I nodded, giving him a narrow-eyed, knowing look. Oh yeah, keepin' it cool. I knew this game. I could play along. I could-
And suddenly I was swinging around and the world was spinning around us as Warren was kissing my cheek. There. In front of all the peacekeepers of Sunnydale and Jonathan.
"I missed you, kitten. I'm sorry I had to leave you behind. I would never have not come back for you."
Confusing as well as dizziness set in as Warren put me back down on the ground. Well... he was definitely happy about something. Maybe he missed me that much? But... I was right. I was SO right! He missed me and didn't want to leave me and now he was here to rescue me and we would go off together and it would be totally great and -
I wobbled a bit backwards after Warren's spin cycle, clinging to his arm for a moment so I wouldn't fall over.
"Jonathan! It feels like forever, how've you been?"
My stomach did a weird floppy thing. Warren wasn't going to take him with us, was he? Because after what I said to Jonathan, he was so going to hit me really hard or something for it. Or like, steal one of my action figures. He so covets my original Boba Fett figure.
No... wait. What was Warren doing? He wasn't... No, no he wasn't. He was just whispering something to him. That was all. Whispering something to Jonathan. Maybe making fun of him, judging by the look on the disgruntled hobbit's face. Which is fine. Warren can make fun of Jonathan as much as he wants. I mean, what else would Warren have been doing over there with Jonathan? Hah, silly, silly me. Of course Warren wouldn't...
Wouldn't...
Wouldn't do... that thing... I'm pretty sure he just did...
Jonathan was jerking away from the bars with a look of horror on his face akin to that one when he first stumbled across that archive of Lone Gunmen slash fan fiction. And he was sputtering and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. And Warren was looking all smug and... and...
And I didn't get a mouth kiss! Why does the Jawa jailbird get a mouth kiss and I don't!? That is so not fair and... and, uh, not that I care. I mean, it's not like I'm... well, maybe, but just with Warren. 'Cause, I'm not you know. Like that, I mean. Uh... Scully wants me so bad?
I couldn't help but give Warren a semi-angry-but-mostly-hurt look as he approached. I bit my lower lip to keep it from trembling or anything sissy like that. I was fine.
"Come on, kitten. Let's get the hell out of here. Ladies and gentlemen...have a nice day, all of you."
Warren offered me his arm, which I took cautiously, pausing only to give Jonathan a death glare. He better not have gotten any ideas about... stuff. Because if he was upset when I highlighted his Babylon 5 novels, he would definitely hate what I'd do to him if he tried anything now. Not that he could, given all those bars he was behind.
As soon as we left the station, I tugged a bit on Warren's sleeve and leaned over to whisper to him.
"So... what's got you in such a good mood? You're pretty chipper for a guy who's evil plans of super villainy, invulnerability, and bank robbing...er, ility were foiled last night. What happened?"
"So... what's got you in such a good mood? You're pretty chipper for a guy who's evil plans of super villainy, invulnerability, and bank robbing...er, ility were foiled last night. What happened?"
"Foiled? Oh far from it, true believer. Oh, ye of little faith." I answered Andrew calmly, steering him down the sidewalk.
"But it's not something I can talk about here, let's wait until we get to my house. Besides, I've got a lot of packing to do today. It would be best for Ma if I was moved out by the end of the week, trust me. That way, the heat will be off her if anything happens. Not that it will."
I was speaking very quickly, gripping Andrew's arm tightly as if he was a blind person that I was leading to the supermarket or something. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears.
"Oh. Oh, kitten. Things have changed. Hurry up, there are things I need to tell you."
Despite the magnitude of all that had happened in the last few minutes, there was a part of me that couldn't shake the knowledge that this was all so...cool.
I was like...I was Mr. Sinister or Magneto or something! a stone-cold killer with morals that weren't necessarily nonexistent, just...differently defined than those of mere mortals. A former outcast that was retaliating upon society with extreme force. I could have been in the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants or something.
"Foiled? Oh far from it, true believer. Oh, ye of little faith. But it's not something I can talk about here, let's wait until we get to my house. Besides, I've got a lot of packing to do today. It would be best for Ma if I was moved out by the end of the week, trust me. That way, the heat will be off her if anything happens. Not that it will."
My arm was kinda hurting from how hard Warren was holding it, but it didn't matter because I was just so happy he was there at all. He had rode in on his white horse to rescue me and sweep me away. Ok, so maybe there hadn't been a white horse and maybe he'd kissed someone else more than he kissed me (which totally didn't matter because, uh, you know, I'm not...)
Er, anyways, aside from all that and even more important than the hand that was imprinting itself on my delicate arm (I bruise easily) there was another concern of mine that was just more important to me right now.
"You're moving out, Warren? Where? Somewhere in town? I can still visit you, right?"
It sounded like he'd done something to really pull one over on the Slayer. Maybe he'd robbed her house? There wasn't much in it that was worth anything, really. Maybe he just blew it up or something? That would really piss off Buffy and she'd be after us in a heartbeat, which would explain the need to move out again and go into hiding. But if it was something that bad, would he like leave the country or something?
Oh Warren, don't go where I can't follow!
"Oh. Oh, kitten. Things have changed. Hurry up, there are things I need to tell you. Let's go, let's go."
I struggled to keep up with Warren while at the same time being dragged along side him. You know, that really just makes it harder to keep up when someone's pulling you along, because you keep stumbling and stuff. I didn't say anything about it, of course. At this point I was as eager to hear what Warren had to say as he was to say it. The entire way there I had this overwhelming urge to ask 'are we there yet?' But, uh, that would probably only lead to a smack across the back of my head.
When we finally reached Warren's house, I was practically giddy. I'm sure Warren could even see me shiver with antici... pation. As he opened the cellar door I sort of bounced back and forth from one foot to another like I was at Six Flags New England and I was waiting in line for the Superman rollercoaster (which I hadn't been to since I was in like 7th grade and the chorus went on that trip to the choral festival in New York). After Warren opened the door, I waited for him to enter before following behind him, closing the door shut behind us.
"You're moving out, Warren? Where? Somewhere in town? I can still visit you, right?"
I had to chuckle. "Don't be stupid, kitten. You're moving in with me. Especially now. After today, you probably won't be safe on your own anymore, anyway."
I thought back to that blissful moment, that blessed handful of seconds when mine and Buffy's eyes had met as she crumpled in a bloody heap to the ground. She understood me, now. I was sure that wherever she was, Buffy understood that her death had been necessary. She was helping me into becoming more human than human, and I'd always love her for it. And her blood had been so pretty, spread out across her chest, exposed like a whore made of bodily fluid.
We got to my house just on time, Ma was gone for the day. I vaguely remembered her saying something about spending the day with her sister in Fresno, but that didn't matter to me now.
"Now can you tell me?"
It was as if I'd just been reminded that Andrew was there, and as he spoke I lifted him off his feet by his waist, backing us up until his back slammed into the living room wall. Then I kissed him, hard and long and deep. It was a furious, bruising sort of kiss that left our mouths pulpy and swollen. I didn't even pause to think about the fact that this was kind of gay, or to re-evaluate my sexuality or any of that trivial mortal bullshit.
I just kissed him, and it felt good, and I was riding a high like nothing I'd ever known before, and I kept re-playing the image of Buffy's bloody body crumpling so limply to the ground over and over in my head, and was quickly getting more and more turned on.
I pulled back, my eyes wild and my cheeks flushed, before nipping at Andrew's lower lip with my teeth, hard enough to draw a little blood. Then I licked it away, pausing for a moment to savor the sweetly coppery taste on my tongue. My head was spinning.
"The Slayer is dead, Andrew. She's dead and I killed her. Not with magic, or by summoning some demon to do it for me...I shot her through the chest with a Glock .32, and now she's dead. Oh kitten, you should have been there, it was so fucking beautiful."
And that said, I went to work sliding my hands up his stomach, underneath the snug black turtleneck he was wearing, feeling all that smooth, pretty pale skin under my fingers. I wanted to devour this boy, wanted to consume him like I had Buffy's life.
"Don't be stupid, kitten. You're moving in with me. Especially now. After today, you probably won't be safe on your own anymore, anyway."
I sighed in relief at this, though my mind started jumping up and down and pointing at that last bit like a monkey pointing to a banana. Not safe? Wait, is that something I should be worried about? What did Warren do? Not that I was worried what he'd done, because it was Warren and all, but was I going to be in trouble for it? But then we were inside and I just outright asked him.
And then I was suddenly up against the wall and Warren was kissing me. Hard.
W-wha... what?! What happened? What's going on? What'd I do? Am I dead? Oh God, I'm dead! Oh God, I... oh. Oh...
I was off the ground and feeling dizzy, so I wrapped my legs around his waist so I wouldn't fall. There was a quick flash of pain as Warren bit my lip, but it was short, kind of like getting a shot, and then I tasted blood. I tasted Warren tasting my blood. Our mouths had parted now and I found that I was breathing heavy like I'd just run a mile or something. I stared back at Warren's eyes, my own open wide in shock (good shock, mind you) from what had just happened.
"The Slayer is dead, Andrew. She's dead and I killed her. Not with magic, or by summoning some demon to do it for me...I shot her through the chest with a Glock .32, and now she's dead. Oh kitten, you should have been there, it was so fucking beautiful."
Wait... what? He... Buffy's... and...
My head was swimming as I tried to make sense of what Warren had said. He'd killed Buffy? With a gun? But, she's the Slayer. Or was the Slayer, or something... Dead? Not like accidentally dead. Not like "oops, my finger slipped" dead. Not like Magneto or Phoenix dead. Dead dead? Killed dead? Killed by Warren dead? Killed by Warren with a gun dead?
I felt like I was trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle while wearing mittens. It didn't help that now Warren's hands were under my shirt and moving across my skin. His skin against my skin. Nothing in between. And he'd kissed me. Hard. And he was looking at me with this look, like... like he wanted to eat me whole or something. Like Hannibal Lecter looking at Clarice Starling, all predatory-like and sexy in some unsettling sort of way. It scared me, but not entirely in a bad way. In a really good way, actually. Really, really good. I don’t think I was surprised by the look in Warren’s eyes; I think I’d seen it there the first time I’d met him. I think that’s what kinda attracted me to him. Uh, in a purely straight sense, of course. Well, maybe not so straight, because this was… it was…
I felt his fingernails graze my skin and I gasped, my entire body tensing up further and arching away from the wall. My hands grabbed at the fabric of his shirt, just behind his neck, clenching it into two little balls as I tried to hold on. I felt like if I let go, I'd fall, and not like just to the floor, but like I'd fall into something else and just keep falling. I held onto Warren like my life depended on it, and I think I might have moaned at the same time...
I'd groaned heavily when he'd wrapped those long, thin legs around my waist, which had pressed our bodies even closer together, but upon hearing my name slip from his lips like someone dropping a glass and watching it shatter, I put my hands on his waist and lowered him to his feet.
"What's wrong, kitten?"
Andrew looked flushed, which was to be expected, but part of me wondered if he wasn't frightened by the fact that I'd finally done it. After all our scheming and plotting, all of the shit we'd put the 'Scoobies' through, I'd finally just walked into her yard and done it. Slayed the Slayer.
I wanted to ask if he was all right, if he was scared of me now. Because of all I'd been through and all I'd done, I didn't think I could handle that. Of all the people in the world that I'd hurt, Andrew was my weakness. I could never have hurt him, not for the world. I think that part of me resented him a little for that, but not enough to love him any less.
So I took his hand, and gently tugged him towards my bed. For some reason, I wanted whatever was going to happen between us to happen there.
"Are you okay?" I asked, as soon as we got down there, putting both hands on his shoulders to make him sit on my bed. "What's wrong?"
My face took on a concerned expression as I watched him from where I was standing in front of him, the dim light of the Lair illuminating his face only halfway, throwing shadows across the sharp lines and planes of his face. Like this, like anything, he was beautiful.
I blinked, a mixture of confusion and horror curdling in my stomach as Warren backed off and set me down on my feet. Had I done something wrong? Was I not supposed to speak? Was I too whiney sounding when I said his name? I've always been told that I can sound kinda whiney when I talk.
"What's wrong, kitten?"
"N-no! I'm... I'm fine, and... and I didn't mean that... you didn't have to... we could... you know, keep going... a-and stuff.."
My mind was still like 12 parsecs behind me, trying desperately to catch up. It made it hard to form sentences. And my lips, still swollen from the rough kissing, made it hard to talk right. And, yeah... my blood flow seemed to have been sidetracked from it's normal course to my brain. Thinking was pretty hard for me right now.
I was grateful when Warren led me over to his bed. Directions. I needed directions right now. Orders. I couldn't figure out what to do, and I always had felt more comfortable when someone else told me, that way I'd know it was right. Warren pushed down on my shoulders, so I sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at him with large, lost eyes.
"Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"N-nothing! I'm... I'm fine, r-really. I just... and you stopped... I didn't mean for you to stop! I mean, if you wanted to that's fine, a-and I'm sorry if I did something wrong, I just wanted... I wanted to hear your voice. You felt so..."
I trailed off and swallowed awkwardly. I was still breathing heavily, and my hands were shaking without any part of Warren to hold on to. Wetting my lips, I looked down at my knees nervously. Suddenly I felt really embarrassed, like Warren had just seen me naked or something back there when he'd pinned me against the wall. When I'd tried to hard to kiss him back and when I'd... and I'd moaned... and...
Calm down, Andrew. You need to think! With your head! What Warren did was really, really nice, and you want it to happen more, right? So you'll need to calm down and let him know that you're ok.
Swallowing again, I looked back up at Warren shyly, my hands grasping at my knees with nothing else to hold on to.
"I'm fine. Couldn't be better. D-don't worry."
I wanted to beg him to keep going like he'd been doing, but I didn't want to say the wrong thing again and mess things up. I'm sure it was painfully obvious in my eyes what I wanted, but it would be totally too forward to just say it. No no, don't want to ruin it this time.
"N-no! I'm... I'm fine, and... and I didn't mean that... you didn't have to... we could... you know, keep going... a-and stuff.."
A deep breath escaped me, as I watched him for a moment before sitting down heavily on the bed beside him.
"Okay. Good. You had me worried there for a second."
"N-nothing! I'm... I'm fine, r-really. I just... and you stopped... I didn't mean for you to stop! I mean, if you wanted to that's fine, a-and I'm sorry if I did something wrong, I just wanted... I wanted to hear your voice. You felt so..."
I had to smile at his stuttering. He was so cute like this. And now that I'd been reassured that he was all right, I started to feel the heat rise under my skin, as my arousal returned. Andrew quivered in that pretty pale skin of his like a rabbit when you pick it up. I had a feeling that if I leaned over and rested my cheek against his chest, I'd be able to feel his heart beating underneath his skin. So I reached over and cupped his cheek in my hand, taking a moment to look straight into his eyes. To make sure.
"I'm fine. Couldn't be better. D-don't worry."
"Oh, God. Thank you." My voice came out all throaty and thick, and I didn't waste any more time in leaning over until I was pressing him back onto the bed with the length of my body, one hand sliding down so that it was wrapped tightly around his throat as I kissed him. His lips were hot and pulpy and swollen and sweet, and I drank him in as if I'd been starving for him.
I moaned softly into his mouth, pressing against him eagerly, almost frantically. I had no idea what the hell I was doing, but I didn't care. The world belonged to me now, I could have anything I wanted. And right now, I wanted Andrew Wells.
Still trembling, I allowed Warren to push me back onto the bed without any effort. I bounced once before Warren's weight was on me, holding me down as he shifted on top of me. This time, when his lips met mine, I was ready for it. I knew what to do. I knew it was all right. I wasn't so nervous or jumpy and I wasn't freaking out. I was kissing him back, feeling his lips bruise mine.
But of course, all that went straight to Hoth when Warren's hand moved to my throat, his fingers wrapping around it and holding it firmly. Like he'd put me in a vice before going to work on me. It made breathing a bit more difficult and made me feel really... helpless, I guess the word was. Not that I was about to struggle or anything, but if I'd wanted to, I don't think it would have done much. And that was kinda... well, exciting I guess. Really exciting. I tilted my chin up so I could kiss him better, but I couldn't do anything else.
I whimpered beneath Warren's body, squirming up against him as much as I could. One of his legs was positioned between my own, and when I moved against it this electric shock ran straight up my spine and exploded behind my eyes in some sort of ILM light show. I started to move my hands, unsure if I was supposed to touch Warren or if he'd prefer that I not move. But then, wouldn't he be pinning my arms above my head with one hand around my wrist, still holding me down by my throat while still kissing me and oh sweet God that was a sexy thought.
I moved again, pushing back against Warren desperately as a string of whispered moans slipped out between our kissing. I brushed the wrist of the hand not around my throat, barely ghosting my fingertip across his skin to test what the reaction would be. This was harder than I thought, since my eyes were still closed and my hand was still shaking, but somehow I managed.
With my feet still hanging off the end of the bed, I kicked off my shoes and socks, suddenly feeling too hot for my clothing.
I started to get used to the feel of the hand at my throat. It was comforting in an odd sort of way, though still thrilling at the same time. I purposely pushed against Warren's grip just a little now and then, just for the feel of him still holding me so securely, but not enough to actually struggle. Each time Warren kissed me, I would open my mouth to him, and even tap my tongue against his shyly whenever possible. And with each point of physical contact I felt like two lightsabers had connected in my nerves, crackling and hissing with energy.
This is, by far, the sexiest moment of my entire life. Sweet Stan Lee let me not wake up back in that cell with Jonathan right now.
Andrew was so sweet, in the sexiest way I could have imagined. The way he was writhing and whimpering, pressing against the hand on his throat as if he wanted to reassure himself that it wasn't going anywhere, as if he enjoyed the sensation of being held down...it was all making me a little dizzy, to be honest.
My kitten was shy, kissing me back but tentatively. His skin was so soft and heated under my hands, light, like pressing my fingers against a newly-baked piece of bread. I was loving the way he was whimpering against the side of my neck, a little high-pitched, helpless sounding. It was beautiful, it was sexy. It made me want to hurt him. The feel of his lips moving against my skin was creating some kind of chain reaction, making my hips press down against his.
My hands slid upwards into his hair, and still in my thoughts of him, spread out and waiting for me, there was the occasional flash of Buffy falling. In my mind, it was all in slow-motion, the bright splash of blood spurting from the gaping bullet wound I'd put in her chest, the look of shock in her big, beautiful eyes, and then the expression of understanding that had dawned there as she'd died looking into my eyes. The screams of her friends, the beauty of it all.
"Oh, God." I groaned heavily, grasping the bottom of Andrew's black turtleneck and yanking it over his head, tossing it to the floor beside my bed. He was gorgeous, long and milky-pale and so thin I could almost see the faint outline of his ribcage. His skin looked so pale and delicate that I was almost afraid it would dissolve againt my heated fingers like cotton candy in hot water. His head was turned to one side as he panted so eagerly, and I felt the hot, aching tension between my legs increase.
His flesh was as perfect as marble, I couldn't get over it. For a moment, I reached down as I straddled him there, running a flat hand up his torso, marveling at how flawless my kitten was. And then I reached up with slightly trembling fingers to unbutton the buttons on my green silk shirt, letting it slide from my body with not even a whisper as the fabric fell to land beside Andrew's turtleneck. And then I shrugged a little self-depracatingly at him, figuring that my slender arms and slightly round stomach and chest covered with a thick mat of black hair, a little darker than that on my head, left something to be desired.
"I'm no Brad Pitt, I know. But hell, it could be worse...I could be Jonathan." I smirked down at Andrew, lowering myself to kiss him again, long and wet and hungry, with both arms wrapped around him.
I nodded, giving him a narrow-eyed, knowing look. Oh yeah, keepin' it cool. I knew this game. I could play along. I could-
And suddenly I was swinging around and the world was spinning around us as Warren was kissing my cheek. There. In front of all the peacekeepers of Sunnydale and Jonathan.
"I missed you, kitten. I'm sorry I had to leave you behind. I would never have not come back for you."
Confusing as well as dizziness set in as Warren put me back down on the ground. Well... he was definitely happy about something. Maybe he missed me that much? But... I was right. I was SO right! He missed me and didn't want to leave me and now he was here to rescue me and we would go off together and it would be totally great and -
I wobbled a bit backwards after Warren's spin cycle, clinging to his arm for a moment so I wouldn't fall over.
"Jonathan! It feels like forever, how've you been?"
My stomach did a weird floppy thing. Warren wasn't going to take him with us, was he? Because after what I said to Jonathan, he was so going to hit me really hard or something for it. Or like, steal one of my action figures. He so covets my original Boba Fett figure.
No... wait. What was Warren doing? He wasn't... No, no he wasn't. He was just whispering something to him. That was all. Whispering something to Jonathan. Maybe making fun of him, judging by the look on the disgruntled hobbit's face. Which is fine. Warren can make fun of Jonathan as much as he wants. I mean, what else would Warren have been doing over there with Jonathan? Hah, silly, silly me. Of course Warren wouldn't...
Wouldn't...
Wouldn't do... that thing... I'm pretty sure he just did...
Jonathan was jerking away from the bars with a look of horror on his face akin to that one when he first stumbled across that archive of Lone Gunmen slash fan fiction. And he was sputtering and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. And Warren was looking all smug and... and...
And I didn't get a mouth kiss! Why does the Jawa jailbird get a mouth kiss and I don't!? That is so not fair and... and, uh, not that I care. I mean, it's not like I'm... well, maybe, but just with Warren. 'Cause, I'm not you know. Like that, I mean. Uh... Scully wants me so bad?
I couldn't help but give Warren a semi-angry-but-mostly-hurt look as he approached. I bit my lower lip to keep it from trembling or anything sissy like that. I was fine.
"Come on, kitten. Let's get the hell out of here. Ladies and gentlemen...have a nice day, all of you."
Warren offered me his arm, which I took cautiously, pausing only to give Jonathan a death glare. He better not have gotten any ideas about... stuff. Because if he was upset when I highlighted his Babylon 5 novels, he would definitely hate what I'd do to him if he tried anything now. Not that he could, given all those bars he was behind.
As soon as we left the station, I tugged a bit on Warren's sleeve and leaned over to whisper to him.
"So... what's got you in such a good mood? You're pretty chipper for a guy who's evil plans of super villainy, invulnerability, and bank robbing...er, ility were foiled last night. What happened?"
And why did you have to kiss Jonathan for it?
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"Foiled? Oh far from it, true believer. Oh, ye of little faith." I answered Andrew calmly, steering him down the sidewalk.
"But it's not something I can talk about here, let's wait until we get to my house. Besides, I've got a lot of packing to do today. It would be best for Ma if I was moved out by the end of the week, trust me. That way, the heat will be off her if anything happens. Not that it will."
I was speaking very quickly, gripping Andrew's arm tightly as if he was a blind person that I was leading to the supermarket or something. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears.
"Oh. Oh, kitten. Things have changed. Hurry up, there are things I need to tell you."
Despite the magnitude of all that had happened in the last few minutes, there was a part of me that couldn't shake the knowledge that this was all so...cool.
I was like...I was Mr. Sinister or Magneto or something! a stone-cold killer with morals that weren't necessarily nonexistent, just...differently defined than those of mere mortals. A former outcast that was retaliating upon society with extreme force. I could have been in the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants or something.
Mighty fuck. I was so cool.
"Let's go, let's go."
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My arm was kinda hurting from how hard Warren was holding it, but it didn't matter because I was just so happy he was there at all. He had rode in on his white horse to rescue me and sweep me away. Ok, so maybe there hadn't been a white horse and maybe he'd kissed someone else more than he kissed me (which totally didn't matter because, uh, you know, I'm not...)
Er, anyways, aside from all that and even more important than the hand that was imprinting itself on my delicate arm (I bruise easily) there was another concern of mine that was just more important to me right now.
"You're moving out, Warren? Where? Somewhere in town? I can still visit you, right?"
It sounded like he'd done something to really pull one over on the Slayer. Maybe he'd robbed her house? There wasn't much in it that was worth anything, really. Maybe he just blew it up or something? That would really piss off Buffy and she'd be after us in a heartbeat, which would explain the need to move out again and go into hiding. But if it was something that bad, would he like leave the country or something?
Oh Warren, don't go where I can't follow!
"Oh. Oh, kitten. Things have changed. Hurry up, there are things I need to tell you. Let's go, let's go."
I struggled to keep up with Warren while at the same time being dragged along side him. You know, that really just makes it harder to keep up when someone's pulling you along, because you keep stumbling and stuff. I didn't say anything about it, of course. At this point I was as eager to hear what Warren had to say as he was to say it. The entire way there I had this overwhelming urge to ask 'are we there yet?' But, uh, that would probably only lead to a smack across the back of my head.
When we finally reached Warren's house, I was practically giddy. I'm sure Warren could even see me shiver with antici... pation. As he opened the cellar door I sort of bounced back and forth from one foot to another like I was at Six Flags New England and I was waiting in line for the Superman rollercoaster (which I hadn't been to since I was in like 7th grade and the chorus went on that trip to the choral festival in New York). After Warren opened the door, I waited for him to enter before following behind him, closing the door shut behind us.
"Now can you tell me?
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I had to chuckle. "Don't be stupid, kitten. You're moving in with me. Especially now. After today, you probably won't be safe on your own anymore, anyway."
I thought back to that blissful moment, that blessed handful of seconds when mine and Buffy's eyes had met as she crumpled in a bloody heap to the ground. She understood me, now. I was sure that wherever she was, Buffy understood that her death had been necessary. She was helping me into becoming more human than human, and I'd always love her for it. And her blood had been so pretty, spread out across her chest, exposed like a whore made of bodily fluid.
We got to my house just on time, Ma was gone for the day. I vaguely remembered her saying something about spending the day with her sister in Fresno, but that didn't matter to me now.
"Now can you tell me?"
It was as if I'd just been reminded that Andrew was there, and as he spoke I lifted him off his feet by his waist, backing us up until his back slammed into the living room wall. Then I kissed him, hard and long and deep. It was a furious, bruising sort of kiss that left our mouths pulpy and swollen. I didn't even pause to think about the fact that this was kind of gay, or to re-evaluate my sexuality or any of that trivial mortal bullshit.
I just kissed him, and it felt good, and I was riding a high like nothing I'd ever known before, and I kept re-playing the image of Buffy's bloody body crumpling so limply to the ground over and over in my head, and was quickly getting more and more turned on.
I pulled back, my eyes wild and my cheeks flushed, before nipping at Andrew's lower lip with my teeth, hard enough to draw a little blood. Then I licked it away, pausing for a moment to savor the sweetly coppery taste on my tongue. My head was spinning.
"The Slayer is dead, Andrew. She's dead and I killed her. Not with magic, or by summoning some demon to do it for me...I shot her through the chest with a Glock .32, and now she's dead. Oh kitten, you should have been there, it was so fucking beautiful."
And that said, I went to work sliding my hands up his stomach, underneath the snug black turtleneck he was wearing, feeling all that smooth, pretty pale skin under my fingers. I wanted to devour this boy, wanted to consume him like I had Buffy's life.
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I sighed in relief at this, though my mind started jumping up and down and pointing at that last bit like a monkey pointing to a banana. Not safe? Wait, is that something I should be worried about? What did Warren do? Not that I was worried what he'd done, because it was Warren and all, but was I going to be in trouble for it? But then we were inside and I just outright asked him.
And then I was suddenly up against the wall and Warren was kissing me. Hard.
W-wha... what?! What happened? What's going on? What'd I do? Am I dead? Oh God, I'm dead! Oh God, I... oh. Oh...
I was off the ground and feeling dizzy, so I wrapped my legs around his waist so I wouldn't fall. There was a quick flash of pain as Warren bit my lip, but it was short, kind of like getting a shot, and then I tasted blood. I tasted Warren tasting my blood. Our mouths had parted now and I found that I was breathing heavy like I'd just run a mile or something. I stared back at Warren's eyes, my own open wide in shock (good shock, mind you) from what had just happened.
"The Slayer is dead, Andrew. She's dead and I killed her. Not with magic, or by summoning some demon to do it for me...I shot her through the chest with a Glock .32, and now she's dead. Oh kitten, you should have been there, it was so fucking beautiful."
Wait... what? He... Buffy's... and...
My head was swimming as I tried to make sense of what Warren had said. He'd killed Buffy? With a gun? But, she's the Slayer. Or was the Slayer, or something... Dead? Not like accidentally dead. Not like "oops, my finger slipped" dead. Not like Magneto or Phoenix dead. Dead dead? Killed dead? Killed by Warren dead? Killed by Warren with a gun dead?
I felt like I was trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle while wearing mittens. It didn't help that now Warren's hands were under my shirt and moving across my skin. His skin against my skin. Nothing in between. And he'd kissed me. Hard. And he was looking at me with this look, like... like he wanted to eat me whole or something. Like Hannibal Lecter looking at Clarice Starling, all predatory-like and sexy in some unsettling sort of way. It scared me, but not entirely in a bad way. In a really good way, actually. Really, really good. I don’t think I was surprised by the look in Warren’s eyes; I think I’d seen it there the first time I’d met him. I think that’s what kinda attracted me to him. Uh, in a purely straight sense, of course. Well, maybe not so straight, because this was… it was…
I felt his fingernails graze my skin and I gasped, my entire body tensing up further and arching away from the wall. My hands grabbed at the fabric of his shirt, just behind his neck, clenching it into two little balls as I tried to hold on. I felt like if I let go, I'd fall, and not like just to the floor, but like I'd fall into something else and just keep falling. I held onto Warren like my life depended on it, and I think I might have moaned at the same time...
"W-warren?"
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I'd groaned heavily when he'd wrapped those long, thin legs around my waist, which had pressed our bodies even closer together, but upon hearing my name slip from his lips like someone dropping a glass and watching it shatter, I put my hands on his waist and lowered him to his feet.
"What's wrong, kitten?"
Andrew looked flushed, which was to be expected, but part of me wondered if he wasn't frightened by the fact that I'd finally done it. After all our scheming and plotting, all of the shit we'd put the 'Scoobies' through, I'd finally just walked into her yard and done it. Slayed the Slayer.
I wanted to ask if he was all right, if he was scared of me now. Because of all I'd been through and all I'd done, I didn't think I could handle that. Of all the people in the world that I'd hurt, Andrew was my weakness. I could never have hurt him, not for the world. I think that part of me resented him a little for that, but not enough to love him any less.
So I took his hand, and gently tugged him towards my bed. For some reason, I wanted whatever was going to happen between us to happen there.
"Are you okay?" I asked, as soon as we got down there, putting both hands on his shoulders to make him sit on my bed. "What's wrong?"
My face took on a concerned expression as I watched him from where I was standing in front of him, the dim light of the Lair illuminating his face only halfway, throwing shadows across the sharp lines and planes of his face. Like this, like anything, he was beautiful.
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I blinked, a mixture of confusion and horror curdling in my stomach as Warren backed off and set me down on my feet. Had I done something wrong? Was I not supposed to speak? Was I too whiney sounding when I said his name? I've always been told that I can sound kinda whiney when I talk.
"What's wrong, kitten?"
"N-no! I'm... I'm fine, and... and I didn't mean that... you didn't have to... we could... you know, keep going... a-and stuff.."
My mind was still like 12 parsecs behind me, trying desperately to catch up. It made it hard to form sentences. And my lips, still swollen from the rough kissing, made it hard to talk right. And, yeah... my blood flow seemed to have been sidetracked from it's normal course to my brain. Thinking was pretty hard for me right now.
I was grateful when Warren led me over to his bed. Directions. I needed directions right now. Orders. I couldn't figure out what to do, and I always had felt more comfortable when someone else told me, that way I'd know it was right. Warren pushed down on my shoulders, so I sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at him with large, lost eyes.
"Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"N-nothing! I'm... I'm fine, r-really. I just... and you stopped... I didn't mean for you to stop! I mean, if you wanted to that's fine, a-and I'm sorry if I did something wrong, I just wanted... I wanted to hear your voice. You felt so..."
I trailed off and swallowed awkwardly. I was still breathing heavily, and my hands were shaking without any part of Warren to hold on to. Wetting my lips, I looked down at my knees nervously. Suddenly I felt really embarrassed, like Warren had just seen me naked or something back there when he'd pinned me against the wall. When I'd tried to hard to kiss him back and when I'd... and I'd moaned... and...
Calm down, Andrew. You need to think! With your head! What Warren did was really, really nice, and you want it to happen more, right? So you'll need to calm down and let him know that you're ok.
Swallowing again, I looked back up at Warren shyly, my hands grasping at my knees with nothing else to hold on to.
"I'm fine. Couldn't be better. D-don't worry."
I wanted to beg him to keep going like he'd been doing, but I didn't want to say the wrong thing again and mess things up. I'm sure it was painfully obvious in my eyes what I wanted, but it would be totally too forward to just say it. No no, don't want to ruin it this time.
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A deep breath escaped me, as I watched him for a moment before sitting down heavily on the bed beside him.
"Okay. Good. You had me worried there for a second."
"N-nothing! I'm... I'm fine, r-really. I just... and you stopped... I didn't mean for you to stop! I mean, if you wanted to that's fine, a-and I'm sorry if I did something wrong, I just wanted... I wanted to hear your voice. You felt so..."
I had to smile at his stuttering. He was so cute like this. And now that I'd been reassured that he was all right, I started to feel the heat rise under my skin, as my arousal returned. Andrew quivered in that pretty pale skin of his like a rabbit when you pick it up. I had a feeling that if I leaned over and rested my cheek against his chest, I'd be able to feel his heart beating underneath his skin. So I reached over and cupped his cheek in my hand, taking a moment to look straight into his eyes. To make sure.
"I'm fine. Couldn't be better. D-don't worry."
"Oh, God. Thank you." My voice came out all throaty and thick, and I didn't waste any more time in leaning over until I was pressing him back onto the bed with the length of my body, one hand sliding down so that it was wrapped tightly around his throat as I kissed him. His lips were hot and pulpy and swollen and sweet, and I drank him in as if I'd been starving for him.
I moaned softly into his mouth, pressing against him eagerly, almost frantically. I had no idea what the hell I was doing, but I didn't care. The world belonged to me now, I could have anything I wanted. And right now, I wanted Andrew Wells.
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Couldn't have said it better myself.
Still trembling, I allowed Warren to push me back onto the bed without any effort. I bounced once before Warren's weight was on me, holding me down as he shifted on top of me. This time, when his lips met mine, I was ready for it. I knew what to do. I knew it was all right. I wasn't so nervous or jumpy and I wasn't freaking out. I was kissing him back, feeling his lips bruise mine.
But of course, all that went straight to Hoth when Warren's hand moved to my throat, his fingers wrapping around it and holding it firmly. Like he'd put me in a vice before going to work on me. It made breathing a bit more difficult and made me feel really... helpless, I guess the word was. Not that I was about to struggle or anything, but if I'd wanted to, I don't think it would have done much. And that was kinda... well, exciting I guess. Really exciting. I tilted my chin up so I could kiss him better, but I couldn't do anything else.
I whimpered beneath Warren's body, squirming up against him as much as I could. One of his legs was positioned between my own, and when I moved against it this electric shock ran straight up my spine and exploded behind my eyes in some sort of ILM light show. I started to move my hands, unsure if I was supposed to touch Warren or if he'd prefer that I not move. But then, wouldn't he be pinning my arms above my head with one hand around my wrist, still holding me down by my throat while still kissing me and oh sweet God that was a sexy thought.
I moved again, pushing back against Warren desperately as a string of whispered moans slipped out between our kissing. I brushed the wrist of the hand not around my throat, barely ghosting my fingertip across his skin to test what the reaction would be. This was harder than I thought, since my eyes were still closed and my hand was still shaking, but somehow I managed.
With my feet still hanging off the end of the bed, I kicked off my shoes and socks, suddenly feeling too hot for my clothing.
I started to get used to the feel of the hand at my throat. It was comforting in an odd sort of way, though still thrilling at the same time. I purposely pushed against Warren's grip just a little now and then, just for the feel of him still holding me so securely, but not enough to actually struggle. Each time Warren kissed me, I would open my mouth to him, and even tap my tongue against his shyly whenever possible. And with each point of physical contact I felt like two lightsabers had connected in my nerves, crackling and hissing with energy.
This is, by far, the sexiest moment of my entire life. Sweet Stan Lee let me not wake up back in that cell with Jonathan right now.
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My kitten was shy, kissing me back but tentatively. His skin was so soft and heated under my hands, light, like pressing my fingers against a newly-baked piece of bread. I was loving the way he was whimpering against the side of my neck, a little high-pitched, helpless sounding. It was beautiful, it was sexy. It made me want to hurt him. The feel of his lips moving against my skin was creating some kind of chain reaction, making my hips press down against his.
My hands slid upwards into his hair, and still in my thoughts of him, spread out and waiting for me, there was the occasional flash of Buffy falling. In my mind, it was all in slow-motion, the bright splash of blood spurting from the gaping bullet wound I'd put in her chest, the look of shock in her big, beautiful eyes, and then the expression of understanding that had dawned there as she'd died looking into my eyes. The screams of her friends, the beauty of it all.
"Oh, God." I groaned heavily, grasping the bottom of Andrew's black turtleneck and yanking it over his head, tossing it to the floor beside my bed. He was gorgeous, long and milky-pale and so thin I could almost see the faint outline of his ribcage. His skin looked so pale and delicate that I was almost afraid it would dissolve againt my heated fingers like cotton candy in hot water. His head was turned to one side as he panted so eagerly, and I felt the hot, aching tension between my legs increase.
His flesh was as perfect as marble, I couldn't get over it. For a moment, I reached down as I straddled him there, running a flat hand up his torso, marveling at how flawless my kitten was. And then I reached up with slightly trembling fingers to unbutton the buttons on my green silk shirt, letting it slide from my body with not even a whisper as the fabric fell to land beside Andrew's turtleneck. And then I shrugged a little self-depracatingly at him, figuring that my slender arms and slightly round stomach and chest covered with a thick mat of black hair, a little darker than that on my head, left something to be desired.
"I'm no Brad Pitt, I know. But hell, it could be worse...I could be Jonathan." I smirked down at Andrew, lowering myself to kiss him again, long and wet and hungry, with both arms wrapped around him.
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