: And Now He's Got a Man! Author
: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
, Season Three, AUPairing
: Language; m/m slash, which really shouldn't be a warning, given the stated pairing, but...Distribution
: Please ask first. Please do not screencap this story, save it to hard drives, exchange with others, or translate into other languages without written consent.Feedback
: Con-crit is always welcome; flames are ridiculed and put on display.Disclaimer
: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, lyrics, etc. are the property of their respective owners. Snippets of dialogue may be incorporated from the original canonical episode(s) and belong to their respective authors/creators. The original characters and plot are the property of the author(s). The author(s) is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended, nor should any be inferred. No profit is being made.Summary
: Xander likes to watch Percy. Percy likes being watched, especially by Xander. So he's going to do something about it.Author's Note
: Don't remember Percy West? Well, to be fair, he was
a minor character. Still, he's played by mega-hot piece Ethan Erickson, and since I slash our fair Xan with just about every available male character, why not Percy? Honestly, it makes no sense, but they're like my OTP of Never Gonna Happen. So I'll make it happen! If you want a visual aid, here's
some Percy for ya. You can thank me later. ;)* * * * *
Xander knew he was in trouble the moment he saw Percy West detour from the lacrosse team, which traveled the halls of the high school like a pack of wild boars. The other boys, rudderless without their de facto leader, quickly dispersed, some heading for classes or lockers, others harassing girls or the underclassmen.
He quickly began pulling books from his own locker, not hearing Willow when she explained he was removing texts for classes he had finished earlier in the day. Buffy was rambling about her latest Angel crisis, and while he tried to muster some sense of sympathy or concern, he really couldn’t be bothered, and so let Willow handle the reassurances and hugs.
Xander breathed through his nose, his face staring into the gaping maw of his locker, its blackness suddenly infinite, like a hole in the universe. He prayed for it to swallow him whole and transport him to a distant land where humiliation was illegal and embarrassment was nonexistent.
“What do you want?,” Buffy demanded.
“Need to talk to Harris.”
“About what?,” barked a suspicious Willow.
Percy’s eyes grew cold as he focused them on her. “Well, Rosenberg, I have this scaly patch on my dick, you see, and I thought maybe…”
“Gotta go!,” Buffy suddenly announced, dragging a protesting Willow with her.
Xander was unsurprised at being abandoned.
“Looks like it’s just the two of us," Percy leered. "Cozy.”
Xander sighed and turned around, his eyes blank and his mouth set in a bored grimace. “What do you really want, West?”
Percy grinned. “Yeah, I guess my excuse was pretty thin. After all, you know there’s nothing on my dick. Nothing but your lips.” He cocked his head. “Or they soon will be.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you better keep it down,” Xander sneered. “What would your friends say?”
Percy took another step closer. “I don’t give a fuck. I saw you watching me in the locker room.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeated. Xander made sure to keep his voice steady and even. He would deny everything. Sure he had looked, but so what? Nothing could be proven, and any rumor West might start had been circulating for years. No one cared.
Percy frowned. This wasn’t working out as he had planned. He had fully expected Harris to cave and surrender to the glory of his cock, but the kid wasn’t playing ball. And now he was wondering if he had completely misjudged the situation. Maybe Harris had been looking at someone else, or maybe it had been nothing more than a glance in his direction out of boredom; either option would prove to be really fucking embarrassing.
But Harris was hot and he wanted a piece, so he had to make sure. He leaned his head in.
“I know you were watching me, Xander,” he breathed, the name sounding foreign on his tongue. They’d known each other for fifteen years, and he couldn’t remember ever calling Harris by his first name. Weird. “I liked it.”
Xander knew he had to play this carefully, even as blood pooled into his crotch, as the scent of Percy’s cologne drifted toward him like a welcoming embrace, the blue eyes of the other boy dilated as Xander knew his own were. If Percy could be this brazen, this unafraid of speaking openly of such matters, then he knew he could show no fear, no trace of cowardice or shame. And even if he admitted to watching, there was nothing Percy could do. He fought demons on a nightly basis, and while he usually lost, he was more than a match for a hotheaded lacrosse jock who thought he was god’s gift.
“You like being watched.”
“Yeah,” Percy smiled, smugly, “and I like it when you’re the one doing the watching.” He leaned in impossibly closer, his mouth against Xander’s ear. “I like watching you, too.”
“Good to know.”
Percy pulled back, his brow furrowed. “What?”
“I was watching you. I liked it. You were watching me, and you liked what you saw. I liked you watching.” He paused. “Is that everything? Can I go now?”
“What the fuck?” Two spots of pink highlighted Percy’s cheeks as if placed by a Precious Moments artist.
Xander shrugged a shoulder. “So now we both know. How exciting. What are you going to do about it?”
The response was the most filthy smirk ever to grace the face of a teenage boy. Percy shoved his hands in his pockets and strolled away, whistling.
Xander stood there, breathing heavily, trying to dislodge the knot in his throat, one rivaled only by that in his stomach.
He couldn’t believe he had just said those words, had behaved in that manner. But the thrill of confession, of acknowledgment and reciprocation, coursed through him like bottled lightning. Every nerve was on fire, every secret hope and wish pushed to the forefront of his mind. He was playing a dangerous game, he knew, but was helpless to stop himself. In truth, he didn’t want to stop.
He shook his head and slammed shut his locker before hauling his bag over a shoulder. Before he could think better of it, he turned in the direction in which Percy had disappeared, only to see him lounging against a row of lockers, staring back at him, the smirk displaced by a look of quiet contemplation. Percy nodded at him, a gesture he returned before turning on his heel and heading off for Trig. Even if nothing came of it, he told himself, at least he had been honest about who he was and what he wanted, if only for a moment.
Yet there was the dawning sense he had started something he had no idea how to finish.