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Andrew had been tricked into going on a family trip with Aaron and Nicky.
His cousin documented every second of it as though it were some sacred pilgrimage, taking an endless stream of pictures that all looked exactly the same: Nicky grinning brightly into the camera while Aaron and Andrew stood on either side of him wearing matching expressions of apathy.
When their time together came to an end, Andrew drove both of them to the airport so that Nicky could return to Germany and Aaron to Chicago. When they finally arrived and it was time to part ways, Nicky hugged Aaron, while Andrew simply received a pat on his back.
When it was Aaron’s turn to go, there was none of the dramatics, only a simple nod exchanged between them that carried more understanding than either of them would ever bother putting into words, followed by Aaron’s quiet, almost casual remark to come visit soon because the twins always asked about their uncle. Aaron’s daughters—those strange, unexpected constants in his brother’s life who, for reasons Andrew still did not understand, seemed to have taken a liking to him despite his best efforts to remain unimpressive and unapproachable.
It was a situation he had initially regarded with deep skepticism before gradually finding himself unwillingly entangled in it anyway, because wanting Aaron in his life come with the added consequence of having the twins there too. Andrew had nevertheless ended up in a position where he bought them expensive gifts and occasionally allowed them to drag him into games or sit him down and let them apply makeup on his face.
Finally free, Andrew returned to his apartment in Boston. The moment he stepped inside, he was immediately greeted by two cats, who wasted no time weaving themselves around his legs, bunting their heads insistently against his ankles. Andrew crouched down to pet them, his hands moving over their fur while they answered with sharp meows.
The cats making a scene of his return, quickly drew Neil out from the kitchen. He appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. “You’re back.”
Andrew didn’t say anything, he just reached for him and pressed their mouths together in a kiss. His hands settled on Neil’s hips, and Neil softened immediately under his touch, his arms lifting to loop around Andrew’s neck. Andrew pulled back, only enough to trail his lips down Neil’s neck where he started mapping the line of it with slow intent. Neil tilted his head instinctively to give him more room, his breath catching slightly as he let Andrew take his time.
“We—” Neil tried to say, but the word broke apart into something else, cut off by the soft sound that escaped him when Andrew found the sensitive spot beneath his ear.
Andrew looked at him, taking in the effect he still had on Neil after all this time. It was amusing, the way he already looked undone when Andrew had barely touched him.
With a faint, almost teasing hum, Andrew prompted him, “Mh?”
“You must be hungry,” Neil managed after a second, his voice steadier.
Andrew was, in fact, hungry—just not exclusively for real food. For a brief moment he considered ignoring the implication entirely in favor of something else, but then Neil added, “I made lasagna.” And that, at least, was enough to shift the balance of priorities, if only temporarily.
Neil smiled at him before slipping back into the kitchen to check on the oven. With Neil momentarily distracted, Andrew allowed himself to indulgence and check him out. He was wearing Andrew’s old Palmetto hoodie with his old jersey number printed on it, paired with those running shorts that never failed to drive Andrew mad.
The lasagna was decent. It was slightly overcooked at the edges, the top just a little too crispy, but cooking had never been Neil’s forte.
Neil insisted on doing the dishes despite Andrew’s lack of interest in whether they were done immediately or left until morning. So Andrew left him to it, retreating to the bathroom for a shower that washed away the lingering traces of travel and left him with that grounding sense of being back where he belonged.
When he returned in the living room, dressed in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, he found Neil already settled on the couch, flipping through channels until he landed on a National Geographic documentary. Andrew joined him, curling into his side in a way that had long since become second nature. And yet, even as he settled there, something restless stirred under his skin, an agitation he couldn’t ignore. Suddenly, proximity wasn’t enough. Not when Neil was right there and still somehow not close enough.
The thought lingered, insistent, until Andrew leaned in, pressing his mouth near Neil’s ear just enough to feel the subtle reaction it pulled from him. “Yes or no?” Andrew murmured, his voice low and steady.
Neil turned his head, his eyes wide and dark with want. “Yes.”
That was all Andrew needed.
His hand came up to the back of Neil’s neck, closing the distance. His fingers threaded into the hair at Neil’s nape as their mouths met. Neil leaned into it fully, and Andrew pulled him closer, guiding him until Neil shifted easily onto his lap, straddling him without breaking the kiss.
Andrew’s hands slid up Neil’s thighs, gripping just above his knees. He then dragged his palm down Neil’s chest, fingers slipping beneath the hem of his hoodie to trace the taut lines of his stomach. Neil’s breath hitched, and Andrew relished the way his muscles twitched under his touch. He shoved the fabric up, exposing Neil’s chest, the flush spreading across his skin, the way his nipples had already gone tight and pebbled. Andrew thumbed one, just to watch Neil’s hips jerk against him, rolling his hips down.
Andrew responded by gripping Neil’s ass, guiding his movements. Neil’s head tipped back and Andrew leaned to bite at his throat, sucking a bruise into the hollow beneath his jaw. Neil’s hands scrambled for purchase, sliding to Andrew’s shoulders.
Andrew’s hands slid down Neil’s body, fingers hooking into the waistband of his shorts. After pulling the fabric down, Andrew could see the damp spot on Neil’s boxers, darker where the fabric clung to him. His mouth watered at the thought of how slick he’d be when he finally got his hands on him. Neil arched up when Andrew’s fingers traced the outline of his dick through the fabric. "Andrew—" he started, but Andrew shut him up with another kiss, biting at his lower lip as he pressed his palm harder against Neil’s boxers, rubbing slow circles that had Neil’s thighs trembling.
Neil seemed to be impatient to be properly touched by Andrew, because he stood up and yanked the fabric down and threw them somewhere on the floor. His dick stood out, making Andrew’s throat go tight at the sight of him like this—spread out for Andrew to touch, his hips canting up like he couldn’t help himself, like he needed Andrew’s hands on him so badly it hurt.
Andrew’s own dick throbbed in answer, the ache between his legs sharp enough to make him grit his teeth. But he didn’t remove his clothes, not yet. Neil rocked forward, the damp heat between his legs pressing against Andrew's thigh. Andrew didn't move; he just let Neil find his rhythm. Neil's forehead dropped to his shoulder, lips parting on a silent gasp when he ground down harder.
The fabric of Andrew's hoodie bunched under Neil’s grip, the material stretched taut where he'd twisted it in his fist. His breath hitched, sharp and uneven, his hips jerking forward in desperate movements. "Fuck," Neil mumbled, the word muffled against Andrew's collarbone.
Andrew’s hand settled at the small of Neil's back, fingers splaying just enough to steady him. Neil made a noise at the contact, as if even that minimal touch was too much and not enough. His thighs tightened around Andrew's, muscles quivering with the effort of keeping himself upright as pleasure coiled tighter in his gut. Then Neil froze, a full-body stutter, before his breath punched out of him in a rush. His hips jerked once, twice, before he went still and came with a soft punched-out noise.
Andrew let his fingers trail absently up Neil’s spine, the sweat-slick skin warm under his touch. He slid his free hand up to tangle in Neil’s hair, tugging just hard enough to make Neil lift his head. Neil’s eyes were still blown wide, his lips swollen from Andrew’s teeth. He couldn’t resist leaning up to kiss him again, slow and lazy. Neil kissed him back like he was starving for it, his tongue sliding against Andrew’s in a way that sent a fresh spark of heat curling low in Andrew’s stomach.
Andrew’s boxers were starting to feel uncomfortable, so he shoved his pants and underwear down in one rough motion. They were now skin against skin, the slide of their bodies together so fucking good it made his vision blur. Andrew’s hands flew to Neil’s hips, gripping hard as Neil resumed rocking against him. Their dicks bumping together with every movement.
Neil made a broken noise in the back of his throat when Andrew reached down to wrap his fingers around both of them. Andrew’s other hand slid up Neil’s back under the hoodie, fingers splaying between his shoulder blades as he pulled him closer, his hips canting up to meet Neil’s every movement.
He kissed him again, deep and messy, swallowing Neil’s moans like they were something he could keep. Neil’s fingers tangled in Andrew’s hair, not tugging unless Andrew told him he could.
Neil pulled away just enough to gasp against his mouth. “I’m close.”
Andrew dragged his thumb over the head of Neil’s dick in quick circles, watching the way Neil’s face twisted with pleasure. Neil’s orgasm hit him once again, his back bowing as Andrew worked him through it. He dropped against Andrew’s chest, hiding his face in the crook of Andrew’s neck.
“Want you to cum too,” he murmured, voice wrecked and needy. Andrew knew he was asking for his permission, so he nodded. Neil started moving again, making sure their dicks were sliding together as he wrapped his fingers around them. It didn’t take much for Andrew to come with a low growl, especially when Neil was whispering soft praises against his ear.
They stayed like that for a while, tangled together on the couch with Neil curled against Andrew’s chest and Andrew’s arms wrapped securely around his waist. He pressed his face in Neil’s hair, breathing him in absentmindedly. For a moment he thought Neil might have drifted off entirely, lulled into sleep by the steady rise and fall of Andrew’s breathing and the muted sound of the television still playing forgotten in the background. But then Neil stirred slightly, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against the side of Andrew’s neck before pulling back just enough to look at him. Andrew found himself caught for a second by how peaceful Neil looked; warm, content, completely at ease in a way that still felt rare enough to notice even after all this time.
Neil lifted a hand to brush Andrew’s hair away from his forehead before leaning in to press another kiss to his lips, softer this time.
“I want you to fuck me,” Neil asked quietly. “Yes or no?”
Hearing Neil take the initiative like that was enough to leave something warm and unsteady unfurling quietly inside Andrew’s chest. Neil had not always been able to ask for things. Back to when they started exploring their feelings for one another, Neil had rarely voiced his wants at all, holding himself back. It was partly because he didn’t want to cross Andrew’s boundaries and partly because he genuinely believed he was not entitled to want anything in the first place, let alone ask for it.
For most of Neil’s life, wanting had come with consequences. When his mother’s care, wanting things, needing things, reaching for comfort or affection had only ever made him vulnerable to punishment, and over time Neil had learned to bury every need so deeply inside himself that eventually he no longer knew how to express them at all. Denying himself had become instinctive, easier than risking disappointment or pain.
It had taken years for them to get the point where Neil no longer looked frightened by the idea of asking for something he wanted. Neil had learned the difference between wanting and taking. Wanting something did not make him selfish, and asking did not mean demanding. Andrew’s ability to refuse had never been something Neil needed to fear.
“Bedroom,” Andrew said.
He hauled Neil up by the waist, one arm hooked under his knees and carried him upstairs like he weighed nothing. Neil’s giggles were cut short when Andrew dumped him onto the mattress with enough force to make the bedframe creak.
Andrew pulled his tank top over his head before reaching for Neil’s hoodie and lifting it off just as fast, leaving Neil sprawled beneath him with flushed skin and that familiar look in his eyes that always made something sharp twist in Andrew’s chest.
Neil shifted instinctively, spreading his legs to make room for Andrew between them. Andrew moved forward without hesitation, fitting himself into the space Neil offered him. Then, he leaned down and crashed their mouths together in a kiss full of heat and urgency. Their breathing mingled in uneven bursts as their bodies pressed flush together—bare chests meeting, hips slotting together naturally.
Andrew yanked the nightstand drawer open, rummaging for the strap, but Neil’s hand on his wrist stopped him. “I want to try something else,” Neil said, sounding almost shy. Which was how he knew Neil had been thinking about this for a while and was just waiting for the right time to ask him. Andrew arched a brow, waiting. Neil exhaled sharply through his nose before admitting, “I want you to fuck me with your dick.”
Andrew stilled. That was new. He had to admit his bottom growth was kind of impressive after being on T for over ten years, but Andrew wasn’t sure how much of it Neil could really feel. Still, the thought of pressing into Neil, of feeling his warmth, sent a jolt of heat straight to his dick.
Neil’s cheeks were flushed, his teeth worrying at his lower lip. “Is that okay?” Neil asked. Because he never took anything for granted. He needed to know Andrew was fine with it, that he wanted it as much as Neil did.
“Yes,” Andrew replied, but he was sure the desire in his gaze was enough to show Neil how much he really wanted it.
Andrew grabbed a pillow, placing it under Neil’s hips. He pushed Neil’s legs up, spreading him open. Andrew’s dick was aching where it brushed against Neil’s inner thigh. He rocked forward experimentally, catching the wetness of Neil’s wet folds and then brushing it against Neil’s.
Andrew grabbed his own dick, trying to align himself to Neil’s entrance, failing a couple of times before he was able to push inside. He thrusted forward at the same time Neil rocked down, and the sensation was something he couldn’t quite describe. He could feel the wet heat of Neil’s cunt around him, the way Neil throbbed around him.
“Drew,” Neil called out, his hips jerking erratically. “You feel so good.”
The stretch was minimal, but the pressure was perfect. Andrew twitched inside Neil, the sensation sharp and electric.
Andrew lifted two fingers toward Neil’s mouth and Neil opened for him immediately. His tongue brushed against Andrew’s digits before he drew them past his lips as he started sucking with intent, leaving them slick and damp while never once breaking eye contact.
Andrew pulled his fingers back, brushing them in circles against his hole. He slowly pushed inside, massaging Neil’s walls, until he reached his sweet spot. He hit it repeatedly, causing Neil’s back to arch off the mattress. The movement forced Andrew’s dick to slip out, while his fingers stayed inside, but he pushed it back in with ease.
"Touch yourself," Andrew said. Neil didn’t hesitate, sliding a hand between his legs to rub himself. Neil’s breath hitched, his hips tried to jerk up, but Andrew kept him in place with a hand on his lower stomach.
Soon, Neil was coming with a cry, pulsing around Andrew as he started squirting. Andrew looked down as the liquid spurted out, but he kept fucking him through it, his own breath coming in sharp bursts as Neil’s oversensitivity made him clench tighter.
When Andrew pulled out, Neil rolled his hips forward again, his dick dragging against Neil’s oversensitive one. Neil whimpered, his thighs twitching, but he didn’t push Andrew away.
Andrew knew better than anyone how much stamina Neil had, knew that he could keep going for hours without ever seeming exhausted, but there was something different tonight. It felt like the days apart had left him hungrier than usual, needier.
Not that Andrew was complaining.
Andrew did barely notice that he did not come this time. Neil always cared about Andrew’s pleasure more than he did about his own, so Andrew wasn’t really that surprised when Neil asked, “Fuck my face?”
Andrew’s grip on his thighs tightened, his pulse jumping at the words. Neil pushed up onto his forearms, his mouth already open. Andrew crouched over Neil’s face, grabbed him by his auburn hair and aligned himself with his lips.
“You can grab my thighs but don’t touch my ass. And keep your mouth only on my dick,” Andrew instructed.
Neil nodded eagerly, tongue darting out to lick at the head before wrapping his lips around him. Neil’s fingers tightened on Andrew’s thighs, holding him steady.
Andrew grabbed the back of Neil’s head, his fingers tangling in the mess of his hair once again and started fucking his mouth in slow thrusts. Neil’s tongue curled against the underside of Andrew’s dick with every movement. His eyes were fixed on Andrew’s face, his gaze hot and unwavering. Andrew tightened his grip, thrusting forward harder.
Neil moaned around him, the sound muffled. Andrew could feel the vibration of it, the sensation almost too much. His thighs trembled with the effort of holding himself up, breathing hard. Neil didn’t falter, his mouth working him with relentless precision. Andrew could feel the pressure building low in his stomach, pushing him more over the edge with every stroke of Neil’s tongue.
Andrew let out a groan as his orgasm crashed over him, his body bowing forward with the force of it. Neil helped Andrew through the aftershocks, his tongue lapping at the oversensitive flesh until Andrew’s thighs trembled with overstimulation.
Andrew’s grip on Neil’s hair loosened, his fingers sliding down to cradle his nape. Neil was breathless. Andrew could see the way his chest rose and fell rapidly, his skin flushed with exertion. Andrew’s dick twitched where it rested against Neil’s tongue, the sensation maddening. Neil’s tongue flicked out to lap at the head one last time before Andrew finally stepped away.
His thighs ached, his body still humming with the high of his orgasm. He let himself collapse onto the bed beside Neil, their shoulders pressing against one another. Neil’s fingers found his wrist, his grip loose. Andrew turned his hand over, letting Neil thread their fingers together. Neil’s palm was warm against his, his fingers calloused and familiar.
Neil shifted closer, his leg hooking over Andrew’s thigh, his skin warm and sticky with sweat and cum. Neil’s breath ghosted over his shoulder and Andrew turned his head to press a kiss to Neil’s forehead.