Three Sheets
folder
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Andrew/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
2,548
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Buffy the Vampire Slayer › Slash - Male/Male › Andrew/Xander
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
7
Views:
2,548
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.
Behind Closed Doors
Part 3-Behind Closed Doors
Darkness. He could see little else. Xander groped for a lightswitch but his hands couldn’t find anything of substance. Not a lightswitch, not a wall, not even the door he’d just come through. He was beginning to have a serious wiggins.
“Hello?” his voice echoed. When he was about to start screaming at the top of his lungs, masculinity be damned, a voice spoke. “Ch “Choose.”
“Huh?”
“Choose.”
With sudden clarity, Xander took in a shuddering breath. Choose. Like that part in Ghostbusters where they had to choose the form of their destroyer. Only now it wasn’t a destroyer; it was a fantasy. And Xander could hardly form a coherent thought in his drunken state. What was it he’d decided again? The alcohol he’d had on the way over was seriously catching up with him.
“Um, okay. Well, I think I’d…I…” Rain. Soft ripples on Andrew’s skin. I like brunettes, he’d said. “I want…see, there’s this movie called Tomb Raider…and…” Soft skin and warmth under his palm. T’Pol or Seven of Nine. Andrew pouring him a drink in the limousine, and the rain washing blue swirls of light against pale skin. Debating. Vulcan or Borg. Or Tomb Raider. “Or maybe, see there’s this television show—damn! This is really hard…” Hard. “Hard to decide, I mean. And I—”
“It has been chosen.”
“What? No, I mean, I didn’t—” There was a sudden solidity at his back and a thickness under his feet. And light. There was light. Light so strong, so blinding, that he had to shade his eye. When it adjusted, he realized he wasn’t actually outside. Well, of course he was *inside* Splendor, but he was also sort of outside, but inside—his mind boggled at the surreal nature and he decided to let the pleasant state of drunkenness sweep him into a consequence-free place.
He was under an awning, or gazebo of sorts. A cabana? Is that what they called it? He was leaning against the wall. On the other side the wall was removed, facing a perfect, sparkling blue ocean. The room was sparsely furnished with a bed, scattered chairs, and a few low tables. A large open shower stood in one corner. Xander looked down and his clothes brought reality in. Same jeans, same shirt, same coat still clutched in his hands. He dropped it on a table and shifted nervously.
“Um, Rushmah? So…do I need to *do* something or—”
“Xander, would you like a drink?” He whirled and found himself face to face—well, face to perfectly arranged spikes—with Andrew. In his hand he carried a large tropical drink with a paper umbrella and large chunks of fruit bobbing on the surface.
“Andrew?”
The blond-haired man gave him a soft, knowing smile. “Would you like a drink?”
He nodded, slowly catching on. The Rushmah. But the Rushmah was supposed to fulfill his wish and—
“I didn’t wish for ANDREW!” Xander fumed. “SO not gay!” The demon just smiled and handed the drink to Xander. He took it in two hands and held onto it for dear life. “You don’t understand. I—”
His words were cut off as the demon slid a wet, ice-chilled hand to Xander’s face. Xander shuddered at the shocking feel against his skin. He inhaled, preparing to protest, when he saw the demon move in and press heated lips to his own. With the first contact of the blonde’s lips, an electric shot of arousal shot from Xander’s groin to every appendage. The demon ground his lips to Xander’s until he was finally granted entrance and let a cool, dry tongue enter.
It wasn’t Andrew. That was the first thought that came to his mind. Andrew’s mouth would be warmer. And wetter. Probably tasting like whiskey tonight, but normally like bubble gum or cherry cola. And the “real” Andrew would be more hesitant. Would want *him* to lead. He’d probably make the same breathy moans that he did when he was intensely involved in a Playstation game and had only one more level to go before winning. As soon as the thought flitted through his head, he felt the demon’s tongue get warmer and distinctly wetter. The shorter man pressed to him moaned softly. Now that was more like the *real* Andrew.
The second thought that came to his mind could only be described as a rather blinding sense of panic and ohmygodwhatamIdoinglustingafterAndrewI’mstraight. With a panic stricken look on his face, Xander shoved the demon from him, stumbling backward in the loose sand and quickly wiping his mouth.
“That is NOT what I asked for. I wanted a spunky archeologist. Or maybe a Vulcan. I did NOT ask for *Andrew.*”
The Andrew-thing smiled again and said simply, “Yes, you did.”
“Did not!”
It was still Andrew’s body, but the voice changed until Xander recognized the voice that asked him to choose when he’d first entered. “You did. Your desire was written on your heart as strongly as this place.” At Xander’s confused look he went on. “You work among vampires, no?”
Xander nodded.
“This place-this sunlit place-is a sanctuary in your mind. Always bright, always sun-drenched, always safe. It is your fantasy. It has been your fantasy for many years. The safe haven for your heart. In this dream place, no vampire can exist. No harm can come. No duties need to be fulfi. Th. There is only you and the sea. The sand and the sun. And the one you love.”
“I *don’t* love Andrew.”
The Andrew-thing smiled indulgently. “Very well. You don’t love the child. But you desire him. *That* is apparent.”
“Is not!” Xander was aware that he sounded like a petulant five-year-old, but he couldn’t help it.
“No?” The Andrew-thing regained Andrew’s voice and said, “Are you sure? Are you sure that, in your most fevered *self pleasure* sessions, your Cabana Boy Fantasy never played out just this way? With just this star?”
“No,” he gulped. Not at all. Only once, when they’d first gotten to LA. And twice when they were driving here. And…
“Xander,” the demon said slowly. “Can I just say something? And then you can walk out the door if you want?” He drew closer to Xander and pulled him close to the bed. The demon crawled slowly backward until was completely on the bed. He lay sprawled across the white surface, shirt and pants loose and blowing slightly in the breeze. He ran one bare foot up Xander’s pantleg. Every muscle screamed at Xander to flee, except the one that appeared to gain control at the moment the Andrew-thing’s foot hit his leg.
“Okay,” he gulped.
“The door is locked, Xander. No one can come in without your permission.you you understand?”
“Well…”
“Xander, *no one ever has to know.* Not your British friend or your lawyer friend. Not even that boy you so eagerly claim *not* to love. What happens in Splendor, stays in Splendor.”
He made an appealing argument. Still…
“Come on, Xander,” The demon spoke, but it was clearly Andrew’s voice once again. It was a near-perfect recreation. “Please…,” the demon begged. “I want you to.”
Xander found himself tempted. Really tempted. For the first time he was able to entertain a fantasy he’d been harboring for months. It was something he couldn’t tell the others-would *never* tell Andrew, but…
The Andrew-thing rolled backward and ran one hand along the pronounced bulge between his legs while stretching the other above his head wantonly. “Please fuck me.”
Darkness. He could see little else. Xander groped for a lightswitch but his hands couldn’t find anything of substance. Not a lightswitch, not a wall, not even the door he’d just come through. He was beginning to have a serious wiggins.
“Hello?” his voice echoed. When he was about to start screaming at the top of his lungs, masculinity be damned, a voice spoke. “Ch “Choose.”
“Huh?”
“Choose.”
With sudden clarity, Xander took in a shuddering breath. Choose. Like that part in Ghostbusters where they had to choose the form of their destroyer. Only now it wasn’t a destroyer; it was a fantasy. And Xander could hardly form a coherent thought in his drunken state. What was it he’d decided again? The alcohol he’d had on the way over was seriously catching up with him.
“Um, okay. Well, I think I’d…I…” Rain. Soft ripples on Andrew’s skin. I like brunettes, he’d said. “I want…see, there’s this movie called Tomb Raider…and…” Soft skin and warmth under his palm. T’Pol or Seven of Nine. Andrew pouring him a drink in the limousine, and the rain washing blue swirls of light against pale skin. Debating. Vulcan or Borg. Or Tomb Raider. “Or maybe, see there’s this television show—damn! This is really hard…” Hard. “Hard to decide, I mean. And I—”
“It has been chosen.”
“What? No, I mean, I didn’t—” There was a sudden solidity at his back and a thickness under his feet. And light. There was light. Light so strong, so blinding, that he had to shade his eye. When it adjusted, he realized he wasn’t actually outside. Well, of course he was *inside* Splendor, but he was also sort of outside, but inside—his mind boggled at the surreal nature and he decided to let the pleasant state of drunkenness sweep him into a consequence-free place.
He was under an awning, or gazebo of sorts. A cabana? Is that what they called it? He was leaning against the wall. On the other side the wall was removed, facing a perfect, sparkling blue ocean. The room was sparsely furnished with a bed, scattered chairs, and a few low tables. A large open shower stood in one corner. Xander looked down and his clothes brought reality in. Same jeans, same shirt, same coat still clutched in his hands. He dropped it on a table and shifted nervously.
“Um, Rushmah? So…do I need to *do* something or—”
“Xander, would you like a drink?” He whirled and found himself face to face—well, face to perfectly arranged spikes—with Andrew. In his hand he carried a large tropical drink with a paper umbrella and large chunks of fruit bobbing on the surface.
“Andrew?”
The blond-haired man gave him a soft, knowing smile. “Would you like a drink?”
He nodded, slowly catching on. The Rushmah. But the Rushmah was supposed to fulfill his wish and—
“I didn’t wish for ANDREW!” Xander fumed. “SO not gay!” The demon just smiled and handed the drink to Xander. He took it in two hands and held onto it for dear life. “You don’t understand. I—”
His words were cut off as the demon slid a wet, ice-chilled hand to Xander’s face. Xander shuddered at the shocking feel against his skin. He inhaled, preparing to protest, when he saw the demon move in and press heated lips to his own. With the first contact of the blonde’s lips, an electric shot of arousal shot from Xander’s groin to every appendage. The demon ground his lips to Xander’s until he was finally granted entrance and let a cool, dry tongue enter.
It wasn’t Andrew. That was the first thought that came to his mind. Andrew’s mouth would be warmer. And wetter. Probably tasting like whiskey tonight, but normally like bubble gum or cherry cola. And the “real” Andrew would be more hesitant. Would want *him* to lead. He’d probably make the same breathy moans that he did when he was intensely involved in a Playstation game and had only one more level to go before winning. As soon as the thought flitted through his head, he felt the demon’s tongue get warmer and distinctly wetter. The shorter man pressed to him moaned softly. Now that was more like the *real* Andrew.
The second thought that came to his mind could only be described as a rather blinding sense of panic and ohmygodwhatamIdoinglustingafterAndrewI’mstraight. With a panic stricken look on his face, Xander shoved the demon from him, stumbling backward in the loose sand and quickly wiping his mouth.
“That is NOT what I asked for. I wanted a spunky archeologist. Or maybe a Vulcan. I did NOT ask for *Andrew.*”
The Andrew-thing smiled again and said simply, “Yes, you did.”
“Did not!”
It was still Andrew’s body, but the voice changed until Xander recognized the voice that asked him to choose when he’d first entered. “You did. Your desire was written on your heart as strongly as this place.” At Xander’s confused look he went on. “You work among vampires, no?”
Xander nodded.
“This place-this sunlit place-is a sanctuary in your mind. Always bright, always sun-drenched, always safe. It is your fantasy. It has been your fantasy for many years. The safe haven for your heart. In this dream place, no vampire can exist. No harm can come. No duties need to be fulfi. Th. There is only you and the sea. The sand and the sun. And the one you love.”
“I *don’t* love Andrew.”
The Andrew-thing smiled indulgently. “Very well. You don’t love the child. But you desire him. *That* is apparent.”
“Is not!” Xander was aware that he sounded like a petulant five-year-old, but he couldn’t help it.
“No?” The Andrew-thing regained Andrew’s voice and said, “Are you sure? Are you sure that, in your most fevered *self pleasure* sessions, your Cabana Boy Fantasy never played out just this way? With just this star?”
“No,” he gulped. Not at all. Only once, when they’d first gotten to LA. And twice when they were driving here. And…
“Xander,” the demon said slowly. “Can I just say something? And then you can walk out the door if you want?” He drew closer to Xander and pulled him close to the bed. The demon crawled slowly backward until was completely on the bed. He lay sprawled across the white surface, shirt and pants loose and blowing slightly in the breeze. He ran one bare foot up Xander’s pantleg. Every muscle screamed at Xander to flee, except the one that appeared to gain control at the moment the Andrew-thing’s foot hit his leg.
“Okay,” he gulped.
“The door is locked, Xander. No one can come in without your permission.you you understand?”
“Well…”
“Xander, *no one ever has to know.* Not your British friend or your lawyer friend. Not even that boy you so eagerly claim *not* to love. What happens in Splendor, stays in Splendor.”
He made an appealing argument. Still…
“Come on, Xander,” The demon spoke, but it was clearly Andrew’s voice once again. It was a near-perfect recreation. “Please…,” the demon begged. “I want you to.”
Xander found himself tempted. Really tempted. For the first time he was able to entertain a fantasy he’d been harboring for months. It was something he couldn’t tell the others-would *never* tell Andrew, but…
The Andrew-thing rolled backward and ran one hand along the pronounced bulge between his legs while stretching the other above his head wantonly. “Please fuck me.”