A Good Idea

By Mys

Xander doesn't know how he ended up here.

Oh well, actually he does.

After all he lives in the basement, so it's mostly logical for him to end up here.

What he doesn't know is why he holds cards in his hands and why he's playing a game he doesn't even know the rules of.

Or why he doesn't wear pants anymore.

After another five minutes he figures out that the 'not knowing of the rules' might have something to do with that.

"Uno," he says as he lays down one of the two cards he's still holding, a challenging smirk on his face.

Or so he thinks.

Somehow he doesn't quite have control over his facial expressions anymore.

Spike looks up, still very much clothed - and that can't be fair, can it? - and rolls his eyes.

"Go with the bloody program, mate. We're playing poker."

Oh.

"Oh."

Xander blinks. Picks his card up again and puts it back to the other one. Wouldn't want it to get lonely now, would we?

Speaking of lonely.

"Shouldn't I have more cards, then?" and somehow the words seemed drawled even to him, but that doesn't make him sound as sexy as it does Spike
.
Not that he ever noticed or anything.

Spike actually seems to think about this before he leans over to grab the beer bottle from Xander's left hand and takes a deep gulp. He shrugs.

"Didn't seem to bother you the other five rounds we played."

Xander looks at his not-holding-a-bottle-anymore-hand and wonders, if the fact that he hadn't noticed he was holding something in the first place should make him feel worried.

It probably should, shouldn't it?

Nah.

He lets his head loll back against the couch and watches Spike, sitting in the chair opposite of the table.

How had the chair ended up there?

Had Spike moved it?

And how had *he* ended up here?

Had Spike moved him?

He giggles.

Xander remembers coming home.

He remembers trading insults with Spike and somehow going along with one of the blond’s challenges.

There was something about his manliness, something about him being a poofter – and why can't Spike just speak English like everyone else? – and something about a deck of cards and a 'game for real men'.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

And now he's sitting here in his underwear and socks .

And he still thinks the idea wasn't quite that bad.

Go figure.

"Your turn, pet."

Xander grabs for the bottle but just before he reaches it, Spike pulls back and tilts his head in the direction of the table.
Oh, his turn to play, not to drink... right, he can do that.

Xander lays one of his cards down and grins.

"Uno."

And while Spike is still groaning he grabs for the bottle and this time he actually gets it.

It's empty.

And he knows he could just get up and fetch two new beers from his mini-fridge but getting up suddenly seems like a very bad idea what with the couch rocking and the table turning all of a sudden.

Just how many beers did they drink already?

And why are they *sharing* them?

Spike leans over to get the bottle back and Xander watches how he bends and stretches, pulls the bottle back a little bit more so he can see Spike stretch just that little bit further and suddenly sharing a bottle seems like a very good idea.

Until Spike growls.

"Oh bugger it all."

And Spike gets up and walks over to the fridge.

And Xander knows Spike must be as drunk as he is and it shouldn't be allowed to be able to move that gracefully if you're drunk.

Spike's duster sways like... something that sways in the wind and his shoulders roll with every move like some... rolling thing and yeah, maybe Xander is drunkener than Spike and maybe drunkener isn't exactly a word and maybe Xander really should stick to verbs and nouns instead of bothering with using adjectives but... but Spike is bending *down* now to get a new beer and Xander somehow forgets what exactly he was thinking about. But he's most definitely sure it had something to do with swaying and rolling and bending and he knows this is another thing that will 'seem like a good idea at the time' but damn, Spike looks hot like this.

And what did he mean to say?

"Uno."

And he giggles again.

Spike raises an eyebrow at him and Xander wonders if Spike would be interested in knowing that he's the only person Xander knows who can raise an eyebrow *at* someone.

Or that said eyebrow seems extremely lickable right about now.

"You are quite plastered, aren't you?"

Nope mister 'my eyebrows can move separately and that makes me the coolest of the scoobies'.

That's my natural state.

When I'm drunk I start singing.

Loudly.

And off key.

Xander giggles.

Spike sighs a sigh that's definitely too sigh-y for someone who doesn't need to breathe.

Sigh-y?

This time Xander manages to interrupt the giggles by clamping his hand over his mouth, which just sends him into another fit of giggles.

"Let's get you into bed then, shall we?"

And Xander nods, his hands still pressed over his mouth and Spike just shakes his head, puts down the bottle and grabs Xander's arm to pull him up from the couch
.
And Xander is suddenly way to close too Spike.

And Spike is way too close to Xander.

And Xander's brain is sending way too much information about how good Spike's chest feels against his and about how good the pressure of his hand feels on his arms and about how blue his eyes are.

And when Xander wakes up the next day with Spike lying next to him on the bed it definitely has to do with the beer and because it seemed like a good idea at the time and it's not like something like this will happen again.

After all, Spike doesn't need to know that Xander keeps the deck of cards stashed away in his bedside table, right?

 

~Fin~