Bye, and fic
May. 14th, 2003 10:41 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
doyleI'll probably be offline for the next week. Four exams in six days... eep.
Anyway, some fic, the writing of which is entirely the fault of everyone on Funnel Cakes and Flying Monkeys, but mainly Fab for requesting het Andrew fic...
Title: Guide Me Round the Curves
Author: Doyle (doyle@ntlworld.com)
Pairing: Andrew/Faith. Yes, really.
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Takes place during Touched. Assumes that Wood left before he and Faith could get it on.
**
The sheer speed with which Faith had him out of bed and into the hallway, clothes clutched to his chest, suggested she'd done this before.
"That was great, thanks," she called through the door.
Andrew blinked, and wondered if maybe he'd spent the last fifteen minutes in the Twilight Zone. Or just some bizarro parallel universe where really hot girls wanted to have sex with him.
Because that'd be cool.
He dressed fast, thankful for the lack of curious teen-girl eyes and giggles. He didn't know whether he was supposed to take a shower or not, and tried to remember if Crichton had ever raced to the bathroom after snuggles with Aeryn.
Not that he and Faith had done much snuggling, exactly, but it wasn't as if he had a vast well of experience to draw on. The time at the pool when he saw Chrissie Johnson in a bikini and felt kind of funny was pretty much the sum total of his erotic experience with the opposite gender. Watching a ton of porn with Warren and Jonathan probably didn't count all that much.
The moaning from Willow and Kennedy's room was reaching ear-splitting volumes as he tiptoed past, and he rolled his eyes. Faith hadn't made any noise at all.
He stopped at the top of the stairs, frowning. Faith hadn't made any noise at all. That was bad, right?
The ten percent of his brain not occupied with the happy dance of lost virginity chewed it over for a while, and came to the conclusion that while he was now virtually an expert in the field of heterosexual women, lesbians were a different bag of cats entirely and comparisons should not be drawn.
He tossed a "hey" to Anya as they passed on the stairs, managing to restrain himself from blurting out how he'd spent his evening. He could just picture her repeating it to the ensemble Potentials at the next pep rally, and then Faith would kick his ass. Or parts of his anatomy within easier reach.
"Andrew," she said brightly. "I just had more break-up sex with Xander."
"Cool."
"I'm going to shower now."
"Okay."
So you were supposed to shower. Oh well, he thought. Useful for future reference.
The kitchen was empty save for Xander, and for a minute he wondered if all the Potentials had just gone back to their various homes. Then he heard something break in the living room and at least five shrieks of "it was her!"
"You okay?" Xander asked, digging into a carton of Ben and Jerry's. "You look different. Or, y'know, could just be that you look flatter."
Today I am a man, he wanted to say, or maybe something appropriately masculine about the eternal mystery of the opposite sex. Instead he said, "Can I have some ice-cream?"
Xander jerked a thumb at the spoon drawer.
They ate in silence.
"Your hair's totally messed up," Andrew noted, when all the ice-cream was gone.
"Mm. Your shirt's inside out."
"Xander?"
"Yeah?"
"If you have sex with somebody, does it make them your girlfriend?"
Xander thought about it. "One: no. No, it doesn't. Two: if we're talking about Dawn, Buffy will kill you. And then Willow will raise you from the dead so she can kill you slower. Three: do you even like girls?"
"Sure, sometimes," he said. "Um, not Dawn, though, because that would be very, very wrong, and also illegal."
"So long as we're clear on that."
"But it's a definite no on the girlfriend thing?"
"Yes. I mean, yes, it's no."
Once, when he was a kid, he went to the traveling fair with Tucker and his parents. He'd eaten way too much ice-cream and gone on the Tilt-a-Whirl, and the weird, excited, scary, could-be-about-to-hurl feeling stayed in his tummy for hours.
If there was ever a human Tilt-a-Whirl, Faith was it.
Andrew tapped the spoon restlessly on the counter and said, "the understanding girls thing gets less complicated, right?"
Xander smiled. "You have much to learn, young padawan."
END
Anyway, some fic, the writing of which is entirely the fault of everyone on Funnel Cakes and Flying Monkeys, but mainly Fab for requesting het Andrew fic...
Title: Guide Me Round the Curves
Author: Doyle (doyle@ntlworld.com)
Pairing: Andrew/Faith. Yes, really.
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Takes place during Touched. Assumes that Wood left before he and Faith could get it on.
**
The sheer speed with which Faith had him out of bed and into the hallway, clothes clutched to his chest, suggested she'd done this before.
"That was great, thanks," she called through the door.
Andrew blinked, and wondered if maybe he'd spent the last fifteen minutes in the Twilight Zone. Or just some bizarro parallel universe where really hot girls wanted to have sex with him.
Because that'd be cool.
He dressed fast, thankful for the lack of curious teen-girl eyes and giggles. He didn't know whether he was supposed to take a shower or not, and tried to remember if Crichton had ever raced to the bathroom after snuggles with Aeryn.
Not that he and Faith had done much snuggling, exactly, but it wasn't as if he had a vast well of experience to draw on. The time at the pool when he saw Chrissie Johnson in a bikini and felt kind of funny was pretty much the sum total of his erotic experience with the opposite gender. Watching a ton of porn with Warren and Jonathan probably didn't count all that much.
The moaning from Willow and Kennedy's room was reaching ear-splitting volumes as he tiptoed past, and he rolled his eyes. Faith hadn't made any noise at all.
He stopped at the top of the stairs, frowning. Faith hadn't made any noise at all. That was bad, right?
The ten percent of his brain not occupied with the happy dance of lost virginity chewed it over for a while, and came to the conclusion that while he was now virtually an expert in the field of heterosexual women, lesbians were a different bag of cats entirely and comparisons should not be drawn.
He tossed a "hey" to Anya as they passed on the stairs, managing to restrain himself from blurting out how he'd spent his evening. He could just picture her repeating it to the ensemble Potentials at the next pep rally, and then Faith would kick his ass. Or parts of his anatomy within easier reach.
"Andrew," she said brightly. "I just had more break-up sex with Xander."
"Cool."
"I'm going to shower now."
"Okay."
So you were supposed to shower. Oh well, he thought. Useful for future reference.
The kitchen was empty save for Xander, and for a minute he wondered if all the Potentials had just gone back to their various homes. Then he heard something break in the living room and at least five shrieks of "it was her!"
"You okay?" Xander asked, digging into a carton of Ben and Jerry's. "You look different. Or, y'know, could just be that you look flatter."
Today I am a man, he wanted to say, or maybe something appropriately masculine about the eternal mystery of the opposite sex. Instead he said, "Can I have some ice-cream?"
Xander jerked a thumb at the spoon drawer.
They ate in silence.
"Your hair's totally messed up," Andrew noted, when all the ice-cream was gone.
"Mm. Your shirt's inside out."
"Xander?"
"Yeah?"
"If you have sex with somebody, does it make them your girlfriend?"
Xander thought about it. "One: no. No, it doesn't. Two: if we're talking about Dawn, Buffy will kill you. And then Willow will raise you from the dead so she can kill you slower. Three: do you even like girls?"
"Sure, sometimes," he said. "Um, not Dawn, though, because that would be very, very wrong, and also illegal."
"So long as we're clear on that."
"But it's a definite no on the girlfriend thing?"
"Yes. I mean, yes, it's no."
Once, when he was a kid, he went to the traveling fair with Tucker and his parents. He'd eaten way too much ice-cream and gone on the Tilt-a-Whirl, and the weird, excited, scary, could-be-about-to-hurl feeling stayed in his tummy for hours.
If there was ever a human Tilt-a-Whirl, Faith was it.
Andrew tapped the spoon restlessly on the counter and said, "the understanding girls thing gets less complicated, right?"
Xander smiled. "You have much to learn, young padawan."
END
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no subject
on 2003-05-14 02:46 am (UTC)Good luck with your exams.
no subject
on 2003-05-14 03:32 am (UTC)Bwah! This was lovely; poor confused Andrew.
no subject
on 2003-05-14 03:54 am (UTC)Perhaps I can rope someone into some Condrew or Wescondrew while your away? eep! die bunny die die!
no subject
on 2003-05-14 04:56 am (UTC)Alex
no subject
on 2003-05-14 05:20 am (UTC)no subject
on 2003-05-14 09:37 am (UTC)no subject
on 2003-05-14 10:13 am (UTC)Oh, just perfect. I love the Andrew. And I love your Andrew, especially.
no subject
on 2003-05-14 11:08 am (UTC)no subject
on 2003-05-14 01:39 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2005-04-16 07:41 pm (UTC)no subject
on 2006-10-17 05:50 pm (UTC)<3 Anya. ;-)
If there was ever a human Tilt-a-Whirl, Faith was it.
Oh, yeah. Especially when the Tilt-a-Whirl malfunctions and breaks a couple of your ribs, hey, sorry, that was an accident, girly-man.