needsaparrot | MCA0, Sunday Evening

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MCA0, Sunday Evening

Okay, Xander, not usually a candlelight kind of guy, but then today's not exactly a usual kind of day. When you've been dating somebody for eighty-five years, give or take one, or possibly that's the other way around, your anniversary ought to be a little out of the ordinary, right?

Right, a little. Right. So Xander's taken the time to set up various things picked up on the mainland yesterday, as well as one retrieved from the Post Office, express mail from Brazil. The apartment's flickering with soft gold light, and Xander's waiting more than a little nervously for Bridge to let himself in.

This is a good idea, right? Right. Really. Right. Right.

[OOC: For the soon to be bewildered b-word-person. That Bridge showed up is fine for broadcast, what he finds... not so much. Eventually NWS.]

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"I'm thinking I like the way you're thinking," Bridge says, taking Xander's hand and following.

"I'm thinking you should kiss me again," Xander says, once he's pulled Bridge into the bedroom with him and shut the door behind them. Not that they've made it anywhere near the bed yet.

Bridge doesn't say anything in response to that, because he's got Xander up against the now-closed door and is kissing him. There's a brief moment of awkwardness, though, as he adjusts to the fact that they're the same height and he doesn't need to tilt his head up the way he usually does.

This is...different. More different than before. Differentier. With the pressing. Not that they haven't done dooring and pressing and kissing and other things that end in ing before, but the parts of Xander reacting to it are not the usual parts. Because he doesn't have the usual parts, and he doesn't usually have these ones.

Except for the heart and the lungs, they're more or less the same, but maybe both working a lot harder right now than they usually do.

One of those things that ends in ing would be the exploring that Bridge's hands are currently doing, because the parts that are there now are all, well... curvy. And he's not used to that.

That makes two of them. The exploring, Xander's used to that, but it's not his body, not his skin that's being touched, that feels unnaturally hot and cold at the same time, that shifts forward into Bridge's hands. And yet it is.

"Clothes," Bridge manages after breaking the kiss. "We need to not be wearing them now." Starting with shirts, apparently, as he makes quick work of his own and then his hands are back on Xander. There's no hesitation, this time, as he pulls the shirt up and over his head.

"Oh, um. Hi. Wow." He's kind of staring a little, now. He can't help it.

Xander is kind of... detangling his hair from the shirt for a second there, but then he looks down and flushes. More than he already had been, which granted is shades of shades of pink. "So, um. Apparently I have a nice rack. Who knew."

"Well, we do, now, I guess," Bridge points out logically, hands slowly sliding up bare skin. There's a bit of fumbling with the bra clasp, unfamiliar as that particular step in the undressing process is, but eventually that's taken care of too, and he's leaning in for another kiss.

And that's... hands. Hands on his skin and then hands and lips and and then Bridge's chest pressing against him with nothing in between them and HI WOW, those work a little different than the kind of pointless ones that came standard with his usual body-model.

"S'good?" Bridge murmurs. Not that he can't actually tell already, but he feels the need to actually ask. He dips his head down, then, to place a kiss along Xander's collarbone, and then... lower.

And then there's more fumbling as pants are very, very uncomfortable right now and so he's trying to take care of that but at the same time he really doesn't want to let go of Xander, like, ever.

"Oh, Jesus, Buddha, Krishna, Moses, Flying Spaghetti Monster and everybody but Glory because I really still hate that bitch." That's sort of an answer.

Edited 2008-04-15 16:38 (UTC)

"Taking that as a yes," Bridge says, and then there's tugging bed-wards.

Bed-wards is a place of goodness, and Xander's all too willing to be tugged. Somewhere on the floor there's a couple of shirts and a bra, and the air in the room is cool against his bare skin, but that actually helps because literally catching on fire would be... not a place of goodness.

And hey look, his hands are free, or at least one of them, and undoing Bridge's jeans? He's really good at that.

That's much better. Much, much better. The tugging then becomes tumbling once they actually reach the bed, and then there's tugging of a different sort as Bridge reaches down to help Xander out of those slightly-too-big jeans that *he's* wearing.

Edited 2008-04-16 03:14 (UTC)

Under said jeans, Bridge would find something that looked a lot like this. ...Not precisely dirty.

Which causes Bridge to stop, and stare a little, and then look back up at Xander.

"You're wearing green," he says, pointing out the obvious while grinning like a huge dork. "Did you... you totally went *shopping*!" Which, logically he knows Xander must've, because the clothes he'd been wearing definitely weren't the kind that would fit him normally, and it wasn't Fandom weirdness this time so there would've been no magically appearing clothes, but... this just makes it sink in.

Edited 2008-04-16 03:43 (UTC)

"There's a Victoria's Secret in Alexandria I'm never setting foot in again, is all I'm saying." Xander waves a hand towards the clothing-strewn floor. "The bra was green too, y'know."

Bridge just looks at him. "I was a little busy paying attention to *other things* at the moment."

Xander grins, and heaves a sigh whose emphasis of those other things is not remotely unintentional as he kicks his jeans to the floor. "Good to know that fifty bucks was well-spent."

"...Sorry," Bridge mumbles apologetically, if a bit distractedly because oh, hi, *bouncy*.

"Well, it's not like a don't have a whole drawer full of things I never want to have to explain to anybody not you, now. I had to guess at sizes, so there's like, four of everything."

"I love you so much, you know," Bridge says fondly, fingers of one hand running lightly across Xander's back, eventually slipping underneath elastic.

Xander, kneeling now, presses closer to Bridge as his hands slide over more places that they've been a million times, yet haven't ever. "Right back at ya."

A happy "Mmm," is all Bridge manages in response to that as he attempts to help almost-naked Xander become naked-Xander.

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