Massage Magic
Andrew sighed and snuggled under the covers as he slowly woke up. <This bed is so soft...> he thought to himself, and then, <Wait... bed?> He opened his eyes and peered out from under the covers, <Xander's bed?!> Andrew sat bolt upright and quickly surveyed his surroundings. It was morning and he was, in fact, in Xander's bed. Upon closer inspection Andrew found himself to be both alone in bed, and fully dressed. "...Xander?" he called hopefully. There was no answer. Andrew pouted, and crawled out of the bed. "Xander?" he called, poking his head out of the bedroom. Again, no answer. Andrew wrinkled his nose and shuffled into the kitchen to get a glass of water. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard, and filled it with water. <Why would he just leave me here?> Andrew asked himself, <All alone?>"Sleep well?"
Startled, Andrew whirled around to face the voice that had interrupted his thoughts. It was a familiar voice, and even though Andrew knew the face he'd see when he turned around, he still dropped the glass of water in shock. Andrew followed the glass with his eyes as it fell. It hit the floor, sending glass and water flying. He looked from the debris covered linoleum back up to the source of the voice: Warren. <No,> he thought insistently, <it's not *him*, it's The First.> Andrew took a shaky breath, "Go away," he said meekly, "Leave me alone."
Warren smiled smugly at Andrew, "Andrew," he admonished, "Now is that any way to greet an old friend?"
Andrew shook his head, "No," he said, "You're not him."
Warren rolled his eyes, "Come on, I thought we were past all this *you're not him* crap," he nodded, "Anyway, I'm not here to reminisce, I'm here to offer you another chance."
"Another chance at what?" Andrew scoffed, "Being evil?" He crossed his arms over his chest, "I'm with the good guys now."
"With the good guys?" Warren raised his eyebrows, "You look pretty alone to me," he said, glancing around the kitchen, "Or are the good guys playing hide-and-go-seek?"
"They're at Buffy's," Andrew said defensively.
Warren nodded, "And they left you here all alone."
"No," Andrew shook his head emphatically, "Xander was-,"
"Yeah," Warren cut in, "Where is *Xander*?" Andrew opened his mouth as if to speak, his lower lip trembling. "I'll tell you where he is," Warren continued, "He left you." Warren fixed a steely look on Andrew, "He woke up this morning, saw you asleep in his bed and realised what a huge mistake he was making." Andrew hugged himself and shook his head uncertainly. Warren smiled, "He left you," his smiled hardened, "Just like I did."
"No!" Andrew shouted.
"He was using you," Warren said slowly.
Andrew shook his head, "No," he repeated quietly.
Warren raised his eyebrows, "You didn't think he could actually *love* you, did you?" Andrew looked away, his lower lip trembling. "He'd been drinking, he was lonely, and your lips just happened to be there," Warren taunted, "You were *convenient*."
Andrew whimpered, "No..." he said almost inaudibly.
"Yes," Warren continued, "He was *using* you." Andrew hugged himself harder and stepped back until he was leaning against the counter, flinching as he walked over sharp shards of glass. "He was *using* you," Warren repeated, breaking into an evil smile, "Just like I was."
Andrew's eyes welled up with tears, "S-stop," he said shakily, "You-you're lying."
Warren raised his eyebrows, "Am I?" he asked, "What's harder to believe- that you got used *again*, or that someone could actually love you?"
Andrew sank to the floor, holding his knees tight to his chest, "What do you want?" he begged, letting his head fall forward.
Warren smiled, "Kill Xander."
Andrew's head snapped up off of his knee, "What?" he whispered.
"*Kill*... *Xander*," Warren repeated slowly.
Andrew scowled, "Why would I help *you*?" he demanded.
"Hm," Warren said, "Maybe because when I win this, I could give you so much power that you could *make* people love you?"
Andrew hesitated for a moment, and then shook his head, "No," he said firmly, "I could never hurt Xander, he- he-,"
"Doesn't love you," Warren cut in. Tears rolled down Andrew's cheeks and he looked up at Warren with loathing eyes. "Oh, come on," Warren wheedled, "You killed Jonathan for me," he shrugged, "And *he* actually loved you." Andrew looked at Warren quizzically. Warren rolled his eyes, "Not like *that*, he was your best friend," Warren smiled, "So what would be the harm in killing Xander? *He* couldn't care less about you."
Andrew let go of his knees and slapped his hands down on the floor. He didn't seem to notice the glass cutting into his palms as he smacked the floor angrily again and again, "Shut up!" he screamed, "Shut up!"
"Hey, calm down," Warren said silkily, "I'm offering you a second chance. I don't usually-,"
"I don't want a second chance from you!" Andrew sobbed, "I want you to leave me alone!"
Warren shrugged and held up his hands defensively, "Well then, you've got a lonely life ahead of you now, Andrew," he said, and then smiled smugly, "Luckily, it's not going to be a very long one." There was a flash of light, and The First vanished. Andrew pulled his knees tight to his chest and slumped his head forward again, his body shaking with silent sobs.
* * * * *
Xander opened his door, being careful not to knock it off it's hinges again. "Andrew?" he called, stepping into his apartment, "Hey, Andrew, I got a new key made so we can take the cuffs off..." There was no answer. <Huh,> Xander thought, <He must still be sleeping.> Xander smiled to himself, and set off towards the bedroom, <I'll just have to go wake him up-,> Xander's train of thought was cut short as he looked into the kitchen. Andrew was sitting cross-legged on the floor amidst a mess of broken glass and water, with his face in his hands. Xander crossed the kitchen in a few quick steps and crouched down beside him. "Andrew?" he asked with concern, "What happened?" Xander went to place his hand on the his shoulder reassuringly, but Andrew shied away from the touch. Xander frowned, taken aback, "Whoa," he said, "What's wrong?"Andrew slowly uncovered his face and looked up at Xander, with wide eyes and his lower lip trembling. Flecks of blood from the cuts on his hands had mixed with tears to paint Andrew's face an uneven red. Andrew barely registered that Xander was beside him, his head full of Warren's words repeating over and over again. <He was using you... he doesn't love you... no one could ever love you...>
Xander looked around the kitchen floor at the broken glass, "It- it's okay if you broke a glass, Andrew," he ventured, "I'm not mad at you."
Andrew clenched his jaw, forcing Warren's voice out of his head, and turned to look at Xander, "Why did you leave?" he asked quietly.
"I woke up early... I went to the locksmith," Xander held up a small key for Andrew to see, "It's for the handcuffs." He took Andrew's right hand, which still wore half of Anya's old handcuffs, and unlocked and removed them. "There," he said, smiling uncertainly at Andrew, who offered no response. Xander shook his head, and pulled Andrew gently to his feet, "Come on," he said, nodding towards the bathroom, "Let's get you cleaned up." Andrew nodded almost imperceptibly, but kept his eyes low, refusing to meet Xander's gaze. Wary of the glass littering the floor, Xander scooped Andrew up in his arms and carried him into the bathroom, setting him down on top of the counter. "Are you gonna tell me what happened?" Xander asked hopefully, wetting a washcloth. Andrew's eyes met Xander's for a moment, and then he looked away silently again. Xander blinked thoughtfully, and began gently washing Andrew's face.
Xander turned to rinse out the cloth, and Andrew took a shaky breath, "It was the first," he whispered.
Xander looked back at Andrew uncertainly, "Are you okay?" he asked, "What did it say...?" Xander looked back and forth between Andrew's eyes, as if searching for his answer there.
Andrew looked down at the floor, "Can I have a shower?" he asked quietly.
"Yeah, sure," Xander said, "I'll just-," he gestured towards the door, "you know, give you some privacy-,"
"No!" Andrew gasped, grabbing hold of Xander's arm as he turned to leave. "Please," he said desperately, "Don't leave me."
Xander nodded quickly, "Okay, it's okay," he said soothingly, "I'm not goin' anywhere."
Andrew took a shaky, but relieveling the shirt up and over the other man's head. Naked from the waist up, Andrew turned his head away shyly as he slid himself forward and off the counter to stand in front of Xander. Hesitating only for a moment, Xander reached down and undid Andrew's jeans which were loose and subsequently fell at their feet exposing Andrew's boxers. Xander chuckled despite himself, "You know," he said, "This is the second time in two days that I've seen your underwear." Andrew looked up at him and smiled so sadly that Xander could hardly bear it. "Andrew," he said, pulling Andrew into a hug, "*Please*, tell me what happened. You're scaring me."
Andrew pulled stiffly out of Xander's embrace, "You don't have to do that," he said quietly.
Xander frowned in confusion, "What do you mean?" he asked.
"You- you don't have to pretend," Andrew said so softly it was almost a whisper.
"Pretend *what*?" Xander demanded.
Andrew looked up at him in bewilderment, "That you like me," he offered.
Xander shook his head, "Andrew, I'm not pretending," he said, stepping forward and placing his hands on Andrew's bare shoulders, "I *do* like you."
Andrew narrowed his eyes, "Would you have kissed me last night if you hadn't been drinking?" he asked slowly.
"Probably not," Xander admitted with a shrug.
Andrew turned away from Xander and crossed his arms over his chest, "So- so I was just... convenient?" he demanded shakily, "You were using me?"
"What?" Xander cried, "No!" He reached out and forced Andrew to turn around and face him, "I would *never* use you, how could you think that?" Andrew cocked his head to the side, his eyes brimming with tears. "Andrew," Xander went on, "I..." he fought the urge to say love, <Too soon,> he thought, <*way* too soon>. Andrew raised his eyebrows expectantly. Xander shook his head and leaned in, placing a long gentle kiss on Andrew's lips. Andrew melted into Xander's arms, losing his fears and doubts slip away into the tender embrace.
Reluctantly, their lips parted, and Andrew looked up at Xander apologetically, "It was Warren," he said, "He said you could never love me- that no one could ever love me, and that you were using me," Andrew shuddered and pressed his cheek against Xander's chest, "Just like *he* did."
Xander stroked Andrew's head and held him tightly, "I would never use you like the first did," he said.
Andrew shook his head and looked back up at Xander, teary-eyed, "Not the first," he clarified, "Warren."
Xander frowned, "Oh." He paused, cocking his head to the side, "How... how did Warren use you?" he asked hesitantly, uncertain whether or not he wanted to hear the answer.
Andrew blushed, and glanced downwards, "He used to let me... you know?" Xander looked back at him, confusedly. Andrew shot another pointed look down at Xander's groin, "Remember?" he asked, "I'm good with my hands?"
Xander groaned, finally clueing in, "Right," he said, "Massage magic." He shook his head, "How could I forget?"
Andrew wrinkled his nose wretchedly, "He told me he loved me... But it was just another lie."
Xander squeezed Andrew's shoulder reassuringly, "Let's get you into that shower," he suggested. Andrew nodded almost happily, and turned, getting a half-step to the shower before Xander stopped him with a finger hooked into the waistband of his boxers. "Hang on," Xander said, coming up behind Andrew and holding him in place. Andrew stood still, holding his breath, as Xander stooped and pulled his boxers down to the ground so that he could step out of them. "There," Xander said, smacking Andrew lightly on the bottom and pushing him toward the shower. Andrew giggled, and Xander almost had to cover his mouth to stop himself from screaming *I love you*, <No,> he thought as Andrew disappeared behind the shower curtain and started up the water, <No. You have to be *sure*.> Xander hopped up on the counter, watching Andrew's fuzzy outline through the curtain, <When you tell him, you have to mean it,> he thought, <Or you're just as bad as Warren...>