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"Goddamn, am I glad that's over..." Neal muttered, tugging sharply at the collar of the band uniform to loosen it. The shit he put up with, just to play music...
"Hey, dude -- go relax, eh?" Chavez clapped Neal lightly on the back, giving his shoulder a quick squeeze. "Mr. Franklin's orders, Upperclassman." He flashed Neal a bright grin, and Neal smiled slowly back. The band director wasn't a fool -- it was difficult enough to get Neal out marching on the football field without a fight, and he knew how much Neal loathed pep band duty.
"Cool, man," Neal replied, shifting his trombone case to his other hand as he scanned the home bleachers for any sign of Andy. "I'm gonna go get somethin' t'drink, all right? Later..."
Chavez grabbed Neal's trombone case from his hand. "I got this for you, man," he said, wearing the typical ingratiating smile he always seemed to have around his First Chair counterpart these days. "Bring me a Coke?"
He headed back up into the stands, leaving Neal shaking his head slightly. "Brown-noser..." he muttered under his breath, and wandered off toward the concession stand, tugging the jacket of his uniform open further. "Fuckin' stupid bullshit..."
There was a crowd of JV football players clustered around the nearest concessionaire, and Neal cocked his head curiously. Looks like their typical "hunt" formation, he thought to himself, his lips tightening with irritation. Why the fuck couldn't they just leave the freshmen alone?
Drawing closer, he could see inside their little circle of pain, and the familiarity of the slender, dark-haired boy in their midst was undeniable.
"Andy..."
Neal found his steps quickening, his shoulders squaring and his fists clenching. Fuck the band uniform, and fuck the good conduct policy -- nobody fucked with Andy without answering to his best friend.
Andy clenched his jaw and glared at the taller blond boy standing in his way. "Look -- just get the fuck out of my way! Didn't do a damn thing to you fucking jocks," he sneered. He hated this -- hated that he was so much smaller than ninety percent of the guys his own age, especially the jocks.
Of course, seeing him in his band shirt had basically placed a painted target on his back when he'd walked out of the concession booth and headed for the bleachers. He had worked the first half of the game; now he was allowed to go and sit down.
Well, he would have been sitting down, if it wasn't for the asinine group of JV players. He could feel them moving closer, maneuvering him toward the back gate out of the line of sight of the bleachers, and he felt his breath hitch.
He should have just stayed in the fucking booth.
"Hey!" Neal barked, shoving the nearest douche bag jock out of the way. "What the fuck's the problem, assholes?" There was slightest hint of a growl in his voice, and an air of unmistakable "don't fuck with me"-ness swirling around him, and he faced down the biggest and burliest of the football players without thought or hesitation.
Andy felt his heart speed up as Neal pushed his way into the circle. Just seeing his best friend, and feeling the rush of relief that hit him, had his hands trembling from the adrenaline that was still coursing through his body. He watched some of the guys immediately scurry away, but the blond, Scott, stood his ground; as did two of his other lackeys, or so-called friends. He couldn't remember their names -- they weren't important enough anyway.
Neal narrowed his eyes at Scott, drawing himself up to his full height as he stepped deliberately between the trio and Andy. "There somethin' you wanted t'say t'me, Scotty?" he snarled, his fists clenching and unclenching at his side. "Pickin' on the freshmen the only way you can feel like a big man with your little dick?"
Andy pulled Neal away from Scott, dragging him through the crowd. He knew that Neal wouldn't hesitate to shut Scott up, and Scott was too fucking stupid to know when to shut his own mouth. He handed Neal the Coke he'd been carrying with a sigh. "You want to go sit up in the bleachers?"
Neal kept looking back over his shoulder at Scott, mouthing obscenities and threats that he knew the other boy read well and understood, from the posturing and gestures the trio returned before they drifted back to the drink stand.
"Thanks. Yeah, let's..." Neal replied, finally turning his back to the jocks for good. "Are you all right, man?" he asked quietly, studying Andy's face and carriage out of the corner of his eye. "They didn't touch you, did they? Cuz I'll kill 'em if they fucked with you, man..."
Andy shook his head, refusing to rub his arm where Scott had grabbed it, pulling him off balance. "No. I'm fine. Let's go and find a seat..." He looked at Neal and smiled. "You sounded good out there."
Neal flushed slightly, letting out a derisive snort. "We sounded like a herd of drunk elephants, Skibby, don't even lie," he retorted, bumping the younger boy lightly with his shoulder. "And these uniforms make us look like giant douches out there..." He finally shrugged off his jacket, frowning at the matching gaudy trousers. "Fuck, I can't wait till marching season's over..."
Andy laughed and nodded. "Hey, I said that you sounded good out there, not that the rest of them did." He grinned cheekily. "And yes, I can't wait till marching season is over too -- no more concession stands."
"Next year, you won't be a freshman, either..." Neal murmured. "Hopefully that asshole will back off on you. Swear to God, I'll bash his fuckin' face in if he even lays so much as a fuckin' finger on you..."
Andy shrugged. "He's an asshole -- not worth getting into trouble over," he said softly. He knew, then, that he couldn't tell Neal about the problems that he had been having with Scott since the beginning of the year. He couldn't let Neal get kicked out his senior year.
"Not sayin' he ain't an ass, Andy..." Neal replied, shrugging slightly. "Just don't want him fuckin' with you, that's all..." He looked away, flushing a deeper shade of red. There was no way he could explain to Andy these...feelings he was having... The protectiveness, the sudden rushes of tenderness and affection out of nowhere, that there was no reasonable or justifiable explanation for...
"So, yeah - where do you wanna sit?" he rasped out, ignoring the sudden burr in his voice as he changed the subject. "With the rest of th'band, or...?"
Andy glanced out of the corner of his eyes at Neal and grinned. "Let's sit away from the band, and away from the jocks and preps. "
"Sounds good t'me..." Neal replied, the relief on his face easily read. He scanned the bleachers quickly, glancing up at the emptiness toward the upper rows. "How 'bout up top there?" he asked, doing a slight double-take and wearing a puzzled frown at Andy's grin. "That good?"
Andy nodded and started for the steps to lead them up to the top. "Sounds good. The further away from Scott and his crew, the better."
Neal clenched his jaw slightly at that, but kept his thoughts to himself. No sense in getting Andy upset. He followed his friend up to the top row, and flopped down on the bare wooden bench, leaning his back against the metal barrier behind them.
Andy leaned back as well. His shoulder brushed against Neal's, but he made no effort to move away. He let out a breath and slowly started to relax. "So. What are you going to do after the game?"
Neal shivered slightly as their shoulders brushed, but not from any chill in the air. He could feel Andy relaxing beside him and let out a soft breath, leaning into the other boy unconsciously. "Hmm... Well, thought about takin' my best friend with me to th'burger stand, gettin' some dinner... Then, maybe headin' home, maybe workin' on some tunes, I dunno..." Neal's hand slipped off his thigh to the wooden seat, barely a hairs'-breadth away from Andy's thigh.
Andy grinned. "Sounds awesome. Listen -- thanks for earlier. I was about to get my ass kicked," he said softly. He didn't want to tell Neal what they were saying, though... He knew Neal would go down and beat Scott's ass on sheer principle.
"Don't mention it," Neal murmured back. "But seriously -- if they had even dared t'lay a hand on you in front of me, they'd be fuckin' dead. Nobody fucks with my friends and gets away with it."
Andy let out a breath and opened his Coke. "Thanks..." he repeated softly, trying to calm his racing heart. He was being dumb. There was no reason he should be acting like this.
Neal bumped Andy lightly again, a soft, warm smile playing across his lips. "Seriously, Andy, none needed. I got your back." He lifted his hand from the bench to thump Andy's thigh with his fist, and let his hand slide slowly back down to the seat between them, swallowing hard as another tremor went through him. God, Tiemann, what the hell? he thought to himself.
Andy leaned back on the bleachers and nudged Neal's shoulder. "So, how did you manage to get out of the rest of the game?"
Neal ducked his head and shot Andy a sideways smile. "I'm a senior, man. Rank has its privileges, that's all," he chuckled softly. "B'sides, Chavez needs more practice than me."
Andy laughed. "He is such as cocky asshole..." He shook his head. "He still trying to one-up you on everything?"
Neal let out a low chuckle in response. "Tryin', yeah...not succeedin' at all, but tryin'."
Andy laughed. "Damn! Doesn't he realize there's no way in hell you can be replaced?" he teased.
Neal flushed even hotter, swallowing thickly as he forced another chuckle. "...If you say so, Skibby..."
"I know so." Andy grinned, liking that he had, for some reason, made Neal blush. "Sooo...I was writing the other night...got a good hook, I think. You sure you got time after this?"
"Always got time for you, Skibby..." Neal murmured, and paled suddenly as he thought about how that might have sounded. "I mean, I always got time to listen to your music, that is...yeah, um...that," he fumbled, his voice cracking slightly with stress. Gods, Tiemann, get your shit together! he chided himself.
Andy grinned as Neal fumbled his words, and wondered if maybe -- just maybe -- there was a chance that Neal was feeling some of the same insane things that Andy was. He pushed those thoughts to the back of his head and ignored them. It was doubtful -- he wasn't that lucky.
"So...do you think we could sneak out and head back to my house then? My parents are out with Lexi, Homecoming dress shopping in Oklahoma City...they won't be back 'til late tonight. "
"...Y'wanna leave now?" Neal asked, blinking at his best friend a moment.
Andy arched his eyebrow. "You going to get into trouble if we leave, and you aren't here with the rest of the band?" He bit his lip, watching Neal intently.
"...Uh...I...hmm..." Neal stammered, flushing a bright scarlet. Come the fuck ON, brain, work with the mouth here, he thought. Why was it suddenly so hard to get a fucking sentence out?
Andy arched his eyebrow. "Yes or no? Or we can just hang here for the rest of the game..."
"Fuck that shit!" Neal blurted out, and brought his hand up to cover his eyes. Crippled Christ on a crutch, Tiemann, get a fucking grip!
Andy had no idea what the hell was up with Neal, but he stood up, tugging at Neal's arm. "Come on. I'll make the decision for you -- we're leaving, and you're driving."
"Uh, okay?" Neal replied, standing up and blinking uncertainly at Andy. "Chavez has my 'bone?"
Andy quirked his eyebrow up at Neal. "Then stop by his house on the way home from mine and get it from him. As much of a pain in the ass as he is, even so, he wouldn't let anything happen to it."
"I know..." Neal swallowed hard, biting his lower lip a moment before nodding sharply to himself. "C'mon, let's get the fuck out of here before old man Franklin sees us..." Tossing his band jacket over Andy's shoulders, he started hopping down the bleacher benches, heading for the nearest exit ramp.
"Awesome." Andy couldn't help but grin. It never failed -- Neal always tried to be the reasonable one, and Andy always talked him into doing something else. He followed Neal quickly, not caring about the looks they were getting from some of the preps they passed.
Neal didn't give any of the kids they passed a second glance. His whole demeanor dared any of them to try and stop them from leaving, and he knew damn well no one would ever take him up on the implicit challenge. "You up for that burger first, or y'want that later?" he asked Andy as they landed at the bottom of the steps.
Andy bit his lip. "Later. Had pizza right before I got done working." They slipped out through a gap in the fence and headed for the parking lot.
"You ate before the half?" Neal snorted softly. "Did you eat a whole fucking pizza by yourself, then? I've never known you to turn down a free burger..."
Andy snorted and shook his head. "Nah...just not really hungry right now. Maybe in a bit, work up an appetite once we're at my house."
Neal choked on his soda, stopping in his tracks to double over in a coughing fit in the parking lot. Oh, dear Gods above, why did his mind pick today of all days to wallow in the gutter?
Andy stopped and turned around, smacking Neal on the back before rubbing his shoulders in a circle. "Damn, what the hell did you try to do? Inhale the whole damn bottle?" He laughed softly. "If you're that hungry, we'll go to the burger place first."
"I just swallowed wrong..." Neal coughed out, his cheeks on fire with sudden embarrassment as every phrase out of his mouth sounded like a double entendre to him. "I mean, it went down the wrong pipe... Oh, fucking Christ..." Ducking away, he dug quickly into his pocket for his car keys, fumbling to open his car doors before he said anything further.
Andy shook his head and walked around to the passenger side, waiting for Neal to unlock it. He had no idea what was going on with his best friend, but it was comical. "So are we stopping at the burger joint?"
"...No," Neal replied quietly, shaking his head. "If you're not hungry, we can go some other time." He slipped the key in the lock, popping the door open for Andy, and skittered around to the driver's side. He sank slowly into the seat, letting out a soft breath to calm the butterflies he refused to admit were fluttering in his stomach. Stop being ridiculous, Tiemann -- you're acting like a love-sick school girl... He froze in place a moment, the key halfway cranked in the ignition as the realization hit him full-on.
Don't be stupid, asshole, he scolded himself. You haven't known him long enough for that, even if he weren't straight as an arrow...man, you're both dudes.
Andy could see the change in Neal once he got into the car. He knew that he'd been pushing it with the double-talk, but he'd wanted to see what Neal's reaction would be...and he hadn't been disappointed. He wasn't sure what had made Neal choke, though, and as Andy went back over in his head what he had said, he flushed a dark red.
Yeah...no wonder.
Andy pulled his seat belt on and swallowed hard. Okay...time to pull himself together. "You think that we could get a music room during study hall...maybe work on some stuff during school, instead of being bored out of our minds?"
"I'm sure we could," Neal replied, backing carefully out of the parking spot and just barely missing the rear fender of the car behind him as he found his eyes drawn to Andy instead. "I'm one of old man Franklin's star pupils, after all -- pretty much anything I ask for, he'd give me...."
Andy grinned. "That sounds awesome...next time you think about it, ask him, and see if we can get the keys when it's empty."
Andy rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans and let out a breath, biting his lip as he tried to slow his heart. It was ridiculous that he was being like this, with Neal, his best friend. Shaking his head, he let out another breath and looked out the window.
"Are you going to Homecoming?" he asked softly, not sure he really wanted to know the answer, if Neal was going to go with some chick...
"Well, yeah," Neal replied, shooting Andy a strange look. "Gotta march in th'stupid fuckin' parade and the half-time show and all that shit..."
Andy swallowed and looked back out the window, dropping the subject. It was a stupid question, anyway -- freshmen weren't permitted to go with upperclassmen...and two guys together certainly wouldn't be allowed. He didn't even know why he had asked...probably to torment himself. There was no way in hell that Neal even thought about guys like that. He watched the scenery go by, and before he knew it, they were pulling into his driveway.
Neal held his breath a moment as Andy fell silent, waiting on and dreading the next question he was certain would leave Andy's lips... Only it never did, and Neal could feel the butterflies sinking in his stomach as he concluded that he was only dreaming it -- there was no attraction there between them all...at least not from Andy's end.
He wasn't sure how he felt about that, yet.
He put the car into park as they stopped in Andy's drive, and he killed the engine, biting his lip a moment. "Well, here we are," he murmured unnecessarily, pulling the key from the ignition. "So. What did you have in mind, song-wise?"
Andy let out a breath as he looked at Neal. "Show you what I have so far, and see if it sounds okay, or like shit?" He got out of the car and pulled his keys from his pocket, heading for the front door. He turned to wait for Neal as he unlocked the door, holding it open.
Neal crossed his wrists on the steering wheel and thumped his forehead a few times against them before sliding out of the car to follow Andy. Why the hell was everything suddenly so awkward between them?
Andy dropped the keys on the coffee table and let the dogs outside before he turned to Neal. "My mom got pop the other day -- said it was for you, since you are the only one that will drink that kind... It's in the fridge." He laughed. "And I have a T-shirt and sweats I got for Christmas last year that are still too big for me, if you want to change out of your band uniform..."
"Gods, yes!" Neal replied quickly, tugging at the buttons on the front of his shirt without any pretense of shame. "Gimme."
Andy laughed and headed down the hallway to his room. He dug through his closet, coming up with a pair of sweats that still had the tags attached, and a T-shirt that was bigger than the rest of his. He handed them to Neal and grabbed his song notebook. Stretching out on his stomach on the bed, he started to flip through it.
Taking the clothes from Andy with a grateful nod, Neal set them on the dresser beside the bed and dropped his button-down shirt to the floor. He picked up the t-shirt almost immediately to slip it over his head, acutely aware of his pasty-white skin, speckled all over with freckles and sparse ginger-blond hair.
As he pulled the shirt down, his eyes wandered to Andy on his belly on the bed, tracing down the graceful curve of Andy's spine, which tapered into his narrow hips and his rounded ass...
Fourteen, asshole.
He's fuckin' fourteen years old.
Swallowing hard, Neal turned back to the dresser and unzipped his pants, even more self-conscious of his body now. Even with the age gap between them, and Andy's apparent disinterest in him that way -- Neal still didn't want to disappoint.
Andy stared blankly at the page in front of him, watching Neal out of the corner of his eyes as his heart started to pound harder in his chest. Thank God he was laying on his stomach, or the game would have been given away...and then Andy would have had to explain himself, and that was something that he wasn't all that ready to do. He just hoped that Neal didn't notice that Andy hadn't turned a page since he had started to change clothes.
Oh, for fuck's sake, body...really? Neal gritted his teeth at the realization that his close study of Andy had left him with a rather obvious issue. He shifted slightly as he carefully worked the pants down past his hips, trying not to stand too much in profile if he could help it...
Andy bit his lip and swallowed hard, hearing his blood roaring in his ears as his face heated up. He turned his eyes back to the page and tried desperately to think of something that would simmer him down. He read the lyrics he'd written the other night, over and over and over again, trying to calm his breathing, before he finally dared to look back up at Neal.
Neal stepped carefully out of the uniform pants, holding the sweats in front of himself to disguise his "problem." He swallowed hard, turning his back to Andy as he bent over to step into the first leg.
Andy bit back the flash of disappointment as Neal turned his back to him. He shook his head and reached over to grab his pencil on the nightstand, jotting down another line before he looked back up at Neal. He heard the dogs barking to be let back in and sighed. "Be back in a minute. If you want to grab the sheet music, it's in my desk drawer..."
Neal exhaled a sigh of relief as Andy left the room. He settled the waistband of the sweatpants low on his hips, and grunted softly as he reached down and adjusted his junk. "Okay, desk drawer..." he murmured to himself, studying the object in question in the corner of the room. "Which drawer, though?"
Top drawers were usually pens and pencils and that kind of shit, he figured, and yeah, sure enough... He pulled out a few pencils and a berry-scented glittery-pink eraser, shaking his head with a snort at the eraser bit, and moved on to the next drawer, which is where he expected to find stationary and envelopes -- bingo again. So, maybe the bottom drawer...
He rifled through the pads on top, in hopes of finally finding it -- and found something more.
Oh, fuckin' hell, so much more...
Andy let the dogs in and made sure that they had food and water before he handed them some biscuits. He grabbed the pop from the fridge and headed back to the bedroom. The cool night air had helped clear his head, and his face wasn't fire-red anymore. He needed to get a hold on himself.
He walked back into the bedroom and found that Neal not only had the bottom drawer of his desk open -- he was flipping through one of Andy's..."special" magazines. Andy felt his heart lodge in his throat as he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying something stupid. He cleared his throat softly, his face hot. "The paper is in the top center drawer."
Neal startled, slapping the magazine shut and shoving it into the drawer where he'd found it. "Um, yeah! Okay..." he choked out, groping weakly for the handle of the indicated drawer while remaining where he was on the floor. His "situation" had returned, multiplied several times over, and there was no way he was going anywhere for a while.
Andy saw that Neal was floundering, and relaxed. There were no shouts of disgust or names called. He wasn't ashamed of having that stuff in his drawer -- his mother didn't know it was there, but his dad did...and they had had a long long talk about it shortly thereafter. He grabbed his notebook and sprawled out on the bed again, throwing a pillow at Neal with a grin.
"There -- make yourself comfortable and look this over for me -- see what you think," he said, tossing Neal the notebook. He wondered what Neal would do if he got up and grabbed the magazine that Neal'd been scanning, and started to look through it in front of him.
There was no way on Earth Neal would be able to "make himself comfortable" now, or anytime in the near future...not without pulling his cock out and jerking off, anyway; but that really didn't seem to be a viable option at present, no matter what types of audio-visual aids Andy might have squirreled away in a desk drawer...
He let out a strained grunt as he grabbed for the notebook Andy launched his way, and he propped the pillow across his thighs like a lap desk, setting the notebook on top, scanning the words without really comprehending them as his groin continued to throb.
Andy watched Neal look at the notebook, the pillow perched suspiciously in the older boy's lap, and wondered if Neal was having the same issues that Andy had been earlier. He bit his lip, debating his next move.
Slowly he got up and walked to the desk, opening the bottom drawer, and pulled out the new magazine he had snagged off of Lexi. He walked back over to his bed and laid down on his stomach, starting to flip through it while watching Neal out of the corner of his eyes again. His heart was stuck in his throat, waiting for Neal's reaction.
Neal's attempts at concentration were completely shattered as Andy pulled out the magazine and settled onto the bed with it. He swallowed audibly, his heart hammering in his chest as he somehow managed to get even harder. Andy was into dudes.
He was into dudes.
His fourteen-year-old best friend was into dudes.
Andy glanced up at Neal, catching his eye. "There are other issues in the drawer...this is just the newest one. You're welcome to look if you want to," he said softly, his voice thick with nerves and a little hint of something else. He bit his lip, studying Neal a couple of seconds before he turned back to the magazine. One picture in particular caught his eye: a red-headed guy, standing with nothing but boots and a cowboy hat on.
Neal choked back a groan, gripping the notebook so tightly that he was crumpling the edges. "No, I think I'm good..." he croaked out, closing his eyes as his cheeks turned a vivid shade of scarlet and he broke out in a sweat. Good God, he would never walk again, for real...
Andy tipped his head to the side, looking from Neal to the magazine. "Do you have a cowboy hat?" he wondered aloud, and gave Neal a sideways glance.
"No hat...but I got boots," Neal managed to sputter out, his cheeks so hot they felt like they were on fire.
"You know, though..." Andy murmured, "if you are that uncomfortable, go to the bathroom and jerk off." If Neal had picked that moment to look up, he would have seen a mischievous glint in Andy's eyes.
Neal choked again, coughing so hard he thought he might bring up a lung. God damn it, Tiemann, way to be subtle...
"Yeah, um...gimme a couple minutes first, okay? Seriously, don't think I can walk, here..."
Andy buried his head head in his arm and snorted. He shifted slightly on the bed, trying to alleviate the tightness in his own pants, and wished he had sweatpants on. Then, he could just slip his hand past the waistband and grip himself...
He closed his eyes tightly, his cock throbbing painfully at the thought.
"Yeah...not the only one," he mumbled, and then grinned and turned the magazine around, holding it up so that Neal could see it. "Boots like these?"
Neal's breath caught in his throat as he saw the picture Andy'd been studying for the past five minutes. "Oh, Jesus fuck..." he groaned, scrubbing his face with his hands, trying to keep from crying. So fuckin' surreal...
"...Pretty close t'them, yeah..." he managed.
Andy arched his eyebrow at Neal and laid the magazine back on the bed, shifting again restlessly as he flipped the page. "If you aren't going to the bathroom, then I am, 'cause I don't know how much longer I can take these pants," he said, forcing a casual tone. Still flipping through the magazine, he paused at a picture of the same red-headed guy -- this time leaning back on a bale of hay, on a saddle blanket, gripping the base of his cock, with his head tipped back. He looked at Neal out of the corner of his eyes, wondering what Neal would look like.
"Then take 'em off!" Neal rasped out, his voice rough and gravelly from the strain of the past hour. "It's your fuckin' house, we're both guys, nothin' I haven't seen b'fore..."
Andy prided himself on the fact that he had never come in his pants...but hearing that tone in Neal's voice had him right there on the edge, and he drew a shaky breath. He cocked his eyebrow up at Neal and knelt up, an elbow still on the bed as he undid his fly with an audible moan. Without a second's hesitation, his hand was inside his boxers, wrapping around his cock as he started to jerk off. He bit down slightly on his forearm, his forehead rubbing against the bedspread beneath him as his eyes shifted over to Neal.
...Well.
...That was unexpected.
Neal was panting openly for breath and fighting for control, staring wide-eyed at the other boy. "Can't see," he muttered hoarsely, shifting his position on the floor.
Andy moaned loudly, his hand moving faster over his leaking cock. "Then come here," he rasped out huskily, almost surprising himself at the tone of his voice.
Without a second thought, Neal was on his hands and knees, crawling to the side of the bed, lips parted, eyes never leaving Andy.
Andy turned his head, laying it on his arm so that he could look at Neal. His eyes were blown wide and glassy. "Want to see you too," he whispered, his voice shaky with the effort of holding back.
Neal whimpered faintly, sitting back on his heels as he inched the waistband of the sweats down. His cock bobbed as it was freed from its prison, jutting and straining forward proudly, its reddened head swollen and glistening with a streak of pre-come at the tip.
"Show me yours, Andy..." Neal rasped out, his voice nearly a growl.
Andy gasped harshly, his entire body flushing as he moaned. He rolled onto his back and pushed his pants down, his hand still gripping his copiously-leaking cock. He turned his head again so that he could watch Neal jerk himself off.
"Oh, fuck me..." Neal groaned, his eyes nearly black with pupil as he stared at Andy's body. Exactly what he'd been picturing, Jesus-fuckin'-Christ... Down to the happy trail disappearing into the thatch of coarse, dark hair curling around the base of Andy's dick...
He gripped himself tightly, drawing an audible breath, trying not to imagine what those hairs would smell like, would feel like tickling his nose, with Andy's dick down his throat...
Andy moaned loudly at Neal's tone, his back arching as his hips thrust up into his hand. "Jesus...fuck...so close...gonna come," he whimpered, his body hot and his face flaming as he turned his head again to watch Neal. God, there were so many thoughts rushing through his head...he could barely comprehend what was happening right there in front of him.
His tongue darted out from between his parted lips, wetting them, not even aware that he had done it before he closed his eyes as another wave of intense pleasure rushed through him. So close...
Neal crept closer, panting hard as he fought for control of himself. Leaning over, he took a deep breath of Andy's musky scent, and stuck out his tongue, licking up the pre-come oozing from the other boy's slit. "Holy fuckin' shit..." he groaned, sinking back onto his heels, staring intently at Andy's hand, so focused that he never heard himself whisper, "come on my face..."
Andy's hips snapped up hard into his hand, his come spurting out in thick ropes that hit Neal's cheek and neck. "Oh fuck..." he groaned, gripping his cock hard as he rode out the orgasm ripping through him. He was so completely out of it that he wasn't sure if Neal had actually licked the head of his cock or not, but the tremors wracking his body were enough proof for him.
Neal groaned softly as Andy's come landed on his cheek and slid down, cooling quickly on his skin. "Holy fuck..." he breathed out, closing his eyes as he shivered slightly.
Andy's hand stilled but he kept it around his cock. "Neal...come here..." he whispered.
Neal opened his eyes slowly, keeping them locked on Andy's hand around his dick as he crawled closer, licking his lips unconsciously.
Andy reached for Neal with his free hand, wrapping it around the back of Neal's neck, pulling him up. "Kiss me...and come," he whispered.
Neal instantly obeyed, attacking Andy's mouth hungrily as he stroked himself hard and fast. He pushed his tongue past Andy's lips, groaning loudly into the other boy's mouth as his spine stiffened, his cock jerking in his fist as he came.
Andy kept kissing Neal, never getting enough. One hell of a first kiss, and it was leaving him begging for more.
Neal finally pulled back when his vision was starting to darken at the edges from lack of oxygen. He laid his head against Andy's thigh, panting softly with his eyes closed again, fighting to regain his breath. "Holy shit..." he whimpered softly, trying to relax the death grip he had on his own cock.
Andy laughed softly, panting just as hard as Neal was. He moved off of the bed, letting Neal's head rest carefully on the edge of the mattress. Andy rooted through his closet for sweats and a T-shirt before he kicked his pants off and pulled off his shirt, wiping himself off before throwing it at Neal with a grin.
Neal watched Andy through barely-cracked eyelids as the younger boy got dressed, and grabbed for the T-shirt as Andy tossed it his way. Instead of wiping his face, though, he tucked the shirt under his head, sniffing it deeply.
Andy watched Neal and smiled softly, shaking his head. He grabbed his pop and opened it, taking a long drink to ease his dry throat, and slid down onto the floor next to Neal, his back against the bed. His gaze drifted from the top of Neal's head to his feet and back up to Neal's face, still streaked in two places with Andy's come. Picking up the edge of his shirt, Andy wiped Neal's cheek before he scooted closer to him, resting his head on Neal's shoulder.
Neal stirred slightly, shifting closer to Andy with a low sigh. He hummed softly, turning his head to brush his lips feather-light over Andy's cheek.
Andy smiled and let out a slow breath, his hand resting on Neal's stomach. "Definitely not what I had in mind when I suggested leaving the game...but oh my fuck, I'm glad that we did," he said softly.
"...'S one way t'build up an appetite..." " Neal murmured, shifting slightly to touch Andy's cheek, studying the younger boy's eyes.
Andy laughed softly and kissed Neal's shoulder, his eyes not leaving Neal's. He wasn't sure what this meant for them -- he just hoped that Neal didn't think that this was something that he would do with just anyone.
Neal smiled gently, running his thumb lightly over the arch of Andy's cheek. "Love hearin' you laugh..." he whispered, and leaned in, brushing his lips across Andy's, soft and slow.
Andy's eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into the kiss, his heart racing, feeling like it was going to burst out of his chest. He returned the kiss just as slow, his tongue swiping across Neal's bottom lip experimentally.
Neal made a soft sound in his throat, parting his lips as he sighed into the kiss, giving Andy permission.
Andy went with what felt good, going slow and memorizing every sensation as he deepened the kiss. When he finally couldn't breathe, he pulled back and let his forehead rest against Neal's, his eyes closed as he inhaled deep breaths.
Neal draped his arm over Andy's shoulder, drawing the younger boy closer as he closed his own eyes a moment. "Next time, though..." he whispered, "I wanna taste you..."
Andy shivered. "You keep talking like that, and you won't have to wait long." He reached up, touching Neal's cheek. "What is this...with us...?" he asked, holding his breath.
Neal studied Andy seriously. "What do you want it to be?" he replied quietly, running his fingers through Andy's hair with a gentle touch.
Andy leaned into Neal's hand and breathed in deeply before opening his eyes. "I want...you...and me..." He paused, biting his lip. "I want us to be together," he whispered, his eyes guarded, trying to hide how much he wanted this.
Neal leaned in again, placing a soft kiss on Andy's bitten lip. "Then I think we should give it a try," he murmured against Andy's mouth. "We've got plenty of time..."
Andy smiled, murmuring back a soft "yeah...we do." He moaned as he started to really get into the kiss...he just couldn't get enough.
It was only when he heard his dad's car pulling into the driveway that he pulled away, his eyes wide. "Oh shit! They're home early!" He removed a clean shirt from his drawer, pulling it on before grabbing the dirty T-shirt to throw it in the hamper beside the bathroom door. Seeing the magazine still on his bed, he grabbed it and stuffed it into his desk drawer, slamming it shut.
Neal let out a soft curse, tucking himself back into the sweatpants carefully. "Damn 'rents, always cock-blockin'..." he muttered darkly, leaning his head back against the edge of the mattress as he ground the heels of his hands against his eyes.
Andy grabbed the air freshener, grinning at Neal. "Don't want them to come in here and smell come." Laughing, he grabbed the sheet music and handed it to Neal, tossing a pencil down beside him. He stretched out on the floor in front of Neal and started writing under the words he had jotted down earlier, just as he heard the front door open.
Lexi entered first, complaining loudly about the entire trip being a waste of time because she hadn't found a dress. Andy looked at Neal, rolling his eyes. "She is such a spoiled brat."
He was finally starting to calm down and breath normally.
"Yeah, she's kind of a diva, ain't she," Neal replied softly, looking up from drawing a grand staff on the staff paper in front of him, smiling back at Andy. "Good thing you ain't that insufferable."
"Andy? Is that Neal's car in the drive?" Carol's voice carried down the hallway as she drew nearer. "Are you boys in here?"
Andy laughed and shook his head at Neal. "Thank God for that. In the bedroom, Mom..." he said just as she peeked her head in the doorway. "How was shopping?" he asked with a cheeky grin.
"Lexi hated everything she tried on, even though there were about seven dresses that she looked stunning in," Carol replied, nodding to Neal in greeting. "What are you boys up to? Is the game already over, or did you both duck out early?"
Neal shot Mrs. Skib a quick smile before turning his attention back to the staff paper, his face reddening slightly.
Andy shook his head. "We left after half-time; after I got done working at the concession stand... Stupid jerk Scott and his gang started stuff again." His mother knew all too well who Scott was, because of the various bruises he had sent home with Andy.
Neal looked up sharply at Andy's words, his grip tightening on the pencil in his hand. "...That shit's gonna stop, Andy," he said quietly.
Carol raised an eyebrow at Neal's language, but nodded at her son's words. "Somehow, I'm not surprised," she replied, shaking her head. "How did you get out of it this time?"
Andy flushed at Neal's words. He could still feel his heart pounding in his chest as he glanced over at Neal and then back up at his mom, ignoring her question as he changed the subject. "Did you bring home dinner? Would it be okay if Neal stayed over tonight? We started working on some songs the other day, and we are on a roll."
Carol smiled warmly, figuring that Neal must have had something to do with Andy's rescue. "If it's okay with Dana, it's okay with me, Andy," she replied. "And no, we didn't bring home dinner, but I have a roast I was going to put in -- should still be plenty to go around, even with two teenaged boys in the house..."
Neal shot Andy a sideways glance, and looked up at Carol. "I'll call my mom and get her okay, Mrs. Skib. It shouldn't be a problem..."
Andy grinned. "Sounds good! Lemme get the phone and Neal can call..." He scrambled to his feet, trying to keep his enthusiasm under control. He knew his mom was going to ask about what happened at the game, and he really didn't want Neal to know he was having that much trouble with Scott in and outside of school.
Neal shook his head slightly and turned his attention to the staff paper in front of him. He scribbled in a quick time signature and a key signature before plotting out the run of notes suddenly swarming through his head as he glanced at Andy's words, humming them to himself as he finished each phrase.
Carol led the way into the kitchen and halted with her hand on the phone, studying her youngest child solemnly. "What happened this time, Andy?" she asked, keeping her voice low and quiet. "What did he say, and what did he do?"
Andy bit his lip again. "The usual -- calling me names, yanking me around..." He rubbed his arm for the first time that night, feeling the bruises. He was glad that it had been his left arm, and that Neal hadn't noticed it earlier. "He was trying to get me behind the bleachers when Neal showed up." He looked down, his face flushing hot as he remembered the words that had come from Scott's mouth.
Carol's lips thinned dangerously. "Why did he want you behind the bleachers, Andy?" she asked softly, her voice full of tender concern.
Andy shrugged. "Probably to beat the shit out of me, like he keeps threatening to do."
There was no way in hell he was going to tell his mom that Scott had told him to get on his knees and show what a good cock sucker he was.
Carol waited a moment, still watching Andy closely. His forced nonchalance was setting off her mother's "sixth sense" -- she knew in her gut that Andy was holding something back, out of fear, or shame, or both...but if he didn't feel comfortable talking to her about it, she wouldn't pry any further. "Have you spoken to your father about it?" she asked instead.
Andy ducked his head. "No, not yet," he said softly. He knew his mom hadn't bought his story, but it wasn't something that he could just tell her...
"Andy...please do," Carol murmured, her heart twisting in her chest. She hated seeing her little boy being bullied, and not being able to help.
Andy sighed and nodded. "I will...later, just not now...got to get the phone to Neal," he murmured, and walked away, passing his dad in the hallway as he departed.
Bob walked into the kitchen and looked at his wife. "What's going on? Neal bring Andy home from the game?"
Carol nodded, sighing softly as she leaned into her husband, resting her head on his chest. "Andy had another run-in with that bully," she murmured, sliding her arms around Bob's waist. "I don't think he's telling me the whole truth of what happened, though. I'm worried about him, Bob."
Bob sighed. "What did he say happened?"
Carol tightened her arms around Bob. "He said that Scott was trying to get him behind the bleachers... Andy says that Scott was probably going to beat him up, but there was something else he wasn't saying..."
Bob could feel his heart drop to his stomach. "Okay, I'll talk to him... If Scott is saying the sort of thing to Andy that I think he's saying...I will be calling the school, and Scott's parents, telling them to get him under control or we'll press charges."
Carol nodded, kissing the underside of her husband's jaw. "Thank you, love," she whispered. "Neal is staying the night, by the way. I need to get the roast in the oven for dinner, Lexi is sulking in her room, and the boys are in Andy's room. We need to find the air mattress for Neal..." She pulled away from Bob, going to work on dinner as she spoke.
Bob sighed. "I'll talk to Andy later. Is there anything you need me to do to help with dinner, or should I send Lexi out? Tell her that she has to help, or we aren't going to take her back to look for a dress?" he grinned.
Carol grinned back. "Send Lexi my way -- the boys are all yours. Make sure they're behaving."
Bob laughed and nodded. "Will do. I'll send Andy to get the air mattress and blankets...and I don't think we'll have any problems with them. Neal keeps Andy's head on straight -- Hell, Andy doesn't even argue as much with Lexi when Neal is over!" He headed back the hallway and stopped when he heard Neal and Andy talking.
----------
Andy walked into the bedroom and handed Neal the phone. "Sorry...I know I didn't ask if you wanted to stay before I volunteered you... You don't have to if you don't want to," he said softly, suddenly feeling unsure of himself.
Neal glanced up from the sheet music, his mouth hanging open slightly as he peered at his friend. "I wouldn't have said I'd call my mom if I didn't want to stay, Andy," he replied quietly, holding out his hand for the phone. "It's all right..."
Andy sat back down next to Neal and leaned into him. "Sorry...just...edgy, after talking to my mom..." he whispered. "She wanted to know what happened at the game."
Neal chewed slightly on his lower lip, holding the pencil to the paper without moving it. "What did you tell her?"
Andy pulled his legs in tighter to his chest, letting his head rest on his knees as he looked at Neal. "I told her that he was up to his usual shit...that he was trying to get me behind the bleachers to rough me up more," he whispered.
Neal cocked his head at Andy, his eyes wandering the other boy's face. "And how, exactly, was he gonna do that?" he asked softly.
Andy's eyes closed as he buried his face in his arms. "Make me get on my knees and show him what a good cock sucker I am," he whispered, ashamed that he couldn't do anything more than just run when he saw Scott and his crew.
Neal's blood ran cold in his veins at Andy's words. "...I'll kill the son of a bitch," he said quietly, his tone deadly with intent. "I will fuckin' kill him."
----------
Bob pulled back from Andy's doorway and clenched his jaw. Turning, he walked back to the kitchen and grabbed the phone book, flipping through the pages furiously, trying hard to calm down. He slammed the book shut in frustration and ran his hand through his hair. "Carol, do we have a more up-to-date phone book?"
"Have you checked the study?" Carol asked, looking up from cutting the vegetables for the roast. "Lexi, keep stirring that broth, okay? Why do you need the phone book, Bob?"
Gesturing for Carol to follow, Bob walked to the study and held the door open for her to enter before shutting it. "I overheard Neal asking Andy what happened at the game. What Andy said..." Fuming, he shook his head as he nearly tore his desk apart. "I need that punk's parents' number...they are going to be told what their son has been doing!"
"What did he say?" Carol asked softly, moving a few books on the desk to reveal the newest phone book for her husband.
Bob had to pause a second, gripping his desk as he closed his eyes, inhaling a slow breath before he looked up at his wife. "Scott sure as hell wasn't going to rough Andy up -- he told Neal that Scott had said he was going to make Andy get on his knees and show him..." He clenched his jaw, so furious he was unable to even get the words out.
Carol's eyes widened slightly. Her husband didn't have to finish his sentence for the intent to be clear, and her heart clenched for her youngest child.
Bob stood up and pulled Carol into his arms. "We'll take care of it. And he has a good protector in Neal...I'm glad he has such a strong friendship with him."
Carol nodded into Bob's chest, keeping her concerns to herself. What would happen next year, when Neal was graduated and gone?
Bob sighed. "Go and make sure that Lexi isn't burning anything," he said softly. "I'm going to call. "
Carol stepped back and gave Bob a soft kiss on the cheek. "Good luck," she murmured, and slipped out the door, heading back to the kitchen and her eldest offspring, still stirring the broth carefully.
---------
Andy shook his head. "No, Neal -- he isn't worth it," he rasped out. "Shouldn't have told you anyway...just forget it, I can take care of myself."
Neal twisted his body sharply to face Andy, cupping the younger boy's face in his hands. "He might not be worth it, but you are," he replied, putting the full force of his tangled emotions behind his words. "You're not taking on a pack of upperclassmen by yourself. He's gonna leave you alone, I swear it."
Andy nodded, his eyes wide -- and he believed Neal. Without thinking, and forgetting that not only were his mom and dad home, but his bedroom door was wide open, he leaned in, kissing Neal softly.
Neal threaded his fingers gently into Andy's hair, slowly deepening the kiss. The only thought on his mind was Andy, and keeping him safe.
Andy let out a shaky breath against Neal's mouth before he pulled back. "I should have said something...but I didn't want to be the weak one."
Neal shook his head, instinctively pulling the other boy into his arms. "Being younger and smaller than him doesn't make you weak, Andy..." he murmured into the other boy's ear. "And it's certainly no fuckin' excuse for him to treat you like shit and threaten to rape you..." Neal choked up on his words, tightening his arms around Andy as he thought of what might have happened if he hadn't shown up when he did. The image of Andy on his knees with that motherfucker's dick in his mouth... The rage he felt could barely be contained.
Andy wrapped his arms around Neal and held tight. "Just don't get caught," he whispered, knowing that there was no way he was going to be able to stop Neal from going after Scott.
"I won't, I promise..." Neal whispered back, his tone as fierce as the emotions burning through him at the feel of Andy in his arms. For the first time in forever, holding someone like this felt good, felt right, and there was no way in hell he was going to give this up.
Andy let out a slow breath and relaxed into his arms. "And don't let him hurt you," he rambled on.
Neal swallowed thickly, bringing a hand up to cradle Andy's head to his shoulder. "Don't worry about me, Andy," he murmured into the younger boy's ear. "There's nothing he can do to hurt me now."
Andy pulled back and looked at Neal. "Mom wants me to talk to Dad about it...but I don't know," he shrugged.
Neal touched Andy's cheek gently, his eyes sweeping over the other boy's face. "What do you think will happen?" he asked softly.
Andy shook his head. "I don't know...I mean...he was the one that found my magazines, but I don't know if he told my mom. "
"Does it matter?" Neal asked softly. "What's the worst that could happen?"
Andy looked down. "That he would be ashamed that I got put in that position...that I let it happen." It was so much easier to pretend that nothing was happening.
Neal frowned slightly. "Why would he be ashamed of you? Andy -- this isn't your fault..."
Andy sighed and shook his head. "I don't know...because if I didn't like guys, this wouldn't be a problem?" He stood up and let out a breath. "I'm going to get your air mattress. Can we talk about this later?" he asked softly.
Neal nodded slowly, squinted up at Andy from the floor. "Okay, Andy, no problem..." he replied, and watched Andy slip out the door.
Neal leaned back against the side of the bed, closing his eyes. Monday morning, he was gonna go looking for Scott...and he was gonna put his foot so far up the jock's ass that Scott would be able to lick the bottom of his boot from the inside. Nobody messed with Neal's friends, ever...
...And especially not Neal's boyfriend.
Letting out a soft breath, Neal smiled.