Xander was a man. Xander was a man who wanted. But what he wanted was unthinkable. What he wanted was everything he had fought against.
Xander had been fighting against his desire for over two years. Two years of waking up aching, with a hole in his heart and mind. His instincts clamoring against the dictates of his mind. He had immersed himself in other relationships. First with Anya, all the way up to the disastrous wedding, to his recent relationship disaster with Andrew - and hadn’t his bisexuality been a shock to the Scooby gang. Willow, surprisingly, hadn’t taken it well.
Which was odd - but living on the Hellmouth, what was one more oddity? Buffy and Dawn had been surprisingly supportive, and Giles, well Giles, had given him a stiff, meaningful, clasp on the arm and promised to support him. Spike didn’t say anything at all. Nothing. And that hurt, it hurt so badly.
That day the girls had discovered him having sex with Andrew when they used his emergency key to surprise him for his birthday, it was the end of that relationship. Andrew, poor little Andrew, dumped him. Said it was no fun anymore now that everyone knew. Had slept with him completely for the thrill of being his secret, gay, companion.
Xander hadn’t expected real love - but he was tired of being a novelty. Tired of being someone’s sex toy. When would he be able to have a real relationship with someone who wanted him for him? Surely that wouldn’t happen with Spike. Of course, he knew it. But couldn’t a man hope?
But when had hope ever worked for him.
He had hoped one day he would waken up and be loved by his parents. Parents - too kind a word to describe them. Drunk day after day. Complaining about his ungrateful ass. Even his duty calls were rejected. If he was dead on the street, he was sure they’d hop over his body to get to the nearest liquor store.
Then came Willow. Friends forever, right? No, ever since Jesse died and Buffy came into their lives. He was slowly edged out. First by the magic, go magical Willow. Then the thing with Oz. College. Now he had somehow committed a sin by liking guys. Ironic, much? But their camaraderie and love had been strained to the max before this revelation.
When did I become so unimportant? Wasn’t I loyal enough? Didn’t I love enough? Xander’s mind raced frantically.
Xander looked around his small apartment. There was the black couch that Spike loved to complain about as he watched Xander’s TV and drank his beer. On the windows, were the blackout curtains he’d gotten to protect Spike when he occasionally hid out at Xander’s apartment. There on the carpet next to the kitchen was the blood stains that wouldn’t come out when Spike had spilled his mug of blood as he frantically gestured at the TV during a tense moment on Passions.
Disclaimer: I own nothing - I am merely borrowing characters/ideas from Buffy and Anita Blake universes. Thanks! Hope you enjoy the story.