Wholesome
"Riley?" Xander slid in next to him at the bar. "It's been said before, but I gotta ask: what's a guy like you doing in place like this?" Riley looked wrong in Willy's--just too damn wholesome.
"Slumming," Riley said amiably. "Didn't expect to see you here either."
"Yeah, I'm not much for slumming. Guys like me, there's not really anywhere lower to go."
Riley laughed, heartily. He was like that. "Yeah, I hear that. How's Anya?"
"...how's Buffy?" Xander countered quickly.
"Okay, okay. No questions. Want a drink?"
"Technically, that would be a question, but sure," said Xander, "whatever you're having."
Riley looked at him like he was insane, but he paid for Xander's beer so all was right in the state of Denmark. Whatever that meant. He lifted his glass, but couldn't think of anything to toast to. "To..."
"...to drowning your sorrows in alcohol," Riley finished for him.
"Amen, buddy." They clinked their glasses and grinned at each other. Xander leaned in a little, friendly-like, and Riley looked down sort of bashfully. It had been awhile since either of them had hung out with what Xander mentally referred to as "the boys"--probably why this felt so weird. Probably.
They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes. "So. Buffy," Xander blurted, because that was his nature. If a moment wasn't awkward, he'd fix that shit right away. "You said...you said she didn't love you."
"She doesn't," Riley said, hunching down over his drink. "Never did."
"Wow, Riley, I'm--"
"Yeah. It's tragic. I was stupid not to realize it for so long."
Xander felt really bad all of a sudden because, well, at least he'd gotten rid of that particular illusion three years ago. "Angel."
"Yes, lovemuffin?"
Xander sputtered. "No, I mean...Angel. Lurky, creepy, leather coat guy."
Riley almost smirked. "I was just messin' with ya."
"Okay," Xander said, still feeling off-balance. "But. Angel is why. It's not easy competing with the love of someone's life. One nice thing about Anya--I think I'm the only guy she's never dismembered after one meeting."
"You two seem happy," Riley ventured.
"We do."
"...are you? Happy, I mean."
"Yeah! Sort of," Xander qualified. "Like, she's great, and she cares about me, and I don't deserve that, all dismemberings aside, but I just don't think she's...you know, the one."
Riley nodded and turned back to the bar. They drank.
"Is it soldiers that people who drink a lot drink like?" Xander asked around his tongue, awhile later.
Riley thought a moment. "That's fish."
He seemed very far away. Xander scooted closer. He could hear Riley, and smell him and feel their knees brushing. It was a Riley Sense-O-Rama. He giggled.
"What?"
"It's just," Xander said, and then gave up because gesturing with his hands made him dizzy. He felt/heard/saw Riley chuckle beside him. Riley didn't giggle. He was way too...manly, Xander figured. With his shoulders and his arms and his hands and the way his fingernails were trimmed so neatly.
He reached for his drink, but it didn't seem to be where he'd put it. He searched a little until Willy said "Go home, Harris, you're spilling beer everywhere."
"I am not," he protested righteously, licking beer off of his fingers.
Riley was staring drunkenly at him. "We should go," he said, standing up. Xander was suddenly envious of his friend's superior motor skills.
"Can't. Anya. She'd kill me," Xander explained, and continued searching for his glass.
Riley grabbed his hand. "Come on. You can crash at my place." It didn't really sound like a line, but Xander snickered anyway.
"Sure thing, angel."
"Xander. Get a grip."
He did, a good one on Riley's fingers, and let Riley pull him up. They staggered outside and down the street.
"Vampires!" Xander pointed out suddenly, halfway back to Riley's apartment.
"It's okay," said Riley, and Xander believed him; he was comfortingly large.
"You don't have a couch," Xander noticed as soon as they were inside.
"No. Sorry. We'll have to share." Riley kicked off his shoes and fell back onto the bed in one smooth move.
Xander followed him, wriggling a little to get comfortable. He lay for a few minutes in a relaxed, drunken stupor. Opening his eyes, he found his chin was tucked against Riley's shoulder. He stretched his head over so that he could lap cheerfully at Riley's neck.
"Oh, geez," Riley moaned, twisting a little. Which was good, because that dispelled all possible awkwardness. Xander moved so that he was half on top of Riley, getting a better angle, licking harder and biting anything Riley seemed to want him to bite. Riley gave that impression, somehow.
He started when Riley slid an easy hand over his erection. "Man. Riley. You..." You've done this before, he was thinking. It made him blush. He ground his palm down on Riley where his pants were tented.
That earned him another groan, and then Riley was working in earnest, dragging him over so he could get at both their dicks at the same time, stripping off some extraneous pieces of clothing. It was nice, letting someone else do the maneuvering. It was really nice.
"Yeah, that's good, that's--" and his brain shorted out. He lifted himself up to kiss Riley somewhere near his mouth.
Riley stopped humping against his hand for a second. "Xander?"
"That would be me." He squirmed a little, anxiously. "Come on."
Riley swallowed. "Yeah, okay," he said, and kept jerking his hips, and he made the same stupid noises when he came that everyone did. Xander followed him a second later.
"Wow."
"Yes."
He tried to get his arms to work so he could see Riley's face. "I, uh."
"Yeah," Riley said, and kissed him, eyes glowing happily. He still looked pretty damn wholesome, even covered in semen and smelling like booze.
Xander smiled, squirming into a comfortable sleeping position. He closed his eyes. "Here's to drowning your sorrows in gay sex."
"Amen, buddy," Riley said, and put a heavy hand on his back to stroke him into sleep.