Te: Deb: pink, cool, wood
 

There are some secrets a guy will take to his grave.  Xander has more
than his share.  Of course, Willow knows most of them, but Xander
figures that since he knows most of *hers*, his are quite safe.

Of course time and distance have lessened the impact of some of these
memories.  Xander no longer cringes quite so much when he looks at the
heavy wood coffee table and remembers leaping from it, screaming,
"Christmas!"  Hey, he was five.  And even Willow had bought the Peter
Pan Happy Thoughts propaganda.  But by the time Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
had rolled around, they were a little bit more cynical.

However, not even Willow knows about the time he cried because his
mother wouldn't let him be a bunny for Halloween.  A pink bunny.  A
fuzzy pink bunny.  And that was when he was six.

Other things, however are not so much cringe-worthy as much as they are
just his.

Okay, eating a pig, yes.  Decidedly cringe-worthy.  But other things...
Stopping the school from blowing up.  Good.  Buying a dress for Cordy.
Also good.  Maybe even better in some ways.

This, however, is best of all.  Not just his, but theirs.  His and
Giles'.  For now, anyway, until someone notices that Xander seems to be
living here.

Like the best of things that are his, it came out of the blue.  Just a
searching look over Giles' glasses one night as he was leaving and his
name.  "Xander."

Not quite a question, but Xander found himself nodding just the same.
And then found himself trapped between the door and six feet of
ex-librarian while said ex-librarian taught Xander more about kissing in
five minutes than he'd have thought possible.  Not that Xander minded
having this deficiency pointed out to him in the least.

He knows much more now.  About kissing and other things.  Some shocking,
like the time Giles kissed a trail down his back and kept on going to
the *last* place Xander ever expected a kiss.  Xander ripped a pillow
with his teeth that night.

Some equally shocking, equally nice.  Like that laughing during sex will
make Giles come so hard he almost passes out.  Or that being used for a
pillow is a good thing.  Even if he sometimes gets drooled on.  It's
Giles' drool, so that makes it cool with Xander.

Tonight, Xander is using Giles for a pillow, drowsily listening to his
heart beat and nuzzling closer as Giles idly ruffles his hair.  Post
fuck snuggling, and that is also something that Xander took to like a
duck to water.

But it's not just the sex, which is great, or the snuggling, which is
also great.  It's... well.  Everything.  Knowing he's free to say or do
anything and the worst thing that will happen will be a quizzical
glance.  Or maybe a toe curling kiss.

And so, half asleep and contented in a boneless sort of way, Xander
smiles a little and says, "Hey, Giles.  Did you know when I was six..."