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The past is something Andrew rarely finds useful to dwell on. But sometimes it comes to him unbidden.
He realizes, occasionally, that he’s content in life. It’s not something he’d ever thought possible, certainly nothing he’d ever hoped for. He had always expected to go out like a flame, blaze brightly before being quickly extinguished.
It’s hard to reckon with sometimes, but he has to admit, silently, that he’s happy.
It’s a warm afternoon in the offseason and he has no obligations for several weeks. He’s stretched out on a couch, in an apartment he owns, with the only person he’d share his life with dozing against his chest.
Neil had been the most unexpected part of all of this, really. He’d never thought he’d have something like this, especially not with this smart ass. Andrew detests the word love. It’s been used against him far too many times. But he and Neil don’t need words for what’s between them; they both know.
Neil’s chest rises and falls just deep enough that Andrew can tell he’s in the fragile middle between dozing and sleeping. He can’t stop himself from reaching down to stroke his fingers over the edges of the raised scar on Neil’s face.
Neil makes a sleepy noise in response, nuzzling closer. Andrew looks down into glassy blue eyes. Neil’s fingers curl in Andrew’s shirt sleeve as he blinks away the last remnants of his nap.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks around a yawn, noticing Andrew’s pensive look.
“Nothing,” Andrew answers automatically.
The corner of Neil’s lips quirk and the second he opens his mouth to speak, Andrew presses a finger against his lips.
“If that joke was ever amusing, it stopped being so at least 7 years ago,” he says drily.
Neil laughs but doesn’t press his luck. Instead he nips at the finger shushing him. Andrew’s gaze darkens instantly and Neil smirks before dragging his tongue against the digit.
“I can’t fucking stand you,” Andrew says without heat.
“Sure,” Neil agrees amicably, sitting up just enough to adjust his position. He crawls into Andrew’s lap, properly straddling him.
Andrew looks utterly unamused but Neil knows him far better than that. “So what were you thinking about?” he asks again.
“The 130lbs of dumbass currently giving me a cramp in my thigh.”
“Sounds like you’re kind of obsessed with me,” Neil says, wrapping his fingers lightly around the back of Andrew’s neck.
“Fuck you,” Andrew says, but it’s betrayed by the way his eyes flick to Neil’s lips.
“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he says with a smirk, and that’s all it takes for Andrew to pull him in, crushing their lips together.
It’s somehow lazy and needy at the same time. Neil settles against him, chest pressed against Andrew’s. His fingers tangle in blonde locks as they gasp against each other's lips.
Neil breaks away eventually, lips trailing across Andrew’s cheek, then his jaw. He continues lower, licking a stripe up Andrew’s neck before settling in to kiss and lap at the sensitive hinge of his jaw.
Andrew grunts, fingers tightening slightly on Neil’s hips.
Neil can feel him growing hard against his ass and his kisses turn biting until Andrew growls against his ear, rocking his hips up against Neil, who groans happily.
Andrew takes the lead, pulling Neil back in for a filthy kiss before pushing him back to manhandle him out of his shirt. Neil lets himself be pushed backwards until he’s laid on the couch with Andrew hovering over him.
Neil’s cocky grin lasts until Andrew’s mouth touches his chest, tongue and teeth tracing the map of scars across his torso. Soft moans flood from between his lips and his fingers clench in the sleeves of Andrew’s shirt.
“Fuck,” he groans when Andrew takes a hard nipple between his teeth, worrying at it with his tongue. “Yeah, fuck.”
Once upon a time Neil hadn’t thought it possible to have something like this. He hadn’t even fantasized, it was so far from reality. But Andrew takes him apart so easily, like they were made for each other.
In some fucked up way, maybe they were. But the easy comfort between them was something he’d never take for granted. These days these yes or no questions were mostly non verbal, and Neil was so hyper aware of what it meant for Andrew to give him that bit of trust. He trusted Neil to stop him if he needed to. Neil would never take that lightly.
Andrew’s wandering mouth begins to move lower, biting marks down Neil’s stomach and across his exposed hip bones. He worries marks there for a long moment, fingers curled lightly around the elastic waist of Neil’s shorts.
Neil looks down into Andrew’s molten gaze, causing a hot flush of want to spike through him. He licks his lips and nods.
He lifts his hips and lets Andrew pull his shorts and briefs down in one go. He’s achingly hard and he can’t even pretend to hide the needy noise that leaves his mouth when Andrew starts biting a path up his thighs instead of sucking him off.
He can feel Andrew’s smirk against his skin before he moves again, finally touching Neil where he’s so desperate for it. Andrew’s thin fingers wrap around the base of his dick and Neil could almost come from the visual alone.
He groans loudly but almost immediately Andrew’s mouth is wrapping around him and coherent thought flies out the window.
“Oh fuck, oh god, Andrew,” Neil moans, fingers tangling in the man’s hair.
Andrew hums around him and Neil’s hips jerk at the sensation. Andrew’s arm moves and then he’s pinning Neil to the couch so he can take him deeper.
Andrew isn’t taking his time today, and it’s far too easy for him to take Neil apart. The sloppy sound of Andrew taking him deep and fast is more than Neil can handle.
He’s losing himself in the hot, wet pleasure, curses and moans intermingling as they spill from between his lips.
“Andrew, Andrew, fuck, God,” he doesn’t know if it’s a plea or a prayer and he doesn’t care.
Andrew responds by pulling Neil’s leg over his shoulder so he has a better angle to take him apart.
It should be impossible for someone to be this good with their mouth. Neil practically sobs as his orgasm tears through him. His fingers clench so hard in Andrew’s hair that the man grunts, but continues to swallow around him, working him through the waves of pleasure.
Neil releases his grip as soon as he can convince his fingers to unlock. His chest heaves as the world slowly clicks back into place around him.
“Holy fuck Andrew,” Neil gasps. Andrew sits back looking smug. It has Neil’s dick attempting to twitch already.“Let me touch you,” he begs, voice wrecked like he was just the one with a dick down his throat.
Andrew pulls his shorts down just enough to free his dick as he straddles Neil’s waist. Neil spits into his hand and wastes no time wrapping his hand around Andrew’s thick cock, giving it an experimental tug.
Andrew’s never been nearly as vocal as Neil, but the flutter of his eyelids betrays just how much he’s aching for release.
Neil would love to draw it out, to tease Andrew and take him apart but neither of them have the patience. He sets a rough pace but it’s clear from Andrew’s ragged breaths and the way one hand clenches on the back of the couch that it’s the correct one.
Neil can’t help but stare in awe at the man above him. Andrew’s eyes are closed, and there’s a furrow between his eyebrows. His teeth worry at his lower lip as he fucks into Neil’s hand.
“Neil,” is all the warning he gets before Andrew is spilling across Neil’s chest. The rough quality of Andrew’s voice is the only sign of how much Neil affects him.
They stay in that position for a long minute, both trying to catch their breath and come down from their highs.
Andrew’s eyes finally open and he looks down at Neil for a moment before throwing Neil’s shirt over his face.
“What?” Neil demands as he grabs it and uses it to wipe his chest off.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Andrew says simply.
“I’ll look at you however I want,” Neil answers, petulant.
“You always do,” Andrew says exasperated before falling back onto the couch, eyes closing as he rests his head against the arm, content to fall asleep right here.
Neil moving and climbing off the couch has him dragging his lids back open.
“Where are you going?” Andrew questions as he watches Neil pull his briefs and shorts back on.
“For a run,” Neil says. “I’m feeling awake.”
Andrew stares at him, the weight of his judgment on full display. He’s about to roll over and nap when Neil’s eyebrow quirks.
“I could be convinced to stay,” he says simply. Andrew stares at him in silence. “Make it worth my time,” Neil adds before starting for his sneakers.
Andrew lets him get most of the way across the room, refusing to look needy.
“Get back here,” he says. Neil’s fingers release the shoes he’d just bent to retrieve, and he obediently shuffles back across the room, stopping in front of Andrew. “Sit.”
Neil does.
Andrew disappears back towards their bedroom and Neil leans his head back against the couch to watch the hallway until he comes back.
When he returns, Andrew has a bottle of lube in his hands. Neil grins. “You know me so well.”
“Unfortunately,” Andrew deadpans. “Why are you still wearing clothes?”
“You’re not gonna take them off me?” Neil questions.
“Your hands aren’t broken,” Andrew answers, setting the lube down and pulling his own shirt off. Neil watches the pale expanse of flesh appear before standing up to pull his bottoms off.
Andrew strips down to his boxers before grabbing the bottle and settling into a seat on the couch. He looks to Neil expectantly and Neil settles in Andrew’s lap, fingers moving automatically to curl in blonde hair.
Neil doesn’t ask any questions, just leans in and kisses Andrew deeply. Andrew kisses him unhurriedly, his hands exploring Neil’s bare body. He presses fingers into the knots of Neil’s back muscles, pushing a little more firmly when Neil groans into his mouth. His fingers move steadily lower, skimming Neil’s waist and lower back before he grabs Neil’s ass.
Neil pulls away from Andrew’s lips to kiss and nip along his jaw. He hears the click of a lid and then Andrew’s hands are back on him, spreading him again. Andrew teases him there too, a cold finger tracing his rim, applying only the slightest pressure until Neil is fidgeting.
Andrew finally presses a finger inside him and Neil settles instantly. He sucks at Andrew’s neck and tries not to complain about the slow pace. He pushes his hips back, seeking more, and Andrew finally takes mercy on him, pushing a second finger in alongside the first.
Neil moans, fingers tightening in curls. “Andrew,” he practically begs.
“One more,” Andrew tells him, kissing his temple, before continuing to open him. The sensation of Andrew’s fingers pressing so deep inside him mixed with the sounds of flesh and lube has him burying his face in Andrew’s neck and whining his want.
It feels like an eternity later that Andrew finally gives him the promised third finger. “Fuck,” is the most eloquent response he can come up with when Andrew finally grazes his prostate. Andrew doesn’t respond, merely continues until he can feel Neil’s thighs beginning to tremble around him. When he slips his fingers out, wiping them on his boxers, Neil takes a moment to catch his breath.
“Jesus, Andrew,” he pants. He can feel the smirk directed his way without seeing it.
Andrew gives him a moment longer. “Up,” he says.
Neil leans back to give him a perplexed look. He’d fully expected to end up riding Andrew. Andrew merely stares back until Neil does as he’s told.
Once Neil’s taken a step back Andrew stands. He pulls Neil into a brief but fierce kiss, before turning him towards the coffee table. It takes Neil a moment to clue in, but when he does he turns back to Andrew, capturing his lips once more. “Yes,” he says, because it feels important to say out loud.
And then it’s his turn to ask. “Yes or no?” He asks Andrew, who merely stares at him for a moment.
“Yes,” he says, nudging Neil, who obediently turns back around and sinks to his knees.
He leans himself across the table, putting himself on display for Andrew. Andrew chucks a small pillow from the couch at him, and Neil tucks it under his cheek, grinning up at Andrew.
Andrew takes his time, setting the lube in easy reaching distance before slowly taking his boxers off. Neil wants him so bad it hurts, but he lets Andrew take the time he needs.
This isn’t a position Andrew particularly likes, but it’s Neil’s favorite. It lets Andrew so much deeper, lets him give Neil so much more. But Neil would never ask for it. Would never do anything to remind Andrew of anything he’s worked hard to heal from.
“Ready?” Andrew asks some time later when he’s finally settled, knees on either side of Neil’s.
“God, yes,” Neil says, wiggling his hips.
Andrew slicks himself up, then stills Neil with hand on his hip. And then he’s pushing in and Neil’s mind is melting.
“Yes, Andrew, fuck,” he groans out. He’s too wound up and sensitive from his earlier orgasm to try and draw this out. Andrew pushes into him in one solid, slow motion until he’s flush against Neil, his chest to Neil’s back. He’s panting heavily against Neil’s neck.
“You can move,” Neil says a few moments later, when he’s adjusted. He flips his hand palm up in offering, and Andrew takes it, lacing their fingers together as he begins to pull back.
He sets a steady pace, betraying his own urgency for an orgasm. They don’t speak after that beyond Neil’s stuttered pleasure, the sounds of flesh colliding filling the room.
Andrew’s pace quickens, thrusts harder and shorter. Neil gets louder, cheek pressed firmly against the pillow. The hand not entwined with Andrew’s clutches the table for dear life. He can’t stop the moans pouring out of his mouth. Andrew’s name is a mantra, a prayer.
“Neil,” Andrew pants, his voice just as wrecked.
“Inside me,” Neil practically begs. Andrew’s hips move somehow faster, barely pulling back before thrusting, like it would cause him pain to be anything less than melded to Neil. He wraps his free arm around Neil’s thigh so he can get a hold of Neil where he’s achingly hard, and dripping with need.
It barely takes two strokes before Neil is coming with what is nearly a howl, and the way he tightens around Andrew has Andrew coming only moments later, mind melting heat burning through him.
They come down to earth slowly, still pressed together, fingers still tightly laced. Andrew can’t help peppering kisses across Neil’s shoulders. Neil murmurs something inaudible from where he’s panting into the pillow, but the way his fingers gently squeeze Andrew’s tells him it's nothing to worry about.
He slowly extricates himself from Neil, standing and groaning at the way his knees ache as the blood flow returns, reminding him of how long he’s been kneeling on the hard ground. Neil finally sits up, looking dazed, before leaning against the couch, letting his head fall back.
“Can you stand?” Andrew asks after a minute. Neil peels open his eyes to see Andrew above him, boxers already back on.
“If I say no?” Neil asks with a cheeky grin.
“Then you can sit there in a puddle of fluids while I go take a shower,” Andrew deadpans. Neil’s lips pout, but he pulls himself to his feet, following Andrew down the hallway. He can’t complain too much because he’s sure there’s a third orgasm waiting for him.
Neither of them had ever dreamed of making it this far, or of having anything or anyone to call home. But as Andrew pushes Neil up against the shower wall to kiss senseless, neither of them can imagine anything else anymore.