| Xander reclined on the couch, Cheetos and Coke firmly in place. Most of the potentials were training in the back and for once he had the living room to himself. He idly flicked through the channels on the television, happy to skim and not find anything. Yep, this is what they were fighting for. The right of every human being to sit on the couch on a Friday night and watch reruns of Married with Children.
The ringing of the telephone broke his train of though. “Dawn! The phone’s ringing,” he called, unwilling to leave his favorite spot. When the phone continued ringing and no one appeared, he called again. “Buffy? Someone get the phone!” Still, no one appeared. Annoyed, he finally left the couch when it appeared that the person on the other end was not going to give up. “Hello. Summers residence.” “Summers? Oh…” The woman on the other end sounded confused. “Were you trying to reach Buffy?” he asked. “Buffy? No…I’m sorry. I’m looking for Andrew Wells?” Shit. Xander’s heart caught in his chest. He quickly looked to the kitchen where Andrew stood at the counter, mixing a bowl of brown cake batter. How did anyone know he was here? Should he lie? Should he let Andrew talk? Xander looked around desperately, but he couldn’t see anyone to guide him. Why the hell did he have to be the one to answer the phone? He fidgeted a moment then, making a decision, he answered. ”He can’t come to the phone at the moment. Who can I say is calling?” “This is his mother.” Shit. And double shit. “Will you hold, please?” Xander cupped his hand over the phone. “Hey! Betty Crocker! Get out here.” Xander called. Andrew wandered into the living room, still wearing his oven mitts. “What do you want, Xander. I have cupcakes due in ten minutes. Hungry potentials need chocolaty goodness.” “Your mom’s on the phone.” The look on his face said it all. Pure unadulterated horror. “What does she want?” His voice sounded squeaky and panicked. “Well I don’t know, Andrew, besides wanting to talk to you.” He thrust the phone at the blond boy, but Andrew shook his head violently. “You have to answer it, Andrew. I told her to hold on.” Andrew accepted the phone with defeat. “I’ll be standing right here. You’re a hostage. Don’t forget that,” Xander advised. “Um, technically I still prefer to be called a guestage, but—“ “Andrew! Mommy’s waiting!” Xander shook the phone. “Right.” He took the receiver from Xander and lifted it to his hear. “Hi, mom…yeah, sorry about the not calling…right…it’s a, uh, club. A club for…mathematicians.” Xander winced. Andrew obviously wasn’t any better under pressure than Xander was. “…No, you don’t want to do that.” His eyes opened wide and Xander could tell she was asking to come over. “…because we’re, uh, studying and stuff.” A long pause followed, indicating that Mama Wells was speaking about something at length. Andrew met Xander’s eyes with a desperate, pleading look but there was nothing Xander could think of to do. “No, Saturday is no good for me, mom. We’ve got a big…thing…and—no! No you don’t have to come to it, I just…It’s not that I don’t want to come to the reunion, I just don’t know if my busy schedule will allow…uh, huh…” At that moment, Buffy walked in. “Xander? Why is our hostage using the phone?” “His mom called.” “Um-huh…Xander? Why is our hostage’s mom calling my house?” “We’re not sure. But he’s trying to get off.” Andrew was still silent. His mother was obviously on a rant that could not be stopped as indicated by the bored look on Andrew’s face. “But mom, I would go to the reunion if it wasn’t this…uh, month. There are just a lot of things going on with the Math Club right now and…uh-huh…” He gave a beseeching look to Buffy who decided to take matters into her own hands. “Give me the phone, Andrew,” she commanded, snapping her fingers at him. He passed the phone over to her. His mother’s voice still echoed out of the receiver. “Mrs. Wells. My name is Buffy Summers. How are you this afternoon?” Mrs. Wells was not, apparently, well. “Really? Two months, huh?” She glared at Andrew. “Both great-aunts? That is important…. No, but you see…Well I’m sorry. He can’t possibly make it…Yes…Yes, that’s right…Right…Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page. Yes…Thank you.” She hung up. “So, what’d she say?” Andrew asked eagerly. “You have to be at Pioneer Park at noon tomorrow and don’t wear flannel because Grandma Wells thinks it makes you look like a hood.” She shoved the phone at Xander and strode quickly out of the room. “Well,” Xander said. “I guess she told her.” *** “I thought Andrew was our hostage. Why does he get a weekend pass?” Dawn asked, plopping on the couch. Andrew sat at the other end, tying his shoes. “Because his mother threatened to come here unless he went there,” Xander whispered quickly, before Buffy entered the room. “What are you talking about?” Buffy asked, joining the conversation. “Nothing,” Xander said. “Are you sure this is such a good idea, Buf? I mean, he could just leave and not come back.” “And that would be of the bad because…?” Dawn asked. “Because The First could choose today to use Andrew for some previously unknown dastardly plot. Are you sure we can take that risk?” Xander teased. He only asked because it drew attention to the fact that it was Buffy’s lack of Mom Negotiating Skills that had them in this predicament. Unfortunately, Buffy appeared to consider his suggestion. “You’re right, Xander. This could be just the opportunity The First is looking for. Andrew can’t be left alone,” she said. “Um, hello? I’m right here. You don’t have to talk about me like I’m—“ “What do you suggest? You could call his mother. Say he got the flu?” Buffy blanched at Xander’s suggestion. The last thing she wanted was another run-in with Mrs. Wells. “We could follow him,” Dawn suggested, “and take pictures like in spy movies.” “I don’t think we need to do anything that drastic. There’s really only one logical alternative,” Buffy said, finally. “Xander should go with him.” “What?” Andrew and Xander said in unison. “What do you mean, ‘what’? It’s only for a couple of hours. You two can get along for a day, can’t you?” “Sure Buff, but—“ “Just go and make an appearance and then bring him back. Easy mission.” Xander sighed heavily. “Fine. But you owe me, Buffy. I’m talking cooking meals, doing my laundry, the whole shebang.” “Fine,” she said, dryly. “Hey, Darth Baker? You ready for me to start the car?” Xander asked. Andrew stood, shoes tied. He took a deep, solemn breath and said, “Make it so.” Then he started for the car with a plate of brownies. “Buffy, you are so going to owe me. So, so, so going to owe me…” Xander predicted, then followed him. *** The city of Sunnydale established Pioneer Park in 1942. Their original intention was to pay tribute to the founders of Sunnydale. Unfortunately, it’s placement near Sunnydale Cemetery meant most tributes were paid in the form of blood and missing co-eds. It was rarely visited at night, but during the day Pioneer Park was filled with people. They sat at its tables and swung on its swings and flew kites on the wide, grassy expanse of lawn that spread out from the parking lot. As Xander and Andrew made their way toward the covered pavilions, Andrew became more and more withdrawn. “So, Andrew. You guys do this every year?” Xander asked, trying to make conversation. “Um...yeah. More or less. There was one year when my Pop Pop was in the hospital that we cancelled it, but yeah.” “Pop Pop?” “Yeah, I mean my grandfather.” “Got it.” Andrew clutched the plate of brownies to his chest like a coat of armor. Xander stole quick peeks at the chocolate dessert. If there was one thing Andrew could do and do well, it was bake. He had big plans to skip lunch and go right to the Chocolate Fest. “Do you see your family anywhere? Are they that group over there?” Xander asked, pointing out a small group of adults wearing matching blue t-shirts. “No, there’s more than that,” Andrew explained, still gripping the plate tightly. His eyes raked the park. “Over there?” Xander pointed to a large group of women in pink t-shirts. “No, that’s a breast cancer walk-a-thon, Xander. There are some men in my family. I think they’re over there.” He gestured with the plate toward an enormous group of people on the west side of the park. “Okay then, Andrew. Here we go. And don’t try to ditch me.” Andrew gave Xander an odd look and approached the crowd as if going to his death. Thirty minutes later, Xander realized why he got the strange look. There was no way Andrew was going to let Xander out of his site. The Wells family rivaled the Harris clan in bizarre eccentricities. Andrew and Xander simply stood and watched the show. It began with a drunken uncle (David? Donald?) reminding his brother (cousin?) about an old football rivalry. That led to an attempt to recreate the offending play, which led to more beer, bad tempers, a brief and unheroic fistfight, and three ice packs. From their perch on an isolated picnic bench, Xander and Andrew watched and commented. “That guy looks like my uncle Rory,” Xander said. “He’s a taxidermist. Smells a lot. Likes herring.” “My Aunt Sylvia likes herring. And tuna-well, most fish. She brought the Tuna in Lime Jello with Mayonnaise salad.” “You have got to be kidding me? That is the most disgusting thing I’ve ever heard, and I’ve lived with Spike.” “It’s true. She makes it every year and—oh god! Incoming!” Andrew scrunched further down on his bench but it was too late. He’d been spotted. “Andy Wells! Come and give your Aunt Betty a kiss!” Xander watched as a large red-haired woman drew Andrew up into her arms and placed wet kisses on each cheek. “You’ve gotten so tall! It seems like years since I’ve seen you. How is Stanford?” “Um, I’m not at Stanford, Aunt Betty,” Andrew mumbled. “That’s Tucker.” “You’ve got that nice old car, right? The convertible, was it?” “Yeah, Mustang. That’s Tucker.” “Oh, I’m sorry. I must have you two confused. And who’s this handsome young man?” Xander was startled as the woman drew him up into a wet embrace as well. “That’s my friend, Xander,” Andrew said uncomfortably. “Xander. Such an unusual name. What do you do, Xander?” Aunt Betty leaned in close, daring Xander to lie. “I’m in construction,” he offered, wondering if it met with her approval. “Yes, yes I can tell!” she said, grasping at his well-worked upper arms. “This one’s a keeper!” she declared and let go with Xander suddenly. “I do believe I see Peggy Longbottom and husband number four.” Without further explanation, the two young men were left alone. “So…that’s Aunt Betty?” Xander asked, head still spinning. “Yeah. She’s okay.” Andrew slunk back into the bench. “Did she even know who you were?” “Yeah. I think so. A lot of people get my brother and I confused. It’s no big deal.” His voice indicated to Xander that maybe it was a big deal, but he knew enough to let it slide and change the conversation. “So…what do you usually do at one of these things,” Xander asked. “I get the whole eating and talking thing, but is that it?” “Yeah, I guess so. We have contests and a softball game sometimes. I usually try to ditch but my mom always makes me come somehow. It’s kind of weird that she found me at all.” “Andrew. It’s nice of you to finally join us.” Speaking of the devil. Xander recognized that demanding voice. He turned to see what had to be Andrew’s mother standing behind them. “Hi mom,” Andrew waved a small wave across the table. “I brought brownies. They’re on the food table.” “That was very thoughtful of you, Andrew. Now, your great aunts want to see you and you have to visit with Uncle Tony because he’s been asking about you.” “No, he’s been asking about Tucker and he got the names mixed up. He just wants to ask about the Mustang.” “Andrew Albert Wells. That is not all your uncle wants to talk about. I don’t know where you got such a chip on your shoulder. I swear. Now scoot off.” “I can’t, mom. I have a guest.” He gestured at Xander, hoping she would forget the great aunts at least. “And who are you?” she asked, her lips drawn in a tight line. “I’m Xander,” he said firmly, putting out his hand. She shook it hesitantly. “Xander. Are you a friend of Andrew’s?” He took a moment to wonder what that was supposed to mean. If he was a guest, wouldn’t that automatically mean he was a friend? “Yeah. We’re in the…Math Club. Together.” Xander stumbled on his lie, hoping she didn’t notice. Lying had never been his thing. He usually relied on aimless babble to distract people. “Well, that’s…nice.” She offered. “Maybe you can get Andrew to call home more than once a month. Heaven knows, I’ve tried. If it weren’t for that vision…” “I’m sorry, did you say vision?” Xander was perplexed and by the look on Andrew’s face, the blond boy was in total agreement. “The vision, dream, whatever. I was in bed the other night and Andrew’s great uncle Herbert appeared to me. He’s been dead twenty years now, but he told me the telephone number that I could find Andrew at and when I called, there he was. It felt just like John Edward himself was there! It’s a real miracle.” She smiled. Xander felt his skin grow cold. He looked quickly to Andrew but the other young man was staring at a spot in the distance, his face a complete mask. Dead people appearing, drawing attention to the Slayer’s cause? It wasn’t hard to figure out what was going on. “The First,” Andrew whispered. “The first what, Andrew? Speak up. And don’t slouch. I’m glad you didn’t wear the flannel, but this isn’t all that much better.” Andrew’s mother began plucking at the black, long-sleeved shirt and loose jeans he wore and smoothed his hair with her spit-coated hand. “Mom! Stop it. I’m not a kid!” “Well sometimes you act like it. Dropping out of college, leaving town without telling anyone where you’re going, not mentioning your special friend until today. Your father is just going to be beside himself.” “Dad’s not even going to notice, mom. Don’t worry about me. Where is Tucker, by the way?” “Your brother had a late class. Medical school is very hectic, you know. He’s going to be here in time for dinner, though.” “Mo-om…we really have to get back. Back to, uh, Math Club.” “You are not leaving this party early, Andrew. You are going to come home with Daddy and I and say hello to your brother and have a nice dinner as a family if it kills you.” Andrew sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Fine. Come on, Xander.” Before Xander was sure what was going on, Andrew had his arm and was leading him toward the far end of the gathered crowd. “Like I ‘forgot’ Tucker was in medical school,” he said bitterly. “Wait, wait, wait a minute.” Xander dug in his heals and stopped. No one could accuse him of being a fast thinker. An idea that had been plaguing him for a half an hour hit him full force. “Your ‘special friend’? What does that mean?” “What do you think it means?” Andrew challenged. “Your parents are going to think I’m your boyfriend!” “So? Come on, Xander,” he whined. “You don’t know these people. You’ll probably never see them again. And I’d like, for once, to not be the only one without a guest here, even if you are my jailer and not my date. Pleeeeeease?” Andrew ended his argument with an award-winning pout but underneath it, Xander could sense the quiet desperation and desire to belong. Why did it seem like he was getting talked into things left and right this week? Steeling up his nerves, he spoke. “Okay, fine. It won’t kill me. But next year? Harris family barbecue? You’re my assistant and I’m a world renowned jewel dealer. Got it?” “Got it,” Andrew smiled, relieved. Xander felt a small flutter in his chest but before he could dwell on the unusual feeling, several bald men were accosting him. For the next hour, Xander let himself be pinched and pulled, kissed and shaken by relatives young and old. Mostly old. Didn’t Andrew have any hot, nubile cousins just back from parochial school? Sadly, he didn’t think so. Late in the afternoon, events that could only *technically* be called games, began. Most of the Wells hand said bye-bye to sobriety around noon and Xander relearned an old lesson-when you were the only sober person on a field full of drunks, victory is almost certainly yours. Xander quickly became the victor in tossing water balloons and balancing eggs. Later, he found himself bound to Andrew at the ankle and knee with a pair of sheer stockings and the two men made a mad dash across a softball field. Despite the slight height difference and the two men’s utter lack of inherent coordination, they won the three-legged-race easily, collapsing on the grass sweaty and out of breath. In their struggle to stand, Xander found himself toppling once again against his partner. “Uff! Sorry, Andrew.” Xander tried to extricate himself from the blond boy, but failed miserably. He attempted to untie their bonds but the stocking’s knot had twisted and he couldn’t work on it without physically contorting himself to a very inappropriate position. “I can’t reach this. You’re gonna have to do it.” Xander gave up and again fell wearily onto the field, letting the other man work at the stubborn knot. The knot at their knees proved easy for Andrew to untie but the one at their ankles had the young man squinting in concentration under the late afternoon sun. Xander watched Andrew’s pinched face as he studied the offending fabric. Andrew absently licked sweat from his upper lip and bit at his tongue in concentration. A warm burn that had little to do with the California heat started in Xander’s belly. “Okay! Wow! Done with that knot yet, Andrew?” Xander scrambled as far back as his bound ankle would let him go, trying to distance himself from the strange sentiment. “Geez, hold your horses, Xander. It’s almost—“ Victory at last. Andrew unwrapped their ankle and Xander stood up quickly. “Wow, that was fu-un. Yep. So…more food?” The dark-haired man set off for the barbecue, leaving Andrew staring in confusion. *** As it grew dark, some people began clearing out. Xander found himself standing alone, wondering where Andrew had gone. He searched the perimeter and soon spotted the slim, blond form on the merry-go-round and joined him. “Is this a private sulk or can anyone join?” Xander said, sitting next to him. “Not sulking. Just thinking.” “’Bout what?” Xander began spinning them slightly, round and round. “Nothing too specific. Wondering how I ended up here, I guess.” “Well, if I remember correctly, it was by car. Then you walked to the playground. Now my feet are spinning us. That’s how you got here.” “You know what I mean, Xander.” “Yeah…” The sun was setting. Spike and Buffy would be taking the potentials out tonight on patrol. Andrew sighed. “What?” “Nothing,” he said. “Just wondering if I’m ever going to find a place that feels, you know, like home.” “This isn’t an Afterschool Special moment we’re having is it, Andrew? Should I be offering you pot or talking to you about sex?” “No.” Andrew laughed. “I was just thinking about, well, have you ever heard that saying about how home is the place where when you go there, they have to take you?” “Yeah?” “I never got that.” “Me either.” “That doesn’t make a family or a home. Just makes people that have to put up with you. Buffy has to put up with me. That doesn’t make her house my home.” Xander thought about what Andrew said. “I prefer the ever-trite, ‘Home is where the heart is.’ Where’s your heart?” “Don’t know. Don’t got one, I guess.” Andrew looked sad. “Come on, now you’re just throwing a pity party. I know there are people you love, people who love you.” “Like who?” “Oh…let’s see…Well, there’s Captain Kirk. Princess Leia, James Bond….” “Those people aren’t real, Xander.” “You noticed that, too?” Xander looked intently at the other young man. “Maybe that’s part of your problem, Andrew. If you want to love people, let people love you, you need to find real live humans to interact with. Take me for example.” “You?” “Yeah. I mean, I didn’t know until today that you had eleven cousins. I didn’t know that you used to play tee ball or that you used to wet the bed.” Andrew’s eyes widened with horror. “And before you ask, it was your cousin Jenny that told me that one. She also said you helped her build a birdhouse for Girl Scouts and bought four boxes of cookies from her last year. These are all things the rest of us humans would like to know.” “They all probably thought they were talking about Tucker.” “Some of them, yeah. But not all. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Andrew was quiet, then smiled softly in the dark. “It wasn’t just for her, you know. Those Thin Mints are killer,” he said at last. Xander smiled and couldn’t help staring at the young man next to him. He felt like he was seeing Andrew through new eyes. Grownup eyes. And part of him liked what he saw. He liked the Andrew that the adults, the one who remembered which brother they were talking about at least, saw. The polite Andrew. The considerate Andrew. Most considered him something of an odd duck, but few seemed to dislike him. That was a big change from Buffy’s house. Buffy’s house. A little bit of reality seeped in. They had to get moving. “We need to go, Andrew. It’s getting dark.” Xander pulled at Andrew’s sleeve. He could feel the arm beneath the fabric and suddenly, he wanted nothing more that to reach out and take Andrew’s hand and hold it until the sun had set well below the horizon. “We really need to go!” Xander said, jumping up. What was he thinking? Holding his hand? “You two lovebirds get a move on! Your mother is looking for you, Andrew. And the aunts. You shouldn’t leave without seeing them.” The two turned to see Aunt Betty striding purposefully toward them. “We’re on our way, Aunt Betty,” Andrew called preemptively. She waved at them and then swerved back toward the eating area. Andrew could avoid his infamous great-aunts no longer and left Xander to entertain himself. He watched as Andrew approached his mother. “Xander! Xander!” The brown haired man turned to greet an older couple in matching windbreakers. “We just wanted to say that it was so lovely to meet you. Thank you for that tip on insulating. I know it will come in handy.” “Oh, no problem,” he said, collecting stray plates from the tables. “Just glad I can help, Herb.” Herb’s wife blushed. “You are such a dear, helping to clean up. That Tucker is lucky to have you.” The couple turned and left. “Andrew. His name is Andrew!” Xander called after him, but they were already too far gone. “Andrew is lucky to have me,” he said to himself. Wait. What? Gods, he really was getting confused tonight. Searching in the dim light, he made out Andrew’s form talking to two elderly women in wheelchairs. Xander dumped the last of the plates and then began taking long, quick strides to catch up with him. Dark and Pioneer Park were two things that did not mix well in Sunnydale. He drew up near Andrew, smiling pleasantly at the women. One had Andrew’s hand in hers and was stroking it. Their eyes both showed the milky evidence of cataract. “I know, Aunt Nona. I’ll be careful.” Andrew moved to place the old woman’s hand back in her lap. “Who is this?” the other aunt asked, sensing that someone had joined them. “This is my friend, Xander. He’s in construction.” That had become the mantra for the day. That and “I’m not Tucker.” “Xaaandeerrrrr,” the Aunts drawled to themselves. The hair stood up on the back of his neck and he exchanged cautious glances with Andrew. “Yes, well, it was nice to meet you ladies…” He started to step back, but a hand darted out, lightning fast. The first aunt held his wrist; the second aunt had Andrew’s. “You boys take care of each other, you hear?” the first aunt commanded. “We-we will,” Andrew stuttered, confused. “Lot’s of bad things—“ “—Bad things,” the second aunt chimed in. “—Out there…” Her iron grip tightened almost unnaturally. They both leaned in, drawing the young men close. “From beneath you…” “…it *devours*…” *** “Okay, are you havin’ a wiggins? Cause I’m havin’ a wiggins.” Xander paced in front of his car. “King Wiggins of Wiggins’ Mountain, here.” Andrew whined desperately and clutched at the hood. “I don’t know why I should be surprised. We knew things would get more intense. We knew the time was getting close. Something weird was bound to happen sooner or later.” Xander came to a stop. “We have to tell Buffy. We need to go back—“ “You two boys aren’t thinking of leaving, are you?” They turned to find Andrew’s father, no more than a solitary presence with an apron at the grill earlier, standing behind them. “Andrew, you said you would come home for dinner tonight. Don’t you want to see Tucker? I’m sure he has lots of things to share about medical school. Did you know he has a new girlfriend? I think she’s a cheerleader.” He smiled proudly, reflecting on his high-achieving son. Andrew sighed as his father got in his car. “Um, no. We weren’t leaving. We’ll meet you there in a few minutes. Come on, Xander.” Andrew got in the passenger side while Xander slipped behind the wheel. “Gee, pressure much?” Xander started the car. “Yeah, well, I’m used to it. Let’s just get out of here. We won’t stay long at my parent’s house, okay?” Xander pulled out onto the road and followed Andrew’s instructions. They were quiet for several miles until Andrew broke the silence. “Thank you for coming today. I mean, even if Buffy made you.” “She didn’t *make* me. She doesn’t order me around. I choose willingly to…yeah, okay, she made me. But I had fun. Aside from the prophetic comments and references to The First.” He reached over to pat Andrew’s leg. As he turned the corner, though, his long arm overshot Andrew’s thigh and he found himself patting him square on the crotch. Andrew let out a startled gasp and Xander withdrew his had immediately. “Woah! Sorry there, Andrew.” Xander blushed furiously. “N-no problem,” Andrew stuttered. He shifted the empty brownie plate over his lap, hoping Xander hadn’t noticed the nowhere-near flaccid state his cock had been in since their talk on the merry-go-round. Xander struggled to think of something to say to fill the gap his accidental grope had created. “So what’s the deal with Tucker? Is he really worth all the hype?” “Yeah, I guess so. Turn right,” Andrew suddenly instructed. “I mean, he is in med school, has a girlfriend, he even had some articles published in Omni. He let’s me borrow his stuff. He’s pretty okay. The last house on the end.” Xander pulled into the driveway, parking behind a sweet Mustang convertible. “And he has a cool car!” Andrew added brightly, jumping out. Xander got out as well and joined Andrew in admiring the vintage vehicle. “Are you boys going stand out there all night staring at Tucker’s car or are you coming in for dinner?” Andrew’s mother yelled. She appeared to be in high spirits. Xander and Andrew followed her voice into the house. They could tell the reason for her improved attitude when they got to the dining room. “So then I just said, ‘Sure, I’ll teach the Introduction to Western Civilization lecture because, I mean, it’s so easy but you can’t just tell me this five minutes before class. Next time, I need at least an hours notice.’ I mean, I’m the youngest T.A. they’ve ever had, but that doesn’t make me God, does it? ” Andrew stood awkwardly next to Xander. The figure at the table turned slowly. “Andy?” “Hey, Tuck.” Andrew waved shyly. “Is that all the ‘hello’ I get?” The older brother jumped from his chair with an enormous, almost fake, grin and embraced Andrew quickly before setting back down. “Now, tell me. Who’s your friend?” Tucker wagged his brow at Xander, who still hadn’t decided how to feel about the mythic brother. “This is my friend, Xander. Xander, this is my brother, Tucker.” Tucker reached out his hand and Xander shook it. “Oh, Tucker and I’ve met,” Xander said, testing him. “We have?” Tucker seemed genuinely surprised. He moved to take a drink of water. “Yeah. Sunnydale High? Class of 1999? We had a really, really memorable Prom.” At that, Tucker choked, abruptly spitting water over the table. “Tucker, darling. Are you alright?” Tucker’s mother began patting his back. “I’ll just get you some more napkins, dear. Andrew, will you tell your father that dinner is ready? I’m not sure he even got to eat anything at lunch today, what with him manning the grill and all. I wish you could have been there, Tucker. We had such a lovely time. But, if you have a late class, what can you do?” She retreated into the kitchen for napkins. “Yeah, Tucker. How was your late class?” Xander asked politely. “It was fine. Just fine. I was just telling my family how they actually asked me to teach the lecture today,” Tucker explained, composing himself. “That’s really nice.” Xander said as Andrew set out to find his father. “Really, really nice.” *** The meal progressed surprisingly well. After Tucker’s initial shock, Xander noticed that the brother made few personal references and even managed to avoid talk of his new “cheerleader” for most of the meal. Instead, he surprised Xander by showing genuine interest in Andrew. “Hey, remember that time that Aunt Ida caught you making out with Shelly Saperstein behind the garage? She blistered your butt so bad!” Tucker laughed while Andrew blushed. “Aw, come on Andy. You can’t be that embarrassed. Shelly Saperstein said you were the best kisser of all the boys on Sheldon Street.” “Yeah, well we were seven so I don’t think that says much,” Andrew laughed. His eyes met Xander’s and the brown haired man felt that illusive tingle again. As if sensing a change in the air, Tucker spoke. “So how long have you been back from Mexico?” he asked, spooning extra mashed potatoes to his plate. “A couple of months,” Andrew answered quickly, before shoveling food into his mouth. “And how long have you been living with Xander?” Andrew started coughing and Xander slapped his back. “Sorry, little brother. I didn’t mean to freak you out. It seemed like a perfectly reasonable question.” “Xander and Andrew aren’t ‘living together’, Tucker,” his mother jumped in. “They’re in a math club. Right, Andrew?” Andrew nodded between gulps of water. “You said you thought Xander was the one who answered the phone when you called, mom. So Xander lives there with them. The ‘math club’, I mean. Right, Xander?” He smiled intensely. Xander was ready to choke him. “Actually, Tucker, not that it’s any of your business, but I have my own apartment. I commute to Math Club.” “Oh, see the thing is,” Tucker leaned in close, “it’s very much my business. I like to know how my brother’s doing and we haven’t gotten too many updates lately. I’m sure you understand our concern.” “Oh, I think I understand things pretty well,” Xander answered. He ran his hand along Andrew’s trembling back while he caught his breath. “Are you okay?” he asked, turning to Andrew. “I’m fine. Thanks, Xander.” Andrew turned blue eyes toward Xander and the other man could hardly look away. He was suddenly very aware that his hand was still rubbing the small of Andrew’s back and it felt very, very good. “So…who wants cherry pie?” Mrs. Wells stood abruptly and made for the kitchen. In minutes they each had a warm piece of pie in front of them. Though none of them were at all hungry, it gave them something to do instead of experiencing the cold tension that had settled into the room. When the tiny china pie plates had finally been cleaned of all dessert, they began carrying them to the kitchen. “Andrew. Will you help me load the dishwasher?” his mother called. They were just standing from the table and Xander was imagining ways to politely leave when Andrew called back, “I’ll be there I a second!” He turned to Xander. “Will you be okay for a minute?” Xander smiled. “Sure. Can I help?” “Nah, it’s my job when I’m home. Tucker has to do the garbage, I do the dishes. Except we always have dishes and never have enough garbage to need taking out. Doesn’t seem fair…” With that, he left. Mr. Wells retreated to the living room and Xander found himself alone with Tucker. “That’s a really nice car you have out there,” he said finally. Those appeared to be the magic words because Tucker’s eyes lit up. “Yeah? I restored it myself. It’s my baby…” He looked a little nervous. “You wanna see her up close?” Xander smiled wickedly. “Oh yeah!” Tucker and Xander quickly headed for the driveway. Tucker turned the porch light on and then lifted the hood, allowing Xander to gaze at his workmanship. “Dang. This is really great, Tucker. I’m impressed,” Xander said. And he was. Tucker had rebuilt the engine entirely from scratch and when he started her, she purred beautifully. He stood at the engine, listening to it for several minutes. “Are you fucking my brother?” Tucker suddenly asked. Xander froze in mid-admiration. “That’s none of your business.” Xander hoped he sounded noncommittal instead of defensive. “I mean, it’s okay if you are,” Tucker said quickly. “God, I’m saying this wrong.” He turned off the engine and dropped the hood. Then he glanced around quickly and, when he was sure both parents were safely ensconced in the house, he lit a cigarette. “Want one?” he offered. “No thanks.” Tucker took a quick drag. “I just want Andy to be happy, you know? Maybe that sounds lame, but it’s true. He used to date this guy…big into robots and stuff. I mean, he didn’t tell my folks about him, but I met him once. Guy gave me the creeps.” Andrew had had a boyfriend? The only guy Xander knew that was “big into robots” was Warren. Oh, god! Had they been dating? Somehow, that thought made Xander sad. Warren was bad news even before killing two women. Had Andrew loved him? And, if he did, why did that thought stir a fierce wave of jealousy in Xander? He didn’t have time to think about that, though, because Tucker was still talking. “I just…I want you to know that I think you’re cool, man. I wasn’t trying to give you the third degree. I mean, I can tell Andy loves you.” “How-How can you tell?” Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god… “I don’t know.” He took a drag. “Just the way he looks at you and the way you touch him and he sits up all straight. He always used to slouch growing up. It was bad. We thought he’d need a back brace or something. Oh, and the Star Wars talk. Does he still do that?” “All the time.” Xander laughed and Tucker joined him. “Well, he hasn’t done anything remotely like that tonight. He just seems…happy. And…I don’t know. I think you did that for him. So, thank you.” Tucker smiled, then. A genuine smile that lit his eyes and Xander noticed for the first time the resemblance between the two brothers. “Xander? Are you out here?” Andrew called nervously from the front door. Tucker quickly hid his cigarette. “Can’t set a bad example for the kid,” he laughed. Xander wondered how many times someone told Tucker that. Maybe as many times as Andrew was mistaken for his older brother. “I’m here! We’re just going in!” he called. “You coming?” he asked Tucker. “In a minute. Just going to finish this.” “Okay.” Xander started to walk toward the door. When he reached the front steps, he heard Tucker call out. “Xander?” “Yeah?” “Right flank.” “What?” “Right flank. Flame thrower number four.” “I’m sorry?” Xander looked confused. You said you remembered me from high school.” “Uh-huh?” “I remember you, too. You were Key Guy.” Xander smiled sadly at the memory of *that* day. Tucker took another drag on his cigarette. “Just take care of him, okay? There’s something…” Tucker stopped, trying to find the right words. “…something going on in this town. I mean, this is Sunnydale.” He grinned at Xander knowingly. “But there’s something new. Or maybe not new…old. I don’t know. Shit, maybe I’ve just been away too long. But take care of him, okay?” “I will,” he said, and meant it. “And Xander? Please don’t let how people are in high school decide who they’ll be forever,” he added ruefully. “Deal.” Xander smiled and went inside to find Andrew. *** “So, this is your room…” Xander said. Andrew stood proudly in the little square room, assessing the damage years away and an aggressive mother had made on the space. “She moved my Star Wars collectibles!” He noticed, rearranging them on the bookshelf. Xander grinned in delight. Most of Xander’s own sparse bedroom had been used for storage and not a few dead stuffed animals, compliments of his Uncle Rory. Andrew’s room, on the other hand, was the room Xander wished he’d had when he was growing up. Posters covered the wall advertising B-horror films and sci-fi classics while X-wing fighters, AT-AT’s, and an enormous Deathstar hung from the ceiling like futuristic mobiles. Star Wars and Star Trek figurines and collectibles covered every surface. In between, battered paperbacks, comics, and magazines-well read and obviously favorites-were stacked and piled. Xander ran his hands lightly over everything, as if trying to learn everything there was to know about Andrew from the clutter of objects. Postcards from Las Vegas, a seashell, a domino; all were pieces of Andrew. The younger man was watching as Xander examined his room with a mixture of envy and awe. “Tell me more,” Xander begged, embarrassed at his own eagerness. “Um…okay. Well, this is the skateboard that Tucker taught me to skate on. It’s his old one. You can still see the Vanilla Ice sticker on the bottom. And these are the bookends my dad brought me back from Tokyo.” Andrew walked the perimeter of the room, lifting treasures and replacing them. Xander watched avidly, drinking up everything the quirky blond boy said. ”These are my Mystery Science Theater 3000 tapes but I had more at the lair only Jonathan spilled rum on them…” Xander watched him catalogue his memories. He watched Andrew’s lips as they spoke of family trips and high school hobbies and Xander had a sudden, maddening desire to be part of that dialogue. He imagined Andrew talking to some later love, one that would come to this room and sift through the memories and Andrew could say, “This was Xander. He couldn’t fight well, he wasn’t the brightest Scoobie in the van, but he was the heart and soul of the apocalypse and we loved him.” It was a goofy thought and Xander knew it was getting late, but Andrew’s lips were still moving, still sharing, still impossibly sweet looking and…shit! What was he thinking? Was he actually thinking about Andrew’s mouth? Posing as his boyfriend for a few strangers was one thing, but kissing him was in no way desirable. No way at all. He did not want to suck on Andrew’s mouth. He wasn’t thinking about it at all. Xander was not, in fact, wondering if there was any chance he could kiss him without Buffy finding out. No way. “Is something wrong, Xander? You look kinda sweaty.” “No…nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” Xander’s heart was beating fast. “I guess I just…This is going to sound weird, but I think we all though you had this horrible family life, you know? Like your parents kept you locked in a closet or something. But they’re really…nice. I’m just surprised.” And if that’s only half of it, Andrew doesn’t need to know the other half, he added to himself. “Am I that bad?” Andrew asked, crushed. “No! I mean, yeah, you’re…I’m not saying this right. Never mind. I’m just trying to pay you a compliment, I guess.” “Oh…well, thanks?” “No problem. Are those X-Men?” Xander asked, desperate to change the subject. “Yeah, you wanna see?” Andrew reached to the top of his computer desk, now devoid of computer, and removed one of the large stacks. He placed it on the desk and began sorting through them. “You have to see this first edition I have. It’s so cool…” Xander watched his slim fingers pluck through the treasured comics. Andrew had great hands. Thin but not too bony, and not rough like his own callused hands. Those were hand-holding hands and-Augh! Heterosexual! Big, fat, heterosexual here! “Here it is.” Andrew passed him the comic. “Are you sure you’re okay, Xander? We can go if you want. It just seemed like you might like to see my stuff and—“ “I’m fine. Totally fine. Finerific, in fact. Yep. So this is the one, huh? “Xander snatched if from his hands and thumbed nervously through it. How did things deteriorate so fast? One minute, he was having dinner and the next, he could hardly keep his eyes from the smooth expanse of skin on the back of Andrew’s neck. The desire to lean forward and press his lips against it was almost uncontrollable. X-Men, he though. X-Men, save me now. He tried to relax and look at the comic. Slowly, the healing power of mutants in tights soothed him and he felt back on even footing. “I have more comics, but they were at the lair and I kinda left them.” Andrew began replacing his stack on top of the desk solemnly. What about the rest of your stuff?” Xander asked, trying to change the subject. “Where did this come from?” He gestured toward a stuffed monkey that sat where his hard drive used to be. “Oh, that?” Andrew laughed. ”Jonathan gave me that after the school play junior year. It was kind of a trophy for—uh, never mind.” “Andrew. I already know about the flying monkeys.” “Oh yeah, right…” “What else? Keep going.” “Okay, um…well, this is the boutonnière from my Aunt Charlotte’s wedding that my mom wouldn’t let me throw away and this is…” The room was lit by a small reading lamp. It cast a soft pool of light across the bed and onto Andrew’s face. Under the gentle light, Xander wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss Andrew or just study with him really hard. Andrew’s back was turned to him and he could see that the young man was sunburned. Not badly, just a little pink on the back of his neck. It made Xander smile. It made him smile and it made him warm. Warm and… “…and this is a piece of amber that Tucker brought me back from a camping trip last summer. If you look really close, you can see a bug stuck in it like “Jurassic Park”. It’s not a mosquito, but I think—“ Finally giving in to the almost magnetic pull, Xander leaned forward and pressed his lips to the rosy bit of skin above Andrew’s collar. It burned warm under his mouth, yet he felt Andrew shiver before he pulled away. The younger boy paused in his storytelling, as if unsure what had happened, then continued with a shaky voice. “—“Jurassic Park” was a cool movie. It was the number one grossing movie after it’s release and—“ Xander again pressed his lips to Andrew’s neck, opening his mouth to leave a small lick on sweat-salty skin. He raised one hand and let the tips of his fingers rest on the side of Andrew’s neck as he continued to trail small kisses and licks up and down. “—and it still remains one of the greatest, uh…the greatest—“ Andrew wasn’t stopping his advances, but he wasn’t participating either, Xander noted. Unwilling to look Andrew in the eye and see what would probably end up being no more than polite acknowledgement of Xander’s affection, he continued tasting the blond boy’s body. “—greatest science fiction classics of all time.” His voice hitched at the end and Xander smiled with satisfaction. He was finally having some effect on Andrew. He let his arm slide around his waist, resting across his navel. His kisses moved toward an ear and he nuzzled the soft skin on the side of Andrew’s throat, pulling his body close to him. He smelled wonderful. How could he have gone his whole life without the firm weight of this body in his arms? Finally, Andrew’s arm came to rest over Xander’s own at his waist. Andrew’s other hand reached to cover the fingers pressing softly at his neck. Xander’s prediction was right. Andrew definitely had perfect hands. They laced over his own while Andrew tried to talk. “—Although some have argued that it’s scientific basis can hardly be called fantasy—“ Both of Xander’s arms then wrapped themselves around the younger man at his waist while he continued to run his lips over tender skin. “—when its…when its basis in fact is…is—“ The dark-haired man ran his hands along the edge of Andrew’s t-shirt and slipped timidly under it, stroking at the supple skin of his smooth stomach. Andrew groaned and let his head roll back against Xander, his argument forgotten. “Andrew?” Xander whispered huskily. The blond boy finally turned his head and, as his lips came within range, Xander claimed them with his own. Andrew rotated slowly in his arms until they stood face to face. The small rock dropped from Andrew’s palm as he wrapped his arms around Xander’s back. With sudden aggression, Andrew began kissing Xander hungrily. Aroused beyond belief by Andrew’s frenzied response, Xander met his kisses equally, grinding urgently against the young man. Andrew pulled Xander closer to his own slim body, and took a few awkward steps backward. They were kissing up against a tall dresser littered with army men, Andrew’s hushed moans the only sound in the room besides Xander’s own breathing. Xander’s body was on fire. He rubbed again against the hard bulge in Andrew’s pants, eliciting another intense moan. Andrew trembled against the dresser and army men scattered like rain on their heads, causing them to part. “Question?” Andrew gasped. “Yeah?” Xander choked, desperately hoping Andrew wasn’t going to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing, how long he thought it would take to get to Buffy’s house, or what the total gross was for the European release of “Jurassic Park.” “Could we, um, move to the bed?” Andrew asked. Xander nodded fervently, too aroused to form words. Andrew took his hand and led him to the small bed in the center of the room. After their initial frenzy, they found themselves suddenly unsure. They sat chastely, side by side on the edge of the bed. Xander took deep breaths, trying to calm the raging butterflies in his stomach. He had kissed Andrew. He did it. Not Andrew. Him. He knew Andrew liked him, had always know Andrew liked him in a Dawn-ish sort of way. Everyone knew it, for that matter. And hey, who wouldn’t like an admirer? But *he* had kissed Andrew. Things, they were a-changin’. “So…” Andrew started awkwardly. “Yeah…” Xander added. They really were masters of conversation. He looked down at the bed. “Star Wars sheets, Andrew? Really?” “Hey! They’re cool! Be nice.” Andrew said, punching Xander lightly in the arm. “I thought I *was* being nice,” he answered gruffly, staring at his hands. He could feel Andrew looking at him. “Did you really want to kiss me or were you just trying to be nice? Cause, I mean, if you were trying to be nice, that was really, really nice… And you don’t have to worry about it being weird or anything—“ “I really wanted to kiss you,” Xander said honestly. His eyes traced a path across Andrew’s lips, his jaw, and the pale hollow below his throat. “And I was being nice. I’m a nice guy. Mr. Nice Guy...” Andrew licked his lips. “Do you still? Want to kiss me, I mean?” “Uh-huh.” Xander said breathlessly, his eyes watching the rise and fall of Andrew’s Adam’s apple as he spoke “Cause I really want you to kiss me right now.” Xander smiled, leaned over, and moved his lips toward Andrew’s. Before their lips touched, he hesitated. He could chock up the previous kiss to a momentary loss of reason, but as he looked into clear blue eyes he knew that this one was pure want. It was now or never…He reached out his hand and pulled Andrew’s head toward him. Their lips met and Xander found himself breathless once again. He was vaguely aware that he was falling, literally or metaphorically, he wasn’t sure, but took little notice. All he knew was that he was horizontal and Andrew was next to him, pressed against him tightly, and he was in bliss. Andrew’s mouth opened, his tongue working at Xander's until he thought he might come just from kissing his cherry pie sweetened mouth. Andrew squirmed and wriggled pleasantly; sending static sparks of delicious electricity to his cock through his jeans. Xander’s hand worked over the younger man’s back, sliding under his t-shirt and across the smooth skin. He slipped his other hand to the edge of Andrew’s jeans and then over, cupping at his ass through denim. Andrew let out a high gasp and writhed closer to Xander on the bed. Xander lost himself in waves of pleasure and contentment. He couldn’t help feeling how *right* the moment was and *that*, more than anything that had happened today, was the scariest thing of all. There were only a handful of times he could claim such a feeling. Eating Fudgesicles with Willow and Jesse in the old hammock behind his house, watching Star Wars for the first time, the day Giles took him aside and told him that no matter how drunk Xander’s father got, he’d always have a home with him, snuggling deep under the blankets at Buffy’s house with Willow and Dawn while Buffy humored them in a game of Hide-and-Go-Seek…and now, wrapping his own sunburned arms around Andrew and gasping tender, nervous endearments into the other boy’s ear. “You feel so good, Andrew…mmm…I love kissing your neck…may I take off your shirt?” He felt Andrew nod and then those coveted hands slip from his body. Xander worked quickly, removing Andrew’s shirt and letting his own shirt quickly follow. He felt delightfully exposed in this strange room with his bare skin pressed against an unfamiliar body. The “fight or flight” reflex that normally tainted all of his interactions with other people was gone. He lay wrapped in Andrew’s embrace on the smooth Star Wars sheets and sighed happily. Eventually Xander managed to break free of the tender kisses Andrew was offering him long enough to say to say, “I did *not* expect to be doing this tonight.” “What *were* you going to do?” Andrew asked, nuzzling his neck. “Don’t know,” Xander gasped between kisses. Andrew’s hands were timidly stroking the swell of his cock under his pants. “Fix the back door after last week’s crossbow training…maybe catch the last part of the Twilight Zone Marathon…” He choked out an almost girlish moan as Andrew’s hand popped the button on Xander’s pants and a warm hand plucked at his boxers. “Hey there, Captain! Watcha doin’?” “I wanted to touch you.” Andrew tipped guilty eyes toward Xander and slipped his hand out. “That’s good,” Xander grinned, grasping the retreating hand, “because I really want you to touch me.” He closed his eyes with an indulgent sigh and directed Andrew’s hand toward the zipper of his jeans. Andrew slid the zipper down and was working his way toward Xander’s aching cock when a knock interrupted him. Andrew snatched his hand away as if burned, his face crimson. “Andrew?” Xander tipped the young man’s face to his. There were so many things he wanted to tell him before whoever was on the other side popped the perfect bubble of Xander’s day. He wanted to tell Andrew that he didn’t have to blush or be afraid for wanting to be loved. To tell him that being a part of a family nearly as weird as Xander’s own meant more than a dozen of Willow’s pitying looks. He wanted to tell him that having a brother who still looks out for you despite being an annoying prick sometimes was a definite bonus and not to be traded in for the bleak despair of only-childhood. Would love to have told him, most of all, that with someone standing only a few feet away and ready to expose them, he felt not the slightest bit of worry or embarrassment. That being wrapped in his arms and receiving Andrew’s warm kisses was the best kind of end to a surreal day that he could ever imagine. Instead, he said, “We better get back.” The knock on the door came again, louder, and accompanied with a loud declaration of, “You two better be dressed ‘cause I’m coming in.” Tucker opened the door hesitantly as Andrew began guiltily slipping his t-shirt on. “I didn’t mean to interrupt-well, I kinda did-but I’m taking off and you guys have my car blocked in.” “Shit,” Xander swore as he remembered pulling in behind the Mustang. “You’re going now? I thought you were staying the night.” “Nah, duty calls. And by duty, I mean a party at Jefferson Hall.” Tucker smiled knowingly at the two men. “It was cool meeting you, Xander. Take care. And you—“ He pointed menacingly to Andrew, “be good. Stay safe. I’ll meet you two downstairs. You know, in case you need to, ahem, finish…” Tucker blushed and left the room. Xander didn’t realize until he was gone that his pants were still unzipped. He quickly adjusted them up and scrambled to find his shirt. “Geez, that was embarrassing. Sorry...” Andrew stood and shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. “I don’t know. I thought it was pretty hot,” Xander said, purposely misinterpreting Andrew’s words. The younger man smiled shyly. “Can I kiss you before, you know?” “Before we leave?” “Yeah.” “Oh, I suppose that would be alright.” Andrew kissed him quickly and stepped back. “My turn.” Xander pressed a soft kiss to Andrew’s lips, then one to the side of his neck. He left another at the hollow of his throat while lifting the fabric of his shirt. Squatting low, he left a hot, wet kiss on each nipple and one on the dip of Andrew’s navel. He finished by nuzzling between the boy’s shaky legs and leaving a kiss on the cloth-covered length that throbbed beneath. Confident that he had done a thorough job, Xander stood and looked at Andrew. “You know…if any of the potentials are up, we might still catch part of the Twilight Zone Marathon,” he said. “What if the potentials aren’t up?” Andrew asked. “Well…if the potentials aren’t up,” Xander started, opening the bedroom door, “we could have an entirely different kind of marathon.” ~*~ The End ~*~ |
| It's a Family Affair |
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