This was started with a vague plan of writing a longer fic that would at some point use/make fun of the odd names of various beers available around here1. I don't have the energy right now, though, and it makes a nice S/X kinda-pre-slash drabble. Rated R for language and advocating alcohol.
It started with beer.
Exactly which beer, Xander couldn’t say. One of the many I’m-gonna-kick-your-ass-this-time pitchers consumed during pool nights at the Bronze? One of the post-patrol good-fight-thank-the-gods-I’m-still-in-one-piece bottles in his basement? Maybe one of the she-dumped-me-for-a-fucking-Chaos-demon and I-can’t-believe-she-went-back-to-D’Hoffryn binge sessions contained the particular beer that turned the corner. That somehow made the transition from you’re-a-vampire to you’re-a-friend plausible, desirable, even necessary.
He wasn’t sure when he’d started thinking about what it would be like to make another transition. From friend to… more.
He figured they’d need a lot of beer to get past that one.
1Which include Waggle Dance, Dog's Bollocks, Bishop's Finger, Wyre Piddle, Fursty Ferret, Circle Master...and the list goes on.