Music of Pain fic: Shame (O/X, S/X)
This is part 1 of 2. Oz/Xander and Spike/Xander for the
Music of Pain ficathon. The idea was to pick a country song and write a Xander-centric fic using the song as inspiration pretty much any way you wanted. I chose Willie Nelson's "Always On My Mind" (one of my most favorite country songs ever) and (at brandil's request Terry Gibbs' "Somebody's Knockin'". Lyrics at end of the fic.
I had originally intended to write too fics. An O/X for "Always On My Mind" and an S/X for "Somebody's Knockin'". They ended up wanting to be one story and I think it works better this way. I hope you agree.
Title: Shame
Author: Moosesal
Rating: Mature audiences
Beta: Incredible thanks to silvertedy for liking this (and for help with the grammar, of course).
Note: This isn't a happy, sappy story. It's the Music of Pain ficathon. My brain decided to run with the pain part. But it's all emotional, there's nothing graphic here.
Xander gasped and fisted the sheet beneath him. Arching up between soft lips, he cried out, "Ahn" as he came in Oz's mouth.
Oz swallowed, then pulled away to sit on the edge of the bed. "I'm leaving," he whispered.
Xander sat up and stared at Oz's back in confusion. They'd just had great sex. What was wrong? Until he replayed the last few minutes over in his head and it hit him. "Fuck," he groaned. "I'm sorry, Oz. I--"
"Didn't mean it. I know." His voice was flat as he rose and slipped on his pants. "You never do."
Before Xander could process what Oz meant, the front door was closing softly and he was alone.
***
It had been three years since Sunnydale. Xander had traveled the world on Council business. He'd put a lot of stuff behind him with the miles, but Anya's death still weighed heavy on him. He'd finally had enough of the constant reminders of her and of that time that came with his Council job and he'd left.
He went back to California, to L.A. If Angel and Spike could start fresh there, maybe he could, too.
It hadn't been hard to find a job in construction -- he managed to land a foreman position with a company run by a guy he'd known in Sunnydale.
He got himself a one-bedroom in a hi-rise and filled it with the barest essentials -- bed, dresser, couch, TV, DVD player, stereo. Everything a single guy in the city needed. And everything had its place.
He kept the liquor on the kitchen counter. No point in putting it away. Like a lot of things in Xander's life, it never lasted very long.
***
Patsy Cline on the jukebox would have made him crazy if he weren't already well into his cups for the night. A few more and he'd be right on the edge of oblivion, instinct the only thing left to get his ass back to his apartment.
"Can I get --" Xander's request for his tab died on his lips when he looked up to see Oz standing next to his table. "Hey." They hadn’t seen each other since Oz left Sunnydale. It seemed like a century.
"Hey," Oz almost smiled as he slid onto the bench across from Xander.
When the waitress came by, Xander ordered for them both; twenty minutes after last call, they stumbled around the corner to his apartment. Well, Xander stumbled, Oz strode with grace and confidence. It didn't hurt that Oz was sober.
The next morning Xander opened his eyes--and freaked. He didn't remember anything and wasn't sure what had happened, especially about what Oz was doing in his bed.
But they were both dressed, and when Oz awoke, he assured him that nothing had happened.
***
Drinking was something Xander was good at. How could he fail though? As long as he could buy the booze, he could drink it. And drink it he did.
Until Oz turned up. When he’d slid into the booth across from him that night, Xander hadn't known what to say.
He should have said thanks.
In the weeks that followed, he learned about all kinds of things to do in L.A. besides getting fucked up in a dingy bar and crawling home as the sun crawled up the horizon.
He learned that his apartment complex had a pool and that Oz was a good swimmer. Some nights they'd just hang and talk, and he learned all about Oz's travels after leaving Sunnydale. And when he got a few drinks in him and let go, he learned that Oz was an amazing kisser.
That first kiss and the ones that immediately followed sent him back to those first kisses with Cordy. New and exciting and wonderful. And the sex? It made the kisses seem pathetic.
The things Oz did with his hands and his lips and tongue and teeth, even. Amazing. After a night at the bar, Xander would forget everything and touch and kiss and lick in return.
But that was the problem -- he needed a few drinks. Because Xander wasn't gay. And even if he was, he was still in love with Anya.
Wasn't he?
But none of it mattered now anyway because he was alone again. Sitting in a dark bar, tossing back one tequila shot after another. He wasn't so sure what he thought anymore. Or what he felt. Or whom he loved, because suddenly he seemed to be missing Oz a lot more than he missed Anya.
***
Xander thought he'd done this before, but he couldn't quite remember. There was a man sitting across from him, talking to him, drinking whiskey. That part was new. Oz never had more than a beer or two.
"C'mon," the man said as he cocked his head towards the door. "Let's go somewhere a little more private."
Xander didn't even have to lead the way, somehow the man already knew where to go. The next thing, he was backed up against the wall just inside his front door, getting his dick sucked by someone who could have been a professional, it was that good. But something wasn’t right. It wasn’t Oz.
***
"Mind pulling the shades, luv? Don't fancy myself a pile of ash in your bed."
Xander wiped the sleep from his eyes as he came back from the bathroom. He hadn't even looked at the sleeping body beside him when he’d awakened to take a piss. Oz was the only one he'd ever brought here.
But this wasn't Oz.
Xander stared at the sliver of light grazing the end of the bed just inches from Spike's foot. Bits and pieces of the night before came back to him. He looked up to see Spike smiling at him. "All coming back now, eh?"
Xander ran back into the bathroom and threw up.
***
He didn't know how long Spike let him lay on the bathroom floor. At some point he'd fallen asleep, but now he heard a faint tapping at the door.
"Xan?"
"Go away," he grumbled.
"Open the door or I'll open it for you."
"Fuck you."
"Think we covered that part last night. Now move so that I can open the door."
Xander sighed and threw his body weight out of the door’s path. Spike opened it, and Xander looked up to see him standing there bare-chested, a pair of worn-out blue jeans hanging low on his hips, and a twinkle in his bright blue eyes.
"You okay?" He leaned against the doorframe and slipped a cigarette between his lips.
Xander thought he must be in hell because he looked up those lean legs and thought of Oz. How hot it would be to have his hands on those sharp hips while his mouth...
"Why'd you leave Anya at the altar?"
"What?” Xander looked up, confused. “What's that got--"
"Why'd you leave? What did that demon make you see?"
"I saw myself turning into my father."
"And what was so bad about that?"
"He was a drunk and--"
"Exactly." Spike raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly from Xander to the toilet to the empty vodka bottle on the vanity.
"Fuck you." Xander got to his feet and brushed past Spike out into the living room. His clothes were on the floor.
"Been there, done that. Pretty sure I'm not the one you're interested in.”
"It wasn't an offer, asshole. And whatever happened last night was a mistake. I love Anya.”
"I’m sure you do.” Spike stepped up behind him and traced a finger down his spine. “But she’s not the one you’re in love with."
Xander jerked away from his touch. "Get out."
"You were chanting his name while I sucked your cock. Not that that usually matters to me, but ... I clearly wasn’t the one you were thinking about."
Xander stared at him. "What do you want, Spike?"
“Well, I wanted a nice long shag, but you passed out before we got to that.”
“And what? You didn’t fuck my lifeless body? I thought that didn’t bother dead guys.”
“I believe the ‘fuck you’ comment belongs to me this time.”
Xander took a deep breath and tried to be calm. “What ... do you want ... Spike?”
"Want you to be happy."
Xander snorted and rolled his eyes. "Right. Because suddenly you care about me."
"No,” Spike stepped up to him, until just a few inches remained between them and poked him in his sternum. “Because Red cares about you."
Xander stepped back into his own space. "What's Willow got to do with this?"
"Seems she and dogboy --"
"Oz. His name is Oz." Xander’s fist curled and uncurled against his thigh.
"Right. Seems she and Oz still chat now and again. She asked me to check on you."
"She ask you to fuck me, too?" Xander was vibrating with anger, practically bouncing on his toes. Spike just smiled.
"Nah. You asked for that yourself."
This time Xander skipped the "Get out" and went straight to the violence, striking Spike in the nose.
"Bloody hell, Harris!” Spike licked the blood from his lip and waggled his eyebrows. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself last night."
"Get. The fuck. Out." Xander’s chest was heaving and he was practically humming with built-up energy.
Spike grabbed his shirt and shoes off the floor and headed for the door. Xander didn't even wonder if his building had sewer access or not.
As Spike opened the door and stepped through he paused and looked back. "Call Oz."
Xander followed him to the door and slammed it in his face. “Fuck you,” he muttered to himself one last time.
Part 2
Maybe I didn't love you
Quite as often as I could have
Maybe I didn't treat you
Quite as good as I should have
If I made you feel second best
Girl I'm sorry I was blind
You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind
Maybe I didn't hold you
All those lonely, lonely times
And I guess I never told you
I'm so happy that you're mine
Little things I should have said and done
I just never took the time
You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind
Tell me, tell me that your
Sweet love hasn't died
And give me
Give me one more chance
To keep you satisfied
satisfied
Little things I should have
Said and done
I just never took the time
You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind....
Somebody's knockin' should I let him in,
Lord it's the devil would you look at him
I've heard about him but I never dreamed,
he'd have blue eyes and blue jeans
Well somebody's talkin', he's whispering to me,
Your place or my place, well, which will it be
I'm gittin weaker and he's comin on strong,
but I don't wanna go wrong
He must have tapped my telephone line,
he must have known I'm spendin' my time alone
He says we'll have one heavenly night,
my fever's burnin', so he ought to bright a home
Somebody's knockin',
Somebody's knockin',
Oh Somebody's knockin'
Somebody's knockin' should I let him in,
Lord it's the devil would you look at him
I've heard about him but I never dreamed,
he'd have blue eyes and blue jeans
He must have tapped my telephone line,
he must have known I'm spendin' my time alone
He says we'll have one heavenly night,
my fever's burnin, so he ought to bright a home
Somebody's knockin',
Somebody's knockin',
Oh Somebody's knockin'
Music of Pain ficathon. The idea was to pick a country song and write a Xander-centric fic using the song as inspiration pretty much any way you wanted. I chose Willie Nelson's "Always On My Mind" (one of my most favorite country songs ever) and (at brandil's request Terry Gibbs' "Somebody's Knockin'". Lyrics at end of the fic.
I had originally intended to write too fics. An O/X for "Always On My Mind" and an S/X for "Somebody's Knockin'". They ended up wanting to be one story and I think it works better this way. I hope you agree.
Title: Shame
Author: Moosesal
Rating: Mature audiences
Beta: Incredible thanks to silvertedy for liking this (and for help with the grammar, of course).
Note: This isn't a happy, sappy story. It's the Music of Pain ficathon. My brain decided to run with the pain part. But it's all emotional, there's nothing graphic here.
Xander gasped and fisted the sheet beneath him. Arching up between soft lips, he cried out, "Ahn" as he came in Oz's mouth.
Oz swallowed, then pulled away to sit on the edge of the bed. "I'm leaving," he whispered.
Xander sat up and stared at Oz's back in confusion. They'd just had great sex. What was wrong? Until he replayed the last few minutes over in his head and it hit him. "Fuck," he groaned. "I'm sorry, Oz. I--"
"Didn't mean it. I know." His voice was flat as he rose and slipped on his pants. "You never do."
Before Xander could process what Oz meant, the front door was closing softly and he was alone.
***
It had been three years since Sunnydale. Xander had traveled the world on Council business. He'd put a lot of stuff behind him with the miles, but Anya's death still weighed heavy on him. He'd finally had enough of the constant reminders of her and of that time that came with his Council job and he'd left.
He went back to California, to L.A. If Angel and Spike could start fresh there, maybe he could, too.
It hadn't been hard to find a job in construction -- he managed to land a foreman position with a company run by a guy he'd known in Sunnydale.
He got himself a one-bedroom in a hi-rise and filled it with the barest essentials -- bed, dresser, couch, TV, DVD player, stereo. Everything a single guy in the city needed. And everything had its place.
He kept the liquor on the kitchen counter. No point in putting it away. Like a lot of things in Xander's life, it never lasted very long.
***
Patsy Cline on the jukebox would have made him crazy if he weren't already well into his cups for the night. A few more and he'd be right on the edge of oblivion, instinct the only thing left to get his ass back to his apartment.
"Can I get --" Xander's request for his tab died on his lips when he looked up to see Oz standing next to his table. "Hey." They hadn’t seen each other since Oz left Sunnydale. It seemed like a century.
"Hey," Oz almost smiled as he slid onto the bench across from Xander.
When the waitress came by, Xander ordered for them both; twenty minutes after last call, they stumbled around the corner to his apartment. Well, Xander stumbled, Oz strode with grace and confidence. It didn't hurt that Oz was sober.
The next morning Xander opened his eyes--and freaked. He didn't remember anything and wasn't sure what had happened, especially about what Oz was doing in his bed.
But they were both dressed, and when Oz awoke, he assured him that nothing had happened.
***
Drinking was something Xander was good at. How could he fail though? As long as he could buy the booze, he could drink it. And drink it he did.
Until Oz turned up. When he’d slid into the booth across from him that night, Xander hadn't known what to say.
He should have said thanks.
In the weeks that followed, he learned about all kinds of things to do in L.A. besides getting fucked up in a dingy bar and crawling home as the sun crawled up the horizon.
He learned that his apartment complex had a pool and that Oz was a good swimmer. Some nights they'd just hang and talk, and he learned all about Oz's travels after leaving Sunnydale. And when he got a few drinks in him and let go, he learned that Oz was an amazing kisser.
That first kiss and the ones that immediately followed sent him back to those first kisses with Cordy. New and exciting and wonderful. And the sex? It made the kisses seem pathetic.
The things Oz did with his hands and his lips and tongue and teeth, even. Amazing. After a night at the bar, Xander would forget everything and touch and kiss and lick in return.
But that was the problem -- he needed a few drinks. Because Xander wasn't gay. And even if he was, he was still in love with Anya.
Wasn't he?
But none of it mattered now anyway because he was alone again. Sitting in a dark bar, tossing back one tequila shot after another. He wasn't so sure what he thought anymore. Or what he felt. Or whom he loved, because suddenly he seemed to be missing Oz a lot more than he missed Anya.
***
Xander thought he'd done this before, but he couldn't quite remember. There was a man sitting across from him, talking to him, drinking whiskey. That part was new. Oz never had more than a beer or two.
"C'mon," the man said as he cocked his head towards the door. "Let's go somewhere a little more private."
Xander didn't even have to lead the way, somehow the man already knew where to go. The next thing, he was backed up against the wall just inside his front door, getting his dick sucked by someone who could have been a professional, it was that good. But something wasn’t right. It wasn’t Oz.
***
"Mind pulling the shades, luv? Don't fancy myself a pile of ash in your bed."
Xander wiped the sleep from his eyes as he came back from the bathroom. He hadn't even looked at the sleeping body beside him when he’d awakened to take a piss. Oz was the only one he'd ever brought here.
But this wasn't Oz.
Xander stared at the sliver of light grazing the end of the bed just inches from Spike's foot. Bits and pieces of the night before came back to him. He looked up to see Spike smiling at him. "All coming back now, eh?"
Xander ran back into the bathroom and threw up.
***
He didn't know how long Spike let him lay on the bathroom floor. At some point he'd fallen asleep, but now he heard a faint tapping at the door.
"Xan?"
"Go away," he grumbled.
"Open the door or I'll open it for you."
"Fuck you."
"Think we covered that part last night. Now move so that I can open the door."
Xander sighed and threw his body weight out of the door’s path. Spike opened it, and Xander looked up to see him standing there bare-chested, a pair of worn-out blue jeans hanging low on his hips, and a twinkle in his bright blue eyes.
"You okay?" He leaned against the doorframe and slipped a cigarette between his lips.
Xander thought he must be in hell because he looked up those lean legs and thought of Oz. How hot it would be to have his hands on those sharp hips while his mouth...
"Why'd you leave Anya at the altar?"
"What?” Xander looked up, confused. “What's that got--"
"Why'd you leave? What did that demon make you see?"
"I saw myself turning into my father."
"And what was so bad about that?"
"He was a drunk and--"
"Exactly." Spike raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly from Xander to the toilet to the empty vodka bottle on the vanity.
"Fuck you." Xander got to his feet and brushed past Spike out into the living room. His clothes were on the floor.
"Been there, done that. Pretty sure I'm not the one you're interested in.”
"It wasn't an offer, asshole. And whatever happened last night was a mistake. I love Anya.”
"I’m sure you do.” Spike stepped up behind him and traced a finger down his spine. “But she’s not the one you’re in love with."
Xander jerked away from his touch. "Get out."
"You were chanting his name while I sucked your cock. Not that that usually matters to me, but ... I clearly wasn’t the one you were thinking about."
Xander stared at him. "What do you want, Spike?"
“Well, I wanted a nice long shag, but you passed out before we got to that.”
“And what? You didn’t fuck my lifeless body? I thought that didn’t bother dead guys.”
“I believe the ‘fuck you’ comment belongs to me this time.”
Xander took a deep breath and tried to be calm. “What ... do you want ... Spike?”
"Want you to be happy."
Xander snorted and rolled his eyes. "Right. Because suddenly you care about me."
"No,” Spike stepped up to him, until just a few inches remained between them and poked him in his sternum. “Because Red cares about you."
Xander stepped back into his own space. "What's Willow got to do with this?"
"Seems she and dogboy --"
"Oz. His name is Oz." Xander’s fist curled and uncurled against his thigh.
"Right. Seems she and Oz still chat now and again. She asked me to check on you."
"She ask you to fuck me, too?" Xander was vibrating with anger, practically bouncing on his toes. Spike just smiled.
"Nah. You asked for that yourself."
This time Xander skipped the "Get out" and went straight to the violence, striking Spike in the nose.
"Bloody hell, Harris!” Spike licked the blood from his lip and waggled his eyebrows. “You seemed to be enjoying yourself last night."
"Get. The fuck. Out." Xander’s chest was heaving and he was practically humming with built-up energy.
Spike grabbed his shirt and shoes off the floor and headed for the door. Xander didn't even wonder if his building had sewer access or not.
As Spike opened the door and stepped through he paused and looked back. "Call Oz."
Xander followed him to the door and slammed it in his face. “Fuck you,” he muttered to himself one last time.
Part 2
Maybe I didn't love you
Quite as often as I could have
Maybe I didn't treat you
Quite as good as I should have
If I made you feel second best
Girl I'm sorry I was blind
You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind
Maybe I didn't hold you
All those lonely, lonely times
And I guess I never told you
I'm so happy that you're mine
Little things I should have said and done
I just never took the time
You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind
Tell me, tell me that your
Sweet love hasn't died
And give me
Give me one more chance
To keep you satisfied
satisfied
Little things I should have
Said and done
I just never took the time
You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind
You were always on my mind....
Somebody's knockin' should I let him in,
Lord it's the devil would you look at him
I've heard about him but I never dreamed,
he'd have blue eyes and blue jeans
Well somebody's talkin', he's whispering to me,
Your place or my place, well, which will it be
I'm gittin weaker and he's comin on strong,
but I don't wanna go wrong
He must have tapped my telephone line,
he must have known I'm spendin' my time alone
He says we'll have one heavenly night,
my fever's burnin', so he ought to bright a home
Somebody's knockin',
Somebody's knockin',
Oh Somebody's knockin'
Somebody's knockin' should I let him in,
Lord it's the devil would you look at him
I've heard about him but I never dreamed,
he'd have blue eyes and blue jeans
He must have tapped my telephone line,
he must have known I'm spendin' my time alone
He says we'll have one heavenly night,
my fever's burnin, so he ought to bright a home
Somebody's knockin',
Somebody's knockin',
Oh Somebody's knockin'