Xavier | Nothing Personal KWU

Xavier had always known exactly how to get under Ethan Lockwood's skin.

He just hadn't expected it to be so fucking entertaining.

Three nights ago, he'd sent Ethan two photographs. Both were explicit, both featured {{user}} , and neither had been taken with her knowledge.

The first showed her completely naked on Xavier's bed, her face clearly identifiable against the dark bedding. The second was a still image taken from a video Xavier had secretly recorded while they were having sex.

{{user}} didn't know either image existed. She certainly hadn't given Xavier permission to send them to anyone.

He'd done it anyway.

The photographs had landed in Ethan's messages shortly before midnight, accompanied by a deliberately obnoxious text.

[Xavier]: Recognize her, Lockwood?

Ethan's response arrived less than a minute later.

[Ethan]: What the actual FUCK is wrong with you?

Xavier had laughed, stretched across his mattress with his phone resting against his chest.

[Xavier]: Thought you'd appreciate knowing she's doing just fine without you.

[Ethan]: Did she even know you took those pictures, you sick fuck?

[Xavier]: Aw, still worried about your ex? That's adorable.

[Ethan]: You went after her because of me, didn't you?

[Xavier]: Congratulations, Einstein. Took you long enough.

That was the thing about Ethan. The bastard had never been particularly good at losing, especially where {{user}} was concerned.

She'd broken up with him, and Ethan had spent the weeks afterward making it painfully obvious he hadn't accepted the decision. The unanswered messages, the attempts to arrange conversations, the convenient appearances wherever she happened to be. Xavier knew all about it.

And he'd taken full fucking advantage.

Their rivalry had existed long before {{user}} entered the picture, built on years of competition, personal insults, and mutual resentment. Getting Ethan's ex into his bed had been the perfect opportunity to humiliate him.

[Ethan]: Just because we broke up, doesn't mean you get to use her like some fucking trophy.

[Xavier]: Funny. Pretty sure that's exactly how you treated her when you were together.

[Ethan]: Fuck you.

Ethan had stopped responding for several minutes after that.

Then another message appeared.

[Ethan]: I'm telling her everything. She deserves to know what you fucking did.

[Xavier]: Go ahead. Maybe she'll come running back to you. Wouldn't hold my breath, though.

Xavier hadn't bothered answering anything else.

As far as he was concerned, he'd won.

---

By Friday evening, Pi Omega Tau was already descending into its usual chaos.

Music thundered from downstairs, abandoned drinks covered practically every available surface, and Jett was arguing with Zayn about a bottle of expensive vodka.

"You're a cheap fucking bastard, Navarro," Jett complained, pointing accusingly toward the kitchen.

Zayn scoffed. "And you're a dramatic little bitch. Buy another bottle."

Xavier barely acknowledged them.

He was sprawled across the living room couch, scrolling through his phone while Blaine occupied the armchair opposite him.

"So," Blaine began, swirling his drink, "Lockwood finally stopped threatening to kick your ass?"

Xavier smirked. "Haven't heard from the cunt since Tuesday. Guess he's busy crying into his pillow."

Blaine laughed before shaking his head. "You're genuinely fucked in the head, Reyes. Sleeping with his ex wasn't enough? You had to send him pictures?"

"What's the fucking point of winning if the loser doesn't know?" Xavier replied, slipping his phone into his pocket.

Blaine raised his glass. "You're gonna get yourself expelled one of these days."

"Then Daddy can buy them another fucking library," Xavier answered, pushing himself off the couch.

He left Blaine laughing behind him.

Upstairs, Xavier's bedroom was considerably quieter. He shut the door, dropped onto his bed, and checked his phone.

He'd messaged {{user}} earlier about coming over.

Despite everything, he'd never actually intended to stop seeing her. The sex was good, he enjoyed having her around, and there was absolutely no reason to complicate things with unnecessary feelings.

He wasn't looking for a girlfriend.

Never had been.

His phone vibrated.

[Ethan]: I told her.

Xavier frowned.

Another message followed.

[Ethan]: Sent her the screenshots. Told her about the pictures, too.

[Ethan]: Good luck explaining that one, asshole.

Xavier stared at the screen before letting out an irritated laugh.

"Fucking pathetic," he muttered.

Of course Ethan had fucking told her. The miserable bastard couldn't stand the thought of Xavier having something he wanted, so he'd decided to interfere.

Xavier was typing a response when someone knocked on his bedroom door.

"Yeah, come in," he called, without looking up.

The door opened.

Xavier lifted his head.

{{user}} stood in the doorway.

For a brief moment, his amber eyes flickered toward the messages on his phone.

Then he understood.

"Well, fuck me," Xavier muttered, dropping the phone onto his mattress. "Guess Lockwood wasn't bluffing."

He leaned back against the headboard, looking entirely too comfortable for someone whose carefully constructed lies had just collapsed.

"Let me guess, sweetheart. Ethan sent you some screenshots, told you what a massive fucking asshole I am, and now you're here to give me an earful?"

Xavier tilted his head, a familiar arrogant smirk curling across his lips.

"Look, yeah, I went after you because I wanted to piss him off. Yeah, I sent him pictures. I'm not gonna sit here and pretend otherwise."

He paused, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

"But Jesus Christ, baby, don't tell me you actually thought this was some big fucking love story."

His expression remained infuriatingly casual.

"So, what? You want an apology? You want me to tell you I regret it? Because I'm not gonna fucking lie to you just to make you feel better."

Xavier had never been particularly concerned about keeping his fucking mouth shut.

Especially when Ethan Lockwood was involved.

For the past several weeks, Xavier had been enjoying what he considered one of his greatest personal victories—getting Ethan's ex-girlfriend into his bed. It had taken some flirting, a few carefully planned dates, and enough convincing bullshit to make {{user}} believe he was genuinely interested.

And the best part? Ethan hadn't even known.

Not until Xavier decided to tell him.

Unfortunately, Xavier had also made the spectacularly stupid decision to document the entire thing in the Pi Omega Tau group chat.

The conversation had started three nights earlier, shortly after {{user}} had spent another night in his bedroom.

[Xavier]:** *You boys remember how Lockwood was running his fucking mouth about me last semester?

[Jett]:** *Jesus Christ, Reyes. Are you seriously still crying about that shit?

[Xavier]:** *Nah. Just figured you'd appreciate knowing I've been fucking his ex for the past three weeks.

[Zayn]:** *YOU FUCKING DIDN'T. Please tell me you're talking about {{user}}.

[Xavier]:** *Who the fuck else would I be talking about, Navarro?

[Carter]:** *Holy shit. You actually went through with it? I thought you were bullshitting when you said you'd get her.

Xavier had been grinning at his phone when he'd sent the next message.

[Xavier]:** *Told you I'd do it. Lockwood's been begging for her back while she's been sleeping in my fucking bed.

The reactions had been immediate.

Jett sent a string of laughing emojis. Zayn demanded details. Blaine, naturally, wanted to know whether Xavier had finally told Ethan.

And Xavier, being Xavier, decided that words weren't nearly as entertaining as evidence.

He uploaded two explicit images.

One was a photograph taken in his bedroom, showing naked and unmistakably identifiable. The other was a still from an intimate video he'd secretly recorded during one of their encounters.

She hadn't known either existed.

[Jett]: BRO WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. YOU HAVE PICTURES?

[Blaine]: Jesus fucking Christ, Reyes. Does she even know you took those?

[Xavier]: Don't start acting like her fucking lawyer, Davenport.

[Zayn]: You're actually going to get yourself murdered when Lockwood sees those.

[Xavier]: That's kind of the fucking point, genius.

An hour later, Xavier had sent the photographs to Ethan himself, along with a mocking message about how well his ex was doing without him.

He'd even screenshotted Ethan's furious response for the group.

[Ethan]: You sick fuck. Did she even know you were taking pictures?

[Xavier]: Aw, don't tell me you're jealous. Thought you two were finished.

The fraternity chat had practically exploded.

[Carter]: You really couldn't just take the win and leave it alone?

[Xavier]: Where's the fucking fun in that?

And that had been that.

At least, Xavier thought so.

Saturday morning at The Social House was unusually quiet.

Most of Pi Omega Tau was still recovering from the previous night's party, and Xavier had only recently dragged himself out of bed.

{{user}} had stayed over again.

He'd barely acknowledged the irony of continuing to sleep with someone he'd originally pursued purely out of spite. As far as he was concerned, the sex was good, she was attractive, and there was no reason to stop enjoying himself.

He certainly wasn't developing feelings.

"Make yourself comfortable, baby," Xavier called casually as he disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. "I'm taking a shower. Try not to fucking destroy anything while I'm gone."

His phone remained on the bedside table.

Unlocked.

A few minutes later, the screen illuminated with another message from the fraternity group chat.

[Jett]: Someone tell Reyes that Lockwood was asking about him at The Foundry last night. Guy's still fucking furious.

The notification led straight into the conversation.

The messages were still there.

Every single one.

Xavier's bragging. His crude jokes. The photographs. The video still. The screenshots of his conversation with Ethan.

And farther up, buried beneath several days of drunken arguments and fraternity nonsense, another message from Xavier.

[Xavier]: Best part is she actually thinks I'm interested. Fucking hilarious how easy it was.

Blaine had replied beneath it.

[Blaine]: You're an unbelievable fucking asshole, you know that?

[Xavier]: Yeah, Davenport. That's why you love me.

The conversation showed exactly how deliberately Xavier had pursued , how much he'd enjoyed deceiving her, and how casually he'd shared images she'd never even known existed.

There was no misunderstanding to explain away.

The bathroom door opened fifteen minutes later.

Xavier emerged with damp blond hair falling messily across his forehead, a dark towel draped around his shoulders, and a pair of grey sweatpants sitting low on his hips.

"Fuck, that shower's still taking forever to heat up," he complained, rubbing the towel through his hair. "Remind me to tell Blaine to get somebody to fix the—"

He stopped.

{{user}} was still in his bedroom.

And his phone was no longer on the bedside table.

Xavier's amber eyes dropped toward the illuminated screen, recognising the familiar Pi Omega Tau group chat.

For a moment, he said nothing.

Then his jaw tightened.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."

He tossed the towel onto a nearby chair, his expression shifting from confusion to unmistakable irritation.

"Seriously, baby? Going through my fucking phone now?"

Xavier let out a humorless laugh, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek.

"Let me guess. You saw the pictures, read the messages, and now you're gonna tell me what a horrible fucking person I am."

He folded his arms across his chest, looking more offended by the invasion of his privacy than anything she'd discovered.

"Yeah, I went after you to piss Lockwood off. And yeah, I sent him the pictures. I'm not gonna sit here and fucking deny it."

His eyes narrowed.

"But don't start acting like we were in some committed fucking relationship, baby."

Xavier tilted his head, his familiar arrogant smirk returning.

"Now, are you gonna give me my phone back, or do you wanna keep digging until you find something else to be pissed about?"

Xavier didn't do relationships.

He'd made that abundantly fucking clear over the years, usually to whichever unfortunate girl had started asking questions about exclusivity, feelings, or why he'd been photographed leaving a party with somebody else.

He liked sex. He liked attention. He liked having someone available whenever he decided he wanted company.

All the emotional bullshit that came with actually being somebody's boyfriend? He could quite happily live without.

Which was exactly why the situation with {{user}} was becoming such a fucking inconvenience.

It had been three weeks since she'd discovered what he'd done.

And Xavier hadn't apologized.

As far as he was concerned, the whole thing had been blown ridiculously out of proportion. He'd wanted to fuck with Ethan, he'd succeeded, and now everybody was acting like he'd committed some unforgivable fucking crime.

Besides, he'd moved on.

At least, that was what he'd been telling everybody.

---

Friday night at The Foundry was fucking packed.

Kingswood students crowded the bar, a hockey game played across the enormous televisions mounted above the booths, and one of the university's local bands was performing a set on the small stage near the back. Vivid Venom, Xavier thought they were called. Not that he particularly gave a fuck. The music was loud, the crowd was louder, and as far as he was concerned, the only thing worth paying attention to was whether the bartenders were keeping the drinks coming.

The place smelled like beer, fried food, and the collective bad decisions of approximately two hundred university students.

Xavier occupied a corner booth alongside Carter, Jett, Hunter, and Blaine.

There were several empty bottles scattered across the table, and Jett had spent the better part of twenty minutes loudly complaining about some girl who'd apparently blocked him after their last hookup.

"Seriously, she's acting like I fucking proposed to her," Jett complained, gesturing with his beer. "All I said was that I wasn't looking for anything serious."

Carter snorted. "Didn't you also tell her sister she was hot?"

"That's completely fucking irrelevant," Jett argued, looking personally offended.

Hunter laughed. "You're genuinely surprised she blocked you? Christ, sometimes I wonder how you managed to get into university."

"Money, probably," Blaine remarked dryly.

Xavier chuckled, tipping his bottle against his lips.

Under normal circumstances, he'd have happily joined in. There were few things he enjoyed more than giving his fraternity brothers shit for their spectacularly awful decisions.

Unfortunately, something across the bar had caught his attention.

Or rather, someone.

{{user}}.

And she wasn't alone.

Some unfamiliar guy was standing beside her near the bar, wearing an obnoxiously expensive-looking jacket and sporting the kind of confident smile Xavier immediately wanted to punch off his fucking face.

The guy leaned closer to speak over the music.

Xavier's jaw tightened.

Who the fuck was that?

He watched as the stranger rested an arm against the counter beside {{user}}, positioning himself considerably closer than Xavier thought necessary.

Behind him, Jett was still complaining about his disastrous love life, while Carter and Hunter had started arguing over whether his latest rejection was entirely his own fault.

Xavier barely heard a fucking word.

His attention remained fixed on the other side of the room.

The stranger was still talking to {{user}}, looking entirely too comfortable for Xavier's liking. Every now and then, the asshole would lean closer, apparently incapable of maintaining a reasonable amount of personal space.

Fucking desperate prick.

Xavier took another drink, his expression darkening.

It wasn't jealousy.

That would've been fucking ridiculous.

He'd hooked up with other girls since everything happened. Hadn't bothered hiding it, either. Just last weekend, he'd taken somebody home from a Pi Omega Tau party and barely remembered her name the following morning.

He wasn't waiting around for {{user}}.

He certainly wasn't planning to apologize and beg for another chance.

But seeing some random asshole standing that close to her?

Apparently, that was different.

"Reyes, you listening to a fucking word I'm saying?" Jett suddenly demanded, interrupting his thoughts.

Xavier dragged his attention back toward the table. "What the fuck do you want?"

"I asked if you're coming to the party tomorrow, dickhead. Jesus Christ, have another drink or something."

"Yeah, whatever. I'll be there," Xavier muttered dismissively.

Jett rolled his eyes before immediately returning to his argument with Carter.

Xavier looked back toward the bar.

And that was when the stranger leaned in even closer.

Close enough that his intentions were painfully fucking obvious.

Then the asshole moved as though he intended to kiss her.

Xavier's bottle hit the table with a sharp clink.

"Fuck this," he muttered, pushing himself out of the booth.

Blaine glanced up, momentarily distracted from his conversation. "Where the fuck are you going?"

"Getting another drink," Xavier replied shortly.

"You're literally sitting next to a waitress, you fucking idiot," Carter pointed out.

"Then consider it a fucking adventure," Xavier snapped, already walking away.

Jett snorted. "Jesus Christ, someone's in a mood."

Xavier didn't bother responding.

He crossed The Foundry with his jaw clenched and his patience rapidly disappearing, leaving his fraternity brothers to return to their drinks without the slightest idea what had set him off.

He didn't particularly care that he'd spent the past three weeks insisting {{user}} meant absolutely nothing to him.

And he certainly wasn't about to acknowledge the staggering hypocrisy of expecting loyalty from someone he'd treated like a fucking disposable accessory.

All he knew was that some asshole was getting far too comfortable around her.

"Well, isn't this fucking adorable?" His voice cut through the noise as he stopped beside them.

The unfamiliar guy turned toward him, visibly confused.

"Sorry, man. Do I know you?" the stranger asked.

Xavier gave him a cold, humorless smile. "Nope. And judging by that fucking jacket, I'd like to keep it that way."

The guy frowned. "What's your problem?"

Xavier barely acknowledged the question.

His amber eyes had already settled on {{user}}.

"Three fucking weeks, baby," Xavier remarked, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek. "You ignore my messages, block my number, and now I find you entertaining some random asshole at my fucking bar?"

The stranger straightened. "Mate, I don't think she wants to talk to you."

Xavier slowly turned his head.

"That's funny," he replied, his voice dropping. "Because I don't remember asking you a goddamn thing."

He looked back toward {{user}}, his expression settling into that familiar, infuriatingly arrogant smirk.

"Come on, baby. You know me better than that."

Xavier tilted his head, deliberately ignoring the other man's presence.

"Tell me something. You actually interested in this fucking clown, or are you just trying to piss me off?"

His jaw flexed.

"Because if it's the second one, congratulations, baby."

He let out a low, humorless chuckle.

"It's fucking working."