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Eden's was packed without being suffocating, and the thumping of the music and the press of the crowd would usually be enough to send Andrew's blood singing and let his bones settle into his body, but tonight the tension wouldn't slip away, and he knew it would be useless to try.
"Okay?" Neil breathes into his ear, hand sliding around his back to settle at the curve of his waist and pulling them flush together. Andrew wishes he found it annoying, but his heart was pounding for entirely different reasons tonight.
Andrew nods, and, when Neil squeezes the flesh of his waist, grinds out, "Yes."
Andrew can see Neil smile out of the corner of his eye before he presses his lips to Andrew's temple and sending him off to pick up their drinks. Andrew goes, disappointed that Neil didn't trail behind him, but he should have expected it.
After all, he broke the rules. He needs to make amends, and Neil will grant him no comforts in the meantime.
Roland makes their drinks after raising his eyebrows at the two sodas ordered, and Andrew considers how the rest of the night might play out as he waits. If Andrew was truly being honest, it was more of a test to see if Neil would follow through than it was an act of defiance. The rule was, the only person who could touch Andrew was Neil, and if Andrew specifically engineered a scenario where Neil walked in on him touching himself just to see what Neil would do, that was his business. He wasn't really sure if Neil had it in him to be so demanding, and he certainly wasn't expecting this.
Neil put the chastity cage on him six days ago, and if Andrew plays his cards right, it could come off tonight.
Roland passes over the tray, and Andrew ignores his comment on being safe, in a display of charity that anyone who knew him would deny him capable of. When Andrew slides onto the stool and puts the drinks on the table to satisfy the hungry masses, Neil's hand lands on his knee. Nicky manages to convince Kevin to follow him and Aaron out the dance floor, and for the first time since before morning practice, he and Neil are blessedly alone.
"You said we would talk about it on Friday," Andrew says after reaching down and shifting Neil's hand so it sits on his thigh instead.
Neil feigns confusion, and Andrew really is going to kill him. "Talk about what?" He asks, dragging his nails lightly up the inseam of Andrew's jeans.
Andrew grits his teeth. Neil has never outright punished him before, never had a reason to, but occasionally he made Andrew say the parts Andrew doesn't want to admit to liking out loud, and he hates it every time. "How I can atone."
Neil clenches his fingers into Andrew's leg. "Oh, that. You know I'm disappointed. You're usually so good with rules," Neil says, and Andrew can hear the unspoken, What happened?
"I wasn't thinking. It won't happen again." The last syllable comes out as a gasp when Neil slides his hand directly over Andrew's zipper before pressing down lightly. The club is dark, and the table is covering everything anyway, but Andrew still feels the potential of being caught sending sparks through his gut.
"No, it won't," Neil murmurs against Andrew's neck before leaning down just enough to fit his teeth over the tendon there and bite down light enough that Andrew wants to push into it. He knows the lilt to Neil's voice right now is dangerous, but he can't find it in him to be anything other than hopelessly aroused. "Because this," Neil grinds the heel of his hand into Andrew's dick again, and it tries its best to harden despite the steel bars wrapped around it, "Is mine. And I'm going to remind you." And then Neil lets go and scoots his stool away.
Andrew inhales deeply in an attempt to get his breathing under control, and he refuses to look in Neil's direction. That way lies madness. When the others return to the table, Andrew gets up to retrieve their second round without acknowledgment. They're all exhausted, which is the assurance Andrew needs that the others will be out like a light when they get home, but he knows it will be a long while before either he or Neil will be going to sleep.
Andrew continues to ignore Neil as they leave, all the way back to the house, although he can feel Neil staring at his profile the whole time. The electricity skittering across his skin is the only thing that stops him from calling him on it.
When they park, Neil says, "I'll lock up. You head upstairs." It's nothing unusual, but Andrew chokes down a dry swallow all the same.
Andrew considers stripping while he waits, but dithers over it long enough that by the time he has the hem of his shirt between his fingers, Neil is quietly shutting the door behind him. Andrew watches him pause, hand still on the door, before he takes a long steadying breath and turning around to face him. Andrew's breath catches when he does. His pupils are blown wide, and his bottom lip is puffy from how he's been biting it. He's looking at Andrew like-
(Andrew was... worried when he first brought this up, that Neil might agree for his sake rather than his own. It's always nice to see that he's enjoying it as much as Andrew is.)
"Take off your clothes," Neil says, breath catching just enough that Andrew can catch the raggedness of it, and he complies with a speed that he would be embarrassed about if the man in front of him was anyone else. He pauses only a moment when he gets to his arms bands last before sliding those off as well.
When Andrew finishes, Neil has his lip between his teeth again. He takes a step forward, and then another, and then their lips are crashing together in a flurry of teeth and tongue and far too much spit before Neil pulls back, Andrew's hands still fisted in his hair. Neil leans in again, and the coarse material of his jeans dragging across Andrew's neglected cock has him hissing into his mouth.
Neil takes a step back, and Andrew does not keen at the loss, no matter what Neil might have to say to the contrary.
Neil is breathing just as hard as Andrew is, and Andrew can see his fingers twitching with the effort it's taking for him to not reach out.
"Here's what's going to happen," Neil says, and Andrew can feel his cock twitch, swears the bars around it are getting tighter. Dangerous, he knows, but he also knows Neil. "I'm going to fuck your face, as repayment for the orgasm that was mine to give you. And then I'm going to fuck you, to remind you what this," He reaches forward grasps Andrew's dick, giving it a rough stroke, "is really for." For a moment, there's ice trickling down Andrew's spine, but it passes as soon as it registers in Andrew's brain. Still Neil catches it, and he releases Andrew's cock and searches his face with a worried pinch between his brows. "Okay?" He asks gently.
Andrew nods, but the pinched look doesn't go away until he says, "Okay." And then he drops to his knees.
Neil cards a hand through Andrew's hair softly, brushing it out of his eyes so he can see him. "Open up, baby," Neil says softly, "And keep those arms behind you," he adds, undoing his jeans while Andrew drops his jaw, ears warming at the name. Neil runs his thumb over Andrew's lip and smiles, the skittish thing that only makes sporadic appearances, before sliding his dick into Andrew's mouth roughly, bottoming out in one smooth stroke.
Andrew lets out a surprised whine as best he can around the intrusion, and Neil groans. the hand on his cheek slides back into his hair and tugs, pulling Andrew's head back to give enough space for Neil to slam in again.
From there, Neil sets a brutal pace, pulling his cock all the way out of Andrew's mouth just to shove back in, and he hits the back of his throat at every thrust. Andrew knows there's drool sliding out his slack jaw, and he can feel his eyes watering, but he can't find it in himself to care. He moans at a particularly sinful thrust, and Neil's hips stutter for a moment. The hands in his hair pull, hard, but whether it's in reprimand or praise, Andrew doesn't know. What he does know is that Neil is close, the in and out drag of his hips speeding up, and the choked off grunts alchemizing to babbling.
"Andrew, baby, being so good for me," Andrew lets out a low whine that has Neil pulling his head all the way onto his dick and holding him there, "Doing so well, like your mouth was made for this, made for me," And this time when Andrew moans, every muscle in Neil's stomach that Andrew's nose is pressed to clenches, hard, and then Neil is spilling down his throat.
Neil pulls out enough to give Andrew space to swallow, and when he's finally spent, pulls out completely and kneels, leaning forward to wrap his arms around Andrew's shoulders, nosing into his neck. Andrew slides his arms out from behind his back and around Neil's waist presses his face into his hair. They've learned through trial and error that after this particular brand of roughness, Andrew needs this, and Neil doesn't exactly mind it either.
After a moment or an eternity, Neil sighs and stands up, taking Andrew with him. "Get on the bed," he says, commanding edge to his voice but oh so gentle. Andrew would do whatever he wants like this.
Oh. Andrew wasn't quite expecting it to be... soft, when he first brought it up, but he can't bring himself to mind. Neil is nothing if not careful, even when bringing about Andrew's ruin. He should have known it would be like this.
When he settles on the bed, Neil is watching him. Andrew can feel his cheeks and neck warming at the attention, but he stops himself from squirming. When they meet eyes, Neil startles before beginning to strip. He's not being artful or doing it any different than he would without an audience, but even so Andrew can feel the futile attempt his cock is making to strain against the bars of the cage.
Neil bends over to reach into the bedside drawer for the lube, and even though Andrew knows he's doing it to be a tease, he can't help but watch the way his ass shifts and flexes when he turns. Andrew flicks his eyes up quickly to Neil's face, and the look he finds there spells out trouble.
Neil climbs up onto the other side of the bed and settles down facing Andrew. His cock makes another effort to harden despite the metal encasing it. Neil notices the twitch and grins before opening the bottle and slicking up his fingers.
"Watch," he says, and then he leans forward and reaches back behind himself.
Andrew fists his hands into the sheets under him to stop himself from reaching out, or grabbing his own cock, or- something, anything, anything at all. After a while, Neil finds his prostate, and Andrew knows he does because he knows the moan he lets out and Andrew wants those fingers to be his.
Neil is watching his face while he fucks himself on his fingers, and Andrew has to screw his eyes shut to give his dick a moment to calm down, because Neil needs to finish this part before the cage can come off and Andrew's dick has yet to get the memo.
A hand pulling his hair has Andrew's eyes flying open.
Neil has stopped and is much closer than he was just a moment ago. "I said to watch," Neil says, punctuating it with another tug of his hair. "Look away again and we'll save this part for tomorrow and go to bed like this." He brings the hand in his hair down to circle Andrew's caged cock, and Andrew lets out a noise that vaguely resembles a gasp when Neil strokes it lightly. "Do you understand?"
"Neil-"
Neil tightens his hand. "I asked you a question." He looks entirely unbothered by Andrew's struggle. It shouldn't be hot.
"Yes," Andrew grinds out through gritted teeth, and Neil smiles.
"Good, baby. I'm almost done." And with that he gets back to it, and Andrew fights for his life to keep his eyes on Neil's face.
The flush high on Neil's cheek bones trails down the column of his neck, and Andrew knows through intense repeated observation that it's one continuous flush all the way across his chest and down to his navel, but Andrew doesn't dare let his gaze drop to follow it. He is unsure if Neil will count that as looking away, and he doesn't want to find out the hard way.
After a lifetime of torture, Neil slips his fingers out and wipes them on the sheet. Andrew's cock tries to jump again at the action. He gets up from the bed, and Andrew is at a loss for a moment before Neil walks over to his discarded clothes and pulls the key from his pocket. He holds it up and asks, "Ready?"
Andrew, swallowing dry, nods before he remembers himself and says, "Yes."
Neil's eyes darken a fraction, and Andrew fights to keep his breath slow and even as Neil settles on top of him and thinks about everything and anything but Neil's hands on his dick up until the moment that they are. Neil takes the cage off slowly, but still it's too much right now and Andrew inhales sharply when it's finally removed and Neil wraps a careful hand around his cock.
Neil leans forward to kiss him, measured and unhurried in the way it always needs to be before this part. Andrew wants so badly to be annoyed by it. Instead, he melts into it, bringing his hands up to thread through Neil's hair. Neil hums and tilts his head, pushing deeper, all while keeping the gentle pressure of his hand on Andrew's cock. He's not sure which one is the distraction.
After a moment, Neil pulls away, turning to grab the lube, and Andrew closes his eyes and breathes. They don't often do it with Neil on top. And Andrew has already given up so much control tonight. For the last few days. But when Andrew opens his eyes, Neil is there. That concerned pinch of his brow is back, and Andrew does not find it endearing in the slightest.
"Hey," Neil says, "We don't have to do this."
Andrew shakes his head. "I want to." He does, and it doesn't catch him by surprise quite as often as it used to.
The pinch doesn't smooth back out. "We can do it differently."
Andrew shakes his head again, grabbing the wrist of Neil's dry hand and tugging. "I want to," He repeats, and Neil settles back down on top of Andrew's thighs.
"Okay," he says breathlessly into the space between them. "Okay," he says again, and then he wraps a slick hand around Andrew's cock.
Andrew gasps, loudly, and fists his hands into the sheets in an effort to stop himself from bucking into the sensation. He knows Neil is laughing at him, but he can't bring himself to care about it. With his other hand, Neil grabs one of Andrew's arms, tugging it up and over his head, glancing at Andrew's other arm before flicking his eyes to Andrew's face, and Andrew complies and lifts it up too. He has to scoot down to recline back, but once he does, Neil presses his crossed wrists into the pillows.
Neil leans down to slide his lips across the sensitive skin behind Andrew's ear, and murmurs, "Keep those there," punctuating it with a nip to his neck. Andrew is far enough gone that he doesn't even register how loud his answering noise is until Neil lets out a low chuckle.
Neil lets go of Andrew's wrists and sits back up, wiping his hand off on the same sheet as he did earlier. He better be the one changing the bedding later. "Ready?"
"Neil." Usually, that's enough, but today it has Neil leaning forward and gripping Andrew's hair, tugging sharply. Andrew lets out a low groan that is probably not the intended effect, but Neil gives his hair another yank.
"This is the second time I've had to repeat a question. Make me do it again and we're done for the night."
The sharp look that Neil has pinned him with makes Andrew want to squirm again, but he forces himself to stay still and through gritted teeth, says, "Yes."
Neil tugs on his hair again before releasing him and shuffling up on his knees and lining his hips up with Andrew's. He reaches back to hold Andrew's cock steady and turns forward again to meet his eyes. "Don't come. Not until I let you." And then he sinks down in one steady move.
Andrew turns his face into his still outstretched arm to muffle the moan that tears out of his throat, everything too much all at once after days of absolutely nothing. Neil raises up again, slow, the slick hot drag of it peeling Andrew inside out, before slamming back down. The grunt he lets out at the motion is supremely unattractive, but Andrew stains to hear it over his own noises nonetheless.
Andrew is losing it, knows he's going to unravel before Neil is done, does everything he can to think about anything other than Neil's tight heat around him, the relentless motion of his hips, and is almost successful until Neil starts talking.
"Andrew, baby, so glad you're mine," Andrew moans, high pitched a breathy, "Always feel so perfect, being so good." Neil keeps talking and Andrew rapidly oscillates between struggling to hear it over his own whines and desperately trying to tune it out. He can't come. He can't come. Not until Neil says it's okay, and that doesn't look like that's happening soon.
Neil slows and stops, grinding down hard and rotating his hips and Andrew groans.
"Neil." Andrew doesn't have it in him to beg any farther than his name, but Neil understands what he means anyway.
"Just a little bit longer, love. You're doing so well," Andrew doesn't know what response he could possibly have to that other than moaning again and listen to Neil's low whine when he circles his hips.
Almost. Neil said almost. But not yet. Andrew clenches his fists into the pillows, and they'll both be lucky if he doesn't tear them in his last resort effort at maintaining his composure.
Because of how hard Andrew is pressing his face into his arm, it takes him a bit to notice the fingers ghosting across the side of his face and sliding into his hair. "Andrew," Neil says, softly, far softer than Andrew ever thought he would deserve, much less be on the receiving end of, "Look at me."
It's a sure-fire way to lose what little control Andrew has left, but he's so far into the deep end that it doesn't occur to him to do anything other than obey the orders Neil gives him.
His hair is a mess, a lose curl plastered to his forehead, and his eyes are blown wide and dark, made more so by the flush that has engulfed his face and shoulders, and Andrew doesn't think he'll ever be able to look away. He leans forward presses his lips to Andrew's slack mouth, and Andrew musters up the energy to kiss him back for a moment before Neil pulls away and reaches up to press his hands into Andrew's wrists again.
Neil drops his head back down to nose a line up Andrew's neck, trailing lips and tongue with it, and when he reaches his ear, whispers, "Come."
Andrew does, shuddering, every bone in his body locking up as the built-up pleasure rushes through him, muscles spasming hard enough that he's concerned he might buck Neil off of him, but Neil clamps down on his cock and grinds his hips against Andrew's, the only thing keeping Andrew on the bed.
Neil works him through it, the shallow roll of his hips slowing to a stop when Andrew starts gasping at the overstimulation. He pulls of slowly before lowering himself down onto the bed next to Andrew, and Andrew rolls over to bury his face into his chest. It rumbles when Neil chuckles, but Andrew ignores it in favor of bringing his arm down around his waist.
"Do you..." Andrew tries to ask, because his dick is still pressing hard against his hip, but Neil shakes his head and presses his lips to the top of Andrew's head, and Andrew lets it go.
Neil brushes his fingers through his hair, and Andrew lets himself float for just a bit longer. Soon, Neil will have to get up to change the sheets, and they'll have to shower, and Neil will go downstairs to scavenge for whatever food they left here last week. Andrew knows he's going to start feeling sticky and closed in once everything fades, but for now there's Neil wrapped around him, and he can't imagine being anywhere else.