Trying Not To Think About It
"Okay I'm done," Andrew said, tugging on Xander's sleeve.Xander opened one eye hesitantly, "Your fly's down," he observed.
Frowning, Andrew looked down and made an earnest effort to do up his fly using his left hand, as his right was still handcuffed to Xander's left. Failing miserably, Andrew looked up at Xander with pleading eyes, "Xander...?" he whined.
Xander sighed, and rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said, "but you owe me *big time* for this." Xander's brow furrowed slightly as he bent down to reach Andrew's fly, <Just try not to think about it,> he thought to himself. And Xander tried. He tried not to think about slipping his hand in past Andrew's open fly. He tried not to think about how that delicate skin would feel sliding against his callused palm. But most of all he tried not to think about Andrew's face twisted in ecstasy with Xander's name spilling out over his lips...
Andrew peered down at Xander. Crouched, with his hand outstretched and hovering inches from Andrew's fly, the other man appeared lost in thought. "Xander?" Andrew asked hesitantly.
Finally distracted from all the things he was trying not to think about, Xander cleared his throat and quickly did up Andrew's fly. He straightened and looked at the other man in the candlelight. Andrew met Xander's stare with a pout. Xander groaned internally and fought the urge to take that thrust out bottom lip in his teeth and... <Mental note,> Xander thought, <No more beer tonight.> Xander motioned to the living room awkwardly, "You, uh... wanna go sit down?" he suggested.
"Sure," Andrew smiled, "should we get our drinks from the kitchen?"
Xander shook his head, "No," he said firmly.
Andrew pouted disappointedly, "How come?" he asked.
<Because if I drink anymore there'll be nothing stopping me from doing any number of things that I *know* I'd regret in the morning,> Xander thought. He sighed, "Because I think we've had enough to drink tonight." Andrew scowled. "Plus," Xander added with a grin, "if you drink more, you'll just have to pee again." Andrew's scowl softened back into a pout, and then melted into a smile. Xander marveled at the way the other man's lips contorted, and wondered idly if Andrew was as talented with his mouth as he was with his hands... Shaking his head at himself, Xander pushed Andrew out of the bathroom towards the living room, grabbing the candle off of the counter as he passed by.
Andrew squinted, trying to navigate Xander's apartment in the dim light. "I'm not gonna run into anything, am I?" he asked quietly, "Because if I go down, you do too."
Xander cringed, <Don't think about it... don't think about it.... don't think about it...> he commanded himself. "Um," he said, looking ahead of Andrew for possible obstacles. "Just watch out for the-," Andrew toppled over, and Xander fell beside him, "Coffee table," Xander finished.
"Ow," Andrew whined, glaring at the coffee table.
"I'll second that," Xander agreed, and pulled Andrew and himself up so that they were sitting on the small table. Miraculously, the candle had landed upright on the floor by the table, and remained lit. Xander reached down and picked up the candle, but when he swiveled, placing it on the table beside them, he was met with a familiar sharp pain in his shoulder. "Ouch," Xander winced.
Andrew looked at him with concern, "You hurt your shoulder again, didn't you?" he asked.
"Yeah," Xander confirmed, "I must have jarred it when we fell."
They got to their feet, and Andrew ushered Xander around the coffee table to sit on the couch. "Is there anything I can do?" Andrew offered.
"Well..." Xander said hopefully, "Maybe you could work some of that massage magic of yours again?"
"Of course," Andrew nodded, happy to be able to help, "But it'll have to be one-handed massage magic this time," he added, gesturing to their handcuffed wrists. Andrew looked at Xander calculatingly for a moment before nodding to himself, apparently having come to some sort of decision. "Don't move," he instructed, and began to reposition himself on the couch. Before Xander knew what was happening, Andrew had swiveled around to face him, balanced on his knees and straddling Xander's lap. Andrew smiled triumphantly, and began his one-handed massage, carefully avoiding Xander's astonished stare.
Xander thought about protesting, but couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he leaned into Andrew's skilled touch, reveling in the feel of the other man's hand on his aching muscles. While Andrew studiously kept his eyes glued to his work, Xander let himself stare. <Look at him,> Xander thought, <he's so close... I could just lean forward...> Andrew bit hit lip in concentration, putting just the right amount of pressure on just the right part Xander's shoulder. Xander's mind went blank and gasping with pleasure, he arched his back and thrust his hips up involuntarily. Xander felt Andrew's hand still on his shoulder, and in the silence of the apartment, he was sure he could hear the other man holding his breath. <Oh god,> Xander thought, closing his eyes tightly and turning his head away wretchedly, <Why did I have to go and do *that*?>
Andrew watched embarrassment wash over Xander's face. <Was that an accident?> he thought, suddenly panicky, <What am I supposed to do now?>
Xander opened his eyes and looked back up at Andrew hesitantly. Clearing his throat, he offered, "Sorry."
<Accident,> Andrew surmised, somewhat disappointedly. He shrugged, and resumed his one-handed work on Xander's shoulder. Xander sighed contentedly, looking away again, and Andrew smiled wickedly. <I can do things by accident too,> he thought to himself. Andrew carefully found the spot that had elicited the *acidental* thrusting response from Xander. He pressed into the muscle with his thumb and dipped lower on his knees, so that as Xander again arched and thrust upwards with a groan their bodies met.
At the contact, Xander's groan turned to a startled gasp, and he pulled back stiffly against the couch, aiming an accusing glare at Andrew. "You did that on purpose!" he said incredulously.
Andrew sat back, resting on Xander's thighs, and pouted, "So what if I did?" he demanded, "*You* started it."
Xander gaped at him, "*I* started it?" he asked, "*You're* the one who decided it would be fun to sit on my lap."
Andrew wrinkled his nose, "I couldn't reach," he countered, "*you* wanted a massage."
"I wouldn't have needed a massage if *you* hadn't fallen over," Xander said smugly.
Andrew shook his head defiantly, "I wouldn't have fallen over if we weren't trapped in *your* handcuffs."
Xander scoffed, "You're the one who lost the key down the drain!"
"You said it was okay to use them," Andrew retorted.
"You had them on before I said anything," Xander shot back.
Andrew scowled at him, "You offered your wrist *willingly*," he insisted. Xander opened his mouth to deliver a comeback, but came up with nothing. "And I wouldn't have put them on if they hadn't been there," Andrew continued, "It's not *my* fault that your *ex*-girlfriend leaves accessories from your past kinky sex-life around your apartment where *anyone* could find them..." Andrew frowned, "And it didn't help that you got me drunk, I can't be held accountable for my actions while intoxicated," he insisted, "It's my first time."
Xander pursed his lips and shook his head before aiming a reprimanding stare at Andrew. "Are you done?" he asked.
Andrew cocked his head to the side thoughtfully for a moment, and then nodded, "Yes," he said.
"Good," Xander replied. And then, narrowing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he ducked forward and caught Andrew's willing mouth up in a frantic kiss. It was like they were making up for lost time, their handcuffed hands sandwiched between their chests, fingers entwined, and their lips meeting in a frenzy of exploratory bliss. Xander was sure that he should feel confused and weirded out by what was happening, after all, this was the first guy he'd *liked*, let alone *kissed*. But he didn't. He felt almost *at home* with his lips pressed against Andrew's. There was still a part of Xander's brain trying to remind him that he was kissing another *man*, but all Xander's other parts couldn't seem to care less, so he was just trying not to think about it. Xander snaked his free arm around Andrew's waist, pulling the other man flush against him, gaining as much body contact as he could get. Andrew obliged, shifting forward on Xander's lap, and re-starting his one-handed massage on Xander's injured shoulder.
As the original frenzy of the kiss gradually subsided, the two men lost themselves in a new leisurely pace. Two sets of hot, eager lips and two inquisitive tongues, searching and exploring almost lazily. <No need to rush,> Xander thought at length. There was so much more that he *wanted*, but he was trying not to think about it. For now, this was all he *needed*- just to be close like this; pressed together and locked at the lips; lost in each other and ignorant to the rest of the world.
The power came back on, bathing the apartment in light and television noise, but they both pretended not to notice. The phone rang, and they ignored that too. Someone knocked on the door- they ignored it. They were getting so good at tuning their surroundings out and focusing on lips and tongues dancing together and quiet sighs and murmurs of pleasure, that they almost didn't notice when Buffy kicked down Xander's front door and stormed into the living room. ...*Almost*.