Lar ||| Buffy & Angel

Dirty Moves, Dirty Movies
by Lar

EMAIL: HERE
RATING: R
PAIRING: Lindsey/Xander
DISCLAIMER: Lindsey and Xander belong to M.E., not me.
SUMMARY: The games men will play. And the ways they will console themselves when things go horribly wrong.
A/N: Written for the Manathon for willshe_nillshe. She asked for -- a wrestling match in bed that ends in an accident (happy or otherwise), making fun of a bad porno movie. Her favorite thing about men is -- The way how, even when they drive you crazy, they have this little puppydog thing about them that makes you give in. Hope you like the fic, Willa!

---

"I am not having this discussion with you now."

Lindsey is using his best grown up voice, and Xander is ignoring it entirely. "I'm just saying, is all. If you had a cheesy moustache, you would totally look like that guy right there." Xander pauses the DVD again and points to the screen. Considering the position the man is in, bent over the bed with his bare ass all white and shiny in the camera, Lindsey is not flattered or impressed.

~*~*~*~

They're watching porn because there was a sudden and irreversible accident involving the Playstation2, a copy of "WWE Smackdown vs. RAW 2006" and Xander's inability to maneuver his wrestler without maneuvering himself. There's a lot of shoving as they sit perched on the end of the bed, Xander leaning over into Lindsey's space as he attempts to get Steve Austin to crush The Rock.

This is not making Lindsey's patience any greater, especially when he has to lunge to catch the console and The Rock gets pinned. He growls, shoves the Playstation back into place on the shelf next to the TV, and settles back on the bed again.

"The Rock goes down," Xander crows, shit-eating grin in place.

"You can't seriously believe that's counting," Lindsey says and resets the game. "Screw that, you cheated."

Xander stares at him. "You reset the game. I have to build him all over again. You have any idea how long that's gonna take?"

"Long enough for me to get a beer while you bitch like a little girl?" Lindsey asks and grins back at him, sauntering out to the kitchen. He drinks a beer, heats up a tray of bagel bites, walks back into the bedroom with it half-devoured. "Here, baby, stop your whinin'."

Xander scarfs the remaining bites and looks ready to go again. "I'm still going to kick your ass."

"Right. That'll happen." They start the match and within minutes Xander is twitching and squirming all over the place, a human joystick with a spastic need to flail about as if it will give more oomph to the computer generated image on the screen.

His foot tangles in the cord; he tries to throw a Neckbreaker with extra break and the console crashes to the floor. The tray whirs, tries to eject, makes the black box jerk with a pathetic little jiggle. There's a grinding sound and the TV screen shows a flickering black bar.

He looks from the ruination of the Playstation to Lindsey and clears his throat. "You want me to pick up a pizza on the way back from the movie store?"

~*~*~*~

That was three hours ago and Lindsey is still not a happy camper. "Xander, if you pause the goddamn DVD one more time, I'm gonna take the remote an' shove it up your-"

The exact location remains undisclosed as Xander points and clicks, and the bad music pops up loud and in stereo. The shiny white ass in question goes back to its badly choreographed and over lit pumping. After much bouncing and groaning, and enough shaky camera angles to make Xander tilt his head to the side on more than one occasion, there's finally a payoff shot. The focus goes fuzzy for a moment, then zooms in to an extreme close up of the spreading puddle on the belly of the dubiously named Lucky Starr.

"I don't know, you think his mother really named him Lucky?" Xander asks as he twitches his fingers towards the remote and then jerks them away when Lindsey glares at him warningly. "I mean, don't you think that smacks of just dooming your kid to a life starring in bad porn. Or as a rodeo clown? Or hey, both. I bet that he ends up doing rodeo clown porn."

"Sometimes I wonder how you remember to breathe in an' out," Lindsey sighs. He drinks his beer and shakes his head when Xander continues on with his theme.

"Big Top Lucky. Wait, no that's regular clown porn." Xander shudders a little and then turns to Lindsey, nudging his arm with his elbow. "Come on, help me out here. Git a Bone, Li'l Doggie? Opening shot is a bunch of cowboys on horseback and they pull back and it's a rodeo ring and they're all naked. And then in walks Lucky wearing his hat and his full clown face and nothing else. Spot light! Cue the music! Bow-chica-bow-bow..." He bites his lip and nods his head. "Yeah, rodeo clown porn, that's where he's gonna end up."

Lindsey rubs his hand over his face. "The scary part is, you're completely serious in there somewhere. I know you are. Don't bother giving me the look, you're not even offended. You're unoffendable."

"Hey I'm offendable!" Xander protests. "In fact, I'm officially offended. This is my 'completely offended' face." He turns away and lifts his chin, then turns back to the screen when the music kicks up.

Sadly, Lindsey catches himself turning back to the screen as well. Something about it just makes it impossible to resist. Might be that the damn movie's so dark that the only time you can see anything is when they turn on the high spots for the sex scenes. They both watch as Lucky moves on to his newest conquest, a man with no cheesy moustache but amazingly bad hair that seems as if it might actually be a prop.

"You picked this out? We paid money to put this thing in our DVD player?" Lindsey asks. "You are never allowed to pick the porn again. This is lame."

Xander tries to continue wielding his offended face, but then he lifts his hands in surrender. "OK, I can't even enjoy mocking it anymore. It's bad, and not in the fun way. It's bad in the way that makes me want to break it in little pieces and consider it my good deed to gay porn rentals everywhere." He reaches for the remote again but Lindsey catches his hand. "Come on, you just said it was bad, I can't even use the remote to stop the insanity?"

Lindsey shrugs and pulls Xander's hand over to his thigh; long fingers warm against the sheet. "Mighta been just a little bit hasty," Lindsey murmurs and nods towards the screen.

With the angle they have now, all that's really onscreen are the bodies of the men from the neck to the knees. No faces, just well toned bodies, one tanned with fine dark hair on his chest and the other paler, rangier, long limbed and silky-looking where his hip bone juts. The movie pauses, jumps once, then holds the view sharp and clear. Without the soundtrack, without the bad hair, without the harsh, forced-sounding groans, the image is just abstract enough to be beautiful. Just obvious enough to be hot as hell.

By the time the DVD's automatic power-off feature kicks in, neither one of them is watching anymore.

--end



back to top