SDF 73: The Odd Couple
Segment: The Odd Couple
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Note: Thanks goes to Mixed-Drink for the drink names. The few times I've gotten drunk, I couldn't remember what drink I had let alone where I was.
Warning: Hints of an abusive relationship.
The day had gone by a lot faster than Xander had suspected it would and he now found himself once again at the Sundance Club. Fridays were typically slow at school and, even with Jesse acting like someone had drugged his lunch, Xander was for once thankful that he was in the loud club. There was a steady crowd streaming in and out. The dancers were working their flesh and contorting their bodies, giving those around them a thrill. Graham hovered by the door, looking like an angry brick wall.
If Xander had chosen to think about it, he would be under the impression that Graham and Riley had had a fight. The idea was amusing, not to mention a little daunting. Those were two large, muscular, and very dangerous looking men. Xander didn't want to imagine the sort of fight those two would have. Not that Xander thought that they hit one another. From what Xander could tell, Riley was all talk and Graham seemed like a bit of a push over.
Smiling at a random costumer, Xander gently pushed his way through the crowd, pulling the small notepad from his apron as he went. He paused at one table, quickly writing down a repeat order, before bouncing over to the most recently occupied table. He glanced at their faces briefly, mouth opened to announce the night's specials, when his voice caught in his throat.
Oh. Great. This guy.
"Why, hello there." Warren, if Xander remembered his name correctly, was staring at his crotch. Xander shifted nervously and thanked the strip-club gods that his apron covered his actual crotch-area, otherwise he would have started to blush. Thankfully, since he was properly covered, he had the ability to surpass embarrassment and realize how insulting Warren's greeting was.
"What can I get for you?" Xander asked, with a pained smile. He glanced at Warren's date, the petite Andrew. The blonde was staring at the table, his face in shadow.
"I'll have a Black Russian." Warren replied.
"And you, sir?" Xander asked, turning to Andrew. Andrew said nothing.
"Baby." Warren hissed, sliding his arm across Andrew's shoulders. Andrew winced, but looked up. Xander frowned slightly when he saw Andrew's bloodshot eyes, but didn't say anything. It was kind of smoky in here, for all Xander knew he could have allergies. "He asked you what you wanted."
"I don't care." Andrew replied, his voice squeaking.
"Right." Warren squeezed Andrew's shoulder, not noticing Andrew wince again, before turning back to Xander. "He'll have a Bermuda Rose."
Xander wrote down their orders and quickly walked back to the bar. As he waited for them to be made, Xander leaned against an empty barstool and watched Warren and Andrew. Warren was leaning back in his chair, a smug look on his face, watching the stripper currently on stage. Next to him, Andrew had returned to staring at the table. One of Warren's hand reached out and stroked down Andrew's arm, a smile appearing on Warren's face when Andrew flinched. Xander gritted his teeth and grabbed the prepared drinks.
"Hey, Harris." The bartender caught his attention, giving him an amused look. "Don't cause any trouble, okay?"
"What are you talking about?" Xander demanded.
"Leave the odd couple alone." He said, gesturing toward Warren's table. "It's none of your business and you don't know what's going on between them, but I can tell from your expression you're about to open that big mouth of yours and get into a fight. Warren plays dirty, Harris, you'll lose."
"Whatever." Xander mumbled, turning away from the bar and making his way back through the crowd. He dropped off his first drink, receiving a friendly pat on the butt in thanks as well as a ten dollar tip in his front pocket. Rolling his eyes, for he was now accustomed to being felt up and given overly large tips, Xander went back to Warren's table.
He set the drinks on the table, watching as Andrew gently pulled his closer. "Will that be all for you guys?"
"If that's all you're offering." Warren leered. Xander forced down a shudder and sent him a stiff smile in reply.
"Yeah." Xander said in a hard tone. "That's all I'm offering."
"Pity. Wouldn't mind taking that ass of yours home." Warren replied. "Isn't that right, Andrew?"
"Uhh, right." Andrew stammered.
"Uh-Huh." Xander raised an eyebrow as Andrew began to blush. Without looking at Warren, Xander turned and walked back toward the bar. He was not in the mood to deal with Warren's crap, or watch him embarrass his own boyfriend.
Leaning against the bar, waiting for yet another order to be filled, Xander decided that Andrew needed to get a clue. He wasn't sure how he could help with that, if he could help at all, but Xander would be damned if he was going to spend the rest of the year working here just to see Andrew hunched in his chair next to Warren the Asshole every Friday night.
the cast | the story list
Note: Thanks goes to Mixed-Drink for the drink names. The few times I've gotten drunk, I couldn't remember what drink I had let alone where I was.
Warning: Hints of an abusive relationship.
The day had gone by a lot faster than Xander had suspected it would and he now found himself once again at the Sundance Club. Fridays were typically slow at school and, even with Jesse acting like someone had drugged his lunch, Xander was for once thankful that he was in the loud club. There was a steady crowd streaming in and out. The dancers were working their flesh and contorting their bodies, giving those around them a thrill. Graham hovered by the door, looking like an angry brick wall.
If Xander had chosen to think about it, he would be under the impression that Graham and Riley had had a fight. The idea was amusing, not to mention a little daunting. Those were two large, muscular, and very dangerous looking men. Xander didn't want to imagine the sort of fight those two would have. Not that Xander thought that they hit one another. From what Xander could tell, Riley was all talk and Graham seemed like a bit of a push over.
Smiling at a random costumer, Xander gently pushed his way through the crowd, pulling the small notepad from his apron as he went. He paused at one table, quickly writing down a repeat order, before bouncing over to the most recently occupied table. He glanced at their faces briefly, mouth opened to announce the night's specials, when his voice caught in his throat.
Oh. Great. This guy.
"Why, hello there." Warren, if Xander remembered his name correctly, was staring at his crotch. Xander shifted nervously and thanked the strip-club gods that his apron covered his actual crotch-area, otherwise he would have started to blush. Thankfully, since he was properly covered, he had the ability to surpass embarrassment and realize how insulting Warren's greeting was.
"What can I get for you?" Xander asked, with a pained smile. He glanced at Warren's date, the petite Andrew. The blonde was staring at the table, his face in shadow.
"I'll have a Black Russian." Warren replied.
"And you, sir?" Xander asked, turning to Andrew. Andrew said nothing.
"Baby." Warren hissed, sliding his arm across Andrew's shoulders. Andrew winced, but looked up. Xander frowned slightly when he saw Andrew's bloodshot eyes, but didn't say anything. It was kind of smoky in here, for all Xander knew he could have allergies. "He asked you what you wanted."
"I don't care." Andrew replied, his voice squeaking.
"Right." Warren squeezed Andrew's shoulder, not noticing Andrew wince again, before turning back to Xander. "He'll have a Bermuda Rose."
Xander wrote down their orders and quickly walked back to the bar. As he waited for them to be made, Xander leaned against an empty barstool and watched Warren and Andrew. Warren was leaning back in his chair, a smug look on his face, watching the stripper currently on stage. Next to him, Andrew had returned to staring at the table. One of Warren's hand reached out and stroked down Andrew's arm, a smile appearing on Warren's face when Andrew flinched. Xander gritted his teeth and grabbed the prepared drinks.
"Hey, Harris." The bartender caught his attention, giving him an amused look. "Don't cause any trouble, okay?"
"What are you talking about?" Xander demanded.
"Leave the odd couple alone." He said, gesturing toward Warren's table. "It's none of your business and you don't know what's going on between them, but I can tell from your expression you're about to open that big mouth of yours and get into a fight. Warren plays dirty, Harris, you'll lose."
"Whatever." Xander mumbled, turning away from the bar and making his way back through the crowd. He dropped off his first drink, receiving a friendly pat on the butt in thanks as well as a ten dollar tip in his front pocket. Rolling his eyes, for he was now accustomed to being felt up and given overly large tips, Xander went back to Warren's table.
He set the drinks on the table, watching as Andrew gently pulled his closer. "Will that be all for you guys?"
"If that's all you're offering." Warren leered. Xander forced down a shudder and sent him a stiff smile in reply.
"Yeah." Xander said in a hard tone. "That's all I'm offering."
"Pity. Wouldn't mind taking that ass of yours home." Warren replied. "Isn't that right, Andrew?"
"Uhh, right." Andrew stammered.
"Uh-Huh." Xander raised an eyebrow as Andrew began to blush. Without looking at Warren, Xander turned and walked back toward the bar. He was not in the mood to deal with Warren's crap, or watch him embarrass his own boyfriend.
Leaning against the bar, waiting for yet another order to be filled, Xander decided that Andrew needed to get a clue. He wasn't sure how he could help with that, if he could help at all, but Xander would be damned if he was going to spend the rest of the year working here just to see Andrew hunched in his chair next to Warren the Asshole every Friday night.