#i just write drabbles of drew and xander

[danielcooperrp]

Shake the House Down

“It’s a party.”

“I know that.”

“Really? Because the way you’re pacing suggests you think you’re headed for a firing squad.”

Drew makes a face at his boyfriend, who is lounging languidly on Drew’s bed. Drew, as Xander astutely noted, is pacing a line from the door to the window, wringing his hands. “Is it a big party?”

Xander tosses a hockey puck up into the air and catches it with a nonchalance that only exacerbates Drew’s anxiety. “Delta Lambda Phi can usually pull a crowd. It’s the queer frat, so it’ll probably pull people from the other universities in town.”

There is some comfort in knowing that the party Xander wants them to go to is being thrown by a queer fraternity. When Drew thinks “frat bro,” he doesn’t exactly think of friends. And Drew grew up in queer spaces, raised by queer parents—a house full of people like him should be fine. 

He stops his pacing to look at Xander. “Do you...never mind.” He starts pacing again. 

“Ah ah ah.” Xander hauls himself off of the bed to stand in front of Drew. Drew is actually only an inch shorter than his boyfriend, but because Xander is so much larger, the height difference feels much more dramatic. “Talk to me, Cooper. What is your brain whizzing about?”

“Well...” Drew doesn’t meet his gaze. “Do you know a lot of people who are going to be there?”

“Uh, sure, I guess. Some people from Pride, this very funny lesbian from my microeconomics class, and a bunch of people from the frat...”

“No, I mean...you know. Exes.”

There’s a pause, and then Xander bursts out laughing. “Cooper...” Xander wraps his arms around Drew. Warmth floods Drew’s body, right down to his toes. “You are worrying for nothing. I’m excited for everyone to meet you, my very smart, very sexy, very silly boyfriend. Will some of my exes be there? Maybe. I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m there with you. If you’ll go with me.”

Drew nods into his chest. Then he looks up. “Just promise not to make out with some guy in the bathroom.”

“Mmm, no shot.” Drew’s eyebrows furrow. “I am definitely making out with at least one guy while I’m there.” Then he grins and presses his lips to Drew’s.

_____

The frat house looks like any other brownstone littering the streets of Boston, except for the ten-foot cardboard cut-out of a pop star that Drew is sure he’s supposed to know but can’t remember the name of. As they walk up, the music is pounding, and Drew instinctually wants to go apologize to the neighbors.

Xander convinced him to dress down for the evening—apparently sweaters and collared shirts are not the prescribed attire for such an affair—so Drew is in a plain white T-shirt that fits more snugly than he’s used to and a pair of dark skinny jeans. Xander’s even more relaxed in 70s-style basketball shorts and a mesh tank top. He had tried to coax Drew into something similar, but gave up when he saw the panic in Drew’s face at the sigh of hot pink boyshorts. Besides, Drew couldn’t help but notice the way Xander’s eyes and hands kept gravitating toward his butt in these jeans. 

As soon as they’re inside, they’re swarmed with people, but in a rare occurrence for Drew, they’re not interested in him. Xander is being pulled in every direction by the most colorful group of drunk folks he’s ever seen. 

“Is that Alexander?”

“We though you died, where have you been—”

“The boy catches a few touchdowns and it’s out with the queers—”

“—those shorts, now I know why they call you tight end—”

“—not that I’m trying to play into stereotypes, sweetie, but the sink has been dripping for days—”

Drew can barely hear the fawning over the music, so he looks around at the party. It’s wall-to-wall people with the most eclectic fashion senses ever gathered under one roof: evening gowns and body glitter and flannel and sleeve tattoos and undercuts and lots and lots of naked skin. Somehow, Xander extract himself from his welcoming committee and pulls Drew by the hand into a room with some IKEA couches and an enormous fish tank.

“Sorry about that,” he says, voice raised to compete with the music. “I have been around as much. I guess they noticed.”

“Why haven’t you been around?”

Xander fixes his gaze on Drew. “I met a guy.” Drew flushes. “Now come on, let me show you off.”

_____

Xander tours Drew around, introducing him to what feels like every queer person under 25 in Boston. He’s careful to use his first name only, for which Drew is grateful; the last thing he needs is someone making a family connection right now. 

After a hour or so, they’re in the kitchen, each with a Solo cup in hand. Drew doesn’t exactly know what he’s drinking, but the taste isn’t objectionable, and he’s two cups in and feeling a little looser than usual. Xander squeezes his hand and says in his ear, “You mind if I leave you here for a minute? They really want me to take a look at their bathroom sink?”

Drew makes a face. “What did say about making out with guys in the bathroom?”

Xander grins. “Only you, Cooper.” He kisses Drew’s neck, which sends a thrill down his spine, and disappears into the crowd.

Drew drifts around the kitchen, peeking into cabinets, grabbing food off of plates that keep floating in and out of the room. He gets himself another cup of whatever alcoholic drink is in the bowl on the counter, and when he turns to walk away, someone is there, smiling at him. 

“Hi.”

“Um, hi.” Drew is pretty sure that this guy, blonde with deeply tanned skin, is not one of the myriad people he’s already been introduced to. This guy is looking at Drew in a way that feels foreign.

“I’m Mark.”

“Drew.” He starts to edge away, but Mark deftly steps in front of him.

“Haven’t seen you around before.”

“Oh. I’m new. I mean, to the...fraternity...party...scene...” His ears redden in embarrassment.

“Well then, tonight’s your lucky night.” Marks takes a step forward and bends to whisper in Drew’s ear. “I’d love to show you a good time.”

Drew freezes, unsure what to do. He hates conflict with all of his being, but he doesn't know how to get out of this situation. There are people everywhere, but no one is paying attention to the quiet kid in the corner. As his eyes scan the room for a face he recognizes, he feels a hand on his butt, and his entire body jolts. 

He remember something his father told him before he left for college. I want you to have fun, and I want you to discover all of the secrets of yourself. But please remember that some people are going to see how quiet you are, and they are going to think that you belong to them. I don’t care what you have to do or who you have to do it to—you have to let them know that you don’t.

The ground begins to shake beneath him, slow at first, and then more violently. His head is swimmy but he manages to shove Mark back. 

“What the fuck?” Mark splutters.

The ground is shaking even more now; the bowl of whatever drink vibrates off of the counter and onto the floor. People start to scream and clamor for the exits, but no one notices Drew, hands balled into fists at his sides, staring down some douche in a tank top and jean cutoffs. 

Someone barrels into the kitchen. “Cooper?” Xander pauses to take stock of the tableau before him. “Oh, fuck.” He checks marks out of the way to stand in front of Drew. “Cooper? Cooper, come on, it’s okay.” He catches Drew’s eyes. “Look at me, Hey. You gotta stop the shaking before someone gets hurt.”

Drew closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths. After a minute, the earth settles into silence. Drew opens his eyes. “I’m so—”

“Hang on.” Xander whips around to glower at Mark, who shrinks back. “What the fuck are you doing here? I thought everyone made it clear that you weren’t gonna set foot in this building after what you did last spring.”

Mark feigns boldness with a scoff. “Whatever. Take your mutant boy, I don’t want any part of that shit.”

Xander takes a threatening step forward and Mark scurries off. Then he turns back to Drew. “What did he—”

“Nothing. That was stupid. I was stupid.” He feels like he could sleep for days.

“Mark is a creep who likes trolling parties for freshman boys. Delta Lambda Phi banned him a long time ago, but...Drew, I’m so sorry.”

Drew shakes his head. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Xander looks like he wants to argue, but he puts an arm around Drew’s shoulder and pulls him in close. “Come on, let’s get you home.” He steers him toward the back door, where he fewer people had run out.

“I’m sorry for ruining the party,” Drew mumbles, eyes sliding shut.

A pair of lips press into the crown of his head. “You could never ruin anything, Drew.” 

[kyliafanfiction-archive]

10 More Faith/Amy Drabbles

A while ago, I wrote ten drabbles based on a gifset of Faith and Amy that @emofaith made. (They’re right here, for the interested ). Well, since @emofaith made another ten gifs, I’m writing more drabbles.

Because I love Faimy and I always will. So there. :P

The drabbles take place in seperate universes unless otherwise stated.

I. I’m Stuff

Amy turned her head to see Faith sauntering through the hallway, Willow and Xander behind her. 

“So... Faith, I was wondering if you wanted to come hang at the Bronze with us tonight. We’re all gonna be there - Buffy, Oz, Cordelia.” Amy already knew what Faith’s answer was going to be, of course, but she smirked as Faith answered.

Faith shook her head, “Nah. ‘precciate the offer though, but I’m gonna be busy tonight.” 

“Busy? Whatcha gonna be doing?” Xander asked curiously. “I mean, from what I’ve heard, alls quiet on the Slaying front.”

“No, not Slaying. Just... doing stuff.” Faith chuckled as if at a private joke. One only she and Amy shared.

“What sort of-” Willow started to ask, but Amy chose that moment to walk up to the three of them and grab Faith’s hand. This was too good of an opening to pass up.

“I’m stuff,” Amy told them, smiling wickedly.

II. Later Loser! (All Normal/HS AU)

“Later loser!” Faith shouted over the sound of the motorcycle speeding off and away from the park. Amy tried to ignore her as she walked in the opposite direction. Of course, that wasn’t exactly working, and even if she could ignore those words, that wouldn’t do anything about the pain in her chest.

But she made sure she didn’t look like she was hurting.

She still didn’t get what the hell Faith had done all that for. What kind of sick bitch takes a dare to date someone for two months just to dump them publicly and humiliatingly?

And I told her I’d been crushing on her for a year before it even started. So she knows just how much she hurt me.

One way or another, Amy was gonna get payback. Maybe she could start by breaking her douchebag boyfriend’s motorcyle.

Or maybe sabotaging the breaks on it...

That idea sounds like a plan. He’d been just as in on it as Faith.

III. Ever Kissed a Girl Before?

Faith laid down on the bed across from Amy’s and looked over at the half-asleep witch. Well, at least Faith was pretty sure she was just half asleep. 

She’d never really had the chance for slumber-parties when she’d been younger - not between her druggie mom and then a succession of foster homes before she quit school and the system and took care of herself.

But here she was, having a sleepover with the girl who had rapidly become her best friend - and Faith kinda wanted her to be something more.

More than kinda. Faith had done beating around the bush, but seemed like girls here in the ‘dale just didn’t get subtle sapphic flirting. So she was gonna go direct this time

“Psst!” Faith hissed over at Amy. “Are you awake?” 

Amy opened her eyes. “... am now.” She said, blinking repeatedly. “What?”

“Okay, so this is gonna sound all out of context, but I’m gonna ask you anyway: Ever kissed a girl before?”

Amy blinked once more, slowly, staring at her. She lifted her head up a little. “Ah... no?”

“Wanna try it?”

IV. Heart in the Window

“Come on Amy. Live a little!” Faith said through the open window. The teacher was out of the room for a few minutes, which is how Faith was getting away with this - none of the other students in the class were gonna complain about the excuse to watch something interesting. Except Willow, who was very obviously ignoring everything and focusing on the test in front of her.

“Faith, I have to finish this test...” Amy said, unable to stop the small smile forming on her face at the sight of her girlfriend. 

Faith said nothing in response, just backing out of the open window and moving over to the closed one right next to it. She leaned in, breathing on the glass, and Amy couldn’t take her eyes off Faith’s lips - damn that dark red shade looked good on her.

But when Faith drew a little heart in the condensation on the window... 

Fuck. Faith could always get her to do just about anything by saying - or in this case drawing - ‘I love you’.

“Fuck it. I can retake the taste another time.” Amy said, dropping her pen and getting out of her chair.

V. Help Yourself

When Amy had said that Faith could use the spare bedroom at he place, she had been a little surprised that the other girl had accepted the offer. She’d recognized a look in the other girl’s eyes, one she knew well from looking in the mirror. The ‘I don’t need help from fucking anyone’ look.

But... well, now the why of it seemed pretty damn clear, the way she was scarfing down dinner. Good thing dad always makes extra. 

“Hey, Amy, you don’t mind if I have some of your fries?” Faith asked, looking up as she walked towards the table. 

Amy blinked. “Uh - yeah, no. Go ahead.”

VI. She Still Pissed?

(This one takes place in the Aliciaverse - where Faith and Amy are married and have a daughter named Alicia)

Faith sat up hurriedly as Amy opened the door. “So... what’s the verdict? She still pissed at us?” Raising a six-year old didn’t come with any handbook, and what you were supposed to do when your kid got all sulky because you wouldn’t buy them a pony probably wouldn’t have been in one anyway.

“She’s your daughter too, what do you think?” Amy replied with a sigh, putting a hand on her hip. Faith couldn’t help but smile at that. “Yeah. She’s still angry. I think it’s mostly just for show though.” 

“Where does this thing with pink and ponies come from then? Not like either of us are into those?” Faith asked.

“I blame Cordelia for the ponies thing. Couldn’t begin to tell you where pink comes into things though.”

VII. Long Time

Amy rolled down the window of her parked car. “Faith? Faith!” She could hardly believe it. She hadn’t seen the other girl since the fall of Sunnydale, six years ago. They’d both been part of ‘Team Buffy’, fighting the First Evil and all that shit. Amy had decided that her issues with Willow could wait until the end of the world was prevented and joined up, and then Faith had come along a few months later. They’d had a few fun nights of stress relief before the end. But then she’d gone her seperate way from the Scoobies and new Slayers. 

“Amy.” Faith drew up short, a small smile forming on her face as she approached the car. “How are you? Long time.”

“Yeah. Doing pretty good. How about you? Here for Slaying?”

“What else would I be doing in a podunk little town like this? Wanna lend me a hand? Could use some of your magic.”

Amy’s mouth curved up in a smile. “Happy to. Drinks to celebrate? I know a pretty good bar nearby.”

VIII. Don’t Seem So Bad

“You know,” Faith started. “Willow warned me about you. Said you were all kinds of crazy and dangerous. That I should just knock you out and bring you in the easy way.” She shrugged, “Gotta say, you don’t seem so bad.”

“Well, Willow’s never really had much imagination.” Amy replied, chuckling. “She doesn’t think I’ve changed since Sunnydale. Doesn’t imagine I can, I guess. I’m used to that kind of shit from her now. That and her whole holier-than-thou schtick.”

Faith rolled her eyes. “Don’t even start. I get you don’t like Red, and that’s cool, you two got history, but she ain’t that bad, ‘kay? You haven’t seen her in five years either, so it’s not like you know what she’s like now either.”

Amy sighed, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, fine, alright. So... what’s the deal? You gonna take me in, or can I go make sure the pizza I have in the oven doesn’t burn?” 

Faith considered her options. She didn’t know what Willow and Buffy and the rest wanted Amy for, but she figured it wasn’t for anything that would actually hurt the chick. On the other hand, Faith didn’t like it when the scoobies treated her like an errand girl. Plus, she was hungry. She’d skipped lunch tracking this witch down.

“Depends. What kind of pizza, and do ya have room at the table for a guest?”

IX. Don’t Need a Light

“Thanks,” Amy said as she took the cigarette from Faith. She didn’t usually smoke, but once in a while - it helped take the edge off her low-burn, still there magic addiction. Seeing the girl who’d come home with her last night from the club smoking smoke had made her crave one for just that.

“Here,” Faith offered the lighter as well, but Amy shook her head. “Don’t need it.” She brought her hand up to the cigarette as she put it in her mouth and after a muttered spell, the thing was lit. 

“Shit, what are you, some kind of witch?” Faith asked casually, not freaked out at all, just sounding a little surprised. 

“Yeah. That a problem?” Amy took an empty beer bottle from last night off the fireplace mantle, dropping it in the trash.

“Nah. I know a few witches. Besides, Slayer here. Can’t call the fucking pot black and all that.”

“I don’t think that’s how it goes...” Amy said, then shook her head. “Whatever. So... Slayer. I used to know the Slayer, back when there was just one.”

“What, you went to school with Buffy or something?” Faith scoffed, as if that was hard to believe.

“Yeah. Buffy, Willow, Xander. I took classes with them and everthing. Rupert Giles was my librarian.” Amy shrugged, “Haven’t had anything to do with them in years though.”

Faith blinked, her brow furrowing. “Wait. Amy the rat?”

X. Second Date

“I was just... I dunno. Thinking about our date the other night...” Amy said, trying to hide her nervousness, curling the cord on her phone around one finger. “I - well... I was - wondering if you wanted to - there’s this new club I was looking to go to... wondering if you wanted to go with me? Like a second date and everything?” Amy said hurriedly, the words spilling out.

“Not against the idea.” Faith said slowly on the other end of the line. “Okay, no, I’ll be real, I’m likin’ the sound of that, but you really sure you wanna do that? I’m pretty fucked up, girl, and I’m never gonna get much better.”

“Faith, if you want to start comparing baggage, we could be at it all night,” Amy explained. “I’m not proposing. Not even suggesting we go steady or whatever. I like you, you like me, let’s have a date and see how it goes.” From what she remembers of Faith the one time they talked years ago in Sunnydale, before she’d turned herself into a rat, this approach to things would have been more Faith’s style. But they’d both changed a lot over the years.

Faith chuckled. “Alright. Then yeah. I’ll go on a second date with you.”