Three Sheets
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Andrew/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
2,547
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Andrew/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
2,547
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Buffy the Vampire Slayer (BtVS), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Splendor
Part 2 - Splendor
“Happy Birthday,” a Misha n crn croaked throatily and kissed Gunn twice on each cheek. When she finished, the three men watching had to swallow hard and shifted their legs to hide distinct bulges.
“The Misha *are* rather gifted at well-wishing, aren’t they?” Wes finally choked out, attempting a semblance of propriety.
“Yeah,” Xander agreed. Andrew didn’t answer, just continued to stare at the pink-skinned demon with three large breasts that had greeted them at the door.
“Andrew? Sure you don’t want to change your mind?” Wesley asked. “The Misha are a beautiful and generous species. I’m sure you would not be disappointed.” The demon turned to the young men and smiled softly. Andrew looked tempted.
“Yeah,” Xander added, “she seems…nice.” Andrew looked at Xander’s nervous face and made up his mind.
“No, we said we’d *both* try the Rushmah.” Andrew seemed pleased with his decision and swayed unsteadily on his legs before sinking down to a nearby chair. The waiting room, for lack of a better name, was surprisingly sparse. Deep blue walls and thickly padded armchairs leant the room a distinctive appeal. Besides the furnishings, there were few adornments. It could have been the waiting room of any suburban dentist’s office, except for the tall, tri-breasted woman that turned her attention from greeting Gunn to the rest of the room’s clientele.
“The Rushmah? An excellent choice,” she purred. “Gentlemen,” the demon nodded to Wes and Gunn, “come with me. I’ll send someone to escort your friends to the Rushmah. Wait here, please.”
“You guys gonna be okay?” Gunn asked as he gathered his coat.
“No! I think I need to get the hell out of here because I think Willow’s pills are wearing off, if they ever even worked, and I’m becoming entirely too sober for something like this,” is what Xander wanted to say. Instead he shrugged his shoulders at Andrew and said, “I’m cool.”
Before Xander could suggest that he stay in the lobby to man the coats while the others got, er, serviced, Gunn and Wes were gone and he was alone with Andrew. His stomach burned nervously.
“So…T’Pol, huh?” Andrew looked at him, startled.
“Yeah, only now I think you might have had the right idea. You know…Lara Croft. She’s hot.” Andrew picnervnervously at the zipper of his jacket.
“Well, T’Pol seems like a good idea, too,” Xander offered. Maybe it was just the alcohol, but Andrew’s eyes had never seemed so blue. He’d noticed they were blue cou course. He had been admiring them, truth be told, for a long time. They were much better than his own plain brown ones, he thought. But tonight, Andrew’s seemed especially blue.
And his hair. His hair stuck out in odd directions, too. The blond-haired man had taken to using Angel’s hair gel since they’d come to visit, but the rain had left it in gummy spikes that stuck out at irregular angles. Xander reached to smooth one clump that jutted forward like a defiant unicorn horn. It stubbornly refused to be moved and Xander ran his fingers through the clump to brake it up.
Andrew’s head dipped forward until his chin rested on his chest. Probably going to pass out now, Xander thought. He continued to run his fingers through the sticky spikes, feeling the warm heat of Andrew’s skin under his fingers. Nice and toasty. Little fireball. Xander stroked the head of his little fireball and wondered if Andy would mind a nickname. Xander’d always wanted one. Like Chief. Or Scout. Or something without a Native American connotation, like Tiger.
“Xander?”
Xander suddenly realized that he was fondling the hair of another man without express permission. He pulled his hand back as if scalded. “Your hair was—I mean I didn’t want you looking bad when you met T’Pol. Or Laura Croft. Whichever you decide, you know?” Xander’s sputtering explanation stopped when he realized that Andrew wasn’t looking at him.
He followed Andrew’s gaze. A blue skinned demon, nearly as attractive as the first they’d met, was motioning for them to follow. With a last nervous glance at Andrew, Xander stood and the two men began to trail behind her.
“This is your first tiiime,” the demon said as they walked.
It wasn’t a question but Andrew answered, “Yeah. This place is cool. Um, how long have you worked here?” The Mishan’t n’t answer, only smiled.
After they passed what seemed to be a dozen doors, the demon stopped innt ont of one plain entrance.
“Who will take this dooor?” Both men looked at each other. When Xander was about to reach into his pocket to retrieve a quarter for the obligatory round of “heads or tails,” the demon sighed impatiently and grasped Xander by the shoulder in a surprisingly strong grip. “You.”
“Me?” he gulped. “Okay, uh, see ya later, Andrew. Um, have fune gre grabbed the doorknob with one sweaty hand and hesitantly entered the darkened room TBC TBC...
“Happy Birthday,” a Misha n crn croaked throatily and kissed Gunn twice on each cheek. When she finished, the three men watching had to swallow hard and shifted their legs to hide distinct bulges.
“The Misha *are* rather gifted at well-wishing, aren’t they?” Wes finally choked out, attempting a semblance of propriety.
“Yeah,” Xander agreed. Andrew didn’t answer, just continued to stare at the pink-skinned demon with three large breasts that had greeted them at the door.
“Andrew? Sure you don’t want to change your mind?” Wesley asked. “The Misha are a beautiful and generous species. I’m sure you would not be disappointed.” The demon turned to the young men and smiled softly. Andrew looked tempted.
“Yeah,” Xander added, “she seems…nice.” Andrew looked at Xander’s nervous face and made up his mind.
“No, we said we’d *both* try the Rushmah.” Andrew seemed pleased with his decision and swayed unsteadily on his legs before sinking down to a nearby chair. The waiting room, for lack of a better name, was surprisingly sparse. Deep blue walls and thickly padded armchairs leant the room a distinctive appeal. Besides the furnishings, there were few adornments. It could have been the waiting room of any suburban dentist’s office, except for the tall, tri-breasted woman that turned her attention from greeting Gunn to the rest of the room’s clientele.
“The Rushmah? An excellent choice,” she purred. “Gentlemen,” the demon nodded to Wes and Gunn, “come with me. I’ll send someone to escort your friends to the Rushmah. Wait here, please.”
“You guys gonna be okay?” Gunn asked as he gathered his coat.
“No! I think I need to get the hell out of here because I think Willow’s pills are wearing off, if they ever even worked, and I’m becoming entirely too sober for something like this,” is what Xander wanted to say. Instead he shrugged his shoulders at Andrew and said, “I’m cool.”
Before Xander could suggest that he stay in the lobby to man the coats while the others got, er, serviced, Gunn and Wes were gone and he was alone with Andrew. His stomach burned nervously.
“So…T’Pol, huh?” Andrew looked at him, startled.
“Yeah, only now I think you might have had the right idea. You know…Lara Croft. She’s hot.” Andrew picnervnervously at the zipper of his jacket.
“Well, T’Pol seems like a good idea, too,” Xander offered. Maybe it was just the alcohol, but Andrew’s eyes had never seemed so blue. He’d noticed they were blue cou course. He had been admiring them, truth be told, for a long time. They were much better than his own plain brown ones, he thought. But tonight, Andrew’s seemed especially blue.
And his hair. His hair stuck out in odd directions, too. The blond-haired man had taken to using Angel’s hair gel since they’d come to visit, but the rain had left it in gummy spikes that stuck out at irregular angles. Xander reached to smooth one clump that jutted forward like a defiant unicorn horn. It stubbornly refused to be moved and Xander ran his fingers through the clump to brake it up.
Andrew’s head dipped forward until his chin rested on his chest. Probably going to pass out now, Xander thought. He continued to run his fingers through the sticky spikes, feeling the warm heat of Andrew’s skin under his fingers. Nice and toasty. Little fireball. Xander stroked the head of his little fireball and wondered if Andy would mind a nickname. Xander’d always wanted one. Like Chief. Or Scout. Or something without a Native American connotation, like Tiger.
“Xander?”
Xander suddenly realized that he was fondling the hair of another man without express permission. He pulled his hand back as if scalded. “Your hair was—I mean I didn’t want you looking bad when you met T’Pol. Or Laura Croft. Whichever you decide, you know?” Xander’s sputtering explanation stopped when he realized that Andrew wasn’t looking at him.
He followed Andrew’s gaze. A blue skinned demon, nearly as attractive as the first they’d met, was motioning for them to follow. With a last nervous glance at Andrew, Xander stood and the two men began to trail behind her.
“This is your first tiiime,” the demon said as they walked.
It wasn’t a question but Andrew answered, “Yeah. This place is cool. Um, how long have you worked here?” The Mishan’t n’t answer, only smiled.
After they passed what seemed to be a dozen doors, the demon stopped innt ont of one plain entrance.
“Who will take this dooor?” Both men looked at each other. When Xander was about to reach into his pocket to retrieve a quarter for the obligatory round of “heads or tails,” the demon sighed impatiently and grasped Xander by the shoulder in a surprisingly strong grip. “You.”
“Me?” he gulped. “Okay, uh, see ya later, Andrew. Um, have fune gre grabbed the doorknob with one sweaty hand and hesitantly entered the darkened room TBC TBC...