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Neil knows that he’s been pushing it a little tonight with the teasing—he hadn’t bothered to disguise his blatant staring or flirting, and he’d dropped compliments like they were going out of style. He thinks that the final straw was the inane questions he’d been asking Andrew on the way home from Eden’s—he knew that they bothered Andrew in more ways than one. His question about how they fit so many horses in the Maserati to give it power nearly had Andrew pulling over to the side of the road.
For all that—and despite his instantaneous affirmative to the “Yes or no?” Andrew had asked him as he opened the front door—he wasn’t expecting Andrew to pick him up by his hips and slam him against the door as soon as it was locked.
Andrew nudges himself forward to fit himself between the thighs that Neil instinctively opens for him as their lips meet. Andrew’s mouth is hot and heavy and open as he moves it against Neil’s, and the glancing scrape of Andrew’s teeth over Neil’s bottom lip is like a molotov cocktail that ignites all of Neil’s nerve endings at the same time.
Neil places his hands on Andrew’s biceps to balance himself, knowing it’s a safe place and eager to feel the strength of the muscles effortlessly holding him up. It isn’t long before he’s breathing harshly, before he can feel every beat of his heart where it’s slamming against his ribs. He thinks that if he was reliant upon his legs to hold his weight right now, they’d be shaking under him.
He has to break the kiss to breathe, but Andrew's lips are relentless. They move from Neil's mouth down to his neck and stop at his pulse point, their contact with Neil's skin broken only by intermittent swipes of Andrew's tongue.
Neil tilts his head back so that Andrew has better access, though the sudden suction of Andrew's lips against his throat makes his head jerk backwards with more force than he'd intended.
The noise of his head meeting the door makes Neil blush and provokes a disbelieving huff from Andrew, who pulls away to look at Neil face to face. "Your neck fetish continues to be unattractive," he says, but there’s pink on his cheeks, too. The hazel of his eyes is almost entirely consumed by the dark of his pupils.
Neil laughs and leans forward to brush his lips against Andrew's. He pulls back to respond, "I guess I'm lucky, then, that you enjoy it when I make a fool of myself."
"Life does have its little pleasures."
Neil moves his hips against Andrew's as much as he can with what little leverage he has. "Are they really that little?"
Neil watches Andrew roll his eyes even as Andrew's body betrays him by moving even closer, further boxing Neil against the door. As far as Neil is concerned, it's still not close enough. He rolls his hips again, pulling Andrew in with his legs so that they're fully flush against one another.
His taunt works—Andrew is quick to kiss him again, to move their mouths together like he's trying to build a home in Neil's mouth and never leave. This time Andrew is the one to grind against him, and the slide is so good even through the layers of their clothes that Neil can't help but gasp. The noise is muffled against Andrew's lips, but he can tell that it affects Andrew by the way he instantly repeats the motion.
The rocking of their bodies against each other gets Neil close to the edge embarrassingly fast, though to be fair he has been working himself up for the last few hours. Every teasing comment he made towards Andrew tonight, every lingering stare, was done in anticipation of how Andrew would respond—in anticipation of how it would feel to be this close to him, moving together and sharing the same air between them.
Neil's body feels like a violin string that's been tightened too far, like he's about to snap and the slightest thing could set him off. "Ah, Andrew," Neil pants, "I'm so close."
He's expecting Andrew to double down and increase his pace, which is what usually happens when Neil says that to him. What he's not expecting, however, is for Andrew to completely stop—for Andrew to use his grip on Neil's hips to put some distance between them.
For a second, Neil can't help but whine. Then his brain catches up with his body, and he scrambles to set his feet back on the ground so that Andrew can take the space he needs. He's so focused on looking at Andrew's face and trying not to let his knees buckle that he doesn't even notice that Andrew's hands are still on his hips.
"Andrew? Is it a no?" he asks, gaze flitting from Andrew's eyes to the set of his mouth to try and determine what's going through his head.
"It's still a yes, Neil," Andrew replies, looking straight back at him.
Neil doesn't think that Andrew is lying—he knows this isn't something he would be dishonest about—but that just leaves him confused.
Andrew must see that on his face, because he's quick to elaborate. "I'm not done with you yet," he says. "All those hours of teasing, I’m not going to let you come in your pants ten minutes in."
Now that he knows that no boundaries were accidentally crossed and Andrew is just being an ass, Neil can feel himself settling into a glare.
“None of that, bunny,” Andrew chides, using Neil’s love of the pet name against him—he knows that it never fails to make Neil melt. He steps close and rubs his cheek against Neil’s scarred one. “You know I’ll take care of you, don't you?”
Neil can feel his glare melting into a pout against his will. Andrew always takes care of him.
When Andrew asks him "Yes or no" again, he responds in the affirmative. Neil takes a moment to kick off his shoes and sees Andrew do the same. He can tell that Andrew is eager by the way he doesn’t stop to line his pair up against the wall, and turns away to hide his smile.
Neil takes the hand that Andrew extends towards him and pretends that the way Andrew is swiping his thumb back and forth over Neil's knuckles isn't affecting him. He follows Andrew upstairs, still unsteady on his feet, and follows him again into their bedroom. He stands in the middle of the room and simply watches as Andrew shuts the door and locks it, as Andrew drops his knives on the dresser, as Andrew steps towards him until they're pressed together.
Neil reaches for the hem of Andrew's shirt, thinking that if he's going to have to wait for his release, he should at least be able to enjoy the view. At Andrew's nod, he steps back just as much as is necessary to pull at the black material, staring hungrily as Andrew's skin is exposed to him inch by inch.
From there, Andrew is quick to remove Neil's shirt as well. The air circulated by the ceiling fan above them is cold where it meets the sweat on the small of his back, leaving him shivering even as he comes closer again and leans into the warmth of Andrew's chest. The way that Andrew is looking at him certainly doesn't help. Neil feels his gaze like a physical touch—one that leaves behind goosebumps as it moves across his skin.
Andrew grabs Neil's hands in his own and raises them to meet behind his neck, and Neil gets the hint and leaves them there. Neil can't contain the pleased hum that leaves his mouth as Andrew's hands travel from there down to Neil's sides, snaking into the back pockets of Neil's too-tight jeans and using their grip there to move their hips together just the way he wants.
Their mouths inevitably gravitate together again, and this time Neil is the one to deepen it, to bite and pull at Andrew's lower lip. He uses the three inches of height he has on Andrew to press down against him, to try and convey his frustration and desire through the insistence of his mouth.
Andrew doesn't give him more than a handful of thrusts before he's instead using his grip to move Neil backwards. A few strides and then Andrew pulls his hands from Neil's ass and grabs his shoulders instead to lead him into sitting on the edge of the bed, separating their mouths in the process. Before Neil can complain, Andrew is kneeling on the floor between the splay of Neil's knees and reaching for his zipper.
Neil just about dies at the sight, but he has enough brainpower left to reach towards the head of the bed to grab a pillow for Andrew's knees. If Andrew keeps to his word—which he always does—Neil has a feeling he'll be down there for a while.
He watches as Andrew flicks open the button of his pants, and obligingly shifts his hips so that Andrew can pull them down his hips. Neil allows himself to exhale in relief as the constriction against his cock eases.
"If you hadn't insisted on dressing me in such tight jeans tonight, this would be a lot easier," he says as Andrew tugs and tugs to get the fabric down past the muscles of Neil's thighs.
"Not the point," Andrew rebukes, pulling all the harder to get the pants off of Neil. Once they're past Neil's ankles, Andrew is tossing them away and immediately moving his hands back up Neil's legs to get rid of his underwear, too.
Neil opens his legs further, a shameless invitation for Andrew to do as he likes, and buries his hands in the sheets to balance and brace himself. Of course, Andrew takes his sweet time from that point on. He runs his hands up and down the outside of Neil's thighs, intently watching how goosebumps rise on Neil's skin in their wake.
He slowly kisses up the inside of Neil's knee, following the line left from the seam of Neil's pants, but pulls away just before he reaches Neil's groin. He instead switches to the other leg, mouthing halfway up it before stopping to leave a love bite there. That draws a moan from Neil's lips, which drives Andrew to worry at that patch of skin with greater intensity, which drives Neil to make even more noise—their bodies together create a feedback loop that makes Neil desperate for Andrew to move, to get on with it, to unravel him.
If Neil's cock wasn't straining for attention before, it most definitely is now. Neil wants so badly to put his hands in Andrew's hair and guide his mouth where he wants it, and he can feel hands clenching in the sheets and his toes curling into the carpet as he restrains himself. He knows Andrew isn't a fan of having his hair tugged unless he explicitly asks for it, and Neil is so on edge that he thinks his hands might get away from him.
Neil watches with bated breath as Andrew looks up at him, as Andrew smiles in his way at whatever expression he must see on Neil's face. Neil doesn't have it in him to be embarrassed or bashful at his obvious desire—everything in him is humming in anticipation of Andrew's next touch.
Andrew presses a fleeting kiss against the head of Neil's cock before pulling back, and Neil whines Andrew's name. Andrew brackets his hands on the tops of Neil's thighs to hold him in place before he leans in again, pressing another teasing kiss there before finally, finally taking Neil into his mouth.
He gets right to it, taking Neil deep into his mouth until Neil can feel his cock hitting the back of Andrew’s throat. His mouth is so wet and warm that it doesn’t take long for Neil to be straining against Andrew’s hands on his thighs to try and move his hips closer, to try and exert some control over the slide of Andrew’s lips around him.
Neil is breathing in time with the movement of Andrew’s mouth, unable to stop his breathy exhalations and sighs. He can feel himself tensing as he gets close again, and he guesses that Andrew can tell as well by the way that he abruptly pulls off of Neil to lean back on his heels.
Andrew rubs his thumbs over Neil’s skin as he waits for Neil’s breaths to calm down, ignoring the glare that Neil shoots him.
When Neil moves his glare to the wall, however, Andrew reaches a hand up to guide Neil’s face back to him. “Look at me,” he says, and Neil does.
He looks Andrew in the eyes, sees the blatant desire and attraction—because of Neil, just for him—in Andrew's expression. He swallows heavily and maintains that eye contact as Andrew leans forwards to bring Neil to the brink once again.
The slightest hint of Andrew's teeth against his shaft, just enough for Neil to feel it, is almost enough for Neil to come then and there. The strangled groan that passes his lips is loud in the quiet of the room, and Andrew squeezes his thighs in warning but doesn't pull back this time. He sits there, looking up at Neil with Neil's cock sitting on his tongue, and the smugness is palpable.
"Fuck you," Neil says, because he needs some sort of outlet, and Andrew's answering hum is again almost too much for Neil to handle.
"You're a smug asshole," Neil tells him next.
Andrew simply raises an eyebrow back at him, but Neil can read into it, can practically hear what Andrew is thinking—Is it still being smug if I really am that good at getting you worked up?
Before Neil can lovingly insult Andrew any further, Andrew is back to swallowing and sucking around Neil like he was born to do it. Neil feels like his entire body is vibrating in place, like he's this close to shaking out of his own skin with the restless energy of his denied release.
When Andrew traitorously draws back again, his mouth slides off of Neil's cock with a lewd pop. He looks up at Neil in a considering manner that doesn't bode well for Neil's chances of coming anytime soon, clenching and flexing his jaw as he does.
Neil untangles his fingers from his death grip on their sheets, reaching forward to rub at the hinge of Andrew's jaw where he's sure it's aching. Andrew turns his head to kiss Neil's knuckles before standing, and Neil watches with bated breath as Andrew undoes the close of his pants and pushes them to the floor to step out of them.
He can't help but swallow heavily at the sight of Andrew's black briefs, at the outline of his cock and the dark spot where his precome has wet the fabric. He wants nothing more than to lean forward and reciprocate the care that Andrew has shown him, but he gets the feeling that's not what Andrew is after tonight.
Andrew gestures with his chin for Neil to move up the bed, and Neil scrambles to comply and get onto the middle of the bed, crawling backwards on his elbows until he's in place. He hears his pulse pound in his ears as Andrew strips and grabs a condom and the bottle of lube from the nightstand, as he drops them by Neil's side and climbs onto the mattress.
From there, Andrew spreads Neil's knees and puts himself between them, getting down on his elbows and teasing Neil by keeping his mouth just out of reach.
Neil won't stand for that—not when he knows that the teasing is only going to get worse from here. He uses his abdominal muscles to surge up and kiss Andrew, to nip at Andrew's lip in a way he knows Andrew can't resist. He's rewarded by Andrew groaning and chasing the kiss as Neil drops back against the bed.
When Neil moves his lips to kiss at the pulse point on Andrew’s neck, however, Andrew pulls away from him again and sits back on his knees between Neil’s thighs. He’s unmoved by Neil’s pout and pleading eyes and instead devotes his attention to grabbing a pillow to put beneath Neil’s hips, to opening the lube and warming some on his fingers.
Neil watches the way the glistening fluid stretches between Andrew’s fingers and is once again desperate for Andrew’s touch, dying to feel that wetness between his legs and know that Andrew’s cock is soon to follow. He guesses that Andrew can tell exactly what Neil is thinking, because he huffs a laugh and tells him, “Patience, bunny.”
Neil whines at Andrew, who takes his revenge by pressing still-cold lube against the sensitive skin of the crease where Neil’s thigh meets his ass. He smirks at the way that Neil jumps and hisses, slowly moving his fingers closer and closer to where Neil wants them.
Neil wiggles as much as he can to try and hasten the process, but Andrew is as obstinate as ever and won’t suffer being rushed. He places his unoccupied hand flat on Neil’s belly to keep him pinned down to the mattress before finally, finally, circling a wet finger around Neil’s hole.
Neil’s eyes slip shut. He feels himself tense and purposefully tries to relax, but it’s tough when he feels Andrew press into him and his immediate instinct is to clench down.
“Shhh,” Andrew says, and shifts his other hand to run comfortingly at Neil’s hip. Neil didn’t even realize he was making noise this time.
Neil feels himself once again melting under Andrew’s touch like chocolate in the sun, and he’s rewarded by a finger slowly sliding deeper inside him, knuckle by torturous knuckle.
Of course, Andrew immediately seizes the opportunity to wind Neil up again. He brushes his finger up and down just to the side of Neil’s prostate, though they both know damn well that Andrew has long since memorized exactly where it is. Before Neil can complain again, Andrew is withdrawing to just the first knuckle to start slipping a second finger in alongside the other.
Neil spreads his legs open further in a clear invitation, and his gasp at the stretch is echoed by a groan from Andrew. Neil looks up from Andrew’s arm between his thighs to see Andrew’s own eyes glued to his face, his expression more slack than usual in pure want.
Before Neil can even hope to make a quip about staring, Andrew graces him with a glancing touch to the prostate that has him practically seeing stars. As Andrew starts to scissor his fingers, Neil honestly wonders how he’ll survive the flood rising and receding inside him until Andrew finally decides to stop teasing and let him come.
It’s the sweetest agony Neil has ever felt, and he’s desperate. “Andrew, I’m ready,” he pleads.
“Oh, are you?” Andrew asks.
“Ye—ahhhh,” Neil breaks off into a moan, because Andrew chose the exact moment that Neil began to speak to stretch his fingers even further apart. He really is an asshole of unparalleled magnitudes, but damn if Neil doesn’t love him, doesn’t want him inside, closer, closer, as close as they can possibly get to one another.
Andrew relents for a moment, and Neil repeats himself even though he’s feeling short of breath. “Yes, Andrew. It’s a yes.”
Andrew licks his kiss-swollen lips and nods a single time, and Neil could just about die from relief. He manages to keep living, however, and watches with bated breath as Andrew grabs the condom and starts to unroll it down his length. Andrew gives his cock a couple strokes to rub off the extra lube still on his fingers, and Neil can feel his mouth pool with desire at the sight.
If this was any other time, any other night, Neil would be asking to touch Andrew, to maybe return the favor and take him in his mouth. Not tonight, however. Not with how much he needs to feel Andrew inside him.
Thankfully, Andrew seems to be getting with the program now. He settles himself back over Neil, elbows braced to either side of his head, looking down at Neil with so much feeling in his eyes. The fact that Andrew lets Neil see him like this drives another wave of warm heat all over his body.
He can’t help but reach up to run his hands through the short hairs at Andrew’s nape, gently putting pressure on Andrew’s neck to guide their lips together again. It’s a little slower this time, this joining of their mouths, but it’s no less passionate. Neil briefly thinks back to how he used to see kissing as pointless, meaningless, and can’t believe how wrong he was.
The bump of Neil’s erection against the soft skin of Andrew’s abdomen prompts him to whine against Andrew’s mouth. With that, Neil remembers his original goal and he wiggles until Andrew is exactly where he wants him—cradled right between Neil’s thighs.
Andrew lets out a heavy exhale and frees one hand to move one of Neil’s knees to hook over his hip. Then finally, finally, he slides that same hand to snake between them, taking himself in hand to rest the head of his cock against Neil’s hole. Neil can feel it against his flushed and sensitive skin, so hot and perfect, and he can’t help but shiver at the feeling.
Andrew makes eye contact with Neil, waiting until Neil gives him another frantic nod. He holds that eye contact as he slowly pushes in, punching a gasp from the depth of Neil’s lungs. He feels split open in the best of ways, and the feeling only grows as Andrew pushes further and further in until his hips are flush against Neil’s ass.
They pause for a moment, both of them panting. Then Neil can’t help but clench down experimentally, and Andrew clenches his teeth, grinds his hips against Neil. Neil makes a keening noise, hoping that Andrew will start to move in earnest, now, but Andrew doesn’t make any further movements.
“Andrew,” Neil pleads, tucking his face into the space between Andrew’s neck and shoulder. “Andrew, I’ll be good, I’ll be so good, just move—”
“I know you will, my little bunny,” Andrew murmurs into his ear. He begins a slow roll of his hips, starting with shallow thrusts where he barely pulls back at all before pressing forward again until Neil feels full, full, full. “I’ll take care of you.”
Andrew starts to pull back more and more with each movement, and Neil can hardly stand to be separated from him that much except for how good it feels when he slides back home, aiming just right to brush against Neil’s most sensitive spots.
Neil can’t help but to move his legs to cling more firmly to Andrew, to rock forward to meet him. Even in the depths of his pleasure, though, he’s still careful to telegraph the movement of one of his hands from the back of Andrew’s neck down his chest, giving Andrew time to speak up as he runs his hand appreciatively over Andrew’s pectorals before snaking around to press against the sweat slick skin just below Andrew’s shoulder.
Neil can distantly hear the little noises he’s letting out, can hear the wet noises of each thrust, the way the headboard has begun to rattle in place with their movements, but it doesn’t matter. All that matters is in front of him, in his arms. Neil holds Andrew as closely as he can, treasuring the feeling of home, of safety, of being taken care of just like Andrew had promised.
The flood is rising in Neil again, stronger than ever, waves crashing against a cliff higher and higher. It continues to build with each thrust as they move together, faster and harder. Neil can feel his body starting to tense once more, to clench and grind against Andrew inside of him as the pressure rises.
“Andrew,” he huffs, “I’m close—”
Andrew groans, briefly stuttering in his rhythm at the words. “Come for me,” he gasps out. “Wanna feel you.”
The permission, now that he finally has it, is enough to make him snap. Neil’s toes curl, his legs locking in place as his hips twitch of their own volition. He can vaguely feel his nails dragging against Andrew’s skin as his cock jerks between them, making a mess of their stomachs, but those individual sensations all pale to the euphoria washing over him.
It seems to keep going and going—dragging on longer than usual, spurred on by the stuttering movement of Andrew’s hips—until Neil can barely breathe. He finally takes in a breath, shuddering and coming back to himself just in time to feel Andrew rut against him once, twice more and then still, bearing down on Neil and twitching inside him as he finds his own release with a heavy cry of Neil’s name.
Still panting, Neil presses brief open-mouthed kisses up the hammering pulse of Andrew’s neck until their lips are together again. Andrew returns the kiss, then nuzzles his nose against Neil’s as they simply breathe together, inhaling and exhaling the same air.
After a moment, Andrew shakily moves to hold the condom in place as he pulls out. They both hiss and wince at the overstimulation, even though Neil feels the empty loss of Andrew inside him keenly.
Andrew has to sit up so that he can use both hands to tie off the condom, and Neil whines at how it requires him to let go for even a moment. Andrew lifts an almost judgemental eyebrow at Neil, his face flushed, beautiful, some of his blond locks sticking to his sweaty skin even as the rest are in disarray. “I’m right here, bunny,” he says. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Andrew drops the trash into the can beside the bed and settles back down partially over Neil, partially over the mattress just to his side. Their intertwined legs and the arm thrown over Neil’s chest bring a smile to Neil’s face even as Andrew grimaces a bit at the mess of Neil’s come between them.
Neil knows they’ll have to get up soon to clean off and clean up, to air out the bedroom and the heavy smell of sweat and sex in the air. But for the moment, he luxuriates once more in their closeness, in the way Andrew lets him lift a hand to run through his hair. The hand on Neil’s chest settles right over his heart, and Andrew’s thumb slides back and forth over the skin there.
“I’m not going anywhere, either,” Neil says, remembering Andrew’s words from just a few minutes before. The words are heavy with meaning—with the inextricable “us” between them, with Neil’s promise to stay by Andrew’s side.
“I know,” Andrew says, and the trust and belief and truth in the statement is ironclad.