he closed his eyes he could still see her confusion melting into heartbreak.

Why hadn’t he been able to make it work? He’d lied to himself, his friends, his family, all his life. Why couldn’t he have kept on going? Anya was something special, and he’d have had a good life at her side.

Thing was… he’d been knotting his tie when it sank in: he’d be going on his honeymoon that night. Honeymoon, as in iced champagne, hot tubs for two, silky lingerie, and making good on his promise that once legally married, there could be sex.

He’d found himself wondering if Anya would be able to tell he was a virgin. She could be sharp as broken glass sometimes, but didn’t have a clue when it came to figuring out men’s lies.

Xander had tried to love Anya. Tried to want her. Lay in his bed at night and stroked his cock, trying to make it rise at the thought of her breasts, waist, and legs. Her sweet smile and silky hair. Nothing ever worked. Unless he was really desperate he’d end up rolling over with a sigh and going to sleep vaguely dissatisfied.

No… he’d known what he wanted to dream about. He just hadn’t been able to let himself go. Too scared to admit the truth. What he knew about himself, deep down. What he didn’t want the world to know.

It was like coffee. People expected you to grow up and get a boner for java.

He’d discovered he had different tastes.

He knew he’d have to face reality soon. He’d been dreaming way too much, the longings infecting his thoughts. Visions of long, lean bodies, angled jaws, and broad hands. The imagined hardness of another erection bumping his during a slow, sexy dance. All making him so desperate for release he’d grab his cock and jack off until he orgasmed in a wash of shame and ecstasy.

Maybe someday he’d find someone. A friend who’d just let him talk it out. Someone he could trust with his secret.

Until then, he’d guiltily pray to find comfort in dreams, hope he didn’t accidentally fall out of the closet, and… and drink cocoa if he felt like it.



Crossposted to gilesxander and to demasduitdream.

Comments

[stretfordditto.livejournal.com]

Coffee always tastes like mud to me, I still drink it though. :) Excellent drabble.

[sappho-wilde.livejournal.com]

Well, it's okay if you add enough sugar and cream to turn it into, er, a milkshake... *wink* Which is where Starbucks has made its millions, I think! But yep, gotta have some kind of caffeine blast sometimes. Thanks so much for the feedback!