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He’s been watching you when you sleep.
Assuming you don’t notice, assuming you don’t wrench your eyes open to peek at the mirror, seeing him standing there in the doorway.
But you notice, and you catch him staring at you around the house by day, too. He’s not exactly hiding it. Not even when his brothers or Smurf are there.
He’s always had the aura of a lurking predator, though you’re pretty sure he’s harmless to people in his close circle - the way he’s suddenly started looking at you though is making you question if you’re still part of that circle.
You know he’s usually on antipsychotic medication… Maybe he’s stopped taking it?
And maybe he’ll stop looking at you altogether if you lose your sleep shorts and tanktop and lift your blanket over your hips to expose your bare ass to him at night. To make him uncomfortable enough to ease off.
It doesn’t occur to you that it’d be a dumb decision if he isn’t taking his meds.
So, since it’s summer anyway, you strip before getting into bed. It’s toasty enough in your room to get rid of the blanket, too.
Like clockwork, an hour after you’ve excused yourself to bed, you hear the doorknob being slowly turned, then the dim light from outside falls through the crack. And then you see his shadow on the wall ahead of you.
You pretend to be asleep, breathing evenly, but when he doesn’t move, your blood freezes in your veins.
You hear him take a deep breath in through his nose and exhale shakily through his mouth. A slight panic begins to set in.
Watching his shadow step closer to your naked form, on your stomach with one leg hooked up at a ninety degree angle, you know he can see everything.
Your instinct is to roll over and pull the blanket over yourself in the process, but something within you makes you stay still.
Pope must have noticed you holding your breath, but he doesn’t do anything about it. He bends down and the mattress shifts under his weight as he sits beside you.
Your heart is beating out of your chest and you quickly close your eyes and force yourself to keep breathing.
Fuck.
He’s breathing audibly, but he doesn’t touch you. He just sits there and watches over you, while he gets his fill of looking at the most intimate parts of your body in the low lighting.
You don’t sleep much that night. He sits there for hours, until the first rays of the morning sun tickle your nose.
At some point during the early morning hours you realize he isn’t going to touch you and drift off, but you’re running on fumes when it’s time for breakfast.
Dressed in your usual sleep clothes, you join Pope, J and Smurf in the kitchen and chug some coffee while she serves you a loaded plate of waffles.
Pope… Andrew is still staring at you.
J heads off to school and Smurf who-knows-where for business after breakfast, but he stays.
He follows you to the couch after he’s cleaned the kitchen, sitting down and looking even more tense than usual.
“Why do you keep sta-” you begin, but he cuts you off.
“I know you were awake last night,” he rasps, not looking at you anymore. He’s looking straight ahead, while you sit around the corner of the sectional to his right.
“Okay? Sorry? You were being a creep. I was scared.”
He snaps his head around to look at you, alarmed.
“Oh. I… I can stop doing it.”
You don’t know what to say. No guilt and no apology for creeping on you, only a little bit of remorse for seriously scaring you. Is that a good sign?
“Andrew… are you taking your meds?” you ask, shifting closer to him and looking at him like a concerned parent.
“Yes.” he responds, clearly telling the truth. That calms your nerves about the whole thing considerably.
You smile.
You’ve always had a soft spot for him since you first found shelter under his mother’s roof years ago.
This recent development with him watching you obsessively started pretty much right after something that happened during a party at the house a while ago.
You were talking to a friend of Craig’s, Isaiah, flirting heavily to get some free weed out of the interaction, when he spotted Andrew over your shoulder, staring.
About half an hour later, you sat on the edge of the pool with Isaiah and smoked, feet in the water, when he lowered his voice and asked about ‘Craig’s creepy brother’.
You grinned, taking the joint from him and hitting it, then stubbed it out on his bare knee, causing him to yelp and flinch and flail into the pool.
Standing up and relighting the joint, looking down at the horrified, soaked guy in the chlorinated water, you frowned at him.
“Watch your fucking mouth.” you warned, proceeding to stomp off and choosing not to care about the aftermath.
Craig understood when you explained it to him later.
You didn’t know that Andrew had seen and heard everything, though it was obvious in hindsight that he would have, always circling the place and making sure people didn’t break shit in the house.
You crawl close to him on the couch and curl up with your head in his lap, sighing deeply. He’s still tight as a bowstring, even his jaw is clenched as he looks down at you, meeting your gaze.
“You could’ve just talked to me. I’m not a stranger.” you say, Andrew’s body heat lulling your tired head into a sleepy haze.
He grunts in response and you grin, laying your palm flat on his chest, feeling the soft fabric of his favorite shirt, the navy blue one with the polka dots. You think he looks good in it.
He exhales shakily again, just like when he saw you naked last night. You gently shush him, which only makes the tension in the room crackle more.
“Relax, Andrew. You can touch me. I’m not scared of you. Not really.”
He looks a little confused at that, because a moment ago you said that he scared you.
You sigh, trying to find the right words to explain it to him from your perspective.
“Do you understand that it upset me, you sitting with me while I’m naked and asleep? Imagine you’re asleep, balls out and ass up, and a big, strong body builder does that to you.”
He swallows and looks at you wordlessly for a good ten seconds before he nods once.
“Yes. Sorry.” he says remorsefully.
“Thank you. I said you can touch me.” you respond, grabbing his fists and loosening his fingers, kissing each knuckle.
He’s stunned. All this time you’ve spent together, all the talks you’ve had, you’ve never quite gotten through to him like this.
A simple touch of your soft lips to his violent hands and he’s melting.
“What about you and Craig?” he asks, stroking your hair with his left and holding on to your hip with his right hand.
You chuckle.
“That was one time. I don’t wanna be part of his mess. I hate cocaine.”
He snorts, and when you peek back up at him he’s smirking a little, making you grin.
“No jealous boyfriend to come for you if you fuck me.” you say matter-of-factly, and he nearly chokes, no longer smirking but blushing hard and averting his gaze for a second.
“Fuck you?” he asks, voice thin with something you can’t identify.
“Yes, Andrew. Do you like me?” you ask, reaching up to place your hand on his cheek, feeling yourself getting wet when he nuzzles into your touch with a soft sigh.
“Yes. I do.” he admits and the relief of finally saying it makes the tension in his shoulders melt away.
You smile at him again and shift to press a kiss to his stomach. He’s firm and strong and could overpower you so easily, but he’s touching you like you’re going to break if he’s not careful.
“Do you… like me too?” he asks, reddish hazel eyes full of hope as he fixes them on yours.
“Yeah, I like you a lot, Andrew. You’re very important to me. I just wish you’d talk to me instead of sneaking around. You don’t need to do that.” you assure him, slowly realizing the weight of the words, the implication behind them.
Getting involved with another Cody brother could complicate things. Especially Pope.
You don’t know if Smurf would take it well if you claim her most loyal son for yourself.
As grateful as you are to her for taking you in when you needed help, you suspect there’s something psychosexually fucked up going on with her and you’re getting increasingly frustrated with how she treats Andrew in general.
But none of that could keep you from doing this, if he lets you.
“Okay.” he says, still restraining himself immensely as he keeps stroking your hair.
“I’m tired, Andrew. I was awake all night, for no particular reason. Going back to bed.” you sigh, stretching and getting off the couch and away from Andrew’s warm body.
He remains seated, watches you walk towards your room, but you stop before you round the corner.
“Are you coming or not?”
And then you keep walking, until you throw yourself into bed and get comfortable.
You don’t have to wait for him for long.
He’s in your doorframe within a few minutes, after you listen to him pacing up and down the hall, huffing and mumbling to himself.
Wordlessly lifting the blanket, you invite him to join you, and after a moment of hesitation, he steps close to the bed.
“Take your clothes off,” you tell him, revealing more of yourself, showing him you just undressed under the covers.
“Fuck.” he curses as he quickly strips too, and you giggle, snuggling against him with your back pressed to his bare chest and his raging erection against your ass.
His arm wraps around you and he breathes heavily as you grab his wrist and place his palm on your breast.
“Soft-” he whispers, allowing himself to knead and squeeze your tits, his mouth pressed to your hair behind your ear, his hot, minty breath making you squirm.
He rolls your nipple between his fingers and you gasp, turning around and straddling him, smiling when you see how he’s looking at you.
His eyes are wide open, pupils blown with lust, his heart is beating out of his chest underneath your hands, heaving breaths swaying you on top of him.
His thick cock between your bodies fits nicely along the seam of your cunt, the whole underside getting soaked in your slick as you begin to move.
You take his face into your hands and lean in, pressing your forehead to his and looking into his eyes.
“Kiss me-” you whisper, barely finishing the words before Andrew’s mouth is silencing yours.
It’s a little awkward at first, clashing teeth and getting used to each other, remembering how kissing works. But you’re both so hungry for it, whining and whimpering muffled in the kiss and drowned out by the shallow breaths you share in your tight space.
His hands are fucking everywhere. Warm, calloused, exploring your soft skin as if he’s mapping it, memorizing every freckle and every hair on your body.
When he looks down at where you’re seated on top of him, watching you grind on him, he groans thickly at the curls that cover your mound rubbing against his cock deliciously.
He’s not very loud, but he’s vocal. Choked little grunts and low groans, huffs and heaving breaths, whispered curses.
You kiss those sounds away and all you still hear is a dull hmph and his breaths through his nose on each pointed roll of your hips.
Eventually, he gets impatient, taps your hip and makes a needy noise, glancing down at where you’re joined.
“Please…” he begs; you smile and kiss him as you lift your hips off his lap, grip his cock and line him up with your drooling entrance.
A broken moan escapes him, his curly head abruptly rising from the pillow, and you can see him disintegrating as you sink down on him.
“Mmmmnn~” you moan and indulgently play with your own tits as his fingers nearly bruise your hips at the force he’s grasping them with.
“Oh fuck… oh fuck-” he sputters, his eyes drinking you in greedily, hands now tugging at you, urging you to move.
You clench your pelvic floor muscles on purpose and he yelps and hisses, his hands on your tits and his mouth back on yours in an instant.
Merciful as you are, you start off with an experimental tilt of your hips and sigh at the wonderful stretch and angle of him inside you. You can feel his pulse through his cock.
Then, increasingly deep and intense, you slowly ride him like that, him laying on his back in your bed with his hands all over you, eyes wide and flickering with disbelief that it’s really happening.
You’re wet - he can not just feel it, he can hear it, too. The lovely squelching sound of his cock gliding through your slick folds and stuffing you on each downstroke.
“Your cock feels fucking amazing-” you moan, hands firmly planted on his near hairless chest covered in countless freckles and a few scars, lifting yourself up and dropping back down on him.
Andrew groans in response, hands back on your hips to guide your slow, deliberate movements, enjoying how silky smooth and tight your walls are around him.
He chases your mouth for kisses, but you won’t let him catch you without a fight, making him sit up and pull you down with his hand on the back of your head.
It feels like a massive weight is slowly tumbling down off your shoulders like the side of a cliff under pressure.
Andrew is beautiful, gentle and careful, and he feels so good inside you - making you regret not doing this much sooner.
Of course, after such a long time of being pent up and pining for you, he doesn’t last long.
“Oh shit… sorry, I’m sorry- ngh” he whimpers, you shush him again.
“It’s okay… yeah, fuck, there you go.” you moan as he ruts his hips up into yours, emptying his balls deep inside you.
Silently, you thank the universe that you’ve got an IUD.
Fucking a Cody? Alright. Dating one? Maybe. Having his child? Absolutely not in this environment.
“Good god, Andrew-” you begin, panting and preparing to hop off him and into the shower, where you’ll have to take care of yourself.
It’s not exactly common for men like the Cody brothers to be particularly good lays - though Craig was decent for a one time thing - so it doesn’t surprise you that you don't get to come first, maybe at all.
Not on Andrew’s watch.
He pins you down in his lap and refuses to let you go, just one strong arm around your waist is enough to keep you there.
When you stop struggling against his hold, all playful, he turns you over without pulling out and you squeal and giggle at the sudden manhandling, making him smile subtly, now caging you between his arms and under his weight.
“You didn’t… I mean. I want you to come. Can I try?” he breathes, and the look in his eyes softens you. Desperation and want, but affection and care, too. He’s asking permission now. You can handle him.
“Yes,” you nod, spreading your legs wider for him when he nudges the insides of your thighs with his knuckles.
His softening cock finally slips out of you, leaving you leaking his load, but he stops it from soiling your sheets for now by gathering it on two of his fingers and pushing it back inside you.
You’re not sure if that’s for his own amusement or if he’s just using it as more lubrication, but you don’t give a shit either way.
You gasp and claw at his back to hold on to him while he pushes his fingers as deep as he can and gently strokes your front wall, he knows that much.
“Is that good?” he asks, and you nod, prop yourself up on your elbows and watch, ready to help him figure you out.
“Yes, that feels nice… now rub my clit. Like this.”
You take his other hand and guide his fingertips, swiping them across your clit in exactly the right way, quietly moaning for him.
“Like this?”
He perfectly mimics the pressure and the little circles you showed him, and you moan, nodding harder this time.
“Fuck, yeah, Andrew… Just like that. Don’t you stop, baby-”
The pet name makes him whimper pathetically, drop his head to his chest, and the warmth of the word’s impact spreads through his being.
Baby.
He tries going a bit faster and is ecstatic when it pays off, has you clawing at him harder and writhing underneath him, not quite able to escape his touch.
“Yeah… yeah. Take it. Yeah. So fucking pretty.” he praises, his rough voice making your eyes roll back into your head, the aroused edge in it more than a turn-on.
You come with a shudder and a guttural moan, followed by a series of sweet, obscene cries that Andrew soaks up greedily.
He presses his face up to yours so he can feel the vibration of your voice when your lips brush against his as you ride out your blissful high on his fingers.
Only when you push at his forearms, urging him off, does he stop, immediately pulling you into his arms and kissing you.
The release makes you feel so relaxed and satisfied - Andrew’s weight on top of you is a comfort and his touch is making you sleepy - you don’t even notice that Deran and Craig are both passing your open door, apparently just having arrived at the house.
“Jesus Christ!”
Deran spots you first and rushes to shut the door, but Craig still sees you.
You don’t expect him to do anything, and he doesn’t, but it’s still a little awkward later at lunch with everybody, after you’ve cleaned up, re-dressed and made out on your bed a little more.
It’s awkward at least for a moment, until Andrew takes your hand that’s on the table and holds it, in front of everybody.
Not even Smurf says anything when she sees him smiling at you, and you smiling back.
After dark, you lounge by the pool, smoking and sitting with him, while the rest of the family stays inside to watch a game, which neither of you are interested in right now.
“I’m sorry I scared you.” he finally apologizes, holding your hand in your lap.
“It’s okay. Why do you think you did it?” you ask, running your fingers through his curls.
“Because you’re beautiful.” he explains, and only Andrew could find a non-absolving reason for his behavior and make it sound adorable.
You chuckle fondly, take a drag off your blunt and blow the smoke away from him, careful not to get it in his face. He’s sensitive about it.
Kissing him again and again, trying to peek behind the curtains that he had up but you managed to pull wide open with your gentle approach, sunlight pouring through, you keep him glued to your side and take him back to your bed that night.
He sleeps like a rock - no need to stand up and stare when he can keep you close like this instead.