Interesting...
'What am I gonna do? I think about sex all the time! Sex! Help! Four times five is thirty. Five times six is thirty-two. Naked girls. Naked Women! Naked Buffy! Oh, stop me!'
"God, Xander! Is that all you think about?"
- Xander and Buffy, Earshot
It was dark. And someone else was there. Someone who didn't seem to need to breathe, because there was no sound of breathing except his own. And then foot steps... and he could hear...
Deadboy - Angel. Here, in Xander's bedroom. What was he doing here? Was there another apocalypse coming?
Whoa - lips, kissing, tongues... Hold on, where did the shirts go? There were shirts just a second ago, weren't they? Wow, cold skin. Very cold.
And - hello - hands... Hands in places. Ooh, a bit to the left, please? Yes, that feels nice...
Not only hands... certain male reproductive organs... in places - places! Rear-ish type places! And that feels good, and - fuck! that hurt.
And mouths... moving down, down, down... Down and on those certain male reproductive organs... Ooh, that feels good, oh, yes...
Groans, moans, all types of -oan sounds.
This was taking time to process. Xander was having sex - sex! With Angel. There were hands and certain male reproductive organs and rear-ish type places and everything!
And then-
Class bell. Shuffle of chairs. Chatter.
Xander snapped out of his reverie and looked around. He was fantasizing about sex with Angel. In his morning class.
He could only hope Buffy didn't still have traces of her telepathic abilities...