It was stupid. Even as his mouth opened he knew it was stupid, and rude, and, and speciesist.
“You’re green,” Xander observed. “Like, really really green.”
The green demon (really green) rolled his eyes. (At least he hadn’t commented on the red eyes. Or offered some visine. Could always be worse!) He cocked his head and affected surprise as he checked his hands. “Would you look at that? I am green!”
Xander blushed. “Yeah, but at least you’re not an idiot.”
Lorne waved the comment away. “At least you’re not pretending it’s make-up. Xander, right?”
“Yep,” he nodded. “Xander ‘Foot-in-Mouth’ Harris, at your service.”
“At my service, huh, cupcake?” Lorne leered. “That could be fun.”
Xander uttered a strangled sound as his eyes went wide. He would have corrected him, but Lorne was called away right then, so he was stuck with just watching the other man move around the crowded karaoke bar.
“Relax,” Angel murmured into Xander’s ear, “he’s harmless.”
Xander yelped and spun to face the vampire. “Bell! I’m getting you a bell!” He glanced back at Lorne. “And harmless? He’s bigger than I am!”
Angel smirked then shrugged. “He’s a pussycat.”
Xander snorted. Harmless pussycat. Yeah, right.
Lorne grinned. “Sweetie, I love music. Music, musicals, musical toys…” He frowned slightly. “Muzak, not so much.”
Xander snorted. “No one likes Muzak. The inventor of Muzak had his ears surgically sealed so he didn’t have to hear any more of it.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Didn’t last long, though, ‘cause he was kidnapped and offered up in a demonic sacrifice. Last I heard, Sweet had his ears cleaned out, and had locked him into a room with non-stop Muzak.”
Lorne stared at the other man, jaw sagging in shock. “Really?” he whispered hoarsely.
Xander flashed a grin. “A guy can hope, can’t he?”
Lorne scoffed, and shoved at Xander. “That was not nice, getting a guy’s hopes up like that.” He pouted. “I think you owe me an apology.”
Xander pouted back at his friend, and fluttered his eyelashes. “I’m sowwy.”
Lorne sniffed. “Put that lip away before I make use of it.”
Xander sidled closer, aware that he was flirting, but not quite sure how to stop himself. If he should stop himself. “And what kind of use would you make of it?”
Lorne caught his breath.
Angel glared at his … what was she? Secretary? No, and he would never refer to her as such. She scared him. “How exactly did I start this? I recall a distinct lack of match-making on my part.”
“You disapproved of the friendship,” Cordelia shrugged. “Openly.”
“I didn’t disapprove,” Angel argued.
Cordelia answered with a raised eyebrow.
“I just thought… Well, you know Xander and demons… And Lorne could do so much better,” Angel finished, glad to be able to make some kind of point.
Cordelia crossed her arms. “You said – and I quote – ‘He’s a demon, Xander, and he can break you in two. Go home!’”
“But he is,” Angel protested, “and he could!” He narrowed his eyes. “And I really wish he would,” he muttered.
“And?” Cordelia prompted.
Angel frowned as he considered Xander’s previous lovers and crushes. “It’s not my fault he’d take that as a recommendation of a boyfriend. And since when is Xander gay, anyway?”
“Oh, please!” Cordelia scoffed. “He’s always had an eye on the guys around him. Tell me you didn’t smell the pheromones whenever you two fought.”
Angel hunched his shoulders. No comment.