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When Andrew ambled into the living room, having just woken up from his nap, Neil gave him a small, soft smile in greeting that Andrew didn't bother to respond to. Neil didn't take it personally: Andrew was fine waking up from a night's sleep, but he always struggled waking from a nap. Usually he woke up in a crankier mood than when he passed out in the first place. Neil didn't know why, but he had gotten used to it either way.
Today, Andrew came in with an active frown, which was pretty common, that deepened when he saw Neil, which was not. Neil frowned back at him.
"What's up?" He asked curiously, picking up the next shirt to fold from the basket of clean laundry. Neil hated doing it, but Andrew insisted real people folded their laundry. Even Kevin folded his clothes loosely. If he could do it, so could Neil.
Andrew screwed up his face. "What are you wearing?" He demanded. His grouchy question lost some of its power by the fact that he was rubbing his eyes with fists. He continued walking toward Neil.
Neil looked down at himself and shrugged. He was wearing one of his old, way-too-big shirts from before Andrew started overhauling his wardrobe. Between being vice captain and a boyfriend, he'd been slacking in doing laundry and didn't have any other clean clothes to wear.
Andrew scowled at the shirt like it had offended him personally. "I hate that shirt," he grumbled as he walked closer, and Neil laughed lightly. "I thought I threw them all away," Andrew added once he was close enough to kiss, his hands on Neil's chest as he tugged, irritated, at the raggedy collar of the shirt.
"Well, you're in luck," Neil responded. "I've got clean clothes again, so if you want to toss this one, you can once I'm—"
Accompanying a single movement Neil never saw coming, the sound of ripping fabric interrupted Neil's placating promise as Andrew tore the shirt apart right down his chest. Neil froze and blinked. He looked at his shirt, now just hanging off his arms like an open vest, and then at Andrew, who didn't look flushed or winded in the slightest, but did look more awake. Andrew hummed and ran a hand down Neil's exposed chest and over the faint definition in his abdomen.
"This is much better," he mused.
Neil felt breathless. His gut clenched and he swallowed dryly. "Andr—"
"I need coffee," Andrew grumbled. "Throw that in the trash before I'm done or I'll strangle you with it."
And then he left, with Neil's eyes following him, a hunger in his jaw and stomach awake and desperate that Neil knew was not welcome at the time. He swallowed it down and stared at the tattered remains of his shirt, unable to believe Andrew had ripped it so casually all the way through without even being flushed.
Neil couldn't keep the moment from his brain. Over the next week or two, it was all he could think about. He'd always loved the strength of Andrew's body and character, had always admired the way Andrew could support him, could bear his weight, could swing his racquet hard enough to protect him. But now he found himself looking in a different light, and it was distracting.
At first, it was was in the obvious moments, like on weight training days, when he got distracted watching Andrew bench pressing some serious weight. Andrew grunted lightly as the weight sank, the bar lightly touching his chest, and then rose, slow and controlled, with Matt hovering behind Andrew, hands ready to spot him if needed. Andrew didn't need it. Neil watched his arms and chest long enough that Kevin snapped his fingers in front of Neil's face, impatient and annoyed. Neil focused again and shook his head like a dog. God.
But it was in other moments, too. Neil came with Andrew to watch him spar with Renee and was amazed how hard Andrew worked to get ahead. Renee still won a little more often than she lost, but Andrew at one point had her pinned no matter how she fought his hold, and Neil couldn't stop himself from licking his lips as he watched Andrew's arms bulge and flex as he restrained her until she gave in and tapped out. He dropped his arms and stepped away from her, shaking himself from the way their bodies had been pressed together, and Renee grinned at him viciously, like she would make sure he paid for that. (She did. Neil didn't even notice, though, not really, because Andrew was straining to pull her legs from around his torso and god.)
And even when Andrew wasn't trying to do anything, Neil noticed it! When Andrew opened a jar he couldn't get. When he made a particularly incredible save, hitting the ball so far across the court Neil just stopped and watched it fly. When he changed a tire — Neil didn't even know Andrew did it himself until he just…did it —and he pulled it off the car so effortlessly.
And it wasn't like the rest of his body wasn't strong. He was solid — Andrew would never be the athlete who skipped leg day and gave himself the body of a triangle — and Neil found himself tracking the way Andrew's leg muscles moved as he casually squatted more weight than Neil's P.R. He mopped sweat from his face as Andrew gave a strained sigh as he completed his Russian twists, his crunches, his lunges.
When Andrew straddled Neil's lap and his breath heaved as he stroked their cocks together while Neil held on for dear life, Andrew's legs tightened around Neil's and it made his cock throb. When Andrew let Neil grind on top of him, hands behind his back or braced on Andrew's knees, Andrew's hands on Neil's hips guided his body like he weighed nothing. When Andrew braced an arm across Neil's hips, stilling his body as he swallowed Neil down, it was all Neil could do to keep from sinking to the floor as his legs gave out. When Andrew fucked him on his back in bed, Neil would watch his core tense and flex as he curved his body into him, filling him and making his lashes flutter.
As with many things, a Fox movie night was what really sent Neil spiraling about his newfound obsession. Most of the Foxes movie picks didn't have sex scenes, or if they did, they were quick or uninteresting enough for Neil to not think about them much. But this one was a Kevin pick, a sports romance movie because they'd banned him from picking historical setting movies since he would annoyingly correct inaccuracies, and it featured two athletes who couldn't stop finding themselves put together despite their constantly butting heads with one another. At some point the tension — so thick that Neil had picked up enough of the patterns that indicated they were interested in each other — broke, and one of them pushed the other against the door to furiously make out.
Neil didn't move his body, lest anyone look over and spot his interest, but he started watching more earnestly. The woman pressed against the wall whimpered and wrapped her hands around the one doing the pressing's body, fingers tangling in her hair, and generally exploring her over her clothes in a way that Neil knew Andrew wouldn't appreciate unless it was a rock-solidly good day, but Neil still wondered. And when the taller woman — the one who was pushing — put her thigh between the shorter one's legs, the shorter one gasped and let her head fall back against the door, and then the taller one gathered her hands up over her head and held them there.
Andrew had done something like that a time or two. Okay, way more than two. Neil had always liked it, had always been willing and eager to show Andrew he wouldn't touch, would do what Andrew asked of him even without using his words. But in this case, the woman against the wall wasn't just keeping her hands there — the taller woman was holding them there, pinning her that way.
The scene didn't last long, but it stayed playing in Neil's mind the rest of the night. He couldn't participate in the talk about it later, since he didn't know how it ended.
Neil had always appreciated Andrew's body, yes. But he'd never seen it exist in a non-sexual context and connected it to a sexual fantasy via his imagination. When he put two and two together and realized that Andrew was easily benching well over his body weight, though, Neil bit his lip so hard he drew blood. When Andrew comfortably bodied Kevin out of his way as they argued in the locker room, pushing him until he stumbled back and fell against a locker, Neil didn't bother telling them to stop because he was too busy realizing that Kevin was significantly heavier than him.
And then Neil started noticing other things, like how Matt could pick Dan up with a single arm and twirl her around with her feet off the ground just to make her laugh. Or even Aaron, lifting Katelyn up as they hugged and — nauseatingly, but only because it was Aaron — Katelyn wrapping her legs around Aaron's waist and Aaron laughing as he hoisted her up more comfortably. He wondered if Andrew could — no, he knew he could. He wondered if Andrew would be interested in…manhandling him like that.
The next time Andrew leaned into Neil's space, Neil's breath caught and he nodded his desire to be touched and kissed, and Andrew pressed his back hard enough into the couch that he groaned into Andrew's mouth, fingers tightening over his shoulders. Andrew huffed against his lips.
"Needy," he teased, and Neil's hips shifted.
"Stay still," Andrew admonished, pushing his hips down hard before leaning back in to kiss him again. When Neil stopped breathing, Andrew paused and leaned back. "Good?" Neil nodded. He was so good. But it wasn't enough for Andrew. "Neil," he demanded. "Yes or no?"
"Yes," Neil gritted out. "Yes, Andrew, I'm good, I promise."
Andrew glared and moved a hand to Neil's throat, thumb over his pulse. Neil fought not to groan at the suggestion of Andrew gripping his neck. Andrew's touch was firm — searching, not rough — and once he felt Neil's heartbeat, he scoffed and moved away, sitting back on his ass on the cushion next to Neil. He leaned on the back of the couch, hand still on Neil's neck as he stared at him. "What's going on," he asked in a way that was not a mere question, but a demand.
"I'm fine," he began, and rolled his eyes when Andrew's thumb tightened threateningly around his Adam's apple, like he really would choke Neil. Neil knew he wouldn't. "I am," he insisted.
Andrew tapped his cheek, then, and Neil frowned. "You don't blush," Andrew accused. "Why are you blushing?" Neil didn't know, so he just shrugged. He watched Andrew visibly grow frustrated. "I'm not a mind-reader, Neil," he warned. "What are you thinking about."
Neil knew Andrew's patience was finite when he was concerned, no matter how he liked to pretend otherwise. He took a breath. "I just liked when you…pushed me," he confessed.
Andrew raised a brow, and Neil felt the heat on his cheeks, this time. "When I pushed you," he repeated.
"Yeah. It's — I like how strong you are," Neil answered, feeling a little stupid, because wasn't that obvious? Andrew stared at him blankly, waiting for more, and Neil eventually confessed the rest of it. "I've been thinking about it lately. It's been…distracting." He looked away, wondering if this was how people felt all the time around their person. It was horrendous.
"Distracting," Andrew echoed, and smirked. Neil wondered if he liked Neil's newfound interest, or not. "What about it is distracting? Don't tell me you've started swinging," he teased.
"It's not like I'm just now realizing you're attractive," Neil answered, which seemed to throw Andrew for a loop. "I'm just…finally realizing that your muscles are good outside of Exy and, like, emotionally."
Andrew's eyebrow twitched. "My muscles are good for you emotionally?" He said it like he was teasing, but Neil saw the incredulity in his eyes, the way he was baffled by the fact that he didn't understand what Neil was saying. Andrew's gaze dropped to his thighs for a long moment before he looked back up at Neil with a little less confusion, like maybe he thought he understood.
Neil sighed, because Andrew definitely didn't understand. "I always liked how strong you are because I — feel safe," he confessed. He was sure Andrew knew it, but he'd also never said the words. He thought maybe that had been a mistake. Maybe Andrew had needed to hear it, after all. "I know I can let go, and still — and you'll take care of me. Of everything."
Andrew dropped the hand from Neil's shoulder. "Stop saying bullshit," Andrew spat impatiently, finally irritated.
"I'm not," Neil argued, and reached for Andrew's hand, pausing before he touched him, letting Andrew decide. Andrew rolled his eyes but flipped his hand over to give it to Neil. "You trust that I'll stop when you tell me to, right? Well, I trust that you'll keep me safe."
"And this is related to sex how?" Andrew challenged.
But Neil didn't know how to explain it, and he squeezed Andrew's hand for just a moment. "I don't know," he admitted. "I don't get it, either. But your — body is…you know. I like it," he answered uselessly. For once, he wished he could understand this stuff better.
After staring at him for a long time, Andrew stood and walked away, out of the living room and to the bedroom. Neil didn't follow, but he did notice the bulge in Andrew's pants as he stood.
Andrew didn't say anything about it, so Neil followed his lead. He was allowed to not want something Neil did, and Neil was allowed to want something he didn't. There was nothing wrong with that.
There was maybe a two week period where they didn't get each other off, but everything else was there — the touches, the kisses, the company, the conversation, the trust. It was enough, and Neil was happy to wait as long as Andrew needed.
Finally, Andrew picked Neil up from class in the Mas and announced, "We need to talk about this. I'm not considering anything until I know exactly what you're thinking of."
Neil blinked. "Okay," he said gamely. "I don't exactly have a…scenario, or anything. I just like the idea of you, you know, showing off how strong you are."
Andrew scoffed. "I'm assuming you don't mean in the weight room," he said dryly, making Neil roll his eyes. "Come on, Neil, 'fess up."
Neil shrugged but suggested, "Pushing me against a wall? Or…pinning my arms over my head? It's not like I need to be trapped, or anything. I'm not looking for you to throw me across a room. Just — just you, you know…being strong."
Andrew was silent long enough for Neil to start to fidget and finally Neil bit his lip. "Drew," he said softly, and Andrew's eyes flicked over to his for a moment before they returned to the street. They were still on campus, and students walked into the streets without looking constantly. Andrew hated driving on campus for this exact reason.
"What?"
Neil reached out and Andrew lifted the heel of his hand off the gearshift so Neil could slide his hand underneath it and push his fingers between Andrew's. "If you're not into it, that's fine. It's not something I need. It's just…new."
Andrew made a noise of acknowledgment. "I won't just walk into something blind, Neil," he responded.
Neil knew what he was saying before he turned those hazel eyes on him again. I don't know if I can give you what you want if you don't tell me. He squeezed Andrew's hand as he cast about for inspiration. "Remember that movie, with the lesbian basketball players?"
"They were soccer players, Neil."
"Whatever," Neil shook his head as the irrelevant details passed in one ear and out the other. "Remember that scene? Where they were up against the wall?"
Andrew was quiet a moment, and if it were anyone else Neil might think he was trying to remember, but he knew he did. Neil looked over at him and saw Andrew staring at the road, though his mind was elsewhere. Probably re-watching the scene in his head. "I remember," he said finally, voice betraying nothing.
"That's what sort of started thi— actually, no, it was when you ripped my shirt!" He remembered suddenly.
Andrew's brows furrowed. "Ripping your ugly shirt was sexy to you?"
"It's not like I cared about the shirt," he reasoned. "But yes, you just — you didn't even strain; you just… You just ripped it, just like that!" He snapped his fingers.
Andrew scoffed. "It was old and thin and about to disintegrate, Neil," he excused.
"Doesn't matter," Neil insisted. "It was — I liked it, okay?"
"Sure," Andrew shrugged. They drove in silence as he finally got to the interstate, and then Andrew surmised, "So you're not looking for…dominance, necessarily."
"Not really, I guess," Neil shrugged. "I mean, you're pretty much always in control anyway, and I like that." Andrew's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. "I don't know why it's…good, I guess, that you're so strong. I just know I like it, and that the emotional aspect of it is that you're strong enough to make me feel safe. Protected. Whatever," he added, feeling vulnerable.
"Not whatever," Andrew scoffed. "That is not a whatever statement, you fucking junkie."
"Well, I don't know!" Neil burst, frustrated. "You're asking me to tell you why I like it but I only just realized I like it; I don't get why!"
"You just think it's hot, Neil," Andrew answered. "That's it. You think it's hot. My arms turn you on, or something. It's fine, it's normal."
"It's silly," Neil argued, but Andrew rolled his eyes.
"I feel the same way about your legs," he offered, and that pulled Neil up short.
"What?"
"Yes, Neil," Andrew replied, exasperated. "Your legs are hot. I like your thighs. I like your ass. I like watching you run, and I like when you wear those stupid shorts you insist are better to run in—"
"They don't ride up!"
"— and I like that you had no idea until now, so you were never stretching in front of me to tease me," Andrew continued, blowing Neil's mind. He glanced over at Neil and smirked. "You were just an idiot who doesn't realize he's hot."
Neil had no idea what to say. "You…get turned on by my shorts?"
"You in the shorts, Neil; I'm not fantasizing about fabric."
"Oh." Neil furrowed his brows, trying to figure out what was so hot about his legs in the shorts. He was actually wearing them now, and he looked down at his lap and shifted his leg this way and that curiously.
"Stop it," Andrew told him, and Neil raised his eyes back to his face. "It's all objective," he grumbled in response to Neil's puzzled expression.
"Okay," Neil answered, because he still really didn't get it, and Andrew huffed a small laugh and shook his head. Neil let his gaze drift over Andrew, over the face he loved so much, and then down his throat, and onto his shoulders. Neil bit his lip, because Andrew's shirt was just a band t-shirt, nothing spectacular, but it was fitted like all of his tops, since Andrew didn't like loose fabric. Neil watched his shoulders and upper arms shift as he drove, and breathed, and just…existed.
"Staring," Andrew murmured without taking his eyes off the road.
"Yeah," Neil breathed, taking him in. Andrew did look, then, and Neil snapped his gaze back up to his face.
Andrew took in Neil's expression and an eyebrow twitched, either in surprise or amusement. "Surprised you haven't had a stroke any time I wear tank tops," he muttered dryly.
Neil didn't tell him he almost did every time. He also didn't tell him he was half-hard just from looking at him. Now that he wasn't so busy trying to figure out the why, he was able to just experience it. And he was definitely experiencing it. Andrew was…so strong.
They drove on.
Neil pressed his thighs together and gritted his teeth as he lowered his body between the bars he was braced on, chest burning as he continued his workout.
"Five more," Kevin told him. "Slow down. Controlled. It burns more that way."
Neil wanted to kick him, but he kept his mouth shut. Directly in front of him, Andrew was standing, doing lateral raises with 30-pound dumbbells. Ostensibly, he was facing the other wall of mirrors in the weight room, but Neil knew he was facing this way to watch Neil watch him. His shoulders rotated beneath his skin as his lips pressed into a firm line with each raise.
"Neil, focus," Kevin snapped, and Neil groaned and continued.
Kevin complained the entire way back to the dorms that Neil had been unfocused and annoying, and Neil tuned him out the entire time. Instead, he turned so his back was against the door and, with sunglasses over his eyes, ogled the sweat gleaming on Andrew's shoulders and arms, the damp spots on his black tank top from perspiration since Andrew hadn't showered at the locker room, preferring to take his time at home when he could.
As soon as they got to their floor, Andrew interrupted Kevin's bitching and said, "Kevin, go hang out with Aaron and Nicky." Neil whirled around to look at Andrew in surprise.
"What?!" Kevin complained, as Nicky snorted and Aaron groaned in disgust. "At least let me get my laptop," he begged. "Nicky watches stupid stuff and Aaron's just going to study. Come on, Andrew!"
"You have thirty seconds," Andrew said, looking back at Neil as he did. "And shut up, Aaron."
"You could make it a little less obvious," Aaron grumbled.
"Bee is going to be so proud of me when I tell her what I didn't say to that next Wednesday," Andrew replied, and Aaron scoffed and continued walking down the hall to his own room, too irritated to wait for Kevin or Nicky.
"You two kids have fun," Nicky sang, "be safe, use—"
"I still carry knives, Nicky," Andrew said, lips twitching as Neil bit his lip.
Kevin came out just as Nicky shut his mouth, laptop case and backpack over his shoulder as he grumbled about being sexiled and how ridiculous they were being. They waited in silence, staring at each other, until Kevin slammed Aaron and Nicky's door behind him, and then Andrew asked, "Yes or no?"
"Yes," Neil breathed.
Andrew's huff of amusement made Neil bite his lip again. "You don't even know what I'm offering," he responded.
"Doesn't matter," Neil insisted, taking a step toward Andrew. He looked over Andrew's shoulders and arms, then over the damp spots of where Andrew's stomach creased and sweat gathered most, as well as the line between his pecs. He amended, "Whatever it is, though…would you be open to taking your shirt off?"
Andrew glared. "Get inside, Neil," he said, pointing to the door, still wide open.
Neil laughed but moved quickly to do as he was asked. Andrew followed him closely and he grabbed Neil by the back of his shirt, shut the door, and pulled until Neil stumbled back against it. Neil hit the door and gasped, but Andrew soon followed and pressed his body against Neil's and he groaned, "Yes, Andrew."
Andrew's lips curved and he put his hands on Neil's chest, pressing him hard against the door. The wood was cold against the parts of Neil's skin not covered by his clothes, but Andrew's warmth was far more distracting as he gripped Neil's jaw and kissed him hard. Neil whined into his mouth and his hands moved to Andrew's hair, running fingers desperately through the sweaty strands.
It seemed to pull Andrew out of it for a moment, because he moved away and said, "I should go shower first."
"Wait," Neil blurted, eyes wide, fingers scratching lightly at Andrew's scalp. "Um. You don't…have to," he finally got out, cheeks heating as he forced his eyes to remain on Andrew's face.
Andrew raised a brow. "I'm very sweaty, Neil," he intoned. As if Neil didn't know. As if he hadn't felt Neil's hungry gaze the whole way here.
"Yeah," he agreed, and bit his lip.
Andrew looked in his eyes and shook his head in amusement. "No one would ever believe me," he murmured to himself.
"If you need a minute, or if you just want to be clean, then — of course," Neil offered. "But, um…I don't mind. At all."
Andrew snorted. "How benevolent of you," he teased, and leaned back in. He kissed Neil, and licked his top lip as he pulled away again. "What if I wanted your mouth?" He challenged. "You really want to suck my cock like this?"
"I would," Neil groaned instantly. "I mean — yes, it'd be a yes. I swear."
Andrew groaned and then laughed, but he put a hand in Neil's hair and pulled his face down so he could press their foreheads together as he shook his head back and forth. "You're so stupid," he breathed, and his other hand drifted down Neil's body, over his abs and to the waistband of his shorts.
Neil bit his lip and closed his eyes, breathing, "Yes," as Andrew slid a palm under his shorts and boxers. They both groaned as Andrew's dry palm wrapped around his cock and he began stroking him, not even pulling him out from his clothes first. "Andrew," Neil breathed. "Andrew, can — will you…"
Andrew paused, and Neil blinked open his eyes and met Andrew's hazel ones. He bit his lip and glanced at Andrew's shirt, not wanting to ask for more than what Andrew was offering, but Andrew asked, "Seriously?" Neil shrugged sheepishly, and Andrew snorted and pulled his hand from Neil's cock to yank off his shirt.
"Better?" He asked as soon as he pulled it over his head, but Neil was already groaning his appreciation as he took in Andrew's thick body, the muscle under the softness of his fat, the golden-blond hair that covered most of his pecs, grew in darker around his areolas, and converged thickly down the crease between his pecs and abdominal muscles, over his belly. Neil loved the way it got darker and thicker the lower it grew, and though Andrew didn't do much grooming of his pubic hair other than whatever he put on it to make it soft and smell extra nice, Neil loved how it looked.
"God, yes," Neil answered, and he groaned again when Andrew put his hand back under his bottoms to rub at his cock once more. "Where can I touch you?"
Andrew hummed, put his free hand on Neil's sternum to push him firmly against the door, and answered over Neil's hitching breath, "Above the belt, for now."
"Fuck," Neil swore, and ran his hands all over Andrew's sweaty body, mostly grabbing at his shoulders, and his biceps, but more than once he shamelessly groped at Andrew's pecs and groaned as Andrew's muscles flexed under his hands.
Andrew leaned in and kissed him hard, and Neil wrapped his arms tight around Andrew's shoulders to hold him close, even if it restricted how much movement Andrew could give his cock. Neil shuddered and groaned against Andrew's tongue as Andrew crowded him in, feeling so much taller than Neil even though he was a few inches shorter. Neil kissed down Andrew's neck, letting his tongue trace the bumps and swells of the muscles in it as Andrew shivered and sighed.
Andrew shifted even closer and Neil's head hit the door hard as he felt Andrew's hard cock against his thigh. "Oh my god, Andrew," Neil breathed. His hips tried to roll, but Andrew held him hard against the door, his body pinned. "Fuck," he whispered.
All too soon, Andrew pulled back. Neil was devastated but tried to school his face to neutrality, only to have Andrew snort. "Get your clothes off, Neil," he said, and while Neil scrambled to comply, Andrew dug around in his gym bag he'd dropped, next to Neil's, next to the door. He pulled out lube and a condom, and Neil's knees felt weak.
Andrew pulled down his own shorts, standing in nothing but the tight briefs he always wore that Neil loved sucking wet spots into any time Andrew would let him. Neil stared at Andrew's cock, hard and leaking its own wet spot into the black fabric, before Andrew tossed both items to the floor by his feet, shoved him against the door, and said, "Be still," and sank to his knees.
Neil moaned embarrassingly loud as soon as he felt Andrew's breath against his erection, and Andrew tsk'd at him while he wrapped his hand around the base of Neil's cock. "So easy," Andrew threw in his direction. He meant it to be a tease, Neil was sure of it, but he seemed far too satisfied for it to be mocking enough.
Andrew sucked cock like it was a competition, like it was a profession, like it was a particularly interesting puzzle to solve. He attacked it with vigor and he wasn't gentle, but he never hurt Neil. He swallowed Neil down easily, and then he'd pull off and give him licks along his shaft, squeeze at his balls, suck softly at the head of his cock until Neil was sure he'd lose it, only for Andrew to take him to the back of his throat all over again, nose to Neil's groin, eyes closed like he enjoyed it. Andrew didn't make blowjobs last, usually, which was great because Neil never could. Not against a mouth as good as Andrew's.
Neil jumped when he felt a cold and wet finger brushing against his hole with no warning. He gasped and opened his eyes — he hadn't even remembered closing them, somehow — and met Andrew's inquisitive gaze. "Yes," he all but begged. "Yes, I want it, I n—"
Andrew pulled off his cock and smeared lube against Neil's ass. Neil almost wanted to complain about the loss, but it felt so good when Andrew touched him. They didn't do this very often — there was so much prep work beforehand, typically, and it was kind of a pain to do it unless they were alone for a whole night — and Neil was honestly a little surprised Andrew was down to do it without more warning, but he certainly wasn't going to complain.
Andrew grabbed the condom and lube and stood, passing Neil the lube to hold as he pushed off his underwear then unwrapped and pulled on the condom. The tendons in his neck stood out as he strained to keep quiet during, and Neil sympathized because his own cock was aching, and Andrew hadn't had anything yet.
Neil leaned forward only to be pushed back with a hand to his chest. It stole his breath and he bit his lip to hide the grin that spread from the arousal of Andrew giving him this. Andrew saw it, of course, and rolled his eyes as he leaned forward and gave Neil the kiss he'd been seeking earlier. Andrew smeared lube onto the condom and then pulled one of Neil's legs up, hooking the underside of his knee into the crook of his elbow.
"Stay still," Andrew told him, and Neil nodded and pressed himself against the door. Andrew pushed the leg he had a hold of to the side, spreading Neil open a bit, and then guided his cock to Neil's hole. "Yes?" He checked again.
Neil opened his eyes and smiled, nodding eagerly. "Yes, Drew, it's yes," he swore, and then cut himself off with a whimper when Andrew began pushing his hips, and so his cock, into Neil. About halfway in, Neil hissed as the slide lost some of its slickness, and Andrew paused and then pulled out and squeezed the last of the packet of lube onto his condom before Neil could even tell him what the problem was. He pressed a sweet, quick kiss to Neil's nose, a little thank you, maybe even a good job acknowledgment, and then continued to press in.
It was so good.
Neil groaned, let his head fall back, and wrapped his arms around Andrew's shoulders lazily.
"Good?" Andrew asked from where he'd pressed his face against Neil's neck, and Neil groaned and nodded.
"Yeah," he answered. "You?"
"Good," Andrew answered, and then, "hold on tight."
Neil made an inquisitive noise but flailed and adjusted his grip on Andrew's shoulders as Andrew suddenly squatted down, hooked his other arm around the underside of Neil's other leg, and stood with a grunt, sliding Neil's sweaty back against the door.
"Oh my god!" Neil all but shouted, nails digging into Andrew's shoulders. Andrew hissed and Neil shifted his hands. "Fuck, sorry," he groaned, rubbing gently over the indentations of Andrew's skin that his fingernails had left behind.
Once Andrew was satisfied with Neil's security up against the wall, he took a breath and rolled his hips in. He had to pause and mutter, "Hold tight again." Neil tightened his legs around Andrew's biceps and his arms around Andrew's shoulders, and Andrew dropped his right hand to help guide his cock in deeper again, filling Neil all the way up like his body was made exactly for Andrew's.
"Oh my god. Shit. Drew." Neil's voice was hoarse and he just felt so. Fucking. Good. Andrew brought his arm back under Neil's leg to support him again and Neil groaned as he realized Andrew really was holding him up against a wall to fuck him.
Andrew laughed wildly and leaned forward until he pressed his forehead against Neil's chest. He pushed into Neil's space, making it just a little harder for him to breathe with the pressure. Neil groaned and hugged him impossibly tighter.
"Do you like it?" Neil asked. "Does it — do I feel good for you like this?"
Andrew let out a strangled groan and pulled his head up to meet Neil's eyes. "I should be asking you that," he said instead of answering.
It was like the non-question unlocked something inside of Neil, because he suddenly couldn't shut up. "It feels so good, Andrew. You feel so g— I feel so full. You're so strong, oh my god."
Andrew's gaze darkened and hardened, and Neil knew he was about to get fucked. Andrew clenched his jaw and pulled out partially, let Neil groan about it, and pushed back in with enough force to jolt Neil against the door and punch out a stupid-sounding, "Unh!" from his gut.
Andrew did it again. And again, and again. Neil felt like he was losing his mind before Andrew groaned and shifted once more and hit his prostate just right, just enough to make Neil seize up and shout, "Shit! Fuck! Drew, again!"
Andrew growled what sounded an awful lot like a feral version of, "Fuck, junkie," and wrapped his hands over Neil's hipbones to hold him even tighter.
Neil felt tears sting at his eyes and he put one hand on the door just so he didn't claw Andrew's back up too hard. "Oh god, Drew, it's so good. It's too good, I'm — it's —"
A strangled cry of disappointment escaped Neil's mouth when Andrew pulled back just a bit too far and slipped out of Neil completely. "No!" He whined, wrapping both arms around his shoulders again, clutching him tight. Andrew laughed, then groaned, and kissed Neil's sweaty neck before he let go of Neil's leg to guide his cock back in.
He slowly pushed back in, both of them groaning as Neil felt himself filled up like he could get it up into his throat. He let his head fall back against the door and sighed, low and satisfied.
"Fuck," Andrew grunted.
Neil just breathed, "Yeah."
Andrew bit at Neil's neck gently, a little reprimand for his foolishness, and then he started fucking into him slowly, picking up speed as Neil encouraged him and moaned out his pleasure.
"Andrew, I'm — I need —"
Andrew suddenly gripped Neil's hips and pulled him down until his ass was completely off the door and solely supported by Andrew's hands. His back made a squealing sound as he slid down and Andrew pistoned his hips faster and harder.
"Yes!" Neil cried out as the new angle had Andrew fucking his prostate every single thrust. "I'm close, Drew, oh god, oh fuck, oh— harder!"
Andrew grunted and fucked him harder, and Neil wanted to scream. He snaked a hand between their bodies and desperately stroked his cock, knowing he was close and just needed that little bit more to push himself over —
"Come on, Neil," Andrew nearly whispered, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to say it aloud where Neil could hear it. "Come for me. Show me how much you like this."
And that was it. Neil gasped as he came, heat rolling through his belly as he gave Andrew what he wanted to see. Andrew followed so closely behind, his sworn, "Shit!" making Neil shudder.
Andrew buried himself in Neil and stilled. Neil groaned and fought not to go limp, pressing his arms against the door to push himself up toward Andrew.
Andrew sighed and extricated his arms from under Neil's legs, then bent over to wrap his arms around his back. He heaved himself upright and pulled Neil upwards, shifting his hips to separate themselves with a groan. Neil lamented the loss of feeling full, but he knew Andrew needed that separation after sex.
He was surprised, then, when Andrew carried him to the bedroom first. Neil hummed and curled his body over Andrew's on the way there, pressing gentle kisses across the top of his shoulder.
As Andrew let his body down onto the bed, he asked, "Good?"
"So good," Neil replied, grinning and feeling exhausted and sex-drunk as he slurred his answer up at Andrew, who braced himself above Neil with a hand planted next to either side of his head on the mattress. Andrew didn't smile, but his eyes did, and Neil loved him, loved him, loved him. He loved him so much.
Thankfully, Neil kept his mouth shut on that front and hummed appreciatively as he eyed Andrew's naked, sweaty, flushed body. "How 'bout you?"
Andrew rolled his eyes. "Good night, junkie," he droned, and straightened up. As he left the room, he paused at the door and said, "Next time we do that, we're not doing it on chest day."
Neil laughed. "You liked it?"
Andrew turned and gave Neil a be serious look over his shoulder. "I don't do anything I don't want to do," he deadpanned, and grabbed a towel on his way out of the room.
Neil grinned at his back and called, "I bet you just liked having my hot, sexy legs wrapped around you!"
"You bet," Andrew called back, and slammed the bathroom door shut.