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Fairytales aren’t real, Andrew knows this implicitly, but the electric blue that gazes so tenderly across the room, tracking his languid movements, makes him wonder if there might be something more to this world than it seems. His hands are full, so he pushes the closet door shut with his hip- a well-timed kick to send it home. Andrew meets Neil’s eyes, a willing captive at the moment as he furrows his brow for a moment. A hand, warm and enticingly familiar holds tight to his heart at the sight ahead of him, though his face refuses to give him up.
It’s his number, emblazoned so proudly across Neil’s chest- a silent proclamation that is syrupy sweet on his tongue even in the audacious orange that burns his eyes. But it’s nothing the adoration dripping off of Neil as he sits so quietly, expectantly on the edge of the bed and smoothing the covers with long, cautious fingers, cannot quell. There’s a distant hum of a television but the only sound Andrew could care about is whatever he can rip from Neil, thready and impossibly luscious. Neil anxiously kicks his feet, scuffing the carpet in a manner that Andrew would consider appalling if done by anyone else- it just makes his heart swell in his chest as it’s paired with Neil’s sheepish smile.
“Handcuffs, yes or no?” Andrew presents the leather with a familiar disinterest, eyes tracing the white cracks of scarring that dons Neil’s hand as their fingers drag against one another in a split moment. The breath in Andrew’s chest burns deliciously. Neil curiously turns the leather in his hands, gaze nonjudgemental and endearing. He tugs on the thick chain that links the two cuffs, a teasing smile pulling at his lips. The insides are lined, supple and well-cared for. Andrew shivers in silent delight, eyes darkening and his stomach knotting in arousal at the way Neil innocently explores the leather; Neil’s sinuous fingers slip inside the leather cuff, something innocuous but incredibly lewd with his concentration. They slide with ease across the leather, Neil’s tongue precariously peeking out in sinful pink against his bitten red lips. Andrew coughs awkwardly, willing the rising heat in his cheeks to settle as he finds his voice, “It’s okay if no-”
Neil puts a hand up, dismissive of Andrew’s potential rescind. Andrew chews on his cheek as Neil returns to the cuffs, drawing scarred hands across scarred leather. The chain clanks as Neil suddenly pulls the cuffs as far apart as he can, with just a few inches of room to move. Andrew’s knees feel weak as Neil cautiously wraps one around his wrist, shielding some of Neil's more tender parts and Neil is careful to not lock it in place, merely rubbing the material up and down his arm.
The leather is worn and well-loved but not by Neil. Something that Andrew grievously wishes to change, watching the way Neil explores the supple material with interest. It’s not that he’s never seen the set before, but never with the explicit intent to be used on him. As Neils rolls the cuffs in his hands, the thin chains that link them clink in a way that drowns out the roar of Andrew’s heart. Lined with soft fur, Andrew wishes to mask the lingering sweat from nights that meant so much less with whatever Neil would allow him.
“Yes,” Neil breathes out, hand extending back to return the cuffs. His eyes are bright, warm and full of something that Andrew has never truly felt he deserved. His touch drifts across Andrew’s knuckles as they exchange the item, voice clear and unburdened while he tilts his head to the side, sunset curls brushing across the beautifully marred face, “I trust you, Drew.”
The breath in Andrew’s chest feels like it’s punched from him, placated with the kindness that Neil dangles in front of him. Icy blues meander over Andrew, taking in soft curves and harsh lines. Neil’s smile is a caricature of himself in every way, larger than he truly is and full of sinister intent as he wanders scarred fingers over the covers in a playful attempt to draw Andrew from a desolate castle of thoughts. Andrew returns it, a mirror menace and every bit as adoring.
“Hands, baby,” purrs Andrew, the weight of the cuffs incomparable to the easy way Neil’s hand drapes itself into Andrew’s. Andrew doesn’t know what is rougher, his lips or the scars that meet his eager mouth. At the promising press of Andrew’s kiss to fractured knuckles, Andrew can feel the desperate flex of muscle, the ache for more but unwilling to cross the line without permission. The tessellation of scars burns in Andrew’s mind as the cuffs wind so perfectly around Neil’s wrist, sliding into place and clicking close. Andrew thumbs across the knuckles before the other cuff slides into place, piecemeal as he clasps Neil’s hands together, dropping them into Neil’s waiting lap, “So perfect for me.”
Neil makes a quiet, bitten-back sound as he curls his fingers into his knees. It’s a simple gesture but it doesn’t keep Andrew’s eyes from sliding down the long lines of Neil’s body, his arousal blatantly tenting in his shorts as it’s framed so wickedly by the leather and chains. Andrew’s eyes drag greedily back up to Neil’s face, a dastardly blush painted on his cheeks and slinking readily down the taut column of his throat until it dips beneath the collar of Neil’s- Andrew’s- jersey. The petals of Neil’s mouth are inviting, Neil shyly nibbling on his bottom lip as he meets Andrew’s gaze, challenging.
“Don’t be quiet,” Andrew requests, but it sounds more like a prayer the way he’s breathless and drawing his fingertips reverently across the spectacular cartography of Neil’s face. Every scar was a story, one that Andrew would listen to on repeat if it meant he could only hear Neil’s voice. Every raw edge was a nightmare, one Andrew would tend to with shaky hands and a shakier tenderness. His thumb presses, patient and purposeful, against the seam of Neil’s mouth, “Yes or no?”
The wet slide of Neil’s tongue slipping, serpentine, along the rough pad of Andrew’s thumb is inviting. A sloppy, wanton pant washes across Andrew’s hand as his fingers curl, unassuming and kind, beneath Neil’s chin. Long lashes kiss the blistering, sun-kissed skin of Neil’s cheeks as he hums against the blonde’s thumb. It only takes the subtle scrape of bitten nails to Neil’s throat for Neil to flutter his eyes open, glossy and soft and as open and inviting as a summer sky as he presses a fleeting kiss to the tip of Andrew’s finger. His voice is quiet, a whisper that rattles Andrew’s body in a violently delicious way, “Yes, Andrew.”
It’s a simmering arousal, the way it curls tight in Andrew’s stomach as he watches Neil pull Andrew’s thumb into his mouth. Neil’s eyes shut peacefully, his hands rubbing into his thighs as he dazedly smiles at Andrew. As Andrew’s thumb retreats, it catches on Neil’s lower lip, giving it a teasing pull. Andrew shuffles a fraction closer, wiping the thin layer of spit on Neil’s lip.
Trust wafts so calmly off of Neil, following the gentle press of Andrew’s palms to his chest. He is a vision of beauty, angelic as he’s lost in the covers. Andrew curls his fingers around the short chain, the metal a comfortable barrier that shields the two of them, invisible yet seen. Neil’s eyes are impossibly bright as he blinks, slow and reassured, up at the blonde. Hovering at the edge of the bed, at the edge of Neil’s spread legs, Andrew gives a minuscule sneer- something laced with anything but annoyance.
“Can I touch you, yes or no?”
A finger slides, just the risqué side of curiosity, against the seam of leather and skin. Andrew can almost taste the flicker in Neil’s rising pulse at the intimate, purposeful touch. Swiping his tongue along his lower lip is nothing short of sin as Neil rasps out a breathy keen, gaze cloudy and found, “Yes, Andrew.” A sheen of drool glistens provocatively on the corner of Neil’s lips, threatening to caress his chin tenderly in a way that spurs a knot of jealousy in Andrew. A foot curls behind Andrew’s tensed calf, a weight that should send unease through him but instead a spark of delight warms inside his chest when Neil combines it with a whispered desperation, “Drew, touch me.”
Andrew watches the way Neil’s fingers itch, curling and uncurling closer and closer to Andrew’s hand- but never once breaking that unspoken curtain of security. Andrew swallows, eyes darkening as he basks in Neil’s lidded arousal. Sparse hairs crown Neil’s stomach, a thrilling trail that disappears into his shorts and draws Andrew’s ravenous gaze towards Neil’s prominent need. Andrew reaches out with starved fingers, etching his initials into Neil’s bare quivering thigh, stretching just beneath the slinky hem. A slippery sigh ruptures from Neil’s lips, legs shaking just enough to draw Andrew’s savant fingers further along his upper thigh- the rough edges of abused skin pushing up to meet Andrew’s own scathed flesh in a macerated fluidity, confident and unbothered.
“You look so good,” praises Andrew, rough and true, while he slithers with practiced ease between the promising sprawl of Neil’s legs. Beneath the taut fabric of Neil’s workout shorts, there’s little denying the wanton twitch of Neil’s cock at the hushed tones Andrew uses for him and him alone. Hands so cruel touch Neil so reverently, experimenting with the hem of the jersey that clings divinely to Neil. Depositing himself atop Neil’s trembling, waiting body, Andrew brackets their thighs together like a puzzle. Neil’s stomach muscles tense and ache as blunt nails scrape just under the edge. Andrew’s hair kisses Neil’s forehead as Andrew looms overhead, the closest thing to a smile on his face, “You look even better in my clothes, baby.”
A flush blossoms across Neil’s cheeks, tucking his chin shyly into his shoulder. It’s not a clean jersey, worn by the blonde to the past few practices, but the intoxicating scent overwhelms Neil as his eyes flutter close. Sweat and whiskey, the fragrant, pungent remnants of cigarette smoke spilling around Neil, a closeness unthinkable for Neil just a few months ago. Angelic is a disservice to the devil that is Neil, but it feels so right to Andrew as he looks down at Neil with a scarlet halo dancing on the pillow. Andrew is stiflingly cruel as he ruts their hips together, purposely dragging their cocks against one another, ripping a violent moan from Neil’s mouth.
Scrunching the fabric in his hand, the jersey is familiar but so different as it slides up and reveals the crossroads that litter Neil’s stomach, travels no longer taken alone. A soft whine escapes Neil, glancing sideways up at the blonde. Freckles ignite beneath his flush, constellations hung in a milky night skin and Neil bucks his hips, unbidden but eager, into Andrew’s. Thumbs press delicately into the marked skin of Neil’s stomach, admiring something unashamedly fragile with a tenderness unexplored.
“Let me in,” Andrew croaks dryly. His knuckles have gone white around the jersey’s hem. It’s an admission of want, a moment of virile vulnerability and shame begins to creep across Andrew’s face as he stares longingly at the length of Neil’s torso displayed to him out of free will, mutual desire. A declaration dies on Andrew’s tongue as he spies the way Neil’s fists repeatedly clench and unclench, marveling at the white scars and how beautiful they look on the dark sheets.
A smile creeps across Neil’s face, flittering between the absolution in the depths of his eyes while wiggling beneath the blonde, “Only if you never leave.” Coy is never a good look on Neil, but it serves to quell the momentary anxiety that had threatened to capsize his heart. Andrew’s face looms over Neil’s, content in the closeness but Neil closes the gap, arching his neck so his lips just barely brush against the shell of the blonde’s ear before he falls back into the bed, “Leaving has never been a good look on you anyways, Drew.”
Andrew sneers, a cruel sound that vibrates beautifully in his chest as he tears down Neil’s shorts and briefs with a single fluid motion. A hand curls into Neil’s soft hair, yanking just enough to draw a quiet moan from Neil. Ghosting his lips just a hairsbreadth away from Neil’s, Andrew can feel the shuddering gasp that claims Neil. Pressing their foreheads together, Andrew swallows thickly, “Then you need to stay too.”
He doesn’t allow Neil the opportunity to retort, instead taking advantage of the erotic curve of Neil’s neck and running his tongue along a stray scar; Andrew’s hand finds its way to Neil’s thigh, fingers delicately tracing along the seam of his hip and skimming just shy of the cock that throbs pathetically against Neil’s trembling stomach. Neil’s member twitches in anticipation, the expectant weight of Andrew’s body boxing him in like a suffocating flame.
Andrew’s jersey does not fit Neil by any means, too small that it rides up his stomach and shows off those scathed parts of Neil that Neil has always kept hidden. Each scar, no longer raw with an ache Andrew cannot tend to, is instead a new thread of Neil that Andrew pulls on, exploring with featherlight touches that covet. Every time Andrew skims his fingers across the rough edges, a quiet whine pours so sweetly between Neil’s bitten lips and he pushes his hips up against the prominent bulge in Andrew’s arousal. Thigh tense and relax beneath Andrew, hands clenching and opening above Neil’s head, held only in place by some leather and Neil’s faith in a being greater than he- Andrew. Scraping blunt nails into Neil’s soft stomach, slinking through the sparse hairs decorating his happy trail, Andrew cannot ignore the subtle thrum of Neil’s calm heartbeat beneath his curious hands.
Cradling Neil’s waist in careless hands, the fabric bunches in Andrew’s elbows as he leans forward, mouth hovering just shy of Neil’s. Their bodies slot together with ease, honeyed warmth meeting oceanic depths. “Can I kiss you?” Andrew asked, the next part unspoken as Neil parts dry lips, licking across them with a sinful tongue.
“Yes, I would like that,” confesses Neil, pupils glassy as Andrew crashes their mouths together.
The bed protests as Neil flexes his arms, hands desperate to feel the comfort of flesh but unwilling to breach that veil of safety. Instead Andrew laces a hand into auburn curls, nails cruel as they scrawl indiscernible, unknowable truths into Neil’s scalp. A low groan rumbles out of Andrew, teeth dominating Neil’s compliant, willing mouth. Andrew scrapes his hand across the smooth plane of Neil’s chest, mesmerized by the underlying thunder of his heartbeat. Rolling their hips together beckons a breathy whine from Neil, one swallowed down quickly by Andrew’s hungry mouth.
Tracing Neil’s throat with his tongue, Andrew ghosts his touch along Neil’s sides and earns himself a thready whimper and a shiver. Teeth nip at the hollow of Neil’s collarbone, fingertips pressing too cruelly into the dips of Neil’s hips. Neil’s chest heaves as he whines, writhing beautifully underneath Andrew and pressing their bodies impossibly closer. Andrew allows his hips to drop, Neil’s cock smearing precome across Andrew’s own covered arousal when Andrew’s fingers tenderly stroke through the downy hairs of his happy trail.
Neil thumps his hands pitifully into the bed, scrunching the material in his hands as if it could possibly distract him from the way Andrew’s face is buried under the jersey and tracing along the length of one of Neil’s scars until his tongue is curling devilishly around a nipple. The sounds spilling from Neil are wicked but they pale in comparison to the choked-off groans he makes when Andrew pressed two fingers onto his tongue. Saliva slicks the gradual press of Andrew’s hand, the other hand clutching at Neil’s hip with white knuckles.
Andrew teases a nipple between his teeth but relents on the torture to rear his head back, taking in the sight of Neil beneath him, deliciously pliant. Planting his free hand directly onto Neil’s sternum, Andrew automatically begins to fuss with the neckline of the jersey, now damp with sweat and drool. “What a sight,” Andrew deadpans but the way his eyes gleam darkly gives away his addiction.
Neil’s hips shift wretchedly underneath Andrew, Neil grinding his aching cock into the spread of Andrew’s legs. Glacier eyes have glossed over, melting under the heat of Andrew’s desire. Lily-pink lips are spread sinfully around the two fingers stroking his tongue, drool beginning to slick Andrew’s wrist. Andrew’s jersey is shucked up, framing Neil’s sculpted chest and the long lines of his body. Neil shudders when Andrew slips drenched fingers from his mouth, the digits slinking down Neil’s neck and across his chest. Obediently, Neil keeps his mouth open and doggedly whines as Andrew brushes slick fingers across Neil’s hip. Andrew hums quietly, mostly to himself, as he leans down on top of Neil.
A low, reedy whine trills out of Neil as the brunt of Andrew’s bulk lays atop him. Supporting himself with his weight on his forearms is easy enough for Andrew, tilting his head to the side and murmuring a placating worship to Neil’s temple. Andrew threads his fingers into Neil’s hair, placing a wet kiss just below his ear. Rocking his hips down against Neil is gratifying enough for Andrew, easing some of the ache that has been building like a wall crumbling down inside of him; but the soft whisper of his name is far more promising to Andrew. Neil’s cock jumps between their bodies, trapped in their combined warmth. Andrew noses his way along Neil’s jaw, a wake of kisses threatening to drown Neil as the hands kneading against his scalp keep his head just about water, gasping for air and something more.
Their mouths crash and it burns Andrew, scalding and ravenous as Neil rocks against him, pressing the length of his body harder up into the blonde. Leather skims against Andrew’s flexing knuckles, grounded in auburn curls and he swears filthily into Neil’s greedy mouth. Tongue and teeth are too soft for Andrew, but with Neil, it’s more than he warrants. Andrew reels back and is met with a pouting leer.
Neil frowns but it’s hard to feel bad when his blush has him by the throat, spit smeared across his lips that Andrew begrudgingly removes a hand from Neil’s hair to wipe away. Wiggling beneath him, Neil whines quietly as his bare cock ruts into Andrew’s shorts.
“Pl- Andrew, touch me,” Neil pants, a flush high on his cheeks. He wiggles beneath the blonde, purposeful as he ruts into the tempting spread of Andrew’s thighs, drawing out a long whine as their arousals grind together. Neil’s eyes are wet, wide and eager, as he loses himself in the grounding thrall of Andrew’s hands in his hair. The blonde drags his hands, torturously slow along Neil’s sides, every press of his fingers like a welcome brand to the ridges of scars. Andrew scoots down just enough to miss the pleasurable press of Neil’s body into his before tucking his face into the alluring curve of Neil’s neck. “An-Ah!”
The words die in Neil’s throat, thick with want as a calloused hand wraps delicately around his cock. Andrew inhales deeply, groaning into the junction of Neil’s neck, right where their scents mingle in harmony. Dragging his teeth gently across Neil’s collarbone, Andrew grins sheepishly as the cock in his hand jumps. Precome smears down the shaft with each pass of Andrew’s loose fist. A flutter of lips chases Neil’s jumping throat, a flutter of fingers stripping Neil’s cock with cruel intent.
The sinful arch of Neil’s back as he pushes up into Andrew’s hand has the blonde breathless. Short nips decorate Neil’s throat, splashes of scarlet springing up across the taut skin at his pulse points. There’s beauty in the pliancy of Neil, someone so hardened by life but melting with finality under Andrew’s rough hands. Neil leaks onto Andrew’s hands, slicking the way for Andrew to meticulously take apart Neil, touch by touch and kiss by kiss. Sweet sounds drip from Neil and Andrew trails his lips across Neil’s shoulder, sucking quiet marks of adoration into the skin.
“‘m close,” Neil whimpers, voice high and tight as he thrusts wantonly up into Andrew’s fist. Tracing a hand up Neil’s stomach, Andrew thumbs across a nipple. Digging a finger into the slit of Neil’s cock, a stream of precome dribbles out and slips across Andrew’s knuckles as he bites his name into Neil’s shoulder, right on the pucker of a scar. Neil jerks his bound fists into the bed, crooning long and low, “Wanna cum, Drew.” His words have begun to slur together, syrupy and thick as Andrew’s skin buzzes in delight, the confirmation of approval.
“Whenever you want, baby,” Andrew licks into the shallow dip of Neil’s collarbone. Neil shakily exhales, hips thrusting wetly into the squeezing heat of Andrew’s hand. Skimming a hand down the length of Neil’s stomach, Andrew can practically taste the way Neil’s body clenches in anticipation. Tipping his nose back into Neil’s throat, Andrew sinks his teeth into the soft spot just beneath Neil’s ear. It’s an electric thrum between them as Neil howls in delight.
Neil’s hips buck incessantly into Andrew’s fist, clinging to a high that streaks across his stomach and drips in pearlescent ribbons down Andrew’s slowing fingers. Andrew thumbs across the sensitive head and Neil thrashes his head into the sheets, whining so sweetly as Andrew continues to lazily pump Neil’s cock, steering on a delectable side of sloppy overstimulation until Neil is panting our Andrew’s name as if it could spare him.
Releasing Neil’s spent cock earns Andrew a blessed sigh and Andrew laves at the small beads of sweat that glisten on the crown of Neil’s throat. Spreading his fingers across the heaving muscles of Neil’s stomach, Andrew draws small shapes of affection in the cooling release as he kisses back up along Neil’s jaw. Their mouths slip together serendipitously together, hot and slick, and Neil groans into the kiss when Andrew pulls back and climbs off the bed.
A glance back has Andrew’s heart in his throat.
Neil’s chest is a masterpiece, scratches littering his skin as they crisscross the ribbons of scarring- a gift given so freely to Andrew. Cum smears across the marks, debauched and lustful as Neil swings his arms down with a luscious sigh of relief. The cracks in the leather are enhanced by the cum as it coats the outside, slicking the lining. Lovebites adorn his skin, laced upon his shoulder and tied back up to his throat in a proclamation of desire.
“You’re staring,” Neil muses aloud, fingers splaying through his release. His tone is anything but accusatory, infused with airy confidence like he knew just how good he looks, covered in Andrew’s dazed needs and lazy obsession. Andrew is quick to bury himself in a drawer while flipping off Neil. Neil laughs and it’s a godly rumble that strikes Andrew to the core, “It’s okay, I like it when you stare at me.”
Andrew’s shoulders relax a little, dropping at the gentle admission.
“Andrew,” Neil’s voice is buttery, loose as he smiles thinly, “I’d like to touch you.” The blonde stiffens for a moment as he continues to rifle through the bedside drawer, worrying his bottom lip. The silence is far from difficult but it’s hard to ignore the thunder of Neil’s heartbeat just a few feet away. Procuring a bottle of lube, Andrew returns to the comfort between Neil’s legs. A home he cannot burn, a friend he cannot forgo, a lover he cannot forget. Neil’s hands are curled in his lap, the leather cuffs slipping through the cooling streaks of cum on his stomach- his fingers lace patiently together, aching for more but never taken more than permitted. Andrew kneels between the Eden of Neil’s legs, downy and slick with Neil’s dripping arousal.
Andrew sucks in a sharp breath, something that stings his chest. His lips whisper a promise into the inside of Neil’s thigh, forehead resting on Neil’s leg. Peering up Neil’s body, Andrew can barely make out Neil’s face. He can’t miss the way the soft waves of Neil’s bangs stick to his forehead with sweat, the way Andrew’s jersey is shucked up to expose the sweetest parts of Neil- the raw lines from Andrew’s nails dancing across his chest and stomach, a majestic pirouette that joins them together, his nipples dark and hard in the low light of the room. Neil’s cock twitches promisingly as Andrew’s breath washes over it.
“I’d…” Andrew murmurs a prayer into Neil’s thighs, tongue tracing the throng of muscles that yield beneath his journeying mouth. “I’d like that as well, baby,” Andrew confesses and it’s like a freight train crashing into him, the way Neil’s fingers latch pathetically into his hair and tug him closer, desperate for the contact. Neil breathes out a complacent sigh, stroking his fingers through Andrew’s hair, the blonde locks feathering in his hand. The body before Andrew sags into the sheets, floating angelic. Andrew grins wolfishly, full of teeth, into the crook of Neil’s thigh, nose teasing along the edge of Neil’s cock as it slowly fattens at the attention.
The lube snaps open and Andrew drizzles it across his fingers, uncaring as it slides onto the carpet, the only mess he cares about is laid out before him like a banquet. Andrew is famished. Metal clicks together, nudging Andrew’s forehead as Neil loses himself in the blonde. Neil’s chest heaves, eyes crushed shut as Andrew rubs his fingers together with a wet cacophony.
Neil hisses through his teeth, fingers clasping greedily into Andrew’s hair as the blonde languidly swipes his thumb across Neil’s hole. Pink and flexing, it furls beautifully as Andrew teases his thumb along the rim at a lax pace. He barely presses the tip of the digit inside when Neil is knocking his ankle along Andrew’s side, panting an apology that’s met with Andrew’s wide palm stroking up and down Neil’s calf.
“Look at how pretty you are like this,” Andrew croons, too sharp to truly be sweet but it’s the edge that catches on Neil’s slipping attention. Andrew reaches up with his clean hand, fingertips skittering along whatever promise of flesh he can before he’s grasping Neil’s chin and tips his face towards a mirror on the other side of the room. Red rages across Neil’s face as he immediately whips his head in the opposite direction, adamantly refusing to release his hold on Andrew. However, Andrew smirks at the way Neil’s arousal betrays him, the length of his cock throbbing against the ridges of his stomach.
Neil moans vivaciously when Andrew runs his tongue along a thin vein on the underside of Neil’s cock, pressing a far too chaste kiss to the swollen head, a teasing swipe of Andrew’s tongue gathers a bead of precome. Neil lightly taps his hand on the side of Andrew’s head and the blonde hums in acknowledgment, sitting back on his heels and whispering soft praises inside the crook of Neil’s hip. Soft whines drip like honey out of Neil, thick and perfectly sweet, as he pushes his body back onto Andrew’s thumb.
A smattering of lazy kisses is peppered across the swell of Neil’s hip, drawn upon with a loose tongue. Andrew peers up through thick lashes, not able to miss the way Neil softens into the sheets with each drag of Andrew’s thumb, slowly dipping in further with every twist of his wrist. A solitary string of drool dribbles from kiss-bruised lips, gleaming on Neil’s chin and pooling on his throat. Small chirps of bliss bubble out of Neil, unbidden and unrestricted as his fingertips comb through Andrew’s hair, getting lost in the simplest touch. Neil moans, deep and brassy when Andrew removes his thumb, teeth sinking into the velvet of Neil’s hip that undulates towards him, silently beckoning for more.
Thrusting two fingers inside of Neil, Andrew watches with hungry eyes as Neil bows off the bed- hands grappling for a lifeline in something that should have felt dead but was never more alive than with Neil. Andrew allows his head to be pulled, tearing a gasping, slick whine from Neil as Andrew drags his tongue through the drying mess on Neil’s stomach. Curling his fingers, Andrew revels in the syrupy sounds that drip from Neil.
“So good,” murmurs Andrew while his lips drag sinisterly across the span of Neil’s twitching stomach, passing through Neil’s cooled release unbothered. Fingers crooking just right, Andrew knows he’s found Neil’s prostate by the low, drawn-out whine that rolls over Neil like a dream- impossibly enchanting. Nails scratch across Andrew’s head, an anchoring touch as he leisurely pumps his fingers deeper, harder. Sloppy pants wash over Andrew’s shoulder as he kisses up Neil’s sternum, and breathes like an earthquake shaking underneath him. “You sound so fucking good, baby,” Andrew admonishes before ornamenting a finalizing kiss to the artwork of Neil’s throat.
Neil squirms deliciously under Andrew’s purposeful touch, aching and arching. Words fell so carelessly, effortlessly from Neil’s bullish mouth so seeing him reduced to a wanton, blubbering mess is a source of pride for Andrew, though he’d be quick to deny it. Ice blue snaps open as Andrew unceremoniously strokes a third finger across the stretched rim of Neil’s hole, teasing the reddened furl with intent. It sinks slowly in and Andrew can’t help the way his smile burns into Neil’s thigh as he nips across the scar lines, watching the way Neil’s body readily accepts him without question.
Each long press of Andrew’s fingers earns a new heavy dribble of arousal to drip and cling to the sparse hairs on Neil’s stomach, already thick with his earlier release. Every scrape of Andrew’s teeth garners a new sugary sweet moan from Neil, spurring a new bead of precome to trace along a vein and drip onto Andrew’s wrist. Soft hums warble like a song from Neil’s mouth each time Andrew strokes along Neil’s sensitive inner walls with tender abandon. Neil pouts and scrabbles pitifully at Andrew’s hair, wordlessly pleading for the blonde to stay as Andrew reclaims his fingers, shiny with lube and scalding from Neil’s evocative heat. Dismissively, he wipes his hand disinterestedly on his jeans before placing a too-chaste kiss on the ruptured ridge of Neil’s jutting hip.
Ruefully, Andrew pulls himself to a stand, his head bowed down to Neil in piety. It’s an ache in his neck and back to tower over the other but the way Neil’s fingertips brush across the reddening tips of his ears makes it worthwhile. Andrew has a condom in his fingers, already fiddling with the foil when the weight of Neil’s hand slips out of his hair. He’s ever careful to avoid lingering touches as he tugs the foil from Andrew, the blonde offering little resistance but an upraised eyebrow. Neil’s voice is dry, cracking like a desert and his sole salvation is found within Andrew, “I want to feel you, pl-” Neil cuts himself off with a shaky groan, eyes fluttering close before raising to meet Andrew’s. “I need to feel you, Andrew.”
Andrew’s throat is raw with want. Vulnerability shines like a beacon across the waves of blue that track the rocky emotions that cross Andrew’s face, Neil would never ask for more than Andrew could take. Dumbly, Andrew nods.
Nakedness is not unusual for Andrew, a different breed of exposure that he cannot pin down. But there’s something safe, enveloping as Neil smiles blindly up at him, a sunflower basking in the glorious light of an anointed sun. Andrew busies himself with throwing his own undergarments and shorts side, banished to a forgotten corner. He keeps on his shirt, much to the dismay of Neil but Neil refrains from commenting and flashes Andrew a toothy, lackadaisical grin. The blonde amusedly watches Neil, the warmth that crashes off of him, and the way his eyes are so serenely shut. Neil’s lips don’t stop moving, slurred blessings of Andrew’s name spilled so freely while he curls his fingers into Andrew’s hair once more- he is intimately familiar with the subtleties of Andrew, the way his skull curves just a little more sharply than others and the way Andrew growls his name when Neil tugs just right at the hairs at the base of his neck.
Andrew doesn’t even have the time to wrap a hand around his cock, smearing a pearl of precome down his length before ankles are locked behind him, Neil blessedly trapping him. Each muscle thrums with a song of sublime pleasure beneath Andrew, dancing his free hand across the flesh that haunts his dreams, and mocked him with passing glances for years. Years of running have done Neil more than any gym could, but Neil has done more for Andrew than any combination of therapies could. Skimming a hand across Neil’s stomach, Andrew’s fingers collect Neil’s cooling release before Andrew dipped the mess into Neil’s open mouth.
It’s a raunchy, sopping slurp as Neil’s devilish tongue delves between the lax spread of Andrew’s long fingers, flexing atop the wet muscle. A second hand slides between Neil’s legs, caressing taut thighs with admiration. Long, deep strokes of Andrew’s fingers around Neil’s straining cock coax a choked-off groan that vibrates Andrew down to his soul. The slick slide of their bodies could mystify, the way Andrew’s cock slips along the crook of Neil’s spread hips. Andrew retreats his hands.
The metal slips in Andrew’s fingers, cool and comforting as he grabs at the chain connecting the cuffs, spreading his fingers and pushing further down the bed. Neil moans, sugary sweet and thick as molasses as his body is stretched so divinely closer into the bedsheets while Andrew nudges the head of his cock against the sweet heat of Neil’s beckoning body. A stiff tug of the chain has Neil arching provocatively into Andrew’s body, swollen cock butting against Andrew’s clothed stomach and tearing a slow whine from Neil.
Andrew grits his teeth, hips teetering on a razor edge as he struggles not to sink into Neil’s enticing, pulsing heat with a single thrust. Sinful and slick, a warbled whine of Andrew’s name skips on Neil’s tongue as the blonde’s cock splits him just by a thick head. Carving a hand across Neil’s hip, Andrew sucks in a wet breath as he steadies himself and meets Neil’s faded gaze. Icy eyes are unable to focus on anything, barely able to stop himself from rocking desperately back onto Andrew’s cock. Andrew tsks in annoyance and yanks the chain just enough to make Neil blink dreamily up at him, raunchily licking his lips.
“Stay still, Neil,” Andrew purrs and it’s drenched in lust so unabashedly that it’s almost shocking. Andrew scales a hand up Neil’s side, fingers skating along the shallow hollows of Neil’s ribcage as if he could crawl inside. “Be a good boy and let me take care of you,” the blonde murmurs, and Neil moans vividly in response, coloring the room in a litany of prayers and a chorus of swear words that mix with Andrew’s name. Neil nods quickly, sharply and his eyes are blinding as he submits, melting underneath Andrew.
Stroking the exposed flesh of Neil’s hip, Andrew belligerently rocks his hips enough to tear a gasping whine from Neil. Barely pressing himself inside of the comforting warmth of Neil’s body, Andrew shivers in delight at the way Neil’s body reacts to him; Neil prays to a god he doesn’t believe in to keep him still and gives the rest of his faith to a boy that could have his bodies and heart in ruins. Calloused hands immortalize streaked marble flesh as Andrew carefully pulls his cock out, just enough to let Neil relish in the subtle burn of the stretch.
The hand around Neil’s throat is the farthest thing from a mockery of a collar, Andrew’s thumb chasing the skipping pulse with a lax adoration. The touch is loose, lingering and it pulls Neil’s glazed eyes to Andrew’s. It’s grounding, the way their gazes lock and Andrew’s hips stutter to a halt, the breath in his lungs ignited by the fire beneath him. Andrew’s hand slides up, cradling Neil’s face with a dear affliction.
“Drew?” Neil’s voice is scratchy and dry as he licks his lips, Andrew’s eyes flicking down momentarily before drawing back up to Neil’s face. Neil opens his mouth to ask but is instead greeted by the vibrant wet heat of Andrew’s mouth slotting against his own. Teeth drag against Neil’s lips, demanding but never taking and Neil whines into the feverish kiss as he feels Andrew’s cock throb inside of him, his own jerking desperately for attention between their bodies. Confusion twists on Neil’s face but Andrew refuses to leave his current thoughts.
Hands scrabble blindly across the sheets, Andrew unwilling to take a breath that doesn’t include the subtle mint of Neil’s toothpaste. He finds what he wants and it tears a quiet question from Neil’s lips that Andrew swallows down, lacing a hand into Neil’s. The soft click of a lock is deafening, but even more so are the words Andrew whispers against Neil’s mouth like a derelict confession, “I trust you, Josten.” The leather peels from Neil’s wrist, followed by a gentle squeeze and soon the other follows and fingers rough with callouses and abuse stroke across the inside of Neil’s wrist. Andrew’s hands scale back, lightly gripping Neil’s chin, he opens his mouth to say something but chooses to bite it back.
Neil’s smile blossoms, experimenting with his new freedom. An exercise in trust. “Where?” is all Neil can manage to blurt out, fingers aching to touch. Andrew is silent as he busies himself by slowly grinding his hips into Neil, a lazy hope of distraction. A slow moan bubbles from Neil but it’s short-lived as he attempts to refocus, trying again to garner an answer. “Where can I touch, Drew?” Despite trying to sound stern, it just sounds pathetic with how his voice jumps with each shallow thrust.
It’s so quick, the way Andrew curls a hand around Neil’s wrist and raises it to his waist, to where his shirt has ridden up to expose a small bit of his skin. Saliva pools on Neil’s tongue and Andrew sucks in a sharp breath as Neil strokes a finger across the flesh. “Just,” Andrew’s voice hitches as Neil reverently worships the tiny bit of Andrew that the blonde has allowed him, stroking across the ridge of a hipbone, “Just here.” Neil nods dumbly and submits himself to the luxury of small touches.
A quiet hum exalts from Andrew as Neil absentmindedly tasks himself with memorizing the patch of flesh with eager abandon. Each time scarred flesh travels across the soft slope of Andrew’s hipbone, Neil clenches involuntarily around Andrew’s cock, and a soft whine billows from his bitten ruby lips. Andrew slowly rocks their bodies together, easing himself deeper into the welcoming heat that aches around him.
Andrew passes a slow hand across Neil’s chest, unrushed. Soft huffs escape Neil as Andrew dedicates each tip of his hips to a different scar adorning Neil’s body. One for the deep pucker of white that wraps around his shoulder, another for the long alabaster line that claims most of Neil’s torso. Every lingering touch is a wordless worship, a deeper press of Andrew’s hips until their hips meet.
Nails scrape desperately across Andrew’s hip and Andrew meets Neil’s glossy eyes, pupils blown in need as he grapples to keep his hand on the slip of skin. Andrew coos and it’s almost mistakable for something kind as he purrs, “You look so good like this.” A hand curls around Neil’s neglected cock and it wrenches a throaty keen from him. It’s a slippery slide, precome slicking the downstroke, and more promises to leak down the shaft as Andrew thumbs leisurely at the head. “You sound even better,” Andrew confesses airily. Neil bites his lip in protest, but it’s a useless defense as Andrew brutally thrusts into him, ripping a wet whine from Neil. Andrew draws a hand along the back of Neil’s other hand, staying obediently on the bed. Andrew links their fingers and guides it beneath his own shirt, Neil shuddering at the warmth of Andrew’s stomach on his fingertips. Andrew relinquished his hold and draws his hand up Neil’s forearm, smiling doggedly down at Neil. “Now be a good boy and behave,” Andrew is breathless, nails scraping lightly on his stomach, his hand tight around Neil’s cock as he strokes the length slowly, “I want to take care of you.”
Neil arches an eyebrow but he doesn’t have time to think about the implications before Andrew has a hand to his chest, pressing him deep into the bed and forcing his cock deliciously into Neil’s tight heat. Neil’s head bangs into the sheets and he moans gratuitously, pornographically as Andrew pistons their hips together in a slick symphony. Clawing down Andrew’s stomach, Neil can only feel the way the muscles contract under the force of Andrew’s concentration. Neil is practically crushed beneath Andrew’s bulk when the blonde slots their mouths together and Neil takes the opportunity to lace his ankles behind Andrew’s calves, beckoning him ever deeper.
Each tiny whimper Neil makes is swallowed down hungrily by Andrew, teeth clacking with no finesse as he strips Neil’s slippery cock. Every press of hips is a pleasurable heaven, wrapped in one another. Hands on Andrew’s hips, never guiding and never asking, Neil is a bleeding heart for whatever Andrew would be willing to give him. Neil’s breaths are quick and hot as they wash over Andrew’s mouth, whispering soft praises as he is leisurely jerked across the sheets. A bruising kiss is no match for the handprint that will surely blossom on Neil’s hip in the dawn.
“You taste, taste so good, baby,” Andrew rumbles, powerful and selfish against Neil’s cherry lips. Andrew’s body is an insufferable weight atop Neil, but neither seems to mind as they lose themselves in the harsh kindness of the kiss. The twist of Andrew’s wrist is devilish, a mirror to the impish thrusts that wreck Neil into a beautiful symphony of Andrew’s broken name. Neil’s hands never move from their spot, anchored by a trust unyielding as his body aches and trembles divinely, clawing at unseen flesh.
Their mouths part and Neil’s lips are a sinful shade of red, swollen and abused, shiny with spit. A small drop of scarlet bubbles on the corner, Andrew hesitates but it’s quickly resolved as Neil licks away the blood with a gratuitous moan. Neil throws his head back, fanciful in the way his hair sticks erratically around his face and lewd sounds so readily fall from his gaping mouth. Andrew tips his nose against Neil’s throat, nipping and sucking new promises into the already well-marked flesh. The pulse beneath Andrew’s mouth matches the one throbbing in his palm.
Soft whines escape from Neil, hips buck back onto Andrew as he chases more of his own pleasure, desperate as he drunkenly chants Andrew’s name like it’s always been a bedside hymn. Andrew is relentless, snapping his body tight against Neil and drawing out more small sounds of gratification, dragging teeth against the sweet pulse point that earns Andrew some nails sinking deeper into his hips, a piss-poor attempt to bring Andrew impossibly deeper.
It’s an unraveling knot, Andrew’s own desire coming tight and high in his throat as his hips stutter for a moment. Neil flexes around him, silently asking for more and it’s all Andrew can do to provide. Andrew is starved as he kisses and licks across Neil’s collarbone, applying a matching set of affection to the ones he made earlier, wetly fisting Neil’s cock in a way that might be considered rough if it wasn’t for the broken chirps of bliss that swell out of Neil.
“And-Andrew,” Neil hiccups quietly, hands lamely grappling at Andrew’s covered waist and if Andrew was a lesser man, he’d be a goner for the tear-stained glass windows that wordlessly beg him. A hand comes to cradle Neil’s cheek, thumbing away a tear with a cracking smile. The hand around Neil’s cock does not slow, only eased on by the constant dribble of precome that promises to stain the sheets. Each downstroke earns Andrew a violent, delightful shiver of Neil’s heat around his cock, matched perfectly by quickening thrusts.
Nipping softly at Neil’s jaw, Andrew drags his tear-stained hand back down along Neil’s chest, murmuring into a favored scar on Neil’s cheek, “I’m waiting for you.” A blush burns hot on Neil’s cheeks, ravenous as it highlights a constellation of freckles on his nose. Neil gapes to the ceiling, and the soft sounds outside the room are drowned out by desperate grunts, searching hands. Neil throbs in Andrew’s hand once, twice before spilling a new layer of filth between their writhing bodies. Andrew moans softly in wondrous delight as Neil clenches around him, milking his length with cruel intent.
It’s Andrew’s unraveling at his release gushes into Neil, slipping out with wet squelches with each stuttering press of his hips. Hands poorly grasp at Andrew, willing the blonde to stay- and if Neil does, so will Andrew. Andrew’s forehead rests against Neil’s, sweaty and sticky and too warm for comfort. Neil tips his nose against Andrew, a silent request that Andrew happily complies with; they pant hotly into one another mouth, seeking a distant comfort in bodies outside of their own familiarity. Neil winces but Andrew is quick to kiss the corner of his scarred lips as he pulls himself out, doing his damnedest to revel in Neil’s presence and ignore the awkwardness of the afterglow. Neil’s hands creep behind Andrew and pull the blonde down to his chest, much to Andrew’s chagrin at the wet slide of cum between their bodies.
It’s a short-lived moment of bliss before Andrew is peeling Neil’s hands away, trying to not flush at the subtle crescent moons that litter his skin in a frenzied affection. Neil worries his bottom lip but soundlessly allows Andrew to slink away to the bathroom. Andrew’s hands are shaking slightly as he thrusts them, well-meaning, under the water stream, silently begging for it to heat up. A sideways glance provides Andrew with a honeyed image that imprints easily on Andrew’s psyche.
Neil’s long legs are sprawled over the edge of the bed, a slow ooze of cum painting the inside of his pale thighs, tapping his toes on the carpet as he stretches across the sheets. Hatchmarks snarl up his skin, violently snaking around his glistening torso and they crisscross with thin red lines from Andrew’s wordless confessions. Face crimson, Neil smiles warmly over at Andrew in a lazy way that clutches at the blonde. Andrew hurriedly wets a washcloth and squeezes it out, flicking off the water before toddling back over to Neil, who simply lies back on the bed with a loose grin and Andrew’s name on his lips.
“Thank you for trusting me,” Andrew’s voice is uncharacteristically small as he gently wipes at Neil’s bottom, failing to hold back his grimace as Neil’s swollen hole dribbles a small streak of cum. He dabs at it carefully before he’s pushed back by the press of a foot to his chest. Andrew feels childishly small as Neil sits up, staring down at him.
Andrew stiffens reflexively as Neil’s hand swings up before caressing his cheek with a touch so gentle it barely feels there. Fingertips trace across Andrew’s face, small marks of a forgettable childhood being replaced by the brightness of a future. Andrew swallows, hard. “You make trusting easy,” Neil strokes his thumb across Andrew’s eye, flicking away a fallen eyelash before succumbing back into the sheets with a dull thud. “You kept a home for me.” Neil extends his hands to the ceiling, rolling his bare wrists with a dreamy look on his face as Andrew returns to his task fastidiously. There’s some redness, a compliment of the evening and a reminder for the morning. Neil talks to the walls and looks over longing at the phone on a nearby nightstand. “You called me back, to home, to you.”
Andrew’s face twitches and grunts to himself. A masterpiece of pastels and indents decorates Neil’s alabaster thighs, Neil hums as Andrew lightly pats them with the washcloth. Keeping on task is easy enough for Andrew, but he can’t help the way he peeks up at Neil, expecting those cold eyes to be watching him. Instead, Neil stares at his hands, at the stretch of skin that was at the edge of the cuff. Andrew does hate that smile.
It’s not long after that Neil is sprawled across the armchair in the corner, a pair of obnoxiously bright pajama bottoms slung dangerously low on his hip, his hand resting idly without demand on Andrew’s ankle. Neil tucks his chin into Andrew’s hoodie that he stole from a laundry pile that should have been tended to instead of each other. The blonde has on an identical set of bottoms, both courtesy of Nicky, as he sits on the window sill. A breeze prickles at Andrew’s bare chest, smoke swirling around him as he flicks away a few stray embers. The day has begun to fade, the sun creeping over the horizon, but Andrew knows it’s just beginning for him.
“What do you dream about?” Neil bursts out, his voice cracking at the edges- a geode that promises something so close to divinity inside if only Andrew was willing to take the chance. Fingers shyly skate along the inside of Andrew’s wrist, a sweltering remembrance of the cuffs discarded to a corner of the bed. The blonde gazes disinterestedly up at the ceiling, creating worlds within the popcorned material. Each seems to end back at icy blue eyes that lock Andrew down and a soft smile that parts to incessantly talk about Exy; it’s a world covered in puckered scars like mountain ranges and smatterings of surface-level bruises like forests that Andrew wonders if he could finally feel free in.
The weight of Neil’s fingers in his is a heaven Andrew clings to like a petulant child, clutching their hands to his side while he takes a slow drag from his cigarette. It fills his lungs, and Neil fills his heart. Andrew grunts, noncommittal as he grants Neil a caustic sideways sneer. He could drown in those waters, Andrew feels like he is really, as he blows the smoke out the window.
“103%.”
Neil grins up at Andrew, and that’s all the blonde needs to know it will be dancing behind his eyes shortly enough.