Respect

By: The Red Jeweled Priestess

Introduction: I’m not quite sure why I wrote this. I never liked the idea of Tucker and Andrew being a couple but after running out of good slash I read a few and felt the need to write a short one. It doesn’t really have the plot, I’m not sure where I was trying to go in the beginning. But it works ok. I think. I hope.

Disclaimer: All characters are the property of Joss Whedon.

Oh, and this probably isn’t appropriate for children, R maybe?

Spoilers: Prom and Seeing Red

 

Ice cold. That’s how it always felt. Cold, like someone has dropped ice into his heart so it pumps through his entire body making him colder than cold. That’s how it always felt. He over heard once that love was hot and burning, but he _was_ in love and it was cold. He always loved him. The cold look in his eyes. The cold skin of his hands. The chill his kisses always sent shooting up his spine. Colder than cold. And yet this was love.

 

“Do you believe in love?” Andrew asked his brother once when he was a Sophomore and his brother was a Senior.

 

“No,” Was the response, “Should I?” He had snorted and left the room leaving the blonde alone in the kitchen with his thoughts. Which was not anything he wanted to do again.

 

Andrew always loved him. A deep set love that made him cold whenever they were in the same room. Cold that made him stutter like an idiot and humiliate him into a stressed silence. He could never bring himself to say what he needed to say. Never bring himself to ask what he needed to ask.

 

“Hush,” He was always told, “Don’t talk now.” And he wouldn’t talk. Tossing vital words aside in exchange for pleasure and the illusion of love.

 

“What would you do if I died?” Warren asked once.

 

“You won’t die,” Andrew assured, pulling the blanket covering them both up his chest and uncovering his toes.

 

“But what if I did?”

 

“It’s silly to even think about that.”

 

“Answer. For me.”

 

“I don’t know. I guess I would die a little bit too. The thought of it makes me feel like something nasty has crawled into my mind and died there and I can’t get it out.”

 

“Interesting description.”

 

“I don’t remember where I heard it,” Andrew rolled over and stared at the dark ceiling, “Why do you even ask?”

 

“Because I want to know,” Warren leaned over, gently kissing Andrew, “I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

“Do you?”

 

“Of course.”

 

For some reason hearing that hurt him. Assured that everything was going to be fine and his life was happy but it felt as if that dead thing in his stomach was starting to twitch and kick. Like it continued to decay but now it was moving around as well. Probably because he knew it wasn’t true. Could see in Warren’s eyes that it wasn’t true. That it was all a ruse. A clever ruse that not only kept him in check and reminded him that Warren was the leader but also as a lover. Never say no. Let him kiss you. Let him touch you. Never say no. Kiss him. Touch him. Never say no.

 

It always reminded Andrew of stormy nights. Nights when his parents were out late and his brother would come into his room around 10, after he had crawled into bed. He would put his arms around him and just lay there. Andrew never had the courage to tell him no. And even after holding moved past, he still could never say no. Changing that fear, that inability, into love. He couldn’t say no because he loved him. Loved Tucker. Loved Warren.

 

“You know what a Hell hound is?” He remembered being asked.

 

“No,” Wordless.

 

“Come here, I’ll show you,” When Andrew was young enough that he fallowed Tucker around like a puppy their father had built the elder a sanctuary, a place to get away from his younger brother. And it had worked successfully until several years earlier when it had become both boys’ sanctuary. When flesh on flesh was not acceptable in the house. And now it was Tucker’s sanctuary once again. Him and his dogs.

 

“What are you going to do with them?”

 

“Get the respect I deserve.”

 

Andrew never questioned. Never said no. Never said a word.

 

“What’s so important? What are you going to do at the Bronze?” Jonathon asked. “The Slayer might see us.”

 

“Get the respect I deserve.”