Bathroom Confessions
Learning to Love
Circa 2003
Cowritten with Michelle. To Bonster, the Xandrew queen.
* * *
Xander sat on the bed and watched as Anya grabbed her
clothes and dressed. He rubbed his eyes and stood up, quickly pulling on his
boxers.
Anya smiled shyly at him and shrugged. "I'll go
upstairs and . . .see if the others are back yet." She danced on her feet,
feeling a bit awkward.
Xander nodded and dressed in turn, watching with a sad
look on his face as Anya went up the stairs and disappeared. Out of his heart.
*****
Andrew watched as the red recording light of the camera
flickered off, feeling the last of his hope fade as well. It had started as a
grand adventure, a way to be important to the cause. He would record the
Slayer's glorious fight with the first and ultimate evil. It had ended in harsh
truth. His actions had helped to bring that ultimate evil forth and he would
die because of it.
He didn't want to die.
Andrew didn't notice the tears streaming down his face
until they hit his hand, which was still lying in his lap. He raised his hand
and looked at the droplets of water on his skin. It seemed so little to give
Jonathan in return for taking his life, a few specks of saline. It seemed so
little to give himself. He began to cry harder, not finding it within himself
to stop.
*****
Xander sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He looked
around the basement, making sure there was no evidence of what they'd just
done. The room was clean, and so was his heart. All the longing and jealousy
and hurt he'd felt for a whole year was just gone. One last time, and he was
finally free.
Before he could wallow in everything that being free of
Anya meant, he pushed the thoughts away and went up the stairs. He needed a
shower. Desperately.
Xander could hear some of the girls talking in the
kitchen, but he didn't feel like seeing them. Something major had just happened
in his life, but he couldn't share it yet. Mostly because he wasn't really sure
what it meant.
Why was he feeling so light headed? Shouldn't he be
moping over what he'd lost? Somewhere in the back of his mind, a little voice
rose and told him that he had been moping for the last year and that now was
probably the best time to stop, because he could never get back what he'd lost.
Not that he really wanted it back now.
Xander arrived in front of the bathroom and found it
closed and locked. What else was new? He gently
knocked on the door and waited. Maybe whoever was in there was almost done.
Andrew jumped at the knock on the door, almost falling
off of the toilet.
"J-just a minute," he stammered, trying to
find his balance again.
Xander sighed. Andrew. Great. "Are you almost done
in there?"
Andrew's heart beat a little faster when he realized
Xander was on the other side of the door. He quickly scrubbed at his face to
try to erase any evidence of tears.
"Y-yeah. Just give me a sec."
He wanted to look in the mirror and check to make sure
there was no trace of his crying fit, but he
didn't think Xander wanted to be kept waiting long. Quickly, he grabbed his
camera, stood up, and opened the door.
"It's all yours," he said, adding a little
flourish with his arm.
He tried his best to keep his eyes on the carpet, but
they inched up to look at Xander. Andrew’s breathing picked up a little, and he wasn’t sure if it was
because of the other man’s presence or the beginnings of an asthma attack
Xander frowned as he watched Andrew's obviously nervous
form. "Hey, are you all right?" he asked, just as he realized the
other man's eyes were red and swollen.
Xander couldn't think of a reason why Andrew would be
crying now... or maybe he could think of a hundred of them, but he couldn't
understand why he was moved by the thought of the other man crying to the point
that he actually wanted to pull Andrew into a hug and make it better.
"Wanna talk about it?" he asked instead.
Andrew's eyes flew up to Xander's. He couldn't believe
what he had just heard. Xander Harris was offering to listen to him? It was too
good to be true, so good, and he opened his mouth to start talking.
It was then that the horrible truth living in his gut
reached into his brain. Nobody wanted to listen to him. He was a murderer. He
was the pest. Xander was just being nice, but he didn't really want to hear
about what was going on in Andrew's head. The brief flash of joy died sharply
and painfully.
"I - I'm fine," he mumbled, rubbing at his
face with his free hand. "I'll just leave you to your . . . whatever it is
you're doing."
Xander walked forward, but didn't move to let Andrew get
out of the bathroom. Instead he closed the door being himself.
"Look, I'm not gonna push you away or anything. If
you want to talk about it, then go on, I'll listen." Xander tried to smile
reassuringly, but found he couldn't. There was so much at stake now, they
couldn't afford to have one of them break down like this.
Even if it was only Andrew.
Andrew looked at the closed bathroom door and felt panic
grip his heart. Then he looked at Xander and the panic calmed. The brunette man
looked . . . concerned. The only other person who had ever looked at him that
way was Jonathan. Jolted by the thought of his dead friend, Andrew lost what
little composure he had and crumpled, falling to the floor while more tears
burst forth.
"I killed him," Andrew sobbed. "I killed
him, and now I'm going to die."
Xander looked bewildered for a moment. Ok, what to do
with a sobbing young man that was feeling guilty about killing his best friend
and was scared about dying? Xander asked himself. He fidgeted on his feet for a
few moments before rolling his eyes and sitting down beside Andrew on the
floor.
"It's ok, just let it out," he said awkwardly,
as he tried to decide whether or not he should lay his hand on Andrew's back.
He had never felt so helpless in his life. Ok, once,
when Buffy had died the second time and he hadn't been able to do anything...
oh, and when Adam tried to tear the Scooby Gang apart, but this was different.
This was a man he knew next to nothing about that was crying on the floor of
Buffy's bathroom, and surprisingly, Xander cared.
"No!" Andrew cried. "It's not okay. He didn't
deserve to die, not the way I killed him. He deserves to be here, not some -
some loser who's just going to die." He sniffed once, rubbed a hand under
his nose, and quieted a little. He couldn't stop the body-racking sobs, and he didn't
try. "I deserve to be dead."
Xander felt at a loss. What the hell could he do?
Without thinking, he wrapped an arm around Andrew's shoulder and brought him
closer. "I really don't know what to say Andrew, I really don't. But I
don't think you deserve to be dead."
The warm arm around Andrew felt good, as did the warm
body against his. Xander was solid and real amidst the chaos of his thoughts
and feelings. Then Xander's words cut through the fog in his mind.
"You - you don't?" he asked, looking up at
Xander.
Xander shook his head. "No, I
don't." He didn't know what else he could say to help the other man, so
instead he tightened his grip. He sighed and closed his eyes as he thought of
his own problems. How was he suppose to react to what had happened with Anya?
He felt completely helpless. He couldn't help himself, he couldn't help Andrew
- how the hell was he suppose to help save the world?
The hole inside Andrew grew a little smaller at the
other man's words. Xander didn't think he deserved to die, and Xander was the
Slayer's heart. If he thought Andrew deserved to live, then it must be the
truth. He snuggled a little deeper into Xander's embrace.
"Why?" Andrew went utterly still as soon as
the words left his mouth. He couldn't believe he had just asked that. "You
don't have to answer that. We can just . . . forget I said anything,
okay?"
Xander smiled sadly as Andrew's words
pulled him out of his haze. "I don't really know why," he answered
honestly. "The only thing I know is that I really don't think you deserve
to die. Actually, I'm pretty glad you're not dead."
Xander bit his lip as he realized what
he'd just said. He couldn't really have meant that, could he? But he knew it
was true, he really didn't want Andrew to die.
Andrew perked up considerably and drew partially away
from Xander. "Really? That . . . that means a lot. And I'm glad you're not
dead. Not that you're going to be dead or anything, but I'm glad you're
here."
He stopped himself, realizing he was slipping into his
old habit of babbling on and on. That was the old him, and he had to get rid of
that him. The new Andrew wasn't going to be so clueless.
Suddenly, Andrew had a thought.
"Does the new, deserving-to-live me need to give up
science fiction? I mean, there are more important things to be focused on, such
as saving the world, but do I have to give up everything? Like, can I keep my
comic book collection?"
Xander turned to him swiftly. "You have a comic
book collection?" He slapped himself. "Of course you do. Can I see? I
mean, you probably have some that I don't have and maybe we could exchange
them, you know."
He stopped as he realized he'd slipped into dork mode,
yet again. Being around Andrew seemed to do that to him a lot. "And you
know, you really don't have to give them up, except if you want to, and if you
do, then please consider giving them to me instead of throwing them or
something," Xander added.
He blushed and bit his lip, looking down.
Andrew's eyes grew very wide. "You like comics?
'Cause I know there was that one time with the new League of Extraordinary
Gentlemen, but that could have just been a passing liking." Again, he
stopped and berated himself for going off like he did. He had to try to be
mature. "Well, of course you may see them," he continued, somewhat
stiffly.
He paused a moment before continuing. "I'm glad I
can keep them. And that you like them. It's nice, you know? Not being alone
like that."
He looked down at the camera still in his hands, then
looked at Xander out of the corner of his eye. The other man hadn't let go, and
Andrew let himself bask in that.
Xander nodded as he blushed lightly. "Yeah, I like
comics and I can totally understand how it feels. Not being alone, I mean.
‘Cause I feel the same now."
He smiled down at Andrew and in doing so, noticed the
camera still in the other man's hands. The comments Andrew had made earlier
that day about Xander being the heart of the Slayer machine suddenly resurfaced
in Xander's mind and he sighed silently.
"You really meant it when you said I was the
heart?" He asked, almost whispering.
"Of course!" Andrew said,
somewhat offended that Xander had to ask. He jerked his head up to confront
Xander, and found their faces a scant inch or so apart. "You're the heart
Xander. Without you, all of what's going on wouldn't be, you know, going
on."
Xander frowned at that. "Huh, I'm not
sure I'm following, because that means there would be no apocalypses to prevent
or monsters to get rid of. Wouldn't that be a good thing?"
He was feeling uncomfortable with Andrew
being so close to him, but he didn't want to push him away, either.
Andrew made a sound of annoyance,
momentarily distracted from how close Xander was. "That's not what I mean.
Without you, the monsters and apocalypses and stuff would have happened.
Without you, Buffy wouldn't be able to continue her fight."
Xander grinned goofily. "Thank you.
It makes me feel less like I'm out of place, you know? I always felt like I
didn't really belong with all of them, but they're my best friends, so I had to
stick with them and help them, no matter how helpless and stupid I am most of
the time."
"You are not stupid," Andrew
said forcefully. "You're brave and strong and smart and talented and . . .
did I mention brave?" His words slowly dropped off as he realized that
wonderful grin of Xander's was so close to his own mouth. Andrew wanted to, oh
he wanted to, but there was no way Xander would want it, he'd never want it . .
.
Xander grinned even more and bit his lip as he realized
just how close Andrew's mouth was now. Maybe he could, no, he couldn't.
He maybe he could, seeing as his lips were dangerously
approaching their goal. Any second now . . .
. . . And Xander was kissing Andrew. Oh, it wasn't a big
kiss, just the light touch of lips on lips, not moving.
And Andrew couldn't believe it. His lips were on
Xander's lips. They were kissing, lightly and barely, but still kissing. And it
felt good and right and sweet and everything he had dreamed a kiss should be.
If nothing else happened, he was glad
Xander had been his first kiss.
Xander pulled back, panicked. "I'm sorry, I
shouldn't... I'll just..." He took his arm away from Andrew. Fuck, I'm not
gay, he thought, as he made a move to get up.
"No!" Andrew squeaked. He
cleared his throat, and managed to sound a little more controlled. "No,
it's okay. It was . . . nice."
He looked away, wondering if he could
somehow fit himself in the linen closet until the end of the world.
Xander looked back at Andrew and sighed.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not... look, I don't want to hurt you, because
obviously, you've been hurt a lot but I'm not... what I mean is... fuck, I've
never kissed a man before, Andrew." There, I said it, he thought as a deep
blush covered his cheeks.
Andrew turned back to Xander, confusion
wrinkling his forehead. Why did Xander sound so uncertain? "Well, it was
my first kiss, so I guess we both experienced something new." He smiled
hesitantly, trying to reassure Xander. He may have been a loser, but he'd be
damned if Xander was going to feel he was one.
Xander's eyes widened in surprise. "It was your
first...? I was your first...? Oh." He moved closer to Andrew and put his
arm back around the other man's small form. "Well," Xander licked his
lips. "Would it scare you if I said I'd want to do it again?"
"N-no." Andrew licked his lips
nervously. "In fact, I'd like that very much."
Xander gently cupped Andrew face with his free hand and
brought the other man closer, all the while thinking that Andrew had never
seemed as adorable as he did at that moment. Not that Xander had ever thought
of Andrew as adorable before. Never.
Just as their lips were about to touch for a second
time, a knock shook the door they were leaning against.
"Will you hurry up in there? Some of
us have to pee."
Xander jerked away and cursed.
"Damnit." He looked at Andrew ruefully. "Maybe we should... go
elsewhere. The bathroom's not the best place to have privacy."
"Yeah, don't I know it." Andrew smiled, and it
was a real smile. Probably the first since the night he arrived back in
Sunnydale.
The two men stood up and Xander opened the door. They
then walked out of the bathroom and past the potential that stood there with
her hands on her hips. She watched them go, before exhaling loudly and walking
into the bathroom.
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