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Real For A Night

Chapter Text

Bonnie was sleeping. Her small body made a rounded hill under her covers. Her toys crept past her bed, single file, on their way to her spacious closet. Mr. Pricklepants boosted Woody so that he could turn the knob. Once the door was open, they scurried inside, giggling and trying to hush the sound.

Buzz glowed in the dark, but there was a flashlight in a shoebox in the back corner of the closet. Hamm and Rex brought it over. One of them pressed the switch and warm yellow light shone around at the faces.

Bonnie had developed a recent obsession with the Disney Fairies, particularly the most famous one Tinkerbell. Today Bonnie's mother had bought Bonnie the Tinkerbell DVD and a Tinkerbell figurine. Tonight's little get together was to welcome the new addition to the household.

"All right," Woody shushed the excited whispers, standing on another shoe box. "Let's everyone just settle down and give Tink here a chance to introduce herself." Woody turned to the pretty little blonde and placed a hand on his chest. "I'm Woody. Let me be the first to welcome you to Bonnie's Room."

They all introduced themselves. Tink was busy hugging Peaty, one of the peas-in-a-pod, as she looked at all of them happily. "It's so nice to meet all of you! I, of course, am Tinkerbell." She gave a small curtsy, squeezing Peaty as she did so.

Rex stumped over to her, maneuvering so that he could sit next to her in the circle they formed. "Tell us about yourself, Tink… I can call you Tink, right?"

The little pixie giggled, making most of the males present sigh appreciably. "Of course. You all can."

She told them lots of amusing stories about her life, the other fairies, her adventures. They listened in awe, relishing this new toy among them, this opportunity for enrichment to their familiar lives. Tink was a good listener in turn, hearing about their exploits with wide-eyed excitement. She got along with everyone easily and was dead useful when it came to fixing anything in Bonnie's room.

The toys met every night in the closet, and every night was a new tale, more fun.


One night, after Buzz was relating to Tink's regret that her wings were incapable of real flight, the subject of her pixie dust came up.

"So this stuff let's you fly?" Buzz said, fingering the grains she sprinkled into his hand.

"In my movies and books it does," she said in her melodious voice. "I think it's like your laser, though. Doesn't work in real life."

Later, Buzz and Woody sat on Bonnie's windowsill, talking quietly. It was their nightly routine. All the other toys were asleep.

"Wonder if Andy's doing all right in college," Woody mused.

"I'm sure he is," Buzz said in his confident voice. "He's a smart kid."

"Yeah." Woody gazed up at the moon, still privately ashamed to be enjoying his new life with Bonnie more than he'd enjoyed the last few years with Andy.

Buzz was looking at Woody's profile. He understood his friend, though Woody probably didn't think so. He thought Buzz was still pretty much an idiot. "It's okay to like it here," he said softly now. "Andy would want us to be happy. It's why he told Bonnie to take good care of us."

Woody nodded, somehow not surprised to learn that Buzz knew him so well. He looked behind him to where Bonnie lay snoring. "What must it be like to be human? To have your life change over time?"

Buzz shrugged, turning to stare at a car as it moved quietly down the deserted street. "Probably like being a real toy, being able to do all those things I thought I could do."

Woody thought about this, then snorted a laugh. "You're impossible, Buzz. Being human is nothing like being a toy. Humans get to do things. Real things."

"Real toys do real things."

Woody shook his head. "That's just it, toys aren't real. I tell you what, though, if I were ever human, I would show you what real is."

They both paused, the statement sinking in. Buzz looked at Woody from the corner of his eye, an expression the cowboy had never seen on him before. Woody folded his arms, grumbling to himself about the stupidity of modern toys.

The next night, while they were all in the closet, they had a game of pretending they were all fairies in Pixie Hollow. Tink led them all in a merry escapade until Rex said he wanted some of the pixie dust. Tink sprinkled some on him, but then everyone else wanted some too. The fairy laughed, scrambling around the shoes and boots in the closet. "Catch me if you can, then you can have some!"

A furious chase ensued, wherein the dust was the prize. There was screaming laughter from all until Bullseye tripped Tinkerbell. The sack flew from her hands and Woody made a leap for it at the same moment that Buzz did.

They landed in a tangle of limbs and glittery pixie dust, tugging the sack back and forth between them.

"I had it first," Buzz shouted.

"No, I did! Let go, Buzz!"

Tink righted herself and laughed with the rest, pointing at the hilarious sight of Woody and Buzz fighting over pixie dust. Her laugh slowly died down as she saw that the dust was beginning to glow.

Others began noticing. "Uh, guys?" Hamm said nervously.

"You can never admit when you're wrong, can you Buzz? You're so stubborn," Woody said as he gave a yank on the sack.

Buzz yanked back. "Least I'm not some aged cowboy relic from the previous century, old-timer!"

"Guys, will you look at what's happening?" Slink moaned. The dust was starting to outshine the flashlight.

Woody bared his teeth. "Give it here!" Yank.

"No, you give it!" Yank, yank.

"Guys," everyone shouted, but it was too late. The sack tore and the dust flew everywhere, coating Woody and Buzz liberally. That was bad, but not as bad as the fact that both Woody and Buzz were starting to rise into the air. There was a collective gasp from the watching cluster of toys. Tink had her hands over her mouth, eyes wide.

Woody froze as he saw a coat sleeve sail past his head. He looked down… then grabbed frantically onto Buzz. "Oh my god, Buzz! We're flying!"

Buzz looked around. He grinned, then threw his fist into the air. "To infinity… and beyo-"

The pixie dust surrounding Buzz and Woody seemed to ignite. It surrounded them in a blinding halo of light, cutting off Buzz's catchphrase as everyone shielded their eyes. There was brief silence, then a dull roar as the light grew even brighter, heating the interior of the closet unbearably for a few breathless moments. The light winked out as two loud thumps that shook the entire closet had the toys scrambling around in fright. The flashlight was kicked by someone and went out.


Some time passed before Buttercup could be heard whispering. "Is everyone all right?"

Trixie's voice was a whimper. "I think so. Ooh, someone get the flashlight, I don't like this darkness!"

"Woody?" Slink called. "Buzz? Y'all okay?"

Some huge thing shuffled in the dark closet. Hamm and Mr. Potato Head could be heard arguing, but then the flashlight was clicked on and everyone was staring at four large shoes that hadn't been in Bonnie's closet before.

Mr. Potato Head and Hamm had the flashlight gripped between them, their fight over it forgotten. They angled the light now at those foreign, yet familiar shoes, moving the beam slowly upward.

The shoes were actually boots. Two pairs, one white, the other the dusty brown common to well-worn leather. The light revealed sturdy legs in both pairs of boots, knees, thighs, torsos-

A hand shielded a face beneath a brown leather hat. The face winced. "Save that light, will you?" The voice was loud in the confines of the closet, though it had been pitched low.

Rex screamed and pointed. "Woody and Buzz have been turned into monsters! Run for your lives!" And he attempted to do just that, Trixie hot on his tail.

"No," Tink whispered behind her hands. "They've been turned human!"

That got everyone's attention. Buzz, who'd been in the process of gritting his teeth against a bout of dizziness, straightened from where he'd been holding up the wall. He stared down at the terrified faces of the tiny dolls. "Huh? Wha-what do you mean human?" He gasped, taking in the size of his friends anew. He slowly raised his gloved hands to his face.

Woody was alternating between looking Buzz up and down and looking down at the toys. "No." His hand flew to his face, feeling warm skin instead of hard wood. "What the hell?"

"The pixie dust," the tiny fairy moaned in dismay. "You must have wished on the pixie dust and activated it!"

Buzz tried to take a step and nearly crushed several of his friends. They ran out of the way of his heavy boots. "Now just a second here-"

"Shhhh!" Dolly hissed.

They were all quiet as Bonnie could be heard murmuring in her sleep. Buzz continued in a whisper. "I didn't wish on anything! I thought you said that stuff doesn't work?"

"Well, it never has before," Tink cried.

"Ah, how would you know?" Hamm said forcefully. "You're fresh from the store shelves, who would you have tried it on?"

The others agreed in murmuring whispers that Hamm had a point. Tinkerbell wrung her hands in distress.

Woody and Buzz sized each other up, taking in this concept slowly. "What do we do now?" Woody asked.

"And how long will it last?" Chuckles added. "I doubt Bonnie or her mother are going to ignore two large men in the house."

Woody frowned. "He's right."

"It will probably only last until the morning," Tink said. It was 9:30 now.

Buzz moved carefully towards the closet door and opened it. Bonnie was scratching her hair, but still sleeping. "Woody and I need to get out of the house until this wears off," he hissed.

As usual, Buzz was taking control of the situation. Woody's lips thinned, but he couldn't disagree with the obvious. He took a step and bit back a curse as his spurs jangled. The cracked door let in a modicum of light. Someone switched the flashlight off. Tiny sounds revealed the other toys scurrying through the crack in the door, on their way back to the toy box.

That was it? Woody thought. They were just going to leave him and Buzz to their own devices? But then he heard the reason for their running: Bonnie's mother was coming up the stairs in the hall… and Wednesday nights she always did laundry, which meant she'd be coming to the closet to hang up Bonnie's clean clothes.

Woody thumped Buzz hard on the shoulder. He doubted the man felt the blow through his spacesuit. "We need to move or we'll be discovered!"

Buzz nodded. They slipped out of the closet, but had no time to escape. The door to Bonnie's room was opening.

Jessie watched in terror as Bonnie's mother entered the room, a basket of clothes balanced on her hip. Light from the hall flooded the room as she made her way to her daughter's bed… under which Woody was now flattened. She leaned down and kissed Bonnie's cheek, making the girl murmur. A sock fell off the pile of clothes in the laundry, landing right near Woody's face. Bonnie's mother leaned down to pick it up. Rex, watching from beneath the lid of the toy box with everyone else, let out a tiny moan of hysteria.

Buzz had slipped back into the closet. He dashed out now while Bonnie's mother was bent over. Though his boots made no sound, his shadow cast a brief, wild flicker across the room as he passed into the hall light. Bonnie's mother gasped and straightened up to look behind her. Woody took the opportunity to move the sock farther away from the bed. The toys all held their breath, shivering in fear as this drama played out before their eyes.

Bonnie's mother set the laundry basket down and cautiously crept to the hallway. She looked left and right. "H-hello?"

Hearing nothing, she quickly gathered the laundry, and the sock, and put it away. She left Bonnie's room a few minutes later and shut the door behind her. The toys breathed ragged sighs of relief.

Woody eased out from under Bonnie's bed and stood in the room. The toys watched him as he appeared to be listening to see if Bonnie's mother was returning.

He couldn't have been more out of place. His clothing was dark and masculine in the light, girlish confines of Bonnie's room. He was rough, exuding strength and danger while everything around him was soft and delicate. He looked nothing like the toy he'd been. He was still lean, still wearing the clothes he'd had on, but now everything about him was changed somehow.

His clothes were worn and faded, as if he spent a lot of time in them. Dust coated his boots as if he'd just come from the trail, and his hat had seen many a merciless sun-baked day. Perhaps the biggest change was his face. It was no longer oversized compared to the rest of him. The eyes weren't large, guileless orbs of good cheer, but squinted. As if Woody had spent a lot of time riding outdoors. His skin was tanned a bit, also lending to the outdoor theory. The high energy and readiness for fun Woody was known for was gone, replaced by the watchful care one associated with a lifelong cowboy.

Woody heard nothing and walked toward the door slowly, his spurs making small jingling sounds on the carpet. He opened the door, paused as he checked the hall, and slipped out of Bonnie's room. The toys looked at each other in apprehension and closed the lid to the toy box.

There was the sound of the T.V. on down in the living room, but no other sound. Woody tried to think where Buzz could have gone as he eased down the hallway towards the stairs. A faint noise behind him had Woody turning quickly to find Buzz exiting the upstairs bathroom.

Down the stairs they went, Woody in the lead. He had a hand behind him to caution Buzz to stealth, and Buzz had a hand on his shoulder. They took the treads one at a time. The back of the couch was visible as they passed the living room. Bonnie's mother was sitting on it, folding laundry as she watched some old movie. Woody and Buzz hastily made their way to the kitchen, and from there outside to the backyard, holding their breath the entire time. Woody even went on tip toe to avoid his spurs hitting the floor. Once the door was shut behind them, they ran for the tool shed.

"Whew," Buzz gusted once they were safe. The tool shed doubled as a garage, though the car was in the driveway tonight. He leaned against the door as Woody locked it. "Made it."

Woody finished shooting the deadbolt home and turned to face Buzz. He held off what he was going to say as he really took in the changes in him for the first time.

Buzz was short, probably five seven or eight, but heavily built. He was muscular even through the space suit, with a strong face and aggressive eyes that shied from nothing. There was a caged bear quality to his movements, as if he had to consciously restrain himself from moving too fast or too suddenly: Buzz vibrated with suppressed power. He was hyper while trying not to show it.

There was a naked incandescent bulb currently lit in the tool shed. No windows or any other way that someone could see in from outside. Gardening tools lined one wall neatly. Flowerpots, bags of soil, fertilizer and plant food sat along the base of another wall. A lawnmower and weed whacker sat in a corner. The rest of the concrete floor was bare. There was a long wooden table that had seeds and a watering can on it.

Buzz suddenly laughed, clapped a hand over his mouth, then stopped and frowned just as suddenly. "We're in trouble aren't we," he said behind his hand. He turned to look at Woody.

Woody struck him as being at ease; he was leaning back against the shed door, arms and legs crossed, staring placidly from beneath the brim of his hat. Buzz didn't know how he could be so still in the face of their new humanity. He himself felt jumpy. He reached to scratch an itch between his shoulder blades and found that his suit was in the way. He stripped off his gloves, intent on getting his suit off and finding out just what, if anything, he was wearing underneath.

Well, that's interesting, Woody thought. He'd always figured astronauts wore several layers of various materials under their suits, but all Buzz had on was a purple one-piece nylon skin suit that was attached to that hood on his head. The suit was zipped up the front. Buzz peeled the hood off his head with a cry of surprise at how tight it was. An incredibly thick pelt of dark blonde hair the color of ancient gold sprang free. A shock of it fell over Buzz's brow, obscuring one eye as he unzipped the suit and shucked it down his hips. Woody only had eyes for the hair. He unfolded his body from the door and walked slowly over to Buzz.

"You have hair," he said wonderingly. He reached a hand toward the springy stuff.

"So do you," Buzz said sarcastically. He glanced at Woody's short hair, surprised to see a few gray strands near the temples.

The act of touching Buzz's hair had them both going still. It hit them again, the fact that they were real. They looked at each other, really staring into each other's eyes, as stimuli previously foreign to their existence flooded their new senses.

They could smell. The air inside the shed was rich with the scent of soil and fertilizer. A faint whiff of gasoline from the car that was usually parked there could also be detected. The smell coming from each man was heady with sweat and other male aromas.

They could feel. Tiny hairs on their skin stood up at the coolness of the night air and the heat coming from each other. They had organs now. Their hearts picked up pace, beating with alien strength in their bodies. Blood rushed through veins, and their lungs expanded, taking in oxygen as their stares seemed to make that ability difficult.

Woody still had a hand in Buzz's hair. The feel of it was very different from the horsehair and yarn he was accustomed to feeling on dolls. Buzz's hair was softer, luxuriant, almost alive in its texture. A hand to his own head revealed his hair to be rather coarse in comparison and slightly prickly.

A thought intruded on his physical awareness: The toy he was used to seeing and doing everything with was different. Buzz was loud and impulsive and dense about many things. Woody loved him because he was loyal, a good friend. He'd never abandon Buzz and Buzz would never abandon him. They were in it till the end.

But just as his body and clothes were now bigger and real, so was his innocent love of a fellow toy. The emotion he was used to feeling for Buzz was gone, replaced with something that tore at his insides and made his body heat up considerably. There were urges, an unspeakable need mixed in his love. His hand tightened in Buzz's hair and Woody abruptly realized that his long-time friend was standing there with his nylon suit down around his ankles and nothing on beneath.

Chapter Text

Woody had been around for a long time. He knew he was having a completely human, totally adult reaction to Buzz. However, he was rational enough, controlled enough, to back away from his friend. He tipped his hat back on his head, studying Buzz while silently feeling desire climb through his body. He stood hip shot, hands shoved down his back pockets.

Buzz thought the nonchalance of Woody's pose was the quintessence of a classical cowboy. All he lacked was a blade of grass between his teeth and the sun to squint his eyes against. He could have been standing against a rodeo fence instead of in a tool shed in American suburbia.

The way Woody stared at him was disconcerting. "Woody, have you noticed how different you are since we turned human?"

Woody was different. He spoke now with the twang of someone raised out west, his voice slow, deep and smooth. "What I've noticed is you getting naked right quick. What are you doing?"

Buzz waved an impatient hand, stooping to drag his nylon suit over his hips again. He held it bunched around his waist in one fist. "No, seriously. It's like you aren't just human, you've also been turned into a real cowboy. Look at you," Buzz said, gesturing with his free hand. "You talk differently, move differently." Buzz went on to tap the side of his own head. "And I have a ton of knowledge up here pertaining to NASA that wasn't there an hour ago. I mean honestly, do you think that gun on your hip isn't real? "

The one-time sheriff dropped his hand to the weapon slung low on his hip in a move that felt practiced and natural. "And your point is?" Woody drawled.

Buzz shrugged one muscular shoulder, a little concerned with how Woody was staring at his bare chest. "I don't know. I don't think I have a point, other than…"

Now Woody raised his eyes at last. "Other than what?"

Buzz looked around the tool shed. Everything looked so much different when you weren't 10-inches tall. Being human was beyond his ability to describe. If he were to try, though, he'd have to say that the thing that struck him the most was that he now had the power to influence the world around him, instead of always being at the mercy of the world. He could open doors, break things, affect change in himself and others. He was a person now, not some object that needed to wait for someone to touch it and play with it. His life was no longer defined by whether or not a child was in a playful mood. The entire world lay at his feet, waiting for discovery. "I don't want to be a toy ever again," he whispered in answer to Woody's question. "I don't think I could bear going back, not after feeling what it's like to be human. God, Woody, do you realize we can do things now?"

Woody took so long to answer that Buzz was forced to give up staring around the tool shed to regard his friend. He found Woody staring at him with his dark eyes. "Yes," Woody said leisurely. He began walking towards Buzz just as slowly, as if suspecting the astronaut would run away. "I do realize it. Starting with this."

He rested his hand on Buzz's warm chest, feeling the way the pectoral muscle filled his palm, crowned with a stiffening nipple. Buzz searched Woody's eyes, reading the serious expression. There was a question in the dark orbs, one that Buzz answered with a slight, stunned nod of his head, giving permission. Woody still hesitated, raising his brows to ask if Buzz was sure. Buzz gave a more emphatic nod, stepping into Woody in turn and raising a hand to his side.

As far as human experiences were concerned, Buzz thought this was as good a place to start as any. He was curious about it for one, and for another the friendly feeling he harbored for Woody seemed to have undergone as radical a change as the rest of him. He waited expectantly for what would happen next, feeling the novel sensation of sweat bead his brow.

Woody saw the nod, which drew his eyes to the sweat forming on Buzz's high forehead. He brushed the dark gold strands beginning to stick to the moisture aside and placed his lips on the feverish skin. He tasted. The sweat was salty. The touch of Woody's lips on him made Buzz murmur. Woody let his mouth travel across Buzz's cheekbones, the bridge of his nose, and finally down to his lips. His eyelids felt heavy as he contemplated Buzz's shapely lips. It was exciting to feel the heat of the shorter man's body baking through his plaid shirt, to feel Buzz's warm hand resting on his rib cage. This close, Buzz's eyes were the deep blue of a tropical ocean, with the faintest suggestion of green. He kept his eyes on Buzz's as he unhurriedly closed the distance between their faces.

Looking into each other's eyes as they shared their first kiss made the experience that much more potent. The feel of man flesh, tongue, lips, teeth…all of it was taken in while they stared at each other's faces. Their mouths found the way to go about accomplishing the most pleasure and Buzz groaned quietly as Woody's hand grasped the back of his head, tilting it.

Woody got his other arm around Buzz and succeeded in almost bending the man backward as his new urges drove him to assert his dominance over his friend. Buzz moaned again, more urgently this time, but the kiss didn't stop. It only went on, becoming harder and deeper as each man gave in completely to the flood of longing that was washing away their normal thoughts.

Panting. Heavy breathing. Faint sucking sounds from hungry lips. Small moans as nips were given. The taste was intoxicating, their first taste of anything from the human world. It somehow felt right that their first experience with taste was each other and not food or drink. It mesmerized each man, the way a tongue could move, how it felt. Their bodies were fresh, healthy, strong; love and desire burst through them in an explosion that would not, could not, be checked.

Buzz tried to take a step backward, to keep Woody from literally bending him in half, but his feet got tangled in the suit that was back down around his ankles. They both began falling. Woody wrapped both arms around Buzz's back and managed to save them from an intimate encounter with the concrete floor by lifting him and walking with him to the wooden table. He dropped him there, kissing him voraciously the entire time.

Buzz was frankly surprised at the sinewy strength Woody displayed. He would never have guessed it of that lanky body. He clung to Woody, surveying with his hands, learning the feel of him, as well as the taste. The leather hat was knocked off as his hands skimmed Woody's head.

The feel of Buzz's fingers raking across his close-cropped hair had a shudder working through Woody. He stilled, letting the thick hands knead and massage, stroke and rub. He felt his shirt being unbuttoned and this startled him. His clothes had never been removed, ever. Woody found that he was as curious as Buzz was earlier to discover his own body.

Both men stopped and stared at the thatch of dark curls coating Woody's chest. The hair tapered to a line down his abdomen before erupting again in a bush of wiry profusion just above the button on his faded Levi's. Buzz unbuckled the gun belt first, letting it hit the floor with a hard clatter. He then brought his hands back to Woody's waist and undid the single button on his Levi's.

Woody took over then, pushing his jeans and underwear down. He hopped, taking off each of his boots, but was soon as naked as Buzz was. This was given due attention.

It was noted that Woody's hair covered his groin, where a dark forest of it surrounded his cock. It continued down his legs in less amounts before ending abruptly at his white ankles. Buzz, on the other hand, had no growth on his body besides a few stray curls beneath his navel. These were so fair as to be almost invisible against his skin.

Woody took his cock in his hand, intensely curious. It felt heavy in his palm. It was more than half erect, hanging several inches past his sac. It was considerably longer than he would have supposed such a thing to be, with veins twisting here and there along its length. Even as he looked at it, his cock grew harder, gaining another inch. It pulsed and throbbed with portentous anticipation; it waited, Woody knew. To be used. Woody suddenly couldn't breathe as he raised his eyes to see what Buzz was doing. He wanted Buzz, wanted to use his cock in him with wild abandon.

Buzz took his own cock in hand after seeing Woody handle his. It was a lot shorter than the sheriff's, much as he himself was shorter than Woody. He tilted the head toward himself, feeling his organ swell in his hand as he stared at the pearl of moisture oozing from the tiny lips of his slit. He gathered this ooze on a fingertip and tasted it. Then he squeezed. That had his knees going weak. "Shit, that's good." He instinctively began rubbing up and down, squeezing, feeling his body shiver through currents of pleasure rippling through him. "Whoo! Try it, Woody."

Woody distractedly rubbed his penis, but his eyes were glued to Buzz. He felt the stimulation from his hand as a distant thing. The more immediate pleasure came from watching Buzz hunt for additional places on his body that would give him pleasure.

Buzz was a sexy creature, Woody decided. His hair was sexy, his body, the controlled power of him. Buzz ran his hands up through his own hair, sifting through it. This made his torso arch, made his chest thrust toward Woody. Woody stood still, watching, feeling his cock beat in his hand. He let the pleasure, the knowledge of how this night would progress, build up in him as he continued to watch Buzz. He made no move toward the shorter man.

He liked the feel of his own hands, Buzz thought to himself. He liked how his body felt, how the sight of Woody felt, how his cock felt and how looking at Woody's cock felt. He knew what would be done with both appendages, but it was still an abstract concept, not as real as his own hands were at this moment. He ran them down his stomach, found his cock and gave a few strokes again before cupping his balls. He stretched them, bracing his legs as his pleasure crested for a few seconds. He kept that up, milking his balls, watching as his cock bobbed with the action. They both watched. Buzz panted in open-mouthed concentration, staring downward.

When he abruptly left off manhandling his balls to rub his palms down his legs, Woody let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He'd been captivated by the look of lust on Buzz's face as he explored himself. He'd wondered, idly, if there was some connection between Buzz being a space explorer and his inquisitiveness about his own body. Then he'd wondered if Buzz's sensuality would make a difference when he finally fucked him. He paused on that thought, deliberating it.

He was going to fuck Buzz Lightyear, and fuck him hard. He was going to put it to him with everything he had.

But then Buzz was feeling his smoothly muscled legs, inspecting his wide feet. His hands ran around his hips to his ass, and Woody watched as Buzz spread his cheeks, probing with a finger. Buzz sighed out an awed, wondering curse at how good it felt. "Hoo…god," Buzz muttered. He dug deeper with his finger, brought his hand to his face to suck the same finger then shoved it back in his ass. Again Woody's breath left him, and again he failed to notice.

Buzz was turned so that he had a hand leaning on the table. His back was to Woody. Buzz lifted a knee now to rest it on the rough planks of the table, giving him better access to his ass. Woody saw him work two fingers into himself, saw the way Buzz dropped his head and stiffened the arm supporting him, as if the pleasure was too much to be borne. Woody heard the choppy breathing coming from Buzz, saw the way that tiny hole swallowed the two digits, and his control snapped.

Well, no that was inaccurate. He was in control insofar as he knew what he was doing, but the feelings in him, his body…he just didn't want to stand there watching Buzz anymore. He wanted to be on him, to be all over him, smelling and touching and tasting and reveling in the man. That was what had him stepping to Buzz with a quick indrawn hiss of need.

Buzz was focused on his body, enthralled with a totality that left room for little else; Woody's (shockingly) strong hands landing on his back were a surprise, but not enough of one to drag him from his focus. He only grunted in acknowledgment of Woody's presence, intent on the hole in his ass that was currently sending minor shockwaves along his nerve endings. Woody, it turned out, didn't particularly need acknowledgement.

It was a mark of how fogged their minds were that Buzz's yell did not remind them that someone could discover them. Woody shoved Buzz harder over the table, exposing his ass still more. When Buzz tried to bring his knee down to steady himself, Woody blocked the move, holding Buzz's leg pressed up on the table. Holding him ready for-

"OH GOD, WOODY!" Buzz growled desperately.

Woody simply bared his teeth and held on to his consciousness. He'd rammed into Buzz, bareback and dry, just as hard as he could. He sank in to his balls, nearly scraping the skin from his dick, and if such a feeling as he was trying to survive could be defined by such a small word as 'pleasure,' he'd shoot Bullseye and eat him for breakfast. Lord, but he was dying. He just held steady in Buzz for a few moments, coming to terms with the feel of the penetration. He needed a moment to collect his scattered wits.

Finally, slowly, cautiously, he relaxed his tense muscles. He was able to open his eyes and discover Buzz just as frozen, just as tense and breathless. They didn't move yet, not yet, but they sort of shifted together so that they relaxed as one, breathed as one. Just little movements, reaffirming that they hadn't been blasted to oblivion by the supernova of pleasure that had taken place at Woody's thrust.

Buzz hung his head and uttered a ragged moan. A second later, Woody felt Buzz's tight ass become tighter as Buzz squeezed those muscles. "Buzz, for god's sake."

"Huh-huh-holy shi-shit," Buzz gasped. He could barely speak, his face screwed into an expression of suffering. And he was suffering, under the most delicious-

Woody suddenly drew back and rammed back home, and Buzz forgot who he was.

The sheriff, cowboy, had recovered sufficiently. He now straightened, leaned his palms on Buzz'z broad, quivering back, and proceeded to have his way with him.

Buzz moaned in wretched lust, in dire pleasure, at feeling the tearing, ripping, burning slide of Woody's cock. It was outrageous, how much a body could feel! A human body. He dropped his torso to the table, submitting, for the moment, to the forceful drive of Woody's hips. Maybe it was twisted of him, Buzz thought, but he liked the pain. God help him, he liked the way it hurt. He liked everything his body was able to feel, and he especially loved Woody's cock filling him quick and hard the way it was. "Woody…" he rasped. "You…God…"

Woody humped hungrily; the cushiony feel of Buzz'z ass cheeks were heavenly accompaniment to the tight passage of his anus. It was almost better than the actual fucking. He made sure to slap his pelvis against that bouncy cushion nice and hard, riding Buzz as roughly as he could. And Buzz took it, he took it all, even the truly vicious thrusts that went too deep for words.

It went on for some unknowable length of time, those rough thrusts, the moaning and curses, and the jagged-edged breathing. Woody's climax built, crested, and carried him over before he really knew what was happening. He made the first loud sound since becoming human, throwing his head back to shout in a full-throated roar as everything inside him went into Buzz.

Buzz felt the heat rushing into him and thought 'Oh Woody, I love you!' It was the only way to express the sudden closeness he felt to his friend. Yes, he loved him, but it wasn't about that. It was uniting in more ways than physically. He couldn't explain it but the phrase popped into his mind, though he didn't voice it.

They collapsed forward on the table in a heap of sweaty limbs. Woody experienced a tiny nap. He woke when Buzz tried to move, began thrusting again, and the tone of this second round was immediately noticeable: less physical, more emotional.

The thrusts glided exquisitely due to Woody's first climax. They both shuddered and sighed at the enhanced fluidity of the act. It was even better, and Buzz would not have believed that possible.

Woody kept his movements slow and purposeful this time, pressing as deep as he could go before pulling almost all the way out. His arm came around Buzz's upper body and lifted the stocky man so that his back was pressed to Woody's chest. They were slick with perspiration. Buzz reached one hand behind him to bury in Woody's hair, while using the other to finally grab his cock. He'd done little more than close his hand around it before he was coming with a whimper, his hips jerking forward briskly several times.

Coming and getting fucked at the same time kept him hard. Buzz glanced down to see what had come out of him. He was in time to catch a last milky spurt being coughed up by his dick, joining the small puddle dripping off the side of the table. His legs trembled in the aftermath. He kept stroking, his hand tightening in Woody's hair as he felt another load building in his balls, gathering for release. The large vein located on the underside of his cock throbbed in his palm. Just as his lungs seized up for the second wave, Woody sped up his movements and pounded furiously into Buzz's aching ass for all of five or six thrusts. Buzz felt like the jarring movements slammed his own climax out of him since he came a moment later, gasping and trying to keep his legs supporting him.

Woody fell away, staggered away, as he slipped out of Buzz. His limp cock flopped against his thigh, leaving a wet smear of cum. He turned, meaning to lean against the wall as he caught his breath. He ended up putting his hand on the handle of the lawn mover, which sent it skidding. It snagged one of the large bags of soil on the floor, tearing it and spilling rich dark earth across a wide swatch of the concrete. Woody muttered a curse, grabbing his forehead with thumb and the first fingers on one hand. He stretched in this position, his other hand on the small of his back.

Buzz watched all this from where he was bent over the table. Woody hadn't said anything about what they'd just done, but then the astronaut was coming to believe that Human Woody was a man of exceptionally few words. He saw how Woody squatted on his haunches now, hands resting on his knees. Even viewing him from behind, Buzz could see his dick hanging, also between his legs. The thing nearly brushed the floor, swaying like a pendulum back and forth with its solid weight.

Well. He could damn well attest to the veracity of that cock. He gingerly contracted his sphincter, braced for pain. There was some and even now it felt too good. The whole thing had been too good to be believed.

Woody took a final deep breath, held it, and stood up. He turned and found Buzz as he'd left him. They regarded each other for several silent moments, then Buzz grinned. "That was something," the shorter man commented.


"Something I'd like to try again in the future."


"You okay?"

"Fine." Woody looked around for his pants.

"Something wrong?" Buzz straightened, turned, and stretched his back with a faint popping sound. He rolled his neck on his shoulders, switching directions to work out the kinks.

Woody considered pointing out a key fact the other man seemed to have forgotten, but decided against it. Now that the act was over and he had his senses again, he wished he'd never touched Buzz. Ah, but not to touch him, even knowing there'd never be a 'future' would have killed him. In fact, he dropped his pants, went to Buzz, and grabbed his wide shoulders. He kissed him desperately, anxiously, greedily. This, from the otherwise stoic cowboy, had Buzz meeting him halfway, matching his urgent kiss. "Buzz," Woody moaned miserably. "Buzz, Buzz."

"Woody?" Buzz broke the kiss long enough to whisper. "What is it?"

But Woody dragged him back, pulled his face in by the hair and resumed the fiery kiss.

They sank to the floor, right there in the spilled dirt. The dark granules stuck to their fair bodies as they rolled in a lazy, lusty dance of climbing desire and heart rates. Buzz was on top, then Woody, then Buzz, then Woody again. He kissed any part of Buzz he could reach, touched him, touched and touched until Buzz rolled him to his back and provided the same adoration.

Buzz found his face near Woody's stiff erection. He studied it close up, handling it, moving it back and forth as he scrutinized it. There was some dirt on it from the spilled soil, some crusty white stuff he realized was dried cum. Without warning, he stuck out his tongue and licked with the flat of it, from Woody's balls to the weeping slit.

Woody bucked, Buzz was just getting ready for another lick, and quite unintentionally the cock went down Buzz's throat.

They paused, looking at each other…then it was all right. Buzz swallowed reflexively, doing away with the saliva pooling in his full mouth. Woody snatched a handful of Buzz's hair and held on, his lips skinned in a snarl, jaw tight. "Damn, Buzz…"

It was awkward for a few moments while Buzz found a rhythm that worked. He had to check his gag reflex often, but this excited him. He tasted soil, cum and Woody's faintly salty skin. He sucked hard, softly, quickly, slowly. Woody's nerves were shot to hell by the time he rammed his hips upward into Buzz's face repeatedly, climaxing powerfully.

They lay side by side for awhile, the dirt crushed beneath them and smudged on their skin. Buzz swiped at a stray trickle of cum leaking from his nose with the back of a hand, leaving another smudge of dirt on his face.

Silence. They could hear crickets. A moth beat frantically at the single bulb in the shed, casting wild shadows in the room. Then Buzz spoke.

"This human thing is the shit. I don't know about you, but the first thing I'm doing next is getting a burger. You feel hungry?"

Woody, keeping his eyes on the moth, contemplated what could possibly drive a creature to seek so fiercely to end its life in flames. Life was so precious, such a gift…for those who had it. He brought his mind to Buzz's words. "Some."

"Only some? My stomach is killing me, I think I'm starving. Anyways, after the burger, with milkshake of course, I'm hitting the mall. I need clothes, I want to look around and explore the town. I can't do that in my space suit. And then-"

Woody listened, his heart breaking at the grand yet simple plans Buzz had. He didn't interrupt, only laced his hand with his friend's between their hips.

Buzz talked a lot. Sometimes he rolled to Woody and Woody would draw him in, kiss him, touch him. They fucked, made love, touched and kissed there in the dirt, beneath the suicidal moth. Sometimes Buzz talked even as he was dozing off, only to wake and talk some more, animated about his plans once they were finished in the shed. Woody, curious, had asked a single question, his only interruption during the hours they spent naked.

"Why don't you go now, Buzz? See the world and eat your burger?"

Buzz had turned a sleepy grin on him. "Well, I'm sort of in here with you, Sheriff. When you're ready to get up we'll go together. No big deal, we have the rest of our lives to see the world." Buzz snorted. "What, you think I'd go without you?"

And then he'd gone on again about the places he wanted to see.

Later, much later, Woody looked down sadly into the dilated pupils of Buzz's panting face, pumping his hips strongly, giving Buzz the only taste of reality he'd ever know, giving and giving and giving until Buzz, who was fisting his rod furiously, inhaled deeply, held it, and let it out with a muted bellow of Woody's name. His seed hit Woody's stomach in warm splashes. Woody was there with him, coming with him, holding that bluish gaze with his own.

After, Buzz laughed weakly, rolling to his side as Woody backed out of him. They lay that way, Woody curled around him as Buzz closed his eyes blissfully.

He wasn't sure what woke him, but Woody wasn't holding him anymore. That was the first thing he noticed. The next thing he noticed was that he was fully clothed. Buzz sat up quickly, already hot and sweating in his space suit. "Woody?" He looked around, found his friend watching him despondently, standing by the shed door. "Woody, what the hell? How-"

The door. Buzz's eyes dropped to the crack under the door and saw faint light. He stilled himself, listening: he heard a rooster crow, signaling morning. Put together with the look on Woody's face, the astronaut knew a sharp thread of fear. "No," Buzz whispered. He got up, throwing himself at the door.

Woody fought him, tears slipping down his cheeks as Buzz screamed, punched, pleaded, threatened. Buzz was very strong, especially now, using the desperate strength of the terrified, but Woody was also strong. He kept Buzz from leaving the shed until Buzz went weak with defeat, crying hysterical, childish sobs of bitter fury. Woody held him, feeling the sobs tear his soul, knowing exactly how Buzz felt.

Buzz Lightyear, once best-selling toy to millions, had fallen into the trap that most humans live in; He believed, simply by the fact of his breathing, that he had absolute power over his destiny. He was in control. He would live forever. So what if Tink had said the magic would wear off come morning? That was back when he'd been a toy, insignificant and helpless. Now he was human and powerful.

"No," Buzz sobbed brokenly. "Woody, no, I can't."

But it was inevitable, as seen when they'd each woken up to find themselves clothed. Woody only held him. He'd known all along, the whole time, that this was what it would come to. He'd been unable to share in Buzz's plans, to laugh with him, knowing that this was all they'd ever have. Was this how humans lived, knowing death would claim them all eventually, no matter what they did? Woody thought. How did they go on, knowing they would die, that it would end no matter how fiercely they fought?

They lived like Buzz had done for a few hours, the sheriff decided. They convinced themselves that nothing could touch them unless they willed it so. Well, Woody thought as Buzz continued to sob, life or death he would stick by his friend.

And when Bonnie's mother came out to the tool shed an hour later that was how she found her daughter's toys. Woody and Buzz were laying, one against the other, faces wearing their eternal, changeless grins, off to one side of the door.