*****

Xander looked over and rolled his eyes. Dammit. He was stuck in the cellar of some frat house with Parker Abrams, the last guy he ever wanted to be stuck with. Xander wondered how he ever got into this mess.

Oh yeah. How could he forget? He had tagged along to another frat party with Willow, Oz, and Buffy. He had to stop doing that. One, he didn't want to be the tagalong guy and two, the parties always ended up sucking, in a great big hellmouthy way.

This particular frat house apparently had been moved from London in the late 1700's. They tored the original house down and then carted it over to America and put it back together, piece by piece. Well, unfortunately for Xander, the house was haunted. Xander didn't quite understand it, but he didn't need to. All he knew was when everyone was getting their groove on during 'N Sync's "Tearin' Up My Heart," the house started going wiggy and somehow, he ended up in the cellar with Parker.

The spirits had put them together and he didn't know why. He hated Parker. Parker was a bad, bad man, who had used one of Xander's best friends. But there they were, locked together. . .in a cellar. . .with no way out.

"So, you got to UCS?" Parker asked.

Again, Xander rolled his eyes. "No, I'm a 'townie'. A big, stupid non college guy."

Parker's brow creased. "Hey, it's okay. I'd be a non college guy myself if there weren't so many chicks on campus."

Narrowing his eyes, Xander asked, "How do you sleep at night?"

Choosing to ignore the condemnation in the other guy's voice, Parker answered, "Usually on my back with some girl's head on my chest. How 'bout yourself?"

Xander tried not to smile, really he did. But the flippant way the other boy had answered was just plain funny. Xander cracked a smile.

"Whoa. The guy can do something besides frown."

Xander arched his eyebrows. "Hey, my good friend is hurt because. . ."

"Let me guess," Parker interrupted, "you're friends with Buffy Summers, right?" Xander nodded. "Look, I'm sorry she's hurt, but honestly? It's not my problem. I didn't promise her anything."

"Don't you think sex should mean anything?"

"Do you?" Xander thought back to his few sexual experiences and realized that they didn't mean all that much. It was just sex. "See," Parker said, scooting closer to Xander and leaning back against the brick wall. "You know what I'm talking about. Most girls try to make it a commitment thing and try to make it mean something so they don't have to feel bad about wanting something that makes them feel so good." Noticing the crease in Xander's brow, he continued. "Sex feels good. Men know this. Girls know it too, but they've been brought up to think that it's wrong to want something that can make them feel that way, so they convince themselves that sex should be love and commitment. See, if girls were raised like us, they'd see it as fun and pleasure too."

Xander blinked. Stupid Parker made sense. "But there are guys, like Oz, for instance, who see sex as an expression of love."

"Yeah, there are, but if they're genuine, they're few and far between, but mostly, I think guy like that are fake."

"So they're just in it for the sex too?"

"Of course. They make it seem like they really feel for the girl and maybe they stay with the girl for a while, but deep down, the pleasure is what makes them stay and 'feel'."

Xander sighed. "That's really cynical."

"No, it's not cynicism. It's realism. It's truth; it's fact." Turning to Xander, Parker studied him. "I can tell you understand what I'm saying."

"Unfortunately I do."

Parker's brow creased in question. "Why unfortunately?"

"Because I'm supposed to hate you."

Parker nodded. "Yeah, loyality to Buffy. Well, if it makes you feel any better, just because you understand me and my way of thinking now, doesn't mean you have to like me."

But I can't help but like you because I understand you."

Parker shrugged. "Is that so wrong?" Xander just sighed in response. "You know, I've gotten to know a lot of women. . ."

"Okay, Mr. Braggart."

Parker smiled. "I wasn't bragging. I was going to say that I've known a lot of women, but I rarely get to know guys. I have a lack of male friends."

Nodding, Xander said, "I understand that too. I don't have many friends at all and the few that I do have are female. I mean, there's Giles, but he's old and not really a friend, more like a mentor. And Oz. I think Oz just puts up with me because of Willow."

Parker looked up. "Can I ask you something?"

Xander nodded. "Sure."

"Why do you hang out with them. I mean, you don't seem like them. What do you have in common?"

Sighing heavily, Xander closed his eyes. He'd thought about that very question often. "Not much, I guess," he replied. "We just have a shared past and we have a bond that transcends. . ." his voice trailed off.

"Xander," Parker said, unselfconsciously placing his hand on the other boy's leg. "I didn't mean to make you feel. . .sad or whatever. I was just wondering why you call them friends. Neither Willow or Buffy would be my first choice in friends."

"Yeah, well, they weren't always like they are now."

"I'm sure." Parker looked at his hand innocently resting on Xander's knee and said, "They must have been something special to have gotten you to be their friend."

Xander glanced down at his knee then back up at Parker. "Are, are you putting the moves on me?"

"Moves?" Parker questioned with raised eyebrows.

"Is this what you did to get Buffy to sleep with you?"

Parker smiled thinly. "Xander, I'm being myself here and I was myself with Buffy as well, and if that's 'putting the moves on', then so be it."

Blinking rapidly, Xander asked in a shaky voice, "Why, why are you, uh, well, 'being yourself' with me?"

Still smiling, Parker let his hand move up to Xander's thigh. "Because I haven't gotten to know a lot of guys and I feel like I'm getting to know you. You're special, Xander."

Closing his eyes to fight against the rising fuzzy feelings, Xander asked, "Why should I believe you? You, you probably say that to everyone you. . ."

"No," Parker denied firmly. "I don't. I can't explain it, Xander, I just feel comfortable with you." He chuckled. "I didn't even think that I could be gay before tonight."

Xander swallowed hard. Gay? Parker? Empty cellar? Xander opened his eyes as he felt Parker's hand creep up his thigh. He watched almost stunned as the hand skipped over the growing bulge in his pants and moved to his chest. Glancing back at Parker, Xander saw raw passion in his eyes. "This is just pleasure, right?" Xander asked, his voice trembling. "I mean, it, it wouldn't mean anything, right? It would just be two people experiencing pleasure and having fun together; it doesn't mean that there's going to be a relationship of hearts, flowers and lips, right?"

"Lips, yes, hearts and flowers? Probably not," Parker whispered as he leaned towards Xander.

Both boys licked their lips before pressing them together. Hands moved over body parts and under clothes as the kiss continued and intensified. Parker pushed Xander back until the younger boy was lying with his back against the cold, hard, dirty concrete floor.

Xander moaned but continued to kiss the guy he was supposed to hate. Parker loomed over him for a moment before lowering his body, pressing Xander against the floor. Their erections pressed against each other through the thickness of their jeans. Instinctively, they both started thrusting. After a brief moment of wild thrusts, they managed to create a rhythm that had them both moaning incessantly.

Xander's arms wrapped around Parker's body as his hips kept bucking upwards. The sensations he was experiencing were intense. His eyes were shut tightly as his mouth continued to tangle with Parker's. Suddenly, Parker pulled his mouth away. His brow creased as he let out a tiny, breathy moan. Realizing that the other boy was coming, Xander flipped them over and started thrusting frantically, leading himself to orgasm.

Rolling off of Parker, Xander sighed. "Wow."

Parker nodded. "And that wasn't even defined as sex."

Rolling his head to the side, Xander lifted an eyebrow at Parker. "Then what was it?"

"Heavy petting."

Sitting up and ignoring the squishiness of this pants, Xander shrugged. "Whatever it was, it was good."

Both guys jumped slightly when they heard Buff yelling Xander's name. Parker turned to the other boy. "Hey, I'll call you tomorrow, okay?

Xander chuckled. "Yeah, sure you will," he said unbelieving. "'Cause I'm 'special', right? What happened to our honest discussion? You forget about it?'

"No, I mean it. I'll call you," he countered quickly. Buffy's voice was getting closer.

"You don't have my number."

"Then give it to me."

Xander's eyebrows rose. "Are you being serious? I thought this didn't mean anything."

Shaking his head, Parker said, "This was different. It was more than just fun. Didn't you feel it?"

Quietly, Xander replied, "I felt it."

Parker smiled. "Good. Give me your number and I'll call you. Or better yet, I'll give you mine." Removing a pen from the back pocket of his pants, Parker unbuttoned Xander's shirt sleeve and pushed it up, bearing his forearm. He looked up and into Xander's questioning eyes. "So Buffy doesn't see," he explained before quickly writing his number on Xander's skin. He pulled the sleeve back down and put the pen away.

Parker leaned over and kissed Xander, quickly. "Please call," he whispered as he pulled back, right before Buffy kicked open the heavy oak door.

~end~