MCA0, Sunday Evening

[needsaparrot]

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.]

Comments

[needsaparrot]

Horizontal is... well, okay, it's a little nervousmaking, but it's also good. Like, capital G good, and by the way oh HI THERE bit that I don't currently have but at least one of us does.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Hi," Bridge says softly once horizontal-ness is achieved.

[needsaparrot]

Bits, plural Xander corrects in his head, a little feverishly. "Hi," he says back, aloud.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"And you've got something *I* don't have at the moment," Bridge points out, a little unneccessarily.

[needsaparrot]

"Lack of telepathy?" Xander grins.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Also that, yes," Bridge grins back.

[needsaparrot]

"Among other things, yeah." Xander slides the edge of his hand down Bridge's bicep, kind of amused that whoa, hi arms hasn't remotely changed in this body.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Mmm-huh," Bridge agrees, shivering a little at the touch.

[needsaparrot]

And maybe Xander feels like doing a little exploring too. After all, he may have been here before, but not with these hands. Or these lips.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

Bridge? Is really, really not objecting. Exploring is all good, whether he is the explorer or the exploree.

[needsaparrot]

And hips and arms and legs and other curvy parts fit together differently in this combination, Xander's neither totally surprised, nor at all unhappy to discover, running his hands over Bridge's back, and then further down.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

Differently, yes, but they still do fit together, which is good because this is him and Xander and Bridge can't even fathom the possibility of the two of them ever *not* fitting together.

[needsaparrot]

Eventually, though, Xander looks up, his arm wrapped around Bridge's waist, one leg curled over the back of Bridge's, and says, "So..."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Yeah," Bridge says. "Should I, um..." there's a glance and a vague hand gesture in the direction of the nightstand, or at least, the drawer in the nightstand.

[needsaparrot]

"Oh, Hell yes." Which... almost comes out in Xander's normal voice, it's so emphatic.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Right," Bridge says, and with some creative stretching and no small amount of fumbling manages to reach said drawer with only a minimal amount of letting-go-of-Xander-ing. "Right. Okay. I'm good. Are you good? Oh, this is so not exactly romantic-talk here, isn't it?" he's babbling, juuust a little.

[needsaparrot]

"I'm..." Xander could say something reassuring that he doesn't entirely feel, but it's not like Bridge isn't touching him. "Still freaked. But I'm still me, too. And me still loves you."

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"You," Bridge murmurs, "are the most amazing, wonderful person I know. I hope you know that." And then, slowly, he's moving even *closer*, burying his face in Xander's shoulder while further down other parts are doing that fitting-together thing.

[needsaparrot]

You're probably supposed to do something after you breathe in, right? Xander's pretty sure you are. Like, um. Blink? No, that wasn't it. Stare? Well, he's definitely doing that but it's not quite fixing the prob-- oh yeah.

Breathe out.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

"Breathing's- breathing's good," Bridge whispers against Xander's skin, apparently taking his own advice, judging from the way he gasps that out.

[needsaparrot]

Xander tries that again, and discovers there's a whole pattern to it: in, out, in, out... Which is kind of appropriate, he supposes, with as much brain as he's got left to suppose anything with.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

Really not a lot of supposing going on in Bridge's mind, either. The in and out thing, on the other hand... yeah.

[needsaparrot]

Some insanely calm, and therefore clearly tiny, portion of Xander's thinky-thing is busy being absurdly grateful that Willow's spell was specific enough not to take never did this before literally, in the physical sense. Not that he's planning to thank her for that because there's a whole never speak of this again deal, but still. It doesn't hurt. It's just strange, still strange, but shading into good, shading into unnnnnnghgggh when Bridge moves just. right.

[bridge-carson.livejournal.com]

Not-hurting is good, the portion of *Bridge*'s brain that's still being all rational-thinky, well, thinks. He's never been real big on causing pain, after all.

And he'd been worried, before, that he wouldn't be able to figure out what "just right" was. But *that* seemed to work, so he does it again.

[needsaparrot]

Xander doesn't have breath for a second, even though he remembers to do it; he just can't. So he can only think: Yeah, that.