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1. The Moment of Massive Realization
I don’t expect you to understand.
It really did come to me in a moment. A moment in which the blindingly obvious became, well, obvious, like a lightning-fast punch from the Slayer herself. As a matter of fact the Slayer in question was busy punching the unliving deadlights out of yet another vampire even as I dodged a second nearby.
“Pleased to meet you, pleased to eat you,” my attacker remarked, grinning obscenely as he lunged at me.
“Eep!” I squealed, fumbling with my stake and dropping it as I ducked behind a tombstone. “Oh, this is not good.”
As usual when faced with danger these days, I turned to the black arts. Muttering the relevant incantation under my breath I focused briefly on my lost stake and then mentally shoved it up and through the air, aiming for Mr Fangy’s heart. He stopped mid-lunge, looked down at the wood impaled in his chest in shock and promptly exploded into ashes.
It was then that I saw her. I mean, really saw her. Through the rain of stinky vampire dust I saw Buffy, wheeling around to deliver a stunning kick to her opponent’s back, sending him flying flat onto his face at my feet. The moonlight brought out silvery highlights in her golden hair and her face was in shadow as she gathered herself for her final move. As I gaped stupidly (like some sort of stupid-looking fish) she launched herself as Mr Fangy 2 struggled to his feet and in one smooth move buried her stake to its hilt in his heart. Okay, so that sounded lame and moony, that bit about her hair, but hey, it’s what I noticed and I’m trying to describe the moment here.
That was the moment I realized I was uh, shall we say, attracted to Buffy. Not like a friend, mind you, and not like some kinda weird magnetic hellmouthy spell-gone-wrong deal, no I mean lesbian-attracted. Yeah, that really spells it out alright.
It’s not like I never lusted after her before. I’ve had lusty moments aplenty where she’s concerned, especially when she goes all dark and Slayerish. Oh boy, I sound like a stalker! That’s not it at all. Look, anyone with eyes has lusted after Buffy at some point, orientation aside! Just look at her. All cute and gorgeous and totally hot and covered in sweat and steely eyed and, “I will save you" and, "look at me as I kick some major ass in my ass-huggin’ leather pants,” okay, stopping now. Back to my point which was, although I have often lusted after Buffy (as have we all), I’ve never done it in a, “I want you right now on top of me” way, if that makes sense. I’ve never done it with serious intention of wishing we were more than the bestest of friends.
At least not to my conscious knowledge. I think.
Just because I may be kinda gay it doesn’t mean I want all my straight friends. I mean, look at Anya. Nuh uh! Or Amy…the rat. Hmm, I don’t really have a lot to pick from here.
So anyway, like I was babbling, it was in that innocuous moment that I realized that I wanted Buffy - wanted her for myself and wanted her to want me. There was an awful lot of wanting going on just under the surface of Willow Rosenberg and really, who knew? Not me, that’s for sure. Not ‘till now. Just look at her in those pants…must stop looking and…leering?! I leer? Bu…but, I don’t wanna leer! Leering is bad and skanky but how can I not leer in that particular direction…
2. The Unnaturalness Following Massive Realization
“Will?” said Buffy, brushing vampire dust off her brown leather duster. “What is it? Do I have demon-goo on me?”
“Uh, no?” I hazarded, feeling my face flame red as I realized I was still staring longingly at her, and even though I had now realized my faux pas I was still unable to tear my gaze away.
“Good,” she said, sounding relieved. “This outfit set me back way too much for me to wear it into a serious fight. Those creeps had more skills than the usual kind. Not what I was expecting.”
“Uh, yeah,” I agreed, nodding inanely. “They were…skillish.”
“Skillish?” she shot a sidelong glance at me as we began to walk toward the graveyard entrance.
“Uh, yeah,” I said again, still nodding sagely.
“What’s wrong?” she asked with an amused smirk. Goddess, how cute that amused smirk was.
“Uh, what?” I countered stupidly.
Now she stopped, turned and rested her hands on my shoulders so we could look eye to eye.
“Concussion?” she half-joked, making a point of looking at each of my pupils, “c’mon, Willow, your mono-syllabicness has ‘hit over head’ or ‘keeping secret’ written all over it. Now out with the Goss. ‘Cause your eyes look fine.”
“Fine,” I repeated happily, feeling a warm glow in my belly. She thought my eyes looked ‘fine’! Geez I had it bad; my spaz-likeness was reaching all new gargantuan proportions. “My eyes are green.”
“Yes they are,” agreed Buffy, in her best humoring tone, “Green like some varieties of demon goo. Now out with it.”
With that less than romantic analogy I snapped out of it and hurriedly changed the topic.
“Nice weather we’re having. The moon’s uh, bright and all.”
Another sidelong probing glance from the Slayer. “Fine Will, be avoidy. You know I’ll get it out of you sooner or later. I have special powers. Such as making with the tickling and my power of nagging ‘till the cows come home.”
“The cows live at your home?” I hugged myself happily as we left the graveyard and proceeded down the street together. This was so nice. Being here with Buffy, joking around and being all pal-ly. She wasn’t bad to look at either. Joke! That last part was a joke.
Buffy grinned back. “Sure we have cows at the Summers residence. Mostly when something goes wrong – great big ones. Speaking of the Summers residence, you up for ice cream? We have an obscenely large carton in our freezer that could do with some hoeing down.”
“Hoeing down it is,” I agreed gladly. We’d already agreed to have a sleepover at her Mom’s house that night for old time’s sake and my stuff was already there. It was a long weekend and her Mom was away at a conference. “Just try to stop me with the hoeing. Wait, that didn’t come out right.”
3. The Moment of Massive Revelation
Buffy and I were curled up together on her couch in our cutest pjs with ice cream and cookies. My pjs were flannel with bunnies - the stuff of Anya's worst nightmares. Buffy was wearing a tight blue superman logo t-shirt and matching boxers. So cute. Sigh.
Now that I realised I was in serious lust with my best friend I was beginning to wonder how much more that really meant, if anything. I mean, I know I love Buffy. As a best friend. And I now know I lust after Buffy. As a…lust object. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I’m in love with her. In love means so much more than those two factors combined.
“So how are you going, Will, with the whole…” here the Slayer paused and stumbled over her words a little. She looked sideways at me through her bangs. “The whole, er Oz fiango. How are you these days?”
“Peachy keen,” I replied without really thinking. After all it wasn’t like I was hung up on Oz right at that moment. I mean, I had been for the longest time. I’d moped around, cried my eyes out and mourned like Oz had died or something and I still missed him, heaps and heaps. I guess part of me was hoping he’d come back and be right smart about it. On some level I needed him with me.
Yet on another, equally real level, I had opened a door that night with my sudden self-awareness of my attraction to Buffy. And that open door and what I might see if I peeked into it was holding all my attention.
The gayness of it wasn’t an issue. I’ve suspected that on and off since my skanky doppelganger turned up and tried to turn the Willow-Whammy on me. I’ve noticed myself noticing cute girls in a whole new way and it hasn’t been bad, it’s been…interesting. I suppose that means I’m gay, the being attracted to girls and all but that doesn’t mean what I had with Oz wasn’t real and wonderful and true love. And I sure as heck know I was attracted to Xander for years and years. So where does that leave me? On the Bi-way? Do labels even cover what us humans can be?
“Deep thoughts?” Buffy slurped up a giant scoop of ice cream and continued to eye me. “I can practically see the light bulb over your head.”
“The deepest,” I replied, shifting a little so that I was cross legged, facing her. “I’m fine about Oz, Buffy. It’s taken me a long time but I think the worst of the grief has passed. I hope. Here’s hopin’,” I took a giant scoop of ice cream myself to prove my point.
“I’m glad,” she said sincerely. “I’ve been worried about you.”
“Thanks,” I said, warmed by her concern as always. “Hey, can I ask you a question? Warning, there’s serious wig-potential here.”
“Ooh, that makes it all the more interesting,” she smirked back. “Hit it. Wig me out.”
“Well, I’ve been uh reminiscing about evil me.”
“Evil, skanky, ‘I get off on hurting puppies’ you?”
“Uh huh. You remember how evil me was kinda er gay…”
“You mean rip roaring, ‘I vant to seduce you and suck your blood and I vant it now’ gay.”
“Uh huh. And you remember what Angel said when I asked you about that?”
“You remember? I was trying to distract you from that.”
“Yeah, so I’ve been ah, noticing, um girls, just lately…”
Buffy stared. Her spoon hand paused midway to her mouth. “Really? Noticing? Noticing how?”
“Noticing details like um their hair shall we say. How nice it is. Well not every girl’s hair. Some girls don’t wash theirs much after all and then it gets greasy and I don’t notice it except for ‘Ooh that’s disgusting’ but some girls do wash it and sometimes I think about how soft and shiny it is. Like a shampoo ad.”
I could feel sweat beads breaking out on my upper lip as I waited for Buffy’s reaction. The Slayer was staring back at me, blue-grey eyes unreadable. Desperately I babbled on.
“And their bodies. Parts of their bodies. Not their hands or anything ‘though some girls have the nicest fingers, just their well, legs and their y’know!” I made a flowing gesture over my own endowments to illustrate the point.
Buffy blushed. “Oh! Oh wow. Wow, Will, that’s…wow.”
I pointed my finger accusingly at the Slayer. “You’re wigging. You’re majorly wigging. I can tell!”
“Am not.” Buffy’s right eyebrow hiked just a little as she stared back at me, the way that I knew meant she was lying through her teeth. “Why would I wig? There’s no wigging here. Only surprise, shock and hey, more surprise.”
“You’re surprised?” I was genuinely surprised to hear that. “But what about evil skanky Willow?”
“What about her?” Buffy demanded, jumping to her feet and beginning to pace the lounge room restlessly. I watched her, feeling helpless. I so didn’t want my best friend to wig and she definitely was wigging. Nervous energy poured off her. There was a long silence between us as I steeled myself for what was about to come. Finally I spoke.
“You already know what.” This I said in a very small voice, pressing myself back into the couch, wishing it would turn into a couch-monster and swallow me up (not outside the realm of possibility in Sunnyhell). “Maybe I should go.”
“Willow, no!” Buffy was at my side in an instant, sitting on the couch arm and reaching out a tentative hand to touch my arm. “I don’t mean…I’m not saying that…this is all so new and…completely unexpected. Just, give me time. I’ll adjust. We’ll all adjust.”
“Adjust?” I whispered, staring at the floor. “Now I’m something that you have to adjust to?”
“No!” Buffy sounded upset and frustrated. I didn’t dare risk looking up at her. My eyes were filling with tears and I didn’t want them to spill and run down my cheeks. “That’s not what I mean at all. God, this is so hard.”
“You’re telling me,” I muttered. Buffy was instantly contrite.
“Look, Will, I’m sorry. I am wigging out and it’s completely inappropriate. I mean I should be all supportive-Buffy and ‘lean on my shoulder’ and telling stories about Faith’s many come-ons. It’s just really a shock is all. I wasn’t expecting you to say this. I had no idea.”
Wait a second. ‘Faith’s many come-ons’? I opened my mouth to query this but Buffy rushed on like a steamroller.
“I’m sorry but I don’t think of you and evil
I risked a glance up at her and our eyes met and held. We were both crying. “Buffy, it’s not like I realised this ‘till really, really recently. I’m shocked too. And scared. And I just, I just really need you now, please don’t reject me and…”
“
“Good,” I sniffled, “and ow, please let go Buffy, I believe you.” She did let go of my arm, only to hop back down on the couch and embrace me in a side hug. At that we both dissolved into tears. I clung to her, relieved beyond words that our friendship had weathered this revelation.
4. The Morning After the Massive Revelation
So after all that crying we must have fallen asleep and I'm making that brilliant deduction on the basis that we never made it to our sleeping bags. Uh, I don't mean that in the context of 'we didn't make it to the bed 'cause we were too busy doing it on the floor'. No! And more's the pity too.
What I mean is I woke up to find myself lying on the couch, with Buffy. Yay me! My head was sorta pillowed on her hip and hers was resting on the couch arm. I had one arm wrapped possessively around her bare thighs and as soon as I woke, that was all I was thinking about. Buffy's thighs are very nice you see, very uh tight and muscular in an understated way.
That's Buffy all over of course. She's incredibly strong, what with the Slayer-strength, and it has affected her physique but it's like not overly obvious so it's almost a secret weapon. An analogy would be that Dean Cain guy playing Clark
Buffy's like that. And so are her thighs. It's not everyday I get to feel those thighs because the whole upper leg region isn't really one of the allowable touching areas between best friends. I think that's in the manual somewhere.
Sorry, sorry, babbling, very distracted here. Buffy's legs are just so...I'm licking my lips and I'm very warm and happy and I'm so ignoring the cramp my shoulder is getting because I'm just going to suck everything I can out of this moment and...
Buffy woke up. I could tell the instant she did because her whole body went tense. There was a long silent stillness between us - me holding my breath (don't ask me why) and her not showing any reaction, not even opening her eyes. I suppose she was using her Slayer-sense to ascertain where she was and what was happening. Me, I was just interested in her upcoming reaction.
"Morning," she finally said. Her eyes opened and she looked down the couch to me.
"Morning," I replied, having the sense to release her thighs and scuttle into a seated position. My shoulder was screaming at me and with a noteworthy cringe I started massaging it desperately. Buffy meanwhile stretched languorously, still in her reclining position. First her arms up over her head and I couldn't help noticing her tight t-shirt riding up to reveal some taught stomach and to emphasise her breasts. Realising a second later where my gaze had just been had me leaping to my feet and rubbing my shoulder even more vigorously, feeling the heat colour my face as red as my hair.
Buffy kept stretching, now her legs - those bare thighs, smooth calves and her toes pointed like a dancer and finally, mercifully she ended it with a small satisfied mewl. She looked up at me and her eyes were veiled - I honestly could not tell what she was thinking, even with my power of best-friend-experience. She flashed an innocent smile at me and sat up. "Cookies?" she asked. "For breakfast?"
"Um," I said. "Um."
"I'll take that as a, 'bring me cookies now'," the Slayer decided and flounced out of the room. I stared after her. 'Um,' my brain said, 'Um. Um, what the heck was that? Was that a come on? Was that a come on and touch me now, yeah, right there, uhh, so good, like that baby?'
I trailed after the Slayer, my brain churning furiously and coming up with, oh, nothing useful. To say I was confused would be an understatement. I was warring between confusion, bafflement, hope, blazing hope, disappointment, hunger of both kinds and raging, raging lust.
I still didn't know if I was in love with Buffy.
And just say I was in love with her – what level of love were we talking? Crush? One-nighter hot steamy love? College experience? Friendship taken to new level? Maybe…epic? I would like me an epic love!
Of course, telling her at some point would be a good idea. Okay, panic! Bad idea, makes it hard to breathe, fills me with PANIC! If I get through breakfast without fainting into my cornflakes it’s gonna be a miracle.
TBC
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