The rain was beating a staccato rhythm against the large window in the living room and Xander stood there, his hands shoved into the pockets of his low-slung jeans. The gray clouds and blanket of water outside lent a dreary glow to the afternoon as he looked out at some point past the obscured horizon. There was a deep ache, a loneliness in his soul that seemed to build with each drop that hit the glass. He dug his toes into the plush carpet and lifted one hand to run through his rumpled hair. He exhaled deeply, trying to relieve some of the tension building in him.
It was October, and the temperatures had started to drop, bringing the occasional rains of winter. When he was a kid, he had hated when it rained. Rainy days meant days locked inside the house, unable to go out and play or run in the park with Jesse. Rainy days meant his mother had one more thing to yell about, when he tracked water and mud onto the kitchen floor.
As much as he hated the rain, he loved the time after. Everything was so shiny and fresh and new. The roads had that smooth, rich smell of wet asphalt and little puddles that he could jump in with both feet, reveling in his freedom, as the sun peeked through the clouds.
Work had been cancelled today. The site was closed because of the rain and the schedule comfortable enough that he gave the crew the day off. He didn't begrudge them that, but his body hummed with excess energy and a buzzing in his brain that he didn't want to face head-on.
He didn't hate the rain anymore. That was part of his problem. He wanted to go outside and let it bathe him, baptize him, wash him clean of his sins. He wanted the cold sensuality of the heavy drops to wash over his eyelids, his lips, and carry away his memories, or let him drown in them.
Xander lurched away from the windows and went to the kitchen. An electrical charge was running all through him, as if his spine was a lightening rod for the storm overhead. It was an aching, burning, languid, sensual need that melted through his limbs like water.
His fingertips ran absently over his lips, a soft, absent-minded caress. He drifted off in a haze of wanting to touch, to be touched. His legs were rocking together, his hands on his bare stomach and it wasn't even about sex. Just need.
He pulled a beer out of the fridge and twisted off the cap, tossing it toward the sink. Hungry. He felt reduced to those primal urges, so simple and basic. Hungry. Horny. Is this what slayers felt like after a good kill?
He pulled open the freezer, and looked into its hazy depths. The cold door brushed against his chest as he reached in to grab a frozen pizza and the cold sensation is so close to heaven, to the rain, that he moaned. He felt so desperate for sensation that he considered just standing there and letting the cool, moist air caress him like a lover.
Xander threw the pizza onto the counter, frustrated, and drank deeply from his beer. His free hand is still tracing lazy trails over his body. He let his other hand fall and the beer bottle came down to rest against the strained zipper of his jeans. Xander felt himself arch into the cold caress and he was back there again, right where he didn't want to be, where he never wanted to leave, and Riley's hand was grasping him through wet denim.
/// It had been raining that day, which was kind of funny, because it never rained in the summer, not really, and they had been caught out in a surprise summer storm. They had stumbled into Riley's apartment, laughing as they pulled at the soaked t's plastered to their chests. Xander was pushing his dripping hair out of his eyes, when the air seemed to light up with an electric charge. Riley reached for him and was cupping the erection that Xander hadn't realized he had. He froze a bit and looked into the storm mirrored in Riley's eyes, stunned and a bit unsure.
They had been intimate before, but this felt different - better, closer, deeper. They hadn't even started, yet they were already winding toward an inevitable conclusion. This wasn't about friends seeking comfort with each other, but lovers seeking a connection.
Xander leaned in and wrapped one hand in Riley's hair, the other on his ass and pulled him flush against him. Then he lightly licked the corner of Riley's mouth, catching a stray raindrop hat had trailed its way down the hard planes of his face. They were kissing, hard and deep, searching, finding, giving, taking, and losing themselves in passion. ///
Xander lay down on his bed, and opened his jeans, losing himself in the memories of that wet summer day when he and Riley had become lovers. He pulled his hard cock free from his jeans and ran the cold beer bottle along its length, letting the condensation pool at his groin. His hips bucked up into the touch, much as they had when Riley had first slipped him into his mouth.
/// Hot and cold. Fire and ice. Xander trembled as Riley began to suck at his length with his warm mouth, while playing with his balls with his still cool hands. Xander knew that this wouldn't stop at a touch, a taste, like it had before. There would be no more fooling himself when he left here today that Riley and he weren't lovers and that he wasn't cheating on Anya with the beautiful man buried between his thighs. He reached for Riley, knowing that it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.
They divested themselves of the rest of their clothes and touched each other everywhere. Xander kissed and licked and nipped at every inch of Riley's skin that he could reach, while Riley did the same to him. They rolled and tumbled, tangled in each other, not wanting to lose contact for a moment. Xander found himself lying on top of Riley, the other man's thighs wrapped around his hips and their dicks touching, rubbing together. He reached between them and took them both into his hand as best he could and stroked their lengths together, while he looked down into Riley's eyes.
They were both breathing heavily, almost panting. Xander saw an answering need, a pleading in Riley's eyes, as Riley reached out toward the bedside table and pulled at the drawer. Xander swallowed and nodded, twisting to open the drawer. Inside were a box of condoms and a bottle of vanilla scented lube. Both were new, and Xander knew without being told that they had been purchased for this, for them.
He tore open the box of condoms and handed two to Riley, letting him decide, to make the choice of how this would go between them. Riley put one down on the table and tore the other open with his teeth. He reached for Xander, and stroked him up and down before placing the rubber against the head of Xander's cock and smoothing it down into place. Xander arched into the caress and dug his toes into the sheets, trying to hold on as the pleasure and honor Riley was giving him rocked his soul.
He reached for the bottle of lube and then leaned in to kiss Riley deeply, telling him everything without words. He squeezed some of the lube onto his fingers and reached under Riley to rub the moist slickness into his tight opening. Riley moaned into Xander's mouth and started to relax. Xander squeezed out more of the lube and used it to ease a finger into Riley's ass. Riley tightened around him and arched up, his cock pushing against Xander's. When Riley eased down again, Xander twisted his finger, lubricating the tight passage and hitting against Riley's prostate. Xander pushed a second lubed finger, then a third into the tight hole, going slowly, letting the other man's pleasure guide him.
Just when Xander didn't think either of them could wait any longer, Riley took the bottle of lube from Xander's fist and spread some up and down over Xander's length. Xander slid his fingers out and pulled Riley's legs up and back, leaning in and positioning the head of his cock against Riley's ass. He looked down into the other man's eyes and slowly pushed inside him. He cried out when he first felt the tight ring of muscle clamp down just behind the head of his cock.
Riley reached for him, pulling him back down into another bruising kiss. As his weight slid forward, and Riley stroked Xander's tongue with his own, Xander felt Riley open up under him and he slid home. Both men groaned and began to move in a slow, rocking rhythm, matching the beat of the rain that had slowed, outside the window. Xander held Riley tight against him, and moved in and out, feeling Riley's dick rub between them and the way it jerked when Xander would hit his prostate.
He wanted this to last forever, but his body couldn't take much more. He loosened his hold on Riley just enough to reach between them and grab hold of Riley's cock. He began squeezing and pulling at it in time with his strokes into Riley's ass, then faster. Riley's fingers were digging into his back; the short nails left little scratches that heightened his pleasure. Then Riley arched up, his pelvis tightening, clamping down tight on Xander, just before he began to jerk and come all over Xander's hand and their stomachs. The rhythmic clamping around his cock was too much for Xander to take and he came too, pushing hard inside of Riley.
He collapsed on top of the other man, who ran his hands up and down Xander's back, and they tried to catch their breath. The air smelled like vanilla and sweat and sex. It was a heady combination. Xander felt himself softening and grasped the end of the condom, slowly pulling out and then disposing of it. They lay together and drowned in emotions neither knew how to put a voice to. ///
After Riley had left, Xander had bought a bottle of vanilla shower gel that he used when he was alone and missed Riley. Anya had found it once and used it. She had ended up very confused when Xander turned away from her that night in bed, despite his obvious erection, and told her that he wasn't in the mood. She had been very quiet, instead of her usually vocal self on the subject of sex. They hadn't ever talked about it.
He couldn't tell her that vanilla was the scent he shared with Riley, and he couldn't make love to her while thinking of him. Even now as he lay stroking himself, on their bed, in his mind the scents of vanilla and rain filled the air, and it was Riley he imaged sharing his soul with. It was Riley's name he called out when he came.
It left him spent and feeling empty inside. He knew that it was over between them, and that if it hadn't been before, it would be after today. He had been putting it off for too long. He hadn't written Riley in the last few weeks, not wanting to tell him the truth, to tell him how he had lied. Riley didn't need him any more; he just didn't know it yet. He had a new home. Buffy was back.
He knew that he had to write the letter today. He couldn't put it off any longer. Besides, he was home alone and it was still raining.
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