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“Hey love, long day playing sociopath?” Neil asks quietly, his eyes trailing over Andrew like he can see to the core of him, to the depths of his bones and the breadth of his soul. As if he can see to a place other people hadn’t even bothered to glance at before, assuming there was nothing to find but emptiness. Neil looks at him and Andrew hates him because Neil is looking at him like that, like he understands him and he wants to stay because of it, not in spite of it.
He feels the warmth flood him, and it’s infuriating because Neil’s knowing gaze on him is like Andrew said ‘please’ one time and has been handed everything he’d dreamed for. A younger Andrew’s dream that wasn’t meant to manifest into reality. Andrew had said please hundreds of times years ago, with a sickness crawling up his throat and pain screaming through his body. He’d said please through tears, in loud shouts, in begging and prayer, but he had never said the word to Neil.
Never.
However, somewhere along the line, his hazel eyes had met the frozen lake of Neil’s and they’d whispered ‘please’ so quietly that he himself hadn’t even noticed the action. Then a silent please had prefixed every phrase since: ‘please don’t go’, ‘please stay’, ‘please get your ass in the car’, ‘please get back to bed’, ‘please put your hands in my hair’. Somehow, Neil had heard it in every bereft pause. It was as if he’d said please and been handed too much at once, the over sensitivity of it skittering along his skin, giving way to uncertainty.
Neil looks at him again, gaze softening further, into something akin to loving, and Andrew feels his breathing stop but his body grounds itself. Like Neil is simultaneously anchoring him and skyrocketing him into the atmosphere, and then Neil is in front of him. The faint smell of their so-called ‘spring breeze’ laundry detergent mixed with the citrus smell of Neil’s body wash makes the world spark into colour. It does so in a way that Andrew still can’t comprehend, because he can’t fathom how one junkie runaway liar had become the truth of everything.
“I told you to stop calling me that” he says, not because he particularly cares, but because he wants something to halt his thoughts.
“What you actually said was that calling you ‘love’ was stupid” Neil reminds him, as if Andrew could forget his own words when he remembers everything in blaring clarity.
“It is stupid” Andrew states blandly and watches Neil’s lips rise, a vicious sort of smile playing on his face. He swallows as Neil steps closer and says, quieter this time, “You’re stupid”
“So stupid” Neil agrees, but the words mean nothing as he crowds Andrew’s space, two hands against the now closed door.
The pause to wait for Andrew’s answer to the unasked question sparks another jolt of warmth through his body and he exhales a “Yes.”
Leaning down into him, Neil presses a firm and almost desperate kiss to his lips, as if he’s been waiting for this moment since Andrew left the room this morning. Andrew places his hands tentatively on Neil’s waist and Neil hums his approval, giving Andrew cause to tighten his grip. He pulls Neil flush against his body and kisses him till he feels that familiar aching need spread over his body at the presence of Neil Josten.
There’s something almost exciting about being pressed into the door when it’s Neil, and Andrew groans softly, deepening the kiss. It’s electric and he grabs at Neil, pulling at his top and Neil releases that feral little grin that Andrew loves as he tilts back to allow his top to be taken off. Andrew throws it somewhere in some undetermined direction of the living room.
“Bedroom?” Andrew asks.
“Yes” Neil almost pants and Andrew takes his hand and pulls him to the bedroom, hearing Neil chuckle as he shuts the door behind them.
“Want you inside me” Neil tells him, eyes looking desperately at Andrew as he sits down onto the bed, holding himself up by his elbows behind him. “Yes or no?”
“Yes, fuck yes” Andrew says and eyes Neil’s naked torso, that ravenous feeling settling over his body.
“Do you want to open me up?” Neil asks carefully. “Or shall I do it?”
“I’m doing it” Andrew tells him in a tone way too possessive and moves closer, his hands hovering over his sweatpants waiting on the enthusiastic nod that Neil gives him. Quickly he takes them off and makes quick work of his underwear too, watching as Neil inches himself backwards, adjusting his legs. Andrew can’t help but take a moment to appreciate the ease of which Neil hands his body over to him. He wouldn’t say it out loud but there’s something beautiful about how he looks as he does, legs spread, lips parted, eyes searching out Andrew and waiting with bated breath.
There’s not a lot of restraint in Andrew after that, he makes quick work of opening Neil up on his fingers, smirking at Neil as he writhes and pants below him. Neil’s cock is hard and leaking against his abdomen and Andrew wants to lick along the spot, so before he pulls out his fingers, he leans forward. Curling his fingers inside of Neil, he presses his tongue firmly to Neil’s abdomen and licks along the growing wet patch, a soft noise catching in the back of his throat. However, it’s nothing in comparison to the deep groan that Neil lets out as he watches Andrew intently, gasping slightly when Andrew’s tongue grazes the head of his cock.
Removing his fingers from Neil, Andrew lubes up his cock and kneels over him, looking down at his boyfriend, whose face is flushed a pretty pink colour.
“You look wound up” Andrew teases as he lines his cock up to Neil’s entrance.
“Yes, Andrew” Neil hisses out, hips shuddering slightly in their need to buck and Andrew moves his free hand to his hip, drawing soft circles with his thumb. He eases inside Neil, listening closely to each moan and whispered praise that Neil lets slip as Andrew slowly bottoms out inside him.
“You always feel so big” Neil says and it’s almost reverent, like Andrew’s cock is something for him to worship.
“You ready for more?”
“Fuck yeah, more, I need it. You can move” Neil agrees eagerly, nodding profusely.
Andrew rolls his eyes and smirks down at Neil before placing his other hand on his hip and gripping slightly tighter to begin thrusting.
His greatest joy is watching Neil get lost in sex, as if he knows Andrew will protect him in this moment so he can just be consumed in the pleasure of it. Noises slip from Andrew too, unable to stop as they move with each other, Neil meeting every thrust with his own, making him moan loudly.
“Andrew, oh fuck, Andrew, you feel so good. Just like that” Neil coos up at him and goes to wrap his arms around Andrew’s neck, waiting for his nod first. Andrew feels a faint warmth in his heart at the quiet praise and Neil’s arms draped around his neck.
He keeps driving his cock into Neil, feverishly hitting his prostate, wanting him to come first, wanting to see that pleasure on his face.
“Neil” Andrew whispers and the startling blue of Neil’s eyes meets his. “Neil, come for me” he tells him, and that’s all it takes for Neil because Neil would do anything for him, but especially this.
Body shaking, Neil comes, it splatters across his torso, painting him beautifully and the image in front of Andrew has him pounding harder. His grip tightens and he grunts out Neil’s name as he spills inside of him, loving how tight Neil holds onto him as he buries himself deep into Neil’s ass.
They stay still for a while until Andrew’s breathing slows and then he pecks Neil’s lips softly and grabs a tissue from the side to wipe off the excess as he pulls out.
He sits at the side of Neil, stretching slightly, preparing to go get a cloth for Neil and then shower by himself to cool off after such a level of intimacy. But Andrew, who for the past year and some months of their ‘this’ is accustomed to leaving straight after sex, pauses at the look on Neil’s face.
“What?” He asks, a whirring in his head fighting down a small voice in the back of his head that he can’t hear over the noise thrumming in his ears.
“Nothing” Neil says and it’s too quick for him to mean it, it’s too close to his ‘I’m fine’ when he’s brushing one of the Foxes’ concerns off.
“Neil” Andrew chastises, tone low with an inflection of a threat he can’t hold back.
“I just wish you’d come cuddle sometimes, but I know you can’t. I know you don’t” Neil dismisses his own words in favour of rolling onto his back to look at the ceiling, which Andrew would usually take as his sign to leave. Which he does, but only to clean himself up, and get a cloth for Neil to clean his body once he’s back in their bedroom.
Whispering a “Thank you”, Neil continues to stare up, not even glancing in the direction of Andrew. Clearly pushing down the confession, refusing to let the raw emotion surface on his expression again as Andrew cleans him. Andrew watches Neil’s face as he locks down each one of his own needs in favour of protecting Andrew, the emotions from before fading behind a placating mask.
“Don’t do that” Andrew tells him quietly, so quietly he’s not sure if Neil hears at first.
“Do what?” Neil asks eventually.
“Shut down”
“I’m not shutting down on you” Neil says, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on his hand. “I promise, I wouldn’t ever”
“You’re shutting down your own feelings. I know you protect my boundaries fiercely but I want to know your thoughts too” Andrew explains, and it’s difficult to say but he knows he has to.
With an inhalation of breath, Andrew sits on the bed and then swings his legs up, his still naked body pressing against Neil’s as he positions himself. Andrew’s skin crawls a little at the touch but he ignores it in favour of watching Neil’s face. His boyfriend takes a sharper intake of breath, eyes going wide at the contact, but there’s a need sparking behind his surprise. It’s a need that Andrew usually sees when the Foxes crowd around each other after an Exy match win, when they’re kissing his head and hugging him.
Neil craves contact. He had been starved of it his whole life.
Rolling his eyes so that he’s doing anything but acknowledging the unnecessary guilt brimming in him, he gestures for Neil to turn over. Without question, Neil turns to face the window, where the moon is high and the stars are bright in the darkened sky with the campus streetlights now off for the night. Trying to stop the tremors that still haunt his body, Andrew slots tighter behind Neil and draws up the covers that they’d earlier kicked to the bottom of the bed. He hears Neil’s shaky breath as his scarred and bare arm wraps around Neil’s waist to tug him in tighter. Then he feels Neil’s muscles loosen, a full body slump that usually only happens when he’s fresh off a win and bone deep exhausted. Staring at his own arm over the covers makes him realise the vulnerability of this moment, both of their bodily and mental scars laid almost entirely bare. It was always okay in front of each other, but this moment feels momentous in their relationship, even if Andrew hates that word.
Decisively, Andrew removes his arm and slips it under the covers, so his scarred arm lines up against Neil’s scarred torso. He holds onto him like he’ll disappear, like he’ll dissipate into a cloud of smoky hazed hallucinations, like he can’t possibly be real.
“This is nice” Neil admits after a while.
“You’re going soft on me, Josten” Andrew berates, because the only other words he has are those three words, and they don’t feel adequate for what he feels right now.
“You like it” Neil utters softly and strokes along Andrew’s arm, as if the scars soothe him. It was a stark comparison to the horror Andrew had been met with on the rare occasions anyone else had seen them. After a beat of silence, Neil speaks again, “I like that you like it, my love”
Andrew takes that for all that it means. Their confessions built into word-play and games, and it’s peaceful to have someone understand him enough to articulate so much with so little. Especially in a way that means he isn’t forced to say the words bluntly and openly.
They’re each other’s promise, each other’s forever, and they both know that. There’s no ‘I love you’s or ‘please’s, there’s never a moment where Neil tells Andrew he misunderstands something, because they get each other. Neil knows how much words mean to Andrew, how lies and truths and promises and certain words have a profound impact that others don’t see.
He presses in closer to Neil, fingers hooking under Neil’s body as he sighs softly, his chin landing on Neil’s shoulder. The man in his arm makes a pleased sound as he shuffles back against him, and Andrew can feel Neil, cat-like, swiping his cheek along Andrew’s hair. Even with his back to the room and his body exposed under the covers, Andrew can’t help but relax into the feeling of his boyfriend who is content and sated. Can’t help but start to fall asleep to the deep breathing underneath him, his own eyes growing heavy as he nuzzles in tighter mumbling into the crook of Neil’s neck, “Night, my love”