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Neil has grown up in a household that taught him not to trust anyone. It has always been do not share anything with people and only expect them to turn around and stab you in the back. Having a father who searched the world only to kill him and his mother, Neil had no problems following that and staying in line.
It’s only when he lost his mother that this changed. It took time and a new family in the form of the Foxes for him to open up, as surprising as it was for someone of his background to manage this. It also took Andrew. Andrew, always so sincere with his actions, Andrew, a shoulder to lean on, Andrew, the person who Neil knows, who will always be by his side as long as he’s welcomed there.
Being so close to the feeling of distrust himself, it has always been easy for Neil to read it in the line of anyone’s face. And Andrew might be hard to understand for most people, but Neil can just see the lack of trust in every one of his movements.
And being so close to this emotion, to this way of living, Neil did think Andrew would never fully trust anyone. It isn’t something he ever thought of reproaching to his partner, and it was okay if Neil was the only one to trust Andrew fully. As long as he knew Andrew could count on him, it was fine.
This might be why each time Andrew fully gives him his trust, Neil can’t help but keep it preciously in the palm of his hands, as if it was the most beautiful treasure he could ever hold between his fingers.
“Do you need to shower?” Andrew asks him as he enters the bedroom, and Neil can’t help but smile when he notices the lack of a pyjama shirt covering the expanse of Andrew’s chest and stomach, his forearms are also bare. “You look dumb,” Andrew adds, rolling his eyes and throwing the towel he has been using to dry his hair at Neil’s face.
It’s wet when it hits his forehead, and Neil grimaces slightly at it, discarding it on the ground. “I took one before you arrived,” he answers, sitting up on the bed and slightly opening his arms as an invitation. There’s a chance that he will be denied if Andrew doesn’t feel like being touched today, and it’s fine, because Neil only wants him to do stuff he’s comfortable with.
Andrew raises an eyebrow at him, but it only takes him a few seconds to make up his mind, reaching the bed with three steps. The mattress sinks slowly with the added weight, and soon enough Andrew sits on top of Neil. Without trying to be subtle, his hazel eyes glance down at Neil’s lips.
Before touching him, Neil doesn’t take any chance and asks, “Yes or no?”
He feels the shiver against his thighs more than he sees it when Andrew answers, “Yes.”
Permission granted, Neil buries his hands into blond hair and brings the other closer so he can press their lips together, the beginning of a soft kiss. It’s the kind of kiss they wouldn’t have allowed themselves at first, too much raw emotion in it, but recently, Neil always wants more of them. He loves every second Andrew lets him have it.
It only takes a slight pull at Andrew’s hair for him to bite down on Neil’s lower lip, sending a thrill down his spine. Neil slowly deepens the kiss as he lets his hands go down from blond locks to the bare expanse of Andrew’s neck and shoulders. It’s simple, a casual touch, something only him has access to.
The need to touch Andrew, to make him feel wanted and good, overpowers any need for his own pleasure, and Neil breaks the kiss to look directly at his boyfriend’s face. The way Andrew’s eyes follow his tongue when Neil licks over the moisture on them is telling.
“I want to touch you while you’re on your back, would that be fine?” The question isn’t louder than a whisper, matching the mood that’s setting on the bedroom now that the sun has gone down. Only the dim light of the lamp illuminates Andrew’s pale body.
Andrew moves before he gives his answer, settling down on his side of the bed, wet hair leaving droplets of water on the pillow case. “I’ll tell you if I want to stop,” he says easily. They have done this more and more frequently, but Neil can’t help the warmth spreading in his chest at the trust.
Without hurrying, Neil gets on Andrew’s side and pats the closest thigh to him for Andrew to open his legs, giving Neil space to settle down between them. He takes a few seconds to observe everything that is his boyfriend; the smooth line of his neck, the muscular arms, the soft and pink nipples, and the faint trail of hair that goes down his stomach and disappears under the edge of his pyjama pants.
He’s so beautiful, white skin on dark sheets, and Neil wants this knowledge to be something positive for Andrew. He wants him to know how attractive he is and take satisfaction in it. “You’re staring,” Andrew comments, but the slight itch in his voice confirms to Neil that everything he’s currently feeling is on full display in his eyes, bare for Andrew to see.
“Can’t help it,” Neil murmurs, leaning forward to kiss the soft skin of Andrew’s chest. He supports himself with one arm, using the other hand to caress Andrew’s sides. “You do that to me,” he teases, both knowing perfectly that Neil wouldn’t do that with anyone else.
Before Andrew can protest, Neil reaches for one of his nipples, giving it a slow lick. He loves the way it gets hard under his tongue, and the way Andrew’s body tenses up under him. Neil brings his thumb to his mouth and sucks on it, wetting it, and then he uses it to rub at the other nipple while he goes back to nibbling and licking at the first one.
Andrew’s breath itching in his throat is as satisfying as a moan to Neil, and when the pleasured man buries his hands into Neil’s locks it only encourages him further. He soon moves his mouth from the nipples to his stomach, and he kisses and sucks at the skin, leaving red marks behind.
Andrew’s hands tighten in his hair when he sucks on a particularly sensitive spot, and Neil can feel blood rushing south. When he reaches the elastic band of the pants, Neil uses his two hands to raise himself back on his knees. “I want to fuck you,” he says, looking directly at Andrew’s face. His cheeks and ears have that satisfying red tint, and if the bulge growing in Andrew’s pants wasn’t proof enough of his arousal, this definitely adds to it.
There is no hesitation when Andrew reaches for the drawer in the nightstand, pulling out the lube to hand it to Neil. “Yes,” he answers simply, and it is new enough to see his partner so sure of himself in this situation that Neil has to lean forward and kiss him hard.
Before he gets pushed away, Neil leaves a trail of kisses down Andrew’s neck and he makes sure to enjoy every bit of the shivers that take over his partner's body. Then he reaches the pants and underwear, and gets them off Andrew’s muscular legs, appreciating the view and his half hard cock. Neil will forever be grateful for this, being able to have his boyfriend’s fully naked body under him.
In the spur of the moment, Neil removes his shirt, uncaring about his scars, and bends down to bury his nose in the coarse pale hair, mouthing at the base of Andrew’s arousal. The latter’s reaction is automatic, his right hand reaching down for Neil’s hair and pulling, swearing under his breath.
“I thought you wanted to fuck me,” Andrew comments, the control forever present in his voice cut off by fast breathing. He gives another pull at Neil’s hair when he doesn’t get answered fast enough, and Neil makes sure to lick from the base to the tip before he does.
“I can do both,” he says, pushing at Andrew’s inner thighs so he opens up for him. Then Neil pours lube generously on his fingers, making them as slick as he can. “Tell me if I need to add more.”
Fingering Andrew makes him more of a mess than Neil first thought it would, and he loves every bit of it. The way Andrew’s body gives way to him, the bend of his back against the mattress, the fast breathing and how his mouth falls silently open at a good thrust. These are what Neil wants to catalogue in his head, this is what he wants the most, for Andrew to feel good, for him to feel safe.
Taken over by his thoughts, Neil takes in a sharp breath and makes sure that Andrew is stretched enough by the now three fingers before moving them out. He wants to be closer, now, and to feel Andrew against him. He wants to be able to feel every reaction Andrew’s body will have.
“Still fine?” Neil asks anyway. He knows Andrew enough to be aware that he’s into it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t make sure of it. He will never let Andrew let him be, he will never let Andrew let him assume he’s fine if he isn’t.
“Still waiting for you to fuck me,” is the breathless answer, and Neil is shivering all over under Andrew’s focused gaze.
He doesn’t need to be told twice, Neil quickly removes the rest of his clothes, and pours some more lube in his hand. Stroking himself to hardness isn’t something he gets used to doing, but the hungry way Andrew looks at his hand moving is what truly makes it arousing.
They both move together, making way for Neil to align himself and he doesn’t have to ask for Andrew to say, “Yes.” The push in is slow, and a whimper raises from his throat at how tight and warm Andrew is. Even so, he keeps his eyes open and looks at Andrew’s expression directly; he has one of his eyes closed, chest rising fast with his breathing.
Now that he’s inside, Neil leans forward, hands around Andrew, and he crushes their mouths together. The hands that find their way to Neil’s shoulders are warm and welcomed, and he knows nails might get into his skin later, but he looks forward to it. The kiss gets messy, with tongues and teeth, but after a little while Andrew moves his hips, making them both gasp.
The pace is easy to settle in, and Neil swallows every gasp Andrew makes. He himself is unable to hold back moans, but he knows Andrew loves it all, if only by the way he moves faster against him each time.
This gets easily to Neil’s head; all of Andrew’s skin against him, the friction of their bodies moving together, digging further in the mattress, and how Andrew bites down at Neil’s lower lip and lets his nails dig into his shoulders to hold himself from making louder noises.
This all screams of the trust Andrew has in him, of how good Neil can make him feel, and he finds himself lost in it.
When he’s close, Neil moves himself up a bit, and reaches down for Andrew’s throbbing cock to stroke it, trying to match the thrusts. It automatically gets Andrew to throw his head back in the pillow, and Neil strokes him faster at the view. “Fuck, you’re so, so beautiful,” he mumbles, unable to help it. And it’s maybe the pleased look Andrew gives him when he opens his eyes that pushes Neil over the edge, a deep moan going out of his mouth as he comes.
Even if his arms and thighs are shaky in the post-bliss, Neil moves out and leans down, breathless, thrusting his tongue in the slit of Andrew’s dick in a way he knows he likes. This with the strokes of his hand is enough to get Andrew to come, covering Neil’s mouth and chin with cum. Neil makes sure to look up at the pleasure painting over Andrew’s usual neutral mask, satisfaction taking place in his chest.
After a minute, they both look at each other, still panting, and Andrew reaches for him, bringing him up in his arms. “You really had to make a mess,” he mumbles, poking a finger in the cum covering Neil’s chin, observing with hazy but focused eyes when Neil licks his lips.
Neil hums, feeling himself untensing slowly, cozy in the other’s arms. He closes his eyes for a moment, listening to the heartbeat against his ear, fast and soothing.
“Don’t fall asleep, we need to clean up,” Andrew warns him, but there is no bite in his tone. He must be as bone-tired as Neil after this.
“Can’t we just be filthy until tomorrow?” Neil mumbles, unwilling to move from how comfortable he is.
But he has little hope when Andrew pokes his cheek again. “I have cum running down my thigh, and I’m not sleeping in it,” he deadpans, and Neil grimaces at the mention, remembering the mess that is his face right now. He also needs to brush his teeth again.
Hiding a yawn under his hand, Neil forces himself to get off Andrew and get up, offering his hand to his boyfriend. “Ok, fine. Let’s wash quickly.” And when Andrew is up too, he presses a kiss to his lips.
The look in Andrew’s eyes goes from disgust to something warm and softer, and he pushes him toward the door, before saying, “Stop being disgusting.”
Neil doesn’t let go of his hand, bringing him to the bathroom with him. He doesn’t want to stop touching Andrew. “Make me,” he teases, and the eyeroll he receives in exchange is worth it enough.
Neil wouldn't give this up for the world.