Title: That Thing You Do (1/1) Author: Meredian Email: mere_dythe@hotmail.com Disclaimer: The characters belong to Joss, yadda. I don’t want to make money, just play with them a bit. The title and lyrics of this piece belong to A. Schlesinger. Summary: Xander has had a bad day. Set in the BSINBABL ‘verse. Rating: PG, some very minor language Notes: For Chelle, ‘cuz of her flaming issues. Just a little fic. Feedback is always loved. ------------------------------- "And if I know you you’re doing that thing you do." -The WondersThe door to the apartment was flung open, bouncing with a bang off of the wall, then slamming closed. Xander walked through as it was arcing, a scowl on his handsome features. Flicking the light switch on with one finger, he stormed into the living room. He then tossed his bookbag with abandon onto the couch, not even turning his head as it dropped to the floor. Walking stiffly, his eyes unhappy, he went into the kitchen, the refrigerator his goal. Opening the glossy black freezer door, he rummaged impatiently inside of the cold compartment.
Muttering under his breath, Xander hunted, growing frustrated when he couldn’t find what he wanted. "I know it’s in here, damn it…"
"A-ha!" His hands finding purchase, he pulled out of the freezer, a wisp of his breath floating frozen on the air. In his hands was a pint-and-a-half of Portifino Chocolate Passione ice cream.
"Mmm… chocolatey goodness…."
Grabbing a spoon, he plopped down at the table. As the spoon plunged into the swirls of chocolate fudge and truffle, he hunched over the table, eating morosely. His usual happy chocolate smile was nowhere to be seen, his dark eyes pulled down with unhappiness. He shoveled more and more ice cream into his mouth, not noticing the cold headache that continually threatened to take him and lash out. His lips stained with chocolate, his jaws mechanically chewing and swallowing, he was like a sullen eating machine.
Suddenly, there was a yawn from the bedroom. From the shadows of the back of the apartment, a tall, pale figure emerged. Rubbing his eyes, Angelus stumbled blindly into the kitchen, pulling out coffee grounds and a bag of refrigerated blood. As he put the coffee pot on, he saw Xander. Pulling at his white tank top, Angelus woke up fully, concern lighting up his black eyes.
"Xand? What is it, love? Are you okay?" Seeing the tense muscles bunched up in his lover’s neck, Angelus slid his hands onto the boy’s shoulders, beginning to rub. As he slid his hands around, moving his fingers around in small circles, pressing the pads of his tips into Xander’s flesh, he heard his lover let out a small moan of relaxation.
"I just had a really bad day…" Xander’s voice choked up, his eyes welling with tears. For some reason he didn’t feel the urge to cover up his pain around Angelus. He just wanted to let it out. And the soothing rubbing going on around his shoulders was already helping.
Leaning over, kissing his lover’s cheek softly, Angelus continued to rub. Finding a particularly hard knot in Xander’s back, he rubbed his thumbs into it, slowly working the clenched muscle back into softness. "Go ahead and tell me, Xand…"
So Xander told Angelus of his bad day, how the professor had singled him out with a tough question, and then, when he hadn’t known the answer, mocked him. How Cordelia had been particularly bitchy to him, ragging on him for a good hour and a half. How he had twisted his ankle walking to philosophy, thereby being late, and mocked… again. The hurt resignation made Angelus curse the people who had put his lover in this mood under his breath.
Xander leaned his head back, his eyes softening, his mouth curving into a half smile. As he looked at his lover, he whispered, "Thanks, Dead-Boy… I am feeling much better…" His smile broadened into a grin.
"Wanna watch some cartoons?"