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It was Spike's ass, hovering in front of his face, that made Xander realise he was bisexual. Buffy had used whatever bribe or threat would work to get Spike up a ladder to put up Christmas decorations, and his ass was just so... there. Not that he wanted to do anything to Spike's ass. Really. Spike was an asshole... a pain in the ass... that train of thought could only lead to badness. Still, the connection had been made: Spike had a nice ass, and once Xander had realised that, and come to terms with it, he began to notice other nice asses.
Andrew's ass. A little skinny, but not bad. Andrew was also very obviously available for all sorts of same-sex experimentation. Xander rather got the feeling that Andrew would be the clingy type though. And after narrowly escaping from Anya, Xander wasn't really looking for another journey on the commitment train.
Giles' ass. Disturbingly hot. Disturbing because Xander had sort of seen Giles as a surrogate father during his teenage years, and looking at him and thinking 'I wonder if he's really a tight-ass' made him hard and nauseated at the same time.
Which lead back to Spike, there being a distinct lack of men in the vicinity. For a few minutes Xander wondered if all the estrogen in the air had mutated him, or someone had put something in the eggnog. After all, stranger things had happened in Sunnydale. He finally came to the conclusion that no, this was just your average everyday identity crisis, and Spike had a very fuckable ass.
Kennedy also had a fuckable ass. As did Buffy, and that whiny chick whose name he could never remember. Suddenly people just kept bending over in front of him, and he was walking around half-hard all the time. Dawn's ass squeezed into the tiny hipsters she got for Christmas, for five minutes before Buffy saw and freaked out. A creamy slice of Andrew's ass exposed by a too-small towel after his shower. A whole row of potential slayer asses, swaying in synchronised fighting moves in the garden...
"Very fuckin' scenic."
Xander turned around, and there was Spike in the shadows. "Yeah."
"To be honest I'm getting sick of it. Nothing puts you off women like having the damn things around all the time."
Xander grinned. "The squealing."
"The fifty brands of clashing perfume."
"No hot water. Ever."
"The way they can eat their entire weight in frozen cheesecake at 4am."
"The feminine hygiene products!"
Spike cocked his head to one side. "Actually, that's not really a turn off for vampires."
Xander thought about that for a moment, and pulled a face. "Thanks."
Spike chuckled, and lit a cigarette. "If the squealing and hygiene get too much for you, come down to the cellar."
Xander blinked. "Are we male-bonding?"
Spike shrugged. "Times like this," he waved at the potentials, "a man feels the need to assert his masculinity."
"What? Belching, watching sports and eating big chunks of beef?"
Spike's grin was very white as slipped further back into the shadows of the kitchen. "Oh yeah. Except for the belching and sports."
Xander sat down and pondered that parting shot. He came to the conclusion that there were three ways to take it: the innocent way, the dirty way and the potentially fatal way.
"Fuck it, not bad odds..."