Shopping with Allison can vary from a fifteen minute pitstop to a seven hour minimum expedition that leaves Neil more exhausted than he’s ever been in his entire life.
Sadly, today’s the latter, and Neil is struggling to keep himself on his feet as they enter another shop. This one in particular advertises something about a secret and has copious amounts of bras and underwear on display. His arms are numb from the various bags dangling off his arms, ranging from socks to an entire outfit that took Allison nearly forty minutes to decide on.
After he had voiced a complaint, she had given him a once over from his sneakers to his uncut hair, one eyebrow raised. “Okay, honey,” she said, voice like sugar. Neil had glared.
He knows that he can buy new clothes. He has the money and the freedom to “express” himself as Nicky puts it. But nothing appeases him. Why should he spend over a hundred bucks on some new sneakers when the pair he currently owns still work just fine? His clothes aren’t in the best shape, considering they’re threadbare from being on the run most of his life, but they still cover everything needed.
That’s all that matters, right?
“I need a new push up,” Allison tosses over her shoulder to him as she strides into the shop. That’s one thing Neil has noticed about Allison - she doesn’t simply walk anywhere. It’s always with a long, borderline aggressive gait that has people hurrying out of her way.
Neil furrows his brow. He feels like they aren’t talking about the exercise.
Allison leads the way to the back of the shop where drawers full of bras are pulled open. They range from a thick material to barely being anything at all. Neil can’t help but stare in confusion as Allison starts picking through the selection.
“What are these?” Neil asks, and points as best as he can with his bag-laden arm to the skimpy accessory.
Allison pauses. “That’s lingerie.”
Neil blinks. Allison drops the bra she’s holding back into the drawer and wraps a long arm over Neil’s shoulders. A shark-like grin spreads across her face as something clicks in her mind.
“Come on,” she says, herding him towards another part of the store, “let’s see what we can find for you.”
Allison finds him a lot of things. Mostly because when she asks his opinion, he doesn’t have one. He doesn’t understand what’s so exciting about lingerie. Sure it’s soft, but nothing seems necessary. The underwear isn’t sturdy, more of laces interwoven in on itself, and the night top was more of an expensive embroidered pillowcase than anything else, straps thinner than spaghetti. Allison had lamented on how “pretty” it all was, how the dark blue fabric brought out Neil’s eyes, but Neil couldn’t find the appeal.
It couldn’t help him run faster on the court, so what was the purpose?
But Allison wasn’t deterred no matter how many points Neil brought up, and shoved a frilly pink bag into his chest with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
“Trust me, you and your boytoy will thank me later.”
Neil has no intention of showing Andrew what is in the bag. The moment he gets back in the dorm, he’s shoving it far away into some unknown crevice where it will be forgotten until someone’s birthday rolls around. At that point, he will unearth and regift it.
That’s Neil’s plan.
Long story short: Neil’s plan doesn’t work out like that.
Andrew isn’t back yet from classes, something about a workshop or lab that runs until after seven, so Neil spends his time putting Exy matches on in the background and knocking out math problems. He doesn’t glance at the pink bag. He doesn’t wonder what Allison was hinting at the entire time she had picked out his size.
Neil makes it fifteen minutes before his curiosity wins out over his stubbornness.
The top stops just above Neil’s navel, the bottom hem just as lacy as the breast area. It’s a complex arrangement of soft threads laced into one another which makes him shiver when they catch on his nipples. His scars make the fabric settle a little awkwardly on his skin, raised along the prominent tissue and doing nothing to hide them. But for some reason, Neil doesn’t mind that much. It’s calming to run his fingers through the loops and along the hem in a way his other clothes never provide.
The bottoms are a different story, however. Neil knows what they are. Panties, the same color as the top, but just as translucent and elegant. Neil has never had a real preference for underwear, usually picking whatever was cheapest whether it be briefs or boxers. But holding the skimpy article made his skin buzz strangely.
Neil glances at the clock. He has forty minutes until Andrew’s bound to come back to the dorm. He would try on the bottoms for five minutes tops, and then he’d be done, curiosity sated.
Neil shimmies out of his shorts and briefs and slowly pulls on the panties.
They’re even softer than the top, eliciting goosebumps across his thighs, and fit snugly over his soft dick. They do nothing to hide anything down there either, the bulge of his crotch prominent and the hems barely reaching the creases of his thighs and ass.
For some reason, Neil’s heart is pounding and he feels...good.
He needs to take them off.
He doesn’t want to take them off.
He wants to look in the mirror, just to see what he looks like, just a peek, but that might be taking it too far. What if he looks good?
Neil is already hurrying to the bathroom and flicking on the light.
He glances in the mirror and scrambles to turn the light back off.
He does look good.
Fuck, he looks really good.
A strange wave of giddiness bubbles up in the pit of Neil’s stomach and his skin hums with an unfamiliar energy, something different from stepping onto the court or kissing Andrew.
His ugly scars are still there, marring his face and extending down his body, but the laces add a strange mask over them, making them softer, more appealing.
Neil looks good.
He needs to take the lingerie off.
He doesn’t want to take it off.
It’s not practical, Neil reasons with himself, running his fingers over and over the designs. It serves no purpose to himself or others. It’s not a bulletproof vest, but then again, there’s no need for anything like that anymore. It doesn’t help on the court, but Neil has plenty of pads and racquets and uniforms thanks to Wymack.
He can’t keep something like this just because it makes him feel good.
Neil’s hands inch toward the light switch, torn between ripping the underclothes off and sneaking one last peek at himself. It’s not like he’ll ever wear it again. He has a plan. Renee or Dan would love something like this. Sure, he’ll need to wash it afterwards which will be a feat in itself, but it’s not impossible -
The dorm room door clicking shut spurs Neil into action.
Adrenaline singing in his veins, he slams the bathroom door closed and flicks the lock into place, rushing to turn the shower on to hide his panic. How long does he normally take in the shower? Fifteen minutes? Fuck, he didn’t bring any clothes in with him, but there’s still a towel hanging on the rack from this morning. He can stash the lingerie under the cabinet since Andrew shaved this morning, and then when he goes on his early run, he can hide it in a less conspicuous place.
Neil grabs the hem of his tank and stills when knuckles rasp against the door.
Neil clears his throat harshly and hopes his voice comes out nonchalant. “I’m taking a shower, I’ll be out in a moment.”
“Any particular reason an empty Victoria’s Secret bag is on the couch?” Andrew’s voice sounds bored, but Neil knows him well enough to detect a strange undercurrent of curiosity.
Andrew knows him well enough that even with a locked door between them, he would still be able to pick up his lie. And Neil promised him he’s done lying.
Mustering up the scraps of his courage, heart low in his stomach and fingers trembling, Neil turns off the shower and slowly unlocks the bathroom door. Andrew makes no move to open it, leaving it up to Neil to take the next step.
Neil pinches the hem of the tank and opens the door.
Andrew stands just on the other side, dressed in a dark button down and jeans, face a blank slate. When he sees Neil, his jaw clenches so hard, Neil is shocked his teeth don’t shatter.
“Allison made me buy it,” Neil flounders, because the silence between them is too heavy. “She wouldn’t take no for an answer. I didn’t even try it on at the store, but I was alone so I just thought. I mean, I’m going to give it to someone else, Renee or Dan, for their birthday after I wash it, I’m not keeping it-”
“Neil,” Andrew interrupts, voice low and eyes dark, “yes or no?”
A thrill sparks down Neil’s spine and he’s suddenly very aware of the soft laces on his skin.
Andrew moves like a hungry animal, pinning Neil to the closed bathroom door, smothering Neil’s body with his own. He licks into Neil’s mouth with a fervor that has Neil struggling to keep up, large hands running on the strip of skin laid bare between the tank and the panties. Neil can feel Andrew hardening against his hip, even through his thick jeans, and feels his own cock responding eagerly.
Andrew pulls back only to bite sharply down the arch of Neil’s throat and laves his tongue along the silk straps. Neil groans low in his throat and tugs at the short hairs at the back of Andrew’s head.
“Do you-” Neil has to pause to suck in a breath when Andrew’s hand skims the hem of his panties, “like them?”
Slowly, Andrew pulls back. His eyes are blown wide. A flush spreads from his throat to under his collar.
The look he gives Neil is enough of an answer that Neil surges forward to kiss Andrew again.
Neil is fully hard in his panties now, the elastic too weak to trap his boner against his skin, tenting out lewdly in the front with the head of his cock peeking out. Andrew rubs his groin against Neil’s, pulling a high moan from him.
“Fuck,” Neil whimpers against Andrew’s lips, rolling his hips forward for more pressure, more anything.
Andrew pulls back and looks down between their flush bodies to where their hips press together, the head of Neil’s cock barely visible but still present all the same, trapped by both panties and jeans.
Hands skirt down Neil’s sides, and with an admission from Neil, Andrew fits them into the crease where his ass meets his thighs, thumbs rubbing at the hem of his panties. Neil grinds against Andrew again, sucking on his teeth at the lack of friction.
“Look at you,” Andrew practically growls, chest vibrating with the baritone of it against Neil’s. The praise is sudden and unexpected and has Neil full on rubbing himself like a cat against Andrew, back arching with the enthusiasm. The panties are already drenched and Neil’s working on enlarging the wet splotch on the front of Andrew’s jeans.
His work is cut short, however, because Andrew detaches himself from Neil and takes a step back. His hands stay where they are.
“I’m going to lock the door. Get on the bed.”
The moment Andrew is gone, Neil rushes to scramble onto the bed, sprawling out on his back. He lets his hand pinch and roll the head of his cock for some sense of relief. It’s almost embarrassing how much he’s leaking precome and the panties are definitely going to have to be washed at least twice, but with how Andrew was hungrily drinking him in, Neil can’t find himself to care much.
Andrew reappears, digs around in the desk drawer, and stops to stand at the edge of the bed with lube and a condom in hand. He drops the items onto the sheets and unbuttons his jeans.
“Yes or no?”
Neil unzips Andrew’s jeans in reply and pulls his hard cock from his briefs. He wastes no time sucking the head into his mouth, gripping the base, and sliding his mouth until it meets his fingers. Andrew growls and splays one hand across Neil’s cheek and the other in his hair. Neil pushes his dick until it bulges in his cheek and Andrew rubs his palms against the outline, lips parting on a pant.
He pulls back on a lewd slurp, making sure to flatten his tongue on the underside. The next slide down is farther than the first, and Neil sets to working Andrew’s cock hard and fast how he likes it. When Neil first gave a blowjob, it had been a halting process with Neil not knowing what to do with his teeth and how far he could go before he gagged. Andrew had been patient, directing him through it all, but in the end he had to use his own hand to finish. Neil had swallowed though, so that should count for something.
Neil has had practice since then though. A lot of practice.
Andrew’s hand in his hair tightens into a fist, rocking along with Neil as he bobs his head over his cock. Just as Neil is working Andrew’s cock into his throat, something that always takes a few minutes to work up to, Andrew pulls him off. His dick slaps wetly against his stomach.
“Hands and knees.”
There’s something sultry about kneeling on a bed, wearing only lingerie, and sucking cock. Neil, if given the opportunity, definitely wants a repeat. But for now, Neil turns over into position. Anticipation hums under his skin and has him rocking his hips back in search of anything Andrew is willing to give. A thumb presses over Neil’s lace -clothed entrance. The snap of the lube cap opening spurs Neil to widen his legs apart. Andrew’s approval comes in the form of the hem of Neil’s panties being pulled down just enough so a lubed finger can press in.
Dropping his chest to the sheets, Neil moans. This is what he wants. He wants Andrew to fuck him like this, from behind. He can always reach deeper at this angle, can drive himself in harder and faster. Andrew usually likes to fuck face-to-face, but even he seems to like how Neil can never keep a lid on his voice begging him for more. Getting fucked from behind awakens some primal aspect in Neil. He loses his conscious thought and all he can focus on is Andrew’s cock.
Andrew fingers him thoroughly. He isn’t teasing Neil, far from it, but he still can’t help but groan out his complaints. He’s just so - hard. Wanting. The softness of the lingerie fuels his arousal until he’s burning up.
“Andrew,” Neil pants into the sheets, “Andrew, come on.”
A hand slides down Neil’s spine, tracing over the intricate laces of his tank top, and then over the rise of his ass.
“I’m going to fuck you,” Andrew says, “Yes or no?”
Neil grabs the panties and gets them halfway down his thighs until Andrew stops him.
“Leave them,” he says. Before Neil can open his mouth to say something, anything, because this is unexpected, especially when it comes to Andrew wanting during sex, Andrew slides the head of his cock from where the panties rest just behind Neil’s balls to his entrance. The movement leaves Neil shuddering and shifting backwards for more friction.
The first press in has Neil keening and burying his face into the sheets. Andrew’s hands are hot as they rest on the backs of his shoulders, thumbs digging deep. He uses this leverage to slowly pull Neil back to meet the roll of his hips. Neil can’t help but wanting to see Andrew from a different perspective when he moves like this. He can only imagine the flush down his chest, the bulging of his biceps, the flex of his hips as he drives into Neil long and deep.
Andrew kisses like fire but fucks like lava.
“Fuck yeah,” Neil grounds out, pushing himself up from his elbows to his hands so he can move back more efficiently. Andrew shifts closer by nudging Neil’s thighs further apart until he’s bowed open, pliant and willing.
Neil waits for the momentum to gain, like it always does when Andrew is like this. He starts slow and languid, but soon enough his thrusts meld into sharp, harsh rocks that usually leave Neil gasping. But it never comes. Andrew keeps his slow pace, sometimes even stopping with his cock half buried, opting to move his hands over Neil’s laced-clothed back instead, before restarting the cycle.
Neil’s orgasm simmers under his skin but never surfaces enough to call for immediate attention. His cock is hard and trapped awkwardly against the lace front of his panties, but right now all he can think about is the tantalizing press of Andrew’s cock, his wide palms, the low rumbling of his chest when he’s usually quiet save for harsh breaths.
Suddenly, Andrew pulls all the way out, leaving Neil bare and raw, startling him into looking over his shoulder in surprise. His panties are tugged roughly up into place and dread sets into Neil’s stomach. He must’ve done something wrong. What was it? Did he-
Andrew pushes his thumbs into where the lace covers Neil’s entrance and rips.
Neil nearly comes when Andrew pushes his cock back inside, right through his panties.
Neil does come when Andrew breaths out a low “fuck” and wraps a hand around Neil’s soaked dick. It only takes him two pulls and the hard rut of Andrew’s hips for his vision to white out. When Neil comes back to, Andrew’s front is flush to Neil’s back, pinning him to the bed.
Andrew’s mouth is hot where it skims against the back of Neil’s ear. Neil turns his head slightly, looking for a kiss, which Andrew gives wetly. The bed creaks underneath them as Andrew begins to fuck down into Neil earnestly, the loud slapping of flesh on flesh filling the dorm room. Neil tries his best to rock back, but his body feels like honey so the best he can do is moan out praises for how good Andrew is.
Andrew smashes his face against the side of Neil’s and comes, hips twitching sporadically.
The sound of Andrew pulling out is wet and lewd in every way possible, coupled by the fact that Neil is wearing now-ruined lingerie. Neil’s cheeks flush.
The bed creaks as Andrew ties the condom off and throws it away, and then again when he stretches out beside Neil.
“Okay?” Neil asks, tired and syrupy.
Andrew smooths a hand over his damp brow. “Okay.”
Neil feels as if he should ask more, maybe inquire into what exactly set Andrew off, but exhaustion drains him until he’s practically falling asleep with fluttering eyelids.
There would always be tomorrow.