fic: deep space
Deep Space
Skins. Tony/Maxxie/Anwar, 2,366 words, NC-17.
Notes: Set sometime during series 1. Written for the Skins Anonymous Kink Meme.
Prompt: Magic Mushrooms made them do it & have them get strung out on magic mushrooms then have them imagining Aliens make them have sex.
Tony’s the one to provide the ‘shrooms. He presents them with a flourish and a grin.
“Girl that gave ‘em to me said that these aren’t your average mushrooms,” Tony says. “These, my friends, are supposed to be magical.”
Maxxie smacks his lips, expression thoughtful. “They’ve got an unusual taste. Don’t know if it’s ‘magical’, though.”
Anwar grins at them and says, “This night is going to be magical, if you get what I’m saying.” He thrusts his hips at the air. “There was a pretty girl at the bar that was givin’ me the eye.”
“Pretty sure she just had a lazy eye, Anwar,” Tony says, hand dropping onto Anwar‘s shoulder. “Sorry to be the one to tell you.”
Anwar shrugs him off irritably. “Fuck off. Lazy eye or no, she was totally into me.”
“This club’s got good lighting, doesn’t it?” Maxxie asks. He tips his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Beautiful, really.”
“Yeah,” Tony says, after a moment. “Now that you mention it.”
Privately, Anwar thinks it’s quite gay to notice the lighting in a club, let alone call it beautiful. But that’s only, of course, until he also looks up and notices it.
“Whoa,” he breathes. “It’s like underwater rainbows, or something.” Tony and Maxxie murmur their agreement.
The light is blue, and light purple, and white, and maybe a little green, too. They’re cold colors, Anwar thinks. Totally winter colors, and it makes him shiver just looking at them. He rubs his arms and steps over to Maxxie, pressing closer until Maxxie gets the idea and wraps an absent-minded arm around Anwar’s shoulders. That warms him up a bit, at least. He bets he could get even warmer if only Tony would do the same.
Right as he’s contemplating just picking up Tony’s arm and placing it around him, he notices the strange, new people entering the club. People with green skin, and large bulbous heads. And weird silver jumpsuits. And big, black eyes. Three eyes, to be exact.
“Oh, shit,” Anwar whispers. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”
Maxxie’s hand squeezes his shoulder, face still titled toward the ceiling. “Something wrong, An?”
“Max,” Anwar says, “there are fucking aliens at the door.”
“Really,” Tony snorts.
“Fucking look for yourself,” Anwar says, whispering again so that the aliens don’t hear him. “Oh, fuck, they’re coming over here. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Oh shit,” Maxxie mutters, and Anwar says, “I know.”
“Wow,” Tony says. “Aliens in Bristol, of all places.”
Anwar grabs Tony’s arm tightly. “They’re still heading over here! Should we run? Maybe we should run!”
“Just wait a sec, man,” Maxxie says, hand rubbing between Anwar’s shoulder blades as if to calm him down. “Perhaps they’re nice aliens. Maybe they just want to hang out.”
Anwar’s eyes widen comically. “And maybe I don’t want to hang out with them. Ever think of that, Max?”
Anwar never really noticed how stupid his friends truly are, at least not until there were several aliens walking towards them across a crowded club and neither of them were running for their lives, as they should have been. And Anwar, being the excellent friend that he is, can’t just run away without them.
“Fuck, we’re going to get lasered to death,” he moans. And the aliens do have lasers, Anwar notices. Big, shiny lasers. He whimpers.
“Hello,” Maxxie says, quite cheerfully once the aliens are close enough. Tony smiles at them charmingly.
The alien at the forefront of the group lifts one of its arms, laser aimed at Anwar’s chest. He closes his eyes, and waits for death.
But - instead of death, Anwar only hears a strange buzzing sound, even over the thumping music. And he feels warmth at his chest, heat that seems to seep under his skin and spread outwards.
He cracks one eye open, and peeks down. There’s bright yellow light emanating from his torso. “Oh,” Anwar says. “I’m not dying. I’m glowing.”
Anwar rubs his hands down his chest, as if he were checking for wounds. The weird laser-light transfers from his chest to his fingers. He holds them up in front of his face, staring and flexing his hands.
He’s so busy being fascinated the fact that he’s currently fucking lighting up that he barely notices that the aliens have disappeared.
“Holy hell,” Tony mutters, brow furrowed. “It’s like you’re a Christmas tree.”
Anwar feels good, feels really good. Unlike the other light, this one‘s warm, totally summer-like. Maxxie reaches out slowly before cupping the side of Anwar’s neck, sliding his hand down Anwar’s chest, and then Maxxie’s glowing, too.
“This is. It’s really.” Maxxie seems to be at a loss for words. Finally, he breathes out, “Tony, you should really try this.”
Which is how Anwar ends up with two of his best mates’ hands on his chest, practically rubbing him down in the middle of a club. And he can’t really say that he minds all that much. It’s warm. It might be even better if they were touching his bare skin. He wonders if they’d think it weird if he took his shirt off.
“It’s cool, yeah?” Anwar says, trying for calm and mostly achieving it, except for the way his voice cracks a bit at the end.
“Really cool,” Tony agrees, because yeah, they’re all glowing and warm and Anwar wants to feel their hands on him more and more with every moment that passes.
It’s Tony that takes it a step further, that wraps a hand in the front of Anwar’s shirt and tugs him forward, kisses him square on the mouth. It’s really only to keep the light with them, to keep the warm feeling, that’s all, really. Anwar lets himself be kissed.
He jumps a little when he feels Maxxie’s hands slide up under his shirt, fingers stroking over his stomach, and oh, he was totally right about bare skin against skin being even better, more intense. Maxxie brushes his lips against the back of Anwar’s neck, rubs his cheek against him. Tony moves his mouth down Anwar’s throat, and he tilts his head back, gasping as Maxxie’s hand dips beneath the waistband of his trousers. He realises that his cock his hard.
And then he realises that the lasers from earlier were totally sex lasers. They’ll all three of them probably die if they don’t orgasm, or whatever.
Well, Anwar thinks, they’ll all just have to take this one for the team and be little bit… homosexual with each other.
“It’s life or death, mates,” Anwar says bravely. “We have no choice.”
He thinks he feels Maxxie huff a laugh against the back of his neck. “If you say so, mate.”
Tony nips at Anwar’s collarbone. “Whatever.”
It doesn’t count as gay if he’s only doing it to avoid certain (laser) death, right? Right. So Anwar grips Tony’s shoulder, and brings their mouths together again. He covers Maxxie’s hand low on his stomach with his other, pushes it down to cover his cock. Maxxie squeezes him through the material of his trousers, and it takes a lot for Anwar to bite back a moan.
Tony breaks the kiss to murmur, “Hey, maybe we should -” and breaking off to nod in the direction of an unoccupied couch against the wall not too far from where their standing.
It’s a really good idea, and they all stumble towards it, pushing through the sea of people. The people are cold wherever they brush against him, and Anwar allows himself to pity them for a moment. They might not ever feel as warm as he does right now.
They all drop onto the couch as the music changes and the crowd surges, excited anew. Maxxie’s hand has to leave his crotch as there’s a brief moment of confusion as the three of them try to figure out how to situate themselves on the couch. Tony and Anwar end up side by side, pressed close with Tony’s arm across Anwar’s shoulders, and Maxxie straddling Anwar’s lap.
“Hey,” Maxxie says, like he’s surprised to find himself on Anwar’s lap, and kisses him.
“Hey to you, too,” Anwar mumbles, but he’s pretty sure the words are lost in their kiss. Maxxie kisses with his whole body, hands running through Anwar’s hair, rubbing the nape of his neck, nearly squirming in Anwar’s lap. It’s actually really hot, which is really weird to think, because this is Maxxie, but it is.
Then Maxxie’s hands are between their bodies, making fast work of the buttons on Anwar’s trousers and slipping inside to - holy shit - stroke Anwar’s cock from base to tip, squeezing as if he knew exactly how Anwar liked to jerk himself off when he was alone.
Sadly, Anwar finds that he can’t really focus on kissing Maxxie when he’s doing that with his hands, so he drops his head to mouth wetly at the pale skin of Maxxie’s throat. He feels Tony shift against his side and when he turns his head and looks up, it’s to the sight of Maxxie and Tony kissing.
Anwar’s always thought it strange to see two people kissing from so close up, especially strange to see it when those two people are Tony and Maxxie. Their kisses look deep and long, and Anwar can actually see their tongues sliding together, which is just dirty. The sight goes straight to his cock, makes him buck up into Maxxie’s touch.
They keep kissing, and kissing, and kissing. If it wasn’t for Maxxie’s hand working his cock, he’d feel left out. As it is, he decides to get some of their attention back. He takes a deep breath (really, totally not gay if it‘s just to avoid dying), then reaches over to grab Tony’s dick.
Anwar pushes the heel of his hand into Tony’s cock, biting his lip when Tony moans against Maxxie’s mouth and Maxxie, in turn, squeezes Anwar’s dick harder. He pushes up against Maxxie again, unbuttons Tony’s trousers and slips his hand inside. Tony’s cock is hot and hard in his hand, and it’s weird, so weird, but Anwar just tries to think of it like wanking. Wanking from an unusual angle, though. And with an unfamiliar cock.
Tony and Maxxie stop kissing then, their foreheads pressed together, each breathing harshly. Anwar can’t help but stare at how wet their mouths look.
Tony smirks a little. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Anwar.”
Anwar smirks back at him. “I don’t have it in me. Just in my hand.”
Tony rolls his eyes at that, but Maxxie laughs. Then he groans, moving one hand from touching Anwar to rub at his dick through his jeans. Maxxie’s so hard that Anwar can see the outline of his cock and when Maxxie grinds the heel of his palm into his own cock, head thrown back for a moment, Anwar’s stomach kind of drops.
“Shit, Max,” he says, because he’s that much closer, already, and everything feels that much hotter. He kisses Maxxie.
“Here,” Tony mumbles, reaching between them. He undoes Maxxie’s jeans, pulls his cock out, and hello, there goes Maxxie’s cock less than an inch from Anwar’s.
And then Tony’s leaning down, never mind the awkward angle, and sucking Maxxie’s cock into his mouth, knocking away Maxxie’s hand to fist the base of it.
Which, really, is pretty unfair because Anwar’s dick is also right there and yet it’s Maxxie’s that gets a hot, wet mouth.
Maybe it doesn’t matter, anyway, because Anwar’s coming not too long after that, moaning and spilling over Maxxie’s hand, trying not to jerk his hips up too much and accidentally give Tony a black eye with his cock.
Once he sort of recovers and opens his eyes again, Tony’s leaning up, mouth and chin wet with his own spit, and a streak of come across his cheek from Anwar. And he just wipes it away, like it’s nothing, a sight which makes Anwar’s cock jerk weakly.
Maxxie’s looking at Tony, too, a funny smile on his lips. “Not too bad this time,” he says.
“Thanks,” Tony says, and he smiles back. “I practiced on fruit.” He leans back down, taking Maxxie back into his mouth, Anwar assumes, because he can’t even really see it. All he can see is the back of Tony’s head bobbing up and down, and when he looks up he can see Maxxie’s mouth open on a gasp, face flushed. Anwar brushes the back of his hand down Maxxie’s cheek, rubs a thumb over his bottom lip, just because he can.
When Maxxie comes, he arches his back, teeth digging into his own lower lip. It’s not too long before Maxxie’s leaning over as best he can to take Tony into his mouth, seeing as how Anwar forgot to keep working his cock once he‘d had his own orgasm. Anwar marvels at his flexibility, and also, apparently, his deep-throating skills. Tony doesn’t last very long with Maxxie’s mouth on him at all.
Afterwards, when they’re all sated and tucking themselves back into their trousers, it’s not exactly awkward, but it’s definitely weird. Anwar’s contemplating whether he can get away with feigning selective amnesia when Maxxie drives away the strange feelings in the air by wiping his sticky hand on Anwar’s shirt.
“What the fuck?” Anwar snaps. “Not cool.”
Maxxie only grins at him, rolling off of his lap and the couch before Anwar can retaliate. “It’s technically your mess. So deal.”
“We’re not glowing anymore,” Tony says. “Cool.”
Anwar sighs, and grimaces down at his newly stained shirt. “Whatever. At least we didn‘t die a laser-y death.”
Tony stands up, pulling Anwar with him. “Right. And I’m sure Michelle’ll understand this time. I mean, she couldn’t possibly get mad if the sex was to save all of our lives.”
“She couldn‘t,” Maxxie agrees. “Ready to leave? This place isn’t half as exciting when there aren’t aliens standing at the bar.”
They all head towards the exit. Once they’re outside, Anwar says, “So, this night never ever happened, right?”
Maxxie shrugs, and says, “Of course,” at the same time Tony says, “Don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
Anwar nods. “Good.”
Skins. Tony/Maxxie/Anwar, 2,366 words, NC-17.
Notes: Set sometime during series 1. Written for the Skins Anonymous Kink Meme.
Prompt: Magic Mushrooms made them do it & have them get strung out on magic mushrooms then have them imagining Aliens make them have sex.
Tony’s the one to provide the ‘shrooms. He presents them with a flourish and a grin.
“Girl that gave ‘em to me said that these aren’t your average mushrooms,” Tony says. “These, my friends, are supposed to be magical.”
Maxxie smacks his lips, expression thoughtful. “They’ve got an unusual taste. Don’t know if it’s ‘magical’, though.”
Anwar grins at them and says, “This night is going to be magical, if you get what I’m saying.” He thrusts his hips at the air. “There was a pretty girl at the bar that was givin’ me the eye.”
“Pretty sure she just had a lazy eye, Anwar,” Tony says, hand dropping onto Anwar‘s shoulder. “Sorry to be the one to tell you.”
Anwar shrugs him off irritably. “Fuck off. Lazy eye or no, she was totally into me.”
“This club’s got good lighting, doesn’t it?” Maxxie asks. He tips his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Beautiful, really.”
“Yeah,” Tony says, after a moment. “Now that you mention it.”
Privately, Anwar thinks it’s quite gay to notice the lighting in a club, let alone call it beautiful. But that’s only, of course, until he also looks up and notices it.
“Whoa,” he breathes. “It’s like underwater rainbows, or something.” Tony and Maxxie murmur their agreement.
The light is blue, and light purple, and white, and maybe a little green, too. They’re cold colors, Anwar thinks. Totally winter colors, and it makes him shiver just looking at them. He rubs his arms and steps over to Maxxie, pressing closer until Maxxie gets the idea and wraps an absent-minded arm around Anwar’s shoulders. That warms him up a bit, at least. He bets he could get even warmer if only Tony would do the same.
Right as he’s contemplating just picking up Tony’s arm and placing it around him, he notices the strange, new people entering the club. People with green skin, and large bulbous heads. And weird silver jumpsuits. And big, black eyes. Three eyes, to be exact.
“Oh, shit,” Anwar whispers. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”
Maxxie’s hand squeezes his shoulder, face still titled toward the ceiling. “Something wrong, An?”
“Max,” Anwar says, “there are fucking aliens at the door.”
“Really,” Tony snorts.
“Fucking look for yourself,” Anwar says, whispering again so that the aliens don’t hear him. “Oh, fuck, they’re coming over here. Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Oh shit,” Maxxie mutters, and Anwar says, “I know.”
“Wow,” Tony says. “Aliens in Bristol, of all places.”
Anwar grabs Tony’s arm tightly. “They’re still heading over here! Should we run? Maybe we should run!”
“Just wait a sec, man,” Maxxie says, hand rubbing between Anwar’s shoulder blades as if to calm him down. “Perhaps they’re nice aliens. Maybe they just want to hang out.”
Anwar’s eyes widen comically. “And maybe I don’t want to hang out with them. Ever think of that, Max?”
Anwar never really noticed how stupid his friends truly are, at least not until there were several aliens walking towards them across a crowded club and neither of them were running for their lives, as they should have been. And Anwar, being the excellent friend that he is, can’t just run away without them.
“Fuck, we’re going to get lasered to death,” he moans. And the aliens do have lasers, Anwar notices. Big, shiny lasers. He whimpers.
“Hello,” Maxxie says, quite cheerfully once the aliens are close enough. Tony smiles at them charmingly.
The alien at the forefront of the group lifts one of its arms, laser aimed at Anwar’s chest. He closes his eyes, and waits for death.
But - instead of death, Anwar only hears a strange buzzing sound, even over the thumping music. And he feels warmth at his chest, heat that seems to seep under his skin and spread outwards.
He cracks one eye open, and peeks down. There’s bright yellow light emanating from his torso. “Oh,” Anwar says. “I’m not dying. I’m glowing.”
Anwar rubs his hands down his chest, as if he were checking for wounds. The weird laser-light transfers from his chest to his fingers. He holds them up in front of his face, staring and flexing his hands.
He’s so busy being fascinated the fact that he’s currently fucking lighting up that he barely notices that the aliens have disappeared.
“Holy hell,” Tony mutters, brow furrowed. “It’s like you’re a Christmas tree.”
Anwar feels good, feels really good. Unlike the other light, this one‘s warm, totally summer-like. Maxxie reaches out slowly before cupping the side of Anwar’s neck, sliding his hand down Anwar’s chest, and then Maxxie’s glowing, too.
“This is. It’s really.” Maxxie seems to be at a loss for words. Finally, he breathes out, “Tony, you should really try this.”
Which is how Anwar ends up with two of his best mates’ hands on his chest, practically rubbing him down in the middle of a club. And he can’t really say that he minds all that much. It’s warm. It might be even better if they were touching his bare skin. He wonders if they’d think it weird if he took his shirt off.
“It’s cool, yeah?” Anwar says, trying for calm and mostly achieving it, except for the way his voice cracks a bit at the end.
“Really cool,” Tony agrees, because yeah, they’re all glowing and warm and Anwar wants to feel their hands on him more and more with every moment that passes.
It’s Tony that takes it a step further, that wraps a hand in the front of Anwar’s shirt and tugs him forward, kisses him square on the mouth. It’s really only to keep the light with them, to keep the warm feeling, that’s all, really. Anwar lets himself be kissed.
He jumps a little when he feels Maxxie’s hands slide up under his shirt, fingers stroking over his stomach, and oh, he was totally right about bare skin against skin being even better, more intense. Maxxie brushes his lips against the back of Anwar’s neck, rubs his cheek against him. Tony moves his mouth down Anwar’s throat, and he tilts his head back, gasping as Maxxie’s hand dips beneath the waistband of his trousers. He realises that his cock his hard.
And then he realises that the lasers from earlier were totally sex lasers. They’ll all three of them probably die if they don’t orgasm, or whatever.
Well, Anwar thinks, they’ll all just have to take this one for the team and be little bit… homosexual with each other.
“It’s life or death, mates,” Anwar says bravely. “We have no choice.”
He thinks he feels Maxxie huff a laugh against the back of his neck. “If you say so, mate.”
Tony nips at Anwar’s collarbone. “Whatever.”
It doesn’t count as gay if he’s only doing it to avoid certain (laser) death, right? Right. So Anwar grips Tony’s shoulder, and brings their mouths together again. He covers Maxxie’s hand low on his stomach with his other, pushes it down to cover his cock. Maxxie squeezes him through the material of his trousers, and it takes a lot for Anwar to bite back a moan.
Tony breaks the kiss to murmur, “Hey, maybe we should -” and breaking off to nod in the direction of an unoccupied couch against the wall not too far from where their standing.
It’s a really good idea, and they all stumble towards it, pushing through the sea of people. The people are cold wherever they brush against him, and Anwar allows himself to pity them for a moment. They might not ever feel as warm as he does right now.
They all drop onto the couch as the music changes and the crowd surges, excited anew. Maxxie’s hand has to leave his crotch as there’s a brief moment of confusion as the three of them try to figure out how to situate themselves on the couch. Tony and Anwar end up side by side, pressed close with Tony’s arm across Anwar’s shoulders, and Maxxie straddling Anwar’s lap.
“Hey,” Maxxie says, like he’s surprised to find himself on Anwar’s lap, and kisses him.
“Hey to you, too,” Anwar mumbles, but he’s pretty sure the words are lost in their kiss. Maxxie kisses with his whole body, hands running through Anwar’s hair, rubbing the nape of his neck, nearly squirming in Anwar’s lap. It’s actually really hot, which is really weird to think, because this is Maxxie, but it is.
Then Maxxie’s hands are between their bodies, making fast work of the buttons on Anwar’s trousers and slipping inside to - holy shit - stroke Anwar’s cock from base to tip, squeezing as if he knew exactly how Anwar liked to jerk himself off when he was alone.
Sadly, Anwar finds that he can’t really focus on kissing Maxxie when he’s doing that with his hands, so he drops his head to mouth wetly at the pale skin of Maxxie’s throat. He feels Tony shift against his side and when he turns his head and looks up, it’s to the sight of Maxxie and Tony kissing.
Anwar’s always thought it strange to see two people kissing from so close up, especially strange to see it when those two people are Tony and Maxxie. Their kisses look deep and long, and Anwar can actually see their tongues sliding together, which is just dirty. The sight goes straight to his cock, makes him buck up into Maxxie’s touch.
They keep kissing, and kissing, and kissing. If it wasn’t for Maxxie’s hand working his cock, he’d feel left out. As it is, he decides to get some of their attention back. He takes a deep breath (really, totally not gay if it‘s just to avoid dying), then reaches over to grab Tony’s dick.
Anwar pushes the heel of his hand into Tony’s cock, biting his lip when Tony moans against Maxxie’s mouth and Maxxie, in turn, squeezes Anwar’s dick harder. He pushes up against Maxxie again, unbuttons Tony’s trousers and slips his hand inside. Tony’s cock is hot and hard in his hand, and it’s weird, so weird, but Anwar just tries to think of it like wanking. Wanking from an unusual angle, though. And with an unfamiliar cock.
Tony and Maxxie stop kissing then, their foreheads pressed together, each breathing harshly. Anwar can’t help but stare at how wet their mouths look.
Tony smirks a little. “Didn’t think you had it in you, Anwar.”
Anwar smirks back at him. “I don’t have it in me. Just in my hand.”
Tony rolls his eyes at that, but Maxxie laughs. Then he groans, moving one hand from touching Anwar to rub at his dick through his jeans. Maxxie’s so hard that Anwar can see the outline of his cock and when Maxxie grinds the heel of his palm into his own cock, head thrown back for a moment, Anwar’s stomach kind of drops.
“Shit, Max,” he says, because he’s that much closer, already, and everything feels that much hotter. He kisses Maxxie.
“Here,” Tony mumbles, reaching between them. He undoes Maxxie’s jeans, pulls his cock out, and hello, there goes Maxxie’s cock less than an inch from Anwar’s.
And then Tony’s leaning down, never mind the awkward angle, and sucking Maxxie’s cock into his mouth, knocking away Maxxie’s hand to fist the base of it.
Which, really, is pretty unfair because Anwar’s dick is also right there and yet it’s Maxxie’s that gets a hot, wet mouth.
Maybe it doesn’t matter, anyway, because Anwar’s coming not too long after that, moaning and spilling over Maxxie’s hand, trying not to jerk his hips up too much and accidentally give Tony a black eye with his cock.
Once he sort of recovers and opens his eyes again, Tony’s leaning up, mouth and chin wet with his own spit, and a streak of come across his cheek from Anwar. And he just wipes it away, like it’s nothing, a sight which makes Anwar’s cock jerk weakly.
Maxxie’s looking at Tony, too, a funny smile on his lips. “Not too bad this time,” he says.
“Thanks,” Tony says, and he smiles back. “I practiced on fruit.” He leans back down, taking Maxxie back into his mouth, Anwar assumes, because he can’t even really see it. All he can see is the back of Tony’s head bobbing up and down, and when he looks up he can see Maxxie’s mouth open on a gasp, face flushed. Anwar brushes the back of his hand down Maxxie’s cheek, rubs a thumb over his bottom lip, just because he can.
When Maxxie comes, he arches his back, teeth digging into his own lower lip. It’s not too long before Maxxie’s leaning over as best he can to take Tony into his mouth, seeing as how Anwar forgot to keep working his cock once he‘d had his own orgasm. Anwar marvels at his flexibility, and also, apparently, his deep-throating skills. Tony doesn’t last very long with Maxxie’s mouth on him at all.
Afterwards, when they’re all sated and tucking themselves back into their trousers, it’s not exactly awkward, but it’s definitely weird. Anwar’s contemplating whether he can get away with feigning selective amnesia when Maxxie drives away the strange feelings in the air by wiping his sticky hand on Anwar’s shirt.
“What the fuck?” Anwar snaps. “Not cool.”
Maxxie only grins at him, rolling off of his lap and the couch before Anwar can retaliate. “It’s technically your mess. So deal.”
“We’re not glowing anymore,” Tony says. “Cool.”
Anwar sighs, and grimaces down at his newly stained shirt. “Whatever. At least we didn‘t die a laser-y death.”
Tony stands up, pulling Anwar with him. “Right. And I’m sure Michelle’ll understand this time. I mean, she couldn’t possibly get mad if the sex was to save all of our lives.”
“She couldn‘t,” Maxxie agrees. “Ready to leave? This place isn’t half as exciting when there aren’t aliens standing at the bar.”
They all head towards the exit. Once they’re outside, Anwar says, “So, this night never ever happened, right?”
Maxxie shrugs, and says, “Of course,” at the same time Tony says, “Don’t even know what you’re talking about.”
Anwar nods. “Good.”