"Warren!" whined Andrew, fidgeting restlessly on the large beanbag. "I'm sick of being down here in this stupid basement all the time! I know supervillains live in underground lairs, but… but they also have cool cars! And big, fancy complex computer systems for formulating master plans! Not a couple of old scooters and… and a dusty old white board! I mean, we could have at least gotten a… lair with a… a view…"

Andrew's voice faltered as Warren kneeled in front of him, his dark eyes looking intently into his own faded blue. Andrew gulped. Warren knew how to shut him up, and he also knew that it really didn't take much. It wasn't fair.

"Okay, Andrew, first of all, we do have a computer system," said Warren, a tint of irritability apparent in his tone. "And even if we could afford fancy cars, we wouldn't be able to drive them, anyway. The Slayer is out there, and you know we can't risk her finding us. You understand?"

"Um… yeah, I guess... but…" Andrew bit his lip, discomfort splayed across his face.

"What?" Warren snapped, looking at the blonde boy with a confused and irritated expression.

"Well, um…" Andrew glanced down at his knee, which was currently being squeezed tightly by the other man's fingers. Warren looked down, surprise replacing annoyance on his features.

"Oh…!" Warren loosened his grip and gave Andrew an apologetic look. "Sorry about that…" He began to gently massage the knee, easing the pain he inflicted upon it just a moment ago. Andrew melted at the caress. Warren could be surprisingly gentle when he wanted to be.

The taller man sighed softly and removed his hand from Andrew's knee, lifting himself from the floor before dropping onto the beanbag. His body pressed up against the other man as he casually placed an arm around his shoulder. Andrew felt a small shiver creep down his spine as he became extremely aware of their closeness.

"You see, Andrew," Warren began, his body shifting knowingly, "If we want to get all of the cool stuff we've been dreaming about, we have to work for it. Y'know, move up the food chain."

Andrew nodded absentmindedly, focusing on the feel of Warren's warm figure brushing up against his own rather than the motivational speech.

"And if we want to work our way up," he continued, his voice growing lower and huskier by the second, "we have to start with the little things… whiteboards, vans, whatever."

"Don't forget Jonathan," Added Andrew, an awkward half-grin forming on his face as he attempted to keep his cool. He found it exceptionally difficult to participate in the conversation, especially since Warren had begun to plant small kisses on his neck, his lips warm against his skin. Andrew could feel the man smile against him.

"Don't worry. Short Round will be gone soon," Warren said between kisses, his left hand rubbing idly at Andrew's chest through his shirt. "And that'll leave us. Just you and me." Andrew shivered slightly at the words.

Then Warren began to work his way down.

End