 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
Mini-Fictions
Distraction
Pairing: Dawn/Andrew
Word Count: 1356
Warnings: It's semi-erotica, like semi-sweet chocolate. Only mildly erotic.
Spoilers: Set within Anywhere Out of This World, but in the near future.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Joss. This is for fun and fun alone. All hail the great and powerful Joss.
Dawn laid in his bed, propped on pillows, Willow’s laptop perched on her knees. She’d been in research mode
since their last failed-yet-stimulating spell hadn’t worked to restore Spike. She felt they’d been so close. Even
if it went all wonky in the end, they were getting somewhere.
Trouble was there were so many disruptions now. Xander and Maya meant well but were meddlesome. Neither
had any magics training. Maya had power, but it wasn’t focusy. Dawn had to admit she liked it better when she
and Andrew were alone.
Then again, Andrew could be fiendishly distracting on his own.
Like this morning, when he woke her with the unexpected phrase:
“I wanna shag you with your knee socks on.”
She’d rolled over to face him. She said, “Andrew! Don’t say that.”
“C’mon,” he said. “You worked, like, non-stop yesterday. Andy wants to play.”
Dawn brought her nose to his. “Don’t say shag,” she said somberly. “You sound like Spike.”
Andrew slid his hand down her thigh, over her knee and into the elastic band of the striped knee socks she
wore to bed at night. Winter was freezing in London, and somehow their bed linens seemed full-time damp.
Oddly, Andrew seemed turned on by the socks, and so she made a habit of wearing them whether it was cold
out or not.
“Do you with your knees socks on doesn’t quite have the same ring,” Andrew said.
Dawn elbowed him. “Stop it.”
Andrew put his mouth over her kneecap and bit down. It tickled like mad; she squealed and tackled him. He
knew her ticklish spots and attacked them without mercy, until finally, she managed to pin him, which seemed
to both like the ultimate win-win.
When they resurfaced from the tickle-fest, Dawn, breathless, said, “I didn’t know it could be like this. All fun
and playful.”
Andrew collapsed into the pillows as if struck. “Ahhh! My ego.”
“Stop,” she said. She fell into the pillows beside him. “You know what I mean. I thought sex was such serious,
sweaty business.”
Andrew stroked a stray hair from her forehead. It was growing out finally, becoming once more a cascade of
soft, brown silk. Most of the dye had rinsed out, but in strong sunlight she could still see the splotches of the
dull black that marred it.
“Oh, but it is, little one,” Andrew said wisely. “Besides, what we do isn’t sex.”
“If you say ‘make love,’ I’ll hit you again,” Dawn warned, pinching his forearm.
“Ow. I wasn’t!”
“You so were.”
Andrew propped up on one elbow. “I’m gonna kiss you, right there,” he said, touching a fingertip to the silken
skin of her inner arm. He followed up the motion with a brush of his lips. “Then, I’m gonna nibble your ear.”
The ear was nibbled. “And nuzzle your neck.” He pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat. Dawn inhaled
sharply at the lightness of his touch. She could feel Andrew’s smile curve against her flesh.
He sat back on his knees, his eyes agleam. “And then,” he said, “I’m gonna bite your nipple.”
Dawn flicked him. “Don’t say nipple.”
“Why not? It’s fun. Say it.”
“No!”
“Say it: Nipple nipple nipple nipple nipple.”
Dawn slapped teasingly at his shoulder. “Oh my God, stop that.”
Andrew bit his lip. “You try it. Tell me what you’re gonna do to me.”
“I’m not. I can’t…”
Andrew’s devilish grin spread to his eyes. “Do it. Do it. Dooooo it,” he said. “I dare you to do it.”
He dared her. Actually dared her. “Fine,” Dawn said. She sat up, mirroring his posture, her knees even with his.
Dawn swallowed. It was silly. How hard could it be to just speak it aloud? She cleared her throat and tried not
to fixate on any one feature.
“I’m gonna kiss… your eyelid,” Dawn said. She paused, horrified. “Eyelid?” she shouted. “I am completely
defective.”
“You’re not…” Andrew assured her.
“Yes I am. Kiss your eyelid? I am the Queen of Lame.”
Andrew looked as though someone had just told him Lucas was remaking Episodes I, II and III. “No one’s ever
kissed my eyelid before.”
“That’s because no one kisses eyelids, Andrew. Not unless they’re Dawn the Defecto-girl.”
“I think it’s hot,” Andrew said. “You should do it.”
Dawn suspected mocking. She shoved him backward. “Get off!”
“Really tryin’,” he said, eyebrows a-wiggle.
Dawn eyed him suspiciously. “You’re very distracting,” she said.
Andrew nodded. He put the seam of the bed sheet between his lips and looked up at her.
“Close your eyes,” she told him.
He did. Dawn stared at him. She realized that part of this was hurting her, and she didn’t even understand
why. She leaned forward, careful not to bump him with an elbow or topple him clean off the bed. She could
be unbelievably clumsy at the most inopportune times.
For a moment, all Dawn could do was hold her breath like she was about to make a wish and blow out the
candles on her birthday cake. When her lips met his eyelid, she felt his eyelashes on her chin, his breath on
her neck. She felt a swirl of chills on her skin. Her heart literally skipped a beat.
Dawn sat back on her heels, waiting for him to react.
Without opening his eyes, he whispered, “That was incredibly… erotic.”
Dawn smacked him. They rolled onto their backs to stare at the ceiling. He nested his one hand in hers. Her
pulse raced and she was pretty sure his did too. After a long pause, he said, “Is it supposed to – hurt – like
this?”
Dawn turned her face to his. “You’ve had something like this before,” she said. “With Nighna. Right?”
Andrew rubbed at his chest.
“Not like this,” he said, hoarsely.
Dawn stared at him; he continued to watch the ceiling.
“I’m glad I have you,” Dawn said. Saying it out loud was tougher on her than she thought it would be. Her
throat constricted, and she realized she was dangerously close to ruining the whole moment. “Otherwise…”
she floundered.
She saw him blink a few times and swallow. Be careful with him, she cautioned herself. He’s fragile. Tender…
Andrew turned to her. “So…,” he said, his voice thick in his throat. “About them knee socks.”
Dawn slung the blanket over them both and slid her body over his. She fumbled to shed her PJs, and then his T-
shirt, and their underpants, and by then they were all fervent and sweaty, and it did seem like serious
business. Except, well… except for the socks.
“Condoms… drawer,” he said, reaching. But she already knew it. She fished one out and in seconds he had it
securely fastened. They were getting good at this. Just like they were good at keeping quiet, because they
were secret lovers, and that was the best part. Dawn had Andrew, all to herself.
Andrew chewed his lip. He put his hand on her hip and guided her forward. Just before they joined, she
rolled to his side.
“You on top,” she ordered.
He was quick to oblige. He parted her legs, drew them around his body, and soon understood the reason for
the switch in their positions. Dawn brought her stocking-ed feet around his waist, trailed them over his
buttocks and down the back of his thighs. The wooliness of the socks against his skin caused ripples of chills
to course all the way up his back and to the soles of his feet, and he shivered.
Dawn arched her back so that her nipples brushed his. She hooked her ankles in the small of his back and
drew him inside her, delighting in the coarse rasp of her socks against his skin. It always startled her, that first
moment. Now matter how often they did it, it surprised her how well his parts filled hers.
“You are the most perfect girl,” he said.
Dawn kissed his brow, then wound her fingers into his hair.
“Shut up and shag me,” she said.
And he did. Twice.
Andrew could be fiendishly distracting.
Pairing: Dawn/Andrew
Word Count: 1356
Warnings: It's semi-erotica, like semi-sweet chocolate. Only mildly erotic.
Spoilers: Set within Anywhere Out of This World, but in the near future.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Joss. This is for fun and fun alone. All hail the great and powerful Joss.
Dawn laid in his bed, propped on pillows, Willow’s laptop perched on her knees. She’d been in research mode
since their last failed-yet-stimulating spell hadn’t worked to restore Spike. She felt they’d been so close. Even
if it went all wonky in the end, they were getting somewhere.
Trouble was there were so many disruptions now. Xander and Maya meant well but were meddlesome. Neither
had any magics training. Maya had power, but it wasn’t focusy. Dawn had to admit she liked it better when she
and Andrew were alone.
Then again, Andrew could be fiendishly distracting on his own.
Like this morning, when he woke her with the unexpected phrase:
“I wanna shag you with your knee socks on.”
She’d rolled over to face him. She said, “Andrew! Don’t say that.”
“C’mon,” he said. “You worked, like, non-stop yesterday. Andy wants to play.”
Dawn brought her nose to his. “Don’t say shag,” she said somberly. “You sound like Spike.”
Andrew slid his hand down her thigh, over her knee and into the elastic band of the striped knee socks she
wore to bed at night. Winter was freezing in London, and somehow their bed linens seemed full-time damp.
Oddly, Andrew seemed turned on by the socks, and so she made a habit of wearing them whether it was cold
out or not.
“Do you with your knees socks on doesn’t quite have the same ring,” Andrew said.
Dawn elbowed him. “Stop it.”
Andrew put his mouth over her kneecap and bit down. It tickled like mad; she squealed and tackled him. He
knew her ticklish spots and attacked them without mercy, until finally, she managed to pin him, which seemed
to both like the ultimate win-win.
When they resurfaced from the tickle-fest, Dawn, breathless, said, “I didn’t know it could be like this. All fun
and playful.”
Andrew collapsed into the pillows as if struck. “Ahhh! My ego.”
“Stop,” she said. She fell into the pillows beside him. “You know what I mean. I thought sex was such serious,
sweaty business.”
Andrew stroked a stray hair from her forehead. It was growing out finally, becoming once more a cascade of
soft, brown silk. Most of the dye had rinsed out, but in strong sunlight she could still see the splotches of the
dull black that marred it.
“Oh, but it is, little one,” Andrew said wisely. “Besides, what we do isn’t sex.”
“If you say ‘make love,’ I’ll hit you again,” Dawn warned, pinching his forearm.
“Ow. I wasn’t!”
“You so were.”
Andrew propped up on one elbow. “I’m gonna kiss you, right there,” he said, touching a fingertip to the silken
skin of her inner arm. He followed up the motion with a brush of his lips. “Then, I’m gonna nibble your ear.”
The ear was nibbled. “And nuzzle your neck.” He pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat. Dawn inhaled
sharply at the lightness of his touch. She could feel Andrew’s smile curve against her flesh.
He sat back on his knees, his eyes agleam. “And then,” he said, “I’m gonna bite your nipple.”
Dawn flicked him. “Don’t say nipple.”
“Why not? It’s fun. Say it.”
“No!”
“Say it: Nipple nipple nipple nipple nipple.”
Dawn slapped teasingly at his shoulder. “Oh my God, stop that.”
Andrew bit his lip. “You try it. Tell me what you’re gonna do to me.”
“I’m not. I can’t…”
Andrew’s devilish grin spread to his eyes. “Do it. Do it. Dooooo it,” he said. “I dare you to do it.”
He dared her. Actually dared her. “Fine,” Dawn said. She sat up, mirroring his posture, her knees even with his.
Dawn swallowed. It was silly. How hard could it be to just speak it aloud? She cleared her throat and tried not
to fixate on any one feature.
“I’m gonna kiss… your eyelid,” Dawn said. She paused, horrified. “Eyelid?” she shouted. “I am completely
defective.”
“You’re not…” Andrew assured her.
“Yes I am. Kiss your eyelid? I am the Queen of Lame.”
Andrew looked as though someone had just told him Lucas was remaking Episodes I, II and III. “No one’s ever
kissed my eyelid before.”
“That’s because no one kisses eyelids, Andrew. Not unless they’re Dawn the Defecto-girl.”
“I think it’s hot,” Andrew said. “You should do it.”
Dawn suspected mocking. She shoved him backward. “Get off!”
“Really tryin’,” he said, eyebrows a-wiggle.
Dawn eyed him suspiciously. “You’re very distracting,” she said.
Andrew nodded. He put the seam of the bed sheet between his lips and looked up at her.
“Close your eyes,” she told him.
He did. Dawn stared at him. She realized that part of this was hurting her, and she didn’t even understand
why. She leaned forward, careful not to bump him with an elbow or topple him clean off the bed. She could
be unbelievably clumsy at the most inopportune times.
For a moment, all Dawn could do was hold her breath like she was about to make a wish and blow out the
candles on her birthday cake. When her lips met his eyelid, she felt his eyelashes on her chin, his breath on
her neck. She felt a swirl of chills on her skin. Her heart literally skipped a beat.
Dawn sat back on her heels, waiting for him to react.
Without opening his eyes, he whispered, “That was incredibly… erotic.”
Dawn smacked him. They rolled onto their backs to stare at the ceiling. He nested his one hand in hers. Her
pulse raced and she was pretty sure his did too. After a long pause, he said, “Is it supposed to – hurt – like
this?”
Dawn turned her face to his. “You’ve had something like this before,” she said. “With Nighna. Right?”
Andrew rubbed at his chest.
“Not like this,” he said, hoarsely.
Dawn stared at him; he continued to watch the ceiling.
“I’m glad I have you,” Dawn said. Saying it out loud was tougher on her than she thought it would be. Her
throat constricted, and she realized she was dangerously close to ruining the whole moment. “Otherwise…”
she floundered.
She saw him blink a few times and swallow. Be careful with him, she cautioned herself. He’s fragile. Tender…
Andrew turned to her. “So…,” he said, his voice thick in his throat. “About them knee socks.”
Dawn slung the blanket over them both and slid her body over his. She fumbled to shed her PJs, and then his T-
shirt, and their underpants, and by then they were all fervent and sweaty, and it did seem like serious
business. Except, well… except for the socks.
“Condoms… drawer,” he said, reaching. But she already knew it. She fished one out and in seconds he had it
securely fastened. They were getting good at this. Just like they were good at keeping quiet, because they
were secret lovers, and that was the best part. Dawn had Andrew, all to herself.
Andrew chewed his lip. He put his hand on her hip and guided her forward. Just before they joined, she
rolled to his side.
“You on top,” she ordered.
He was quick to oblige. He parted her legs, drew them around his body, and soon understood the reason for
the switch in their positions. Dawn brought her stocking-ed feet around his waist, trailed them over his
buttocks and down the back of his thighs. The wooliness of the socks against his skin caused ripples of chills
to course all the way up his back and to the soles of his feet, and he shivered.
Dawn arched her back so that her nipples brushed his. She hooked her ankles in the small of his back and
drew him inside her, delighting in the coarse rasp of her socks against his skin. It always startled her, that first
moment. Now matter how often they did it, it surprised her how well his parts filled hers.
“You are the most perfect girl,” he said.
Dawn kissed his brow, then wound her fingers into his hair.
“Shut up and shag me,” she said.
And he did. Twice.
Andrew could be fiendishly distracting.