Early on December 25th, Giles, still wide awake, looked outside, seeing that the unexpected snowfall of the night before still lingered. The greenness of the yard behind his apartment complex showed in places under its blanket of white. Touching the windowpane he noted the coolness of the glass. In fact, his breath caused it to fog up a bit.
Smiling to himself, he thought briefly of winters in England where snow was not such an anomaly and, in fact, a white Christmas was practically a necessity for people to enjoy themselves properly. Not that he had enjoyed the holiday for many years and, since moving to California, he had virtually ignored it. He and Buffy and the Slayerettes exchanged gifts but that was about the extent of it and, quite frankly, that was fine with him. It wasn't Christmas that he missed but, rather, winter. And now here it was.
Hurrying to take advantage of this phenomenom, he pulled on his warmest overcoat, dug a pair of gloves out of a drawer and went out to walk in the snow.
When he opened the door, however, there was a surprise waiting for him. A snow covered bundle fell in at his feet. Giles jumped back, startled until he realized what it was. Or, rather, who.
"Xander!"
The young man groaned as he tumbled across the doorway of Giles' apartment. Huddled in a sleeping bag with the hood of a light jacket pulled up over his head, Xander looked like he was half frozen. Snow dusted his thick dark eyelashes and the ends of the hair that peeked out from under his hood. His nose and cheeks were rosy red. Giles couldn't see any evidence of frostbite so he reasoned that Xander hadn't been out there all night. Of course, it wasn't that cold out -- just a few degrees below freezing.
Crouching down beside Xander, Giles helped him get loose of the sleeping bag. The boy got painfully to his feet; his legs were cramped from the limited space inside his cocoon.
"Thanks, Giles." Xander stood there shivering, rubbing his gloveless hands together.
"Come inside and warm up." Giles ushered him through the door then gathered the items Xander had left lying on the doorstep. There was a bag of chips, half a candy cane and a plastic grocery bag with a box wrapped, and taped, in newspaper. Giles brought them inside as well and shut the door.
Placing Xander's things on the coffee table he looked at his visitor. "What were you doing sitting out there?"
"Sleeping," was the sheepish reply.
"Why? Don't you have a home to go to?"
Something like shame or guilt flickered through Xander's eyes and then it was gone. But Giles had seen enough to be disturbed by it. He decided to keep quiet about it for now.
"Go sit down and I'll make you a hot drink. Here," he pulled a throw off the back of the couch and handed it to Xander who sat there with it in his hands just staring at it. Giles went into the kitchen to plug in the kettle and returned to the living room. Seeing Xander shivering as he held the blanket, Giles gently pulled it from the boy's lax hands and drew it around his hunched shoulders.
He sat down beside him.
"Xander," he said softly. "Talk to me."
As if someone had thrown a switch, Xander brightened and became more animated.
"Talk? What about? I'm fine."
"No, you're not. Tell me what's wrong."
Xander's big brown eyes lifted and studied Giles for a moment. Apparently deciding to confide in the Watcher, he said, "Christmas sucks."
"It's not exactly my favourite time of year either but I wouldn't say it...sucks."
"It does at my house. Every Christmas Eve, my uncle and aunts come over and they and my parents start drinking and it doesn't stop until they pass out. It gets pretty rowdy. I take my sleeping bag out in the yard and camp out."
"It's not exactly safe to be outside all night in Sunnydale," Giles pointed out.
"It's better than staying inside the house." Xander fell silent again. Just when Giles thought the boy wasn't going to say anymore Xander said, "Anyway, when it got cold and started to snow I realized I couldn't stay outside all night so I came here."
"How long were you out there?"
"A few hours. Maybe. I don't know..."
"Why didn't you knock?"
"Thought you might be sleeping."
"That's never stopped you before."
Xander shrugged. "I felt funny about it this time. I mean, I was running away from home -- sorta. Buffy ran away and when she came back you weren't exactly leaping around the room shouting with glee and joy."
"It was a bit different with Buffy but I was pleased to see her."
"Could have fooled me."
"I suppose I did."
Xander looked up at that remark. "Yeah?"
Giles smiled. "Yeah."
The kettle started to whistle. Giles returned to the kitchen. When he came back with two mugs of hot chocolate, handing one to Xander who gratefully wrapped his cold hands around it, he asked, "Do they...hurt you when they get...rowdy?"
"My relatives? Nah. Oh, maybe Aunt Sally gets a bit friendly and kind of touchy-feely but other than the fights that break out and the screaming and the crying before they all make up and drink up, it's not so bad. I would just rather not have to be there when it happens." He sipped his hot chocolate and fell silent again.
Giles sat back in his chair, holding his own drink, thinking.
"You can come here whenever it gets rough," he finally said.
Xander's head lifted from his bent shoulders. "Yeah?"
"I'll get another key made. You may keep it and use it as you need it."
"Thanks, Giles." Xander spoke softly and Giles was sure he saw tears glisten in the teen's eyes. Swallowing past the lump in his own throat, he finished his chocolate and set the mug down.
"I was going out for a walk in the snow. Want to come with me?"
Xander's nose wrinkled. "I don't know... What's so great about it? It's cold, wet and white. Boring."
"Oh? Boring, you say?" Giles grabbed his mug, stood up taking Xander's mug from him and went to the kitchen with both. When he came back out he said, "I have a coat and gloves you can borrow."
"Giles..."
But Giles wasn't listening. Within moments he had Xander bundled up warmly and out the door.
Two hours later, Xander had opened up about his family's obnoxious behaviour towards him and each other and had worked past his resentment and anger. He put it behind him as Giles showed him the pleasures of playing in the snow.
A fistful of snow landing on the back of Xander's neck started it. The boy spun around in shock, shivering as some of the cold stuff trickled down his back.
"Giles!"
"What's the matter? Can't handle a snowball?" The Watcher taunted.
Xander bent, scooped up some snow, packed it together into a ball like a pro and let it fly.
It hit Giles square in the face. His grin vanished to be replaced by an expression that could only be described as vengeful.
The frozen missiles flew fast and furious. Most of them hitting their marks, some zinging high and wide. Finally, gasping for breath, Giles called a halt to the war.
"Truce!" he yelled, laughing.
Another snowball smacked him in the side of the head.
"I called a truce. White flag!"
"Not until the last man is standing," Xander yelled back.
"If that's how you want it..." Giles scooped a double handful and threw it up into Xander's face, temporarily blinding him. While Xander sputtered, Giles rushed forward and tackled the teen, knocking him to the ground.
They landed in a tangled heap. Trying to sort out his arms and legs from Xander's, Giles raised up on his elbows and looked down. Underneath him, Xander stopped struggling and gazed up into the Watcher's eyes. Lifting a hand to brush the snow away from Xander's eyes, Giles allowed his fingers to linger on the boy's cheek, staring into those big chocolatey eyes. Then he realized what he was doing.
Xander stopped him before he could pull away.
"'S'okay," he whispered, his own hand on Giles' shoulder.
Giles lay half on top of Xander, his right leg between both of the boy's. He realized he was getting hard, his erection pressing against Xander's hip buffered by the thickness of his coat. Their faces were inches apart, Xander's full lips so close to his own.
Abruptly, he climbed off and got to his feet, reaching down to help Xander off the ground.
Xander hung onto Giles' arm longer than necessary. When they stepped apart they both turned to head back to Giles' apartment. They walked in silence for a while.
"Xander, I apologize for what happened just now." Giles couldn't look at his companion.
"Don't." The teen's voice was hoarse. "I kinda hoped that maybe we could...you know, some day."
Giles met Xander's eyes. After a moment he smiled gently. "Come on. Let's go home."
By the time they returned to the apartment, Giles wanted so badly to take Xander into his arms and do things to him that were wild and loving all at the same time and would get him arrested just for thinking about them. His passion, which was painfully aroused, urged him to throw away caution and common sense. Yet he resisted.
Removing his outerwear he turned to take the coat from Xander and found himself with an armful of eager, turned-on teen. Xander kissed him soundly. He was a good kisser. How could he not be? All that practicing with Cordelia -- for certain a demanding mistress. The last of his reserves melting away under the assault, Giles kissed him back, opening his mouth to allow entrance to Xander's tongue. In turn, he violated the young man's mouth, delving deeply until he drew back, rasping Xander's bottom lip between his teeth and then releasing him.
They stared at one another, both breathing heavily. An unspoken thought passed between them and then they were attacking one another with mouths and hands. Xander's shirt came off over his head, and Giles' shirt was hanging from his shoulders, his braces dangling from his waist.
They moved in a kind of awkward slow dance across the living room. Xander fell backwards suddenly, reaching out for support and taking Giles down with him. They tumbled together onto the couch landing with a rush of expelled air, laughing at the absurdity of the situation but not stopping in their frenzied need to consummate their lust. Giles shifted so that he was lying on top of Xander again, pressing him into the cushions with the weight of his body. He dragged his leg over Xander's straddling him at the hips and levered himself upright.
Xander reached up to pull him back down. Giles batted his hands away. And then his fingers were busy undoing the fastener of Xander's jeans, sliding the zipper open. Impatient, Xander wriggled out of the jeans as quickly as he could and Giles dragged the briefs down after them. In no time at all, all of their clothing lay scattered on the floor next to the couch and they were back in each other's arms.
Skin glided against skin, smooth and rough at the same time. Giles covered Xander's mouth with his own in a deep, searching kiss, breaking it off to nip and suck at the younger man's chin and then his throat. Xander's hands stroked the length of Giles' torso, skimming over his ribs to come to a rest on the flesh of his buttocks where he squeezed a gentle rhythm. Taking the hint, Giles began to rock back and forth, dragging his erect penis over Xander's belly enjoying the sensation even more as Xander's cock rubbed against his abdomen. The friction quickly became unbearable and soon they both shot their seed, pooling it between them.
Lifting his head, Giles regarded his new lover with satisfaction.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"Uh huh." Xander sounded a bit breathless but he smiled back.
"Would you like to go upstairs so we can do it properly?"
"There's more?"
Giles laughed and stood, pulling Xander up after him.
In the bedroom with the dim winter sunlight providing the only illumination, they loved each other -- thoroughly, with care, with desire, with fierceness.
Hands stroked firm flesh, mouths suckled, and bodies moved to an ancient rhythm. Soft cries were muffled against skin. Panting voices made urgent demands. Grunts of exertion turned into rapturous cries.
Shuddering, chasing Xander's intense climax, Giles came with a shout and they collapsed together on the bed. Sweat- slicked, exhausted, and thoroughly sated, they wound themselves around each other, pulled a blanket up and fell soundly asleep.
Xander awoke, sleepily dragging his hands over his face. Giles sat Indian style beside him on the bed, wearing a bathrobe that gaped open to show the sprinkling of hair on his chest.
Xander smiled, reaching out to run his fingers over that hair.
"Hi."
"Merry Christmas," Giles replied.
"Yeah," Xander said quietly. "It sure is. First time in a long time." He struggled into a sitting position, modestly draping the sheets over his lap. "I brought you a present."
"Yes." Giles' green eyes were fastened on Xander, twinkling with good humour and a certain amount of seriousness. "You certainly did."
Laughing, Xander said, "I meant a wrapped gift."
"I know," Giles grinned at him. "I have one for you, too."
"Can we open them now?" Xander's innate playfulness reasserted itself. Getting out of bed he put on the robe Giles offered him.
They went downstairs, each finding fresh hope and contentment, to take care of the second best part of this particular Christmas.